THE SECRETIVE TEXT:
YOIK LYRICS AS LITERATURE
AND TRADITION
Harald Gaski
The most obvious example
of the need for a culturally internal interpretation technique
in relation to Sami texts must be yoik poetry. The yoik is the
original music of the Sami, with clearly defined parameters for
production, function, and practice. The concept of juoigat (to yoik) exists over the entire
Sami region, but yoik itself is called different things in the
diverse Sami dialects. It is integral to the Sami sense of community,
making the subject of a yoik a part of the society.
The yoik is
a way of remembering it connects a person with the innermost
feelings of the theme of the yoik, and may thus communicate between
times, persons, and landscapes like in the long, old yoik which
Nils Mattias Andersson from Tärnaby, Sweden yoiked for the
Swedish national radio company when they travelled around and
collected yoiks from different regions of Sapmi (Arnberg, Ruong,
and Unsgaard 1969: 158-62). Nils Mattias Andersson was born in
1882, and was already an old man when the recordings took place
in the mid 1950s. He wanted to tell of his life as a reindeer
herder through his yoik, and sat down then and there and dictated
one of the most beautiful epic poetic pieces we know within Sami
impressionistic poetry, "The Reindeer on Oulavuolie".
The yoik opens
with Andersson relating how his wife, Anna, sits in the lávvu, the Sami tent, and
blows into the embers to light the fire. But his thoughts are
not only for his wife they shift quickly to the large mountain,
Oulavuolie, which has a glacier with a deep fissure in it a crevice.
His reindeer run around on the glacier: "the reindeer run
around, run around, run around." Suddenly, in his memory
children appear. Children who were on a fishing trip in a boat,
and, who caught a big fish so big, in fact, that they were nearly
frightened by it. Nevertheless they thought, according to the
yoik, that "Oulavuolie's beautiful reindeer are finer/Oulavuolie's
tall reindeer are finer." And so he describes the reindeer,
using the Sami language's special terminology to differentiate
the animals according to age, gender, and appearance. The reindeer
are beautiful, but Oulavuolie with its glacier is dangerous: "Oulavuolie's
huge ice fissure/ice fissure, huge ice fissure/has sucked up my
beautiful tall ones/my beautiful slender reindeer."
Then the yoiker
turns back in his reminiscing to the present: "But now I
have grown old/grown old, grown old/and my tall ones have changed/changed,
changed/They are no, are no, are no longer." He remembers
the reindeer with the swaying antlers, the beautiful ones who
stood pridefully aloof," when I was the man on Oulavuolie,
the man on Oulavuolie." At the end, he approaches the tent
again, sees the woman who blows into the embers, blows on the
fire to get it to ignite. And he finishes the poem with a dual
image, age and forgetfulness: "And it is the two of us/Our
memory, memory of us/vanishes, vanishes./We remember and we have
forgotten./We are both old."
If "The
Reindeer on Oulavuolie" is first and foremost a reminiscing
yoik with reindeer as its center, under the surface it is also
a deeply philosophical text, which relates something about the
Sami's understanding of themselves as a part of a larger whole.
At the same time it is a text typical of the attitudes toward
the Sami in the 1950s and 1960s in Scandinavia. It is not only
a memory of two single individuals and one man's reindeer herd
which disappear the whole Sami lifestyle can be seen as something
which is disappearing. We find in the text a vulnerability regarding
that which no longer exists, one which expresses a greater sorrow
for "the tall ones" which have changed and are no longer
vital, than for the fact that "the memory of us/vanishes.
We remember and have forgotten/We are both old." There is
a sense of something given up, a resignation in the text that
which the old have stood for is gone; but at the same time, the
yoiker finds solace in the memories, and perhaps happiness in
the fact that his text is preserved in the recording. In this
way Andersson's yoik enters the collective Sami consciousness,
and thus comes to represent something besides the defeatist abandonment
of a culture's distinctiveness.
Yet even though
yoik is so collective in its essence, it nevertheless demonstrates
a distinct concept of ownership. It is not the one who composes
a yoik who owns it, but rather that which is yoiked. The producer,
in this sense, loses the right to his or her product, while the
subject assumes dominion over this same creation. This the traditional
role of art in a culture in which the central focus is on collectivity,
not in the sense that the individual owns nothing, but rather
in the respect that a perceived solidarity is what actually holds
the culture together. In such a society, an artist is not simply
an individual she or he is also a representative of the entire
culture, one element in the distribution of labor within the whole.
In and of
themselves, understanding and interpretation of yoik as an artistic
expression are not dependent on the verbal field of meaning at
all. There are many yoiks, especially personal yoiks, which don't
have words at all, in which the yoik melody itself, the luohti, transmits the yoik's content to the listeners. In the
same manner that any given form of art can be beautiful to observe
and a pleasure to behold, a yoik should also be pleasant to listen
to, providing one with peace of mind and pride in one's soul on
behalf of one's own people.
Not merely text, nor
just music
In this essay I will
more or less let the musical aspect of yoik lie undisturbed and
concentrate on interpreting the textual part of the yoik in a
wider reading taking into account a Sami understanding of the
yoik. I will return to discuss the implications of this so-called
'Sami' understanding of the yoik later in the essay, but just
to give one clue to trace I am primarily thinking about a contextualized
interpretation of a cultural expression, which, first and foremost,
is not merely text, nor just music, but both of them and even more than
just the sum of lyrics and melody.
As is common
in all research, yoik studies often divide the genre into smaller
segments, in order to delve deeper into the material through detailed
analyses. The most common division among 'outside' researchers
examining Sami yoik has been to split it into musical and literary
portions. I am, of course, aware of the problems contained in
'dissecting' the yoik in this way and departing from the demand
for the yoik's unity with the intention of splitting up something
which is indivisible into smaller units as I will be doing. The
Sami scholar, Jon Eldar Einejord also opposes this approach in
his thesis on yoik: "This can lead the researcher into an
impasse, where yoik is merely seen as a collocation of expressive
means, as a musical (and eventually literary) expressive form,
and not as a social form of expression [...] One could thus overlook
the function yoik has in its entirety." (1975: 62)
The Sami yoik
and multimedia artist, Nils-Aslak Valkeapää, addressing
the primary function of yoik, has stated that, "it was never
the understanding that yoik should be presented as art" (1984:
45). The yoik is social in its function, but, on the other hand,
it is clear that it is also aesthetic in its creation and, as
such, can function remarkably well as art. But it is equally important
to keep in mind yoik's origins the historical and social when
one evaluates the genre's new uses and contexts for performance.
This presents
an interesting dilemma to research principles and ethics: one
is allowed to dissect yoik in a disciplined manner, but such an
operation is nearly synonymous with committing violence to the
tradition. A yoik actually only has meaning as a unified structure,
whose cultural parameters do not allow for a division into musical
and textual parts. The question, therefore, for researchers is
whether one should take heed of these traditional boundaries,
or shall researchers, like artists, have the right to cross these
boundaries at will? On the other hand, however, do these boundary
transgressions mean that respect for the tradition diminishes,
and that important differences become blurred, or do new eras
always require new ways? If a medium no longer functions, should
it be allowed to die in peace unchanged, or shall it live or
be made to live further in a revised form? These are important
questions to raise in regard to the preservation of traditional
cultural expressions not only within minority communities, but
as a general discussion concerning the esteem of "old"
values in our (post)modernist society. When current Sami singers
are modernizing traditional Sami yoiks to make them fit into the
framework of one or another kind of popular music, are they violating
or renewing tradition or are they just simply creating something
fresh, unique and original?
This problematizing
of the approach to the (literary) works of writers and other artists
of ethnic minorities (Native Americans, the Scandinavian Sami,
the Australian Aborigines and others) one could name "Indigenous
Criticism", which in each case primarily would be concentrating
on the specific reading and understanding of a culture's own products.
Not at all trying to diminish the importance of this kind of criticism,
I will still try to position myself in between the (more) established
methods of criticism and the rather esoteric exposition of each
specific culture. Being in the field of a communicative scientific
practice, I feel it most urgent to be able to reach out with one's
findings, not only to one's own people, but to transgress cultural
boundaries and obstacles. I feel this to be the aim and intention
also of ethnocriticism. I would like to adapt and adjust ethnocriticism
to an indigenous approach to traditional Sami texts, represented
by yoik lyrics. At least in my case, this will be a meeting between
two basically congenial ways of reading the texts, but presumably
with different emphases concerning the interpretation of the material,
and naturally with regards to the self-positioning of each analytical
practice.
A two-fold approach
"Ethnocriticism,"
according to Arnold Krupat in the book Ethnocriticism: Ethnography,
History, Literature,
is to a large extent based on work with Native American literary
texts, but it does not at all offer itself as a master narrative
for interpreting this literature the Native American way. On the
contrary, one may say, ethnocriticism wants to position itself
at the frontier, meaning a movement at the borders between the
"other cultures' way of construing and representing the world"
and the "West's" Europe and America's way of producing
criticism, something which is not "internal" or "indigenous"
in relation to traditional native cultures. Ethnocriticism is
concerned with differences rather than oppositions, thus seeking
to replace oppositional with dialogical models (1992: 25-26).
This situates, in Krupat's words, "the would-be practioner
of ethnocriticism [--] at the various frontier points where the
disciplines of anthropology and literature, literature and history,
history and philosophy meet and interact" (31-32).
Being a Sami
scholar in the field of comparative literature represents an interesting
approach to the research on traditional yoik lyrics. Knowing the
cultural background of the yoik, and, at the same time, knowing
the literary methods normally used for the interpretation of textual
materials, may serve as a two-fold approach to Sami texts, where
cultural background, linguistic skills in Sami and literary methods
converge and enrich each other to comprehend more of the texts
than knowing only one of the skills would allow. There is, nevertheless,
a residue left in the text something which is not easily explicated
through the methodical exposition of the subject. This something
I like to think of as being a more or less culturally internal
code or mode, which is hard to catch without a broad knowledge
of the background and context of the story, song or myth.
Being aware
of this extra potential of the text, and also being able to explicate
it, is of course the advantage, superiority and enjoyment of the
"insider". This is furthermore the part of all artistic
performance and understanding that represents the specific values
of each culture, and thus is celebrated as a certain kind of cultural
wealth. In the Sami case the old lengthy oppositional yoik poems
transcribed by the Finnish minister Jacob Fellman in Tana valley
at the beginning of the 1800s from the times of colonization may
serve as an example of texts of this kind, where a subtle use
of double meaning in the yoik poetry made it possible to communicate
on two levels at the same time, so that one type of message was
conveyed to a Sami audience and quite a different one to outsiders.
While the Sami listeners immediately understood the underlying
encoded message, those representatives of the government present
at the performance only grasped the meaning of the yoik at its
most superficial level (Gaski 1993: 120-22).
Still, be
these internal matters as important as they may, the real interesting
point of this "internality" only comes into its own
when it is made communicable for a larger audience naturally
on the condition that we are strictly talking theoretically here,
not being in a war-like condition, where people's lives and well-being
are depending on the secrecy of encoded messages. Yet even in
a situation such as war, most people would be aware of the importance
of codes, and thus the enemy would put all his efforts into breaking
the code. Anyway, in regard to literary interpretations of texts
celebrating limited openness, some may only want to emphasize
their esoteric potential, while others prefer to try to make them
more communicative.
Like the ethnocritics,
I am more interested in the meeting place of different texts or
cultures, rather than just seeking and explaining the internal
meaning of a text to people who supposedly already know it. The
"translation" of a text into new contexts may be much
more interesting than just repeating the already obvious. A combination
of a linguistic-poetic translation and a culturally contextualized
explanation may open the text for new audiences to be regarded
as an expression of that specific culture, but, at the same time,
every translation is also an interpretation, and nothing can or
should restrain new readers from associating other things with
the text as compared to the reception of what I would call the
"primary intended reader or listener". The Sami yoiks
should primarily be understood in accordance with and within their
cultural context, but can in addition be analyzed as, for example,
literary expression, as long as one is aware of the alienation
this represents from the original cultural context to which they
primarily belong as traditional artistic forms of expression.
This is also, for that matter, a very exciting question of artistic
perspective and hermeneutics; how differing sets of expectations
determine the way in which we interpret cultural expression.
An interesting
attempt to awaken folklorists to the fact that they have something
to contribute to the discussions going on in literary studies,
is an article by Tom DuBois in Journal of American Folklore called "Native Hermeneutics".
The article continues to develop Alan Dundes' expression "oral
literary criticism", and offers an etic typology of hermeneutic
strategies for the interpretation of lyric songs in Northern Europe.
The article also touches on yoik analysis, but does not delve
exclusively into the problematics regarding it (DuBois 1996: 259-261).
In his dissertation
on the Sami yoik, Richard Jones-Bamman states in the chapter on
constructing meaning in a yoik:
[The] process is deeply
embedded within all of Saami culture, on one level, while remaining
subject to regional and even personal interpretation. No amount
of objective data, apparently, will get us any closer to the 'meaning'
of the joik and how it is conveyed musically, unless we also focus
our attention on the specific 'joik milieu' wherein composition
and performance occurs (1993: 139).
In a footnote to this
chapter Jones-Bamman refers to Clifford Geertz' queries regarding
the advisability of someone from 'outside' seeking to adequately
penetrate the 'native' point of view. By picking apart various
yoik examples, seeking a 'grammar' in order to explain such phenomena,
there seems all to often to be a conspicuous omission of the role
that cultural inculcation plays in this process (139). All this
is in support of questioning to what degree an outsider is able
to reach the local meaning and function of a traditional art form
like the Sami yoik. On the other hand, no one is disputing the
worthwhile and the interesting challenge of attempting to communicate
between or coping on the borderline between an insider and outsider's
view of these issues.
Local knowledge, postcolonialism
and translations
In this context I will
try to analyze a few Sami traditional texts within a Sami frame
of understanding, at the same time as I emphasize that which is
communicable in this insight from a theoretical platform that
recognizes the culture's internal (intuitive) understanding of
its own traditions and expressions, but which also demands an
analytic ability and will in order to transmit this understanding
to external readers. In a Krupatian approach this could be expressed in the following
way: "Ethnocritical discourse regards border and boundary
crossings, with their openness to and recognition of the inevitability
of interactive relations, as perhaps the best means to some broadly
descriptive account of the way things 'really' work in the material
and historical world. Ethnocriticism thus wishes to develop and
refine dialogic models whose claims to accuracy, systematicity,
and knowledge would reside in their capacity [- -] to take in
more context." (1992: 26).
In this matter
it is important to place oneself into the entire context where,
for example, yoik is performed. This applies both to creation
and performance of yoik. I have also tried to problematize these
aspects elsewhere, but would like nonetheless
to spend a little time on the topic again, in order, if possible,
to describe the situation in such a way that it becomes clear
how problematic, if not impossible, it would be to analyze the
text-part of the yoik isolated from the situationally determined
performance of an actual yoik. A total understanding of the context
and the meaning of the yoik demands not just being there at
a specific time and probably at a specific performance, but also
a thorough knowledge of the yoik's musical aspects and its textual
content. Beyond this is also needed an intimate acquaintance with
the person being yoiked often trifling enough, but nonetheless
characteristic events which here befall the person. And not least
is demanded a good deal of metaphoric competence, which also is
often based in completely local conditions.
In other words,
great demands are made on local knowledge, all the way in to the
sphere of the intimate, in order to receive the full and complete
understanding of a yoik's content, that it is nearly unachievable
as a literary method at any rate,
or perhaps more correctly, as only a literary method. It is naturally
possible to interview the yoiker, the yoiked, the closest family
members and friends and the local milieu, to get closer to the
local comprehension of the yoik. This has been done, and even
written down, and it is quite interesting reading in and of itself.
Nevertheless the problem consists of how one could possibly methodicize
such an approach without arriving at a "Gallup"-like
poll, either as literary historical biography on the one hand,
or as a reception-aesthetic approach on the other, where the registration
of similar interpretations of the yoik's content would be definitive
for what is regarded as the most adequate interpretation of the
yoik.
In his latest
work, The Turn to the Native, Krupat tries to relate his ethnocriticism
to the so-called postcolonial approach to cultural expression,
and introduces in this context a new term which is meant to cover
the thematics in Native American Literature even better than the
term "ethnocriticism" is able to do. He calls it "anti-imperial
translation" which functions to "conceptualiz[e] the
tensions and the differences of contemporary Native American fiction
from 'the imperial center'." (1996: 32). The 'imperial center'
refers to The Empire Writes Back,
in which postcolonial texts are seen to have
emerged in their present
form out of the experience of colonization and asserted themselves
by foregrounding the tension with the imperial power, and by emphasizing
their differences from the assumptions of the imperial centre.
(1989: 2)
Because postcolonialism
is primarily associated with previously liberated colonies, especially
in Asia and Africa, Krupat feels that it is important to have
a clearer distinction between the Native American reality as it,
for example, is expressed in the USA of today, in contrast to
the countries which have won back their freedom. The Native American
situation is not postcolonial. The Native Americans and a host
of other indigenous peoples throughout the world still live,
for the most part, under colonial control. Krupat tries to make
the distinction with postcolonialism more precise by focusing
on the consequences that colonialism's cultural dominance and,
among other things, linguistic oppression, have had:
Because historically specifiable
acts of translative violence marked the European colonization
of the Americas from Columbus to the present, it seems to me particularly
important to reappropriate the concept of translation for contemporary
Native American literature. To do so is not, let me say, to deny
the relationship of this literature to the postcolonial literatures
of the world, but, rather, to attempt to specify a particular
modality for that relationship. (1996: 32)
Even though
Native American literature is mostly written and published in
English, the point remains that much of its content nevertheless
implicitly thematizes a centuries-long history of assimilation
and attempts to deny Indians of their language as well as their
culture. This is also underscored
by another indigenous author, Mudrooroo Narogin from Australia,
in Writing from the Fringe: A Study of Modern Aboriginal Literature, who writes "It
is a curious fate to write for a people not one's own and stranger
still to write for the conquerors of one's people" (148).
In both of these texts the usage of English as the expressive
agent for indigenous authors is made into a problematic issue,
where the language of the dominant culture is used with intentions
of double communication, both for non-Indian (or non-Aboriginal)
readers and to say something more between the lines to one's
own, who through a cultural codex, and a culturally internal preference,
in a way "hear" "the Natives' language" under
and behind the English surface. It is in this direction that Krupat
also is thinking when he introduces the term "anti-imperial
translation," where "translation" in this context
should be understood beyond a purely linguistic translation. It
is a manner of using the majority language to translate one's
own cultural situation and the understanding of it to a language
and a description which can at the same time function in a collectivizing
manner for one's own group and in an oppositional manner towards
the dominant culture and the actual political situation one finds
one's self in.
"Translation"
is central also to those Sami authors who can not write in Sami
although their cultural experience and knowledge is Sami. Translation
is also important with regards to information about and the further
dissemination of knowledge about Sami and Greenlandic literature.
The translation situation is even thematized in this article through
the fact that the yoik texts which I will analyze must be translated
to English, and are referred to in a language other than Sami.
Tradition in transition
The yoik poetry's subtlety
is undergoing a process of alteration and transformation. It has
inspired our foremost poets, and in earlier times it was our foremost
poets' form. Actually it's not quite
fair to phrase it in this way, because also here, as in so many
other contexts in our modern Sami way of life, we are experiencing
a changing of traditions. It would be more correct to say that
a "division of labor" has arisen between poets and yoikers,
where the new Sami poetry has taken over the textual portion of
the yoik's tradition and allowed itself to be inspired by yoik
poetry's creativity and subtlety, while the musical side has been
both maintained by individual "traditionalists" and
changed by other "innovators" who have desired to create
something new, in the form of both outside influence and genuine
original creativity from their own standpoint. The traditional
yoik is at any rate changing in its function, meaning and content.
Today so little yoik poetry is created which is as rich in short
statements that hit the mark and unsurpassed metaphoric certainty
as that which one can find in the old personal yoiks that one
must speak of a tradition in transition and transformation.
There are,
of course, yoikers who are trying to preserve both the impressionistic
aspect and the momentary characterization of a situation which
are trademarks of the older yoiks, but on the other hand there
are many more who completely omit words because they are of the
opinion that yoik is first and foremost music, and that it is not fitting
to characterize living people with an all too picturesque speech
because this could be misunderstood and thereby cause offense.
These are, of course, completely relevant arguments which are
quite important in understanding the direction in which yoik is
moving, but in this connection they are less important as I am
trying to find an intermediary layer between the intimate sphere's
understanding of a yoik and in particular the poetic portion
of it, as this treatment is primarily concerned with the textual
aspect of yoik interpretation, exactly the area to which literary
theory has the most to contribute and a culturally-based total
interpretation of the yoik. It is my opinion that it is possible
to arrive at such an interpretation, and that the path to this
interpretation can also be described in such a way that it can
function as a methodological introduction in cultural interpretation
with yoik as an example.
The yoik may
be viewed as both a traditional act of performance and as a modern
art work in the same environment and context as that in which
the yoik originates. This is comparable to contemporary singing
and storytelling in Native American communities, as observed by
Krupat:
I mean to say that contemporary
singing and storytelling goes on in communities that use those
performances as means of affirming and validating their identities
as communities communities, which insofar as they are traditionally
oriented, do not separate those stories from their performers,
audiences and occasions, and so have no reason to develop any
distinctive category of "criticism" about them. This
is not in the least to say that Indian people have no ideas or
thoughts about the "literature" they perform or participate
in; it is to say that they have no need to produce a body of knowledge
about
it that is separate and apart from it.
(1992: 187).
This observation
is relevant for the Sami situation as well, especially in previous
times regarding the position of yoik. Traditionally the giving
of a yoik to a person was like a naming process; by receiving
her or his own yoik, an adolescent would be reckoned as a whole
member of the local society. The ideology of yoik is thus communal,
with a yoik linking the individual to a collective. On the other
hand, it also confers a unique status and identity. A person's
individuality is acknowledged by the act of receiving a yoik,
but no individuality is possible without the interpretive community
surrounding it.
The "reference
function" of a yoik constitutes the identity of each individual
melody, writes the profound Norwegian yoik researcher Ola Graff
(1993: 399). The reference to the object of the yoik is not something
which one may add to or leave out from the melody. It is always
present, but it is "invisible" to an outsider. In the
social context where the yoik belongs, people will, however, recognize
both the yoiked person and her melody. The melody is closely connected
to the referential object in an indissoluble relationship. Linguistically
this is expressed through the fact that one does not yoik about somebody or something, there is a direct connection; one
yoiks something or someone (399).
"...the thin,
dark one untouched by a man's hand"
I have, on an earlier
occasion, conducted a type of ethnocritical interpretation of
the yoik "Gumpe borai soagnovuoján," and will only summarize
it briefly here as an introduction to a more thorough analysis
of "Joatkka-Elle luohti." The "Gumpe borai"
yoik can be characterized as a humoristic-ironic commentary on
an old bachelor who has had an eye for certain girls, but who
nonetheless never has gone so far as to find himself a wife, for
other men have run off with his sweetheart. In the yoik the subject,
the old bachelor, comes up with good excuses to explain the fact
that he hasn't yet made his proposal-journey.
Gumpe borai
soagnovuoján
Sáhpán
ciebai gabbabeaskka
Báhcán
lei vel muzetsággi
Gean ii
oktage lean guoskkahan
The wolf
ate the deer hitched for courting
The mouse
gnawed the white fur coat
Still left
was the thin, dark one
untouched
by a man's hand
On the surface
the text tells us that the man couldn't make his proposal-journey
because his driving reindeer had been eaten by the wolf. In addition
the mouse had ruined the white reindeer-fur coat he had planned
to wear, and naturally one can not go on proposing without beautiful
clothes. But even though the wolf has devoured the draft reindeer,
there is another reindeer, the dark one, that he could have traveled
with. But it was not yet tamed, as the text expresses through
the information that it had not yet been touched by human hand.
And an untamed reindeer isn't a very good draft animal, especially
for a proposal-journey where it is important to arrive in style.
The reindeer
metaphorics in the text serve a double function; they are intended
to depict draft reindeer, but at the same time they also represent
portraits of women. Gabba is a light-haired reindeer, but it can also be a light-haired woman,
while muzet means a dark-haired reindeer or woman. Sággi tells us furthermore
that she is slender. It is generally common in yoik texts to use
different reindeer names as metaphors for different types of women.
If we interpret
gabba and muzet as metaphors for a light and a
dark woman, and the wolf as the picture of another man, a rival,
we bring out other aspects of the text. The man still fails to
make his proposal-journey, but in this reading it is because another
man has run off with the light girl whom the bachelor actually
loved most. In the text the rival is represented as a wolf. In
the meantime, the deceived man still has a chance at the thin,
dark one, and the advantage with her is that she is as of yet
still untouched. With this the yoik also hints at something about
the light girl whom he didn't get. Of course it would be possible
to interpret the text in an even more abstract way, but my point
here is primarily simply to show how yoik texts can play with
traditionally linguistic terms, such as different terms for reindeer,
to also describe people, and through this comment on human relationships.
Joatkka-Elle's
yoik exists at any rate in two versions. The first is found in
Thor Frettes Notatbok V:
Joiketekster, notater om joik m.m., from 1961.
Joatkka lei stuorra
lei buoiddes lei Elle
go stuorra go buoiddes
go luosttat go biellu
go coalkkasa Ginosis
Buot oazzubehtet váldit
mus eret
beare dan Joatkke Elle ehpet
váldde
In English translation:
Joatkka was a big place
Ellen was chubby too
plump and hefty
the light colored reindeer
herd bells over by Ginos
You may take it all
just not Joatkka-Elle
The other version is
found on Piera Balto's yoik LP from 1978:
Dan duoddara Giron go girddasa
nu
Buot vikkaidet váldit
buot oazzubeht' váldit
dan bivnnut-go-vuo¿a
dii ehpet ain váldde
Gea' duoddara Giron go girddasa
nu
See how the ptarmigan flies
over the tundra
You tried to take everything
you may take it all
but you can't touch my allure
See how the ptarmigan flies
A text like
this is, of course, possible to understand, at least in part,
without being familiar with either Sami yoik or Sami culture.
In the first text one can sense something of either jealousy or
a prayer about not loosing one's sweetheart. In addition, the
English translation is, to a certain degree, adjusted linguistically
and poetically in order to be easier to understand. A literal
translation which also includes the filler word go, which really doesn't
have any actual meaning, but is primarily there due to rhythmic
demands, would sound like this in English:
Joatkka was a big place
Ellen was chubby too
go plump go hefty
go the light colored
go herd bells over by Ginos
You may take it all
just not Joatkka-Elle
Joatkka is a place, or
more precisely, a geographic area. The "light-colored"
is a reindeer, a translation of "luosttat," which means
a reindeer with a lighter stripe on its side. Ginos is also a place,
or rather a mountainside, where the light-colored reindeer grazes.
Joatkka-Elle means Elle who is from Joatkka.
The yoik opens
by telling that Joatkka is big, and proceeds directly with a comparison
with Elle from Joatkka. She is clearly a plump and hefty woman,
or as the Sami text says, thick. The third line repeats the adjectives
from the first and second lines and thereby underscores the parallels
between the geography and the subject (object?) of the yoik. The discussion of subject and object
in a yoik is always interesting. The fact that the ownership of
a yoik is defined according to whose yoik it is, is actually a
separate topic than my use of the terms here. The one to whom
the yoik is addressed must be the receiver, and therefore the
object, even though this person is considered the subject in the
everyday understanding of yoik. In this context it is also interesting
to consider the problematics of subject-object in relation to
traditional communication models with sender-message-receiver.
In one sense it is simple enough to place the yoik into this model,
but the message becomes problematic because in connection with
yoik it is not always a case of a single sender's message to a
receiver; in some cases it can just as well be a message from
the collectivity (evaluation, ironicizing, cuigesteapmi) to the object of the
yoik, or, for that matter, to all the listeners which would be
to say, in traditional society, to the entire collectivity. In
other words the yoik could be seen to have an educational function
for the collectivity, or it could be used as pure storytelling
entertainment with underlying didactic intentions, as in the previously
mentioned oppositional use of yoik during the colonization period
in Sapmi.
In the fourth
line we are presented with a new object, the reindeer with a lighter
stripe of hair on its side, as well as this reindeer's bell. It
is clear that a connection in appearance is also established between
this reindeer and Elle. It is not, as already mentioned, unusual
in Sami yoik poetry that reindeer terminology functions as metaphoric
names for women. It is less commonly used for men, but that can
also happen. From the comparison we can deduce that Elle isn't
completely dark, but rather bears certain similarities with luosttat. The reindeer bell rings
on Ginos, which is a mountainside south of Suossjávri,
quite a distance from Joatkka. After this introductory presentation
of the yoik's main character and geographic setting we go directly
to another person's perspective on Elle; this must be the yoiker's
point of view which is presented, we think or are mislead into
thinking. "You may take it all / just not Joatkka-Elle,"
with the implication being just as long as you don't take Joatkka-Elle
from me.
Playing with perspectives
It is, in fact, not the
yoiker's perspective we are presented with. It is quite common
in yoik texts that the perspective shifts between the first and
third person, and that the yoiker is actually yoiking about another
person, even though she or he performs the yoik in the first person.
The Sami literature researcher Vuokko Hirvonen, who handled yoik
texts, among other things, in her pro gradu thesis, writes that
a sense of excitement is created in the understanding of the content
through the shifting of perspective between first and third person.
The listener is alternatively drawn further away from and again
nearer to the object of the yoik, while the yoiker herself in
fact takes the place of the object. The object is changed into
the subject, a metamorphosis occurs (1991: 22).
Such is also
the case in Joatkka-Elle's yoik. It is, for that matter, unusual
that the yoik has the name of one who isn't actually the main
character of the yoik, in this case the absent man who is afraid
of losing Elle. She seems to be a much-courted woman with whom
many would like to become better acquainted, and that is also
the main point of the yoik and the reason that it bears her name,
that is to say, is dedicated to her that it primarily describes
Elle's popularity. She is the only person directly named in the
text, the "I" character is only present in his absence
through his fear of losing Elle, or perhaps this is a case of
direct jealousy.
The yoik shifts,
as Hirvonen also points out (23), from a collective perspective
in the introduction where we hear how Elle looks, about her home
area, and about Ginos. From this introductory phase we go directly
over to a subjective level, where "I" expresses his
love for Elle in his somewhat peculiar way, or according to Hirvonen;
this represents words which another has said about Elle, who is
the yoik's actual lyric ego. (23) The yoiker is in this interpretation
only a pure performer of this luohti.
The interpretation
can be made even more subtle, if one wants, because both form
and content allow it. I am speaking here in the sense that it
is only the yoik text that we are analyzing, not the whole yoik
in its total context, because my "freer" interpretation
of only the text in such a case would be limited by the yoik's
referential function. This is a luohti about people who have
actually existed or still are living, and where the yoik in the
close milieu, in its local context, is still understood as an
indivisible whole which actually makes an interpretation and analysis
of the content difficult because we then will meet with a few
(research) ethical problems which can not simply be dismissed
as irrelevant, even though they might not necessarily change the
interpretation. They will, on the other hand, lead to a Sami at
any rate possibly having problems interpreting the text freely
in a public setting because the text concerns itself with people
whose near relatives are still alive, and who could regard the
interpretation or the exposé as impolite and rude. I
also underscore here that even though I have retained the original
names of the characters, all my interpretations and analyses are
removed from the exact local understanding of the yoik. The local
understanding also includes and is actually impossible without
the yoik melody and cultural context.
At the same
time one can, of course, maintain that this problem exposes and
lays bare a critic's limitations in the attempt to arrive at the
original understanding of "the performed piece of art or
tradition" if that is the wish of the critic. For an indigenous
critic it probably will be a point to reach the original aim and
intention of the (yoik) text, as for an ethnocritic the consideration
would be to take what is culturally internal into account even
as the culturally external critical act is performed. Claims of
this kind absolutely do have a point, but they nonetheless are
subordinated to other factors in this situation, such as respect
for tradition and for the yoiked person.
The three first lines still bear the same meaning and are
an introductory presentation. It is, however, puzzling whether
Ginos is mentioned as just another place name where Elle spends
time, as Hirvonen, among others, interprets the yoik, insofar
as it is another person who actually presents the "I"-character's
yoik here. Furthermore, both Elle and the area are already described
and shouldn't therefore need (yet more) repeating. In Hirvonen's
defense it should be mentioned that she does not try to remove
herself too far from 'the local cultural context's' interpretation
of the yoik's context, but she nonetheless leaves out both the
melody and the melody handling as an important factor in an adequate-authentic
rapprochement-based total interpretation of the yoik. By this
I mean an interpretation which tries to make itself identical
to the local society's "reading" of the yoik. This can
be interesting, and in some cases also exciting, but methodically
one will, through such an approach, encounter the same problems
as in a literary-critical reading of poetry in which one uses
a purely historical-biographical approach to the texts. To be
more precise, I have a good deal of sympathy and understanding
for the culturally internal, insider's way of using the yoik as
a communications medium, but it is nearly impossible
to generalize from this communication's intended limited frame
of understanding to a broader common reception of both linguistic
and musical expression, together with suggestions and references
to familiar and quite local events which would be completely impossible
for an outsider to fully understand without constantly having
a local interpreter as an informant. I believe that just this
type of theoretical and methodological difficulties with yoik
research are part of the reason that yoik research has become
so popular recently.
A conceited ptarmigan
and a much-courted woman
That which, on the other
hand, is natural to suppose is that there is another suitor on
Ginos who competes for Elle's favors with the absent "I"-character.
This rival resides at Ginos, at least part of the year, and may
have noticed Elle there. One possible interpretation of the meaning
of luosttat in this context could
be that it doesn't indicate Elle at all, but instead designates
the rival that it is the hair color of the man at Ginos that
is described as luosttat. In this case we have
no other description of Elle than that she is round and in addition
is juxtaposed with Joatkka, while luosttat is the dark blonde man who resides
at Ginos and competes with the yoik's "I" character
for Elle's favors. In this interpretation possibility we get no
description of the yoik's subject, only of the object and the
rival. Seen from such a perspective, the first version of the
yoik tells of a triangle drama, where the concluding subject in
the yoik the jealous and rivalized man expresses his fear over
losing his sweetheart to another man, a sort of parallel to the
"Gumpe borai" yoik. It may, in this case, seem strange
that the yoik nevertheless bears the woman's name as title, but
this can easily be explained, as the yoik still deals primarily
with Elle, because it is she who is so popular that her suitors
end up in worried "don't-take-her-from-me" yoiks.
Elle's popularity
is also the theme for the other version of "Joatkka-Elle
luohti", that which Piera Balto, among others, has performed
on LP. Here Elle is the main character and the yoik's subject,
even if her yoik is, of course, made and performed by another.
With the words that are put in Elle's mouth the yoiker brings
out the other women's jealousy of Elle because she is so popular,
but at the same time Elle emerges as a somewhat conceited and
proud woman in the yoik. Of course no one would yoik themselves
in this way, but here it is a case of her competitors the other
women projecting their own frustration onto Elle, because she
can pick and choose men while they themselves remain completely
without suitors.
The beginning
and end of the yoik are in a way objectified in such a manner
that the listener is supposed to get the impression that that
which is now being told is something everyone knows and agrees
upon, while the middle portion quite clearly expresses the subject's
opinion of herself and her own situation. The tundra ptarmigan
is a beautiful bird, a little rounder than the forest ptarmigan,
but at the same time rarer and therefore more special more attractive,
as it were. The parallel with Elle is clear, also in regards to
appearance and figure as the first version substantiates. At the
same time as the mountain ptarmigan is regarded as a beautiful
bird there is something pretentious in the way that it (read Elle)
flies around and shows itself off. In other words we are once
again dealing with the theme of covetousness, this time from the
other women. There is a distinction between the first and last
lines precisely in that the first merely registers that the mountain
ptarmigan flies, while the last underscores that it flies beautifully.
One can do this at the end because so far along in the yoik it
should be clear to all listeners that the Elle discussed is a
little gáddálas, a little conceited.
Therefore the concluding stanza bears a stronger sense of irony
than it first appears to.
One could
have continued in this manner with yoik after yoik, placing the
individual text in its cultural-historical context, all the way
down to the intimate sphere, in order to bring out the entire
spectrum of interpretation which represents the text from a so-called
"internal" perspective, or from a frame of reference
that one could perhaps instead call the context of the primary
addressee. The intention has primarily been to indicate the interpretation
possibilities which, perhaps, go beyond the most clearly literary
readings of the yoik texts presented, readings which are limited
by cultural differences, or perhaps rather by a scarcity of comparable
experiences between two languages and cultures. In addition to
these limitations there is the yoik's special character as something
other than, and more than, merely a literary expression. It is
in the (musical) performance that the cultural peculiarities are
underscored, emphasized or subdued. We therefore need an interpretation
method that is broad enough and open enough to take into account
multiple sides or rather, all sides of the yoik's complete richness
of expression.
In this article
I have tried to use ethnocriticism in a "Samified" exegesis
in such a way that it opens possibilities for interpretation of
the yoik that make allowances for its peculiarities qua yoik as cultural expression, but
which at the same time also give us the opportunity to interpret
yoik texts as literary forms of expression.
If one doesn't allow for this, then the yoik's textual aspect
will not be so interesting for scholarly research any more either.
It is perhaps such a development we detect in the process which
the modern Sami yoik tradition is entering into, with the aestheticizing
of the yoik as primarily a musical genre, where the text is left
out, or quite simply no longer created.
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