Bronislaw Malinowski

“Kasabwaybwayreta lived in Tewara. He heard the renown of a soulava (spondylus necklace) which was lying (kept) in Wawela. Its name was Gumakarakedakeda. He said to his children: ‘Let us go to Wawela, make Kula to get this soulava.’ He put into his canoe unripe coco-nut, undeveloped betel-nut, green bananas.”

“They went to Wawela; they anchored in Wawela. His sons went ashore, they went to obtain Gumakarakedakeda. He remained in the canoe. His son made offering of food, they (the Wawela people) refused. Kasabwaybwayreta spoke a charm over the betel-nut: it yellowed (became ripe); he spoke the charm over the coco-nut: its soft kernel swelled; he charmed the bananas they ripened. He took off his hair, his gray hair; his wrinkled skin, it remained in the canoe. He rose, he went he gave a pokala offering of food, he received the valuable necklace as Kula gift, for he was already a beautiful man. He went, he put it down, he thrust it into his hair. He came to the canoe, he took his covering (the sloughed skin); he donned the wrinkles, the gray hairs, he remained.”

“His sons arrived, they took their places in the canoe, they sailed to Giribwa. They cooked their food. He called his grandson; ‘Oh, my grandson, come here, look for my lice.’ The grandson came there, stepped near him. Kasabwaybwayreta spoke, telling him: ‘My grandson, catch my lice in the middle (of my hair).’ His grandson parted his hair; he saw the valuable necklace, Gumakarakedakeda remaining there in the hair of Kasabwaybwayreta. ‘Ee …’ he spoke to his father, telling him, ‘My father, Kasabwaybwayreta already obtained Gumakarakedakeda.’ ‘O, no, he did not obtain it! I am a chief, I am beautiful, I have not obtained that valuable. Indeed, would this wrinkled old man have obtained the necklace? No, indeed!’ ‘Truly, my father, he has obtained it already. I have seen it; already it remains in his hair!’ ”

“All the water-vessels are empty already; the son went into the canoe, spilled the water so that it ran out, and only the empty vessels (made of coco-nut shell) remained. Later on they sailed, they went to an island, Gabula (Gabuwana in Amphlettan and in Dobuan). This man, Kasabwaybwayreta wanted water, and spoke to his son. This man picked up the water vessels—no, they were all empty. They went on the beach of Gabula, the usagelu (members of the crew) dug out their water-holes (in the beach). This man remained in the canoe and called out: ‘O my grandson, bring me here my water, go there and dip out my water!’ The grandson said: ‘No, come here and dip out (yourself)!’ Later on, they dipped out water, they finished, and Kasabwaybwayreta came. They muddied the water, it was muddy. He sat down, he waited.”

“They went, they sailed in the canoe. Kasabwaybwayreta called out, ‘O, my son, why do you cast me off?’ Spoke the son: ‘I think you have obtained Gumakarakedakeda!’ ‘O, by and by, my son, when we arrive in the village, I shall give it to you!’ ‘O, no!’ ‘Well, you remain, I shall go!’ He takes a stone, a binabina one, this man Kasabwaybwayreta, he throws so that he might make a hole in the canoe, and the men might go into the sea. No! they sped away, they went, this stone stands up, it has made an island in the sea. They went, they anchored in Tewara. They (the villagers) asked: ‘And where is Kasabwaybwayreta?’ ‘O, his son got angry with him, already he had obtained Gumakarakedakeda!’”

“Well, then, this man Kasabwaybwayreta remained in the island Gabula. He saw Tokom’mwawa (evening star) approach. He spoke: ‘My friend, come here, let me just enter into your canoe!’ ‘O no, I shall go to another place.’ There came Kaylateku (Sirius). He asked him: ‘Let me go with you.’ He refused. There came Kayyousi (Southern Cross). Kasabwaybwayreta wanted to go with him. He refused. There came Umnakayva’u, (Alpha and Beta Centauri). He wanted a place in his canoe. He refused. There came Kibi (three stars widely distant, forming no constellation in our sky-chart). He also refused to take Kasabwaybwayreta. There came Uluwa (the Pleiades). Kasabwaybwayreta asked him to take him. Uluwa said: ‘You wait, you look out, there will come Kaykiyadiga, he will take you.’ There came Kaykiyadiga (the three central stars in Orion’s belt). Kasabwaybwayreta asked him: ‘My friend, which way will you go?’ ‘I shall come down on top of Taryebutu mountain. I shall go down, I shall go away.’ ‘Oh, my friend, come here, let me just sit down (on you).’ ‘Oh come,—see on one side there is a va’i (stingaree) on the other side, there is the lo’u (a fish with poisonous spikes); you sit in the middle, it will be well! Where is your village?’ ‘My village is Tewara.’ ‘What stands in the site of your village?’ ‘In the site of my village, there stands a busa tree!’”

“They went there. Already the village of Kasabwaybwayreta is straight below them. He charmed this busa tree, it arose, it went straight up into the skies. Kasabwaybwayreta changed place (from Orion’s belt on to the tree), he sat on the busa tree. He spoke: ‘Oh, my friend, break asunder this necklace. Part of it, I shall give you; part of it, I shall carry to Tewara.’ He gave part of it to his companion. This busa tree came down to the ground. He was angry because his son left him behind. He went underground inside. He there remained for a long time. The dogs came there, and they dug and dug. They dug him out. He came out on top, he became a tauva’u (evil spirit, see Chapter II, Division VII.) He hits human beings. That is why in Tewara the village is that of sorcerers and witches, because of Kasabwaybwayreta.”

To make this somewhat obscure narrative clearer, a short commentary is necessary. The first part tells of a Kula expedition in which the hero, his son, his grandson, and some other members of the crew take part. His son takes with him good, fresh food, to give as solicitory offering and thus tempt his partners to present him with the famous necklace. The son is a young man and also a chief of renown. The later stages are clearer; by means of magic, the hero changes himself into a young, attractive man, and makes his own unripe, bad fruit into splendid gifts to be offered to his partner. He obtains the prize without difficulty, and hides it in his hair. Then, in a moment of weakness, and for motives which it is impossible to find out from native commentators, he on purpose reveals the necklace to his grandson. Most likely, the motive was vanity. His son, and probably also the other companions, become very angry and set a trap for him. They arrange things so that he has to go for his own water on the beach of Gabula. When they have already got theirs and while he is dipping it out, they sail away, leaving him marooned on the sand-bank. Like Polyphemus after the escaping party of Odysseus, he throws a stone at the treacherous canoe, but it misses its mark, and becomes an outstanding rock in the sea.

The episode of his release by the stars is quite clear. Arrived at the village, he makes a tree rise by his magic, and after he has given the bigger part of his necklace to his rescuer, he descends, with the smaller part. His going underground and subsequent turning into a tauva’u shows how bitter he feels towards humanity. As usual, the presence of such a powerful, evil personality in the village, gives its stamp to the whole community, and this latter produces sorcerers and witches. All these additions and comments I obtained in cross-questioning my original informant.

The Dobuan informant from Sanaro’a introduced one or two variants into the second part of the narrative. According to him, Kasabwaybwayreta marries while in the sky, and remains there long enough to beget three male and two female children. After he has made up his mind to descend to earth again, he Makes a hole in the heavens, looks down and sees a betel-nut tree in his village. Then he speaks to his child, ‘When I go down, you pull at one end of the necklace.’ He climbs down by means of the necklace on to the betel palm and pulls at one end of Gumakarakedakeda. It breaks, a big piece remains in the skies, the small one goes with him below. Arrived in the village, he arranges a feast, and invites all the villagers to it. He speaks some magic over the food and after they have eaten it, the villagers are turned into birds. This last act is quite in harmony with his profession of tauva’u, which he assumed in the previous version of the myth. My Dobuan informant also added, by way of commentary, that the companions of Kasabwaybwayreta were angry with him, because he obtained the necklace in Boyowa, which was not the right direction for a necklace to travel in the Kula. This, however, is obviously a rationalisation of the events of the myth.

Comparing the previously related story of Tokosikuna with this one, we see at once a clear resemblance between them in several features. In both, the heroes start as old, decrepit, and very ugly men. By their magical powers, they rejuvenate in the course of the story, the one permanently, the other just sloughing off his skin for the purpose of a Kula transaction. In both cases, the hero is definitely superior in the Kula, and by this arouses the envy and hatred of his companions. Again, in both stories, the companions decide to punish the hero, and the island or sandbank of Gabuwana is the scene of the punishment. In both, the hero finally settles in the South, only in one case it is his original home, while in the other he has migrated there from one of the Marshall Bennett Islands. An anomaly in the Kasabwaybwayreta myth, namely, that he fetches his necklace from the North, whereas the normal direction for necklaces to travel is from South to North in this region, makes us suspect that perhaps this story is a transformation of a legend about a man who made the Kula from the North. Ill-treated by his companions, he settled in Tewara, and becoming a local Kultur-hero, was afterwards described as belonging to the place. However this might be, and the hypothetical interpretation is mine, and not obtained from the natives, the two stories are so similar that they must be regarded obviously as variants of the same myth, and not as independent traditions.

So much about the ethnographic analysis of these myths. Let us now return to the general, sociological considerations with which we opened this digression into mythology. We are now better able to realise to what extent and in what manner Kula myths influence the native outlook.

The main social force governing all tribal life could be described as the inertia of custom, the love of uniformity of behaviour. The great moral philosopher was wrong when he formulated his categorical imperative, which was to serve human beings as a fundamental guiding principle of behaviour. In advising us to act so that our behaviour might be taken as a norm of universal law, he reversed the natural state of things. The real rule guiding human behaviour is this: “what everyone else does, what appears as norm of general conduct, this is right, moral and proper. Let me look over the fence and see what my neighbour does, and take it as a rule for my behaviour.” So acts every ‘man-in-the-street’ in our own society, so has acted the average member of any society through the past ages, and so acts the present-day savage; and the lower his level of cultural development, the greater stickler he will be for good manners, propriety and form, and the more incomprehensive and odious to him will be the non-conforming point of view. Systems of social philosophy have been built to explain and interpret or misinterpret this general principle. Tarde’s ‘Imitation,’ Giddings’ ‘Consciousness of Kind,’ Durkheim’s ‘Collective Ideas,’ and many such conceptions as ‘social consciousness,’ ‘the soul of a nation,’ ‘group mind’ or now-a-days prevalent and highly fashionable ideas about ‘suggestibility of the crowd,’ ‘the instinct of herd,’ etc., etc., try to cover this simple empirical truth. Most of these systems, especially those evoking the Phantom of Collective Soul are futile, to my mind, in so far as they try to explain in the terms of a hypothesis that which is most fundamental in sociology, and can therefore be reduced to nothing else, but must be simply recognised and accepted as the basis of our science. To frame verbal definitions and quibble over terms does not seem to bring us much more forward in a new branch of learning, where a knowledge of facts is above all needed.

Whatever might be the case with any theoretical interpretations of this principle, in this place, we must simply emphasise that a strict adherence to custom, to that which is done by everyone else, is the main rule of conduct among our natives in the Trobriands. An important corollary to this rule declares that the past is more important than the present. What has been done by the father—or, as the Trobriander would say, by the maternal uncle—is even more important as norm of behaviour than what is done by the brother. It is to the behaviour of the past generations that the Trobriander instinctively looks for his guidance. Thus the mythical events which relate what has been done, not by the immediate ancestors but by mythical, illustrious forbears, must evidently carry an enormous social weight. The stories of important past events are hallowed because they belong to the great mythical generations and because they are generally accepted as truth, for everybody knows and tells them. They bear the sanction of righteousness and propriety in virtue of these two qualities of preterity and universality.

Thus, through the operation of what might be called the elementary law of sociology, myth possesses the normative power of fixing custom, of sanctioning modes of behaviour, of giving dignity and importance to an institution. The Kula receives from these ancient stories its stamp of extreme importance and value. The rules of commercial honour, of generosity and punctiliousness in all its operations, acquire through this their binding force. This is what we could call the normative influence of myth on custom.

The Kula myth, however, exercises another kind of appeal. In the Kula, we have a type of enterprise where the vast possibilities of success are very much influenced by chance. A man, whether he be rich or poor in partners, may, according to his luck, return with a relatively big or a small haul from an expedition. Thus the imagination of the adventurers, as in all forms of gambling, must be bent towards lucky hits and turns of extraordinarily good chance. The Kula myths feed this imagination on stories of extreme good luck, and at the same time show that it lies in the hands of man to bring this luck on himself, provided he acquires the necessary magical lore.

I have said before that the mythological events are distinct from those happening nowadays, in so far as they are extraordinary and super-normal. This adds both to their authoritative character and to their desirability. It sets them before the native as a specially valuable standard of conduct, and as an ideal towards which their desires must go out.

But I also said before that, distinct as it is, the mythical world is not separated by an unbridgeable gulf from the present order of events. Indeed, though an ideal must be always beyond what actually exists, yet it must appear just within reach of realisation if it is to be effective at all. Now, after we have become acquainted with their stories, we can see clearly what was meant when it was said, that magic acts as a link between the mythical and the actual realities. In the canoe myth, for instance, the flying, the super-normal achievement of the Kudayuri canoe, is conceived only as the highest degree of the virtue of speed, which is still being imparted nowadays to canoes by magic. The magical heritage of the Kudayuri clan is still there, making the canoes sail fast. Had it been transmitted in its complete form, any present canoe, like the mythical one, could be seen flying. In the Kula myths also, magic is found to give super-normal powers of beauty, strength and immunity from danger. The mythological events demonstrate the truth of the claims of magic. Their validity is established by a sort of retrospective, mythical empiry. But magic, as it is practised nowadays, accomplishes the same effects, only in a smaller degree. Natives believe deeply that the formulÆ and rites of mwasila magic make those who carry them out attractive, irresistible and safe from dangers (compare next chapter).

Another feature which brings the mythical events into direct connection with the present state of affairs, is the sociology of mythical personages. They all are associated with certain localities, as are the present local groups. They belong to the same system of totemic division into clans and sub-clans as obtains nowadays. Thus, members of a sub-clan, or a local unit, can claim a mythical hero as their direct ancestor, and members of a clan can boast of him as of a clansman. Indeed, myths, like songs and fairy stories, are ‘owned’ by certain sub-clans. This does not mean that other people would abstain from telling them, but members of the sub-clan are supposed to possess the most intimate knowledge of the mythical events, and to be an authority in interpreting them. And indeed, it is a rule that a myth will be best known in its own locality, that is, known with all the details and free from any adulterations or not quite genuine additions and fusions.

This better knowledge can be easily understood, if we remember that myth is very often connected with magic in the Trobriands, and that this latter is a possession, kept by some members of the local group. Now, to know the magic, and to understand it properly, it is necessary to be well acquainted with the myth. This is the reason why the myth must be better known in the local group with which it is connected. In some cases, the local group has not only to practise the magic associated with the myth, but it has to look after the observance of certain rites, ceremonies and taboos connected with it. In this case, the sociology of the mythical events is intimately bound up with the social divisions as they exist now. But even in such myths as those of the Kula, which have become the property of all clans and local groups within the district, the explicit statement of the hero’s clan, sub-clan and of his village gives the whole myth a stamp of actuality and reality. Side by side with magic, the sociological continuity bridges over the gap between the mythical and the actual. And indeed the magical and the sociological bridges run side by side.

I spoke above (beginning of Division II) of the enlivening influence of myth upon landscape. Here it must be noted also that the mythically changed features of the landscape bear testimony in the native’s mind to the truth of the myth. The mythical word receives its substance in rock and hill, in the changes in land and sea. The pierced sea-passages, the cleft boulders, the petrified human beings, all these bring the mythological world close to the natives, make it tangible and permanent. On the other hand, the story thus powerfully illustrated, re-acts on the landscape, fills it with dramatic happenings, which, fixed there for ever, give it a definite meaning. With this I shall close these general remarks on mythology though with myth and mythical events we shall constantly meet in further inquiries.

As we return to our party, who, sailing past the mythical centre of Tewara, make for the island of Sanaro’a, the first thing to be related about them, brings us straight to another mythological story. As the natives enter the district of Siayawawa, they pass a stone or rock, called Sinatemubadiye’i. I have not seen it, but the natives tell me it lies among the mangroves in a tidal creek. Like the stone Gurewaya, mentioned before, this one also enjoys certain privileges, and offerings are given to it.

The natives do not tarry in this unimportant district. Their final goal is now in sight. Beyond the sea, which is here land-locked like a lake, the hills of Dobu, topped by Koyava’u loom before them. In the distance to their right as they sail South, the broad Easterly flank of Koyatabu runs down to the water, forming a deep valley; behind them spreads the wide plain of Sanaro’a, with a few volcanic cones at its Northern end, and far to the left the mountains of Normanby unfold in a long chain. They sail straight South, making for the beach of Sarubwoyna, where they will have to pause for a ritual halt in order to carry out the final preparations and magic. They steer towards two black rocks, which mark the Northern end of Sarubwoyna beach as they stand, one at the base, the other at the end of a narrow, sandy spit. These are the two rocks Atu’a’ine and Aturamo’a, the most important of the tabooed places, at which natives lay offerings when starting or arriving on Kula expeditions. The rock among the mangroves of Siyawawa is connected with these two by a mythical story. The three—two men whom we see now before us in petrified form, and one woman—came to this district from somewhere ‘Omuyuwa,’ that is, from Woodlark Island or the Marshall Bennetts. This is the story:

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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