Speak Bird Speak Again (5 page)

Our
decision to adopt this scheme is based on our desire to ground the
tales in the culture from which they arise. It would be wrong to
start out with the assumption that the tales merely reflect the
culture, or that the culture constitutes the subject matter of the
tales, for then their interest would be strictly regional, limited to
the cultural area from which they came. Rather, the forms of these
tales, which are derivable directly from the Arabic and Semitic
traditions in folk narrative, are related also to the Indo-European
tradition, with which they share recognizable plot patterns (as
identified by Aarne-Thompson type numbers). Certainly, the form of
each tale is part of its content. If, for example, we consider
"Sackcloth" (Tale 14) on the basis of plot alone, we see
that it is in essence the story of Cinderella (and indeed, both tales
have the same Aarne-Thompson type number). To the extent that
"Sackcloth" embodies a courtship ritual in which an eager
male pursues an elusive female, the content (and meaning) of both
tales is similar. Yet when we examine "Sackcloth" more
carefully, it becomes apparent that much of its content is derivable
from Palestinian (and Arab) culture. Therefore, knowledge of at least
that part of the culture embodied in the folktales will enrich our
study of them; without it, analysis would suffer from a certain
degree of abstraction. The culture and the art form are not reducible
to, or deducible from, each other. The tales do not simply mirror the
culture; rather, and more accurately, they present a portrait of it.
It would surely be of interest to readers of these folktales to
observe how thoroughly that portion of their form which is common
with other traditions has been adapted by local tellers to express
indigenous realities. Then we will be better able not only to
understand the tales as cultural documents but also to appreciate
them as works of art.

In the
footnotes accompanying each tale and in some of the afterwords
following each group, we will explore further specific aspects of
this relationship between the tales and the culture. Our concern here
is to present the general features of Palestinian culture that inform
the tales - that is, the common assumptions that hold narrators,
audience, and material together. The tales assume a stable social
order, which no doubt characterized Palestinian society for hundreds
of years before the advent of the British Mandate in the early 1920s;
the current situation for most Palestinians, however, is one of
diaspora and exile, requiring adaptation and cultural change. This is
not to say that the cultural assumptions informing the tales and
those prevailing in modern Palestinian society have been severed.
Ideals of behavior that have developed through the institutions of
the culture over countless generations do not simply vanish
overnight. Even though the majority of Palestinians no longer live in
extended families, for example, the standards of behavior
characteristic of this ancient institution are still current in their
social milieu. Indeed, the very survival of the tales as a tradition
with a recognizable narrative structure, a coherent moral universe,
and a set of assumptions immediately understandable to audience and
narrator alike confirms the cultural continuity of Palestinian social
life.

The
Palestinian folktale, as we have seen, is primarily a woman's art
form, and certain stylistic features give the tales their particular
character. Yet Western readers will be struck as much by the tone of
the tales - the narrative voice that speaks through them - as by
their style, for the tales empower the women who narrate them to
traverse, in their speech, the bounds of social convention. This
speech is direct, earthy, even scatological, but without awkwardness
or self-consciousness. The narrators are keen observers of the
society around them, particularly those features of the social
structure that touch directly on their lives. Because the
tale-tellers are older women who have gone through the cycle of life,
they are free of blame and at the same time endowed with the
experience and wisdom necessary to see through hypocrisy and
contradiction.

The
"household" context of the tales, moreover, is that of the
extended family, and our understanding would not be complete without
some knowledge of the structure of this institution, within which
women have traditionally spent their whole lives. As in the case of
Fatme, older village women who have spent their lives with contact
limited almost completely to the social unit that is the extended
family are not uncommon. A Palestinian proverb says, "The
household of the father is a playground, and that of the husband is
an education" (bet il-'ahil talhiye, u-bet il-joz tarbiye).
Whatever the truth of the proverb, the fact remains that a woman
always belongs in one household or the other.

Folktales,
like other forms of narrative, thrive on conflict and its resolution,
not only as a theme but for plot structure as well. As we shall see,
the tellers do not have to invent situations of conflict, for they
are common in the social milieu, just as the colloquial language,
with all its expressive potential, is in the linguistic environment.
The majority of conflicts embodied in the tales have their basis in
the structure of society - and necessarily so, if the tales are to be
accepted as presenting a portrait of that society. The organizing or
orienting principle in Palestinian life is the kinship system, which
defines both social position and roles and modes of interaction. Out
of this stable, conservative ground arise figures in the tales whose
desires put them in conflict with the established order as
represented by the dictates of the kinship system, and who in the
long run must learn to harmonize their separate wills with the will
of the collectivity. Much can be learned about conflict and harmony
simply from contemplating the definition of the Palestinian family,
which is extended, patrilineal, patrilateral, polygynous, endogamous,
and patrilocal. (Unless otherwise indicated, all future reference to
the "extended family" will be to the Palestinian version.)
We consider the elements of this definition as structural patterns
that generate the types of behavior encountered in the tales. By
looking more closely at these elements, then, we can learn something
about the grammar of that behavior.

The
extended Palestinian family has traditionally had three or more
generations living in close proximity as one economic unit, sharing
all income and expenses, with ultimate authority lying in the hands
of the patriarch who heads it. It is patrilineal because descent is
traced through the father, patrilateral because only the relatives on
the father's side are considered relatives in the formal system of
relationship, and patrilocal

because
the wife leaves her own family to live with that of her husband. The
criterion of endogamy permits a male to marry his (patrilateral
parallel) first cousin, while that of polygyny allows him, under
certain conditions, to marry more than one wife.

Patrilineality
and patrilaterality define social identity for the patriarch's
descendants, providing them with a ready-made basis for interacting
with others, both inside the family and outside. The patrilineal bond
is the foundation on which the whole system is built. Individuals are
rarely ever referred to by their first names: married men with
children are referred to as "Father of So-and-So" (Abu
Flan), women as "Mother of So-and-So" (Imm i-Flan). Three
of our tales have titles derived from this naming system (Tales 27,
33, 45). According to Palestinian practice, a full name need consist
of no more than a person's, name followed by the first name of his or
her father. The oldest son will usually name his firstborn son after
his own father, thereby confirming for the grandfather the continuity
of his line during his lifetime. Indeed, even before they are married
or have children, Palestinian men may still be referred to as "Father
of (name of his own father)" in anticipation of their having
sons. From this practice we conclude that the ideological basis of
the system lies in this father/son bond. With social identity being
by definition masculine, the female is simply defined out of it. If
"self" is ipso facto male, then the female becomes the
Other - the outsider or stranger. Thus, for the female, conflict is
inherent in the structure of the system. We shall explore female
Otherness in relation to several aspects of the extended family, but
first let us focus on conflictual situations arising out of the
general characteristics given above.

Polygyny
serves as a good example of the dialogue we are establishing between
the tales and the culture. It is one thing to state simply and
objectively that the society is polygynous and completely different
to observe how polygyny is treated in the tales, where its direct or
implied occurrence (Tales 3, 5, 6, 7, 9, 20, 28, 30, 35, 44) is
greatly out of proportion to its incidence in the society. This
frequency, we feel, serves an educational function, especially if we
keep in mind that children are listening every time these tales are
told. In none of the tales is polygyny presented in a good light.
More than any other institution or practice, it represents the power
of men over women, setting females in competition for the affections
of the male. In the tales, as in life, it is disruptive of family
unity and harmony; the only case of cooperation occurs when the wives
unite against the introduction of yet another wife into the family
(Tale 30). The institution is abhorrent to women and denigrated in
the culture. A proverb says, "A household with one wife is a
source of pride, one with two is a laughingstock, and one with three
- uncover yourself and defecate!" (bet wahade faxra, bet tinten
suxra, bet talate - sammir w-ixra). Fights between (or among)
co-wives will, more often than not, spill out into the surrounding
community, thereby causing shame and embarrassment and violating one
of the most cherished of family values, that of keeping its secrets
mastura, or to itself (literally, "hidden," "behind a
screen").

In a
polygynous situation the stage is set for conflict the moment a man
decides to marry his second wife (Tales 20, 30). If he has children
by his first wife, they will raise strong objections out of respect
for their mother and in defense of their inheritance. The struggle
between the co-wives continues throughout the formation and growth of
the family, down to - and sometimes as a direct cause of - the
family's ultimate breakup. If the age difference between the co -
wives is extreme, the older may save face and retain her self-respect
by sponsoring the younger one, guiding her as a mother would.
Publicly she might say she does not need sex, that she now has sons
to look after her. If, however, the age gap is not so great, struggle
is inevitable. As we see frequently in the tales, the women fight and
conspire against one another, each trying to win the affection of her
husband in different ways. They compete in all things, especially in
producing male children. The one with more sons increases her
prestige in the family and her husband's affection for her. (Note the
title of Tale 3: "Precious One and Worn-out One.") If both
have children, the conflict is transmitted to the offspring (Tales 5,
6). Each woman with her children forms a subunit within the family;
the mothers socialize their children to hate the other group, and
each woman uses her own children to manipulate the father and thereby
gain advantage for them and for her (Tales 5, 28). The husband
himself may stoke the fire of conflict between his wives and their
respective offspring, too, by showing preference for one set over the
other.

Nevertheless,
polygyny serves a useful function in the society. From the
perspective of a social system that perpetuates itself through the
patriarchal extended family (and leaving economic considerations
aside), the purpose of marriage is to produce offspring, especially
sons. A childless marriage, then, contradicts its very reason for
being. Under these circumstances, polygyny enables a man to combine
his personal desire to keep his first wife, whom he may love, with
his duty to the family to produce children. It can best be understood
in relation to the cultural view of marriage as sutra (protection)
for the woman; it is economically and socially more advantageous for
a woman to be married than divorced (though cases where divorce has
been beneficial to the woman are not unknown), even if that means
putting up with a co-wife. Polygyny is not practiced by Christian
Palestinians, and for Muslims it is regulated entirely by Islamic law
(saria), which restricts to four the number of wives a man may have
and defines his duties and obligations to them, fair and equal
treatment being of foremost importance.

Also
helpful to the understanding of polygyny is the feature of endogamy,
another characteristic of the Palestinian extended family. A man's
first duty in choosing a wife is to his patrilateral parallel first
cousin (or, more accurately, it is the duty of the family to reserve
their daughters for these cousins). In the majority of cases where
polygyny is an issue, the man marries his cousin first, and when he
has no children by her he mar-ties another woman (Tale 6). Only in
one case (Tale 30) is sexual pleasure presented (and even there
through symbol) as a motivation for polygyny. In all the tales where
polygyny occurs, the men love their first wives and are loath to part
with them, and the first wives are always vindicated against the
others.

Endogamy
(Tales 6, 16, 21, 25) may be seen as a necessary adjunct of the
social system defined by the patriarchal extended family because it
combines the two major poles of relationship in the society - descent
(hasab) and affinality (nasab) - under one roof. It serves the
purposes of the family well because it guarantees husbands for the
daughters and wives for the sons. Presumably, it forms the ideal
marriage because it exercises a positive pull toward family harmony.
When a man marries his first cousin, he is not bringing a stranger
(cf. Tale 6) into the house; she will therefore, it is thought, share
her husband's economic interest. Because both derive their identity
from the same patrilineal source, it will not be easy for him to
divorce her. Even when they are not related by blood, husbands and
wives address each other as "cousin" (ibin ammi and bint
ammi, or "son of my father's brother" and "daughter of
my father's brother") and each other's parents as ammi (uncle)
and mart ammi (uncle's wife).