The Early Writings of Bronislaw Malinowski

Bronislaw Malinowski (1884-1942), born and educated in Poland, helped to establish British social anthropology. His classic monographs on the Trobriand Islanders were published between 1922 and 1935, when he was professor of anthropology at the London School of Economics. The present collection of Malinowski's early writings establishes the intellectual background to this achievement. Written between 1904 and 1914, before he went to Melanesia, all but two of the essays are published here in English for the first time. They show how Malinowski's considerable impact on twentieth-century thought is rooted in the late nineteenth-century philosophy of Central Europe, especially the work of Ernst Mach and Friedrich Nietzsche, and in the critical appraisal of the ethnological theories of Sir James Frazer.

THE EARLY WRITINGS OF BRONISLAW MALINOWSKI

THE EARLY WRITINGS OF

BRONISLAW MALINOWSKI EDITED BY ROBERT J. THORNTON AND PETER SKALNfK TRANSLATED BY LUDWIK KRZYZANOWSKI

CAMBRIDGE UNIVERSITY PRESS

CAMBRIDGE UNIVERSITY PRESS Cambridge, New York, Melbourne, Madrid, Cape Town, Singapore, Sao Paulo Cambridge University Press The Edinburgh Building, Cambridge CB2 2RU, UK Published in the United States of America by Cambridge University Press, New York www.cambridge.org Information on this title: www.cambridge.org/9780521383004 © Cambridge University Press 1993 This publication is in copyright. Subject to statutory exception and to the provisions of relevant collective licensing agreements, no reproduction of any part may take place without the written permission of Cambridge University Press. First published 1993 This digitally printed first paperback version 2006 A catalogue record for this publication is available from the British Library Library of Congress Cataloguing in Publication data Malinowski, Bronislaw, 1884-1942. [Selections. English. 1993] The early writings of Bronislaw Malinowski / edited by Robert J. Thornton and Peter Skalnik: translated by Ludwik Krzyzanowski. p. cm. Translated from Polish. Includes bibliographical references and index. ISBN 0 521 38300 5 1. Malinowski, Bronislaw, 1884-1942. 2. Ethnology. I. Thornton, Robert J. II. Skalnik, Peter, 1945- . III. Title. GN21.M25A25 1993 305.8'0092—dc20 91-44488 CIP ISBN-13 978-0-521-38300-4 hardback ISBN-10 0-521-38300-5 hardback ISBN-13 978-0-521-02646-8 paperback ISBN-10 0-521-02646-6 paperback

CONTENTS

Pa9e i x xiii xv

Preface Acknowledgements Note on the text

Introduction: Malinowski's reading, writing, 1904-1914 On Malinowski's writings from 1904 to 1914 Nietzsche, Mach and Frazer, and their relationship in Malinowski's work Malinowski's personal and intellectual development The Nietzsche essay: a charter for a theory of myth The dissertation 'On the economy of thought' 'Religion and magic': observations on Frazer's The Golden Bough The methodological critique of Frazer's Totemism and Exogamy, the review in Lud Gender and power in Australian society: 'Tribal male associations in Australia' 'The economic aspects of the intichiuma ceremonies' Durkheim's dichotomy disputed The essay on 'The relation of primitive beliefs to the forms of social organization' The essay on 'The sociology of the family', a review of the literature Malinowski's writings, 1904-1914 1. Observations on Friedrich Nietzsche's The Birth of Tragedy (1904/5) 2. On the principle of the economy of thought (1906) 3. Religion and magic: The Golden Bough (1910) vii

1 1 3 9 16 26 38 42 49 51 57 58 61

67 89 117

Contents 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9.

Totemism and exogamy (1911-1913) Tribal male associations in Australia (1912) The economic aspects of the intichiuma ceremonies (1912) The relationship of primitive beliefs to the forms of social organization (1913) A fundamental problem of religious sociology (1914) Sociology of the family (1913-14)

Notes References

Index

123 201 209 229 243 247 269 297

313

PREFACE

Nearly fifty years after his death, the work and ideas of Bronislaw Malinowski continue to be central to the discipline of anthropology. Born and educated in Poland, his world-wide impact was so great during his lifetime that he has come to be thought of as one of the founders of modern, twentieth-century anthropology, and especially of British social anthropology. The careers of his many students continued to define social anthropology throughout the English-speaking world into the 1970s. Today, interest in his work has had a significant revival, especially in England, America and in his native Poland. As recent commentators have begun to point out (e.g. Gellner 1985a; Buchowsky 1986; Kubica 1986), Malinowski's approach to myth, history, nationalism and ethnicity was rooted in a specifically Polish experience of history. His ideas are relevant today especially in Poland, Africa and in Melanesia and Mexico because the problems with which he concerned himself continue to exercise the best minds, and surface frequently in political and economic affairs. His constant attention to methodological matters speaks to today's similar concerns in all of the social sciences. Recent readers and critics of Malinowski have explored his style and the rhetorical methods he used in order to represent so vividly the world of the Trobriand Islanders (Clifford 1986; Geertz 1988; Thornton 1987), while others have commented with insight (but with considerable speculation) on his philosophical foundations (for example Leach 1957; Strenski 1982; Paluch 1981b). In the essays presented here, however, Malinowski's specific intellectual debts can be traced for the first time to Friedrich Nietzsche, Ernst Mach and James George Frazer, especially, but also to others such as Friedrich Herbart, Richard Avenarius, Edvard Westermarck, Karl Bucher and Emile Durkheim among many others. An understanding of these lines of influence permits us to understand more IX

Preface clearly Malinowski's attraction, and his original approach to the ideas of pragmatism, positivism, Freudianism, and other main currents of twentieth-century thought. One 'main current' of the twentieth century that is conspicuous for its absence in Malinowski's work is Marxism. These essays help to explain Malinowski's implicit rejection (by ignoring it entirely) of Marxism, since his deepest foundations include the work of Ernst Mach and Richard Avenarius against whom V. I. Lenin inveighed so vehemently. Indeed, Malinowski's work was reviled until recently by the leaders of ethnology in the Communist world (Ol'derroge and Potekhin 1953), and was not taught for the most part in Poland, his homeland, or other Eastern European universities until very recently. Interest in Malinowski, however, had been sparked in his native Poland at the Jagiellonian University in Cracow, where one of Malinowski's former pupils, Professor Andrzej Waligorski, used the relatively liberal atmosphere of Poland within the Communist bloc to initiate a return to Malinowski by publishing a Polish translation of Argonauts of the Western Pacific together with a long evaluative introduction (Waligorski 1967; Waligorski 1973). Ewa Borowska has contributed research on Malinowski's Polish background (Borowska 1971; Borowska 1976). In the last decade, a group of young Polish anthropologists have re-evaluated Malinowski's life and work from the Polish point of view (A. Flis 1983, 1984; A. Flis and Paluch 1984; Kempny 1979; KubicaKlyszcz 1982; Paluch 1976; 1981a; 1981b; Sredniawa 1981; Swiderski 1984). A Polish 'Collected Works' (Dzieta) of Malinowski is being compiled and published under the general editorship of Andrzej Paluch. At least six volumes have appeared since 1980 (Malinowski 1980-). Since Waligorski's death, the Polish group published The Social Anthropology of Bronislaw Malinowski (M. Flis and Paluch 1985), a collection of evaluative essays on Malinowski. Members of the group organized and participated in the Cracow Malinowski Centenary Conference (Ellen 1985; Ellen et al. 1988; Gellner 1985a; Kubica and Mucha 1985). This book, however, has developed along a different trajectory. It is the result of the intersection of the editors' interests in Malinowski and in the history of anthropology. In 1975, Peter Skalnik visited Cracow where Malinowski was born, grew up and studied, and there gained access to Borowska's research. Skalnik

Preface began work on the preparation of Malinowski's early writings in 1976, immediately after his escape from Czechoslovakia to Holland. While affiliated with the University of Leiden during the years 1977-81, Skalnik compiled a file of Malinowski's writings that were not accessible to the English-speaking world. The New York based Polish Institute of Arts and Sciences of America, run by Malinowski's former student, Professor Feliks Gross, provided a travel grant from the Kosciuszko Foundation in New York which enabled Skalnik to study some of the Malinowski papers held in the archival department of the Stirling Library of Yale University at New Haven (where Malinowski lived for three years until his death on 16 May 1942). In 1983, the translation of most of the texts from Polish and German into English was completed by the late Professor Ludwik Krzyzanowski, then editor of The Volish Review. Additional archival research was undertaken in London in the main Malinowski archives at the British Library of Political and Economic Sciences (Skalnik 1982). After joining the department of anthropology at the University of Cape Town in 1983, Skalnik began to work with Robert Thornton who had a special interest in the history of anthropology. Thornton's training in the natural as well as the social sciences helped him to understand both Malinowski the scientist and Malinowski the anthropologist. A grant for the study of methodology in anthropology from the Human Sciences Research Council of South Africa allowed the editors time and assistance to correct and edit the texts. Careful readings and discussions of these essays revealed that they all assume a knowledge of late-nineteenth-century science and philosophy in Central Europe. Though such knowledge was widely shared among Malinowski's colleagues and teachers in Cracow, Leipzig and Vienna, it became clear that a lengthy introduction and considerable bibliographical research were necessary to make these essays accessible to the contemporary audience, and to enable further research into Malinowski's intellectual heritage. Malinowski championed a method (field-work) and a theoretical orientation (functionalism), and while this style of thought has now succumbed to criticism and changing times, his ideas were broader than the epithets suggest, and his roots in European philosophy and history are deeper than most people seem to realize. By presenting Malinowski's early writings, completed during the decade immediately before he began his field-work in xi

Preface Papua New Guinea, the editors hope that the depth and nature of his intellectual roots will become visible. These writings on philosophy, methodology, religion, totemism and other ethnological problems provide a context for his later, mature work. Through these writings, too, the connection between modern social and cultural anthropology and some of the main streams of European science, philosophy and social thought are revealed in a new light. Robert Thornton and Peter Skalnik

Xll

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

Financial assistance during the long course of this book's development has been provided by the Kosciuszko Foundation of the Polish Institute of Arts and Sciences in America, and the Human Sciences Research Council of South Africa. Robert Thornton had support from the John D. and Catherine T. MacArthur Foundation while he was a Fellow at the Institute for Advanced Study in Princeton New Jersey in 1989 and 1990. We are grateful for this assistance. We would also like to thank Julia Segar, our research assistant at the University of Cape Town, who assisted in editing the text and in searching for full bibliographical references to works that Malinowski referred to or cited in these writings. Lorna Weisbecker, the departmental secretary, typed most of the text into the word processor and Maria Jakubowska and Sue Robinson, both of Cape Town, helped in the search for various Polish reference publications and with additional translations from Polish into English. Professor Adam Kuper deserves special thanks for encouraging Peter Skalnik with the project after his arrival in Holland. Mrs Helena Wayne, Malinowski's youngest daughter, assisted the effort tremendously with early encouragement, and with her careful reading of the biographical section of the introduction. Professor Jozef Burszta of Poznari University, and Professor Andrzej Paluch of Jagiellonian University, Cracow, helped to gather the documents. Our thanks go to them, and to many others of our colleagues who have helped in many small ways. For permission to reproduce a number of essays in the volume, we would like to thank: Jozefa Stuart, Wanda Shortall and Helena Wayne, the daughters of Bronislaw Malinowski, for Totemism and xm

Acknowledgements exogamy'; Tribal male associations in Australia', and 'Relations of primitive beliefs to the forms of social organization'. Stirling Library, Yale University, Manuscripts and Archives, for two manuscripts in the Bronislaw Malinowski Papers: 'Notes in Polish on Nietzsche: the birth of tragedy', and 'Notes in Polish on religion and magic in The Golden Bough by Frazer'. The British Library of Political and Economic Science for 'On the principle of economy and thought'. The British Association for the Advancement of Science for 'A fundamental problem of religious sociology'.

xiv

NOTE ON THE TEXT

Malinowski's notes were very brief and sketchy with respect to sources. The editors have filled out the details of the sources and supplied notes that will make them accessible to English-speaking readers. However, the full text of Malinowski's notes has been preserved only where it is substantive or relates to matters other than reference details.

INTRODUCTION MALINOWSKI'S READING, WRITING, 1904-1914 Robert Thornton with Peter Skalnik

This volume makes available for the first time to an Englishspeaking audience Bronislaw Malinowski's earliest, formative writings. With this volume, most of Bronislaw Malinowski's previously unpublished or otherwise inaccessible writings have now been published or reissued.1 Several recent publications have brought to light manuscripts from the beginning and the end of his career (Malinowski 1988; Malinowski and de la Fuente 1982), and other efforts have given us much more insight into the richness and detail of his ethnographic theory and practice. There has been increasing interest in Malinowski in Poland, the country of his birth and education, and Polish scholars have contributed important new studies on Malinowski's intellectual roots in Europe (Ellen et al. 1988; A. Flis 1983, 1984; A. Flis and Paluch 1984; M. Flis and Paluch 1985; Kempny 1979; Kubica and Mucha 1985; Paluch 1981a; Sredniawa 1981; Strenski 1981), and we now possess a better understanding of the historical and social context in which he came of age as an anthropologist, a scholar, and a 'good European' (Clifford 1986; Geertz 1967; 1988; Gellner 1987; Stocking 1986; Strathern 1987; Thornton 1985). ON MALINOWSKI'S WRITINGS FROM 1904 TO 1914

In the light of this, readers of this volume are entitled to ask what value is there now in publishing Malinowski's very earliest work, most of it written before he went 'into the field'. Conventionally - by a convention that Malinowski himself invented, and that commentators have adhered to since - Malinowski's genius lies in his ethnographic work in the field, and in his authorial effort to relate this to the major currents of thought in the period during which he wrote his major works, that is, the period from 1920 to

Malinowski9s early writings 1942 when he died suddenly and prematurely (Firth et al. 1957). Of what use, then, is this excursion into his writing before he was 'initiated' as an anthropologist by this rite de passage which has become, after him, the sine qua non of twentieth-century anthropology? Several answers to this question emerge from these texts. First, the questions that defined Malinowski fieldwork emerge clearly during the period of his most intense theoretical investigations before leaving Europe. These essays are more pieces in several complex puzzles about the European confrontation with the 'Savage', about self-knowledge and the constructions of selves and others, about the adequacy of European philosophy and social science, and many other issues that extend far beyond the field of anthropology alone (Rapport 1990:7). In reading them we must keep in mind Malinowski's dictum, repeated throughout his published work, that for the social sciences, theory creates facts, not facts theories. They expose the route by which Malinowski came to the 'theories' which defined the 'facts' he collected, for these facts, in turn, have defined part of the subject matter for anthropology since then, just as the methods have helped to shape the practice of anthropology and the body of knowledge that it has created. R. G. Collingwood said that 'a body of knowledge consists not of "propositions", "statements" or "judgments" . . . but of these together with the questions they are meant to answer' (Collingwood 1939, in Stocking 1968:5). These early texts then give us the questions that the ethnographic corpus on the Trobriand Islanders, among his other works, was meant to answer. Secondly, the essays collected here have a clear and consistent relationship to one another: they map a trajectory of Malinowski's thinking. This train of thought goes from Nietzsche's philosophy, through Mach's empirio-criticism and psychophysics and Frazer's provocative errors and culminates in Malinowski's project for modern anthropology. Finally, these essays are challenging and valuable in their own right. They address issues which continue to be crucial to the human sciences: relativism, epistemology, the nature of religion, economy, gender, and labour. Although Malinowski's lengthy review of Frazer's Totemism and Exogamy may appear today to be ancient history concerning problems long since 'solved', we may read it now as an example of his critical methodology. The

Introduction later essays, while often relying on Frazer for thematic definition, move quickly to become penetrating conceptual explorations of the meanings of terms like 'magic', 'totemism', 'economy', and 'belief, and result in significant 're-valuations' (as Nietzsche urged) of these terms for a new anthropological practice. Malinowski's correspondence from the period immediately after going to the London School of Economics shows that he wanted to make translations of these works as soon as possible. The eventual decision not to translate then, must be seen as deliberate. There are several likely reasons for this. His criticism of Frazer was written before Frazer had befriended him and his wife. Malinowski may have thought that publication of the sweeping criticisms of Frazer's theories would jeopardize his career. Malinowski probably also realized that his unusual central European scholarship was a valuable intellectual asset not easily available to English-speakers, especially if it could be used to foster the image of the prophet with a mysterious source of new ideas with which to revolutionalize a discipline. Indeed, his research on heroic legend and myth, and his reading of Nietzsche, may well have pushed him in this direction of 'self-fashioning' and myth-making. Finally, it is also possible that once he went to Australia, there was simply no time to do the translation, and by the time he returned it was too late since the writing deriving from the fieldwork certainly claimed higher priority. All these factors are likely to have contributed to the decision not to translate. The result, however, has been to foster speculation about his intellectual roots. NIETZSCHE, MACH AND FRAZER, AND THEIR RELATIONSHIP IN MALINOWSKI'S WORK

Nietzsche's relevance to Malinowski had been unknown until the 1904 manuscript was discovered by Skalnik among Malinowski's papers at Yale University. The essay introduces an entirely new dimension to Malinowski's thought. Andrzej Flis, who provides the most thorough treatment of Malinowski's philosophical background until now, was obviously unaware of this aspect. '[W]hat a deep gulf separated Mach's programme from the "metaphysical" explanation applied in Coral Gardens or A Scientific Theory of CultureY (Flis 1988:125). We can see here, however, that Malinowski's essay on Nietzsche's The Birth of Tragedy is

Malinowski's early writings approximately three-quarters the length of his dissertation, and is almost as densely and as passionately argued. It is unlikely that Malinowski read only this one work by Nietzsche during his many philosophy courses. In any case it is clear that Nietzsche's influence is the 'missing link' between Mach's positivism or philosophical pragmatism and Myth in Primitive Psychology (1926a), Crime and Custom in Savage Society (1926b), Coral Gardens (1935, especially volume 2, The language of magic and gardening'), and Freedom and Civilization (1944b). Except for brief references in his diary and in his most obscure publications (Malinowski 1937:133-68; 1962) which seem to draw on this early essay (while not acknowledging influence), Malinowski did not mention Nietzsche. The writings collected in this volume, then, reveal that Malinowski's most important ideas were embedded in a rich European intellectual tradition which he absorbed and partially transformed. Probably because he consciously sought to proclaim himself a prophet of a new anthropology, Malinowski did not adequately acknowledge these roots in his own English-language writings. While Malinowski acknowledged the influence of the anthropologists Frazer, Westermarck, and Seligman, and the German economist Biicher, the nature and direction of this influence is never clear from the few brief footnotes that Malinowski included. These essays offer some surprising insights into the way he used the source materials we already know about. For example, while he praised Frazer in English (1925; 1944), in his work published in Polish he made it clear that Frazer was important mainly because of the clarity of his errors and as an undigested archive of ethnological information, most of it also methodologically flawed. What Malinowski learned from Frazer was how not to do anthropology, but this is only clear in his Polish writing, written long before he realized that he would require Frazer's patronage. Many will be surprised to learn of the much more important influence of Friedrich Nietzsche and Ernst Mach. Again, while something is known about Mach's influence on Malinowski, we have not had the source material which would allow us to explore the nature of this influence. Nietzsche, too, is mentioned by Malinowski in his diary, but the depth and importance of his influence has not yet been explored.2 Finally, these documents reveal the extent of Malinowski's acquaintance with the socio-

Introduction logical, historical, anthropological and philosophical literature available in the first decade of this century. These texts represent one careful reader's response to texts of his time, a response which has been among the most intellectually productive of this century. Malinowski's early essays, then, deal primarily with three influential thinkers: Nietzsche, Mach, and Frazer. Nietzsche's essay The Birth of Tragedy and Malinowski's response to it suggest that this, and not Frazer, may well have been the critical 'turning point' in Malinowski's decision to direct his career into the science of society. Nietzsche raised for Malinowski as the problem of how science (Wissenschaft) is possible. Mach raised the question of knowledge (Erkenntnis) and error (Irrtum) as the problem of the techniques and process for doing science. Together, these insights clarified the fundamental problems and conventions of European science for Malinowski so that when he did encounter Frazer he was intellectually prepared to leap beyond the limitations of Frazer's theories by means of an extremely powerful set of intellectual methods. Frazer's simplistic notion of a straightforward evolution from 'magic' to 'religion' to 'science', his lack of rigour, his genial credibility in the face of ethnographic reports by amateurs of all kinds and his tolerance for multiple and contradictory conclusions in his own writing were all attacked and rejected, but the substantive questions that Frazer asked still remained. Nietzsche and Mach, on the other hand, contributed few substantive problems and would not have been sufficient without the data that Frazer provided. It would not be an exaggeration to say that Malinowski's anthropology grows out of his application of a unique synthesis of the thought of Mach and Nietzsche to Frazer's ethnological projects. Frazer's ill-conceived problems are not solved, but rather 'dissolved' along with the contemporary intellectual ground which made them seem like valid problems. Malinowski ruptures the boundaries of Frazer's specific discourse to ask 'Does Totemism exist at all?' 'Is "magic" not in fact a practice or technique rather than an intellectual category?' 'Can we retrieve the ''origins" of a belief or of a part of culture - and what, after all, do we mean by "belief", "a part of culture", or "origins"?' The concrete result of this transcendence is a series of detailed ethnographic studies, methodological treatises and philosophical statements that rejected an ethnological discourse and founded a

Malinowski's early writings truly anthropological discourse around concepts of myth as charter, the function of cultural wholes, reciprocity in social relations, the nature of value, the fiction of kinship, the pragmatics of language use, and many other powerful new ideas and problems. Malinowski's inquiry into Nietzsche's 'abhorrence of the "beyond" [jenseits]' is more than a pragmatist's critique of metaphysics. The use that Nietzsche made of the concepts of myth and function gave new direction to Malinowski, and Nietzsche's role in Malinowski's formulation of his version of functionalism remains relevant since the theoretical adequacy of 'functionalism' still remains at issue (cf. Gellner 1986; 1987). Malinowski began to apply aspects of Nietzsche's insights and methods drawn especially from The Birth of Tragedy (1872) and the Genealogy of Morals (1887) right from the beginning, and the themes of myth, morality, sexuality, punishment, the nature of power and order in the midst of apparent chaos, the nature and power of knowledge, and the relationship between words and things are traceable from his first publications in English to his last. And Malinowski's wilful effort to impose his own stamp on anthropology while declaring that its erstwhile 'gods' were if not dead then at least in their twilight suggests a Zarathustra in the London School of Economics more than an Argonaut or even a Zeno from Cracow (cf. Gellner 1987). Apart from Frazer, the other major animus in the essays included here is Ernst Mach (1838-1916). Ernst Mach is known today as the leading exponent of positivism and monism in late nineteenth-century Europe, as well as for his many scientific achievements in the physics of heat, fluid-dynamic systems and mechanics, and in psycho-physics (the name given then to the study of the physiology of perception). His gesture towards a general relativistic theory of knowledge inspired significant advances in the fields of physics, biology, history, philosophy of science, psychology and anthropology.3 Indeed, Mach himself made significant forays into all of these fields, giving his name to 'Mach bands' in the field of perceptual psychology among other contributions in diverse fields.4 Malinowski did not adopt the radical monism of Mach himself, nor agree fully with Mach's claim to find in positivism the route to certain knowledge (though not necessarily to truth). 5 Nevertheless, Mach's view that the world and our human experience of

Introduction it is the only possible grounds for truth certainly saved Malinowski from the consuming and destructive nihilism of Nietzsche. Mach believed that it was the human experience of the world, not the world as such (an sich) nor the transcendent Idea, that provided both the possibility of knowledge and the grounds for its evaluation. Mach's world was a fully human one because there was no other. Its mastery was achieved locally, not cosmically, and the standards for its measure - and thus for the measure of truth - were the daily activities of people in their own characteristic environments, 'forms of life', and in terms of their own histories. For Mach as for Malinowski, this pragmatic and human perspective on the world provided the scope of science simply because 'there is no cognitive alternative to science . . . no cosmic perspective to provide a greater scope' (Cohen 1970:132). Mach believed, then, that because all knowledge is achieved and evaluated through sensation all measurement is, therefore, relative to other measurements and not absolute. Thus, for example, the Mach number, a ratio of the velocity of a body to the variable density of the medium in which it travels is used today instead of a more direct measurement of speed (such as km/h) for supersonic aircraft. By contrast, Nietzsche's relativism (more correctly termed 'perspectivism') states that knowledge is obtained and evaluated relative to the power or will of persons with specific attitudes or interests. Thus it is Mach's relativism rather than Nietzsche's 'perspectivism' that provides a foundation for Malinowski's exquisitely nuanced ethnography of local contexts and his balanced or 'weak' relativism. 6 In fact, Mach's relativism can be said to have failed in his own major field, physics, since most people now agree, as Mach himself never could, that atoms and their parts really exist in nature and are not merely the convenient and provisional fictions of the human mind. The failure (or success) of relativism is not yet so clear in social science. Today the nature of a sociological and cultural 'reality' - whether social concepts and practices are fictions coerced by power, imposed by history, implicit in human nature, immanent in Nature or, by contrast, really Real - is still a matter of intense debate. Mach's precepts - as these are interpreted and applied by Malinowski - contribute to a debate that is still fresh and urgent. Finally, James Frazer's influence on anthropology has been declared a dead letter many times before, not the least by

Malinowski's early writings Malinowski7 and by Frazer's most recent biographer (Ackerman 1987). Nevertheless, the issues that Frazer raised are still very much with us (Thornton 1988), and Malinowski's critique of Frazer's methods and results yields some surprising and far-reaching results. Nietzsche and Mach emerge in these documents as the sparks that ignited Malinowski's intellectual fire, but Frazer is his fuel and ore, and out of the critical intensity which Malinowski focusses on his ethnology emerge much light as well as the complex alloy of methods, data and ideas that is modern anthropology. Malinowski continued to rework the intellectual product of his 'Polish period' in the forges of Australia, Mailu, The Trobriands, Africa, Mexico and Europe to produce masterpieces of anthropology. Since these works are read with profit today, we can only benefit from understanding the intellectual matrix out of which they were crystallized. Mach, Nietzsche and Frazer ranged broadly and boldly over the intellectual disciplines of philosophy, science, and the humanities, but, except for Frazer, their influence on anthropology has scarcely been known, let alone acknowledged. The empty places in Malinowski's intellectual gallery are also surprising. Nowhere is Karl Marx even so much as mentioned, although the socialist writers Friedrich Engels and August Bebel receive notice. Max Weber was perhaps too near a contemporary, and too little published to have attracted Malinowski's attention during this time, but Weber, Georg Simmel, and other German social theorists, with the obvious exception of Nietzsche, are not mentioned. Malinowski was clearly fully aware of the work of Durkheim and his students Hubert, Mauss and van Gennep, among others. Nevertheless, except to direct some attacks on the uncritical gullibility of Durkheim that led him to found elaborate theories on the limited and sometimes doubtful Central Australian ethnography of Spencer and Gillen, Malinowski does not develop further any of their ideas. These early essays and notes, of course, do not show that Malinowski was not aware of Marx, Weber, and Simmel, but only that he did not write about them at length. On the other hand, the threads that lead from Mach, Nietzsche and Frazer are clearly discernible throughout the writing collected here, and beyond, into the broad weave of twentieth-century anthropology through Malinowski's contribution to it.

Introduction MALINOWSKI'S PERSONAL AND INTELLECTUAL DEVELOPMENT

A full biography of Malinowski is yet to be written. Fifty years after his death, Malinowski remains a deus ex machina of anthropology for the simple reason that his roots are unknown. Bibliographies of works on Malinowski today contain over 100 titles and interest in him has grown rapidly. Fortunately, new facts are also emerging which are starting to modify some of the commonly held stereotypes of Malinowski (M. Flis and Paluch 1985; Kubica-Klyszcz 1982; Martinek 1981; Paluch 1981a; Skalnik 1982; Stocking 1983; Thornton 1985; Young 1984). Malinowski grew up and became a scholar in the intellectual environment of Cracow in the Polish-speaking Austrian province of Galicia. He used the Polish language until his departure for Australia and New Guinea in June 1914. His intimate fieldwork diary (Malinowski 1967), as is well-known, was also written in Polish and refers often to his Polish background. The cultural values and conceptual apparatus that he acquired during the first thirty years of his life - the greater part - could not fail to exercise a powerful influence over the remaining twenty-eight years of Malinowski, the man and the anthropologist. Bronislaw Kasper8 Malinowski was born in Cracow on 7 April 1884, the only child of Lucjan Feliks Jan Malinowski and Jozefa, nee L§cka. The Malinowski family belonged to the Polish gentry, zemianstwo, and had its own coat of arms, but the family had long since lost any wealth or land that might once have belonged to it. In later life, when established as an anthropologist, Malinowski would remind people of his 'nobility' with a mixture of vanity and humour (see H. Kuper 1978:5). Malinowski's father and mother, married in Warsaw in 1883, were both established, well-educated and urbanized. Malinowski's mother, Jozefa (1848-1918), was probably financially better endowed than her husband since her father, Leopold L§cki, had been counsellor to the General Attorney of the Kingdom of Poland and later State Counsellor and member of the Senate. Malinowski's father was an eminent philologist and folklorist who was involved in the establishment of the Cracow school of Slavonic folklore studies. Like so many Poles of his time, the senior Malinowski was caught between Germany and Russia, attending universities of both of these occupying powers. His PhD was obtained from the University of Leipzig in 1872, where his son was to proceed in order to

Malinowski's early writings study Volkerpsychologie under Wilhelm Wundt and Volkswirtschaft with Karl Biicher, in 1908-10. Malinowski's father joined the Cracow academia after 1867 when Galicia became autonomous within Austria. The Jagiellonian University, founded 1364, had then gained the right to teach in Polish only. Lucjan Malinowski became professor of Slavonic philology in 1877, seven years before Bronislaw's birth. He studied the comparative philology of the Slavic languages and concentrated on the dialects and ethnography of Silesia. Lucjan Malinowski died of a heart attack in 1898 when his son was only fourteen years old (Borowska 1971:3H[). Bronislaw Malinowski, affectionately called Bronio or Bronek by his family and friends, was considered to be a sickly child and suffered from visual and respiratory problems. In 1901, an operation on his eyes caused his studies to be interrupted (Flis 1985:249). Both parents helped Bronio with his school work while he was not able to attend, and when his father died in 1898, the burden fell on his mother. Bronio was by that time a student of the Jan Sobieski III Imperial and Royal Gymnasium, the best grammar school in Galicia, but he only attended classes during the year 1899-1900. Among his teachers was Jan Bystron a former pupil of Lucjan Malinowski, who was known as an outstanding ethnographer and dialectologist. During the other eight years, he was tutored by his mother and others. As a grammar school student Malinowski completed eight years of Latin and six years of Greek in addition to the modern languages, German, French, English and Italian. When Bronio's vision and general state of health deteriorated, a friend of Bronio's late father, Dr Dobrski, offered some financial assistance which enabled mother and son to go to Biskra in Algeria, where Bronio's vision and health improved. He returned to Cracow for his final school exams, and passed them with great success in 1902 (Borowska 1971:5; Dubowski 1984). On 6th October, 1902, Malinowski entered the Jagiellonian University with a special stipend he received as the son of a university professor. He matriculated in the Faculty of Philosophy. In 1905, he received the Potocki Foundation stipend for Polish noblemen worth 315 Austrian crowns per year and in 1906 he also received 600 Austrian crowns from the Barczewski Foundation (KubicaKlyszcz 1985:264). He studied for only four years before reaching 10

Introduction the so-called absolutorium which enabled him to write exams and defend his thesis in 1906. Cracow at the time of Malinowski's youth The Jagiellonian University was one of the oldest universities in Europe. The city of Krakow (Cracow) was the centre of the old Polish state, and was filled with architectural monuments such as the gothic Collegium Maius (the seat of the university) and the renaissance Sukienice building on the main city square. The castle Wawel, the nerve of the then defunct Polish Commonwealth, dominated the city. The nearby resort of Zakopane in the Tatra mountain was becoming fashionable among a group of young intellectuals. Malinowski and his friends used to spend their holidays there. It was a gateway to the romantic folk culture of the Goraly (Highlanders) , pastoralists of the Tatra mountains. The Goraly, with their distinctive costumes and traditions, were the first 'natives' that Malinowski encountered, and much later he referred to them as the 'semi-savage Carpathian mountaineers' (Malinowski 1962:169). Officially, Poland did not exist at the time of Malinowski's youth. In 1794 it had been divided between Russia, Prussia and Austria, and the last outpost of independence, the Republic of Cracow, was annexed by Austria in 1846 and incorporated into the so-called Kingdom of Galicia and Lodomeria, which was part of the Austrian Empire. Poland had become 'a figment of the imagination'. The Polish literary and artistic movement, Mtoda Volska, 'Young Poland', helped to preserve and to celebrate a national culture which had no autonomous political territory. Young Poland expressed in a Polish idiom and context the modernist currents in Western and Central European religion, poetry, painting, theatre and drama. The streets of old Cracow were home to students and other young and talented people. A literary review called Z/cie (Life) and an artistic society, Sztuka (Art), were founded in Cracow at that time. During the last year of Malinowki's studies at the Jagiellonian University the Cyganeria, ('Bohemians') gathered in Jama Michalikowa ('Michalik's Cave') and at a cabaret called Zietony Balonik, 'The Little Green Balloon'. These places and their bohemian patrons, 11

Malinowski's early writings Malinowski's friends among them, soon acquired a reputation for decadence and excess among the established citizens of Cracow (Segel 1960: 75—80). Most of Bronistaw's friends, who were artists rather than students, were associated with the Young Poland movement, though Malinowski himself seems not to have been directly involved. His closest friend, Stanislaw (Stas) Ignacy Witkiewicz, who later used the pen-name 'Witkacy' (1885-1939), was in the avant garde of the movement as a writer, playwright, poet and painter and photographer. His other friends included Leon Chwistek, Tadeusz Boy Zelenski, Tadeusz Szymberski, Jerzy Zulawski and his wife Kazimiera, who were writers and poets and Zygmunt Zulawski, brother of Jerzy, who was a socialist politician. Bronio, Stas and Leon Chwistek engaged in philosophical debates, wrote verses, plays, intimate diaries9 and, very importantly, imaginary scientific essays.10 The intensity of this intellectual cameraderie made some of the young men's parents anxious. Stas's father, Stanisiaw Witkiewicz, wrote several letters to his son in which he expressed dissatisfaction with the close friendship between his son and Malinowski who he thought was fickle, self-centred and cynical (Witkiewicz 1969:280-2, 571). Malinowski later called this his 'Nietzsche period',11 and it certainly seems to have caused anxiety among his teachers and the parents of his friends. Clearly, the relationship between Malinowski and Witkacy was often unbalanced since Stas was more dependent on Bronio than Bronio was on him. This dependency is documented in Witkacy's letters for Malinowski and Malinowski's replies during the years 1937-8 (Witkiewicz 1981). They corresponded fitfully throughout their lives. Witkiewicz wrote a highly biographical novel, 622 Downfalls of Bungo, Or a Demonic Woman12 that portrays the life of Cracow bohemians, the heroes being Bungo (= Witkacy), Baron Brummel ( = Chwistek), Edgar, Duke of Nevermore (= Malinowski) and Tymbeusz (= Szymberski). In some passages the text was adjusted after 1920 when Malinowski and other protagonists became well-known (this was confirmed by Witkacy himself; see Zulawski 1978:236). In any case Bungo and Nevermore are pictured by the author as fin-de-siecle aesthetes. For example: Nevermore lit up a cigar and looked around the room. His haircut was short, cut by a barber's mechanical shears; he asserted that with that frisure he impressed women, especially in southern countries (1978:64). 12

Introduction Or especially: The duke [as punishment] for some unheard of crimes he committed in the lanes of Whitechapel with a couple of lords, was sentenced to deportation to New Guinea, where he wrote a work (The Golden Bough of Pleasure - Edgar, Duke of Nevermore, Cambridge University Press) - so outstandingly describing the perversions of these seemingly savage people, who are called contemptuously the Papuans, that he returned after a couple of years to England as a Member of the British Association for the Advancement of Science and Fellow of The Royal Society. His further life was only a series of wild, spurious triumphs. (Witkiewicz 1978: cf. Micinska 1967)13

University studies Malinowski's reading list, the 'Index Lectionum'14 shows that his studies concentrated at first on physical science and mathematics, and later on philosophy and psychology. Mathematics courses included analytical geometry, calculus and logic, while physical science courses covered elementary chemistry and physics, with special courses in heat, electricity and magnetism, waves and light, with several labs and theory courses. The essay on Nietzsche, published in this volume, was written during one of several courses on Nietzsche's philosophy taught by the Roman Catholic priest, Father Pawlicki. Courses on 'theory of heat', 'theoretical mechanics', 'theory of electrons', 'dynamics of electrons', 'atomic physics' and 'critical positivism' would have drawn heavily on the work of Ernst Mach, and probably also Richard Avenarius. Study of pedagogy, psychology, ethics, social policy, Slavic ethnology and philosophy of the state would have introduced him to the sociological literatures on the family, religion, work, and kinship that he drew on in other writings during the period 1904 to 1914. We must remember, too, that he was reading physical sciences during the time that physics was being revolutionized in the laboratories of Central Europe in ways that would change the world for ever. In such an environment, a fusion of Nietzsche and Mach is perhaps less surprising than it might otherwise have been. In April, 1906, Malinowski travelled with his mother to Florence, Pisa and Rome, before returning to Poland in order to sit two examinations, the so-called rigorosa in October, 1906. He wrote two examination papers, one in philosophy and one in 13

Malinowski's early writings physics. He attained summa cum laude in both. In July, under the supervision of Father Pawlicki he completed his Doctor of Philosophy dissertation, 'On the Principle of the Economy of Thought' (Flis 1985:248). It was seventy-five hand-written pages long. Immediately after the examinations, and without waiting for his graduation, Malinowski and his mother left for the Canary Islands in hopes that Malinowski's health would improve there. Malinowski wrote to Pawlicki from Santa Cruz de la Palma on 7 January 1907: I have given myself totally to the health resort routine: first of all, I eat a lot and sleep besides; I bathe in the sea and in the sun. All day long I sit on the seashore; in a word, I am peaceful, happy and idle. (Ellen et al., 1988:203; M. Flis and Paluch 1985:260) In 1907, while Malinowski was still in the Canary Islands, he wrote to the Emperor Franz Josef I of Austro-Hungary to request that he graduate sub auspiciis Imperatoris, 'Under Imperial Auspices', the highest possible honour for a young academic at that time: As the son of a university professor, involved early in the sphere of science despite sickness and unhappy fate which at the age of 14 years brought the death of my father, this humble subject has continued his studies unabatingly and now nurtures the hope that the love of Your Imperial and Royal Majesty will provide him with the best impetus for further work in the service of science. (Flis 1988: 196) The request was granted. After returning to Poland, Malinowski received his PhD degree 'with great pomp, to the sound of an orchestra and flourish of trumpets at 12 o'clock on 7 November 1908 in the University Aula Collegium Novum' (Flis 1988:199). After receiving the doctorate, Malinowski went to Leipzig where he studied with Wilhelm Wundt, the father of the Volkerpsychologie approach, and the then-famous economist Karl Biicher. Biicher's deep interest in primitive economics inspired Malinowski's own interest in this area that culminated in his first ethnographic monograph, Argonauts of the Western Pacific (1922). While in Leipzig, he wrote to his teacher Pawlicki that he had no interest in becoming a grammar school teacher, as Pawlicki had proposed. He wanted to improve his qualifications and wrote to say 'I am very keen on going to England for at least a year, for there it seems to me, culture has reached its highest 14

Introduction standard' (Ellen et al. 1988:204). He received the Barczewski stipend for training as a university teacher and studied in London for almost four years, returning frequently to Poland to see his mother. During this time he wrote several book reviews in Polish, including the review of Frazer's Totemism and Exogamy, published here, and his book in Polish, Wierzenia pierwotne i formy ustroju spotecznego (Primitive Beliefs and Forms of Social Structure) which was published in 1915, but not translated into English.15 In London, Malinowski studied at the London School of Economics, and, besides his Polish works on Frazer and on religion, published another work in English, The Family among the Australian Aborigines (1913). Based entirely on library research, it was praised by Marrett and Radcliffe-Brown, and is still in print. This book exemplifies Malinowski's early sociological method. In it Malinowski examines the role that the social institution of the family plays in maintaining social order. It entirely neglects evolutionist reconstructions and history but does not explicitly reject these approaches. During this period, too, Malinowski also wrote several lectures and occasional articles in Polish, English and German, several of which the present volume makes available in English for the first time. He also contributed a number of reviews to different journals. By the time Malinowski left for Australia with Witkiewicz as his photographer and draughtsman on an expedition to New Guinea, he was already known in Britain through his teaching and publications. He closed this period with the paper, 'A fundamental problem of religious sociology' which he presented, while en route to New Guinea, at the 1914 meeting of the British Association for the Advancement of Science which was held in Australia. The news of the outbreak of war in Europe reached him while he and Witkiewicz were in Australia. The war caused the break between him and Witkiewicz who left Malinowski in New Guinea in order to fight for Russia. In his diary, Malinowski described the rupture as 'Nietzsche breaking with Wagner'. Malinowski, an Austrian subject, did not fight in the war. The field work and the war cut Malinowski off from Poland and from his mother who died in 1918 while Malinowski was working in the Trobriand Islands for the second time. When he returned to Europe in 1920, he was married to Elsie Masson, a British woman who had been born and raised in Australia. Though Malinowski 15

Malinowski's early writings obtained a Polish passport in Melbourne, and considered returning to Poland with his wife, his attachment to British anthropology drew him to London, while the prospect of a career in a Poland impoverished by war did not attract him. By combining his continental philosophical knowledge with innovative and long-term fieldwork in New Guinea, Malinowski created an approach to anthropology that soon drew students from throughout the Commonwealth. Malinowski's career as one of the founders of British social anthropology had begun. THE NIETZSCHE ESSAY: A CHARTER FOR A THEORY OF MYTH

The Birth of Tragedy was Nietzsche's first published work, and reflects the youthful enthusiasm of the young philologist and classics scholar. It points the way towards themes and obsessions that Nietzsche took up later, especially in the Genealogy of Morals (Berkowitz 1987:74). Similarly, Bronislaw Malinowski's essay on Nietzsche's The Birth of Tragedy is the earliest of Malinowski's scholarly writings. It opens a door on ideas that directed his research for the rest of his life. The texts: Malinowski and Nietzsche This essay was probably written for a University course on The philosophy of Nietzsche', taught by Professor Pawlicki, during the year 1904/5. Though Malinowski never published or referred to this essay, he kept it among his papers and took it with him to America.16 It provides an important key to our understanding of the sources and motives for his theoretical and ethnographic opus. Malinowski's text should not be confused with works by Nietzsche scholars. His is an essay by a twenty-year-old PhD student that reveals a search for his own distinctive way to become either a great scholar or an artist. There was little or no secondary literature on which he could rely, so his encounter with Nietzsche's text is unmediated by other critical assessments. It shows that the roots of Malinowski's influential theory of 'myth as charter', and his supposed theoretical a-historicism lie in his efforts to understand Nietzsche's revolutionary approach to Classical tragedy and mythology. These ideas echo everywhere in his ethnographic writing, essays and personal correspondence. Since very little of the intellectual work on which Malinowski 16

Introduction had drawn was known in England, the sophistication of his ethnographic writing appeared as if out of nowhere. Its style, moreover, convincingly presented what seemed to be a nearly transparent window that looked out on coral gardens and canoedotted oceans. As Clifford Geertz has said, Malinowski was a convincing 'I-witness' because he convinced us that he was an authentic T, and that he was genuinely 'there'. 17 The early essay on Nietzsche allows us to situate Malinowski's work much more firmly in the philosophical and intellectual tradition of which it is a part, and, in so doing, to understand better the nature of the window he gave us. This perspective on his intellectual development is also a significant contribution to our general understanding of the rise of functionalism and of the significance of social anthropology in the social sciences and humanities in this century.18 It demonstrates an important linkage between Malinowski's version of anthropology and other modernist movements in the twentieth century. Malinowski read Nietzsche critically. He rejected, with careful consideration, many of Nietzsche's views, but he took from him a new and fertile concept of myth, and a particular approach to history. For while Nietzsche's essay is a sort of myth about texts, it is also a text about myth. What challenges us in an attempt to clarify Malinowski's understanding, however, is the forward trajectory of these ideas into Malinowski's fieldwork and the direct social confrontation between Malinowski and the natives of Australia, Mailu and Kiriwina, with Nietzsche tucked somewhere in a corner of his mind. The structure of the essay The essay is divided into five numbered parts. The first part defines 'metaphysics', and presents a critique of Schopenhauer's (and, thus Nietzsche's) approach to metaphysics. The second part introduces Malinowski's concept of myth, and declares Nietzsche's The Birth of Tragedy to be a myth about myth: This book', he wrote, 'is itself- as a form of creativity, a conception of thought - a myth'. The third part is especially interesting today, since it is here that he develops a 'functional' reading of Nietzsche's main critical categories, and develops some ideas about how art, myth and metaphysics are related. A fourth section praises Nietzsche's skill as an 'artist', but notes that the enduring part of 17

Malinowski's early writings Nietzsche's work is not his artistry but rather his having raised the question of the nature of tragedy in relation to 'thought', life and art. The fifth section then introduces Malinowski's main argument concerning the psychological function of art, and the relationship of thought (science) to tragedy (myth). There is finally - though Malinowski does not mark it off explicitly in his own text - a conclusion in which Malinowski discusses some of the chief practical implications of his reading of Nietzsche for further research. Metaphysics Malinowski begins with a criticism of Nietzsche's dependence on the metaphysics of Schopenhauer. He asserts that the entire edifice of Nietzsche's essay stands or falls on the validity of Schopenhauer's metaphysics. Malinowski understood metaphysics as the effort to anthropomorphize the world of objective reality. He argued that German metaphysics in general, and Nietzsche's metaphysics in The Birth of Tragedy in particular, is an attempt to 'subjectivize' or 'humanize' the objective world of things. Thus, while 'from a purely scientific point of view', metaphysics does possess 'a system of exact and pure concepts', the philosophical goal of metaphysical inquiry cannot be achieved. This is because no simple anthropomorphism of the world can ever make the 'world of reality simply human'. The ultimate reality of the objective world is 'forever closed' to the world of thought and emotions. Nevertheless, Malinowski claims, metaphysics is a universal 'symptom of the human soul' because humans have a need to understand their environment in human terms, and this implies that they must anthropomorphize it. Thus, concepts of the Christian God, Hegel's Geist, Leibniz's monads, Schopenhauer's 'Will', among others, are all attempts to understand the world as if it were human. Since the world is not human, they fail to achieve real knowledge. Malinowski gives a brief summary of Schopenhauer's doctrine of Will. In brief, the Will is the 'universal absolute', what we find behind the 'mere appearance' of the world. The 'ego' of the human individual is a fragment of the universal Will. In effect, the relation 'Will is to Universe as soul is to body' applies. But in order to realize itself in the world, to 'assume its body', as 18

Introduction Malinowski puts it, the Universal Will must submit to the conditions of time, space and causality and thus becomes fragmented into individuals. This fragmentation is the essential and inescapable Tragedy of the world, and is the source of all evil. Malinowski's inspiration for this criticism of Nietzsche comes from two sources. First of all, the belief that 'objective reality' can never be penetrated by human consciousness, but only described and conceptualized, is one of the tenets of Ernst Mach's empiricism.19 The ethnologist, Robert Lowie, characterized this position as the assertion of the autonomy of psychology with regard to physics (Lowie 1947:65). Later in the essay, Malinowski specifically applies 'empirical criticisms' to Nietzsche's argument, and, while he is unlikely to have read James, he had almost certainly read Mach's major early works by the time he wrote this essay. More problematic, however, is his assertion that metaphysics is simply an anthropomorphism of the world. Similar arguments were being used by Auguste Comte in his initial formulation of the doctrine of positivism and later taken up by James Frazer, Wilhelm Wundt and Adolf Bastian. All of them, however, used this notion to characterize primitive religion, not European metaphysics. Malinowski was bold enough, however, to apply it to Nietzsche. Later in the essay, he explicitly compares the Catholic Mass to primitive religious ritual, so the reflexive use of ethnographic arguments in this way was clearly a challenging critical strategy for him. Malinowski claims that Nietzsche simply takes over this metaphysics, and translates Will as 'Dionysos' and the 'principium individuationis' as 'Apollo', and so constructs a story from this. Nietzsche's story, however, is no longer 'metaphysical transcendentalism' in the conventional European Philosophical sense, but amounts to a search for aesthetic values. Malinowski believes that Nietzsche is now no longer concerned with 'ultimate reality' - that is, with traditional metaphysics - but rather with 'man's attitude towards the world'. This insight recurs again in these early essays when Malinowski suddenly understands Totemism' not as a false analytic logic of categories but as 'a certain attitude towards the environment'. The relationship between man and the world, Malinowski calls 'life'. So, while the interaction of the Universal Will and universal reality generates evil, the interaction of pure thought and pure emotion generates metaphysics, and the interaction of man and 19

Malinowski's early writings the world in living, generates value. Malinowski believes that myth and dogma (one 'living', the other 'fossilized') are attempts to deal with the problem of evil. This introduction of the concept of value gave Malinowski a theoretical basis for the incorporation of a theory of myth and meaning into a general theory of human endeavour which includes, among other aspects, the economic activities as well as the expressive and artistic activities of social groups. Myth Malinowski goes on to claim that art, metaphysics, and myth are 'genetically related'. This means that they share a common thread of motivation, rather than a common origin. All are predicated on the existence of inescapable dichotomies that are characteristic of the structure of the human mind itself, and all permit jumps between different kinds or orders of reality. In other words, they are all essential functions of the human mind. These statements make it clear that Malinowski has already taken myth out of the 'past' and begun to consider it as a functional element of the present. Although he has not yet formulated the 'functional' link between myth and social organization that is the crucial element of the 'myth as charter' idea, he no longer considers it as in any way original or primordial. At the same time, this passage suggests additional reasons why Malinowski's rhetorical commitment to empiricism was never entirely realized in his ethnography (Thornton 1985:7-14). At this stage, at least, he recognized the inadequacy of mere empiricism to provide answers to the questions that humans inevitably ask about themselves. The evidence of his essay on Nietzsche, of course, disproves his claim to have learned 'functional co-relation between myth and ritual in the field'.20 Even as he was creating his image as preeminent ethnographer, it is clear that the ideas of Schopenhauer and Nietzsche were still with Malinowski ten years later in New Guinea. Indeed, it could be argued, the functional relationship between myth and ritual had already been implicitly recognized by Nietzsche. Nietzsche recognized that Greek culture, especially Greek myth, was profoundly immoral, chaotic, barbaric and violent. The 'Greek problem', then, was to explain the achievement of 20

Introduction Socratic Philosophy and Athenian architecture from its 'origins' in irrationality and immoral social chaos. The modern problems which Nietzsche claimed had 'spoiled' his book, were for most Germans of his day essentially the same: how to explain, and thus justify, the emergence of the nation state - which many believed to be the modern embodiment of rationality and culture - in the midst of violence, hatred, economic collapse and religious doubt.21 Since Nietzsche originally wrote the book while serving as a medical orderly amidst the battles of the Franco-Prussian War in 1870-1, it is not surprising that these questions should be merged. Even for a classical philologist of Nietzsche's standing, 'the Greek problem' could not be separated from 'the modern problems' while the fighting still continued. Of course, Nietzsche's fusion of the Greek problem with the modern problem had far-reaching consequences. By linking the 'problem' of the decline of the Greek Golden age with what he believed was the decline or decadence of Germany, he showed the way in which deep roots of virulent nationalism could suck sustenance from classical and anthropological scholarship. Nevertheless, his methodological innovation in The Birth of Tragedy distinguishes it from virtually all other social philosophy of his day. Nietzsche did not attempt to account for the antinomies of enlightened rationality and 'barbaric' irrationality in terms of 'class' (elite Athenians vs. the demos, 'people') or evolution (more vs. less evolved consciousness), or in terms of ethnic dominance or national conquest ('cultural diffusionism', conquest of primitive autochthons by powerful barbarians). Instead, The Birth of Tragedy attempted to show that both the creative/ barbaric spirit of Dionysus and formalism and control of Apollo constituted two aspects of a common culture - a whole which contained them both. This achievement was possible only with a new concept: the idea that myth was somehow both constitutive of the present and derived from the past. This recognition forms the basis for Malinowski's first-level evaluation of The Birth of Tragedy. Malinowski first defines myth as a 'category of reference to the historical past', but he opposes myth to 'pure history', which concerns itself with the reconstruction of facts, on the one hand, and 'scientific history (sociology)' which seeks 'laws of historical becomings'. Myth, for Malinowski at this stage of his thinking, is characterized as 'the embodiment of ideals', 'images of the past. . . drawn from another dimension', 21

Malinowski's early writings 'the artistic complement' of dogma, but above all it acts to 'entwine the present in a set of norms and subordinates the present to itself ethically'. This definition of myth does not apply only to the Greeks. He applied it also to all those who posed the 'problem of the Greeks': Winckelmann, Goethe and, above all, Nietzsche. Malinowski thus extends the concept of myth into a general anthropological concept or category. In other words, in asserting that there can be modern (or contemporary) myths about myth, he is extending the concept beyond the status of a descriptive category applying to primitive thought alone. It becomes instead a theoretical concept capable of generating new research and insights. Malinowski argues that Nietzsche's use of the images of ancient Greece created a mythical 'paradise', a 'bright island', which he employed in the same way that the Ancient mythologists employed Mount Olympus. The 'myth' of Hellas is the chief myth of modern Europe, just as the myth of Olympus was the chief myth of the Ancient Greeks. Malinowski, unlike Nietzsche, universalizes the concept of myth. It becomes a universal mode of knowing. No longer just a type of knowledge, a 'genre' among other genres, myth is now understood as something altogether different, and always present. Myth, conceived as a mode of knowing ('a form of apprehension'), became for Malinowski - and after him, for the discipline of anthropology - a central tenet of the anthropological method. According to this view, myth has a 'function', a role in social life. Myth provides an explanation of what is in terms of what was, but more than this it 'transforms the directness of the emotional' into another dimension where the immediacy of pain and suffering are schematized and consequently dulled. Malinowski uses the example of the Christian myth of Christ's suffering, but asserts that the mythical process, though not the content, 'would be analogous everywhere'. It is this, in fact, which he attempts to prove in his essay 'Tribal male associations in Australia' (1912; reprinted in this volume), and in his first Trobriand text, 'Baloma: the spirits of the dead in the Trobriand Islands' (Malinowski 1916). Myth, he argues is 'a concept of reality', and as such provides an intellectual method that is similar to metaphysics, genetically related to it, though different from metaphysics in significant 22

Introduction ways. While metaphysics is concerned with the relationship between thought and emotions and between appearances and reality, myth is concerned with the relationship between the past and the present. These words prefigure the definition of myth that he gave, for example in 'Myth in primitive psychology' where myth is described as a statement of primeval reality which still lives in the present-day life and as a justification by precedent, supplies a retrospective pattern of moral values, sociological order, and magical belief. [Myth] is . . . neither a mere narrative, nor a form of science, nor a branch of art or history, nor an explanatory tale. It fulfils a function sui generis closely connected with the nature of tradition, and the continuity of culture, with the relation between age and youth, and with the human attitude towards the past. (Malinowski 1926a: 147) But, since myth 'ethically' subordinates the past to the present, it results in the denial of history, and the denial of time. As he further wrote: Myth is therefore an indispensable ingredient of all culture. It is . . . constantly regenerated; every historical change creates its mythology, which is, however, but indirectly related to historical fact. Myth is a constant by-product of living faith, which demands precedent; of moral rule, which requires sanction. (Malinowski 1926a:147) Malinowski's use of this new concept of myth is reflexive. He uses it not to ponder the problem of the Greeks, but rather to ask why this problem should be posed at all, and why it should be posed as such. The Birth of Tragedy, then, is an extreme form of 'the cult of Hellas'. What Malinowski has already perceived as Nietzsche's slide away from philosophical metaphysics into aesthetic justification - in Nietzsche's words, 'that the existence of the world is justified only as an aesthetic phenomenon' (Nietzsche 1968(1886) :22, sect. 5) - is what we would expect myth to do. 'Aside from searching for the lost paradise', Malinowski writes, myth 'consists in seeing a justification for the moral order of the world in the past'. Nietzsche's work, then, seems more like myth than philosophy to Malinowski. This recognition seems to release him from the spell of Nietzsche's rhetoric, and he begins, in the next section of the essay, to demolish Nietzsche's fundamental conceptual distinction between the 'Apollonian' form-giving interpretive tendency and the Dionysian 'creative chaos'. 23

Malinowski's early writings A plan of research Malinowski concludes his analysis of Nietzsche's essay and thought with an apology. He recognizes that his own criticism has dealt primarily with Nietzsche's 'metaphysics', and, as such, can not be submitted to any rigorous proof. More importantly, it does not suggest a 'positive' approach to research on matters which are clearly fundamental. The role of metaphysical analysis is that it provides a direction for a programme of research, some of which may be also metaphysical, while other parts are empirical. He then suggests four areas of empirical study that would shed light on the 'problem of tragedy'. First, a study of the 'forms of myth' and their influence on creativity would shed light on the forms of thought that we do not yet understand. One aspect of this, and the second point of his projected research program, would be a study of dramatic art both as word and as mimetics. Significantly, he notes that a study of mimetics would have to include a notion of 'the image of the body and of groups of people', the role of masking and of masks in social dramas, the role of 'decoration' and, in the case of Greek tragedy, the role of the highly schematized scenery against which the tragic drama was enacted. These suggestions might well have inspired Malinowski's own treatment of magical spells and incantations in his astonishingly complete corpus inscriptionum agriculturae quiriviniensis in Coral Gardens (Malinowski 1935:75210), and can be seen as a foreshadowing of the work of, for instance, Victor Turner on dramas, or of Erving Goffman and others on the 'mimetics' of personal and institutional space. What is significant here, however, is not its prescience, but rather that the ideas come from Malinowski's struggle to understand Nietzsche and tragedy rather than from a commitment to the positivism of Mach and Avenarius. The third point on Malinowski's research agenda concerns the presence of 'myth' in all dramatic art, including modern art. He suggests that 'it could be demonstrated empirically (i.e., positively)' that myth is present in, for example, Ibsen's plays. Although it is not clear what he intends by his use of 'empirical' or 'positive' in this context, the assertion indicates that he felt the methods of empiricism could be applied to serious questions of art, myth and metaphysics. One way to do this, it seems - and this is the fourth point of his 'positive research' plan - is to situate 24

Introduction myth in the context of its appropriate culture. Nietzsche's analysis in terms of a 'dialectic' between the 'self as individual and the Universal Will is uninformative, Malinowski argues, precisely because it tells us nothing about how tragedy functions. What is important is 'how we are able to listen to these things, to quietly submit to these impressions and not leave shattered'. The answer, he suggests, depends on the context of Greek drama, especially the rhetorical, almost magical power of its words which 'imposes a completely different apprehension of affairs' on its participants and audience. Nietzsche's power? Although Malinowski's essay on Nietzsche does not provide a complete plan of his future development as an anthropologist, it reveals the extent to which his anthropology was oriented towards profound metaphysical questions which helped to shape his approach to the pragmatic theories of function and economy for which he is noted. The link with Nietzsche's philosophy, revealed here, is particularly important since it allows insight into Malinowski's concepts of art and myth, and permits us to construct a few links between his thought and important aspects of modernism. One important point yet remains: how is it possible that a young Polish student of philosophy was so critical of Nietzsche? How could he look Nietzsche in the face and say 'it means nothing to me'? Connor Cruise O'Brien has pointed out that despite the efforts of the 'gentle Nietzscheans' (especially Walter Kaufmann) to sanitize him, Nietzsche was fiercely anti-Semitic, anti-Christian, violent in his style and sympathies. There is a sinister paradox in the fact that Nietzsche's intellectual magnetism drew not only the best minds of this century but also the Nazis within its field. 'Freud feared Nietzsche', O'Brien says, for Freud would only admit to having read Nietzsche, never to having been influenced by him (O'Brien 1972:63). Malinowski never referred to Nietzsche except in his private diary which he never intended to publish. Was he too afraid? Could he resist it when even Freud had quailed? Certainly, one of Nietzsche's most powerful attractions was the sense of moral freedom that he gave to his readers. Malinowski, however, acquired this sense of freedom from two other sources: 25

Malinowski's early writings from Ernst Mach and the empirio-critical school of thought which pervaded his intellectual home, the Philosophy Department of Jagiellonian University in Cracow, and from the Young Poland modernist movement. As a Catholic, even though a non-practising one, he did not have to face the loss of faith in texts that, for European post-Protestants like Nietzsche, accompanied the loss of faith in God. The ground of Machian empiricism did not spin out from under him as the ground of religion-justified-by-text had done for Nietzsche and his readers. He did not need to look down with nausea into the void of nihilism, but rather up to the infinite possibilities of science whose chief goal was, according to Mach, nothing but description - literally, science as the making of texts. To describe reality better, and more efficiently, more economically, and more transparently than it had been described before was to do better science. And science justified itself. Functionalism, then, was Malinowski's cure for Nietzsche's nausea. The early positivist epistemology 'served to separate the world of science from the mists of moral judgments' (Strong 1988:295). His functionalism turned, in fact, on a method, not a theory. The method consisted in using one's whole personal life as a scientific instrument that, like any good scientific instrument, permitted us to discover patterns and connections we had not seen before. This method does not posit a Transcendent Idea, nor does it despair of losing touch with all value, even as it revalues old values in the field. For, as long as there are lives to be lived, there are descriptions to be written, 'windows on the world' that we can, at least, look at, and sometimes - perhaps! - even look through. THE DISSERTATION 'ON THE ECONOMY OF THOUGHT'

The doctoral dissertation is of interest to us today mainly because it demonstrates Malinowski's philosophical acumen and reveals the roots of his methodological innovations and his attitude to 'science'. Allusions to Mach and Nietzsche in the diaries he kept while in the field from 1914/15 and 1917/18 show that he continued to be affected by the ideas first expressed in the dissertation while in the field. At one moment he marvels at how distant Poland and 'preparations for the doctorate' seem to him in Mailu (1967:63; entry dated 13 January 1914), but he admits how often in his thoughts he 'went back to my school days in Cracow' while thinking about the 'critique of history' and the 'nature of soci26

Introduction ology' (1967:291; entry dated 17-24 July 1918). But while it is not surprising that his previous education should inform his on-going projects, it is worthwhile considering how and to what extent different parts of it influenced his major theoretical and ethnographic contributions. The argument of the dissertation Overall, the argument of the dissertation is quite simple, although the details of the argument are often complex and condensed. The main argument is concerned with the possibilities and limits of the notion of an 'economy of thought' as this was put forward by Richard Avenarius and Ernst Mach. Using ideas from mathematics, psychology and philosophy, Malinowski advances a criticism of the positivist principle that thought can be judged to be more or less 'efficient' of its 'resources', and thus, more or less economical. He concludes that empiricism is a necessary but, by itself, insufficient basis for social science. The effort to establish fully objective and absolute grounds for believing that Western science is, indeed, superior to all other forms of thought had long been a central concern in European philosophy. This Eurocentric 'universalism' is clearly also a powerful motive for Malinowski. Mach rests his case for science in the demonstration that, within the practice of science in European institutions, it is the most 'economical' theory which is judged to be true.23 Malinowski sought to extend this proof to science seen more generally as a practical social activity. In this broader anthropological inquiry he sought to include all of humanity since all human thought-about-the-world could be called 'science' under this definition of the term. Returning again to the theme near the end of his life, Malinowski wrote that 'the scientific attitude is as old as culture, and . . . the minimum definition of science is derived from any pragmatic performance' (1944:10). This is what led Malinowski from Mach to Frazer, just as it led Mach, too, to ethnology (see Lowie 1947). Malinowski's subsequent engagement with Frazer's work and his attraction to the anthropological field work may, at first, seem distant from the philosophical concerns expressed in the dissertation, but the two sets of research problems intersect in the question of whether 'the scientific method' is universally valid. Frazer, a classicist, approached this problem through a compara27

Malinowski's early writings tive examination of a large proportion of the ethnographic and classical texts available. Frazer found in this material evidence that the efforts of humans to understand the world around them and to give explanations for phenomena could be grouped into a relatively few modes of thought, and that these gradually evolved from magical explanations through religious or theological explanations toward the eventual emergence of true science. Frazer never engaged the question of what 'true science' might be, but identified it roughly with success in the practical and intellectual 'mastery of nature'. Implicit in Frazer's understanding of 'science' was the observation that it worked and that it was responsible for the political and economic ascendancy of England and Europe in the world. Mach's positivism and the 'fictions' of theory Where Frazer harnessed a sweeping comparative study to the task of providing science with a warrant for truth, Ernst Mach, a physicist and historian of science, confronted the question directly. His detailed study of the history of ideas about the nature of heat provided the basis for a clear statement of philosophical and methodological principles of science. Mach could claim to show precisely how science worked from inside the scientist's mind, and within the social and material practices of his circle of colleagues. He showed that the history of thermodynamics demonstrated the way in which scientific ideas gradually 'evolved' toward a more and more precise description of the relationship between the empirical world of 'sense impressions' of heat and the real (but unknowable) nature of heat itself. This evolution was through more and more precise measurement of changes in temperature under controlled physical conditions and led to precise descriptions of physical phenomena. Mach was not so much concerned to develop an accurate history of ideas, however, as he was to correct the descriptions that his science gave by means of the methods of history and criticism (Bluh 1970). Later in life, Mach began to pursue his theory of science in a way similar to Frazer's, seeking comparative evidence in ethnology and history for a more complete justification of science (Lowie 1947). Indeed, Mach called comparison 'the most powerful inner vital element of science' (Mach 28

Introduction 1898:238-9), and considered ethnology to be a comparative science par excellence. Through his work on the history of thermodynamics and mechanics, Mach developed a widely influential general philosophy of science, later called 'neo-positivism'. Mach believed that the world of mind was essentially independent from the world of nature, and that science consisted in the construction of theories about nature. For Mach, theories were constructs or fictions of mind: they remained part of mind, not part of physical reality, and implied nothing about the 'real' nature of the physical world independent of theories about it. Science was based exclusively on the ability of thought to organize and account for the experience of the senses, and this implied that we could literally assert nothing beyond what could be directly experienced. Mach's notorious rejection of the belief that the atomic theory of Max Planck and Niels Bohr implied that atoms really existed, is an example of this. Since, in Mach's time, there was no way to interact experimentally with atoms, Mach continued to deny the real existence of atoms, insisting that theories which relied on an atomic conception of nature were successful only because they permitted an economical representation of nature, not because atoms really existed. Mach's conception of science, therefore, was 'relativist'. His work was acknowledged as such by the American Pragmatists, William James and John Dewey (1925:143).24 The same view led Max Planck to attack Mach's ideas with some vigour. He declared, certainly with some justice, that When [Nicholas Copernicus and Johannes Kepler,] gave their ideas to science . . . surely economical points of view were the very last thing to steer these men in their struggle against traditional opinions and dominating authority!

For physicists like Planck, physics worked not because it provided an 'economical' fiction of the world, but because it provided a true picture of the world (Frank 1970:220; Planck 1909). Since neither Mach nor Malinowski spelled out the nature of the mind's energy which is supposedly economized, the way in which Malinowski understands, or perhaps misunderstands Mach's physiological 'functionalism' is therefore not at all clear. Noting that Mach wrote soon after Darwin had revolutionized biological thought, Malinowski reads Darwin into Mach, claim29

Malinowski's early writings ing that Mach had a 'predominantly biological conception of the world'. Darwin's fundamental concepts of 'the theory of descent, the struggle for survival, adaptation, and evolution' are mentioned in this regard as playing an important role in Mach's reasoning. Indeed, Mach did pay homage to Darwin in his Inaugural Address as Rector of the University of Prague in 1883 (Mach 1898:214-35),25 but he did not express there the simple biologism that Malinowski attributes to him in the dissertation. Although a biological conception of mind and thought is suggested in the dissertation, as in the essay on Nietzsche, the 'biology' or physiology of thought that Malinowski might have in mind is a wishedfor physiology of mental functions, probably something resembling what Freud, Nietzsche and others hoped for but could not realize in their own work. Mach, too, looked forward to a physiology of the mind that would 'really reveal to us our inner man' by making clear the chemical and physical basis for sensations, language, concept formation and muscular activity. 'Physiology', Mach believed, 'will reveal to us the true real elements of the world' even though he admitted that the methods and concepts for doing so 'cannot be foreseen at the outset of the work' (Mach 1898:212-15). Malinowski seems to have adopted this belief. Indeed, this is not surprising in the light of the astonishingly rapid growth of physiology in Vienna, Prague and other centres of physical and psychological experimentation in the old Habsburg Empire. Entries in Malinowski's diary illustrate a biologization of the philosophical terms that come, surprisingly, from his readings of both Nietzsche and Mach. For instance, as he ponders the sources and origins of his frequent depressions and fits of loneliness, he speculates that his 'loss of subjectivism and deprivation of the will' is caused by 'blood flowing away from the brain' (1967:33). Feeling that he has lost his (Nietzschean) Wille, he assimilates this to Mach's radical empiricism of sense impressions and adds that 'living only by the five senses and the body (through impressions) causes direct merging with surroundings' (1967:33). He describes the sensation of feeling that 'the rattling of the ship's engine was myself . . . it was / who was bumping against the waves and cutting through them' (1967:34). The sensuous merging of the self with the universe that Nietzsche associated with the destruction of the principium individuationis in the Dionysian orgy finds here a physiological interpretation in Malinowski's appropriation of Mach's radical empiricism.26 Thus, 30

Introduction his experience of the tropics is deeply informed by Nietzsche and Mach, who blend in an idiosyncratic synthesis. Elsewhere, in a meditation on mood and his sense of the exotic, he comments that 'exoticism breaks through lightly, through the veil of familiar things'. Reflecting his reading of Herbart on the accommodation of the mental structures of the 'apperceptive mass', he notes that the 'vegetation in moonlight' creates a mood with an 'exoticism strong enough to spoil normal apperception, but too weak to create a new category of mood'. This account refers back directly to the 'economy of thought', but in the field it is exoticism itself which struggles to be accommodated by the economy of his own mind. The discovery

of'function'

The argument in the dissertation hinges on the term 'function', but in the first part of the dissertation Malinowski seeks to use the word in a strictly mathematical sense (Flis 1988:124). While this word, as used in the dissertation, does not carry the dynamic or physiological connotations that Malinowski later gave to the term function in anthropology, it does contribute a sophisticated concept of an abstract analytical space conceived as a set of relations among elements of sets, or as a set of relations among parts. Malinowski's work in mathematics is apparent. His use of a mathematical argument in criticizing Herbart's and Avenarius' psychology suggests that a generalization of mathematical concepts may have played a significant role in his imagination of the geometry of social relationships. Malinowski begins with a statement of the substantive theory of the 'economy of thought' in the work of Richard Avenarius and Ernst Mach. This theory, in its simplest form, is that correct thought and especially scientific thought is uniquely efficient or 'economical', that is, it is the best possible solution to the problem of allocating scarce mental resources to the apprehension of an infinitely complex world. Malinowski first of all differentiates between Avenarius and Mach. Avenarius' psychological theory refers to a mechanical model of consciousness based on Friedrich Herbart's notion of the 'apperceptive mass'. The 'economy' of concern to Avenarius, then, was the efficiency of the cognitive mechanism. Mach's 'economy of thought', by contrast, is a theory of science, or more precisely, a theory of the relationship 31

Malinowski's early writings between the empirical practices of scientists, their cognition, and the world as such. Using the mathematical notion of the 'function', that is, a rule of a continuous mapping of the elements of one set onto another set, Malinowski introduces the idea of a maximum and minimum of the function. In calculus, this is the point at which first derivative of the function is equal to zero, or where the direction of the graph of the function changes sign. He then argues that any notion of 'economy' must include a notion of efficiency, that is, the function (in the mathematical sense) which specifies the relationship between inputs and outputs of the system must have a solution. Malinowski then attempts to show that any fully determinate system (such as an isolated machine) cannot be described in the language of 'economy' since this would imply choices based on the criterion of maxima and minima of the function. Fully determined systems, however, cannot be described in terms of inputs and outputs since they are, by definition, isolated. Using these results, he shows that Avenarius' notion of the mind, which is essentially mechanical and therefore determinate and isolated, is not consistent with the notion of economy. Avenarius is therefore mistaken in attempting to apply the notion of 'economic' efficiency as a criterion with which to judge the effectiveness of mind. Avenarius' psychology cannot provide an adequate account of how choices are made between competing ideas or theories, nor can it account for change, and is therefore sterile. Mach's theory of science, however, is consistent with the mathematical notion of economy because it describes criteria for choosing among the relative efficiencies of competing theories of the world. Science can be correctly described as an economy of thought because it involves choices based on the descriptive efficiency of the theoretical apparatus. Mach's theory is therefore to be preferred because it is consistent with the mathematical notion of function, and because it can be subjected, in principle, to empirical verification. The purposes of science Nevertheless, Malinowski points out that Mach assumed that the purpose of science is objectively determinable. Here Malinowski's criticism is far reaching and profound, for he argues that the 32

Introduction purpose of science is in fact social, not objective, and that in simply assuming the transparency of purpose in science, Mach necessarily renders impossible any proof based on the supposed 'efficiency' of science as a description of the world. 'What is of concern to us', Malinowski writes, 'is science taken socially, as a phenomenon of collective life, not as a facet in the psychology of the individual mind'. At this juncture Malinowski's argument becomes an attempt to provide a warrant for the universal validity of the scientific method. Malinowski argues that scientific laws can be justified objectively, 'without employing any psychological data in a manner totally equivalent to any definition of a physical value'. But it is only by introducing the notion of human purpose, Malinowski argues, that we can evaluate the efficiency of science. In this way, science provides its own warrant since scientific laws are tools for specific goals, and can be evaluated in a way that is analogous to the evaluation of the effectiveness of an ordinary tool. And, he goes on to say, 'The attitude of the Whiteman to his less civilized, colored fellow men illustrates this point sadly and significantly'. Thus, while this objective efficiency of science certainly justifies science, and gives us a clear warrant for believing in the truth of its findings and results, this argument only makes sense if we understand the purpose of science ('the mastery of nature'), and adopt a particular point of view, that of the European. Thus, Mach's notion of economy of thought is not absolute, but is only meaningful relative to the purposes and viewpoints of particular persons. This result leaves considerable room for a metaphysics of purpose. For this reason, Malinowski concludes that Mach's positivism 'in no way prejudices the question of whether metaphysical methods can be applied to philosophy', and that empiricism alone can never provide a complete foundation for philosophy. We can see the results of this reasoning quite clearly in the introductory pages of his Argonauts of the Western Pacific. Referring to an inadequate and erroneous literature on economic anthropology, Malinowski seeks to explode the notion of the Primitive Economic Man who pursues self interest 'directly and with the minimum of effort': Even one well established instance should show how preposterous is this assumption . . . The primitive Trobriander furnishes us with such an instance. He works prompted by motives of a highly complex social and traditional nature and towards aims which are certainly not directed 33

Malinowski's early writings towards the satisfaction of present wants, or to the direct achievement of utilitarian purposes. Thus work is not carried out on the principle of the least effort. (1922:60)

Science, art, emotion As a side issue, never developed, but only sketched in the dissertation, Malinowski also asserts that science and art are fully distinct and separate endeavours, and that the world of emotions and of cognition are isolated from one another. This is a firm tenet of both the pragmatism of William James and the positivism of Ernst Mach. This reference to art and science is probably also linked to the essay on Nietzsche in which the isolation of art from science is developed more fully, but it also points to Malinowski's deeper anxiety about metaphysics seen in the traumas and delights of his deep friendship with Witkiewicz. 'Witkacy' was not only a critic of Mach's positivism (Flis 1988:124) but was, for Malinowski, the embodiment of the ideal artist. The divorce of art and science was also the barrier that separated them as friends (cf. Kubica 1988:92-3,102). In the first paragraph of the thesis, Malinowski remarks that Metaphysics' is under attack but concludes that metaphysics has value. He remains ambivalent about the promise of empiricism, positivism, and the monistic world-view that accompanied Mach's ideas. In fact, most of the dissertation is a study of the limits and weaknesses of the empiricism and positivism of Avenarius and Mach. This seems at first sight to contradict our general notions of Malinowski as eminently empirical, one who made his most important discoveries in the field. Indeed, his scholarly reputation rests firmly today on his clear formulation of empirical principles for ethnographic field work in the introductory chapters of Argonauts and other works, and on his own thoroughness in achieving the scientific goals he set for himself through his ethnographic writing. In fact, his brilliant empirical results on the Trobriand Islands may well be his most lasting and important contribution to anthropology (Sztompka 1988). Several writers have already also suggested that Mach's 'second positivism' (that is, as distinct from Comte's 'first positivism'; Flis 1988; Paluch 1981b) or 'neo-positivism' (Stocking 1986:15) were profoundly important to him. While this is certainly true, his approach to Ernst Mach's empiricism, positivism and monism 34

Introduction were as cautious and as critical as his approach to Frazer and Freud. This critical spirit, together with a willingness to suspend judgement of the many theoretical systems to which he exposed his mind, is no doubt responsible for his extraordinary and creative insight. In accepting Mach's belief that 'theory creates facts',27 his openness to many theoretical perspectives led him to collect and to observe a great many facts. The trajectory of ideas into the field Apart from the detailed philosophical critique of the arguments put forward by Avenarius and Mach and, indirectly, by Herbart, Malinowski's dissertation also reveals several other key themes which continued to direct his thought. There are at least three of these: first, an attack on the temptation to reify abstract entities and to anthropomorphize them; second, an epistemological and metaphysical concern with the nature of scientific truth as opposed to belief; and third, an ontological concern with the 'closedness' of mental, physical or social systems, and with the implications of this for a theory of change. First, an attack on reification provides one of the hidden motives for the dissertation. This hostility to reification and 'humanization' of the abstract or ideological realm manifested itself particularly clearly in Malinowski's strict and consistent refusal to accept the hypothesis of the supra-individual consciousness or species-mind of the 'horde' in Freud's Totem and Taboo (1925), or in Durkheim's and Rivers' belief in primitive communism (Malinowski 1935:11,235-40; Stocking 1986:12). This concern occurs over and over again in his work, from the early rejection of the undifferentiated society of Australian aboriginal societies (1912; 1913) through his demonstration of individuated politics in the main Trobriand monographs (1922:60.116-20; 1926:15-20; 1935:1,319-20). As early as 1917 he made a note in his diary to write further on the reification and anthropomorphism associated with the competing nationalism of his day: Thursday, 11.15. . . . Theory of conscious national action. A responsible collective action of a state. Theory of what I told Elsie during our 1st conversation, that it is meaningless to speak of 'England', 'Germany' as countries that 'wanted' something, 'miscalculated', etc. Write down this theory for E.R.M.! (1967:116; emphasis in original) 35

Malinowski's early writings Beyond positivism Observations like this were clearly stimulated not by positivism, but by a more sweeping concern with metaphysics. But what did 'metaphysics' mean to Malinowski? At its worst, Malinowski understood metaphysics to be an attempt to anthropomorphize the abstract structures of society, culture and the physical world. At best, however, metaphysics signified the philosophical awareness of the profound contradictions and 'imponderabilia' of life. He committed himself to the study of the latter, but the former was the basis for his far-seeing rejection of nationalisms of all kind (Malinowski 1935:11,238; Malinowski 1944b; Skalnik 1986). When Malinowski was a student of philosophy of science at Jagiellonian University, his principal teachers Pawlicki and Straszewski were all committed followers of the positivism of Mach and the Vienna Circle. A defence of metaphysics, then, would have been provocative. Nevertheless he began both major essays from this period with what are essentially covert statements that a defence of metaphysical principles is possible. Of course, Malinowski did not in the end defend metaphysics, or even attempt to defend versions of 'metaphysics' such as Cartesian Dualism, Catholic or Protestant Transcendentalisms or Kantian Idealism. He does, however, suggest in both essays that some sort of 'metaphysics' is universal and that any particular metaphysics will reflect its social and historical milieu. In the dissertation, Malinowski searches for the logical flaws in Avenarius' and Mach's account of science, and having found flaws, deplores the 'absolutism, the dogmatism' with which 'monism is presently used as a touchstone'. This statement is similar to Malinowski's claim, made in his essay on Nietzsche, that metaphysics is 'a symptom of certain structures of human soul', namely the inescapable desire to humanize or anthropomorphize the 'cold indifferent world of appearances'. In the essay on Nietzsche, Malinowski writes much more extensively on the nature of this 'desire', but concludes, both in his dissertation 'On the principle of the economy of thought' and in his essay on Nietzsche's The Birth of Tragedy that there is ultimately no escape from 'metaphysics'. Even philosophical monism, although adamant in its rejection of metaphysics never succeeds in breaking away from its own metaphysics of unity. At best, the monism of Avenarius, Mach, Cornelius and Petzoldt 36

Introduction simply replaces the metaphysics of Cartesian dualism with the metaphysics of a Darwinian biology and evolutionism. Malinowski's approach to these questions is clearly skeptical, and certainly provocative, but it is also more than this. Many commentators have remarked on the complexity of Malinowski's thought. Here, that complexity amounts to a lingering affection for a metaphysics that contradicts a professed adherence to rigorous monism. Malinowski places the entire dissertation between an opening question, 'Does metaphysics have a right to exist?' and his answer to that question, a qualified 'Yes'. By invoking Nietzsche in the formulation of his thesis on Machian positivism, Malinowski creates the logical tension that drives the essay, and by asserting the viability of metaphysics at the end of the essay he carries the tension forward into his subsequent work. Although he assents to Mach's methodology, it appears that Nietzsche is far from dead. It seems likely that his awareness of the inescapable necessity for metaphysics, or for some philosophical positions which could not ultimately be justified empirically promoted Malinowski's sensitivity to cultural ambiguity and depth. In the dissertation, he distinguishes between substantive metaphysics and the label 'metaphysics'. Merely by drawing this distinction in the first paragraph of the dissertation, however, he has already anticipated his conclusions that 'we do not yet have an empirical basis for a philosophical world-view'. Just as the label is not the contents, the rejection of 'metaphysics' does not make it go away. His conclusion seems to mean, then, that empiricism alone cannot provide the answers to the fundamental questions of human life. For this, as he indicates in the 'Introduction' to Argonauts, only a complex and nuanced description of life as it is lived, together with its contradictions and inherent ambiguities, can begin to provide data that will make an answer possible. While ethnography will not as yet give us an answer to his question about the necessity for 'metaphysics', Malinowski's dissertation reveals the roots of Malinowski's 'functionalism' in which he sought to bring the metaphysics of transcendent knowledge of magic, language, economic value, power, 'totem', sexuality, fertility and so on, into some sort of rapport with the empirical knowledge of canoe navigation, gardening, exchange of real goods, and reproduction. Without the dedication to empiricism, Malinowski's rich data and detailed description would never 37

Malinowski's early writings have materialized, but without the interest in 'metaphysics' and a belief that some important questions still remained after the empirical data were collected, Malinowski's contribution to anthropology would have remained as mundane as the rest of the empirical ethnology that already filled libraries. Finally, the dissertation raises the important question of determinism and free will. Avenarius' assumptions presuppose a closed system, but Mach's did not. In drawing this distinction, Malinowski rejects Avenarius' system because the model it presents is unable to accommodate change. Ironically, the criticism directed at Avenarius in the dissertation - that his 'economy of thought' is isolated and therefore no economy at all - is the same one he directs at his own 'intensive study of a limited area' when he is forced to confront the facts of cultural 'contact' and change in Africa (Malinowski 1929a; 1945:14-15,18ff). The 'contact situation', not merely the island culture or society is 'an integrated whole' (1945:14). But despite his efforts, his attempt to address the problem of culture change remained the weakest of Malinowski's accomplishments. 'RELIGION AND M A G I C : OBSERVATIONS ON FRAZER'S THE GOLDEN BOUGH

Malinowski's observations on Frazer's The Golden Bough are brief. Though undated, they probably precede the long critical essay on Frazer's Totemism and Exogamy. Like the later, longer criticism, this brief note is highly critical of Frazer's findings. It is significant, however, primarily because Malinowski expresses here for the first time some ideas about magic that he developed later, especially in Coral Gardens and Their Magic (1935). From Mach to Frazer: the first approach First of all, Malinowski links Frazer's principles of magic ('contagion' and 'sympathy') to the principles of Herbartian psychology which he had attacked in his doctoral dissertation. Frazer's principles of magic are labelled 'fundamental psychological phenomena of the association of ideas'. This comparison allows Malinowski to draw a number of conclusions about their usefulness. He had criticized and rejected Avenarius' psychology on the grounds that its assumption of the principles of Herbart's 38

Introduction associationist psychologies failed to account for change in psychological states, and that they postulated an isolated mental 'machine', the so-called apperceptive mass, which could not be empirically demonstrated. His criticism of Frazer's psychology implicit in the 'principles of magic' has a number of parallels with his criticism of Avenarius. Frazer claimed that magic and science were similar in that magic involved a mode of reasoning about the material world that was not different in kind or quality from that of science. Both science and magic were practical logics which proceeded from different assumptions, and consequently reached separate conclusions. In this respect both magic and science were fundamentally different from religion which posited a transcendent world of unseen forces and beings. For Frazer, magic could be confused with religion, but it remained magic in so far as it dealt with the material world. It differed from science primarily because its premises were erroneous and its conclusions therefore mistaken, while science reasoned from correct premises to reach correct conclusions. In reaching this position Malinowski probably relied on Mach's principled distinction between the domain of sense impressions, the exclusive domain of science, and the world of emotions, that is, all other human behaviour about which science had essentially nothing to say. Acceptance of this dichotomy implies, for Malinowski, that the difference between science and magic cannot be simply a difference of false versus true assumptions, but is a genuine difference of 'content'. His understanding of the nature of this difference, and the basis of his rejection of Frazer's views, reflects the positivist dichotomy between the reality of the world given by sense impressions - which is thus accessible to science and able to be manipulated by it — and the world of the emotions. Magic, therefore, is unlike science primarily because its goals and methods relate to the social world of emotions. Science, magic and society The conclusions that he draws in this early essay are significant because they mark a clear break from Frazer's intellectualist approach, and lead Malinowski to begin to formulate a new pragmatic one. Considered as forms of thought, Malinowski claims here, magic and science are completely distinct. Considered as 39

Malinowski's early writings 'human activity based on experience', however, Malinowski believes that magic and science are 'equivalent'. In coming to this conclusion, Malinowski comes extremely close to a consideration of the pragmatic approach developed much later by Ludwig Wittgenstein who, in similar remarks on Frazer's Golden Bough in 1933, argues that magic is simply a way of 'doing magic' and consists in nothing else than that it is done in that way (Zengotita 1989). While science restricts its findings in terms of 'laws' that are more or less empirical and defines its goals in terms of its findings, Malinowski believes that magic restricts its findings by rules of tradition and cult, and defines its goals in terms of passion and desire. Thus, Malinowski does not distinguish between magic and science on the basis of their 'content' but rather in terms of rules which govern their use in social context and which limit their scope and use. Magic can be distinguished from science on the basis of how it is used and to what ends, and the means and goals of magic or science can only be decided in terms of social context. Just as we cannot determine whether the metaphysical system of a given individual and the social ethic based upon it is subjective or not by taking only the context of beliefs into consideration, in the same way we cannot draw a boundary line between science and magic taking only their content into consideration.

Thus, while Frazer believed that magic and science were psychologically similar, but sociologically distinct, Malinowski concludes that they differ psychologically while they are similar in social practice. Indeed, far from seeing similarities between magic and science, Malinowski eventually saw modern advertising and politics, especially propaganda and the politics of nationalism, communism and fascism as kinds of modern magic (1935:11,238). Frazer's error consisted in his focus on the psychological 'content' of science and magic, and his failure to consider either their use in context, or their empirical forms. Using this pragmatic principle, then, Malinowski is able to propose two questions which can be answered empirically: 'Does the given individual possess a system of beliefs or not?' and 'In what relationship does this system of beliefs stand in relation to the society in which the individual lives?' Posing and answering these two questions is essential to Malinowski's fieldwork methods. The goal of ethnography, Malinowski said in the first 40

Introduction chapter of Argonauts of the Western Pacific, 'is, briefly, to grasp the native's point of view, his relation to life', that is, to discover 'what concerns him most intimately . . . the hold which life has on him' (1922:25). Or, in another discussion of how he discovered Kiriwinan concepts of land tenure, published as part of Coral Gardens and Their Magic, Malinowski says that the virtue of learning the native language is precisely that it allows one to ask and answer these questions: 'it enables us better to understand, firstly what the natives talk about among themselves . . . and secondly, their integral behavior'; (1935:326) or, in other words, 'to give full consideration to the native point of view and the details of native usage' (1935:340). Other examples of his putting these precepts into action can, of course, be found throughout his scattered methodological chapters and prefaces in most of his ethnographic works. The approach to pragmatics in the critique of The Golden Bough His remarks, expressed first in this essay, on Frazer's failure to understand that the pragmatics of a situation far overwhelm the intellectual component are similarly reflected in his ethnography. He comments in these early notes that 'there can be no talk of laws of similarity and continuity which result from one's ideas', but only consideration of 'practical goals' and 'knowledge from experience'. This position is also reflected abundantly in his ethnography, as for instance, in Argonauts, where he declares that '[t]hough we cannot ask a native about abstract, general rules, we can always enquire how a given case would be treated' (1922:12). The other items on which Malinowski comments in these notes reflect developments of these points. Frazer's account of blood or placentas as abstractly 'symbolic', for instance, is nonsensical to Malinowski who sees their meaning as a consequence of the emotions they evoke in the social contexts in which wounds are given and received, or children are born. Finally, in a last brief remark, Malinowski poses the question of whether and to what extent ritual and magic 'possess economic features', and to what extent they 'possess characteristics of a religious cult'. These are the questions that motivate his searching critique of Durkheim's and Frazer's interpretations of Australian ritual, first encountered in his review of Frazer's 41

Malinowski's early writings Totemism and Exogamy, and in his essay, also included in this volume, 'On the Economic Aspects of Intichiuma Ceremonies'. These are also among the principal motivating questions of Coral Gardens and Their Magic. THE METHODOLOGICAL CRITIQUE OF FRAZER'S TOTEMISM AND EXOGAMY, THE REVIEW IN LUD

Malinowski's critical review of Frazer's Totemism and Exogamy was originally published in three parts in the Polish journal Lud between 1911 and 1913. He had already read and commented briefly upon Frazer's The Golden Bough. He also brought to his reading of Frazer not only the critical methods of Mach and Nietzsche, but also, by 1911, a considerable knowledge of other European sources such as Wundt and Bucher from his studies in Leipzig. Thus, although he notes the heuristic value of Frazer's work, and the value to scholarship of bringing all of the material together in several volumes, Malinowski's criticism of Frazer is severe. Malinowski challenges Frazer's assumptions, theories and his treatment of the data; in short, he finds Frazer's science entirely flawed. Many of these criticisms were later expressed in his lectures at the London School of Economics, but it is well known that in print he only praised Frazer. Faulty data can only be remedied with more and better data, so Malinowski draws on the work of the German ethnologist Strehlow on the Arunta, and uses this material as a corrective to the errors of Spencer, Gillen, Fison and Howitt's work on the Australian aboriginal tribes. Frazer was apparently unaware of Strehlow's work, and Malinowski uses it to good advantage to show that the ethnography on which Frazer relied was often incomplete. Malinowski also argues that Frazer had misconceived the savage mind and slates Frazer for his tendency to assume that the savages were 'calculating utilitarians'. In this he seems to have drawn on Nietzsche's attack on the English utilitarians in his first and second essays published in his The Genealogy of Morals (Nietzsche 1968(1887)). Malinowski contends that the Australians possessed myths, not 'interests' and a calculus of utility, and that this difference is crucial. Malinowski also draws on Mach's principles of scientific inquiry in taking Frazer to task for his failure to state his assumptions and hypotheses clearly. As 42

Introduction a consequence of this failure, Malinowski contends that Frazer's descriptions are frequently subordinated to his broadly sketched evolutionist theories and a priori reasoning. Furthermore, Frazer fails to make a principled distinction in his work between facts and theories. Accordingly, Frazer's attempts to organize his data into developmental series fail because the data are not sufficiently rich to support Frazer's detailed speculation, and as a consequence, spurious 'stages' are introduced where the empirical data are lacking. A related criticism points to Frazer's uncritical equation of legend and history. Malinowski distinguishes these categories in the same way that the German Biblical critic David Strauss had done with respect to 'real myth', 'historical myth' (or 'legend') and 'history' in the Biblical accounts of the life of Jesus,28 and finds Frazer's failure to do so partly responsible for other major theoretical failures. Among other things, this error is exemplified by Frazer's distinction between religion and magic as a distinction between a cult of the heroic individual (for example, in the Torres Straits island societies) in contrast to the mythic and generalized 'ancestors' such as the alcheringa of the Australian aboriginal peoples. While Frazer sees the cult of 'heroes' in the Torres Straits as a form of 'religion', albeit of a 'transitional type', and the Australian cult of ancestors as 'magic', Malinowski uses Frazer's own data to show that this distinction is superficial. Moreover, the general weakness of the data itself, Malinowski argues, weakens whatever a priori grounds there might be for distinguishing between two radically different 'levels' of intellect. In parallel with the approach of Emile Durkheim and his students in the Annee Sociologique school, who understood religion as a social cult of sacred things, Malinowski argues that the Australian rites are more like 'religion' than are those of the Torres Straits. Frazer's intellectualist distinctions between religion and magic does not permit a theory of social change, Malinowski argues, unless the notion of conscious social reform by members of savage societies is taken seriously. Frazer's theories fail to describe actual social mechanisms or practices by which the intellectual processes and devaluations that he attributes to individuals could be realized in observable social change. 'The deeper we delve into the nature of sociological facts', Malinowski writes, 'the more clearly we see that there is no direct and obvious continuity of 43

Malinowski's early writings development between the individual and the social phenomenon'. Since Frazer fails to provide a plausible way in which the individual's psychology of totemic classification is linked to the supposed emergence of exogamy in society, his efforts are futile. Malinowski, following Mach, insists that theories must consist in the description of practical mechanisms or processes which can be shown, through empirical description, to result in change. Moreover, Malinowski already argues in this early critique that Frazer's evolutionism cannot be supported on data which are largely contemporary. On these grounds, Frazer's categories and stages do not qualify as theories at all. Malinowski does not reject the value of the historical or evolutionist enterprise itself, but comments instead on Frazer's failure to articulate valid theories with respect to these concerns. Seen in these terms, then, even the comparative project declared by the title of Frazer's work, Totemism and Exogamy, must be unproductive since Frazer nowhere attempts to demonstrate the independence or comparability of his variables, 'totemism' and 'exogamy'. Indeed, with respect to the Australian materials that provide the core of Frazer's data, Malinowski points out that while the Central Australian clans are the owners of totems, it is 'marriage classes', not clans, that are exogamous. This is not the case, however, in Northern Australia or the Torres Straits where, while clans are exogamous, only the Australian clans have totems. This awareness of the principles of independence of variables is unusual among ethnologists of this time,29 and comes almost certainly from Malinowski's acquaintance with Karl Pearson's The Grammar of Science (1897), cited in his dissertation, in which the methods of rigorous statistical comparison were first set forth in a comprehensive manner. Thus, Malinowski's criticisms of Frazer's Totemism and Exogamy draw on a wide range of methodological as well as substantive sources. But this essay is more than just critique. Like the essays on Nietzsche and the dissertation on Mach and positivism, Malinowski also uses the material to formulate a number of research questions, and proposals for further empirical inquiry. Totemism and primitive economy Among the most significant of these problems, especially in light of Malinowski's subsequent work, is his attempt to see the rituals 44

Introduction and beliefs of the Australians in terms of their 'economy'. In traditional terms, such as those adopted by Frazer and Durkheim, the Australians lacked an 'economy'. Indeed, for both Frazer and Durkheim, this is precisely what makes them seem to be exemplars of the primitive. Both locate their evolutionary 'zero-point'30 at the 'cultural level' of the Australian aborigines, and, as Malinowski points out, their theoretical edifices stand on the assumption that these people are the simplest, most 'elementary' forms of human social, cultural and intellectual life. Malinowski, by contrast, points out that their belief in totemism is not 'elementary' or 'primitive' but is itself predicated on two other relatively sophisticated beliefs: first, that in lieu of the knowledge of physiological paternity children are believed to be the reincarnation of 'spirit children' - what Strehlow calls Kinderkeime - and second, that reproduction of the totemic species depends on the practice and efficacy of magic. Since the number of spirits ready to implant themselves in the wombs of Australian women is limited, and since the magic required, in Australian terms, for the reproduction of both humans and animals requires the utilization and allocation of scarce resources of labour and materials, totemism itself amounts to a 'magical economy'. Thus Malinowski asserts that while the Australian Intichiuma ceremonies are clearly a part of magic they are also 'economic'. He concludes the first section of his review by noting that all 'collective and purposeful work is organized in [Australian] society by religious-magical ideas'. He developed this idea much further in an essay for the Westermarck Festschrift The economic aspects of the Intichiuma ceremonies' (1912a), appearing in this volume and, in more general terms, much later in Coral Gardens (1935). An approach to 'religion' Moving in another theoretical direction, he argues, for the first time here that the family, not the horde, clan, band or other large social unit, is the stable and elementary form of social organization. He developed this point further in his essay 'Sociology of the family' (1913-14) published originally in German, and translated and republished in this volume, and in The Family Among the Australian Aborigines (1913a). He also begins to elaborate the idea that totemism is not so much a belief or an intellectual 45

Malinowski's early writings system as it is a form of social organization, and that it may differ in the role it plays in different societies. Thus, he points out that while * Australian totemism is a form of social organization . . . in the Banks Islands totemism exists exclusively in its religious aspect'. Also, while in both the Australian and Banks Islands societies, according to Bishop Codrington, among the Melanesians, totemism is based ' n o t . . . on the belief that the animal is embodied in the man, but rather the other way round, on the conviction that the human soul passes into the animal or plant'. Frazer, he argues, confuses these different kinds of totemism. Elsewhere in his review, Malinowski points out that of the types of things selected as totemic objects or species, very few of these are related to the female domains of child-birth or child-care, household implements, cooking utensils or digging sticks used for gathering vegetable foods. Thus, totemism is also implicated in the sexual division of labour, a point he makes more strongly in Tribal Male Associations in Australia' (1912b), in this volume. Malinowski's critique of Frazer's understanding of magic depends, similarly, on Malinowski's reorganization of the categories into which the data are sorted. Malinowski introduces pragmatic criteria such as 'emotion' where Frazer considers only logic. Thus the resort to magic is driven, according to Malinowski, by emotional factors at least as much as by the logic of dogma. Failure to recognize this leads Frazer to inadequately define magic or religion. Worse, Frazer's definitions of magic and religion can not be empirically tested because they rely on the 'inner psychology' of the native. 'It is extremely difficult', Malinowski remarks with a footnote to Levy-Bruhl's Les fonctions mentales dans les societes inferieures (1910), 'to determine, even approximately, the inner attitude of even our own peasant with regard to the object of his cult . . . and so there can be no talk of being able to get to the bottom of the most hidden, most complicated subjective states of the savage'. Malinowski's critique of Frazer here is purely positivist. From this and other lines of reasoning, Malinowski develops his own rather clumsy definition of religion. We will call religion any collection of beliefs and practices referring to supernatural powers and bound into an organic system, which are expressed in social life by a series of acts of a cult which is systematic, public, obligatory and based on tradition . . . and which are also expressed by a series of norms of behaviour defined by tradition, closely connec46

Introduction ted to the dogmas of the cult and that possess supernatural sanctions as well as social ones.31 This definition is similar to Durkheim's famous definition of religion in his Elementary Forms of the Religious Life. Durkheim's work was published in 1912, in the same year that the second part of Malinowski's review of Frazer appeared. He reviewed Durkheim's work the following year (1913b). It is unlikely that Malinowski had access to Durkheim's book while writing this essay. He does, however, mention that he has relied on the work of Emile Durkheim, Marcel Mauss, Arnold van Gennep and Henri Hubert that was published in the Annee Sociologique in volumes II to VIII, published between 1897 and 1909. Unlike Frazer's, these definitions focus attention on 'social, objective facts' that are 'easily accessible to close observation'. In these terms, then, Australian totemism is not magic, as Frazer thought, but religion, as Durkheim thought. Malinowski clearly differs with Durkheim over the role of evolutionist speculation but, like Durkheim, agrees that the difference between magic and religion was not primarily an evolutionary one but rather social and practical. Magical practices, unlike religion, 'are not based on social organization, are not compulsory, and are not joined into an organic whole with the cult and ethics'. The relative weights of the pragmatic and the social/communal aspects of magic and religion seem, however, to have remained problematic to Malinowski. In Argonauts, for instance, he declared that 'although I started my field-work convinced that the theories of religion and magic expounded in the Golden Bough were inadequate, I was forced by all my observations in New Guinea to come over to Frazer's position' (1922:73f). On the other hand, in Coral Gardens and Their Magic, he declared that 'Durkheim's theory is itself a somewhat mystical act of faith' (1935:11,235). It seems clear, however, that the pragmatic approach was applied to both, however inconsistently. Exogamy and kinship, and origins The third section of Malinowski's review focusses on his demolition of Frazer's theory of the origin of exogamy. The methods and results of his criticism are those which we have already discussed, and it is the insights to which these criticisms lead him that are 47

Malinowski's early writings worth attending to further. Among these is the idea that while exogamy, inasmuch as it refers to patterns of mate selection is 'purely biological', totemism is 'artificially constructed by us'. In other words, while Frazer considers both totemism and exogamy to be parallel and comparable 'institutions', Malinowski distinguishes between one as 'biological' and the other as 'constructed'. In fact, Malinowski asserts that Frazer has no grounds for including all of the varied data he presents under the label 'totemism'. Frazer's attempt to find a single common 'origin' for this erroneously constructed category is therefore pointless. More specifically, it is Frazer's attempt to derive social institutions as the 'logical consequences of . . . belief that is erroneous. Malinowski insists that a social institution must be explained in terms of the 'social conditions in which these institutions have developed'. In other words, he says that totemism must be explained 'genetically' not 'logically'. Frazer's explanation of totemism in terms of its speculative origins 'does not provide the genesis of totemic beliefs, even less does it provide the genesis of totemic social institutions; it only clarifies these beliefs and sheds a certain amount of light on them'. Malinowski's treatment of Frazer's argument resonates strongly with Nietzsche's treatment of the argument of the Utilitarians, especially with respect to 'origin' of punishment, in Nietzsche's second essay in The Genealogy of Morals. While we know that Malinowski read The Birth of Tragedy carefully, and that he and Witkiewicz discussed more of Nietzsche's writings in great detail, we do not know for certain that he read The Genealogy of Morals. Nietzsche says the cause of the origin of a thing and its eventual utility . . . lie worlds apart; whatever exists, having somehow come into being is again and again reinterpreted to new ends, taken over, transformed and redirected by some power superior to it; all events in the organic world are a subduing, a becoming master, and all subduing and becoming master involves a fresh interpretation, and adaptation through which any previous 'meaning' and 'purpose' are necessarily obscured. . . . But purposes and utilities are only signs that a will to power has become master of something less powerful and imposed upon it the character of a function and the entire history of a 'thing', an organ, a custom, can in this way be a continuous sign-chain of ever new interpretations and adaptations whose causes do not even have to be related to one another but, on the contrary, in some cases succeed and alternate with one another in 48

Introduction a purely chance fashion. The evolution of a thing, a custom, an organ is thus by no means its progressus toward a goal . . . by the shortest route and by the smallest expenditure of force . . . but a succession of more or less profound, more or less mutually independent processes of subduing. (Nietzsche 1968: (sect 13) 513-14)

Malinowski's attack on Frazer runs along similar lines: the agnosticism concerning the explanatory power of'origins', the reinterpretability of events and institutions, the 'functional' character of their 'adaptation' and integration into the social (or historical) whole, the multiple paths of 'evolution', and the principle of 'least force'.32 It has been said that part of Nietzsche's genius was the 'functionalizing of static concepts' (Stern 1983), and the same could be said of Malinowski. These concepts provide the central conceptual core for Malinowski's analyses of the Australian ethnographic material in 'Tribal male associations among the Australian aborigines' (pp. 201-8, this volume), 'The relation of primitive beliefs to forms of social organization' (pp. 229-42, in this volume) and 'A fundamental problem of religious sociology' (pp. 243-5, in this volume). This attack on the notion of origins is of far-reaching significance, both for Malinowski's own empirical approach to anthropological questions, but also to his notorious 'neglect' of history. Unlike other writers at the time, all of whom debated the merits of different hypothetical origins of the religious and social forms, Malinowski ridicules the very notion of origins itself. In this, he steps out of the bounds of the conventional discourse of origins. 'What is this concept of "origins"?', Malinowski asks dismissively. Frazer's discussion of 'origins' is not just inadequate in a way that could be improved by better data or more rigour. The flaw 'reaches deeper into the very essence of the author's thinking'. Indeed, Malinowski sums up his critique by asking 'Does totemism exist at all?' GENDER AND POWER IN AUSTRALIAN SOCIETY: 'TRIBAL MALE ASSOCIATIONS IN AUSTRALIA'

This essay, published both in Polish and in a slightly faulty English in 1912, is a 'case study' of a particular feature of Australian society, and is the earliest example of the application of Malinowski's functionalism. It repeats the attack on the notion of origins. His rejection of evolutionism finds its strongest 49

Malinowski's early writings and most explicit expression here. The aim of the essay is to show that one particular institution, that of secret tribal male associations in Australian society, functions to create and maintain social power based on age-categories and gender, and that a mythical charter justifies these practices and beliefs. Malinowski moves decisively away from the earlier ethnological questions about the position of whole societies, tribes or peoples on the scale of evolution, complexity or political maturity, and towards a new concern with the relationships among institutions in a single functioning society. The attention to sexuality, social institutions, mythical justification, and functioning parts of social wholes marks this essay as a forerunner of Malinowski's distinctive style of ethnographic argument. Malinowski briefly summarizes several features of Australian kinship, economy and sexuality, mentioning male homosexuality and the extensive privileges - among them, sexual privileges - of elder males; also the distinction between exogamous marriage classes and totemic clans, and the central role of initiation ceremonies. Eschewing the search for origins, he notes that while these may well be features of'early' association of males, they are not necessarily the 'origins' of these associations. Instead, he advanced a 'sociological' explanation. Noting carefully that 'the function or task that a given institution performs in society' should not be confused with its 'aim as subjectively conceived by society', Malinowski presents evidence that shows how these institutions act to exclude women from public life, to ensure separation of age and gender classes, and to reinforce a strict hierarchy that regulates access to goods and prestige.33 These, however, are the 'objective aim of these ceremonies, from a sociological point of view', a view from which the natives themselves are excluded.34 Myth and gender From the native point of view, however, the moral values and 'educational importance' of the initiation rites and other ceremonies of the Australian male associations are contained in their myths. Malinowski's treatment of myth reflects with clarity and precision his approach to myth developed through his confrontation with Nietzsche's The Birth of Tragedy. As we have already seen, in that essay Malinowski had already ceased to see 50

Introduction myth as in any way original, primordial or elementary, and had begun to understand it as both of the past and in the present; or, as Malinowski expressed it in 1904/5, myth acts to 'entwine the present in a net of norms and subordinates the present to itself ethically*.35 The myths which accompany the male associations in Australia, he notes, do not attempt to give an origin for the practices of initiation, gender power, and age hierarchy. They seek to show how but not why or when these practices were introduced. In other words, the myths are not at all concerned with 'origins' (implicitly: they are not like the Semitic myths of origin), but rather with justification and functioning of contemporary institutions. Thus, these beliefs and practices are understood by the Australians as that which makes them most human, that which ushers them into 'the latest stages of human evolution' in their terms, since the circumcized and subincized man is the 'only complete, fully developed man'.36 But their terms are supplied by myth which is, in the terms of Malinowski's essay on Nietzsche, 'a concept of reality'.37 Indeed, since the myth is fully sufficient as a mode of knowledge, it constitutes a native metaphysics. These rites then have the same claim to the status of 'reality' that the material world does. 'For the native', he concludes, 'these rites are a material necessity, so strongly is the need of them impressed upon the minds by tradition'. 38 The important notion that gender and power are culturally constructed through myth and socially instituted through concrete practices of bodily mutilations and rituals is indeed a far reaching idea. Karl Pearson, Kraft-Ebbing, Havelock Ellis and Sigmund Freud had already published work which made similar claims, and which supported these with ethnographic and medical evidence (see Stocking 1986). With the exception of Pearson, Malinowski does not cite these people in his own early writing, though he may have read them. While perhaps not completely original in 1912, these ideas were part of a new trend and anticipate his The Sexual Life of Savages (Malinowski 1929b). 'THE ECONOMIC ASPECTS OF THE INTICHIUMA

CEREMONIES'

Malinowski explores further the economic aspects of 'totemism' which began with his earlier reviews of Frazer's Totemism and Exogamy and The Golden Bough. He concluded the review of Totemism and Exogamy with the implicit claim that totemism 51

Malinowski's early writings did not exist as a definable institution or unit of analysis, and that further research would be required to show in what, precisely, those practices and beliefs that had been labelled 'totemism' actually consist. In The relation of primitive beliefs to the forms of social organization' Malinowski put forward a pragmatic and functionalist theory of totemism as fundamentally practical and arising from an 'attitude to the environment', while in his manuscript remarks on The Golden Bough he noted that totemism is both 'economy' and 'religion'. In The economic aspects of the intichiuma ceremonies', he deals in greater depth with the precise way in which the Australian clans are 'integrated into the whole through their functions'. In developing these ideas further, he draws most on the work of the economist and economic historian Karl Biicher with whom he studied in Leipzig 1909 to 1910. Economic ethnology and historicism Karl Biicher taught economics at the University of Leipzig. He was a minor leader of the 'Historical School' of economics in late nineteenth century Germany. Joseph Schumpeter (1954) includes Biicher among the members of the 'Younger' Historical School who followed the 'Elders' Bruno, Hildebrand and Wilhelm Roscher. Schumpeter places Max Weber and Sombart among the 'youngest' of this School which is characterized by attention to local historical detail of, for example, the development of a weaver's guild or of forms of peasant land tenure. They eschewed Hegelian or Comtean grand theories or universal histories and inevitable historical stages, such as those of Karl Marx or Henry Thomas Buckle (Buckle 1857; Stocking 1988), and argued against the existence of historical laws. Their research work was essentially ethnographic, like that of Edward B. Tylor, Franz Boas, Edvard Westermarck or C. G. and Brenda Seligman. Members of the 'Younger Historical School' attempted to place economic behaviour in its broadest possible sociological context, and sought to examine all aspects of economic behaviour in society, including the nature and sources of motivation (Schumpeter 1954:806-14). In this essay Malinowski declares his rejection of 'any universal scheme of evolution, fulfilled in every case and among all the races of mankind', and declares in favour of an approach that 52

Introduction treats 'economic evolution . . . separately in regard to each ethnological area and in the light of the special conditions pertaining in each'. In taking this position, he shared much with Franz Boas who took a similar direction in American ethnology from physics to ethnology by way of historicism (Stocking 1968:142-7,157) but unlike Boas, Malinowski introduced many other theoretical interests that moved him in the direction he eventually called 'Functionalism'. The study of Volkswirtschaft or 'economic ethnology' was widely studied in German universities at the end of the nineteenth century. Malinowski seems to have taken from Bucher, in particular, a definition of 'labour' that allowed him to understand the activities of the Australian aboriginals in broadly comparative terms rather than in strictly evolutionist ones. Bucher pointed in particular to the temporal rhythm and periodicity of labour in industrial society, and showed in his work how the temporal division of the day and the discipline of time was at least as important as the division of tasks that was called 'the division of labour'. Problems with the 'division of labour' in primitive economies Herbert Spencer, James Frazer and Emile Durkheim understood specialized, task-divided 'labour' as the characteristic form of economic activity in the advanced Western industrialized nations. The 'division of labour' permitted tasks to be apportioned among specialists. Ever since Adam Smith wrote about how it was possible for a pin factory to multiply production many hundredfold by employing a specialized labour force in which each individual did only one task on many pins instead of manufacturing one pin from start to finish, European industry regarded the 'division of labour' as one of the central characteristics of their unique productive capacity. This principle, progressively refined and applied to every type of commodity during the course of the nineteenth century did indeed create wealth by permitting the introduction of increasingly specialized machinery and by permitting economies of scale. Socialists such as Karl Marx and Friedrich Engels, and Comtean 'positivists' such as Emile Durkheim worried that this division of labour would lead to progressive marginalization of the labour force, and that this would lead to a loss of identity, 'anomie', and 'alienation'. If 53

Malinowski's early writings the close attachment between the maker and the product that craftsmanship provided was lost, then labouring people would indeed have nothing left to sell but their labour. This, Marx argued, was already the case in Britain, where capitalism had reached its apogee. But Utilitarians such as Herbert Spencer hailed this 'evolution' as the industrial parallel of the evolution of biological species in nature. Spencer, in fact, believed more generally that the 'evolution' of plants, animals, geological features, industry and social organization all followed essentially the same principle of 'differentiation' from simple to complex. The embryologists Von Baer and Ernst Haeckel believed that they recognized the 'division of labour' in the increasing specialization of embryos as they matured. Charles Darwin and Thomas Huxley understood the specialization of biological species to particular characteristics of their environments as extensions of this principle. Durkheim extended this principle in De la division du travail social (The Social Division of Labour) to account for the evolution of social organization more generally, and used the principle implicitly to explain the incidence of suicide, among other things. These cases could be multiplied many times over. Thus, in tackling the economic aspects of the intichiuma, Malinowski could draw on a large body of comparable ethnography and on arguments and theoretical positions that it engendered. In the terms of this discourse about the evolution of the 'primitive' to the 'modern' (= European) the Australian aboriginal societies were already widely identified as representative of the most 'primitive' forms of social life. Inasmuch as the Australians appeared to lack the differentiated institutions of 'economy', that is, they lacked a significant degree of division of labour and institutions for the rational and efficient production and allocation of scarce goods and resources, these societies were considered to be the zero-point of economic evolution. Thus, in claiming to find an 'economic aspect' to Australian ritual practices, Malinowski was clearly going out on a limb. By the tenets of evolutionist theory - that is, by the assumptions on which the 'scientific' theories of his day were based - the title of this essay should be an oxymoron something like 'the spinal structure of invertebrates'! Moreover, Malinowski labelled as 'sterile' the notion that totemism was a primitive form of the 'division of labour' or a primitive categorical description of nature. 54

Introduction The economy of totemism Malinowski had already argued that the intichiuma rituals in which the Arunta 'increase' or fecundate the natural species associated with their totems, is not itself a basic 'datum' but a complex institution. Since the intichiuma institution is social, public, obligatory, founded on myth and prescriptive of ethics it is therefore 'religious' not magical. He suggested that because it is the most arduous task undertaken by the society and since it involves the highest levels of social organization of labour they ever attempt, it is also 'economic'. Its functions are therefore plural. Here he poses three questions: 1) in what sense is the intichiuma economic; 2) if it is, is there a functional connection between economics and magic, and 3) is this connection a necessary one or 'merely accidental'? The title of the essay already answers the first question. Intichiuma is economic, he argues, not in the 'sterile' sense of providing a mechanical 'division of labour', however, but in a much more productive sense. These ceremonies involve 'organized and collective labour of the community', 'require a considerable amount of labour . . . performed with great care and with a full appreciation of their importance', are regular and periodic, and are consciously directed towards achieving the goal of 'the increase of totemic animals or plants'. There are also simple forms of food-storage that involve 'some sacrifice of the present for the future, an essentially economic virtue and the prerequisite of capital'. 39 In these terms, then, the intichiuma is clearly an economic institution. But, he argues, it is 'economic' not in terms of a structural analogy with the 'division of labour', but rather in terms of its rational goals, namely, the increase of totemic species. Magic, he claims, is first of all a technique that is used to achieve economic ends. Whether or not it actually achieves them, he says, does not matter 'for the native who actually perceives the material results of his magical practices'.40 If all that totemism provided was a 'division of labour' in terms of 'false categories' of totemic species, then the principles which underlay this ideology would be of little further interest. For, once the fallacy of the ideology was recognized, it would cease to have any relevance at all. To the contrary, however, Malinowski suggests that these ceremonies 'educate society in the exercise of 55

Malinowski's early writings forms of labour capable of economic utilization. In other words, the study of the 'economic aspect' of totemism might well have some potential, not only for a better understanding of primitive psychology, but for their own advancement. Although he does not push further in this direction, his latter argument here anticipates his much later approach to 'culture change' in, for example, The function and adaptability of African institutions' in The Dynamics of Culture Change (1945:52-63). On the matter of 'psychology', however, Malinowski parts company with the Volkswirtschaft theory of Karl Bticher. In general the historical or economic ethnology of the nineteenth century gradually developed a dichotomy between industrial labour and primitive labour. Industrial labour was systematic, with rational goals, carried out in a continuous and sustained manner according to periodic cycles, presupposing social organization, forethought and planning, and requiring intellectual effort. By contrast, primitive economy was more like play, and characterized by aperiodicity, excitement, ecstasy, intoxication and rhythm. It would be difficult not to see an Apollonian and Dionysian dichotomy in this or at least running parallel to it. But, as he had rejected Nietzsche's dichotomy between the primordial, ecstatic and intoxicated Dionysian and the measured, contemplative and rational Apollonian, so he rejected the Volkswirtschaft dichotomy between primitive and industrial labour. Since the labour performed in the intichiuma involves self-constraint, forethought, attention, free volitional effort, a high level of social organization and expenditure of energy (relative to the context!), it was therefore 'economic' in exactly the same sense that factory labour was 'economic'. The question of 'why?', however, remains. What are the 'intense mental stimuli which force [the Australian] into a form of labour normally repugnant to his nature'? While he acknowledges Biicher's point that the rhythm of communal labour or the beauty of its products may seem to be stimulus enough, it is 'the powerful complex of totemic ideas' itself that provides the stimulus to economic labour. The goals of labour, in other words, are not provided by ratiocination but are provided by mythology. From the 'native's point of view' this makes no difference since the mythical reality is precisely identical to reality - there is no other. Malinowski concludes that totemism is more than a false description of reality in terms of identification of clans with their 56

Introduction totemic species, but, as a practice and a form of social organization it motivates and 'educates' people to labour in order to achieve specific goals. Though these goals are 'mythological' they are pursued in a practical way. The magic that is used, moreover, since it is believed by the native to be effective in achieving its ends, must be understood not as an intellectual 'error', as Frazer did, but as a practical and economic technique. This conclusion, then, opens up for him a new field of study. 'The economic functions of religious and magical ideas', he maintains at the end of the essay, 'become an interesting and important subject of investigation' without which the 'any evolutionary scheme of economics must be incomplete'. It is religion and magic, in fact, that constitute 'the various coercive ideas and other powerful mental incentives which compel man to work and to work economically in savage society when no rational motives or outward coercion are able to move him'.41 In this essay he has moved beyond the 'division of labour' thesis and beyond the historical particularism of the Historical School of economics, and into a functionalism that refuses to distinguish between 'religion' and 'economy' as discrete institutions, but which seeks the religious and economic aspects of the institutions that ethnography actually reveals. These ideas receive their embodiment especially in Coral Gardens and Their Magic where he declares, the two ways, the way of magic and the way of garden work - megara la kada, bagula la kada - are inseparable. They are never confused, nor is one of them ever allowed to supercede the other . . . nor does this distinction between work and magic remain implicit and unexpressed (1935:76-7) DURKHEIM'S DICHOTOMY DISPUTED

This conclusion, of course, raises one other problem with respect to the Durkheimian definition of religion. He addressed this in the short 'A fundamental problem of religious sociology' published in 1914 (included in this volume). If intichiuma ceremonies are both religious and economic then it scarcely makes sense to define religion in terms of a dichotomy between 'sacred' and 'profane' as Durkheim had done. Malinowski is as pragmatic as he is diplomatic about his rejection of the Durkheimian claim: 'pending more evidence', he says, 'it would be rash to dogmatize on the subject'.42 Malinowski considers the sacred/profane distinction to 57

Malinowski's early writings be merely a social and contextual feature of Australian religion in particular and thus of no general theoretical consequence. Durkheim has simply taken over the native categories into his own theoretical system. Malinowski's approach to the economy of totemism, then, revealed an important horizon for an empirical, functionalist social anthropology, one that could be genuinely informed by data from the field. THE ESSAY ON 'THE RELATION OF PRIMITIVE BELIEFS TO THE FORMS OF SOCIAL ORGANIZATION'

Malinowski takes up in this essay the questions that he leaves at the end of his review of Frazer's Totemism and Exogamy. It is an explicit attempt to formulate clearly a theoretical concept and to articulate a method. Totemism' he shows, does not exist as a discrete category of similar concepts or practices nor is it a discrete institution that can exist across different historical times, cultures or societies. At best, totemism is a 'set of heterogeneous and loosely connected phenomena' some of which are 'social' while others 'religious'.43 In other words, there is no 'essence' of totemism, simply defined or 'univocally determined'. The study of 'totemism', he acknowledges, is 'an extremely fashionable subject in present day [1913] ethnology',44 but he claims that what we 'recognize' as totemism is 'manifold symptoms' which may or may not point to an 'organic entity' that we could legitimately label as such and claim to study. Instead, Malinowski seeks to show that while totemism does not have a single source or 'origin', we can show how it arises and 'functions in the workings of complex and varied conditions,'45 and that under certain conditions, it constitutes 'the most durable type of religion for a living environment'.46 In this essay Malinowski explicitly and in so many words disavows history and historical methods in favour of a broadly 'functional' and 'genetic' approach. He begins with a brief survey of the kinds of totems mentioned in the literature, and the practices relating to them. Malinowski discovers inductively several general patterns in the data of totemism. Treating totemism as a 'religious' phenomenon, he notes (i) that of 1,645 kinds of totems in his list, animal totems outnumber plant totems by four to one, (ii) that the most 58

Introduction prevalent practice is negative, namely a taboo on eating the totem, (iii) that of the few positive rites that exist, the Australian intichiuma rituals are exemplary, (iv) that the relationship between man and the totem is never a simple one of putative kinship or ancestry, mode of reference, name or emblem, and (v) that totems are never arranged hierarchically, but always 'equivalent to and independent of one another'. Significantly, he emphasizes that on the basis of the evidence available, none of these features can be considered 'primordial'. Treating totemism as a 'social' phenomenon, Malinowski notes that totemism is closely related to a specific form of social organization, that of the tribe with its constituent and mutually equivalent clans, and that 'it functions to join the clan into a tribal unity'. 47 This we recognize as a fundamental tenet of functionalism, which, at this level of abstraction, Malinowski shares with Durkheim. There is, however, a crucial difference. While Durkheim used this 'functionalist' principle within a larger evolutionist theory, making of it not just the 'elementary form' of religion, but also the seed from which true science sprouted and grew, Malinowski remains outside of the evolutionist discourse entirely. Totemism, for Malinowski, is not identified with 'primitive science', but is itself the particular 'expression' of a more general 'attitude to the environment'. This attitude to the environment, he says, is complex and is conditioned but not determined by the 'struggle for existence', lack of control over natural events, the challenges of life crises and sexuality, and the needs for nourishment and for defense against dangers 'real and imagined'. This theory is in itself a much more complex and more pragmatic theory than those of either Durkheim or Radcliffe-Brown. While clearly echoing the methods of Mach (positive data, clear theory), Nietzsche (genealogy, lack of evolutionist teleology) and Virchow (symptoms, attitudes), these ideas look forward to the full flowering of a theory of functionalism. Malinowski also agrees with Durkheim that the idea of totemism does not relate to individual animals, but to categories of animals, namely species in their categorical entirety (cf. Durkheim 1912). They also agree about the logical status of totemism, that is, that it presents both a natural classification and a 'categorical imperative' 48 and thus provides a theory of natural order for the environment and of moral order for society, 59

Malinowski's early writings not just a random description. In this way, some of the ideas in this essay anticipate the work of the French anthropologist Claude Levi-Strauss. Considering the detailed content of totemic practices, and playing on another 'fashionable' topic of anthropological analysis, Malinowski notes that taboos relating to totemic animals 'possess an economic character as a kind of division of consumption'49 - they are mostly edible, but not by everyone. Since they also express an 'attitude about the environment', totems are also 'crystallizing foci for . . . ideas'50 about what in nature is most similar to man, and what it is about man that is most unlike nature. Though these ideas are not expressed with epigrammatic precision, they remind us of Levi-Strauss' famous remark about totems: that they are both good to eat and good to think (Levi-Strauss 1962). Finally, at the end of the essay, Malinowski evinces again the Nietzschean agnosticism concerning history and origins. Totemism, he argues, can never be accounted for historically. This is partly because the textual resources do not exist, but more fundamentally, because the practices and beliefs of totemism can not be understood in terms of a sequence of events or in terms of causes. Its features are not parts of historical successions nor stages of an evolution but, instead, elements of'a chain of facts'51 that must be comprehended 'simultaneously', in 'parallel', by juxtaposition, 'one in the light of another'. Malinowski's conclusion to 'The relationship of primitive beliefs to the forms of social organization', then, can be seen as a manifesto for the functionalism that he went on to develop. Since the cult of the particular totems is associated with the clan, and the clans are integrated into a whole through their functions . . . the necessity for a simultaneous investigation of primitive beliefs and social differentiation is apparent. Only by juxtaposing these two aspects can we comprehend the essence of primitive religions . . . Only the general character of those functions which weld the individual clans into a higher tribal entity and the general characters of the beliefs pertaining to the cult objects of equal rank, taken together, enable us to define totemism.52

Thus, whether the 'symptoms' of totemism that Frazer catalogued actually indicate the existence of the organic and multifunctional institution is a question that can only be answered empirically. 60

Introduction THE ESSAY ON 'THE SOCIOLOGY OF THE FAMILY', A REVIEW OF THE LITERATURE

The essay on the family, written in German, is the weakest essay from the theoretical perspective. It is divided into two parts; the first part reviews briefly the works on the evolution of kinship, and touches on Maine, Fustel de Coulanges, Grote, Bachofen, Morgan, McLennan, Crawley and a few others who are less wellknown to English-readers such as Hildebrand, Dargun and Muller-Lyer. The latter were all historians of law or economics who wrote in Cracow or in Leipzig where Malinowski had studied with Bucher and Wundt. Dargun, in particular was a close friend of Malinowski's father, and a professor of law at Cracow University who introduced ethnology into the study of law. From this emerged an interest in origins and development of the family and in forms of property. He believed that individual ownership of property was certainly the original form of ownership, and that communal forms of ownership were legal institutions appropriate to 'higher stages' of legal evolution. Possibly reflecting his father's friend's position, Malinowski showed in his Trobriand ethnography that individual ownership, not communal property, was the rule. He credits Dargun here, however, with a functionalist understanding of the family in relation to other institutions in society. The second section deals, also briefly and dismissively, with contemporary (that is, as of 1913) works on the sociology of the European and American family, and the problems that faced it and which threatened to 'transform' it profoundly. There are, however, a number of points of interest in the survey. First of all is the fact that 'the family' itself should have attracted Malinowski's attention so strongly. This review itself shows the intensity and extent of European interest in the 'problems' of women, children and sex, especially with respect to the 'institutions' of marriage, child labour, and prostitution, and the exclusion of women from participation in politics. All of these issues provoked intense debate among churchmen and socialists, members of labour unions, social clubs and political parties, intellectuals and politicians. The plots of most major nineteenth century novels revolved around these questions, and artists portrayed these themes in their paintings. It is not surprising that they should be central to the ethnological literature as well. It 61

Malinowski's early writings should be remembered, however, that with the exception of works like August Bebel's Woman and Socialism, Engels' The Origin of the Family, Private Property and the State, or in the works of feminists such as Olive Schreiner and Annie Besant, the family was not really a scientific issue. Established philosophers, historians and economists dealt with religion, politics and industry, not sexuality, women and reproduction. Malinowski's focus, then, was somewhat unusual for an ambitious young man, but these academic lacunae proved to be his frontier. His review reveals an extensive and detailed knowledge of a large literature. It probably constitutes a review of the literature conducted in parallel with his writing of The Family among the Australian Aborigines (1913), Malinowski's first book published in English. In the review he promises a 'later study' that will be more 'constructive', and it may be that he had the Australian book in mind, but only one work, Alfred Crawley's, The Mystic Rose, which is mentioned in the text of the review, is included, in an 'Addendum' to The Family among the Australian Aborigines. The book echoes the review, however, when Malinowski says in the first line of the book that 'The problems of the social forms of family life still present some obscurities' (1913:1). In the first part, Malinowski's discussion of the evolutionist and historical schools gives only enough detail of argument to make it seem reasonable to dismiss them as theoretically and methodologically unsound. None of the depth of criticism that we find in the review of Frazer is found here. He complains that there is often a 'polemical, often irritated tone' in much of the work of the evolutionists, and expresses the suspicion that the 'communist ideal for the future' probably influenced the speculations about the past of such socialist writers as Friedrich Engels and August Bebel. Among the 'historical school' he praises only Lothar Dargun for a valuable introduction of the concepts of power (Gewalt) and kinship. Malinowski's approval of Dargun's insight into the functional dependence of the kinship relations on jural, moral and economic factors signals the approach Malinowski himself subsequently took. The basis for Malinowski's approach to the family, however, came not from his original criticism of the German and British speculative historians but rather from Westermarck's The History of Human Marriage (1892). Edvard Westermarck (183262

Introduction 1931) was a Finnish sociologist who taught at the London School of Economics between 1906 and 1930 and who, as his teacher, had a major influence on Malinowski after Malinowski went to London. His work on the family and kinship and marriage, together with those of Malinowski, William H. R. Rivers and A. R. Radcliffe-Brown, eventually effectively silenced, at least in Western anthropology, the sterile debate about 'group marriage', 'primitive promiscuity', 'matriarchate', and 'patriarchate'. Westermarck's approach was most innovative in introducing comparisons between human social structure and that of higher vertebrates and the anthropoid apes. His methods presaged the growth of ethology, the study of animal social organization, and of sociobiology, a discourse on the biological evolution of social behaviour informed by Darwinian principles. These later studies have largely confirmed Westermarck's findings that the family, consisting of a relatively monogamous union of a male and female adult with their children belonging to both (that is not exclusively patri- or matrilineal), was most probably the elementary form of even the earliest human societies. Malinowski immediately recognized the superiority of this viewpoint. Westermarck's and Dargun's sociological approaches meant that the variety of social forms seen in human communities would no longer be seen as 'stages' in a universal evolution of a single social form, that of monogamous marriage and cognatic kinship, but as different social practices existing under different social conditions. 'The most important task of sociological research', he wrote, 'is to analyze accurately family life and . . . to investigate their mutual dependencies and external conditions'. This is what he did in precise and elaborate detail with the empirical literature on the Australian Aboriginal families. Compare, for instance, Malinowski's statement in The Family among the Australian Aborigines: The aim of the present study is to define what this individual relationship is; to describe its different aspects and features; how it manifests itself in its different social functions and, as far as can be ascertained, how it must impress itself upon the native mind. . . . It is not the actual relationship, or the individual family, or 'family in the European sense' which we have to look for in Australia. It is the aboriginal Australian individual family with all its peculiarities and characteristic features which must be reconstructed from the evidence . . . In other words we 63

Malinowski's early writings have to look for the connection between the facts of family life and the general structure of society and forms of native life. (1913:8) That work is recognized today as a landmark study, introducing the special tools of Functionalist analysis, even though it lacked original data collected in the field. The second section of the survey simply points to problems in the contemporary sociology of the family. There are some elements of concern here that he took up in his writings on marriage and family in the 1930s and again much later in, for example, The Foundations of Faith and Morals (1936) and Freedom and Civilization (1944b). For the most part these are familiar to everyone today: divorce, the role of the family in education, the rights and position of children, the neglect of children by working parents, the economic, legal, and political position of women, the decreasing productive role of the housewife, and 'sexual abuses' such as prostitution, sex crimes and sexually-transmitted diseases. Only the reform of marriage laws and eugenics, also included in his list, seem out of place today. All of these problems that he notices in this survey suggest to him that the family is being irrevocably and profoundly 'transformed', but Malinowski finds little theoretical sophistication in this literature, and offers none of his own. Remarking that much of the contemporary sociological literature is journalistic, or is written in service of particular socialist, religious, eugenicist, or other moral and political views, he sees no new ways to understand these problems, let alone cope with them. His suggestion that this failure is due to the fact that we are too close to the data of our own society to understand it well and points toward the horizon of fieldwork and travel to societies where, while the data are more distant, the view of it is from close to his European home.

64

MALINOWSKI'S WRITINGS, 1904-1914

OBSERVATIONS ON FRIEDRICH NIETZSCHE'S THE BIRTH OF TRAGEDY*

1. The conceptual system which permeates this entire work, and in which the majority of [Nietzsche's] thoughts are expressed, is based on the metaphysics of Schopenhauer. This is reflected both in the terminology and in the basic treatment of the problem. Metaphysics as a direction of philosophical thinking is an attempt at a direct definition of reality in conceptual form. It is meant to be a precise, intellectually formulated answer to the question, What is reality? What is the absolute? The possibility of posing these questions is given in the basic division which we always and everywhere encounter in our experience: body and soul, objective and subjective objects, the world as seen from the outside and as felt to have an additional inner essence. This dualism assumes various forms which coincide in part, and in part are mutually contradictory; but the heterogeneity, the absence of a bridge between these two basically different worlds, is always in the foreground. However, something more than purely empirical dualism is hidden in the very posing of the basic question of metaphysics. Defining something to be an absolute reality, and consequently relegating everything else to the order of appearances, of something negative and secondary, already contains a value judgement and thus emotional factors in addition to purely conceptual, cognitive ones. And indeed metaphysics is something more than a philosophical discipline, it is a basic symptom of certain features in the structure of the human soul. We could briefly define it in this manner, that the world of emotions is hopelessly entwined with the world of pure thought; that thought, guided by forces of nature foreign to it, must drift aimlessly through dimensions forever closed to it. Absolute reality and truth are not postulates of cognition [poznanie], but of •Original in handwritten Polish. Bronislaw Malinowski Papers, Manuscript and Archives, Stirling Library, Yale University, Group No. 19, Series II, Box 27, file 237. 67

Malinowski's early writings a certain spiritual quietism [pewnego kwietyzmu duchowego], existing only in the world of feelings, and its absolute need and hope; thought sets out in search of this ideal Eldorado with its eyes blindfolded and calls the road traversed in darkness mere appearance and falsehood, and calls the vision of the unattainable goal truth, about which it hears tales in languages entirely foreign to it, which it awkwardly translates into its own idiom. — This subjective, emotional character, and at the same time the origin of metaphysics is reflected most distinctly in its concepts. They always express the desire to merge with and to penetrate into the objective world, as they find it around themselves, demanding that it be more human, more suitable to our feelings. In almost every metaphysical system, the essence of things, the absolute, the metaphysical reality is something which recalls the human soul [dusza ludzka]; while the cold, indifferent world of appearances is free from feelings, far from man. Whether the absolute is a personal God, a God permeating the world and fused with it; or monads, the individual souls of all things; or Schopenhauer's Will - everywhere the metaphysically conceived essence of things is a subjectivization, a humanization of reality; tuning itself to the resonance of our inner experiences and longings. Sometimes this leans more towards rationalizing everything: endowing each thing (or the universe) with a rational soul; sometimes it is made ethical, and sometimes that which is subjective in the most general sense is impressed into reality: this is Schopenhauer's Will. Thus, metaphysics, judged from the purely scientific point of view, is a system of exact and pure concepts, which must always contain the nucleus of bankruptcy within itself, since it is scientific thought impregnated with feelings; but as a basic direction and symptom of the soul, it is a necessary and indestructible phenomenon. For Schopenhauer, the world as we see it directly, as everything which surrounds us which we experience with our senses, and as that which exists in space and time and which is subject to causality, is the world of appearances. But under these appearances the soul of the world is contained, just as within our body there is a soul, which we apprehend 'from inside' as our ego. Schopenhauer calls that which is to be found under the cover of the appearances Will, and considers it to be an absolute, the soul of the universe. What we feel within ourselves as our ego, in the

Observations on Friedrich Nietzsche's The Birth of Tragedy fullness of its subjectivism, is a particle of the general Will, incorporated in our body. The relationship of the Will to the universe of appearances is identical to the relationship of our soul to our body. By nature the Will is one and indivisible; in assuming its body (becoming the world of appearances, that is, the universe as it appears to us) it had to submit to certain conditions: from being intangible, eternal, and unlimited by anything, it became limited by time, space, and causality, and it had to be broken up, to become embodied in individuals. This act, to which the Will was pushed by inner fatality, and which is the cause of all evil, is the 'principium individuationis'. In The Birth of Tragedy,1 Nietzsche operates exclusively within the framework of Schopenhauer's system, actually following the course of his thoughts, and he even exceeds the philosophy of Schopenhauer in his basic metaphysical attitude. He stands on the border between transcendental metaphysics, which apprehends everything in categories, and evaluates them with reference to these categories, and practical metaphysics, which is concerned with justifying life and searching for its value in man's attitude toward the world. This book is first of all a treatment and justification of the world as an aesthetic phenomenon; i.e., it seeks not reality, but value - and actually not the value of the world, but of life, since aestheticism cannot be deduced as an objective quality of the world, but is rather always the result of man's (subjective) attitude towards the world. Now this is a profoundly sceptical attitude for philosophy to have towards reality, and very far from metaphysical transcendentalism. 2. This book, dealing with myth, presenting an analysis and definition of myth - is itself, as a form of creativity, a conception of thought- a myth. It is a myth about the birth of tragedy, about Apollonian and Dionysian art, about Greece and its Olympian Gods and about theoretical man, who has ultimately killed the Hellenic spirit. Myth is a basic category of reference to the historical past. In contrast with pure history, which is satisfied with the reconstruction of facts, and with scientific history (sociology), which wishes to find the laws of historical becomings - myth searches the past for the embodiment of ideals; the phantoms resurrected 69

Malinowski's early writings by it shed strong lights across the perspective of centuries which colour the present. The images of the past created by myth are incommensurate with the present reality; they are, so to speak, drawn from another dimension. At one pole myth touches artistic creativity, for its constructs are to fill a certain void left by the world around us; they are to be the complement to present reality, not according to scientific principles but according to the demands of our inner longing. At the other pole myth leans on religion, for the past recreated by it entwines the present in a net of norms and subordinates the present to itself ethically. But a close connection exists between the myth and the religious aspects of myth. As the soul of dogma, myth is its artistic complement; it is the form in which the artistic experience of faith merges with faith crystallized in pure concepts (dry theological dogma). Religion, as a living psychological entity in the soul of a believer, is (as an ideal) the highest synthesis of subjective elements; therefore it must absorb the release of artistic energies. This is evident among people whose religion has preserved its fullness and vividness. As religion ossifies, either in the historical development of a given society or in a vertical cross-section of society from bottom to top, myth is replaced by dogma, faith in immaterial things, faith transplanted to the ground of reason where it can exist only in the artificial and unhealthy atmosphere of scholastic rationalism (cf. The Birth of Tragedy, 10, p. 76) } Myth is the result of the emotional denial of the logical postulates of the uniformity of space and time. The longing for something better makes us believe that somewhere far away the world is completely different and that life there may turn out much better. And time, removed far away from the present moment, appears in our daydreams as a mysterious interior, full of most beautiful possibilities. Thought and dream are not strong enough to bear the burden of the reality of our pain, with which every moment of our life is branded. Every human being has such regions to which he escapes from the impossibility of sustaining the burden; and mankind has socially created a countless number of paradises, which seem to be a necessity for every people who believe in death. (People of a very low culture do not know that death is something natural and necessary. They regard each individual case as something abnormal, and usually attribute it to evil 70

Observations on Friedrich Nietzsche's The Birth of Tragedy spells. Such peoples possess religions without a heaven.) (This is why the myth of Olympus is not yet a proof of the exuberant pessimism of the Greeks; cf. The Birth of Tragedy, 3, p. 313). — Hellas has long been such a myth of learned humanists, and even of some non-scholars and non-humanists but people of genius, such as Winckelmann and Goethe. The Greeks, their art, life and culture have already become the object of so many legends that they glitter before our eyes with a whole gamut of values, beauty, simplicity, and nobility; they are linked to our lives by a multitude of personal things, which each of us feels in relation to them. Greece is not a past reality which no longer exists and which can only be recreated by thought and imagination in indistinct shadows from a few vestiges. For us Greece is a living presence which our dreams and a certain sense of values constantly place before our eyes; it is a prototype for us of beauty and happiness which once flourished on the earth, a phantom of a white marble column sharply outlined against the blue sky and the azure sea; the radiance of an externally young and living ruin; it triumphs over the notches which time and oblivion have carved to ennoble it even more. We do not approach any Greek thing with the calm and objectivity which we have for other historical phenomena. Hellas appears as a bright island amid and above the sea of barbarism. The cult of Hellas and Hellenic things is stronger in The Birth of Tragedy than anywhere else. — Just as myth, as a phenomenon of individual psychology, is a manifestation of certain artistic or metaphysical needs, in myth as a phenomenon of 'social psychology' religious traits appear in the foreground. This basic reference to the past, aside from searching for the lost paradise, consists in seeing a justification for the moral order of the world in the past. What was, explains what is. The function of myth is not so visible in our religion, for example, and, in general, in higher forms of religion, which possess developed theological dogmatics. But in lower types of religion where our dogma is replaced by myth, we always encounter the explanatory function of myth. Every moral ordinance and act of worship is justified by some event which occurred in the past. Because of the facts related by myth, past life, apprehended in the form of myth, takes on the character of a higher necessity and is raised above the sphere of ordinary human feelings. Thanks to their special position, mythical events, as prototypes of human behaviour, assume an entirely new dimension, they become 71

Malinowski's early writings something necessary and superhuman. It may be said that they are the feelings and experiences of entire generations who believed in this myth and behaved according to it; the events of the myth turn ordinary human matters into something superhumanly radiant. These assertions could be supported with facts from the mythology of various peoples; how it is reflected in their religious, artistic and social life. Taking an example from the sphere closest to us, the most tragic thing in our own religion is probably the death of Christ. It could be shown objectively, and it is immediately apparent when we reach back to the subjective experiences of childish faith, that this fact has been raised above the brutality, severity, and horror of naked human suffering. We could mention the following objective facts: the symbolizing of Christ's passion in the Mass, in which the soul of the believer repeatedly experiences symbolically the sacrifice of Christ and mystically tries to recreate the Lord's passion; this obviously must completely blunt the immediacy of any feeling or emotional reaction; then there are passion-plays as semi-religious and semi-artistic productions; such concepts as Christ's suffering being ours, in which human suffering is drowned, i.e., as a kind of palliative, etc. Religious doctrine is an immense reservoir of such various rituals, ideas, and concepts, part of which is reflected in the soul of every believer, and assumes various forms depending on devoutness, education, and sensitivity, but everywhere and always it transforms the directness of the emotional reference into some mystical dimension. From these matters closest to us, we could go further and examine the mythologies of other religions; the results would be analogous everywhere. 3. Myth (as a form of apprehension), is also the duality of art, personified in the radiantly smiling figure of Apollo and in the orgiastic dance of Dionysus. It is a beautiful picture, invariably beautiful in itself, and beautiful in the thoughts which it symbolizes, enticing us into a deceptive depth. It is one of the psychologically creative conceptions which suggest an inner reference to art. Nevertheless, the reality of our experiences will always resist such classifications with its deepest instincts and will enable us to perceive where the basic error of this classification is to be found by a sober and conscientious analysis. Nietzsche's concept of the duality of art, Apollonian and Dionysian, cannot be maintained on closer inspection either as a division of subjective artistic experiences or as a classification of the arts, as specific objective 72

Observations on Friedrich Nietzsche's The Birth of Tragedy works. As far as I am concerned, the essence of art, that which distinguishes it from other forms of self-expression, is the direct action of certain sensory elements (musical sound, colour, line, rhythm, the sound of human speech) through which the recipient is put into a specific state of trance or ecstasy, more or less distinct and intense. There is no art without such a state of dislocated, modified consciousness and removal of sobriety. In such a psychic state reality appears before us in a new form, or new spaces of reality open up to us, where we find satisfaction of our metaphysical longings, filling the void which sober reality always contains in its breast, surrounded as it were by a multi-coloured but cold and infinitely thin shell of the orbis pictus. Thus, art, metaphysics, and myth are genetically related. In order to grasp better what Nietzsche wishes to grasp in his Apollo-Dionysus opposition, I have collected his definitions in a synoptic table: Kinds and characteristics of Dionysian Art: Music without any images (p. 43) [1968:50]. Revelry, direct experience of primordial pain, intoxication (pp. 25 and 43) [1968:36 and 50]. Music is a phenomenon of the Will [in Schopenhauer's sense of the term] (pp. 49-50) [1968:55]. Lack of imagery (p. 21) [1968:33]. Ecstacy over the collapse of the 'principi um indi vidua ti on is' (p. 25) [1968:36]. Fusing one's self with nature, with the Will, and with 'the primordial unity' (p. 26) [1968:37-38].

Kinds and characteristics of Apollonian Art: Plastic art, epic poetry (p. 43) [1968:50].4 Pure contemplation (p. 24) [1968:35]. Redemption through illusion (p. 36) [1968:45]. The sensation that the dream is mere appearance (p. 23) [1968:34,45]. Imagistic art, the image of the 'principium individuationis', the joy and wisdom of 'illusion' (p. 21, 24) [1968:36]. The primordial pleasure of mere appearance (p. 43) [1968:50].

73

Malinowski's early writings (cont.) Kinds and characteristics of Apollonian Art: The myth of Olympus as a ereation of Apollonian art (section3). Measure as a characteristic of Apollonian art (p. 37) [1968:46].

Kinds and characteristics of Dionysian Art: Intoxication, rapture, ecstacy, oblivion, and then nausea (p. 56) [1968:60]. The titanic' 5 and 'the barbaric' in Dionysian art (p. 38) [1968:46].

Combination of Apollonian and Dionysian Elements Lyric Poetry, expressing Dionysian content with Apollonian language (with music) (sections 5 8a 6). Apollonian music, primarily the beat of rhythm; 'Doric architectonics in tones'. Tragedy, as the most profound combination of these two elements (sections 8 & 9).

If we subject the contents of this table to a closer analysis, we are struck, first of all by the fact that the Apollo-Dionysus opposition is based primarily on Schopenhauer's metaphysics. (Contemplation of appearances - direct expression of primordial pain; redemption through illusion - intoxication, immersion in the Will; ecstacy in the principium individuationis - ecstacy over its collapse.) For anyone who is not an advocate of Schopenhauerism, all of these definitions are-prima facie, as the first, natural reflex - devoid of sense. Indeed, in my opinion, this opposition resulted from, grew out of Schopenhauerism, stands by it, falls with it, and in fact cannot be upheld. But like every Transcendentalism (see no. 1 above) Schopenhauer's metaphysics expresses certain psychological realities. Schopenhauer's Will, his absolute, is a dreamed for, longed for, and thus a subjectivized reality; it is the most subjective quintessence of our subjective essence. According to what was said above about art, in an artistic work there must always be such a new, subjective reality, which is the actual essence of art, a new area of space to which art introduces the man experiencing it. The trance or ecstacy we experience under the influence of the harmony of sounds or colours is an essential moment of artistry; it cannot be made the monopoly of a certain category of the arts. Therefore if Nietzsche considers 74

Observations on Friedrich Nietzsche's The Birth of Tragedy music and some forms of poetry to be arts expressing the Will, in contrast to plastic art, which is satisfied with elements of Mere Appearance, then, translating Schopenhauer's terminology into the language of psychological facts, we must reject Nietzsche's assertion as false: in each art as such there is a direct expression of things emotionally transcendent, that which Schopenhauer has called Will. In other words, there is no such thing as a nonDionysian art which does not give us a direct union with the primordial unity. (I quote these concepts sub beneficio inventariil) From this point of view, after bringing Schopenhauer's fiction into the sphere of empiricism, the Apollonian-Dionysian distinction turns out to be completely erroneous. — We don't really know whether the above distinction refers to kinds of art, purely objectively, or to the psychological forms of experiencing them. Since music can be both Dionysian and Apollonian, and poetry can also, it would therefore rather refer to some basic traits of certain kinds of art, and not to the kinds of art in their entirety. On the other hand Nietzsche sets up this distinction as something basic, prime, and diametrically opposed - and as such it could perhaps refer to a subjective experience of art, and not to an objective classification which is blurred. In general one can feel that we are moving here into the sphere of metaphysics, i.e., of nebulous concepts not referring to any concrete, clearly and unequivocally defined reality. Now I would like to turn our attention to two important facts which cannot be dealt with so negatively, since they correspond to certain real facts, which Nietzsche, however, does not express adequately. I. Both music and poetry can participate in the two basic spheres of art (Apollonian and Dionysian), either as epic poetry and Apollonian music on the one hand, or as Dionysian music on the other, or as mixed forms: lyric poetry and tragedy. Only to plastic art is access to the other side barred: according to Nietzsche there is no Dionysian plastic art. II. The Apollo-Dionysus distinction also possesses a physiological foundation. Explaining the character and essence of Apollonian art as a dream, aside from its connection with Schopenhauer's philosophy, also possesses a physiological meaning, which, however, Nietzsche does not emphasize. Dream and calm contemplation are distinguished in contrast to orgy, dance, frenzy, a certain characteristic way of experiencing art which can undoubtedly be found in psychological reality. But if Nietzs75

Malinowski's early writings che contrasts the Apollonian dream with the Dionysian rapture and narcosis, it is apparent that this would, above all, diminish both of these concepts, which have the same meaning as psychological symbolism, and indeed this is, again, a return from a psychological to a metaphysical treatment. And yet, it is precisely from a purely physiological (or psychological, it is only a question of terminology) point of view that a division of artistic experiences can be undertaken, which, as it appears to me, is the only psychic reality which Nietzsche must have had indistinctly before his eyes when he created the Apollonian-Dionysian conception. I have the impression (I have not had time to think it over sufficiently) that there are actually two entirely different states of the body in which we experience art. The subjective psychic states which become the source of art - that undifferentiated creative chaos - may externalize themselves, or rather release the physiological energy of the organism, in two ways: either they find their expression in direct motion, physiological activities in general (dance, song, artistic mimicry, of which poetry as a direct expression is a subdivision), or the creative pulp may lead the body into congealing into an ecstatic immobility in which the transmission of the nervous substance occurs more intensely, as it does in the pathological states of catalepsy. Physiologically, these two states seem basically different to me, and I suppose that they could be precisely differentiated comparatively. Psychologically, I also see a distinct difference introspectively between an ecstatic or narcotic experience of music, for example, and its orgiastic enjoyment. When under the influence of a musical symphony, I am slowly frozen into a complete state of powerlessness of the body and experience a feeling as though my spirit, free after leaving its lifeless shell, were flying somewhere in the mysterious regions of new realities; this dissociation of body from soul is for me an absolutely concrete experience. On the other hand, when under the influence of music I can also feel how my whole body vibrates involuntarily and how the rhythm of each muscle impels me to dance in order to express what I am experiencing by the integral rhythm of my entire body - introspectively, these two ways of receiving music are something basically different. In the same way in song, and in the mimetic expression of feelings (the experiences of the actor, insofar as I can recreate them) the whole body experiences the art. It may be said that in the ecstatic 76

Observations on Friedrich Nietzsche's The Birth of Tragedy workings of art, we feel as if a new world opens up within us, which absorbs us and destroys the sensations of the world outside us. In an orgiastic experience we externalize ourselves, letting ourselves become a tool of some sort of force which changes our body into something which we feel as existing beyond us, on the outside; we merge with the environment, becoming a part of it. Speaking metaphysically: in an ecstatic experience of art, we approach reality by feeling it arise within us; in an orgiastic experience, we approach reality from the outside by merging with it as a part of the whole. (This 'metaphysical' formulation is only a symbolic expression for certain real feelings.) Of course, as with any psycho-physical distinction the one above is only a simple analysis of a state which is in reality quite complex. It presents two poles between which the real states range and which one encounters in a completely pure form only in exceptional cases. We could discuss this distinction in detail in the spheres of music and of the poetic arts. It sheds interesting light especially on the ethnological development of art. The art of savage peoples, i.e. primitive art, is solely orgiastic. The frozen, internally mute way of experiencing art, ecstatically, is proper only to higher levels of culture, and even here it is almost exclusively in reference to the higher arts. Dance has ceased to be art for us just as it has ceased to be a component of religion. Let us now turn to the plastic arts, which occupy an exceptional place in Nietzsche's scheme, but which place is not justified or explained there. On the basis of a psychological division of the arts into ecstatic and orgiastic, this exceptional place of the plastic arts, with painting in the forefront, can be easily explained: the physical elements employed by the plastic artist (especially colour) are not components of our bodies, they are not among the physiological elements with which we can express our subjective states. We can express sound, word, and rhythm all by direct movements of our bodies, but not colour. The painter, when he paints, is not expressing himself directly through a physiological function, as a singer or a dancer does. The artistic elements of architecture stand in a relationship to our bodies analogous to the colours of painting. Sculpture, as an art referring directly to the shapes of the human body, has its orgiastic counterpart, perhaps, in the dance. This physiological classification seems to me to be the only rational, real residuum remaining from the analysis of Nietzs77

Malinowski's early writings che's opposition. Perhaps it would be an interesting viewpoint for a sociological examination of art; evolutionary problems of art; and even some biological problems. Darwin tried to deduce song and dance, and with them the majority of art, from animal mating calls. The mimetic arts could also be reduced to biological sources on the basis of Darwin's works (cf. On the Expression of the Emotions in Man and Animals6). In both instances primitive art would be purely orgiastic. We would still have to provide the biological justification for the slow passage of all arts into the realm of ecstatic experiences. But it is apparent that the division outlined here does not have any pretence to the metaphysical basicness of the Apollo-Dionysus dichotomy. Moreover, this division cannot explain anything in the art itself; it cannot shed light on the essence of the artistic experience, since it departs from ascertaining the duality of this experience, and, as it were, from dealing with it from outside. It is also a fact that Nietzsche has not clearly formulated the physiological basis for his division anywhere, even though he must have had something like this before his eyes. It seems to me that this division cannot be made on an empirical, psycho-physical basis in any other way than as I have formulated it. But the division presented here obviously does not correspond to Nietzsche's dichotomy: if only because it assigns one of the elements an incomparably lower place in the hierarchy of artistic experiences, because all of the arts, with the exception of painting and architecture, can express both basic tendencies, and because it foregoes, clearly and a priori, any claim to explain the inner secrets of arts and to move the viewpoint of the man experiencing art deeper into aesthetic cognition, even by a step. 4. In general, aside from those places where Nietzsche expresses himself in the language of critical philosophy (Kant and Schopenhauer) , his style is distinguished less by scientific precision than by artistic imagination. His magnificent and powerful aphorisms, with which he often closes the development of a given topic, almost without exception, have an artistic character; they are paradoxes. The paradox, which could be called 'the artistic form in the realm of concepts', is a thought which constantly shimmers and opalesces in its utterance, which cannot be directly assimilated, be transformed into a certain and unshakable component of any sort of inner synthesis, which cannot be reduced to a state of stable equilibrium: it always introduces motion and 78

Observations on Friedrich Nietzsche's The Birth of Tragedy creativity whenever we touch it. Schopenhauer's nomenclature, pressing thoughts into dry schemata, and the fiery, aphoristic style of Nietzsche, constantly fertilizing our thought and imagination with paradoxes, flow parallel and at different tempos and carry two, basically different spiritual currents. After stripping the work of Schopenhauer's metaphysical cover, the thoughts and conceptions which remain are decidedly much deeper and more interesting. The beautiful, mythical reference to Greece, the problem of Greek pessimism, the treatment of the tendency of tragedy to be an expression of strength and spiritual titanism, and especially the problem of theoretical man, the enemy and killer of tragedy - all these things, as far as I can see, must survive in their basic features. It is characteristic that only they survived the few years separating the 'Preface to the Second Edition' from the writing of the rest of the work. Apollo and Dionysus and the deification of Wagner, both of which are connected to Schopenhauer, were shelved already in the 'Attempt at a Self-Criticism', and rightly so! 5. Personally, I am not so much interested in the special aspect of Nietzsche's investigations in his work: in the problem of the origin of Greek tragedy, the significance of the chorus, etc., but rather in the basic problem of tragedy and of the tragic, on which, by the way, The Birth of Tragedy sheds light in many basic points. There is a contradiction at the very foundation of our attitude towards 'the tragic'. The profound spell which it casts upon us, the distinct attraction which we feel towards tragic things, is a feeling which, as it were, contains its own contradiction. How can we explain a tendency to compose a form of art, tragedy, from those things in life which are most threatening, most horrible, from which we instinctively recoil? From that which, in essence, is the source of art, but in a negative fashion, against which art is a medicine, an antidote? Could this be some sort of homeopathy, driving one nail out with another? Such a formulation of the problem, which by no means is the result of any special aesthetic doctrine, nor is it the result of a special world view (although this point of view is extremely clearly emphasized in the context of Schopenhauer's system), is a formulation of the psychological function of art. Wanting to shed some psychological light on this problem is very attractive. In order to define more closely the concept to which we have been constantly referring, we might say that the tragic is the 79

Malinowski's early writings result of that force which forces us to crawl out of and look beyond reality; it orders us to look between the wheels of necessity's mechanism, in full consciousness of the fact that sooner or later this mechanism will grind us into dust. Then is this some kind of 'deeper' curiosity? Not at all. Life constantly leads us into objectively terrible situations with no way out. But our selfpreservation instinct moulds our psychic attitude towards these things in a two-fold manner: tragic and (let us coin the term!) 'vitalistic' ['witalistyczny']. The tragic is that form of the self-preservation instinct which draws its life, and thus its creative forces from emphasizing the dreadful most strongly, from apprehending it directly, from contemplating its essence - it is the apprehension of life through the prism of death. 'Vitalism' tends to level out all of life's bottomless abysses, to throw a curtain over them, to close our eyes to them; we could define it as a tendency towards justifying death. Both of these forms are actually equally important; both in the psyches of each of us, and among various peoples as a whole, they appear more or less strongly - there are people who are entirely non-tragic, and there are also moments of and dispositions toward this in everyone's life. Both of these instincts are psychically primordial and unverifiable; they cannot be explained by any means (by metaphysics, I dare say!), we can only observe their inner struggles and conflicts, their impact on the course of life, and also their objective, sociological forms. All of life is a struggle; it is a struggle insofar as we grant that the horror of life is the single adversary against which man takes his stand, armed with his spiritual creativity. But this is an escape into the realm beyond reality and necessity, into the sphere of human creativity, which is ridiculously meagre from the metaphysical point of view of the horror of life. For, in their effects both the tragic and vitalism tear us away from the immediate grasp of the talons of horror and carry us off to the place where, in contrast to the spectral harmony of pan-negation which permeates all of objective reality, everything is either a confirmation, a solution, or, if negation is employed, it is, as it were, tragically discredited, negation confirmed by man, and thus subjectivized and eo ipso controlled. Obviously, if we take this definition of the function of art as a point of departure, the problem arises of how art can employ the tragic as a material from 80

Observations on Friedrich Nietzsche's The Birth of Tragedy which the artist directly moulds the forms of his works. It is because tragedy is a form in which human life, passing through the medium of the tragic, is the dimension in which the creator moves. It is my general impression that tragedy casts some sort of special spell. I have always hoped that in tragedy I might find some sort of extraordinary resolutions to mysterious riddles, which I have not even been in the position of formulating to myself, but of whose existence I have had a presentiment. But no concrete work of art has ever fulfilled my expectations, especially contemporary dramas and tragedies such as Polish, Scandinavian, but also works by Schiller, Lessing, Goethe, Calderon; various exotic pieces, such as Indian or Japanese. Even Shakespeare's tragedies, although they always strongly attract my attention while reading or watching them, especially through their magnificent style and by opening up whole worlds, in the end left a vacuum of unfulfilled expectations, the impossibility of integrating what had been experienced into a higher unity. Only a performance of Oedipus Rex gave me a distinct satisfaction of my desire for the tragic. For once I had the impression that I was seeing a real tragedy. It occurred to me that a great deal of this was due to chance, the atmosphere of the moment, to suggestion. In view of my anti-classical disposition this seemed improbable, and I also felt instinctively that this was not so. But on the other hand, it also seemed a bit unlikely to me that the basic form of art was something relatively accidental - the producer of a special type of culture. Indeed German music, Greek and Medieval architecture, Greek sculpture, all contain something conditioned by the culture in which they arose and which enabled them to develop - but at any rate it was the problem of Greek tragedy that I was faced with. As I have mentioned, both of these psychic directions, which I have called the tragic and vitalistic, are specific spiritual forms of the self-preservation instinct. Man never relates passively to the horror of life and the terror of the universe. He is never a mere spectator of the gigantic pan-tragedy which takes place before his eyes but in whose mechanism he is entangled like an infinitesimal wheel. In their relation to these 'ultimate matters of man' the majority of people hide their heads under a blanket as they would before a nocturnal spectre - and continue to sleep in peace. In others a complex self-preservation apparatus develops, the two poles of which have been defined above; we could say 81

Malinowski's early writings without paradox that the full consciousness of the naked truth would kill a man like prussic acid. As soon as we spiritually approach certain things, we feel how psychic processes automatically occur, which turn us away, wall us off from these things. In relation to the inner perils threatening us from these things, an automatic reaction has developed as a basic psychic fact: a process of inner adaptation at the slightest contact with these things. And the source of the horrible thoughts and feelings is both our immersion into the objective structure of the universe and the constant conflicts encountered in life. From the abyss of the starry sky, from the boundlessness of the ocean waves, from the white fields of soft snow, and from the atmosphere of autumn and spring which tells of the changeless circularity of life and of its end from all of this the cold eyes watch us, staring through the void of the bottomless riddle. In the course of life we grow blunt to these metaphysical impressions, which in childhood I distinctly felt directly, but which now I feel more as symbols and an expression of the horror flowing from life. And here lies the source of never being able to dry up the evil which develops within us into pain and lies, into an incessant worry and into a no less terrible compromise: an evil which even debasing our selves to a state of thoughtlessness and carelessness cannot overcome. Death devouring life, and what is worse, life devouring death, life laughing the laughter of oblivion over the graves, in the cemetery of things still warm with yesterday's love, which yesterday were blood and spirit, this kaleidoscope defying the highest inner dignity: consolidating and crystallizing his own ego are things which man will never manage to do. Thus follows a psychic reaction absolutely sensitive and entirely automatic; an adaptation reaction which makes the realization of these things impossible in their direct nakedness, unshielded either by the beauty peculiar to the tragic, or by the strength of a metaphysical or, in general, of a conceptual idea. The most perfect, the most effective tool in this struggle against death, the tool in which the self-preservation instinct is revealed in its vitalistic form, is thought; thought which allows man to be, as it were, outside of himself, to split in two and calmly and contentedly - since thought suffers only in inactivity, and everything that happens is a source of delight for it - watch what is going on inside; to begin the industrious task of uncovering those things that are closed off, of classifying, ordering and explaining. 82

Observations on Friedrich Nietzsche's The Birth of Tragedy And man slowly forgets himself in this game, he crosses over completely to the side of the thinker and the spectator, and the pain and the suffering dissolve into the mist of already transformed pure reality, in its place there remains a scarred-over wound of the spirit, an intellectual conception which may be transformed into a work of art or of science. The term 'thought' is obviously used here in a very broad sense as the embodiment of the fundamental creative chaos, whether it be artistic or philosophical in nature. This is the basic function of the vitalistic form of the selfpreservation instinct, from which a new difficulty arises for the tragedian. He must fight against two difficulties: first of all he must form his work from a substance which by its very nature is something contrary to art; secondly, he must use elements against which the most basic reaction of anti-tragic thought begins at the slightest contact with horror, a process of de-tragedization, stripping these elements of their tragic value. And so the artist must use elements here which, when brought into the light of day, change immediately like a photographic plate; he is like a chemist who does research on and uses compounds which break down upon the slightest reaction. We must be aware that these two difficulties are of an entirely different nature: the former must deal with a direct reflex which makes all of us feel the elements of the horror of life and the awesomeness of the universe as something negative from which we must escape into the realm of ordinary, temporal, soothing things, i.e. into all spheres of human creativity which enable man to believe in himself. In their very nature these elements are 'horrible', 'disgusting', 'nerve-wracking', and 'overwhelming'. Only a specific creative act, something in the subjective treatment of these things, changes them into tragic elements, and this is the first task and difficulty for the tragedian. The second flows out of the further psychic course of our reaction towards horrible things: if we cannot escape them in thought, if external necessity fastens us to them, or if, already in the form of tragic elements, they also fascinate us and remain before our soul's eye, then 'thought', the destroyer of tragedy, begins its categorizing chore. Just as two different forces have united against tragedy, so the possibility of defeating them results from other heterogeneous forces. The first of these, the more basic, has already been compensated for, since it follows from what has been said above, in 83

Malinowski's early writings the very essence of our reference to those 'ultimate things'; it is the existence of tragedy as a natural tendency, as one of the two poles of the self-preservation instinct. Along with the natural abhorrence and panic, with which horribleness seizes us, we also feel a certain attraction to it. Just as, under certain conditions, the affirmation of life and inner well-being are necessary for the development of the individual, in some cases the tragic, remaining in the abysses of terror and over the depths of danger, is indispensable to creative exuberance and intensification of life. This contrast presents itself the more strongly in that it is dependent not on the external circumstances of life, but on inner needs. It is a fact, even though it may seem paradoxical, that human life can be predestined to a tragic course independently of the configuration of external conditions, to moving through these narrows, which lead us with inexorable force, even to our own destruction. This imposition of inner slavery upon ourselves flows from the deepest sources of free will. In general we can say that the higher man rises spiritually, the more determined and necessary is his path, and the more risky is his every step. The more that something assumes the external aspect of happiness and success, the more it assumes the internal aspect of duty studded with conflicts, and the more external misfortune assumes the inner value of purging and fertilizing forces. Actually, this tragic nature of life can always be avoided, for it lies not in the horror itself, as a force destroying something in our life, but in the ability to experience this fact or rather identify it with the fullness of 'higher consciousness'. Whoever places the mark of opportunism over the death of something within himself and peacefully proceeds to the green pastures of Pan-life, eternally smiling, is always ready to open his arms at the price of spiritual values; such a man does not actually live in the tragic current of life, and for him tragedy does not exist as an artistic possibility. That is why we can say that man's fate does not operate within the same dimension as the events of his life, that man's life is shaped according to his inner attitude toward the tragic, and that the tragic is a product of the shape of life. This basic psychic tendency, horror's opalescent spell, is the reason why the antinomy of the tragic as an artistic buildingblock [antynomja tragizmujako cegty artystycznej] is resolved in the very form of our relationship to horror. Obviously, this is only the ascertainment of the psychological foundation of tragedy. A 84

Observations on Friedrich Nietzsche's The Birth of Tragedy more precise, aesthetic task would consist in examining how the elements of horror change into elements of tragedy through the act of creativity and artistic apprehension. But there is no place for this here. Concerning the other basic difficulty, the hostile relationship of 'thought' ['mysl'] to the tragic, here the matter cannot be resolved, as it was previously, by pointing toward man's basic psychic attitude towards the metaphysical horror of existence. Because the development of 'thought' is something quite dependent on the level of culture, the individual's inclinations, and the structure of society, it can be seen at once that less basic factors are involved here, factors more complicated, in brief sociological factors, depending on the culture in which the artist lives and creates. This explains why tragedy, as a form of art, can depend on the culture amid which it develops. If the basic adversary of tragedy is 'thought' as a process of transforming everything into the comprehensible, human, justified, and just, we must seek an atmosphere in which thought cannot develop. In general, this is the case in an atmosphere of strong and direct faith. But, in reference to what I have said above about myth, not the faith of dogmatism, which rationalizes the act and the subject of belief; nor faith as a form of ethical religion which sees the order of the universe grounded in guilt and merit, in the mechanism of good and evil, and in the utilization of conscience; for these are all faiths permeated with thought. The faith we are concerned with here is mythical faith, whose essence is the transformation of life, the projection of ideals onto (usually past) reality. As I have said above, myth first of all immerses the persons appearing in it and their deeds in a mystical atmosphere, a mysterious necessity. For myth is a shaping of the past, from which the ethical, historical, and emotional present draws its life blood; it is an artistically creative shaping because it corresponds to certain inner longings, and it is religiously dogmatic because it regulates ethics and behaviour in society; and so this past is not a copy of present reality but something qualitatively superior, like the unique prototype of countless reproductions, like the absolute and single necessity to myriads of possibilities. Besides this quality of fatalism, in the broadest sense of the term, every myth in its very nature also possesses a 'superhuman' quality, with events corresponding to it and linked with it, an elevation beyond the level of common human emotional oscillations. Magnifying 85

Malinowski's early writings these events, changing them into the norm of feeling, into one's own attitude toward reality, prevents us from mixing or comparing mythical facts with reality, from placing them on a level of our own lives; it deprives them of the rawness and immediacy of things experienced. Pity, abhorrence, and fear do not overcome man in the presence of mythical events. Relating these cursorily sketched results to the two points mentioned above, we see that these two qualities of myth correspond precisely with the two basic difficulties cited previously. Facts reshaped by the transforming power of myth become purified of direct emotional reactions; they no longer contain nervously felt horror, which, as I have said, certain exceptional people manage to isolate by means of a basic, psychic, 'tragic', means of apprehension, but which here falls away of itself, and not only from the minds of the chosen but from the masses as well, who are entirely subject to the rule of myth. Furthermore, and this is the fundamental point - for overcoming the second difficulty is linked to the overcoming of the first - we see that the events of myth basically withstand the disintegrating action of thought. Thought', which attacks all that is threatening, horrible, and mysterious with pitiless vehemence in order to transform, justify, and thus to control it, first of all does not have a self-preservation instinct motive here, because myth has already deprived the events it relates of all vitality, has placed them in an entirely different perspective, and removed their danger to the individual. A believer will never be stimulated into personal reflections by the events of myth; he will never compare himself or his fate to the divine substance of myth. Moreover, myth not only deprives thought, which destroys the tragic, of the incentives for action, but also simply paralyzes it directly. Thought, which wrestles on its own with the tragic nature of reality, trying to justify the world ethically and aesthetically (artistically or cognitively) — on its own account, through the forces of the individual, internally — this thought cannot develop in an atmosphere of myth because the events of myth can neither be justified nor explained. This is true because in their basic social function they are themselves the explanation, justification, or normalization of what is happening in the world. These have been some general observations which, so to speak, serve to pose the problem. We cannot consider them, or in general any considerations which operate in this region, to be something 86

Observations on Friedrich Nietzsche's The Birth of Tragedy positive, if only because such psychological, introspective assertions can neither be confirmed nor refuted by any proof. These are matters so general and subjective that the only things we can do with them directly is either to agree with them or reject them. Indirectly however, their cognitive value can be demonstrated by the fact that by observing, classifying, and analyzing various rather objective facts from the standpoint of their assertions, we arrive at the formulation of some general principles; we see these facts arranged in clear, far-reaching perspective. Above all, such facts as these would be the various forms of myth and the influence of mythical thinking on creativity; and primarily we would analyze the mythical transformation into absolute fatalism and the sublimation of human suffering. Then we would analyze dramatic art, whose direct artistic elements are the word on one hand, and mimetics on the other, and in general the image of the human body and of groups of people. Here the use of the mask as a mimetic device is interesting, as well as the lack of decorations and, in general, the complete schematization of the scenery in Greek tragedy. The very substance of tragedy obviously stands on the border between artistry and the creativeness of metaphysics (thought); and this relationship should also be elucidated more clearly here. And then, and this would be the main part of an objective study, it would have to be demonstrated that everywhere in tragedy the artist has tried to introduce events which operate in the sphere of myth. Wherever this would be impossible, as in plays written about contemporary matters, the artist would add some mystical depth, a new dimension, in which the chord of essential necessity would develop in his drama. Such mysticism is contained in the plays of Ibsen for example, and in many other contemporary pieces. Psychological necessity, no matter how interestingly presented, will not produce strong theatrical effects at all, and at any rate will provide an entirely different sphere of impressions than does Greek tragedy and tragedies with mystical foundations. Greek myth possesses special qualifications for the tragic because of the complete lack of ethical and philosophical motivations (which, e.g. permeate Indian myth). Fatalism, personified in the figure of the all-powerful Moira, pervades it through and through. This is expressed in Greek tragedy, where, in Oedipus Rex for example, the course of most horrible events rivets our attention, as if by a single stroke, as it develops with inexorable 87

Malinowski's early writings necessity. The impact of this tragedy cannot be explained, as Nietzsche does, 'by the command of the dialectic' disentangling a problem (as if it were a game of chess!). The impact is derived from the facts themselves, from their substance, which reflects within itself the entirety of human misery, distress, and suffering in a crystallized form. The problem does not reside here, but rather in the question, why and how are we able to listen to these things, to submit quietly to these impressions, and not leave thoroughly shattered? Here again 'the dialectic' cannot explain anything to us. The explanation lies first of all in the artists' relationship to the mythical reality, which is before their eyes on the stage, and which imposes a completely different apprehension of affairs on them. This changed attitude is so expressed artistically by the dramatist that it is imposed on us, and in a closer analysis we could show what it consists in, but there is no more space for this here. I would like to add that Nietzsche's definition of the tragic, the essence of tragedy, as the joy at the destruction of the individual and the merging with the Will, means nothing to me even as a symbol of certain psychological matters. On the other hand, I am most fascinated by his treatment of theoretical man in relation to tragedy. However, I do not think that the matters and thoughts which I have tried inadequately to express here quite correspond to the relation of theoretical man to tragedy. Thought, as a tool of metaphysical apprehension and justification, reached considerably farther and is more threatening to tragedy than the optimism of Socrates. And so the problem of 'the Socrates who practises music' actually seems to me to be something very inessential.

88

ON THE PRINCIPLE OF THE ECONOMY OF THOUGHT*

At every level in contemporary science and philosophy, from the boldest, almost poetic, speculations to the most minute labour of the specialist restricted to his narrow field, one can clearly sense a certain current penetrating the work of the human mind. A stubborn war on metaphysics has been declared on all sides, beginning with Nietzsche, as a representative of inspired philosophy and with his abhorrence of jenseits,1 and ending in the laboratories of chemistry and physics. The ranks of metaphysicians are growing increasingly thin even among the so-called exact philosophers. At this time it is difficult to determine which side will be victorious. Furthermore, it sometimes appears doubtful that the war is actually waged against the principles of metaphysics, rather than against the expression 'metaphysics'. Aren't the anti-metaphysicians merely practising the same discipline under a new name?2 The fact is that this war will not remain fruitless; it will raise and purify many problems and ideas. We may dare to say that in the field of the natural sciences this tendency has already achieved many durable results and has eliminated many obsolete errors and prejudices which had persisted under the name of metaphysical speculation. However, in philosophy the question, 'does metaphysics have any right to exist?' is much more basic, complex, and still fermenting. To answer this question, in addition to the general and fundamental considerations, one must also assess critically the facts pertaining to this struggle. It is into this area that we will now proceed by dealing with one of the basic concepts presented by two of the most outstanding representatives of the anti-metaphysical movement. The history of the principle of the economy of thinking is quite short. 'I developed my basic view that the essence of philosophy is •The original in Polish is entitled, 'O zasadzie ekonomii myslenia', PhD dissertation, Jagiellonian University. Jagiellonian University Archives, Sygn. X 1237. 89

Malinowski's early writings the economy of thinking in 1872', says E. Mach.3 In 1876, the study by R. Avenarius, Vhilosophie als Denken der Welt gemdss dem Vrinzip des kleinsten Kraftmasses, made its appearance in Leipzig.4 These are the beginnings of the history of this concept. Similar ideas, expressed by Kirchhoff in 1874,5 found acceptance in the field of the natural sciences. E. Mach continued to develop these views in his subsequent scholarly activity. Avenarius, however, in his work, Kritik der reinen Erfahrung,6 no longer adopts or employs this concept (according to the opinion of Petzoldt) 7 In general, from these two basic formulations of this concept by Mach and Avenarius, we are able to deduce two distinct and differing directions: one psychological and the other connected with scientific methodology and cognitive theory. In the former direction the concept of Avenarius was continued by the contemporary introspective psychologist, H. Cornelius, 8 who made it a fundamental aspect of his system. In the second formulation our principle is adopted by nearly all the methodologists of the natural sciences. The only study of this idea in the Polish language, What is Philosophy? by Prof. M. Straszewski, takes this second direction. 9 If we also mention two studies by J. Petzoldt,10 we will have probably exhausted everything in philosophical literature which is of primary concern to our problem. Since the very history of the question provides little room for considerations and conclusions, for it is still impossible to rise above a polemical and critical standpoint, we will at least try to become clearly aware of the historical foundations upon which this concept has been developed and the historical atmosphere in which it was born. Without placing ourselves in the standpoint of a given author, that is without giving his concepts the same meaning he has given them, without adopting his entire worldview, it is impossible to understand his slightest remark or his most basic thoughts. Particularly, if we are concerned with the accurate understanding and evaluation of a concept newly arisen in his mind, then a precise knowledge of the state of the mind which engendered this concept is indispensible. Here we will have to give separate consideration to two independently developing directions of scholarly investigations: psychology, within which the principle of Avenarius had arisen, and the methodology of the natural sciences together with some historico-critical investigations pertaining to them. It is in this 90

On the principle of economy of thought latter direction that we must seek the factors involved in the origin of Mach's principle. If we want to understand how Avenarius came to express the law that the least effort directs our psychic processes, we must familiarize ourselves with the psychological standpoint taken by our author, that is, with the prevailing views of Herbart's school.11 A knowledge of the relationship of philosophy and cognitive theory to the natural sciences in those times will be helpful in explaining the path followed by Mach in the considerations leading to his principle. However, before proceeding with an analysis of particular facts and views, we must make a few general remarks to establish closer definitions of those concepts which we will subsequently use in our critical analysis. Economy of thinking and least effort are the concepts with whose application we will deal. Let us, therefore, examine more closely the meaning and definitions of these concepts, and let us attempt to conclude from this to which facts, in what context, and under what conditions they may be precisely and faultlessly applied. The concept of least effort can immediately be reduced to a concept of a mathematical minimum; it refers to effort, force, a physical magnitude completely subject to the laws of a mathematical treatment. Is a mathematical maximum or minimum also contained in the concept of economy? The more general meaning of this concept, corresponding to its Greek etymological root, signifies, in general management, the method of administering or directing an organization or organism, whether it be livestock, a social group, or a physical system; we may even speak metaphorically of the economy of vital force in a living organism or of mental force in a psychic organization. In a specific sense we understand by economy not management in general, but good management. Since the worth of management is measured by the magnitude of the objectives achieved in relation to the means used, we may call economy, in the specific sense of this word, namely thrift, a minimum outlay with the same gain, or a maximum gain achieved with the same means; both formulations come to the same thing. In this way economy can also be reduced to the concept of a minimum. Obviously this minimum will have mathematical properties only when it refers to measurable quantities. At any rate, both the concept of least effort and that of economy may be reduced to the concept of a minimum. It should be mentioned that in relation to the mathematical 91

Malinowski's early writings minimum, these concepts only approximate exactness, that is, the concepts need not fulfil all the conditions necessary for a purely mathematical, calculative operation. Moreover the laws in which this concept appears will apply only approximately to reality; nevertheless these concepts will not differ from each other logically, and an approximate minimum must be subject to the same laws as a mathematical minimum. Since it is easiest to carry out reasoning on mathematical works because, in mathematics, we have clear and precise definitions of concepts and an exhaustive presentation of their properties, we will for the sake of convenience turn now to mathematics. Any quantity of homogeneous elements, a set in mathematical terms, may be compared with any other. With such a set of numbers of magnitudes we can already speak of maximum-minimum. However, if we want to present the laws concerning these concepts, we must be given the function, that is, the manner in which the given magnitude depends on the change in the other magnitudes. Should we wish to pass from the concept of a set to the concept of a function, we would express ourselves as follows: we must be given the manner in which the elements of our set correspond with one another, if we substitute the proper values for the variables on which they depend. We could dig up a great many proofs from mathematics to show that any consideration of maximum-minimum becomes fruitful only when it is applied to functions. This is formally proven by the immense development of differential calculus, which pertains only to the maximumminimum of functions and in which nothing can be said about the maximum-minimum of the independent variable. It is sufficient to mention the fact that we cannot say anything about the maximum-minimum of the independent variable. It is sufficient to mention the fact that we cannot say anything about the maximum-minimum of the set except that it occurs. We are not in a position to deduce any further laws or properties. It is only in the maximum-minimum of the function that we are able to develop broad theories showing many interesting properties. Above all we see from this that in order to state any law employing the maximum-minimum concept we must examine a functional connection; a function must be given. After all, this is apparent to a certain extent in less specialized considerations. Let us take an economic example. If we were given an annual budget for some enterprise enumerating the expenditures without specifying for 92

On the principle of economy of thought what purpose they were used, we would have an analogue to a mathematical set. Doubtlessly, among these expenditures there will be a largest and a smallest item, a maximum-minimum. Besides this finding however, we will be unable to state anything further about this budget, nor will we be able to state any law or express any judgement about the value of the management. However, it is quite different if we are told for what purposes the money was used, in other words, if we are given the functional connection between the expenditures and the items purchased. In that case we would have everything we need for a scientific examination of the enterprise. Above all, we are entitled to limit our investigation to the maximum-minimum of the function by the fact that both the concept of greatest effort (sic) and the concept of economy implicitly contain the concept of a function. For, after all, we are concerned here with learning how changes in effort are connected to their results as well as how changes in expenditures are connected to change in what we receive in return. Thus, we see that our principles can be applied wherever a maximum-minimum function is applicable. Now we will try to consider the relation of the principle of maximum-minimum to one of the most general scientific principles, the principle of univocal determinism.12 This principle has long been the basis of the natural sciences and philosophical investigations. Without the assumption that there is no spontaneity in nature, that all factors of every process are exactly and unequivocally determined, we could not seek, formulate, or apply the laws of nature. The fact that the sciences have made it their task to discover these laws, proves that we have made this assumption. Conversely, the fact that the laws of nature can be perceived, formulated and practically applied proves that we have a realistic basis for accepting this assumption. Where this basis is to be sought, that is, whether it is to be regarded as something imposed upon us from the outside, or as something conditioned by the organization of our mind, is a question pertaining to the theoretical-cognitive aspect of the problem.13 We will only indicate here that this hypothesis is indispensable for methodological reasons. That it is indispensable not only to those sciences examining the external world but also to psychology becomes immediately clear if we wish to claim for psychic laws the same precision and certitude as the laws of the natural sciences, that is. if we want to 93

Malinowski's early writings grant practical usefulness to these laws, which, one might say, is the decisive criterion for the worth of strictly scholarly research.14 Let us now return to the concept of a function in order to establish its relation to the law of univocal determinism. All of our scientific investigations pertaining directly to reality employ the singular concept of the function. It can be said that it is the ultimate scientific tool dominating phenomena and facts. For it is precisely the relations between things and their mutual interdependence which yields to our intellectual formulation. Empirical investigations cannot extend beyond these boundaries. And within these boundaries the most general concept, the broadest form, which enables us to grasp every dependence and relation is precisely the function.15 Every function contains a number of arbitrary values, called independent variables. Thus, we see that it does not express some definite, concrete, actual process, but contains a whole group, namely all those which we obtain when we give the independent variables specific values. The fewer of these independent variables there are, the narrower the scope of freedom. When we designate all of the variables in our formula or law, we obtain the real process. On the other hand, the more general our considerations, the broader the range of facts they can encompass, the more variables must exist in them, because any introduction of new facts requires the introduction of new symbols into the formulae, of new notions into the laws. If our concern was to come close to reality where nothing occurs arbitrarily, just like the hypothetical world of scientific theory but in an entirely determined way, while on the other hand, we have an infinite number of heterogeneous elements intertwined with one another, what path should we take? We would have to try to formulate the mutual dependence of the variables and express the dependence using the smallest possible number of independent variables, if possible using only one. Laplace has given us an excellent illustration of this in his famous fictional formula where the only independent variable is time. All of the other manifestations of the universe, not excluding the psychic ones, were to be expressed by the formulae of mechanics, as forms of movement. We know that given an initial configuration, the only independent variable of a mechanical equation is time.16 Today we no longer dream of such a formula, of such a universal law, in concreto. From a philosophical point of view, 94

On the principle of economy of thought Laplace's notion is extremely fertile.17 He himself very emphatically expresses the essential principle of the univocal determinism of the real course of the world. From this point of view, it is also easy to perceive that as far as the actual, real, historical course of the universe is concerned, there is no place for functions.18 But if we examine only one aspect of this universal course, we can apply the concept of function. From all of this let us now draw conclusions pertinent to our subject, more particularly, pertinent to the maximum-minimum. We have seen that the maxima-minima which correspond to the concepts of economy and least effort are the maxima-minima of functions and therefore can be applied only when we can apply the concept of a function. We cannot apply the concept of maxima-minima to a closed sphere in which the law of univocal determinism prevails, because there the concept of the function cannot be applied. The world of physical phenomena and mental states are two such closed spheres of facts.19 It would be vain to seek in them either economy or any tendency toward least effort. Indeed, the notion, so common in naive thinking, of nature as the ideal housewife, achieving her results with the least effort, is totally illusory. We will be more concerned with the world of spiritual phenomena. And here, as I have said, we must acknowledge the law of univocal determinism of processes. Here the function can only be applied to accentuate individual aspects of the processes. If we consider our soul as a whole and if we establish general laws governing the entire psychic world, we will not be able to apply the principle of economy as a basic general law. This observation can be expressed in other words: the concepts of economy and least effort, whose application reaches exactly as far as the concept of the function, cannot have a place in any law governing the entirety of phenomena joined together by the principle of univocal determinism; this will serve us as a foothold in our critical examination of the relevant arguments. We will now examine the study of Avenarius, entitled Vhilosophie als Denken der Welt,20 in which he develops his principle. I have said previously that the basis for the clear understanding of an author is placing one's self in his position. In our case this requires the recreation of the now historical views of Avenarius on psychology. Both from the concepts used by Avenarius (apperception) and from the way in which he treats psychic phenomena, we may presume that he has based his work 95

Malinowski's early writings on the psychological system created by the school of Herbart. This assumption is best confirmed by the fact that the author refers several times to Steinthal's work, Abriss der Sprachwissenschaft, and quotes the definition of apperception from this work.21 Therefore, whenever I needed to find a closer definition of unclearly formulated psychological facts, the genesis of a means of perception, conclusions from the manner of treatment, or the presentation of mental phenomena, I turned to Steinthal and through him to Herbart.22 First of all we must devote a few words to the essence of Avenarius' study. In whatever manner we might define the connection between the mind and the body, the functions of the mind are so important to the preservation of the individual that we must assume that they are well suited to this task, that is, that they are expedient (zweckmdssig). Expedience is defined by two conditions: ability to accomplish a given task, and accomplishing it according to the principle of least effort. We will examine only the theoretical functions of the mind, i.e. the processes of apperception, and seek our principle in them. Here the author presents a few examples in which the mind reacts by means of negative emotions because it has been forced into an aimless expenditure of energy, either in a senseless grouping of images, in a contradiction, or in uncertainty. On the other hand, in the creation of systems and in our customary apperceptions (Gewohnheitsapp) we use energy with frugality. Every idea to which we are not accustomed causes a negative emotion. We can remove this emotion either by forgetting the unusual idea or by apperceiving it with familiar ideas. Thus; we see that the source of the apperception lies in the principle of least effort. This principle also directs the process of the apperception; we see it in the economy of the apperceiving masses.23 We also see it in the determination (Determinierung) of the apperceiving masses in linguistic development. Besides influencing the mechanism of apperception, the principle is also manifested in what we are given by apperception (Leistung der Apperception). We know that the concern here is with relieving our soul by eliminating an unknown, and thus a disquieting and arduous, notion. However, if, besides this relief, we are able to experience some durable effect, such an apperception will be more perfect in its action by better corresponding to the principle of least effort, for with the same expenditure we 96

On the principle of economy of thought have achieved a greater gain; the effect of this is comprehension (Begreifen), which is the most perfect operation of apperception from the standpoint of the principle of least effort. Therefore, all fields of knowledge aiming at comprehension are the product of our principle. Philosophy, which has set as its task the comprehension of the world in the form of supreme unity, has its source in the principle of least effort. The further sections of Avenarius' study, in which the author deals with the more precise definition of the method and formulation of philosophy, are beyond the scope of our present interests. Therefore we will now critically examine what we have thus far cited. To carry out a methodical critique of any kind of views, three basic elements must be taken into consideration. First of all we must realize from what standpoint the given reasoning is made, that is, on what assumptions and postulates it is based. The second element, independent of the first, consists in going through the reasoning; in this the rules of formal logic should be the only guidelines. Finally, the third point of departure for the critique should be the conclusions which the author reaches through his reasoning based on the assumptions he has adopted. A good critique should examine all three of these aspects of the reasoning. Let us, therefore, now turn to the first point of departure of our study. In reaching the assertion that our mind is an organization corresponding to its purpose, we assume that its functions are indispensable to the preservation of the individual. If this is to place our principle on a solid biological foundation, the following objection can be raised: here the soul's functions are directly coordinated, on a par with the other functions of our organism, and, in view of the fact that we have granted purposefulness to these other functions, we must also grant it to the psychic functions of our organism. It is clear that we may call the physiological functions of the eye, ear, and hands purposeful and give this expression a clearly defined meaning. We may and must grant such purposefulness to the functions of the brain. However, when we pass from this, the physiologically defined functions of the brain, to the way in which we feel these functions from within, subjectively, that is, to mental processes, and grant these latter processes purposefulness, we make a logical leap. Above all, it is clear, as I have said, that a physically defined function of an organism cannot be placed on a par in other 97

Malinowski's early writings aspects with the feelings generated by that function. These feelings are neither physically defined nor linked with other physiological processes through a causal or functional connection. Secondly, the role we ascribe to the functions of the organism is defined within rather narrow limits; it cannot be transferred so casually into an entirely new sphere of phenomena where the conditions and elements we had used in our determination of purposefulness may well be non-existent.24 However, this point does not play a fundamental role in Avenarius' reasoning; he is concerned with demonstrating purposefulness in the theoretical processes of our mind. Biological considerations may serve him in the role of general orientation, but the central weight of his reasoning must lie in the psychological argumentation. Since purposefulness consists in solving tasks by means of the least effort, we must define more precisely what it is we mean by a task and an effort in theoretical thinking. Avenarius answers the first question by stating that the general, theoretical task of the mind is apperception, and he defines effort as the expenditure of physiological strength accompanying the psychological process. These two assumptions form the fundamental point of departure for Avenarius* psychological considerations. Therefore let us examine them more closely. They are connected to the general picture of psychic phenomena which the author employs. In fact this image is based on Herbart's mechanics of ideas. The idea here is the elementary psychological product, the mental atom. 'We will call any conceptual factor an idea, as long as it is the object of a psychological investigation'.25 Our entire world of mental phenomena arise out of these three elementary processes: union (Verbindung), fusion (Verschmelzung), and association. Consciousness is a characteristic of ideas to which we ascribe substantive existence even when the ideas are unconscious. Mechanical interactions between ideas extend to both conscious and unconscious ideas. Complex processes composed of elementary ones, whose aim is the definition of less known masses of ideas by means of better known ones is what we call apperception. 'Alles Kennenlernen wie alles Wiedererkennen ist Apperception . . . Eine Apperception ist sowohl die wirkliche, erstmalige Schopfung einer Anschauung oder eines Begriffes, oder die Gewinnung eines Gedankensf als auchjede Wiederholung, Erinnerung derselben. In Apperceptionen bewegt sich also unser 98

On the principle of economy of thought ganzes theoretisches Leben.'26 Here we thus have to deal with two interpenetrating masses of ideas. The mechanism of this interpenetration and mutual influence is defined by elementary processes. I am not concerned here with an exhaustive presentation of Steinthal's views on apperception upon which Avenarius bases his theory, and which are, as a matter of fact, the views of the Herbart school. I wanted to raise only two points: first of all that a mechanistic understanding of the play of ideas leads to a reification of the forces acting among them, to ascribing to them the properties of physical forces. Going further we may thus try to discover the economy of these very forces. Secondly, Herbart's psychology grew from a metaphysical foundation, so that whoever consistently accepts this psychology cannot avoid tacitly accepting its metaphysical assumptions. Indeed the atomistics and mechanics of ideas and the acceptance of their unconscious existence in the mind are ways of treating psychic phenomena which are entirely inadmissible to an experimental psychologist, in the present meaning of the term, who examines mental states as they appear directly to us. Such a mechanistic understanding of apperception is the psychological foundation on which Avenarius bases his reasoning. Let us now look more closely at his arguments. From the beginning Avenarius mentions facts in which certain ideas presenting themselves in a certain way force our mind into a purposeless effort, senselessly arranging ideas which are contradictory and uncertain. The unaccustomed ideas (Ungewohntes) also belong in this category. On the basis of the principle of least effort which acts in it the mind tries to remove the uncertain idea either imperfectly, by forgetting it, or perfectly, by apperceiving it. Thus, the very process of apperception is the result of the working of our principle. Let us now stop for a moment to analyze the origin of ideas in our mind. We have seen that in order to start the process of apperception, an idea requiring excessive effort must appear in our mind, thus violating our basic principle. In order to avoid contradiction, the simple consequence that must be drawn from this is that the origin of such ideas in our mind is not the action of the mind alone, but the joint action of extraneous elements. Indeed, in the psychological picture of Herbart's theory, ideas are reactions, acts of self-preservation by our mind in the face of the 99

Malinowski's early writings realities (das Reale) acting upon it. Thus, the origin of ideas is something that somehow exceeds the scope of purely mental processes. Indirectly, we can already see the influence of Herbart's metaphysics on Avenarius' reasoning. For, after all, any psychology aiming at an empirical explanation of the phenomena subject to our introspection, must also extend its range of purely psychic phenomena to include the origin, whether it be a production or a reproduction, of ideas and must explain these phenomena without introducing extraneous, non-psychic elements. Therefore, our author would have also been forced to explain how it could come to pass that there exists a category of phenomena in our mind, that is, how the appearance of ideas starts the process of apperception but is not subject to the general psychological law. However, as we have seen, Herbart's metaphysics has removed this difficulty. Therefore we have the right to assume that our author had fallen under its influence. We have seen that Avenarius has deduced the very fact of apperception from the principle of least effort, while the other ideas were not subject to this principle. Let us now examine how he ascertains the working of the very same principle in the mechanism of apperception itself. We know that what is involved here is the motion27 of masses of ideas, or groups of ideas, which are closely connected to one another. The arising, passive group that is to be apperceived is defined by the very fact that it arises and begins the process of apperception. On the other hand, the apperceiving group is not defined by the mere fact of appearing in the consciousness like the other. It is denned only by its purpose: the apperception of an unknown idea or ideas. Here Avenarius asserts that our principle is actually manifested in the economy of the apperceiving masses: the mind employs only as many ideas as are absolutely necessary and sufficient to apperceive the unknown. Thus, our principle appears here as the economy of the apperceiving masses. Our principle also appears in the effectiveness (Leistung) of apperception. We have seen that the author has deduced the very fact of apperception from the striving of our mind to remove unaccustomed ideas, that is, from the principle of least effort. The more effectively this uncertainty is removed, the more perfect are the workings of our apperception. The most effective method of achieving this is apprehension; in apprehension the apperceiving 100

On the principle of economy of thought idea is a general concept. Here, as we perceive the given unknown idea through the general concept, we also enrich its contents. 'Durch diese Inhaltsvermehrung, welche die aufzufassende Vorstellung - ohne Vermehrung des Kraftaufwandes - durch den allgemeinen Be griff erfahrt, drilckt das Begreifen vorwiegend das theoretische Verhalten der Seele aus: es ist so zu sagen die theoretische Apperception par excellence' ,28 In addition, comprehension is characterized by greater durability, and thus for these two reasons it best fits the principle of the economy of thinking. If there are certain sciences which tend to comprehend phenomena (as opposed to describing them), these sciences will have their source in the principle of least effort. Since such sciences do exist, and the most elevated of these, aspiring to the most general conceptual mastery of the world, is philosophy, the principle of least effort is thus the source of philosophy. We have gone over Avenarius' entire argument and have reached his conclusions. Let us still glance at the last few sections of his argument which we have not yet analyzed, first of all at the economy of the apperceiving masses. Here the same critical argument applies which we had introduced at the beginning, namely the dilemma: either the psychic processes are not univocally determined, in which case we cannot speak of any laws, or, if they are so determined, then in the most general theoretical process, the process of apperception, we cannot speak of a maximumminimum. Each process is determined by the conditions under which it takes place, and if it were to take place under other conditions, it would be a different process. If we were to assume that the conditions were the same, we would be left with the same process, and again there would be no place for a maximumminimum. As for the second point, namely the working of our principle in the perfection of the results of apperception, here too our critical argument applies; for either the old and new ideas work together in a specifically determined manner to produce a concept - in which case it would be nonsensical to speak of economy, just as it is nonsensical to speak of economy when referring to a parallelogram of forces in physics - or the manner in which the old and new ideas combine is not specifically determined, in which case they would not be subject to scientific laws. Let us now pass on to the conclusions which Avenarius has 101

Malinowski's early writings drawn from his argument: the principle of least effort is best suited for a philosophical world view. However, it is a general psychological principle. It operates in every man, at every moment, in relation to all psychic phenomena. Drawing a simple conclusion from this, we see that each man at every moment would have the most philosophical viewpoint possible in accordance with his psychic organization and the knowledge he has obtained. However, since that which constitutes the essence of the philosophical viewpoint does not depend on these two latter factors, but only on the first general one, that is, on the working of the principle of least effort, we see, therefore, that the world views of all people at every moment of their lives are equally philosophical. This statement, which we have deduced from Avenarius' results without making any additions or jumps of logic, and which is, eo ipso, as powerful as the statements explicitly drawn by the author, is either paradoxical or leads us absolutely nowhere. It is paradoxical insofar as we would like to ascribe to the philosophical worldview any characteristics which would distinguish it from other views, for it turns out that there are no other world views with which to compare it. And the statement is totally void of content if the philosophical worldview is only an expression for the condition which, in view of the psychological laws, must develop in the mind of each person. Thus, we see that the conclusions reached by our author in no way satisfy us. We have critically examined three elements: the point of departure, which contained the basic assumptions of apperceptive psychology; the reasoning, which drew conclusions from these assumptions and was based on the apperceptive picture of mental phenomena; and, in the end, the final results achieved by the author. The first two points could not withstand criticism, for contemporary scholarship considers this psychological point of view to be entirely disproven. For this reason also the results of his arguments could not satisfy us. However, it is a fact that the criticism dealing with the actual value of these three factors does not completely exhaust the evaluation of the concept which the author meant to develop. Even in the so-called 'exact' sciences, we often see that laws consistent with experience, which therefore possess an objective value, have been deduced from entirely erroneous hypotheses. The most brilliant mathematical concepts were often formulated in a manner not consistent with the preci102

On the principle of economy of thought sion and faultlessness required by this science. The reason for this is that, in scholarly research, intuition plays a no less important, and doubtless more creative, role than logical analysis. Criticism must always be careful not to throw away the wheat with the chaff, nor pick holes in the reasoning where the basic value of the concept is concerned. Later, we will see that we can and must grant an analogous principle in psychology, although we will neither give it the same scope or formulate it in the same manner as did Avenarius. Attempts at correcting and complementing Avenarius' concept, in addition to criticism of it, were made by Petzoldt. He felt the insufficiency of the principle of least effort, or rather the faults in the deduction of this principle and in Avenarius' method of presenting it. The aim of his two articles is to reduce our principle to a more general and more basic law. It is the law of the tendency toward stability (Tendenz zur Stabilitdt), which our author has found already expressed by Fechner and Zeller.29 The results of Petzoldt's general arguments concerning the concept of economy and its applicability are in no way contradictory to the conclusions we have reached in our previous considerations. However, he has reached his conclusions by another path. The first chapter of his study, Maxima-minima und Oekonomie, is devoted to an analysis of certain principles of mechanics, like those of Euler, Hamilton, and Maupertuis,30 in which, it would seem at first glance, a certain economy occurring in physical phenomena is expressed. After a closer analysis of the principle of the parallelogram of forces, the fundamentals of differential calculus, etc., the author reaches the conclusion that the inclination to find any maximum or minimum in physical phenomena has no positive foundation. Whenever we speak of a minimum, it refers to an analytical expression and not to a physical magnitude: the minimum has no place in nature, only in formulae. The fact that such maxima-minima occur so often can be explained by the observation that such values of a function express a certain peculiarity, a certain special set of conditions, and we always desire to express such a situation in the laws of nature. In the second chapter our author argues that the law of economy can only be understood by introducing the concept of development. We can only comprehend the economic function of a system as a stage in the system's evolution. In fact, this agrees with what we have said about the applicability of the concept of 103

Malinowski's early writings a minimum, because every system may be considered a function of time and circumstance, under the influence of which it changes. However, it is clear that this is an insufficiently general definition for the conditions of applicability of our concept. Since, according to Petzoldt the law which produces evolution is the law of the tendency toward durable states, and since this law also defines the extent to which the system functions according to its purpose, this law is the basis for the principle of economy and can be entirely reduced to it. The final conclusion reached by the author is, as we remember, that the principle of economy of least effort, must be supplemented, strengthened by the principle of the tendency toward stable conditions. It is this principle that expresses something of extreme interest to us in both physical and mental processes. (Although it goes beyond our considerations, it is worthwhile to devote a few words to Petzoldt's principle. He deduces it from physical arguments. Every system tends toward a stable state, as, for example, a system of two, three, etc. bodies left to gravitation. On the basis of the principle of entropy this can be extended to any isolated physical system. But it applies only to an isolated system and not to any other. But isolated systems are merely fictional scientific structures designed to investigate reality. What cognitive value can a law have for us when it only applies to instruments of scientific research, inferred from those very aspects in which they differ from reality?) Abstracting from the guiding thoughts of our author, we see that his reasoning is absolutely correct; however, insofar as it applies to the principle of economy, it can be replaced with simpler, more basic reasoning. At this point we will pass on to the second method of formulating our principle, to Mach's principle of the economy of thinking. Here we must move into an entirely new area of human thought, the border between scientific methodology and cognitive theory. In the first of these disciplines there is probably no more basic question than this: What is the goal, destiny, and task of science? What does knowledge offer us? What does science offer us? Many answers to this question present themselves to us depending on the point of view that we assume. We can ask what its meaning is for the individual, for society, what is the practical need for science, or, perhaps whether science satisfies other, mental needs which cannot be reduced to practical ones. Depending on the point of departure, the answers also change in accordance with 104

On the principle of economy of thought the development of respective sciences and of philosophical world views. We see a tremendous revolution from the time in which the substance and methods of science were surrounded by a mystic halo until the present when we are inclined to ascribe to scientific origin only practical reasons and causes. Mach is one of those who contributed greatly to the modern solution to this problem. On the other hand, his system arose and grew in the field of natural sciences at a time when a fundamental revolution was taking place in those sciences and in their relationship to philosophy. We here refer namely to the bankruptcy of materialism. There is a further historical presentation of this fact in Lange's book, Geschichte des Materialismus,11 which, incidentally, contributed considerably to this bankruptcy. Materialism was based on a mechanistic world view. In accordance with Kant's theory of knowledge, the materialist accepted the existence of the thing in itself which was taken to be the movement of actually existing atoms and phenomena arising through the action of this movement on our senses. We were supposed to sense this action as a purely subjective feeling. In addition, the materialists asserted that our states of consciousness are functions, or rather secretions, of matter. Research based on these assumptions resulted in the bankruptcy of knowledge, as exemplified by Dubois-Reymond's resignation of any hope of cognition.32 F. A. Lange very correctly demonstrates that the limits to our knowledge of nature are not narrower than the limits placed upon our cognition in general, that the mistake of materialism consists in its accepting matter as directly given and our feelings as derivative, while in reality it is the other way around. This observation of Lange's may be said to be fundamental to all of the new philosophy on this question. We also see its influence on Mach. We should also mention a number of definitions of science put forward at that time by certain specialists. These definitions express an entirely different standpoint on this question. Thus, the mathematician Grassman defines science as 'Anpassung der Gedanken an das Seiend und aneinander'.33 Kirchhof defines the task of science (in his case, especially mechanics) as: \ . . die in der Natur vor sich gehenden Bewegungen vollstdndig und aufdie einfachste Weise zu beschreiben',34 On the other hand we must take into consideration the fact that Mach was developing his ideas at precisely the same time when the biological sciences, having just been launched onto a 105

Malinowski's early writings new track by the research of Darwin, were bound to exert a great influence on scholarly minds. In Mach's entire manner of treating his subject we will perceive a predominantly biological conception of the world. Darwin's fundamental concepts of the theory of descent, the struggle for survival, adaptation, and evolution in general all play an important role in Mach's reasoning. Let us now pass on to a review of what Mach himself says about his principle. In order to do this we must draw material from his two main works, Die Mechanik in ihrer Entwicklung and Die Vrincipien der Warmelehre?5 We will also take into consideration what he has said about our principle in his lecture, 'Die okonomische Natur der physikalischen Forschung'.36 It is a characteristic fact which is worthwhile to mention that Mach says nothing about this principle in his last work, even though he returns there to nearly all of his ideas and statements which appeared in his previous scholarly work. We will try to formulate Mach's argument concerning our principle into an entity which is, at least to some extent, uniform. Man aims at self-preservation. All functions of the organism, including thinking, remembering, and imagining, serve to place the individual in the most favourable position possible in relation to the environment. Our mind accomplishes this by a reflection of reality that is as accurate as possible, by adapting our ideas to facts. In this manner we can easily extrapolate the conclusions of events in our mind and spare ourselves further (undesirable) experiences. 'When [primitive man] hears a noise in the underbrush he constructs there, just as the animal does, the enemy which he fears; when he sees a certain rind he forms mentally the image of the fruit which he is in search of; just as we mentally associate a certain kind of matter with a certain line in the spectrum or an electric spark with the friction of a piece of glass'.37 This is the foundation on which science grows. However its beginnings develop only in society, especially in crafts, from the need to share experiences with one another. Only then does a special class engaged in scientific investigation develop, which fulfils in society the same role which theoretical thinking fulfils for the individual struggling for his survival. Only in such a class is a general interest in facts possible, for the primitive individual chooses only immediately useful or strikingly wonderful facts. The situation offered by society also makes possible the utiliza106

On the principle of economy of thought tion of other people's experience by a new worker, which is made possible through communication with the help of speech. 'Communication is basically a prescription for recreating facts in one's thoughts'. 38 The broader the range of experience we come to know through communication, the more sparingly, more economically it is necessary to use the means of description and presentation, in order to master the material with a small expenditure of memory and effort. Thus, scientific methods are economical. Such economic treatment of phenomena is possible because in things and events there are certain constant factors. Therefore we must pare our facts and events down until they are as simple and as few as possible and arrange them into a lucid form. We will consider a given sphere scientifically mastered if 'everywhere in the variety of phenomena we perceive the same facts'.39 'A scientific methodical presentation of a sphere of facts, in comparison to an accidental, disorderly treatment of it, possesses the advantage of a parsimonious, economical use of mental forces'. However, here we refer only to the character of the scientific methods, and not to the manner of utilizing the acquired knowledge. Mach enlarges upon the concept of economy in his Principles of the Theory of Heat.40 This concept cannot be directly applied to processes in nature. In nature only that which does occur can occur, and in only one way. In this sense we cannot speak about economy because there is never a choice between the actual course of events and some other. It is a different matter when we take some purpose under consideration, as in technology, ergo physics. A specific steam engine, under given conditions, can function in only one way. However, it will serve its purpose better the more exactly it adheres to Carnot's reversible rotary process. Among various engines the most economical will be the one which approaches this ideal most closely. Therefore, what is involved here is not an absolute appraisal of a definite phenomenon, but a relative comparison of various phenomena in regard to some purpose, in other words, it is not a question of what happens, but of what should happen. Science presents an analogous case. If, in expanding our experiences a proper adaptation of thought could be achieved in one possible, most accurate way, just as the forces existing in a physical phenomenon can work only in a definite way, we could not speak of economy. However, various people, contemporaneously, or one after another, will accomplish this adaptation in most varied ways. One will overlook this, another something else. Often a century is needed to replace false paths 107

Malinowski's early writings with true ones. All of these scientific endeavours can be compared with each other like steam engines so that we may judge which one is the most economical. Economy gives us an excellent vantage point from which we can guide our scientific research, and which will give us a greater advantage than we would receive by unwittingly yielding to ephemeral mental forces. And that is why I too have taken this point of view. Spiritual work can be wasted (in regard to a specified purpose) just like the heat in a steam engine can be lost for the work at hand.

Here we can clearly see the influence of the two factors we have mentioned above: a new way of treating the purposes and tasks of scientific investigations and emphasis on the biological aspect in examining mental life and its manifestations. Both of these influences complement each other and act conjointly. When one way is barred to the human mind, it turns more quickly to the place where new horizons are opening. Since the older, dogmatic justification of the purpose of science had been critically demolished, new thinkers tackling this problem had to search for new sources. All minds were fascinated by Darwin's theory. In the very formulation of the problem we have a clear trace of Darwin's influence on Mach's train of thought. Man is conceived as an organism struggling with nature and with other individuals. All of the functions of this organism can be conceived teleologically as the tools best suited to this struggle. The next step leads us to coordinate our thought, imagination, and memory with these other functions. However, here we must repeat the observation which we have made, in the appropriate place, concerning Avenarius. It is precisely from the point of view assumed by Mach that we may not consider the subjective experiences of the individual as biological factors; we may not even place them on the same level with these activities insofar as the exclusively logical functioning of the organism is concerned. Adaptation (Anpassung) is a concept which also passes from Darwinism to Mach's cognitive theory. . . . die Gedanken insbesondere die naturwissenschaftlichen, unterliegen in dhnlicher Weise der Umbildung und Anpassung, wie dies Darwin fiir die Organismen annimmt.41

It is here, however, that we come across a flaw somewhat offensive to us, a simple inference from the domain of biology to psychology. 'Gedanken sind Ausserungen des organischen 108

On the principle of economy of thought Lebens'.42 In accordance with our previous observation, we would have to disagree with this statement; and that is why we may not transfer Darwin's principles to this domain in any other way but figuratively. The most we can do here is to make an analogy capable of stimulating us and leading us on to new discoveries. From this point of view we will agree with Mach's statement: 'Wir sehen wissenschaftliche Gedanken sich umformen, auf weitere Gebiete sich ausbreiten, mit konkurrierenden kdmpfen, und uber weniger leistungsfdhige den Sieg davon tragen'.41 Here we may observe that Mach's concept of adaptation, although it originates from an entirely different understanding of psychological phenomena, corresponds to some extent to the concepts of apperception on which Avenarius had based his principle. Here, to some extent, we have a point of contact between these two views, although, even here, they are by no means identical. Let us now pass on to the very object of our investigations, an analysis of how Mach deduces the principle of the economy of thinking from the picture, which he had created for himself, of scientific and other phenomena of the human mind. First of all we must point out that in the above quotation the author clearly indicates that in physical phenomena one cannot, without further assumption, speak of an economy or, in general, about a maximum-minimum. In his terms, the condition for applying this concept is the introduction of purpose to the phenomena under investigation, that is, a teleological formulation of this group of phenomena. As a matter of fact, this agrees with our initial, general reasoning. In teleologically formulating phenomena we eo ipso emphasize one of their aspects by taking only some of their factors into consideration. This also makes possible the introduction of function, which we have acknowledged as a necessary and sufficient condition. But the concept of function is broader than that of purpose; the latter is, in my opinion, a sufficient condition for speaking of a maximum-minimum, but it is not a necessary one. Therefore, we may consider our formulation more general and less endangered by the anthropomorphism which the concept of purpose always suggests. Basically, however, we cannot charge Mach with the same objection we made against Avenarius, that he runs a collision course with the law of univocal determinism. Let us now examine how Mach fills in the two aspects of this process. Where, in his formulation, is the expenditure and where is the gain? According to Mach, the expenditure is our 'psychic 109

Malinowski's early writings work'. If we should wish to correct this somewhat inadequate manner of expression, we could say: the expenditure of physiological energy concurrent with the work of our brain. This aspect of the process is quite clear and is neither offensive nor contradictory. Here we are dealing with a change in a magnitude which is, at least, fundamentally measurable; therefore we can ascertain its minimum without risk of reproach. The other aspect of the problem presents more difficulties. The gain which we obtain through our mental work is the results of our research, the adaptation of our thoughts to facts, scientific laws. At this point a strict definition of the manner in which we can evaluate and measure the value of these laws is indispensable. Yet, we cannot deduce a clear answer to this question from his writings. Therefore, we must stop for a moment to explain the essence of these scientific laws to ourselves. Let us first turn to what Mach says about this: he defines the process we are here concerned with as a process of adaptation (Anpassungsprozess). However, we may consider this definition to be more of a figurative metaphor than a strict empirical designation. Our thoughts are not made of plastic and reality is not a form which can be stamped onto them. Mach does not give the psychological definition of the process of adaptation. Meanwhile, the question appears in the form of a dilemma: must we define the value of scientific laws psychologically, or may they be conceived as something existing objectively to which entirely objective criteria may be applied? Generally, it is the first alternative which is accepted. T o speak, therefore, of the universal validity of a law of nature has only meaning in so far as we refer to a certain type of perceptive faculty, namely, that of a normal human being'.44 Therefore, in order to define the validity of a law, there must be a measure. Such a measure is 'a normal human being', a normally functioning human mind, a typical or collective intellect. Actually, if we limit ourselves to considering an individual mind, the results would have no value. What is of concern to us is science taken socially, as a phenomenon of collective life, not as a facet in the development of an individual mind. Psychological considerations with the aim of answering our question on the basis of the subjective individual's relation to scientific laws are thus excluded by definition. Not to mention the fact that if we were to continue on this path we would come to exactly the same standpoint which we have previously attacked 110

On the principle of economy of thought as Avenarius' point of departure. Therefore, let us return to that universal measure, in which role a normal intellect is to serve us. To me, even this assumption seems superfluous. I will not expound on the arbitrariness of such a choice. Here the objection could be raised: what will we regard as the criterion for normality? Will it be conformity with the majority of human intellects? But it is precisely to this majority that scientific laws are inaccessible. Furthermore, if assuming the existence of the egos of others is in many cases an indispensable hypothesis, then assuming the hypothetical existence of some universal or objective mind deprived of individual traits, the lack of which would immediately make it abnormal, contains many far-fetched and non-empirical elements.45 I believe that scientific laws can be defined perfectly without employing any psychological data in a manner totally equivalent to any definition of a physical value. We will precede the justification of the last statement with a figurative presentation of the subject. If a technician or artisan wishes to express his opinion about the value of an engine or tool, must he resort to any psychological data? Must he analyze the psychological origin of the invention submitted to him or seek the help of some normal human mind who knows the workings of this engine? Of course not. Such psychological considerations are indispensable when the concern is the evaluation of a work of art, but not when the concern is the evaluation of a tool serving a practical purpose. In the latter case we have the same objective data at hand as we have any time we make a judgement on the physical world. With equal objectivity the physicist can present the efficiency (labour effectiveness) of a mountain waterfall and that of any working engine which is the product of human hands. We may ask here whether it is necessary for us to know how it functions in order to evaluate the tool submitted to us, and whether this explanation is not the included psychic factor? Undoubtedly the engine will not work if it is not assembled and operated properly. But we must regard all of this as a set of physical conditions, just like those which must occur in order for any physical phenomenon to take place. Indeed, each of our experiments consists in assembling certain elements of nature, setting them in motion, and directing them. In both cases we must postulate not only our consciousness, but also our activity. Our ability to evaluate is objective in the former as well as in the latter case. Let 111

Malinowski's early writings us now set forth the scientific law, by means of a mathematical formula, as a tool serving to master nature. If we wish to define or evaluate the working of a tool, we must adapt it to the individual conditions, begin its operation in a certain manner, and the effect is fully defined physically. If we wish to evaluate a mathematical formula, we must also adapt it to the individual conditions and substitute particular values into it; we can compare the result obtained mathematically with reality and thus define it completely. Let us illustrate this with an example. Let us suppose that we have a formula expressing the degree of sag in a beam under the impact of weight; on the other hand we have a manometer indicating the steam pressure of a boiler. Isn't the action of these two tools quite analogous, particularly due to their physical definiteness? That is, isn't the actual process of the beam sagging just as objective a measure of our formula, as the process of steam pressure building up in the boiler (observable, we assume, in some other way) is an objective measure of the operation of our manometer? That which we had wanted to justify in this digression can be formulated as follows: the value of scientific laws is objective in the sense that for its recognition we do not need to refer to a typical, normal individual, or to a plebiscite of mankind. Even if only one normal man remained on the earth, and all others had lost the ability to make judgements which we would consider normal and logical, that one man would not need to doubt the value of the material and scientific conquests of mankind. For he would not need to resort to psychological arguments to convince himself and others. The tremendous practical importance of the former and the latter instruments would enable him to completely annihilate his adversaries. The attitude of the white man to his less civilized, coloured fellow men illustrates this point sadly and significantly. Let us return now to the principle of economy and apply the results of our reasoning, concerning the definition of scientific laws, directly to Mach's principle. We have seen above that one aspect of this process in which economy is to be manifested, namely the expenditure, is denned in completely physical terms as the expenditure of physical energy from our organism. We can now answer the question we posed at that time of whether, and if so, how, we may regard the second aspect of the process as physically denned. This second aspect, which we may call gain, is called by Mach the process of adapting our thoughts to facts. The 112

On the principle of economy of thought point of departure of this process, the given group of facts - for example, a definite range of physical, biological, or social phenomena - is defined in totally physical terms. Our previous reasoning was aimed at demonstrating that the end point of this process, scientific law, is defined without the help of any subjective, psychological data. If we treat science from the standpoint of its practical, as it were biological, significance to the individual, and not from a theoretical-comparative standpoint, we are able to assume the physical definition of its laws. From this standpoint also the principle of economy of thinking is absolutely suited to express the role played by the functions of the human brain in relation to its mastery of the outside world. In Mach these assumptions are not so distinctly indicated, and this standpoint is not emphasized, even though it is the only standpoint from which this principle can be sustained. This means that we cannot treat economy as a law which rules absolutely in our mind. Instead, we must first establish for what purpose and in relation to what we assume these processes. This point is emphasized in the study by Professor Straszewski,46 where the psychic processes are taken to be simple and economic because of the great complexity and diversity of the external changeability to which our organism is subject. In conclusion let us once more look back over the road we have just traversed. First of all we have dealt with the general qualities of the concept of economy and the limits to its applicability. In essence this concept is the same as the minimum of a function. Since it is a particular value of a function, it can be used to characterize certain special circumstances in a given group of phenomena. However, we cannot assume that economy is a universal quality of a self-enclosed group of phenomena, for example, all physical or all mental phenomena, for to such a group the concept of a function cannot be applied. Therefore it can be foreseen a priori that the principle of least effort introduced by Avenarius as a fundamental psychological principle will not prove to be faultless. Under closer examination we have tried to demonstrate from what assumptions this principle was deduced and in what picture of mental phenomena it was perceived. We reached the conclusion that both the assumptions and the manner in which it was perceived do not fit the requirements of today's science and that the contradictory conclusions can be explained precisely on the basis of these inferences. Next, 113

Malinowski's early writings we mentioned the factors which contributed to the rise of the principle of the economy of thinking on a narrower, methodical scale. With Mach this principle has much more empirical significance, and, if we take into account a few minor restrictions, it can be sustained. But in this case it is no longer a psychological principle; it does not explain the purpose and the phenomena of science by means of laws of psychological processes, but rather by means of purely biological data. Similarly, in the study by Professor Straszewski, we find a purely biological justification of this law. On the other hand, when we deal with a psychological treatment of this principle, as in Cornelius, for example, it does not express any economy, nor any functional minimum. Cornelius calls it Einheitsprinzip [unity principle], and for him this term expresses only an empirically defined process found among the states of our consciousness, namely, as he says, a tendency to be subsumed under one symbol. We will not expound here on the further development of our principle; the task we had set before ourselves was to examine the manners of formulating this principle by its two initiators. Therefore we have tried to justify historically the reasons for its origins, to establish critically its proper limits, and to point out its weaknesses. Here, we may make one more observation about the influence of our principle on the tendencies of contemporary philosophy. It leads to a demand for a monistic world view as its most straightforward consequence. Hence, in his Prolegomena,47 Avenarius regards this system as appropriate to its purpose, which is to fulfil the conditions of monism. He also endeavours to make his system monistic. This tendency prevails in the entire empirio-critical school: Mach, Cornelius, and Petzoldt all consider it a point of scientific honour that there not be the slightest dualistic flaw in their manner of referring to facts. The existence of the principle of the economy of thinking as a basic means of conceiving every form of human mental endeavour explains this tendency to a certain extent. We have no reason to be prejudiced in referring to this or to any other trend in cognitive theory. But the absolutism, the dogmatism, one could say, with which monism is presently used as a touchstone for every system, view, or principle, can be surprising and lead one to seek historical reasons for such a situation. Without doubt, one of these reasons is our principle. With regard to the question with which we started our investigation, namely what will this principle tell us about the problem 114

On the principle of economy of thought of the metaphysical or antimetaphysical treatment of philosophy, we can deduce the following observations. The authors were interested in establishing an empirical basis for philosophical investigations and a non-metaphysical definition of the essence and purpose of scholarly research. If we assume that Avenarius's principle is only a postulate, a metaphysical principle, our criticism, which pertains solely to the empirical method of research, would lose all validity. However, as an empirical principle, as we have already seen, it cannot be maintained. Therefore, we can consider Avenarius's endeavours pointless. However, this in no way prejudices the question of whether metaphysical methods can be applied to philosophy. However, for the time being, taking these results into account, it is a fact that we do not yet have an empirical basis for a philosophical worldview.

115

RELIGION AND MAGIC: THE GOLDEN BOUGH (1910)*

(1) Frazer's Definition. He proceeds from the definition of magic. It is a worldview approximating the scientific, for it postulates order and uniformity in nature, mainly in the form of two fundamental principles: uniformity and contagion. They may also be formulated as follows: similar things produce a similar effect, and things which have once been in contact with each other continue to be connected so that what happens with one of them also exerts influence on the other. Moreover, on the basis of these two principles and the belief in the efficacy of the rites conducted by it, magic attempts to achieve its aim by man's own power. Religion sees personal deities beyond the forces of nature and ascribes the course of the affairs of the world to their, more or less unrestricted, will. And so it achieves its aims indirectly by appealing to the deities with prayer and sacrifices; religion possesses the institution of priests, churches, worship (The Golden Bough, Pt. I, vol. 1, pp. 52-A on the principles of magic - they are the fundamental psychological phenomenon of the association of ideas. Chpt. XV, pp. 220-43, magic approximates science. Both are opposed to religion. Three stages: magic alone, magic confused with religion, magic opposed to religion). Basic criticism. Psychologically magic is something completely different from science because it does not infer ordinary consequences and regularities; it does not perceive in the world of objective things but relates emotionally, subjectively - our superstitions are something completely different from our scientific cognition, although one may be analogous to the other in practice (of course, here the psychological difference between science and superstition applies only to our psychology). But there are fundamental differences in the manner in which he reaches his •Original handwritten in Polish. Bronistaw Malinowski Papers, Manuscript and Archive, Stirling Library, Yale University, Group No. 19, Series 11, Box 27, file 244. 117

Malinowski's early writings results which Frazer does not recognize. Science reaches its laws more or less empirically and does not subject them to any restrictions. Magic is based on traditions of the sect; its rules are full of exceptional restrictions. These two principles of magic are only the fundamentals, but in order to understand the psychological states involved, we must reach farther into the depths of ideas of the mana ammuguilta type, etc. Undoubtedly, however, magic, as a form of human activity based on experience, is an equivalent of science. However, the definition of religion is very unsatisfactory. Just as we cannot determine whether the metaphysical system of a given individual and the social ethic based upon it is subjective or not by taking only the contents of beliefs into consideration, in the same way we cannot draw a boundary line between science and magic taking only their content into consideration. On the other hand, the following distinctions can be made: (1) does the given individual possess a system of beliefs or not? and (2) in what relationship does this system of beliefs stand to the society in which the individual lives? The definition of belief would be: the theory, cognition, or something of this sort according to which we regulate our behaviour. Science is something more than belief; it is a principle in which we believe, and moreover which we understand. Religion. This is a system of traditions explaining and justifying the world, and a system of norms regulating our conduct. Norms are motivated by traditions. Dogmatics and ethics are the two components of religion - the sine qua non. Therefore religion is a form organic to society, a social institution. Magic is only the efflorescence of certain sundry wants and things. More on magic. As we encounter magic, in combination with and merging with the religions of the people nearby, it links elements which later become differentiated objectively into various forms of collective psychology: science, superstition, and religion. But we cannot bring some of these elements to the fore, e.g. those corresponding to later science, while neglecting other elements. Magic stands in contradistinction to religion, which fulfills a basic organizing function, creating a common cult and a common system of norms, two things without which no society can exist. The cult is the result offerees, which evoke certain acts even outside of the cult. If these acts are not based on myth (dogma), they can be called magic. For no act exists in religion which is justified by empiricism or by any other act. We may thus 118

Religion and magic: The Golden Bough distinguish traditional empiricism from traditional mythology. This means that empiricism would provide its ordinances on the basis of experience, while traditional mythology gives its ordinances in the form of relating events (The Golden Bough, Pt. I, vol. 1, p. 90). 'Blood possesses a fertilizing virtue among the Australians. This explains the bloody rituals of many religions and many ceremonies'. This is a reversal of truth. This blood is something which acts extremely strongly on the nerves and the imagination; moreover the objective proof of this lies in the corresponding bloody rituals, which explain to us that in a certain specific instance blood is considered to be something still alive, a conception which arose from the more general conception through specialization. - In general the principles of magic are the following: that we consider that which we desire to exist everywhere around us; passion leads us to automatic mimetic acts; if we hate someone, we are capable, in our rage, of tearing, biting, and mutilating him through whatever is within our reach; these facts must be taken into account insofar as we wish to recreate a critical, psychological synthesis of magic. Observations on Frazer's Principles. Indeed, these principles can be demonstrated in very many magical rites. Since Frazer does not even mention the mimetic dancers, expressing worship, even the other examples given by Frazer are not sufficient. At any rate we may assume that these principles exhaust the definition of the relationship of the content of the rite to the intended goal. But this by no means explains either the psychological genesis of the rite or the psychological relationship of the rite mentioned to the religion. Let us begin with the latter since it is a simpler matter. With regard to the person performing the rite, it is impossible to speak of his acceptance of the laws and order of the universe, of his searching for them independently, or even of his grasping what is going on in them when he becomes initiated. The only things which exist for him are his practical goal and the faith that certain methods exist to achieve this goal which no one understands, but which have been tested and are derived from mysterious sources, probably from some sort of revelation. Revelation is the concept to which experience must be contrasted. The savage derives his knowledge (about hunting, etc.) from experience; the superstition which arises from this experience is quite different from science, but this is something else again. On the other hand, magical acts proper have their origin in 119

Malinowski's early writings revelation and cannot be understood without it. In the individual psychology derived from magic tradition, there can be no talk of laws, of similarity and continuity 1 which results from one's ideas. And how can we explain a psychological genesis? An origin is out of the question. At most, all we can take into consideration is the attitude of given individuals who had modified it. Or we can establish a hypothetical construction, of the relationship of such objective products to [*] [illegible - eds.]. Rationalization of the rite (a clear distinction of Catholic rites for example) is a very recent development, of dogmatic religion. Such a rationalistic genesis is a pleasure, i.e., it was known as soon as it had arisen, but later the knowledge was obliterated, i.e., reversing the obvious. THE GOLDEN BOUGH

p. 132. For me, keeping faithful to one's husband while the husband is away at war is the result of certain feelings of guilt and also of certain principles. Before the campaign, the husbands, both Christians and savage, feeling the presence of evil, think that if there is an evil force at home, evil may appear at war. If some association operates here, it is only an emotional one. Domestic hostility at home and hostility at war are linked. Again, women have certain feelings of guilt towards their husbands when something evil happens to them. And so, naturally, they do not want to compromise them. The second basic form is dancing, movement in general, the execution of certain [*] [illegible - eds.]. The psychological origin of this is not so much a rationalization as a natural impulse. When we have a preoccupation, when something important happens behind our backs, the natural impulse is to do something. We are seized with anxiety, and even though realizing the futility of the action, we move about. And the idea springs from this background. But without the emotional background the ideas would lead to nothing. Concrete magic. According to Frazer this consists of an association of ideas, based on the principle that man merges and identifies with what he sees. For me this is false, for the concept of merging says nothing to me. In psychology there are other associations of ideas. Contact is a real, experiential osculation in space. And its force depends on the frequency with which we experience 120

Religion and magic: The Golden Bough them. However, here experiential frequency is by no means decisive. Contact must be defined by something else. But by what? Only an analysis of the emotional aspects of human psychology can give us an answer. The things which are subject to concrete magic, par excellence, are parts of the body. Parts that can be removed, which are loosely connected. Are we, emotionally, in an entirely different relation to them? No. From our own psychology we can draw the conclusion that it is not so. We ourselves are strongly affected by extracted teeth and spilled blood. Hence the principle that the affects are crystallized in magic ideas. Placentas are in contact, but the act of birth, the incomprehension of these matters must all impart certain affective features. p. 205. In order to explain the connection between the weapon and the wound, Frazer constantly resorts to the intermediary of blood. Here the entire complex of the phenomenon of affects is linked with wounding; feelings towards the objects which are the cause of suffering, etc. —Chapter on the magic control of rain, sun, and wind. Here we proceed to public magic rites which, obviously, should concern the whole society. In contradistinction to numerous examples, Frazer refers to private magic, which he had mentioned before, and which was also magic according to my definition. Here they should rather be acts of a public, compulsory, systematic cult. The main points of interest are as follows: (1) Do these acts possess economic features, is work carried out in them, is it economic, do they train man for an economic way of thinking? (2) Do these acts possess characteristics of a religious cult? Are they public, regular, and based on a special organization? In general, Frazer's manner of treating them mainly as to their contents does not suit me very much. p. 247. Frazer distinguishes public from private magic, but attaches very little weight to this distinction; he does not consider whether it is a dominant characteristic or not. Does it correspond to the distinction between magic and religion as we know it? p. 315. What a hoax! He considers the Mexican sacrifices of human hearts to the sun to be magic because they are not offered to please the sun but to add strength to it. Is a miracle not to be 121

Malinowski's early writings defined socially? a deed which cannot be performed by an average member of the society? This ought to be exemplified by creeds in miracles. But to define 'miracle' taking more or less our standpoint, i.e., with reference to national law etc., seems to me nearly absurd.2

122

4 TOTEMISM AND EXOGAMY (1911-1913)*

PART I

Occasioned by the book of J. G. Frazer, D.C.L., L.L.D., F.B.A. Totemism and Exogamy (4 vols. London, 1910) The four-volume treatise on totemism and exogamy by Professor Frazer is undoubtedly the most important publication in the social sciences which has appeared in English in recent years. For not only is the subject one of the most interesting ethnological problems but the author of the treatise also possesses high scientific qualifications, and his name is, as it were, linked with the history of this question. Although in the introduction to his work Professor Frazer, with his customary modesty, mentions the Scottish sociologist J. F. McLennan as the first who had drawn the attention of scholars to the totemic phenomena, the first systematic treatise on totemism was published in 1887 by Professor Frazer. Until the appearance of the present work, this small book was the classic treatment of totemic phenomena. It drew the general attention to them, exerted fundamental influence on further research, and was an invaluable source of facts and observations. It is well known that totemism is a form of primitive beliefs, and the essential substance of these beliefs consists in the conception that a close connection and interdependence exist between a given group of people and a given animal, plant, or inanimate object. This connection and dependence can be of various kinds. Sometimes we encounter the idea that the clan, or group of people of the same totem, and the animal totemically connected with this group •Original published in three parts in Polish in the journal Lud, vols. 17-19. They appeared as (1) T o t e m i z m i egzogamia (Z powodu ksiazki J. G. Frazera, DCL, LLD, FBA: Totemism and Exogamy, 4 vols., London, 1910)', Cze.sc I, Lud 17: 31-56; (2) 'Totemizm i egzogamia (Z powodu ksiazki J. G. Frazera . . . ) ' , Cze.sc II, Lud 18: 14—15; and (3) 'Totemizm i egzogamia (Z powodu ksiazki J. G. Frazera . . . ) ' , Cz^sc III, Lud 19: 153-71.

123

Malinowski's early writings descend from a common ancestor. Sometimes a belief exists about a close kinship of an animal or a plant and a human group, not resulting, however, from common descent. Then again, a plant or animal may be worshipped and be a kind of deity. We will be able to fill in these broad definitions while discussing the examples cited below by Professor Frazer. For the time being it is sufficient to point out that totemism is both a religious conception and a social institution. All the people related to the same animal or plant are thereby related to each other and constitute a social unit: a totemic clan. Besides other peculiarities these social units possess the attribute that the members of a given group who regard themselves as relatives are not permitted, in the majority of cases, to marry among themselves; in other words, totemic clans are usually exogamic units. Therefore, totemism and exogamy have been and are considered by many scholars to be inseparable phenomena, and although in his present work Professor Frazer considers these phenomena to have originally arisen independently, he nevertheless gives them parallel treatment and tries to demonstrate how they have reached the state of interdependence, in which they are presently encountered almost everywhere. Professor Frazer's new work is composed of three parts: (1) a reprint of the original treatise on totemism (of 1887) and a reprint of two articles on the origins of religion and totemism (of 1899 and 1905); these reprints occupy 172 pages of volume I. (2) the further portion of volume I from pp. 175-579, volumes II and III contain a geographically arranged, very detailed and complete survey of phenomena connected with totemism and exogamy throughout the globe. (3) volume IV contains the author's theoretical research on the subject under study: the author's main theories about the origins of totemism and exogamy (vol. IV, pp. 1-169). The remaining part of volume IV (pp. 173-319) contains supplements and corrections mostly referring to the prints of the former works contained in volume I. Of these three parts, undoubtedly the most important and that possessing the greatest and most durable significance is the second. The author's unusual erudition, his great ability to illuminate facts and to demonstrate essential connections between them which are imperceptible at first glance - qualities so 124

Totemism and exogamy splendidly developed in the classic work, The Golden Bough impart an undeniable value to this collection of facts also. To these we should add an unusually beautiful and attractive style as well as the fact that an immense quantity of previously unpublished, most recent ethnographic materials, which firstrank ethnographers of the whole world have placed at the disposal of this great scholar, is collected in this work. Thus, this collection, along with all of Professor Frazer's other works, will be an invaluable treasury and mine of facts for a host of scholars who, possessing splendidly collected material arranged in such a way as to bring many a dependence between phenomena into relief, will perhaps often be able to formulate more precise and more scientific theories than the original author. For the theories set forth by Professor Frazer in the present work cannot stand up to serious criticism, as we will try to demonstrate below. However, they are extremely interesting from a methodological point of view because they possess all the advantages and defects of the English anthropological school, and through them one can demonstrate both the advantages and weaknesses of the method employed by that school. We will now begin a systematic review of the three parts of the work in question. The purpose of the reprinted treatise on totemism was the definition of what totemism actually is and the presentation of all of its peculiarities.1 We are here dealing with a brilliant empirical treatment of the subject, which constitutes such an outstanding virtue of the English anthropological school. Every statement is explained by a considerable number of examples drawn from all areas of ethnography. At the beginning he defines the term totem more or less as we have done above (I, 3)2 and then distinguishes the clan totem, the personal totem, and the totem depending on sex, for in certain tribes the males possess one animal or plant as their totem, while the female portion of the population has another totem. However, only clan totems have an almost exclusively sociological significance. In the chapter on the religious aspects of totemism, Professor Frazer examines an entire series of beliefs pertaining to an animal, plant, or totemic object. Widespread is the idea of the common descent of clan members and their totem, plant or animal, from a common mythical ancestor, who sometimes is an animal or plant and sometimes a human being. The clan members are obligated to show respect to their totem, to spare and to take care of it. The 125

Malinowski's early writings clan members are often prohibited from killing, destroying, or using the totemic object. Some tribes observe mourning for a totemic animal. In others it is forbidden to mention the name of the animal. Every offence against the totem results in bad consequences, such as death, illness, etc. In return the totem protects the people related to it. Clan members often try to imitate their totem and to unite with it more closely, dressing in its hide or feathers, tattooing its picture on their bodies, or using its likeness as clan insignia. At various celebrations, such as birthdays, marriages, or funerals, totemism plays an important role, but its most important role is at the initiation of young men reaching sexual maturity. All of these aspects of totemic ideas are illustrated by Professor Frazer with numerous examples. In the chapter on the social aspect of totemism, he examines mainly the legal and exogamic functions of the totemic clan. Because the views contained therein are for the most part obsolete, since recent material collected in the past twenty years forces changes in them, we will not enter into a detailed analysis of them, especially since the author has changed them himself. In the notes and corrections at the end of chapter IV, a considerable portion of the views expressed in the original study is changed or revoked. The remaining portion of the reprints in the first volume consists of two treatises on the origins of totemism and religion, with which we will deal in criticizing the theories of volume IV. Therefore let us now pass to the second part of the work, to the systematic survey of totemic phenomena. With the exception of Europe, we encounter these phenomena in all parts of the world. Volume IV of Frazer's work contains a map of the world on which the areas inhabited by totemic tribes are marked in red. They occupy the entire continent of Australia, half of New Guinea, the Malaysian Islands and part of the Polynesian Islands, almost the whole continent of North America and considerable areas in Africa. Moreover, we find vestiges of totemism in India, the Sunda Islands, and in South America. Professor Frazer gives us a description of the totemism and exogamy of all of these peoples within the framework of their general characterization, so that his work may be read with interest as a colourful anthropo-geography. However, in the systematic listing of facts, we are struck by the lack of a clearly formulated, purposeful method, the lack of posing a problem and tracing the course of research. The author simply begins to des126

Totemism and exogamy cribe the facts, making a theoretical digression here and there. And this lack of method may undoubtedly be felt quite often, as we will try to demonstrate. Such a general survey of facts as we have before us touches and suggests all sorts of problems of comparative ethnology, such as the question of whether a given social institution, belief, or custom, which we encounter scattered over the whole world, arose spontaneously in various places or were spread by imitation or by transfer, in other words, by the mutual interaction of the peoples. Then we have the basic problem of the theory of evolution, whether a given institution had a similar process of evolution in different peoples living far apart, in other words, can we place various forms of the same institution encountered among various peoples with different levels of culture in a uniform evolutionary row? This postulate of a straightforward and identical process of evolution, although formally discarded by scholars, still plays an important role today in many scholarly works as a tacitly accepted assumption. Hidden assumptions of this sort are always dangerous and make the evaluation and critique of the theories and conclusions put forward more difficult. Therefore, the author of such an extensive and basic treatise ought to take a clearly defined stand on all basic problems to facilitate the readers' orientation not only to his theories, but also to his treatment of the facts and method of describing them, which is always essentially connected to the theoretical views. The fewer hypothetical assumptions and postulates to be found in a given description of facts, the greater the value of this description, but because every precise description of facts requires precise concepts, and these can be provided only by theory, every description and classification must thus be based of necessity on a theoretical formulation. Given a survey of totemic phenomena, we can demand that it should, first of all, enable us to discover the essential characteristics and general forms of these phenomena and elicit the basic connections between the totemic phenomena and the other forms of collective life. A precise concept of totemism, like all empirical concepts, is acquired only through induction and comparing phenomena: carefully investigating the characteristics in each individual case and taking what is common in all these cases as a general notion of totemism. To reach this goal in a faultless manner, it is necessary to formulate precisely a method for comparing ethnographic phenomena. It should be easy to see that the 127

Malinowski's early writings elaboration of such a method would force the author to take a clear stand on the above mentioned and other basic problems. First of all, we should ask how to compare analogous facts encountered among people on different levels of culture. According to the theory of straightforward evolution, should these facts be considered forms of the same institution in various phases, or should a very important influence be ascribed to local factors which give to each institution a specific stamp distinguishing it fundamentally from related forms in other localities? Professor Frazer does not give us a developed method for comparison, and we cannot tackle these problems more extensively: I will, however, try to provide a few guiding points. Meanwhile, let us proceed with a survey of the concrete facts presented by Professor Frazer. The author begins with a description of Australian totemism. The Australians are the most primitive of the peoples among whom we encounter totemic beliefs, and therefore their totemism is the most primitive. Therefore, the author hopes that he will find in them the key to solving some fundamental questions. Australian ethnography distinguishes four autochthons: (1) Southeastern tribes which inhabit Victoria, New South Wales, and part of the southern provinces of Australia; (2) Central and North Central tribes inhabiting the central part of the continent; (3) Northeastern tribes inhabiting the province of Queensland; (4) tribes of Western Australia. The tribes of Central Australia are best known and described by Messrs. Spencer and Gillen. Both men, having spent a long time among the natives, have described them in detail in two classic works.3 The results of their research have been subjected to a scrupulous check by the German missionary, Strehlow, who had even mastered the local language. Strehlow's works,4 in their main outlines, have confirmed the results of Spencer's and Gillen's research; therefore, it is regrettable that Frazer completely ignores the work of the German author. 5 The Central Australian tribes occupy a considerable portion of the continent and differ from each other comparatively little. What we will say about their totemism pertains mainly to the Arunta tribe (according to Gillen and Spencer) or Arunda (according to Strehlow) which is the best known. A characteristic feature of the central tribes is the vast development of the legends about the totemic ancestors, who are known 128

Totemism and exogamy in the Arunta tribe as alchehnga. This appellation includes both the ancestors' persons and their deeds, history and the whole epoch to which these legends pertain. This epoch reaches back to the most remote times, the creation of the world, of people, etc. Obviously, one must avoid the assumption that the primitive mind is capable of any precise and defined concepts such as the sequence of time, infinity, epochs, etc. However, their legends can probably be arranged in a certain sequence, but this sequence6 is expressed in an extremely undefined way.7 The oldest legends pertaining to the origin of the earth, the origin or rather the making of men, to the evil beings: oruncha, are less interesting and important for describing totemism. Their value lies in that part of the legends in which it is explained how true kinship or partial identity of those ancestors with their totemic animals is constituted. Spencer and Gillen maintain that the primitive beings, who were slowly transformed into humans, went through stages or degrees in the metamorphosis of animals and plants into humans; hence these people who were the alcheringa; ancestors obviously have something of the given animal or plant in their natures. 8 Strehlow asserts that the animal and plant nature of these ancestors is manifested in their ability to assume at will the form of animals or plants and also in their ability to produce them. 9 The Australians themselves probably have no clear conception about this and in their mystic, nebulous way of thinking simply identify their ancestors with their totemic animals.10 These ancestors of a half human and half animal nature wandered in bands composed of persons of the same totem and passed through various parts of the territory in which their descendants live today. The history of the alcheringa ancestors constitutes a kind of holy scripture for the Arunta tribe. The entire social organization, all forms of worship, and all beliefs are closely connected with the events, wanderings, and deeds of these ancestors. Therefore, it can be said that these traditions are types of legends - myths in the strictest sense of the word - and that they are very well developed and rich.11 Obviously, the life of these ancestors is of the same type and substance as that of the present inhabitants and heirs of the heroic alcheringa ancestors. The ancestors murdered each other, performed various ceremonies, hunted, and wandered about in the same way as their descendants do today.12 But there are some important details in their history and social organization which distinguish them from 129

Malinowski's early writings their present successors. They always roamed about in bands of the same totem, and this was their sole form of social organization;13 they married among themselves in their horde,14 and usually fed on their totem.15 We will return to these points in discussing Professor Frazer's theories, but now let us take up the question of how the alcheringa traditions are directly linked to the present organization and the present social conditions of the Arunta tribe. Tired from their long wanderings, the totemic alcheringa ancestors ended their terrestrial career by descending underground, and at the spot where they disappeared, there remained a sign of this important event, a big stone, a tree, a pond, or a rock. Such spots have a tremendous significance in the eyes of the natives. They are fertile in 'spirit children' (Spencer and Gillen) or Kinderkeime (Strehlow), who remain there, left by the alcheringa ancestors, and await the opportunity to reincarnate themselves. How these mythical ancestors vanished from the face of the earth, how the spirit children arose in these spots, and what their nature is, about all of this the Australians' conceptions are very unclear and complex. This is demonstrated by the great variety of versions presented both by Spencer and Gillen and particularly by Strehlow.16 It is essential to our considerations that such spots exist scattered over the whole territory of the tribe and that in each of these totemic centres are found spirit children, retapa, belonging to the same totem as that centre and awaiting reincarnation.17 If some woman, especially a young one, finds herself near such a spot, or even only within a given totemic district, and the spirit child singles her out, it simply enters her, incarnates itself, and then a child is born belonging to the same totem to which the retapa belonged; in other words, every person belongs to the totem in whose area his mother had perceived that she was pregnant. This faith in a supernatural incarnation is extremely deeply rooted in the minds of the inhabitants of central Australia. It entirely conceals from them their realization of the natural process of reproduction, and the causal connection between intercourse and conception is completely unknown to them. It is an extremely important fact for ethnology that even today peoples are found on the face of the earth who, besides not knowing of our natural way of leaving this world, also do not know that we enter life without the help of supernatural forces.18 Such ideas are bound to exert a fundamental influence on a number of 130

Totemism and exogamy social institutions. First of all, in the question of family organization, we are dealing with a people that does not know of the blood ties between father and child. Moreover, conceptualistic ideas are the basis of clan unity. We have seen above that the spirit children, staying in a given totemic centre, always stem from a common group of alcheringa ancestors, that is, they are of the same totem, and all people who are a reincarnation of these spirits, namely all those conceived in the same totemic district, comprise the totemic clan. Therefore the unity of the clan in central Australia is based on ideas of their common descent from a group of ancestors of the same totem. It should also be noted that we are here dealing with a belief in reincarnation because some totemic ancestor is incarnated in every child, specifically the one from which a given retapa descends.19 An interesting feature of Australian totemism is the immense importance which the natives attach to the so-called churingas. These are flat, oblong pieces of wood or stone of oval shape tied with a string at one end in such a way that they can be quickly set into motion, producing a characteristic sound. Each alcheringa ancestor carried such churingas and each spirit child is mystically linked with a certain churinga; these objects play a very important role in the totemic worship of the native tribes. The most important social function of all of these beliefs is undoubtedly that they are the basis for the unity of the totemic clan, a very important unit in the social organization of the Central Australian tribes. As we can see, all clan members regard themselves as being related because they are embodiments of ratapas of the same totem. Since the natives usually keep to the same locality and carry out their wanderings within their own territory, the majority of people in a tribe belong to the same totem. The totemic clans of central Australia are local units and are distinguished in Australia as well as elsewhere by not being exogamous. The tribes are divided, besides into totemic clans, into classes or phratries (names given by researchers), and the object of this division is to regulate marriages. The classes are exogamous, therefore the members of the same class are forbidden to marry among themselves. (In the Arunta tribe there are eight such classes.) The system of exogamous classes has nothing in common with the totemic clans, which are local and to which affiliation is defined by the fact of supernatural incarnation. Affiliation to a 131

Malinowski's early writings class is defined according to which class the father of a given individual belonged. The relationships of the exogamous classes are so involved and complicated that we will no longer speak of them, not intending to deal with exogamy in greater detail. Therefore, let us now proceed to the social organization of the clan. Each totemic clan has a leader or chief who possesses, however, a very meagre range of authority, restricted almost exclusively to presiding over the religious ceremonies of his clan. Alatunia (that is how the chief is called) has in his care the storehouse of churingas, and the place where they are hidden is considered holy. He decides when the ceremonies of worship are to be held and presides over them. The immensely rich development of these ceremonies constitutes, along with the myths and traditions, the main characteristic feature of central Australian totemism. These ceremonies are always substantially linked with the traditions of the ancestors and distinctly demonstrate the idea of unity with animals and plants and their interdependence with the people. They are usually dramatizations of various events from the lives of those ancestors.20 Whatever the purpose of the totemic ceremonies in the given case, they always have a totemic character. There are always actors made-up as animals or plants. In these performances the plastic art of the savages has reached a comparatively high stage of development and variety. Their attire and adornments, presented in numerous photographs by Spencer and Gillen and preserved in some museums, are astoundingly rich in ideas related to their entire culture. Decorated and made-up in a way which, in the mystic imagination of the spectators, identifies them with a given totemic animal, savage actors present sometimes rather involved spectacles connected in substance with their thought about their ancestors. They mimic the movements and voices of the animals in a way that is sometimes perfect. The whole history of the alcheringa era is immortalized and brought out in a number of their historical dramas. These performances, however, always have a clear and well-defined purpose within the framework of a given social organization. And so they constitute an important part of the initiation ceremony. As we know, in the whole of Australia every adult male passes through a number of initiations which admit him to the full rights of the tribe as well as to esoteric secrets carefully concealed from women and children. These secrets are the traditions from the alcheringa era, the knowledge of the churinga, their 132

Totemism and exogamy ceremonies, and the holy places where the churinga are stored. The totemic performances are precisely the main content of such initiation ceremonies. The old men instruct the young about the tribal traditions, the laws, and the morality, all this being based on and derived from alcheringa history. These legends also contain justifications for the bloody and repugnant rites of circumcision, scorching, knocking out teeth, and especially for the horrible rite of subincision, which constitute the most important external facts of initiation. Moreover, the performances take place as so-called intichiuma ceremonies, which impart to the central tribes the character of a magic cooperative for economic purposes. The task of these ceremonies is to increase a given species of totemic animal or plant; they are carried out by the clan whose totem is that of the given animal or plant. The alcheringa ancestors had the power to increase and even to produce their totemic animal: the intichiuma ceremonies are, as it were, an inheritance of this power; a magic force is contained in the dances and performances which compels the animal or plant to multiply. Connected to the intichiuma ceremonies is the ritual eating of the totem, which otherwise the members of the clan are forbidden to eat unless as a last resort, and even then in small quantities. 21 When they want to define clearly the relationship of people to their totems, Spencer and Gillen say that the natives simply identify themselves with their totemic animal, saying, for example, 'the kangaroo is the same as me'.22 With this I finish the survey of the totemism of the central tribes. We know the totemism of other tribes much less accurately; they were investigated less methodically and uniformly. These tribes seem to be less homogeneous than the central ones. In order to avoid accumulating details, which are often even uncertain, a general survey of these tribes will suffice. In general, it may be said that we know the social aspect of totemism comparatively well but have less knowledge of its beliefs, traditions and ideas. In Professor Frazer's work exogamy comes to the fore in the description of these tribes, and we read very little on totemism proper. Since we do not intend to enter into the details of exogamy,23 we will only note that each tribe is divided into two, four, or eight strictly exogamous groups. This division regulates the laws of contracting marriages and at the same time forms the basis of kinship. In central Australia, these classes have nothing in common with totemic clans; so that members of the 133

Malinowski's early writings same clan are scattered in all four or eight classes, while in all other Australian tribes, totemic clans are always to be found in one and the same phratry. Class division corresponds to class division. In other words, totemic clans are always exogamous units. The south-eastern tribes are considerably less homogeneous than those inhabiting the centre of the continent, and we therefore have to distinguish several subdivisions. The Urabunna, Dieri, and a few related tribes neighbour the central group and also possess a similar totemism.24 Some legends about their ancestors and their deeds and wanderings exist which closely approximate the alcheringa history. These ancestors, the mura-mura, descended into the earth in the same way after having finished their wanderings and created totemic centres in those spots where the spirit children remain after them and await incarnation. But these centres are usually inhabited by spirit children of several totems; therefore the totemism does not possess the markedly local character here that it does in the central tribes. Furthermore, every spirit child changes its totem at its incarnation and assumes the totem of the mother, and after its death it returns to its original totem, and at its new birth it changes its totem, class, and sex. In these tribes there also exist ceremonies of the intichiuma type whose object is the multiplication of the totemic species.25 Man is forbidden from eating his totem and may not kill it and give it to his friends, and so, as we see, this totemism shows a great similarity to that of the central tribes. Even less is known about the totemism of the remaining south-eastern tribes; however, this does not mean that totemism is less profusely developed in these tribes, but there was no one who could investigate it while these people still existed. There is no longer time to fill this gap in our knowledge because these tribes have either been entirely exterminated, or their dying remnants have forgotten the traditions, beliefs, and customs of their ancestors whose knowledge is forever lost. Only scant details, not presented as a whole, have been preserved about the totemism of some tribes. In this way legends about the ancestors have reached us; also known is the exogamous organization of the majority of these tribes, and as we know, this organization is closely linked with totemism in this group. Also, at least a part of the totemic names has survived, but 134

Totemism and exogamy these details do not enable us to look more deeply into the essence of the totemic organizations and beliefs. The group of north-eastern tribes is known comparatively well thanks to the thorough investigations of W. E. Roth.26 However, whether this researcher has not paid sufficient attention to the totemic aspect of their beliefs and organizations, or whether totemism really is less developed among them, at any rate, an impression arises from Roth's works that these tribes are not totemic, which the author states outright. We know still less about the western tribes; it can be deduced from certain data that totemism existed among them, but this general information possesses little value. It should be noted that belief in supernatural conception and complete ignorance of the natural connection between coitus and concepcio is spread through the larger part of the continent. We know that this is so among the northern and northeastern tribes, and it is probably so among the western and eastern tribes. But in Queensland the ideas about the incarnation of children are entirely different from those of the central tribes and have nothing in common with totemism. This concludes our general survey of facts connected with totemism, however, it will suffice for us to make a few critical remarks on the manner in which Professor Frazer presents Australian totemism. First of all, it should be recalled that what has been said here is not a summarization of Frazer's work. Collected here are facts from source books, and the results of Spencer's and Gillen's work are complemented with the observations of other authors which Frazer uses only in part or not at all (cf. note 5).27 Moreover, I have almost completely passed over in silence a number of related problems of sociology, family, and lineage which Frazer treats extensively; these would unnecessarily complicate this short essay dealing exclusively with totemism. This principle and fundamental reproach that could be made against Professor Frazer's method is that he does not give us a clear and objective picture of the state of things, independently of any hypotheses or theories. On the contrary, when describing facts Frazer constantly employs concepts drawn from purely hypothetical and, as it were, personal assumptions and dogmas. He makes no clear line of demarcation between facts and inferences from facts; there are no clearly noted assumptions; we must find them for ourselves in order to be able to subject them to 135

Malinowski's early writings criticism. This is exactly what we will now briefly endeavour to do. All of Professor Frazer's hypotheses and assumptions concern the basic problem of the origin and development of totemism; therefore he tries to arrange the Australian facts in a developmental series, and it is here that a field for fundamental criticism opens, because for many reasons the Australian material cannot be forced into an evolutionary series. Our knowledge about the Australian tribes is to a large degree not uniform. As we have seen above in surveying totemism, we know only one group of tribes (the central tribes) well. We know either nothing or very little about the others. This is also true about other aspects of the tribes; with some we know the social organization more precisely, with others their beliefs, with still others their material culture. Not a single characteristic, not a single aspect of their culture exists on the basis of which a uniform comparison of all tribes could be performed. And so comparative investigations are very difficult, while establishing an evolutionary series is quite impossible. Arranging such a series is easier the more the cultures compared vary. About the Australians, we only know for certain that if any differences in their culture exist, they are extremely small. Only a thorough knowledge of a number of tribes based on uniform and systematic investigations of a set of particularities could serve as a basis for evolutionary research. The present state of Australian ethnography does not provide a sufficient basis for solving evolutionary problems and riddles; as a matter of fact, all attempts in that direction are manifestly very unsatisfactory. Since Australian ethnography is at present a very timely subject, and ethnological methods are based on evolutionism, many prominent scholars have endeavoured to decide the question of which Australian tribes are on the lowest level of culture, which on a higher, and which on the highest. However, each scholar places the tribes in a different evolutionary series and justifies it in a different manner. What evokes the most distrust in their results is the fact that each of their series agrees by a strange coincidence with the author's a priori views and hypotheses. Professor Frazer's own series plays a very important role. The primitiveness of the central tribes, especially of the Arunta, is the cornerstone of all his theories. And so the author devotes a considerable portion of his work to substantiating his assertion, 28 and tries to prove by somewhat general, though very eloquent, arguments the 'primitiveness' of the Arunta tribe. Since central 136

Totemism and exogamy Australia is an infertile country, a rocky and sandy desert, and since the continental climate, with its extremes of heat and cold, drought and rare but heavy rains, makes this part of the continent one of the most inhospitable and unfavourable environments for human life, on the other hand, since the climatic conditions and fertility of the soil on Australian shores make this corner of the earth one of the most endowed with the riches of living nature, it is no wonder that the central tribes were to develop less than the coastal ones. Professor Frazer supports this general reasoning with a number of examples. The central tribes walk about stark naked; although they possess animal skins, they do not know how to protect themselves from the cold which sometimes reaches freezing temperatures. They do not know how to build shelters; they protect themselves against the wind and rain only with a screen woven from brushwood and twigs. On the other hand, the tribes inhabiting the coast build permanent houses of wood and stone so large that twelve persons can be accommodated in them and prepare the skins of killed animals to serve them as warm clothing. Parallel to the progress in material culture, Professor Frazer also mentions facts testifying to progress in social institutions. The savages of the central deserts do not have chiefs at all, and tribal authority rests in the hands of the oldest men. Many customs connected with marriage also testify to the primitiveness of those tribes. The coastal tribes possess chiefs, and their forms of marriage and family correspond to higher degrees of culture. However, neither Frazer's general reasoning nor the facts mentioned by him stand up to criticism. His general reasoning is always arbitrary with reference to social organizations and culture, while from Frazer's facts some, such as government chiefs and the manner of building lodgings, are based on uncertain data, while others are interpreted and used quite arbitrarily. Instead of entering further into the merits of Frazer's arguments, I will briefly quote a few opinions of other authors on the question of the evolutionary series of the Australian tribes. Tremendously precise, though unconvincing, are the arguments of Professor Durkheim.29 He maintains that all data indicate a considerably higher level of culture in the central tribes, especially in the Arunta, in comparison with other Australian tribes.30 Durkheim bases this primarily on the characteristics of the social organization and on the statement that reckoning consanguinity through the mother is more primitive than reckoning descent 137

Malinowski's early writings through the father. Therefore, as we see, these views are the exact opposite of the opinions of Frazer. Siding with the latter is the prominent French scholar, A. van Gennep, who finds features of great primitiveness especially in the Arunta tribe.31 On the other hand, A. Lang is of the opinion that the Arunta tribe is far removed from a primitive state, that it is one of the most developed in Australia and that the totemic views about conception are the result of a complex animistic philosophy.32 The wellknown researchers Spencer and Gillen stand decidedly on Frazer's side; they see in the Arunta tribe the lowest representatives of mankind and, at any rate, the least developed of the Australian tribes. Another no less outstanding Australian ethnographer, Howitt, arranges the evolutionary series in a different way and places the Arunta tribe in the middle. Pater W. Schmidt33 argues that the Arunta tribe possesses a very complex and high degree of culture in relation to other tribes. I have presented these examples to show what an extremely great variety of opinion prevails on the question under discussion. This shows how uncertain the foundations and the manner of formulating the problem must be if the scholars' opinions are so divided and divergent. If so many scholars deal with this baseless and undefined question, the reason is the almost exclusive prevalence of evolutionism in sociology and ethnology, and the fact that the evolutionary series, once established, gives every scholar a broad and pleasant field for speculation. Let us look at some conclusions which Professor Frazer draws from his evolutionary assumptions. Assuming as an axiom that the central tribes stand on the lowest level of culture, he considers that with them we find the image of 'totemism pure and simple'. Hence, all characteristics and the general aspect of this totemism may be assumed to be primitive forms from which all others encountered among peoples standing on a higher level of culture, developed. Therefore, his only task is to go over in succession all of the characteristics of the totemism of the central tribes, stressing their 'primitiveness' to demonstrate what it consists in and to draw the evolutionary line of these characteristics. As we have seen above, totemism and exogamy in the central tribes are independent of each other. Professor Frazer regards this as an original phenomenon which probably existed among all peoples of the earth. He sees a confirmation of his view in the fact that in the legends of the Arunta tribe, the alcheringa ancestors married 138

Totemism and exogamy exclusively within their totemic clan.34 These legends are considered by Frazer as a faithful rendering of the historical truth; in other words, totemism and exogamy arose independently of each other, and exogamy is the later phenomenon.35 It is the result of social reforms carried out by primitive people in a purposeful manner.36 Frazer bases this view on some legends of the Dieri tribe and particularly on the fact that social reforms even today arise among the central tribes on the initiative of old, experienced and influential men, as stated by Spencer and Gillen.37 The purpose of this conscious social reform is the prevention of marriage between close relatives.38 Here the question arises: What could have been the reasons inducing primitive people to combat incest?39 One may not assume either natural repugnance of incest, because numerous examples prove that no such repugnance exists among primitive people, nor fear of the bad effects of such a union on the progeny. To this day biology has not had the last word on that question, ands so what could completely primitive people have known about it? Frazer supposes that the evil which those primitive reformers feared is of a magical nature. 40 And so we see that exogamy, which always appears in conjunction with totemism and was therefore regarded as an essential totemic feature, is considered by Professor Frazer, solely on the basis of facts from central Australia, to be an independent and later institution resulting from a purposeful reform. Besides exogamy, a basic totemic feature is the totemic taboo in general, the absolute prohibition against killing and eating the totemic animal. As we have seen, there is no such prohibition in the full sense and severity in central Australia, while the legends attest that the alcheringa ancestors always fed on their totemic animal or plant. It is precisely in this that Professor Frazer sees the proof that the oldest totemism did not know a totemic taboo.41 Frazer explains the primordiality of feeding on the totem with the assertion that in this way the primitive people identified with their totem,42 while the totemic taboo could have arisen as a desire to appease and to win the favour of the animal.43 As we have seen a characteristic feature of totemism is the intichiuma ceremonies, in which each clan endeavours to multiply its totem. In this semimagical and semi-economic function Frazer also sees one of the more primitive features of totemism. According to him the idea of a magic cooperative is a simple and natural product of primitive thinking;44 since it is capable of being developed, we encounter 139

Malinowski's early writings more developed forms of it in the high totemic peoples.45 In this way Professor Frazer goes over all the manifestations of the totemism of the central tribes, and in each he seeks to show its primitiveness and to sketch the outline of further development. The harvest which Professor Frazer reaps from the Australian material is very rich; however, it cannot be regarded as a dependable scientific achievement. The basic assumption of the Australian evolutionary series is uncertain, but even in the details many objections could be raised against Frazer's theories. He uncritically regards legends to be historical truths, and his theory of exogamy is open to criticism in many respects. Above all, the acceptance of any conscious, large scale social reforms in very primitive peoples seems to be basically erronseous. Small changes in customs may occur with them through individual initiative, but it is impossible to assume the introduction of basic changes in social organization in this way. In particular Frazer bases his theory on very scanty factual material, often only on guesses. Finally, the independence of totemism and exogamy in central Australia is an entirely exceptional phenomenon. Therefore one must first of all prove that this exception is not an anomaly before basing a whole theory on it.46 So much for Professor Frazer's methods and theories. In order to elucidate better the criticism applied to his views, it would be well to point out the methods and treatment which could be applied to the Australian material and also to point out what results could be thus attained. It should be mentioned first of all that the aims of exact science do not consist in constructing theories and hypotheses concerning areas beyond the limits of experience, but rather in an exact and accurate description of facts. The interest of an exact scientist should focus on understanding and penetrating the mechanism and essence of social phenomena as they exist at present and are accessible to observation, and not in order that these phenomena should serve as a key to solving the riddle of a prehistoric past about which we cannot know anything empirically. Evolutionary hypotheses possess meaning and value, but only insofar as other forms of cognition are not subordinated to them. The ultimate goals of any scientific investigation are to discover the facts, to acquire a knowledge of their connections and interdependence, and consequently to gain the ability to deal with them comprehensively. All of this would be a banal truth for a natural scientist, but in the sociological 140

Totemism and exogamy sciences the interesting but inexact chats about the origins of various social institutions and beliefs should be replaced at last by less attractive but more exact investigations of sociological laws. Where to seek these laws and what the methods of sociology should be, only special research can decide. Methodological philosophizing without a basis in facts is as far off the mark as the uncritical collecting of facts and the construction of often nonessential theories. In order to present these general remarks more concretely, we will illustrate them with a few examples from the problems of Australian totemism. Professor Frazer gives a detailed survey of totemic phenomena among all the peoples where these phenomena can be found. The first objective of such a description, as we have mentioned at the beginning, is as faithful as possible a rendering of the characteristic and specific features in every separate group of tribes. What matters is namely this, that in each individual case those features should be emphasized which play an essential role. And so we see that according to our previously stated general remarks, the researcher should endeavour not only to make his hypotheses not conflict with the facts, but also to make sure that his knowledge of the general characteristics of totemism does not obscure the individual features of the tribe in question. In my short description of the totemic facts of the central tribes, given above, the essential traits of totemism have been emphasized. Thus, on one hand we saw that the essential feature of totemic beliefs and ideas is a whole series of traditions pertaining to the alcheringa ancestors. On the other hand, an essential social feature of the totemism is the fact that the totemic clan primarily serves the purposes of a magic or religious cult. Each social unit is defined by the functions it fulfils in society, and the clan's functions in Australia are exclusively of a religious nature. These two points which we have emphasized contain an answer to two basic problems connected with totemism: (1) what is man's relationship to his totem? and (2) what is man's relationship to his totemic clan? But as we have indicated several times in our description of the facts, the answer to both of these questions can only be obtained through a detailed accumulation of facts pertaining to each of these points, and the general formula can be attained only as a result of a careful examination of details. Any general and a priori definitions, such as that man's relationship to 141

Malinowski's early writings his totem or to his totemic clan is a relationship of brotherhood or kinship, are worthless. Such a definition must be based on the collective psychology of a given society. Thus, in our opinion, it should be stated here that man's relationship to the totem is defined (1) by belief in reincarnation, (2) by belief in his totem's magic power of propagation. Everyone identifies with his ancestors to some degree, and the ancestor is identified with his totem inasmuch as he fed on it and had the power of producing it and assuming its form. In an Australian's primitive mind all of this is transformed into a nebulous image of identity extended to himself, his ancestors, the totem and the clan members. Aside from this general problem there still exists a number of others which also aim only at a deeper penetration of totemic phenomena. As is every social institution, totemism is also linked with a number of social phenomena, and keeping track of these connections and dependencies, particularly among primitive, and thus less differentiated peoples makes it possible for us to expand our ideas about these phenomena and even to discover new sociological laws. We have seen that the ties uniting the members of the same clan are ties of a certain affinity, and so the question arises: What is the relationship of the Australian to the family and to the other forms of clan organization? Here we see, first of all, that totemic ideas render the recognition of any blood ties between father and child impossible because they obscure the natural process of propagation. According to these ideas, the woman is fertilized by the totemic ratapa, and it is precisely from this that ties of clan unity result. And so we see that inasmuch as kinship with the father in our societies is based on the fact of fertilization, in central Australia the same fact produces only clan ties. Nevertheless, among these tribes an individual relationship of father to son does exist, but based on entirely different ideas than in other societies. And here the Australian beliefs open new and extremely important horizons for the history of the primitive family. Professor Frazer touches on these problems in passing in his work, but neither he nor anyone else has thoroughly elaborated these questions. As we have seen, the principal functions of the clan consist in practising totemic cult ceremonies, and thus one may ask whether these ceremonies should be regarded as religious or magical. Such a discussion compels us first of all to make an exact 142

Totemism and exogamy definition of these two concepts and thus a more exact classification and treatment of the facts.47 Totemism also fulfils economic functions because, as we have seen, each clan in practising the intichiuma ceremonies works for the increase of food for the whole tribe. How far, then, may these ceremonies be regarded as economic activities, and would it not be possible to discover interesting interdependencies between economic and religious-magical phenomena? With this purpose in mind it should be mentioned that the intichiuma ceremonies represent the only Australian example of a systematic, regular, purposeful social labour directed at the increasing of the food supply, i.e. at economic objectives. They are held in the season when, after a long and persistent drought, rains are to follow, and when showers are to begin; the whole shape of the earth, as if touched by a magic wand, changes for a short time from a rocky and sandy desert into a luxurious and fertile land. At such a critical moment each clan, under the leadership of its alatunia, or totemic chief, performs these ceremonies, which in a supernatural way are to compel all of nature, rain, plants, and animals, to attain the greatest luxuriance and productivity possible. It clearly appears from all of the details of the ceremonies that this purpose stands distinctly before the savages' eyes. At these ceremonies they develop an unaccustomed capacity for labour and toil. The preparations usually take a few days, and during the performance of them they fast and sometimes let great amounts of blood, which plays a great magic role and also serves them in preparing the ground and in pasting on the down and feathers with which they adorn themselves. We must also remember that the Australians do not know any other forms of collective labour because they even hunt individually, or in small groups of two or three. And so we see that in central Australia the only form of collective economic work takes place under the influence of religious-magical ideas. The impact of these ideas on the formation of some economic peculiarities in undifferentiated societies has often been asserted before, in particular the ideas of taboo (something untouchable, holy, and dangerous) among many peoples (particularly the Melanesians and Polynesians) constitute the basis for the protection of animals and plants, the gathering of food supplies and the saving of them for the future. At the intichiuma ceremonies in Australia, collective and 143

Malinowski's early writings purposeful work is organized in society by religious-magical ideas. Obviously, we cannot develop all the problems taken up here. We have mentioned them only in order to demonstrate that beyond the naively presented problem of evolution there are a number of sociological problems which possess more certain foundations and whose theoretical significance is not less. PART II

Australian totemism, about which I spoke earlier, has demanded longer attention, primarily because, the totemic phenomena in Australia represent an interesting and full grown type, giving ground for an entire series of general observations and remarks, and also because Frazer has devoted an exceptional amount of space to them in his work, both in a systematic survey and in a theoretical study of these phenomena. Now, keeping to the order in which Professor Frazer has described the various peoples, we will examine totemic facts in other parts of the world more superficially. As I have noted earlier, Frazer's survey is very chaotic. For every people or tribe that he refers to, he gives an abundance of general descriptions, such as: the geographic conditions, outlines of their material culture, the social and political organization of the given people, and exhausting the very details of family organization and kinship. Frazer must treat family organization and kinship at greater length, for knowledge of these facts is necessary for background in describing the phenomena of exogamy, which is the second subject of his treatise. However, the very totemic facts which interest us above all disappear to such an extent in the flood of other details, that it is difficult to extract them and to put them together into an organic whole. The author does not gather them in a systematic manner, does not group them according to any scheme, nor does he provide a more detailed analysis, comparison, or juxtaposition of them with other facts. In order to provide an easier orientation into totemic phenomena, we will create a provisional scheme, which can be constructed on the basis of the exceptionally complete facts from Australia, which represent nearly all of the characteristics of totemism. 144

Totemism and exogamy As we have mentioned earlier, totemism is a collection of standing beliefs in close connection with the social organization; we may thus distinguish the religious from the social aspect of totemism. To the former belong beliefs, legends, and the rites of the totemic cult, when considered with respect to their content; the latter, social aspect is defined by the form of the totemic clan's organization and by all of the social functions which it fulfils. In other words, we could say less specifically that the religious aspect is defined by man's relationship to his totem, and the social aspect by the mutual relationship of the members of the clan to one another, and the mutual relationship of the clans, as social units. 48 Obviously, the organization of the cult and the social influence of the beliefs belong to the latter category of the characteristics of totemism; for in religious manifestations it is necessary to distinguish the content of beliefs, which belong to the first part of our scheme, from the social forms of the function in which these beliefs make their appearance. 49 Both of these aspects, wherever they appear at the same time, as in Australia, are organically connected with one another. The totemic tradition is the basis for the organization of the clan, and social functions are confined, to a great degree, to the religion of the cult and are thus bound to the system of traditional ideas. Nevertheless, these two aspects, these two profiles of the same phenomena, are independent of each other; one can exist without the other, or they can be so unequally developed that the character of totemism can appear on the surface once as a system of beliefs or ideas having almost no influence on the social organization, and again like a pure form of social structure. North of Australia and southeast of New Guinea there extends an archipelago of small islands lying in the Torres Straits, and thus they are known as the Torres Straits Islands.50 The population of these islands constitute an anthropological transition from the Australians to the Papuans; the culture is noticeably higher than the Australians', and the culture and social structure has been carefully examined; thus these islands are of great interest to ethnology.51 The islands which lie to the west possess clearly defined totemism. On each island there are a few totemic clans, and the members of each clan have several (up to seven) totems; however, one of these is always the main totem. 52 The clans are attached to a given region, so that the members of each clan 145

Malinowski's early writings occupy a certain area of land; they are also exogamous; the totem is inherited along the male line, that is, the child always belongs to his father's clan. The clans are divided into two parts, one of which has land animals as totems, the other sea animals. Among the members of each clan, there is strict solidarity and friendship, and the rights of guests obligate not only the members living in the same region but also those coming from other islands, since one and the same clan can exist on several islands. The division into clans, the characteristics of the social functions of the clan, exogamy, and obligations to guests, representing the local character of the clan, all belong to the social aspect of totemism. What about the religious aspect, that is, what beliefs and ideas define man's relationship to his totem? The Cambridge ethnologists have uncovered a confirmation of the observation generally made, that strongly felt and deeply rooted convictions exist about the affinity between man and his totem. The sentence: 'Agud (the totem) just like a blood relative, belongs to the family', was often repeated by the natives, whenever there was talk of totemism. This near identificaiton of man with his totem is the object of a strong, common faith. The members of a clan feel and believe this relationship so strongly that the clans which have wild, rapacious animals as totems, such as the shark, crocodile, or snake, have the reputation of being wild and warlike, while the clans whose patrons are harmless animals, are peaceful. The natives also endeavour both to look outwardly like their totems and also to bind themselves with their totems with a mystic knot. Some carry a part of their totem with them, such as feathers or teeth, others burn, tattoo, or carve images or symbols of their totems onto their skin. The affinity or union with the totem may also express itself in the following way: that the natives, as far as is in their power, will not kill or eat their totem, and when they see someone else killing it, 'they mourn for it'. However, with few exceptions, this never approaches a cult to the totemic animals. Dr Haddon, who has conducted special research on the beliefs of these natives, remarks specifically that the totems have never become a religious cult. Animals belonging to the totemic species of a given clan were enveloped in special honour and care by the members of its clan, but it was rather an attitude of family sympathy and friendship than it was religious worship. On only one of the islands, for two totemic animals, were ceremonies observed similar to those described previously existing in the 146

Totemism and exogamy intichiuma ceremonies of central Australia. Periodically, every year when the turtle hunting season begins, the men of the turtle clan celebrate magic rites whose purpose is to increase the fertility of the turtle. This ceremony, which is quite simple in its execution, was not surrounded by any secrecy, nor was it restricted to men from the turtle clan. Similar rites were also celebrated by the men of the dugong clan, with the purpose of compelling this sea animal to swim to their island in greater numbers. In content these ceremonies represent the idea of man's union with his totem. As public and regular acts of the cult they are undoubtedly religious functions of the respective clans. The actual religious cult of the natives on these islands is directed toward the veneration of heroes or gods, who have, however, something of an animal character about them. On the island of Yam, there is a temple of two such heroes, two brothers; one has something of the nature of a crocodile, the other is part shark. Annual ceremonial dances are held in the temple, performed by men from the crocodile and shark clans, and the participants in these dances are assured of victory in battle. On another island (Mabuiag) the hero, Kwaian is venerated, who has no features of any animal and who is venerated by all clans. From the brief description given here of totemism in the Torres Straits Islands, it is immediately apparent that there are a number of analogies between the totemism of these islanders and the totemism of the central and northern Australian tribes. Both here and there the totemic clans possess a local character; they identify in a similar way with their totems, showing them a certain benevolence and respect, and on this basis abstain from destroying and consuming them. The clans in the Torres Straits Islands are exogamous just as they are among the tribes of northern Australia, but not among the tribes of central Australia. Perhaps the most interesting analogy is the existence in both of these ethnographic regions of magic rites performed by the members of the respective clan whose purpose is the increasing, relative strengthening, and luring of the totem (animal, plant, and in some cases even object). In addition to these common features, we may also examine the differences between totemism in Australia and in the Torres Straits Islands, even though the latter stand on a considerably higher cultural level.53 The peoples of central Australia have a richly developed system of tribal traditions, which possesses an 147

Malinowski's early writings important significance for the social structure of these peoples. The organization of the local group and its various functions, predominantly of a religious nature, are based upon these traditions. These traditions also define man's relationship to his totem (the belief that each is the incarnation of his totemic ancestor). The inhabitants of the Torres Straits Islands do not have such well-developed totemic traditions. Although Dr Haddon has gathered a great number of fables, tales, and traditions, we know of only a few legends with a genuine mythic character from the island of Yam island and from the island of Mabuiag, to which we have referred above when speaking of the hero cult. The Australian and Torres Straits Islands' legends present certain analogies; the latter are less well-developed, yet correspond to the former in their type of intellectual development. In both cases the legends are concerned with reforming heroes (in German this type is called the Kultur-Heroen), who are venerated and respected, and in Australia their works are even extolled and acted out. Frazer sees a fundamental difference between the cult of heroic ancestors in the Torres Straits Islands and the totemic cult in Australia, namely, that the former is a religious cult while the latter is a magic cult. However this opinion is worthless because it is based upon a very superficial and non-essential differentiation of religious phenomena from magic phenomena.54 As one of the more important differences, we can point out that the totemic, or animal character of the heroes of the Torres Straits Islands is not very explicit, and the hero, Kwaian, has nothing of an animal nature about him, while his veneration is not the exclusive property of any clan. In Australia the totemic cult reaches incomparably deeper into the substance of social life and is connected to a considerably greater number of social phenomena, and is thus more important for the sociologist. Aside from this, it is dependent and based on tribal traditions, and the heroes are always totemic ancestors, from whom the entire clan is descended. These alcheringa ancestors often have a dual character, as both reforming heroes and protoplasts of the clan. Their history exerts an influence on the Australian rites, particularly on the initiation of young men, and the intichiuma ceremony is closely connected to these corresponding myths. The heroes from the Torres Straits Islands do not have an ancestral character and are in no way connected to a clan; their veneration is not based on any totemic traditions, and in this way they also differ 148

Totemism and exogamy fundamentally from the Australian heroes. The unity of the Australian clan so strongly stressed in the traditions of the totemic cult, appears only very weakly in the island cult. Equally with respect to quantity as with respect to substance and social significance, the system of Australian legends is something fundamentally different from the tales in the islands. Such a strongly developed system of totemic legends, exerting such an important social influence cannot be found among any totemic peoples outside of Australia. In his description of the Torres Straits Islands, Professor Frazer does not speak at all about the problems of comparison mentioned here. He simply gives a description of the summarized facts and makes one observation: that the magic ceremonies of the turtle and the dugong correspond to the intichiuma ceremonies in Australia, yet he does not even examine how far this analogy reaches. The principal stand taken by Frazer is limited to the general observation that the cult of heroes from the islands of Yam and Mabuiag is a transitional form between a magic cult, as every totemic cult must be according to Frazer, and a religious cult. Whether or not this stand is correct, though mentioned only superficially by the author, will be shown in the analysis of Frazer's understanding of religion and magic conducted below. The enormous island of New Guinea, which neighbours the Torres Straits archipelago, possesses a culture similar to that which we have found in those islands.55 The western portion of New Guinea is inhabited by the Papuans, the eastern by Melanesian tribes; the centre is mountainous and not well known; pygmy tribes were recently discovered in only one of the places there. Totemism unquestionably exists in New Guinea, but the ethnology of the New Guinea tribes is so little known that we do not have a clear and accurate picture of the totemism of even one tribe. The population of the coastal districts is divided into totemic clans. Each clan lives together (but completely alone, cut off from all who do not belong to that clan) in long communal huts of the long, phalanstery type. This custom gives the clan an immensely cohesive character and changes it into a kind of extended family, into one organic whole which completely differentiates them from those peoples where the members of one clan are dispersed throughout the whole tribe and realize their unity only through special functions and under extraordinary circumstances. In the district of Mawatt, each clan possesses a main 149

Malinowski's early writings totem, usually an animal, and one or two minor totems, which are plants. The totemic taboo is very strictly observed, and often quarrels and battles occur between the natives if someone kills the totem of another. It is forbidden to kill or eat totemic animals, to build houses out of totemic trees and plants, to weave mats from them, to make utensils, or to eat their fruit. In the district of Mawatt, there are eighteen animal totems and ten plant totems, and in Kiwai, where the population's predominant occupation is farming, there are four animal and ten plant totems. We have little information in general about totemism among the New Guinea tribes and no particulars about ideas concerning man's relationship to the animals; we know of this relationship only from the totemic taboos and from man's attachment to his totem, and thus only from the external symptoms. The great chain of islands stretching in a great archipelago from the north-eastern shores of New Guinea up to New Zealand is inhabited by a population which constitutes quite an anthropologically and culturally homogeneous whole. Because of the dark complexion of its inhabitants, this chain of islands is called Melanesia. Frazer divides this entire great archipelago into four groups, each of which has a distinct totemic form. We encounter the most interesting and important phenomena in the southern group, especially in the Santa Cruz archipelago and in the Banks Islands.56 In the Reef Islands, belonging to the Santa Cruz archipelago, the population is divided into eight exogamous clans, and in each of them one or a few animals or objects are taboo, that is, forbidden. Each clan also has its own special name. The taboo animal is usually an edible sea animal, such as a turtle, eel, or various kinds of fish. It is an interesting fact that one of these clans observes a taboo against the turtle only in times of plague. Inhabitants of the Reef Islands have some sort of vague belief in their descent from the forbidden animals. In the Reef Islands, just as in Melanesia in general, club associations have blossomed, and each totemic clan possesses a common men's clubhouse. The observations of totemism in the Reef Islands made by Dr Rivers are probably adaptable to the entire Santa Cruz archipelago. On the island of Vanicolo lying to the south of Santa Cruz, there are ten clans, bearing the names of their totems. Six of these 150

Totemism and exogamy totems are ocean fish, which the members of the clan are forbidden to eat, and one is a grass on which it is forbidden to tread. The others are water, which they are forbidden to drink from certain springs, a type of bowl, in which they are forbidden to prepare food for eating, and fire, for which there is no taboo. They all trace their origin back to their totem, and so those who belong to fish clans trace their origin back to fish, members of the fire clan back to fire, probably volcanic, others to water, and those who have the bowl for their totem claim that they are descended from a child who once sailed to the island in just such a bowl. On the island of Efate, there are ten or more exogamous clans. Of these, eight have plant totems and two animal; all of these are edible, but whether or not there are any taboos assigned to them has not been established. Of immense importance and interest to totemism in general, especially to totemism as Frazer understood it, are the observations made by Dr Rivers on some of the islands in the Banks Island archipelago. On the island of Mota, there are people who are forbidden from eating certain animals or fruit, or to touch certain trees. The reason for such isolated cases of taboo is the belief that a given person is identical or at least closely related to a certain animal or plant, because its essences exerted a very strong influence on his mother when she was pregnant. It usually occurs in the following manner, the woman while walking in the forest or along the shore, notices some sort of plant or tiny animal in the folds of her clothing; she takes it with her, but after a certain period of time, that little essence vanishes, which means that it has entered into the woman which it had selected itself. Dr Rivers asserts that this is not a belief in physical impregnation, nor is it a notion that the animal enters the woman in its material form; such a tiny animal is something supernatural, the spirit of the animal, which, in a spiritual manner is incarnated in the woman. Usually the woman later performs some sort of household worship to the animal and builds it a stone chapel. Such facts as we have described above do not occur very often, but they always demonstrate a mixture of autosuggestion, reality, and tradition or, in other words, a mixture like that which is the basis of all folk beliefs. When Dr Rivers was researching the island of Mota, the following event was fresh in peoples' minds; a certain woman found a tiny animal on her person, so she 151

Malinowski's early writings took it to show to the people in the village, but when she opened her hands, there was no animal; and so it had succeeded in entering her along the short road. In spite of these beliefs, the physiological role of the father with respect to the child is well known, and the population knows that even in such supernatural incarnations, the participation of the father is also necessary, just as it is at those times when a child comes into the world without arousing the interest of any animal spirit in his person. For a child connected to an animal or plant, it is forbidden under penalty of death to eat the animal or fruit, or to touch the plant or tree. As a psychic motive for these prohibitions Dr Rivers asserts the disgust at eating something which is the same as that which is eating it, and is thus a form of cannibalism. From this we can see distinctly that here man is clearly identified with the animal or plant. This same basic view is also apparent in the belief that each man obtains certain psychic properties from his patron, animal or plant. The following animals evoke the traits listed below in the persons with whom they are connected: the sea snake and eel - slowness, weakness, and lack of energy; the hermit crab - a violent temper; the lizard gentleness and delicacy; the turkey - goodness; the wild Malaysian apple - great bellies; and the womara kuraquat - a gentle, good disposition. Women who desire to have a child of a certain character walk in the places where they may meet an animal of the disposition they wish for their progeny. These beliefs, concerning only some individuals, define the relationship of a man to the animal or plant on two basic points: taboo and similarity. They are also not hereditary. Comparing these facts with analogous beliefs of other peoples, we are struck by a great similarity between the facts described on the Banks Islands and those found in Australia, which are, however, noticeably less simple. The Australian concept of the spirit-child, which enters the woman in order to impregnate her, is very complicated and not altogether clear. Aside from this, the chain that links man with the animal is longer because in Polynesia the animal itself is joined directly to the woman, but in Australia the spiritchild is left by the alcheringa ancestors, who were half-human, half-animal, and so, in the chain between man and animal, there are two links. But with respect to their social character, there is a great difference between these two phenomena, because one plays a role only with some individuals but does not become basic 152

Totemism and exogamy to any social organization, and the other permeates the entire social organization and is the foundation of the entire structure. Dr Rivers expressed the view that if the Banks Islands totems, which are obtained in the manner we discussed above, were hereditary, totemism would still exist there. This scholar proceeds in this manner in spite of the fundamental evolutionary question: in what way can beliefs that are fundamental to the organization of the group arise from beliefs pertaining to separate individuals? Such totemism as we find in Australia is not the same as the faith of the inhabitants of the Banks Islands in connection with the principle of heredity. The fact that in one place the beliefs pertain only to individual persons and in the other to the whole group is not the only difference. The basic difference lies in the fact that in Australia totemism is a form of social organization which has its own dogmas, and thus the beliefs completely permeate the organization; while in the Banks Islands, where there is no organization, the beliefs are something fundamentally different from a sociological and psychological point of view. Here we have a basic sociological distinction. On one hand we have a dogmatic mythological system which is the basis for the highly important and complicated social organization, and on the other hand we have beliefs determining certain aspects of the behaviour of some persons with respect to a given animal or plant, and thus beliefs which do not even have universal features, which means that they cannot be considered a part of the social ethics. Therefore the assumption that the introduction of heredity into the facts connecting people with animals would create perfect totemism there is false. Bringing the concepts and beliefs of the aborigines into our scheme, we may say that in the Banks Islands totemism exists exclusively in its religious aspect. But at the same time, we see that it is the beliefs themselves which are so strongly differentiated, with respect to sociology, from those beliefs connected to a social organization, and so we may gain a theoretical advantage by limiting the concept of totemism to this latter state of affairs and say that in the instances we have just described there is no totemism. Frazer does not discuss this at all; he considers these beliefs, about which we have just spoken, to be totemism. There is still another fact important for an understanding of the psychological basis for totemism, to which the illustrious ethnographer of the Melanesians, Bishop Codrington, has attributed a very general 153

Malinowski's early writings and important significance. We are dealing here with some sort of a reversal of totemic beliefs, with types of beliefs that are, after all, quite widespread over the earth, about those beliefs which we call 'metapsychoses'. The inhabitants of the southern group of Melanesian islands believe that the souls of the great chiefs and leaders of their tribes become some sort of plant or animal after death. The species of such an animal or plant then becomes a buto for the specific region or tribe and is taboo to them. Thus the connection between this group of people and the species of these beings is not based on the belief that the animal is embodied in the man, but rather the other way around, on the conviction that the human soul passes into the animal or plant. These beliefs are not based on mythical events and metapsychoses of ancestors, and thus they are not merely legends, but quite the contrary, they are a reality which happened and still happens, on the island of Florida within recent memory of its population, there was an instance of the passing of a powerful chiefs soul into a banana tree. The inhabitants' cognisance of this fact is based on the following: the dying leader foretold the return of his soul and its incarnation in the banana tree. On the Solomon Archipelago there are six exogamous clans, each of which has one or more taboo objects, which it is forbidden for them to eat or touch. These forbidden entities are closely connected to the ancestors of the clan; for what holds sway here is the conviction, widespread in Melanesia that we have just mentioned, that an illustrious man changes into an animal or plant, and in that manner this entity becomes taboo for his descendants. Northern Melanesia, which the Germans presently call the Bismarck Archipelago, is composed of two great islands, New Britain and New Ireland, and of the smaller Duke of York Island. The population of these islands is composed of several tribes, and each tribe is divided into two sections or exogamous clans. Each pair of these sections or clans possesses its own patrons, and these, depending on the tribe, are either two insects, two birds, or two mythical beings. One of these entities is the personification of good, the other of evil. The members of the clan show their patrons great respect, and everything that exists in nature is subservient to and classified according to these two entities. Feelings of close solidarity so unite the members of the clan that even in battles between two different tribes, members of the same section avoid each other. Division of tribes into two great exogamous 154

Totemism and exogamy groups is quite widespread throughout the entire world. It has a completely different sociological character than the division into a great number of clans, as we find in the totemic clans of central Australia and in the Torres Straits. In these sections, only exogamy remains as the single and most important trait of the social functions of these totemic clans. The relationship of such a section to its animal patron is very vague and lacks the fundamental features of totemism, especially taboos pertaining to its patron. In addition, there are no beliefs concerning the connection between man and his totem. It is possible, after all, that we merely lack information about these facts, but in general the totemism of the phratry, that is, of the two sections or clans into which the whole tribe is divided, seems to be a less distinct form in which the connection between the clan and the totem is only weakly indicated. In the lesser archipelagoes of northern Melanesia (the Admiralty Islands, the islands of Tang and Aneri), clans exist with totems that are primarily animal, and which on the islands of Tang and Aneri are taboo. On the Admiralty Islands such close solidarity reigns over the members of the clan that they do not fight or even rob one another. The Melanesians are significantly outdone with regard to culture by the inhabitants of Polynesia, those small islands scattered in several archipelagoes throughout the central Pacific Ocean. These islanders, lost amid the huge expanse of ocean surrounding them, have developed certain aspects of their social life to a very high level as well as certain cultural activities, art in particular.57 On almost every archipelago we find beliefs and arrangements with certain similarities to totemism; however, we encounter totemism most explicitly on the islands of Samoa, where an interesting form of cults exists dedicated to gods of an animal or vegetable nature. These gods are of two kinds, one kind are individual or family gods, for each family venerates the patron of the father of the family; and the other are gods local to a given village or region. Let us begin with the personal gods, who are also the family gods of a given man. Each man has his own god or guardian spirit, which he receives at birth. As a child comes into the world, his father prays and calls on the help of a spirit. If the delivery is difficult and one spirit does not help, he calls upon the aid of another, and even a third. Because the father always calls 155

Malinowski's early writings upon the aid of his own guardian spirit first, and only later on his wife's or still another, the cult is thus usually hereditary along the male line, occasionally, however, along the female line. Each god or guardian spirit is closely associated with some sort of animal or, more rarely, a plant, and at times an object or class of objects; each has a name such as Child of the Moon, Red Liver, or another of this sort. The totems with which these gods are associated are, for example, the moon, the centipede, the wild dove, ends of leaves, the eel, the octopus, the crab, turtle, the sea eel, the lizard, domestic birds, and many fish and sea animals. With few exceptions, all of the totems cited by Frazer are edible plants or animals. Frazer mentions twenty deities, and each of these has one or a few totemic incarnations. These incarnations are the object of worship, and an entire system of prohibitions (taboos) concerning them as well. However, the taboo as well as the cult always apply to the totemic incarnations of these gods. The moon is the object of no prohibition, but in certain areas the people who have it for a totem do pray to it. It is absolutely forbidden to eat the totemic animals, and whoever has the ends of leaves as a totem must cut off the ends of grasses and vegetables before he uses them as food. Those who have the sting ray as the incarnation of their god protect it and try to free it even when it is caught by others. Each family prays to its god; the father of the family usually conducts prayers in the evening, sometimes arranging a domestic festival in honour of the god who sometimes speaks through the mouth of his priest, the father of the family. Some totems, such as the centipede and the eel, are known to bring comforts and aid in sickness. The taboo against eating them is always strictly observed; it holds sway because of the conviction that the breaking of the taboo brings on serious illness. However, if someone is found to have broken the taboo and admits the transgression, in order to help him in his danger and to protect him from the consequences of his sin, he is placed in an oven, and they pretend to bake him. Among the Samoans, along with the family gods, there exist gods and guardian spirits protecting the villages. Each place has such a god, who has a feast day dedicated to him, and is worshipped through a regular cult from a special priest, who prays and makes sacrifices. But, to a certain extent the village patron also possesses animal or plant characteristics, and the animal or plant with which the given god is associated is also holy and untouch156

Totemism and exogamy able for the inhabitants of the village. Examples of such totems are: the sea eel, the lizard, lightning, clouds, the conch, the mussel, the bat, and several species of fish. Some gods were incarnated as certain stones, others as mythical figures, and one was a legendary cannibal. Some village gods are identical with family gods and have the same incarnations, although one god may have a few incarnations. Totemic animals and plants are always taboo, and eating them brings on serious illness. The inhabitants of the entire village mourn the death of such an animal. The village gods have their own feast days and priests, and they accept sacrifices. Sacrifices are also made to the gods incarnated as stones, in order to procure fair weather from them. Other gods are considered to be the makers of rain, favourable fishing, yams, breadfruit, coconuts, etc. Some totems such as clouds, lightning, and lizards, serve as oracles, but gods of an entirely different category also serve the function of oracles, the war-gods, usually incarnated as birds. Also, at the beginning of a war campaign, the Samoans read their future success from the flight of birds. This quick sketch of Samoan beliefs, in relation to the definition of totemism and the scheme given above, clearly shows that the beliefs on the islands of Samoa are a distinct form of totemism, with a well denned range of social influences. Man's relationship to his totem is not susceptible to definition by any system of legends, nor is there a belief in any given group's descent from a totem. On the other hand, both for the family and the village totem, this relationship determines the entire system of taboos, the regret the members of a clan show towards their slain animal, the help which they give it, and how the worship, prayers, and sacrifices given to the totem are transferred to the gods. The totemic affiliation of the members of the broadest group (the village) underscores the fact of one's birth in that village, and so the clans are local, and the principle of membership is completely straightforward. These same sort of local clans are found in central Australia based on an immensely complicated system of beliefs and legends. The totem of the family members is determined by heredity, limited to a certain degree by the accidental course of the delivery. The social functions of the group associated with the totem are quite narrow, depending exclusively on the religious cult. These functions are more specialized, more differentiated, and, in this, better denned in regard 157

Malinowski's early writings to their social significance, than the corresponding totemic functions in central Australia. In Australia the totemic cult, also a form of religion, contains almost the entire public life of the tribe within it, while in Samoa a number of public functions exist which have nothing in common with religion or totemism. Here the sociological character of totemism is quite well modified by the fact that the totemic clans are not special units, but are overlaid either onto the family or onto the unit of locality, the village. As for the character of the totem itself, Turner and Frazer, following Turner's example, always refer to it using the word 'god' and speaks of its incarnation in animals or plants. However, from their descriptions, it is clear that this 'god' does not exist at all apart from its incarnations, in fact, only its name retains any independence, for it is the only thing that does not express its animal nature. All rules of behaviour, all beliefs, and the entire system of ethics and dogmatics pertain to the totemic figure of the deity. Thus, as a form of religion it is undoubtedly a totemism, in which the totem always possesses both an animal and a human form, which, after all, is a common manifestation of totemism. However, Professor Frazer does not apply the name 'totemism' to these Samoan beliefs and arrangements. He writes, From the foregoing summary it appears plainly that the Samoan worship of animals, plants and other natural objects was not pure totemism. For in pure totemism there is nothing that can properly be described as worship of the totems. Sacrifices are not presented to them, nor prayers offered, nor temples built, nor priests appointed to minister to them. In a word, totems pure and simple are never gods, but merely species of natural objects united by certain intimate and mystic ties to groups of men. But in the Samoan system the worshipful beings are clearly gods. The people pray and sacrifice to them, hold festivals in their honour, build temples and maintain priests for their worship . . . It is a reasonable hypothesis that this affinity with natural objects and particularly with species of animals is a survival of totemism; in other words that the Samoan gods, or most of them, have developed directly from totems. This understanding seems unsatisfactory to us. Why should a totem stop being a totem the moment that we offer it worship, build temples, establish altars, and make sacrifices to it? A precise definition of a complicated and multi-faceted phenomenon like totemism may only be made a posteriori on the basis of the acquaintance with, and the analysis of, the entire series of 158

Totemism and exogamy totemic systems, but it is not permissible for the author, almost at the beginning of his examination of the relevant facts and without a deeper justification, to impose some sort of a priori limits on the discussion of the phenomenon, and to assert that totemism is not allowed to possess certain features. Still another question suggests itself: Do the features mentioned by Frazer reach so deeply into the essence of the phenomenon that they may serve as criteria for a fundamental sociological classification? We may only comprehend Frazer's understanding on the grounds of his general views on the essence of religion and magic. For he considers the cult, worship, sacrifices, temples, and prayers to be the fundamental indicators for differentiating religion from magic. He also denies totemism the name religion and considers it to be a form of magic exclusively. Because the question of the difference between religion and magic is very important for understanding the essence of totemism, and because Frazer's views on the question seem to me to be entirely in error, I would like to discuss this matter more closely, even though Frazer analyzes it at great length not in his treatise on totemism, but in his work, The Golden Bough, which is presently issued in three editions, and seven volumes have made their appearance so far. In defining the phenomena of religion and magic, Frazer begins with an analysis of the essence of magic and then points out on what the difference between magic and religion is based. According to Frazer the essence of magic can be grasped in two basic laws, 'first that like produces like, or that an effect resembles its cause; and second, that things which have once been in contact with each other continue to act on each other at a distance after the physical contact has been severed'.58 From the first of these principles, the Law of Similarity, the sorcerer concludes that he may call forth any effect he desires, merely by imitating this effect, and from the second principle he concludes that whatever he does to an object, which was once in contact with a given person or was a part of his body (hair, fingernails), that person will feel as if it was done to himself.59 Frazer asserts that, 'magic is a spurious system of natural law as well as a fallacious guide of conduct; it is a false science as well as an abortive art'.60 Later he says, 'its [magic's] two great principles turn out to be merely two different misapplications of the association of ideas'.61 It is difficult to agree with this analysis of the psychic processes 159

Malinowski's early writings from which magic draws its juices. Sorcery, whether it be among primitive peoples or among those more highly developed, is not merely pure theoretical speculation. Into its composition enter a great number of factors of an emotional nature, which cannot be reduced to an association of ideas nor to purely mental processes.62 But we are presently concerned not so much with the psychological foundations of magic as with its relation to religion. 'By religion, then', says Frazer, 'I understand propitiation or conciliation of powers superior to man which are believed to direct and control the course of nature and of human life. Thus denned, religion consists of two elements, a theoretical and a practical, namely, a belief in powers higher than man and an attempt to propitiate or please them'.63 The practical element may be either a ritual or an ethic.64 Defining religion in this manner 'assumes that the course of nature is to some extent elastic or variable, and that we can persuade or induce the mighty beings who control it to deflect, for our benefit, the current of events from the channel in which they would otherwise flow'.65 And here lies precisely the difference between magic and religion, for the 'elasticity or variability of nature is directly opposed to the principles of magic as well as of science, both of which assume that the processes of nature are rigid and invariable . . . For conciliation is never employed towards things which are regarded as inanimate, nor toward persons whose behaviour in the particular circumstances is known to be determined with absolute certainty'. 66 The author, to be sure, concedes that in many instances magical practices are directed toward controlling and forcing spirits and even gods to do certain deeds, but he considers this to be a confusion in the practice of these two elements, which in their essence are fundamentally different and which must be precisely distinguished in thought. Amid the numerous examples that Frazer cites to explain the nature of magic beliefs, what are important for us are the intichiuma ceremonies, which in the present article are counted as belonging to the practices of a religious cult, but which Frazer regards as a typical form of sorcery.67 We will return to this subject later. Let us now present our criticisms of Frazer's views on religion and sorcery, that is, on magic. At first glance his theories somehow do not provide a strict determination of what is the essence 160

Totemism and exogamy of the entire complex of magical and religious phenomena, containing, at least, a clear, consistent, and strict differentiation between these two areas. Moreover, upon closer examination there is little we can accept in his theories. I have mentioned above that the definition of magic, as a world view, which assumes the existence of unchangeable laws of nature, is false. This approach stands in contradiction at the same time both to the basic character of primitive thought and to the basic feature of magic, which depends on the indistinguishability of that which is permanent and unchangeable in nature from that which can be controlled by man's will and endeavours. However, we will not concern ourselves with the very general and basic considerations of primitive man's psychology, or even with man's psychology in general, for there is probably no mind which has developed entirely above prejudice and whose actions were never directed by superstition and magic. Another reason why Frazer's theory cannot be accepted is his definition of the nature of the entire complex of magico-religious phenomena, which is implicitly contained in the passages quoted, and still another reason are his criteria for differentiating religion from magic. If we carefully examine the essence of these criteria, we will find that the difference is determined by the psychic attitude which a man takes toward the object of the cult, that is, whether he regards that object as something personal and conscious, or impersonal and unconscious. This attitude is the expression of immensely complicated psychic processes, for whose determination we would have to know a number of ideas and emotional and subjective factors. Science aspires, as it should, toward objectivity, and so such a movement of the basic criteria of classification in the direction of the most complicated, most subjective, and most elusive psychic states must be considered a basic fault. Even when we consider the religion of a believing individual of a higher culture, his basic attitude toward his deity and his concept of that deity's being varies over an immense range. Even according to dogmatic philosophizing, God may be apprehended once in a strictly personal, anthropomorphic way, and another time as an impersonal absolute, subject to necessity and by no means directing the world at will in an elastic course. If we take several people belonging to the same religion, but differing in their degree of culture, the imprecision of Frazer's classification would immediately appear. If a Calabrian villager 161

Malinowski's early writings thrashes a statue of a saint or a madonna with a cane because it did not listen to his prayers and, in punishing it for the error, tries to insure for himself more favourable action in the future, then does that villager stand in a religious or a magic relationship to his deity? The procedure he uses to reach these goals does not 'express a penitent attitude begging for help', nor does it express the important part of the features which Frazer ascribes to the religious world view. In this case, it is just as difficult to find the theoretical aspect of religion, the 'belief in powers higher than man' as it is to find its practical aspect, 'the attempt to propitiate or please' these powers. To be sure, Frazer himself mentions examples of sorcery which have deeply taken root in the faith and practices of the Christian church, but his ascertaining of this difficulty and attempt to defuse it do not stand up to criticism. Frazer's differentiation leads to insurmountable difficulties because it is grounded in areas where definitions are not possible, and also because at the heart of the same system of beliefs and practices we can deal with phenomena as religious at one time, and as magic at another. The first of these difficulties becomes clearer as we descend lower on the ladder of cultural evolution. It is extremely difficult to determine, even approximately, the inner attitude of even our own peasant with regard to the object of his cult. For the same reasons it is an absolute impossibility in the case of a savage. We are almost completely confused by his psychology when it comes to its deeper, more essential concepts, and there is no agreement even on this most general question: does the savage mind possess basic features in common with ours, and is it possible for us to understand precisely and to reproduce for ourselves the outline of his method of thinking?68 And so, there can be no talk of being able to get to the bottom of the most hidden, most complicated and subjective states of the savage. The observers most closely acquainted with a given tribe are not even in a position to do this; so much the less can we expect this in ethnological observations made by fits and starts without sufficient knowledge of the population and without theoretical preparation. Frazer's classification is useless even for ethnology, for its criteria are hidden from observation even under the best of circumstances. And definitions useful for ethnology must be based on objective, concrete facts which may be easily observed. 162

Totemism and exogamy But, as we have seen earlier, Frazer's definition possesses one very basic methodological flaw. On the basis of his definition, the given system of beliefs can be classified as religious or magical depending on whether we see it reflected in the psychology of one individual or another. We may formulate this objection in the following manner, that Frazer, in his definition of the entire complex of magico-religious phenomena, has psychological phenomena before his eyes, not sociological facts. Glancing at Frazer's passage about religion, which is quoted above, we can easily see that in order to classify certain phenomena according to Frazer's theory, it is completely unnecessary to address the social aspect of these phenomena; it is sufficient to reflect on their content, on the type of ideas contained in them. It is true that in many places in his work, Frazer mentions sociological facts which express the difference between religion and magic.69 According to this assertion, the constituent parts of religion are: the priestly institution, sacrifice, and prayer; the following belong to magic: the sorcerer, ritual, and incantation. But the movement of the criteria into the realm of objective social phenomena here is completely feigned; the difference between a priest and a sorcerer, according to Frazer, is based on the following: that the former entreats a personal deity and the latter coerces impersonal magic powers. It is likewise impossible to draw a boundary line between a sacrifice and a ritual, based on something given, external, and objective. The criterion also rests here on the attitude or intention of the man performing the said act. In Frazer's differentiation, prayer is humble begging and incantation is a haughty order. Here it is even more evident that little can be said on the basis of external objective characteristics and that only the unravelling of intricate inner processes can provide some sort of definite answer, insofar as such an answer is possible. Frazer just does not take sociological criteria into account at all, and this is a fundamental error. Religion is just as much a form of social organization as it is a collection of beliefs, and the latter is conditioned in each man by his living together with other members of a society. If, in defining religious phenomena, we only consider the reflection of beliefs in people's souls, the definition will necessarily be contradictory and false. A definition of religion, though it be superficial, is all the more necessary at this time, because in this article totemism is grasped 163

Malinowski's early writings as a religious system, and only with an understanding of what we mean by religion as a background can this concept of totemism be understood. Psychological concepts cannot serve to define religion and its relationship to magic. Undoubtedly, religion is the product of the basic possessions of the human soul. Man constantly finds himself in a completely helpless situation in relation to the world around him. Everywhere, man's aspirations and most passionate desires are shattered on the absolutely rigid barriers of necessity, and in his destiny, man - no matter on what cultural level or at what stage of individual evolution he may find himself- must face the basic denial of those purposes for which his entire being seems to have been created. On the other hand, man, amidst the threat of the external world, perceives a punishment for his own offences, sees the effects of the imperfection of his own actions, which were to protect him from blame and punishment from the secret and vindictive powers which surround him everywhere. But, although the sources of this human creation lie in the individual soul and may only be understood from personal experience and living through it, the results are the product of the labour of generations crystallized into sociological and objective works. Man hands his experiences in these matters down to others, and the fruit of the experiences of numerous generations and centuries piles up in a way common to all acquisitions of human culture, and crystallizes into great religious systems, which every society, even the most savage, possesses, and which play a prominent sociological role in each. In each of these systems we may differentiate two aspects, on one hand the collection of beliefs, legends and ritual acts by which man tries to enter into a union with the 'supernatural' powers of the world and tries, in a ritual and solemn way, to govern with these powers; on the other hand, norms of behaviour closely and organically connected to the beliefs and acts of the cult. But religious acts are not social exclusively and only for the reason that all achievements of culture exist in society and through society. They also have a social character because the fulfillment of the religious acts and ordinances is something compulsory over whose execution society keeps watch. Religion deals with the most vital of human interests, since it deals with maintaining the relationship with the supernatural powers on which man's fate depends both here and after death. 164

Totemism and exogamy Furthermore, because the feelings of solidarity and mutual responsibility among members of a group in regard to these powers are very strongly developed - even more so the lower the level of culture - man's position with respect to religion is thus not left to his own will and acknowledgement. Practising the ordinances of religion, as well as the acts of the cult and the fulfillment of ethical norms, are obligations over whose fulfillment the public watches and to which the individual is compelled. This aspect of religion comes out more strongly, the distant we become from the contemporary conception of religion as a purely individual matter, as a question of the salvation of one's soul. The gods of primitive people, who have a noticeably more collective world view and who punish the whole group for the sins of individuals, avenge themselves on families, destroy cities, and exterminate whole tribes. This is also why the group must watch after its own interests lest any of its members offend the deity, whether it be by ignoring the obligations of the cult, or by not behaving according to the moral ordinances. The watchword, a free conscience, is a very new discovery, and for the majority of people, for whom religion is their foremost public obligation, such a watchword would seem a fundamental paradox. We must also not forget that the road from political watchword to sociological fact is very long! Religion, as a social term for all of man's transactions with the supernatural world, also permeates every section of social life, the more broadly the further we descend toward primitive peoples. For savage man does not distinguish everyday things from the supernatural so clearly and at every opportunity is ready to pacify the higher powers to allow him 'our daily bread' and many other everyday necessities. And thus do religious ideas permeate almost all vital and important social acts. They provide a framework and a polish to everything important in the eyes of man, for the powers from the other world guide all these things according to their will. On the other hand, alongside of the acts of the cult, there are ethical norms which are closely bound to them. They are also compulsory, bound to the social organization and conceived of as an organic whole. Just as the acts of the cult must represent a unity - undoubtedly not a logical but an organic unity, according to its dogmatic logic - so must the ethical norms be gathered into 165

Malinowski's early writings some kind of whole and be connected to the dogmatic system and to the cult. For both the ethical norms and the acts of the cult concern the same powers and strive toward the same goal; thus they must possess internal consistency with respect to this common goal. As for religious norms, we must note that since these norms exist for the purpose of protecting the people through these higher beings, the sanction for these norms is, because of their nature, primarily supernatural. Offences automatically draw a punishment from the hands of the higher powers, and, although society can punish the sinner by its own hand, the first and highest sanction, that which differentiates the ethical ordinances from the legal, is supernatural. Obviously, as I have mentioned above, the lower we descend on the cultural ladder, and the more primitive the people with whom we have to deal, the more distinctively will both sanctions appear parallel and of equal importance. Nevertheless, the religious norms differ from the purely legal norms in that, with the former, as well as social sanctions, there also exist automatic supernatural sanctions. Taking the above into consideration, we can state the following as a short definition: we will call religion any collection of beliefs and practices referring to supernatural powers and bound into an organic system, which are expressed in social life by a series of acts of a cult which is systematic, public, obligatory and based on tradition (mythological in lower societies and teleological-dogmatic in the higher), and is also expressed by a series of norms of behaviour also defined by tradition, closely connected to the dogmas of the cult and possessing supernatural sanctions as well as social ones. The criteria for defining religion in this manner lie in social, objective facts, and therefore they are easily accessible to close observation, even among savage peoples. Such a definition of religion is undoubtedly very general and can even appear to be an overgeneralization, especially in comparison to Frazer's immensely concrete definition. But it is precisely in defining such general and fundamental phenomena like religion that it is necessary to keep them in adequately wide frameworks. Religion is a phenomenon permeating all aspects of the human soul; this many-sidedness is also reflected in its sociological manifestations, and so it is impossible to establish farreaching limitations in defining religion. On the other hand, religion contains its own peculiar factors 166

Totemism and exogamy which cannot be broken down into simpler elements and which are thus indefinable. An example of one of these is the concept of the 'supernatural' world, which we include in the definition of religion. The general definition of religion should only point out the path on which we must seek religious phenomena; a closer definition of such basic phenomena can only be given by enumerating facts. We must only be wary of a priori limitations, artificial constructions, and especially of controlling the research done in the field of facts, which Frazer's definition undoubtedly does. But let us now try to apply our definition of religion to the facts known to us of the life of savage people. First of all we see that Australian totemism is a form of religion, for it possesses a system of organically connected traditions permeating the whole social organization (the organization of the local group, the totemic clan, and the exogamous section). The public, obligatory, and regular cult (the intichiuma ceremonies and those related to it) is also based on these traditions. The traditions are the background on which all of the important acts of the Australians' life take place, the initiation of young men as well as the funeral ceremony, for everything is always connected within the same system of beliefs and totemic traditions of the alcheringa ancestors. The totemic norms, the principal taboos, are all justified traditionally: because the ancestors behaved in such a manner, it is necessary to behave the same way now, or else, at other times, in just the opposite manner - the logic of the myth and tradition is not unequivocally determined. In the beliefs of the Samoans we find a completely analogous state of affairs. If we should now wish to apply Frazer's theory to the Australian and Samoan totemic facts, we would meet with unconquerable difficulties. In the intichiuma ceremonies, songs are sung relating the history of the ancestors. According to Frazer, are such songs prayers or incantations? Everywhere, in many other religions and in our own, religious songs exist relating events in the lives of saints and great persons in the church; however, even on the basis of Frazer's criteria, no one could consider these songs to be magic incantations. In order to reckon the Australian songs among magic incantations, as Frazer does, we would have to attribute immensely complicated and subtle differentiations to these savage songs, for which we have no 167

Malinowski's early writings evidence and which the most expert observer could not accomplish. It is still necessary to add a few words about the difference between religion and magic. Alongside of those beliefs, grasped in an organic whole, in which tradition is united to the cult and to ethics by indissoluble knots, there exist several loose beliefs, handed down by tradition, in which not all people believe, and they only comply with these beliefs under certain conditions. We call these beliefs superstitions, and the practice of sorcery, and the collection of these beliefs and practices we call magic. Magic practices are not based on social organization, are not compulsory, and are not joined into an organic whole with the cult and the ethics. The purpose of these observations, whose justification and proof would require an entire treatise, is merely to record the standpoint taken in this article on that question. We do not provide a definition of magic, for it is not the task of the present article. It is all the more dispensable because we can draw on the excellent article of Hubert and Mauss on magic (see below) in dealing with this question. In general, though not laid out in its entirety, the standpoint taken here corresponds to a certain degree with the views of Durkheim, Hubert, and Mauss (Annee Sociologique, vols. II—VIII. Durkheim's articles on the definition of religious phenomena, Hubert's and Mauss's on the general theory of magic). The ethnological material on which these studies are based was drawn from the lengthy works of Frazer. In our continuing survey of totemic phenomena, we must pass over, or mention only cursorily, those peoples among whom, either because of their chronological isolation, or because of their germinal form, their totemism is less suited to be grasped in a concise sketch. In the Sunda archipelago, we encounter totemic phenomena among the interesting Batt people on the island of Sumatra.70 These aborigines, who have a rather high level of culture, practise cannibalism in spite of this, and have a totemic organization. They are divided into clans, each of which is associated with some sort of animal or plant, whose destruction or eating is forbidden to members of the clan. These prohibitions are motivated by traditions about the clan's descent from totemic animals or plants, or also by the belief that men's souls pass into the given totem after death, or finally by legends that an ancestor of the clan received some sort of blessing from a given animal. 168

Totemism and exogamy The defined functions of the clan are: a feeling of solidarity among the members, an obligation to help one another, and exogamy. We encounter totemism among still other Indonesian peoples in addition to the Batts. Among the Dravidian peoples inhabiting the mountainous and wooded interior of the Hindustani peninsula, we also find arrangements and beliefs of a distinctly totemic character. Unfortunately, the details of this totemism are very little known. Frazer provides a number of descriptions, but they are not much more than lists of totems, among which there are relatively very many plants. These are taboo, and the savages also show them certain veneration; it is forbidden to touch them or even to look at them, and some animals have a cult of members from their clan.71 We will have to deal a little more extensively with the totemic phenomena in Africa; such phenomena are quite widespread, and in some cases they have distinct and characteristic forms about which we possess reliable information.72 Frazer ascertains totemism more or less clearly delineated among three groups of African peoples, in the Bantu race living in southern Africa, among the Bantus of central and eastern Africa, and among the pure Negroes of the western coast. Let us begin with the Bantu peoples of southern Africa; totemism exists among the numerous tribes of the Herero or Damara, in which domestic cattle play an important role, corresponding to the pastoral nature of the tribe. Two forms of clans exist among them. In one of these, the clans are very social in character; there are no totemic prohibitions, no special insignia designating a union with the totem and membership in the clan, nor ideas of kinship or union between totem and man. These clans are associated with the sun, the rain, springs, bushes, trees, etc.; there are no animals among the totems. The legends assert only a loose connection between totem and members of the clan. And so, for example, the clans of the sun and the rain say that there were three sisters, who were to go to a funeral; because the sun was shining terribly strongly, one sister did not go to the funeral, but the two others did. The clan which descended from those two sisters is associated with the sun; the clan which descended from the sister who remained has rain as its totem. These clans are not local and are scattered throughout the whole tribe. Inheritance follows the female line; in other words, it always remains in the mother's clan. These clans are exogamous. 169

Malinowski's early writings Aside from these, there exist native clans of a much more clearly marked totemic character. Membership in these clans is hereditary along the male line; thus in this system the child belongs to the father's clan. Again, very few animals figure among the objects for which the clans are named. Nevertheless, each clan possesses a taboo, chiefly referring to cattle. Members are forbidden to eat specially marked cattle, possessing a certain shape of horn or skin colour; they are forbidden from using the milk from some cows and from using the skins of these cattle as clothes. It is also important, from an economic point of view, that the taboo also includes a ban on keeping and raising the given cattle. Among the Bechuans, also a pastoral people, the majority of clans are named after animals. Yet, their pastoral manner of living has had no evident influence on their totemic structure, for, among their totems, there are no domestic cattle. Their clans are local. The totem of each clan is taboo; it is forbidden to eat or use it for clothing, and even to look at or touch it. The members of each clan perform a dance and sing songs in honour of their totem, but they do not perform any rituals or make sacrifices. The clan of the crocodile considers that animal to be their father and chief, and they always show it veneration. The members of this clan are forbidden to look at the crocodile, and if someone is bitten by one of these beasts or splashed with water that a crocodile scatters with his tail, the man gains a reputation of disgrace and must go into exile. Members of the porcupine clan protect it and express grief and regret if someone kills this animal. The meat of the animal is taboo, and transgression would occasion the inevitable death of the transgressor. For killing a lion the members of its clan must render expiation; for, otherwise, they would lose their sight. They neither eat its meat nor wear its skin. Likewise, the members of the buffalo and ibex clans do not eat the meat or use the hide of these animals. The iron clan does not work this metal; and the clan of the hoe uses that tool only for indispensable functions. Of theoretical importance is the distinct influence of the pastoral occupations of the Herero on their totemism. The fact of the dual system of their clans, and the local character of clans among the Bechuans, which clans coincide with the tribes, demonstrates that these clans are not something well-defined with respect to their social morphology, instead the forms they 170

Totemism and exogamy take change over a broad range. We must also note that the Herero's legends about the origins of the clans are of an entirely different sort than the totemic traditions of the Oceanic and Australian peoples. The stories of the Herero are simply fables which should and could explain how the clans arose, to satisfy a somewhat theoretical interest. But it is apparent from their content that they cannot exert any influence on the cult because they do not relate sacred or important events, which could be imitated in religious rites. Nor can they become the basis for ethics because the events related in them do not refer to areas in which the behaviour of traditional heroes could serve as an archetype. And so it is evident that on the basis of the content of these traditions alone we can rule out their having any mythic character, in the strict sense of the word, by which we understand legends exerting an important social influence on the cult and its ethics. Among the people of the Bantu race inhabiting central and eastern Africa, totemism has considerably more interesting forms and plays a more important role in the social mechanism. It will be best to choose one from among the numerous tribes which Frazer describes, namely the one about which we know the most and whose beliefs are probably typical of the totemism of this branch of the Bantus. The Baganda nation, inhabiting the kingdom of Uganda, is culturally and anthropologically the highest representative of the Bantu race. The political structure of this country, the culture and their personal virtues place them indisputably higher than the numerous bordering tribes, and also than the Bantu of other parts of Africa. We possess excellent information about them thanks to the works of numerous researchers, in the foreground to the recently published observations of the English missionary, Rev. J. Roscoe, who has also placed a large amount of additional material at Professor Frazer's disposal in addition to this.73 Frazer gives a colourful description of the beautiful and fertile country of Uganda, of the high level of land cultivation, which depends primarily on banana plantations, of the beautifully built houses, picturesquely scattered villages and nets of roads which connect all parts of the country, often crossing inaccessible swamps several English miles in length. The Baganda possess a highly developed handicraft industry, and they distinguish themselves personally in dexterity and intelligence. Their form of govern171

Malinowski's early writings ment is a monarchy with an extraordinarily well developed courtly ceremonialism. The population is divided into a number of totemic clans. Each of these is exogamous; they are motivated to forbid marriage within the clan by the fact that all women belonging to the clan are sisters. The members of the clan are forbidden from eating totemic animals or plants; this is enforced by the conviction that transgressing this prohibition would cause serious illness or even death. The members of the clan feel and are obligated to strict solidarity. Each clan possesses its own domain, dispersed throughout various parts of the country. Usually, the chief, the 'Father' of the clan, sits on the best of these pieces of land. Totemic legends and traditions, referring to the rising and origins of the clan and to the prohibitions against eating the totems, are not of an ancestral nature. There are no notions of common descent from ancestors of an animal or plant nature. In general, the entire mythology of the Baganda refers to the times of King Kintu, under whose leadership, as the legend goes, they were to enter and conquer their present fatherland, to create a social organization, and to establish the kingdom of Buganda. Thus, the legends of totemism state that in the times of this King Kintu there were few animals, and in order to spare them, clans were forbidden from eating certain types, at the same time holding to these, one might say, hygienic principles: if the given food did not suit the members of a certain clan, it became taboo for them, and at the same time this species of animal or plant also became the totem of the given clan from that time on. Among the Baganda totemism possesses a considerably better developed social aspect than a religious aspect. Each clan, apart from having its own domain, which in some way provides it with an economic basis, performs a number of specific social functions, mainly in the political life which is concentrated around the king's court. However, there is almost no cult of the totems, and alongside of totemism there exist other forms of belief which possess cults and ethics. J. Roscoe, who has recently studied this people, makes another interesting observation referring, one might say, to the physiology of totemism: each clan has its distinct physical type by which one can recognize at first glance to which clan a man belongs. This is all the more strange since membership in the clan is inherited through the father, not the mother, and since the clans are exogamous so that in a given clan 172

Totemism and exogamy all the mothers must come from other clans. Frazer tries to explain this fact, which is extremely strange and even improbable, but which is nevertheless presented by an intelligent and conscientious researcher, by reference to the influence which her surroundings exert on a woman before and during pregnancy. Since from her youth a woman in Uganda goes into the clan of her future husband, this clan's type is impressed most strongly onto her imagination, and during pregnancy it forms the features and proportions of the child. Whether this explanation can be accepted, or even whether the observation we have mentioned deserves our absolute credence at all, is a question which we will have to leave open, for it would lead to present considerations in the realm of biology, especially to questions of heredity. Among the Bantu tribes of east central Africa, totemism is known in less detail. Although Frazer mentions several tribes, we do not know much more about them than the names of their totems. Totemic taboo is here also the feature which was most distinctly and most often observed. In the Angoni tribe, where the totems are primarily animals, it is forbidden to kill, destroy, or eat the animals or plants, for they will meet sickness as a punishment; it is also forbidden to use the skins of the totemic animals as clothing. In the A-Kamba tribe the totemic animals are taboo; and where the totem is a domestic animal, it is forbidden to keep it. An important belief, which is common among these tribes, is the belief in the transmigration of souls into animals after death. But there is a lack of close links between this belief and totemism. Comparing the totemism of the Bantu peoples in general with the facts we have mentioned earlier, it is apparent that the religious aspect is here less developed, when it comes to the religious acts of the cult, which are almost non-existent. On the other hand, totemic prohibitions exist everywhere, possessing the distinct character of religious norms, because their sanction is supernatural and automatic. Among these peoples, who have a higher level of economic development, these prohibitions show a more distinct economic character than among the Oceanic peoples or the primitive hunters of New Guinea and Australia. We find a great variety of forms of totemism on the continent of America, actually in its northern half, for in South America there exist only vestiges of totemic beliefs.74 In North America totemism exists, or rather existed, among the tribes of red-skinned 173

Malinowski's early writings Indians formerly inhabiting the vast prairies, basins of great rivers and lakes. Today these tribes have in part utterly perished and in part are breathing their last gasps on reservations. The tribes of north-western Indians, inhabiting Alaska and British Columbia possess a different culture and thus different forms of totemism. The third group consists of Indians inhabiting some southern states, named Pueblos, because they lead sedentary lives and live in stone fortified colonies.75 But totemism does not exist among the least civilized red-skinned nomadic tribes of the southwestern forests of California. Frazer points out this fact and notes that in North America totemism signifies a somewhat higher stage of cultural development.76 According to the quality of the information we possess about totemism in North America, totemism has been unquestionably ascertained among very many tribes, but in the majority of cases we do not know much more about it than the names of the totems and some social functions of the clan. Even totemic taboo, about which we usually know the most among all other peoples, has been observed here only in a few cases. Over all we can say that we know considerably more about the social aspect of totemism as regards the first line of Indians of the eastern prairies, with whom we will begin our description of totemism. Frazer supposes that this is due to the circumstance that the researchers who described these tribes, being concerned primarily with problems of the social structure, paid less attention to the forms of totemic beliefs and traditions. Whether this supposition is correct — we cannot say for certain. However, it does seem likely, since, among one of these Indian tribes, the Omaha tribe, whose totemism has been studied very carefully, it was found and recorded that there were a number of totemic beliefs, especially prohibitions referring to the eating of the totems. It is frankly improbable that the totemic beliefs and practices of the Omaha should be an isolated fact, especially since this tribe is not different in any other respect. The Omaha tribe belongs to the great family of Sioux or Dakota tribes inhabiting the Mississippi basin and both banks of the Missouri.77 The Omaha get their food partly from farming (growing maize, peas, pumpkin, and melons) and partly from hunting bison, deer, beaver, and otter. Among their totems there are eleven animals, one plant, and four inanimate objects. Clearly, 174

Totemism and exogamy then, animals are the prevailing totems. Twelve of the totems are edible, two are useable objects, and the remaining two are thunder and red earth. The totemic clans, of which there are ten (some are further divided into subclans with separate totems) are separated into two groups or phratries. When they set up camp, these two phratries spread themselves out into two semicircles one on the left and the other on the right side of the marching line: each clan has its designated place in the circle thus created. And so the division into clans has a local basis, despite the fact that the tribe leads a nomadic life. This local basis obviously has the character of something artificial, manufactured, and geometrical, but emphasizing not less, and perhaps even more strongly, the local union of the members of the clan, and also the division of the tribe into a certain number of smaller groups. Each clan has a certain number of personal names referring to the totemic animals. And so, in the bison clan there were various names designating physical and moral attributes of the bison. Some clans have sacred objects in safe-keeping, like a sacred pipe and other tribal insignia. I will now pass from the strictly social features of the totemism to the beliefs and to those functions of the clan which define man's relationship to his totem. As I have mentioned earlier, the Omaha tribe is the only one about whom we possess relatively plentiful information on this point. First of all, we know that each clan has a certain designated taboo; the 'Black Shoulders' clan, for example, is forbidden from eating certain parts of the bison. Another clan is forbidden from eating venison, and another bear. We could say that both those animals which were most dangerous to hunt and those which were economically most important to the tribe were the objects of totemic prohibitions. The bison alone, in its various parts and organs, was taboo for seven clans. Thus we find a state of affairs analogous to that in the Herero tribe in southern Africa, namely that the animal which is the economic foundation for the tribe plays the most important role in the system of totemic prohibitions, but at the same time, the taboo is either limited only to certain parts of the animal, as is the case among the Omaha, or to specially designated specimens, as we have seen among the Herero. The Omaha also possess traditions about the origins of their clans. For example, the Black Shoulders clan believes that its 175

Malinowski's early writings ancestors were bison and lived under water; similar traditions, which, however, we know only in general terms, also exist among the other clans. The relationship between a clan member and his totem is marked by various facts aside from this. The members of each clan wear their hair arranged in imitation of their totem. Various ceremonies exist whose purpose is the assimilation and identification of a man with his totem. At the birth of a child in the deer clan, they paint spots on the child in order to make him look like a little fawn. At the death of a man from the Black Shoulders clan, there is a funeral ritual whose purpose is the sending of the spirit of the deceased into the other world so that it may be joined with its bison ancestors. Aside from this, each clan possesses the authority to perform certain very simple magic ceremonies, whose purpose is achieving a given practical result such as protection against harmful birds or worms. One clan performs a certain ceremony at the first sign of lightning lest it harm them. It is apparent from this that the traditions concerning the ancestry of the clan, the ceremonies at birth and death, the personal names associated with the totem, the style of wearing their hair, their imitation of the totem, the magic ceremonies, and the giving of authority over certain aspects of nature (although not exclusively over the totem) to members of some clans - all this expresses the union between man and his totem. And as you can see, this union is denned in a manner very similar to other forms of totemism. And so here also the totemic prohibitions come into the foreground, just as they do in general. There is no doubt that they have a large economic significance; the admonitions against breaking them, associated with their difficulties and privations, is an infallible sign that the union of man with his totem is something important for this people. Particularly important is the form which the totemic taboo assumes among the Omaha, which is characteristic of the development to which the totemic prohibitions are prone in the higher stages of economic organization. Speaking generally, the taboo concerns the most important source of nourishment but only limits certain parts of the totem to certain camps respectively. The Ponka tribe also belongs to the Dakota family. It is divided into sixteen totemic clans whose structure as well as the beliefs governing it are very similar to those in the totemism of the Omaha - as far as we know, for we know considerably less about 176

Totemism and exogamy them. The Ponka clans are also divided into two phratries, which form their campsite into a circle in which each clan has its permanent place. The bison, which plays a great role in the economic life of the Ponka, is also one of the most important totems among them, for its taboo applies to eight clans. The division of clans into two phratries and the permanent position of these in the campsite also exists among the Sioux tribes of Kansas and Iowa. Among the former there exist certain magic ceremonies whose purpose is preventing blizzards or storms; they are thus ceremonies of the intichiuma type; concerning the latter tribe, we know of their traditions about the descent of the clans from the totemic animals. In another Sioux tribe, the Mandan - about whose totemism we know little except that it exists, i.e. that the tribe is divided into clans - worthy of notice are the magic ceremonies of the intichiuma type referring to the animal economically most important to this tribe, the bison, and to the tribe's most important source of vegetable food, maize; however, these ceremonies are not strictly totemic, for all of the members of the tribe take part in them. Every adult male must possess the skin from the head of a bison including the horns and be constantly ready at a given signal to put it on and begin a dance in this costume in a public place. Some dancers wear the entire skin of the bison with horns, hooves, and tail. The leaders give the order to begin this dance whenever it has been a long time since bisons have been seen, and hunger starts to badger the inhabitants. At that time ten to fifteen men, dressed in their bison skins, begin a dance, in which the movements and sounds of these animals are imitated, performing it until they are completely exhausted. When one of the dancers is totally exhausted, he staggers out of the dance; at that time one of the warriors standing around the dance shoots him with his bow and a blunt arrow. And so this shot dancer falls onto the ground, and his companions drag him outside of the circle of dancers; immediately someone else takes his place, and thus the dance lasts without a break until the result has been achieved, that is, until the moment when the warriors set on lookout give word that the bison have arrived. Throughout the duration of the dance a drum is beaten and there is singing and shouting; all this is done in order to attract the animal more strongly. This ceremony is not performed in a designated season nor periodically, but always when the need for it arises. On the other hand, the Mandan perform another 177

Malinowski's early writings ceremony periodically, in the spring, whose purpose is increasing the fertility of the bison. Here the content of the ceremony is a performance of the reproductive act by people dressed in bison skins. The ceremony is full of many grotesque rites, and acts of genuine debauchery even accompany it. In the spring the Mandans also perform a magic ceremony whose purpose is the assurance of a plentiful crop of maize. This ceremony is mainly performed by old women, dancing and ritually eating dried meat and maize. Similar ceremonies referring to the fertility of maize are performed by members of another Sioux tribe, the Minnetaree. These ceremonies, though not strictly totemic, for they are not the monopoly of one clan, are interesting as analogies to the intichiuma ceremonies. The existence of ceremonies so similar among peoples so far apart and under conditions so different, as those that hold sway in Australia and North America, demonstrates that they are an expression of certain deeply seated characteristics of human nature, whose further examination and analysis would undoubtedly shed interesting light on both aspects of these ceremonies, the economic and the magico-religious. Among the other Indian nations, the Iroquois deserve special attention because of the high level of their culture and because of the accurate information which we possess about them, thanks primarily to the research of the famous American ethnologist, Morgan. But actually, perhaps because of the one-sided interest of this researcher in the social organization exclusively, we know nothing about the religious aspect of the totemism of the Iroquois. This nation, composed of six tribes, breaks down into eight clans independently of the former divison. The clan of the bear, the wolf, the beaver and the turtle form one phratry. The totemic clans of the deer, the snipe, the hawk, and the falcon form the second. Tight solidarity joins the members of the clan through tribal differences. Each clan has special names which are given to its members. However, there is no connection between these names and the totemic animal of the clan. Membership in the clan, property, social standing, and titles are all inherited along the female line. The division into two groups of phratries is very clearly outlined. First of all, they are exogamous. Solidarity is an obligation of members of the phratry when one of them has been insulted by a member of another. An obligation to carry out a vendetta hangs heavy upon the entire phratry to settle the 178

Totemism and exogamy matter relatively peacefully by obtaining satisfaction from the guilty party. The unity of the phratry is also shown in the funeral ceremonies, in the tribal council, and in the election of sachems (leaders), and even in their ball games. Each phratry has its own religious rituals and carries them out by their own hand, but we know very little about these 'Medicine Lodges'. And so we are altogether well acquainted with the social aspect of the totemism of the Iroquois. On the other hand, we know almost nothing about its religious aspect. We know almost nothing about the religious functions of the phratry and nothing at all about the religious functions of the clan. We do not know any myths, in the proper sense of the word, about the descent of the clan from its totem, for the respective stories, as far as we know, do not play any social role. As we have noted, the proper names that each clan possesses have nothing in common with the totem. However, what is most important here is the total lack of information about totemic prohibitions, which we know nothing about among the Iroquois, as is also the case with almost all other Indian tribes. The relationship between man and his totem is completely undefined to us among the Iroquois, and it is also completely unknown how this relationship is viewed by them, or even if they have any ideas about it at all, whether the names of the animals were merely the labels of the clans, whether the animals are connected to the clans only by the granting of these names, in other words totally unconnected in fact. The Huron, a tribe related to the Iroquois, possess a totemism similar to that of the Iroquois. They are divided into twelve clans, whose totems are all animals, and who fall into two exogamous phratries. Five of these twelve clans have turtles as their totems which is in connection with the fact that the turtle plays a very great role in the mythology of the Hurons and in their whole social organization. Each clan possesses special names. From this it is apparent that as far as our information reaches, the totemism of the Hurons, though considerably less well-known, is very similar to the totemism of the Iroquois. I will not spend any more time describing the totemism of other tribes inhabiting the prairies, because that which has been said about the Dakota, Iroquois, and Huron tribes is sufficient to illustrate the totemism of the Prairie Indians. However, the totemism of the Indians in the north-western part of this continent is of a different type. These tribes in part inhabit 179

Malinowski's early writings the warm and damp shores of British Columbia, shielded on the east by the shoulder of the Rocky Mountains and heated by the warm Japanese current, and in part inhabit the frozen spaces of Alaska and the dry, barren interior of the continent east of the Rocky Mountains. They live primarily by hunting and fishing. The Tlingit tribe, inhabiting the shores of southern Alaska, is divided into two totemic phratries, of the crow and the wolf, which are again divided into eighteen clans having exclusively animal totems. The phratries are exogamous. Each of them traces its descent from a mystical hero, the crow phratry from the hero Jehl, the wolf phratry from the hero Kanook. The totemic clans are local and live intermingled with one another. Within the clans there are no distinct traditions about descent from particular heroes, although some vague beliefs about this do exist. What is most characteristic about the totemism of the Tlingit tribe is the immense development of heraldic art. Among them there is an entire system of totemic insignia or coats of arms, carved into wood, which plays an important role in the social life of these tribes. Each Tlingit clan has its own coat of arms, which usually represents part of its totemic animal. These coats of arms are carved or painted onto houses, boats, oars, coverlets, and other objects of everyday use, shields, etc., and on festive occasions, like funerals, dances, and commemorative holidays, people often come dressed completely as their totemic animals. Their coats of arms and insignia are not strictly localized in the clan; the same emblem may be used in several clans, and very rich people may use as many coats of arms as they please. Still, members of each phratry have the right to certain animal motifs, and each clan also has its own coat of arms, which it especially values. These coats of arms are also painted onto the men's faces. But the most interesting and best known form of the plastic representation of totems in the American north-west is the totem pole. This is a wooden log, often of immense size, on which is carved, from top to bottom, figures of animals and people, alternately, as a representation of the totemic ancestors of a man. These poles can be of two types. Either they stand near the home, and in that case they are another form of heraldic sign, or they house the ashes of a dead man, and in that case they are a kind of tomb and statue at the same time. In general, all the plastic representations of the totems have their own legends, in which their origins and meaning are explained. 180

Totemism and exogamy The Haida tribe, inhabiting the Queen Charlotte Islands, possesses very similar forms of totemism. The tribe falls into two phratries of the Crow and the Eagle, and is again divided into a certain number of totemic clans, each of which is named after some sort of animal. Among them heraldic signs also play a prominent role; each totemic group has several of them. Legends also exist about the origins of the totemic coats of arms. The Kwakiutl tribe, inhabiting part of Vancouver Island and the adjoining British Columbia shores, is divided into six clans of the beaver, the donkey, the wolf, the crow, and the dolphin. They are exogamous and each tribe has one or more heraldic signs and legends explaining their meaning. In some of these legends, the ancestor of the clan met the totemic animal and befriended it; in others the animal itself is the ancestor of the clan. It is unknown to what extent these legends are connected to the social functions of the clan. Totemic taboo has not been ascertained among the tribes mentioned; on the other hand, we do know that it does exist in the Tshimshian tribe. In this tribe, there exist ceremonial dances, which are dramatic representations of myths. In general, the information which Frazer provides about these tribes is very scanty and insufficient to get to the bottom of either the religious or the social aspect of their totemism. We do not know much about the social aspect of their mythology; on the other hand, the totemic clans are presented unclearly because we know little about their social functions. Even less deeply are we able to delve into the essence of totemism on the basis of the information we possess about the beliefs and organizations of the Pueblo Indians.78 They inhabit the plateau states of Arizona and New Mexico, separated by huge abysses, or canyons as they are called there. On the protruding edges of rocks, which stand on lonely peaks, they build their fortified villages, in order to protect themselves from the assaults of the warlike tribes of Apache and Navajo. They live by farming, chiefly from raising maize. The villages of the Hopi tribe are situated on freely standing blocks of sandstone towering five to eight hundred feet above the nearest springs, from which the women must carry water in buckets on their heads, ascending narrow and precipitous steps. The houses are erected in terraces, one on top of another. These Indians have a special form of totemism. Their clans are very small, usually including only a few persons; they are grouped into 181

Malinowski's early writings larger social phratries. Previously these phratries were exogamous. Today even members of the same clan intermarry. Both property and membership in the clan are inherited along the female line. The inhabitants of the village of Wualpa, belonging to the Hopi tribe, are divided into twelve phratries, which again fall into smaller clans. Each of these clans is also quite small; because there are more than a hundred of them, and because the village numbers about three hundred inhabitants, about three persons thus fall into each clan. The majority of the totems are animals or plants; aside from these there are a few natural phenomena, like thunder, snow, and rain, and a few household objects. Each clan has its own traditions and special ceremonies, which have quite a great significance in their social life. But we know nothing definite about all of this, so that these facts do little to deepen our information about totemism. In concluding our survey of totemic phenomena, we must say a few words about the special form which the beliefs about the union of man and animal take among some of the tribes of North America.79 Among them there exists a belief in guardian spirits, as Frazer calls them - something which we could most nearly define as individual totems, for they are not connected to a social group, a clan, but to the individual person. This institution has quite a few characteristics in common with totemism proper, especially as far as it concerns its religious aspect. In both cases a taboo is associated with the totem. But it is still necessary for us to keep in mind that it is precisely in North America that we know nothing about a taboo in totemism proper, with the exception of the Omaha tribe. When an animal that is a guardian spirit is an important source of nourishment, then the taboo extends only over certain parts of it; this is a feature we have already encountered in totemism. In the case of guardian spirits, there is a belief that the spirit transmits its properties to its ward, just as the totem grants them to the clan in many instances. A basic difference, obviously, lies in the social aspect: the guardian spirit is the patron of a given individual; the totem is the patron of a social group. From this it follows that totemism possesses an important and extensive influence on social life; it governs the relations of members within the group and governs externally the relations of groups as whole entities. And the belief in guardian spirits plays almost no role in the social organization. This difference is obviously fundamental, so that it is better, together 182

Totemism and exogamy with Frazer, to limit the concept and the term totemism to phenomena having social influence and to call individual beliefs something else, and in doing so to emphasize their different character. Another important difference between these two institutions is also based on the fact that a totem is inherited and a guardian spirit is always acquired by the man who is subject to it. Among the tribe of the Algonquin, for example, a boy fourteen to fifteen years of age blackens his face and goes to a remote and isolated place where he remains alone for a few days, eating absolutely nothing and abandoning himself to contemplation. The expectation, grounded on superstitious faith, the fatigue, and hunger do their work: in a dream he experiences all sorts of visions, which most often represent a certain animal or object to him in the foreground. And it is that thing, the main object of his dreams, which becomes the guardian spirit of the man for the rest of his life. It stands in close union with his character, his disposition, and his future vocation. A man predestined to be a warrior will probably dream of an eagle or a bear; a hunter - a wolf; a shaman - a snake; etc. Throughout his whole life the Indian wears, as a kind of amulet, the thing of which he dreams, or some part of it: a piece of bone, a feather, a snake skin, etc. The Indian offers a kind of cult to his patron, makes sacrifices of tobacco to it, thanks it for prosperity, and turns to him in unhappiness. Thus, the visions of this decisive age, when a young boy, in fasting and loneliness, seeks his guardian spirit, play an important role in the further fate of the man. A certain Dakota chief, even though he came from a family of warriors, never went to war because in his initiation dream, he dreamt of an antelope, which was the spirit of peace for his tribe. Despite this he was highly respected in the tribe, and no one suspected him of cowardice. At first glance, it is apparent that the institution about which we have been speaking, although not totemism, has much in common with it and sheds important and interesting light on it. We will have an opportunity to return to this subject when we discuss the theory of totemism, to which we will return presently, after concluding our survey of Totemic facts. (London,1912)

183

Malinowski's early writings P A R T III

In the preceding two parts of this article, I have provided a short survey of totemic facts. Now I will proceed to a presentation of Frazer's theory of totemism. As I have repeatedly mentioned above, the survey of totemic phenomena provided by Frazer is a compendium of descriptions drawn from sources and repeated in crudo, just as the author found them. It is simply a compilation, accomplished with great erudition, very worthwhile for study, but not digested and not grasped within a theoretical framework. There is no elaboration on the facts, no assembly of them into some sort of scheme isolating the typical forms and essential elements; there is no division into groups even of general characteristics of totemism in the various ethnographic provinces. The author, in fact, has done nothing to facilitate our orientation with a clear and concise look at the facts. If we view the task of science to be the close and succinct description and comprehension of the facts, achieved through the precise classification of those facts, the creation of generalizations, and the inclusion of the specific facts under the general concepts created, in this case Frazer's work, which does none of this, is not, in the proper sense of the word, a scientific work. Because it is written beautifully and is full of interesting digressions, it reads easily, but it is difficult to assimilate and by no means is it easy to digest the material contained therein conceptually. We would at least expect that the author would compensate for the lack of these things in his theoretical section by providing a retrospective thread and show the road taken through the chaos of loosely collected phenomena, and allow us to glance backwards in consistent and organically connected perspective. However, this is not the case. The theoretical section, contained in volume IV is quite short - and there would be nothing wrong with that - but in quality it is entirely insufficient. The volume is divided into three chapters. The first and shortest80 contains some general observations on the traits of totemism and exogamy. In the second chapter81 the research of the author and others on the origins of totemism is provided. Finally, in the third82 the discussion turns to the origins of exogamy. In the latter two chapters specific problems are explored which cannot shed any light on the systematics of totemic phenomena; and so the one place where 184

Totemism and exogamy the author could devote a few words to this important task is the forty pages of the first chapter, but, as was our conviction, even there we find nothing which we might expect to find. Let us begin with the third chapter, about the origins of exogamy, because this subject will not interest us for long, and so we may dispose of it quickly.83 Criticizing and rejecting the theories of McLennan, Westermarck, and Durkheim on the origins of exogamy, and more or less accepting the views of Morgan, Frazer develops his own related theory as follows. According to Frazer, exogamy arose as a conscious reform, introduced at a time when the people were found in a state of 'promiscuity', which in general means that they had no regulated cohabitation.84 The purpose of this reform, accomplished by some primitive but wise lawgivers, was the prevention of incest. For Frazer accepts that disgust over incest had developed and was very distinct before the introduction of this reform. But where did the disgust come from, and what rationale did these people have for introducing such a complicated and farreaching reform? Frazer himself clearly understands and admits that this could not be the result of the savages' consciousness of some sort of biological laws with which not even contemporary scholars are entirely in agreement; nor, even less, had some moral ideas, which are always the result of a social state of affairs, ever caused it. In order to extract himself from this difficulty, Frazer makes the assumption that the disgust over incest is caused by a superstitious belief in its harmful influence on the fertility of people and animals. What is assumed is that the relations of close relatives produce infertility in the tribe and threaten the main sources of food, impeding the strong animals from reproducing and the edible vegetables from growing, or in short, what is assumed is that the result of incest is the infertility of women, animals, and plants.85 Similar superstitions presently exist among many peoples. Every theory of this type, when given in an abridgement deprived of the strength of detailed arguments and factual material cited to support it, must lose something and seem weaker than it is in essence. But Frazer's theory does not improve much when read in extenso. This theory is a series of hypotheses about primitive 'promiscuity', about a consciously introduced great social reform, about the disgust over incest, and the superstitious source of this hypothesis, which all refer to the 'primitive' 185

Malinowski's early writings state of humanity and are so very specific and concrete that they will not admit to proof or even to being made to seem likely through general arguments about the nature of primitive man. Despite this, it could have value as a pure hypothesis, if it opened broader theoretical horizons, if it were possible in light of this to group facts in some sort of new, organically connected manner. But this is not so; it gives us nothing new theoretically and does not allow us a deeper understanding of the facts. Worse, it is completely false according to general considerations. Frazer's main position, that it was the result of a conscious reform, is entirely contrary to the scientific principles according to which all social changes must take place, slowly, by the action of a variety of forces, both as the result of conscious well thought-out actions of groups or individuals and also as the result of completely automatic changes, unperceived by society, and this latter factor plays an undoubtedly more important role. And so, to choose one of the least important factors of social mingling and to say 'in this case conscious reform was the exclusive cause of everything that happened' - is worse than to say nothing. The acceptance of the hypothesis of 'primitive promiscuity' is at the least a scientific anachronism. As for the assumption that the disgust at incest is based on superstitious beliefs that it is harmful - this is no less naive. Such a disgust, if it exists, must undoubtedly be an indicator of important instincts, biologically based, which could crystallize into various superstitious beliefs. But the biological state of affairs is essential, and its expression in savage ideas only a secondary phenomenon. Frazer, in searching for a definitive cause for exogamy in these superstitious ideas, inverts the essential order of its construction, and that is why this theory - this series of hypotheses put forth by him - is to be rejected on all counts. Exogamy is unquestionably a biological problem, and only general biological arguments can shed light on the essence of the problem. The opinions of the biologists cited by Frazer,86 display quite sizable differences and divergences of views on this matter. However, if we are permitted to accept, along with the majority of opinions, that exogamy offers a form of sexual life of greater benefit for the species than unhampered endogamy, the essential part of the problem is solved: for we know the nature of the forces which lead humanity in this direction. Researching the paths by which evolution has progressed could provide very interesting 186

Totemism and exogamy results. In each instance it would be necessary, first of all, to abandon the bias that such a path was singular, that in all groups it ran the same course, and that the ideas which were generated among the savages as counterparts of certain instincts were everywhere the same. Without expanding further on the problem of exogamy, I will pass to the summarizing and criticism of the first chapter, in which is contained general observations about totemism. The problem that Frazer first presents is the basic question of whether all of these facts, which have been described under the name of totemism, are actually variants of one and the same phenomenon. Does 'totemism' possess, for all of the peoples among whom we have encountered it, a sufficient number of common features to regard it as something basically uniform? Frazer raises these questions, but completely underestimates their significance and formulates them in an entirely inadequate manner; yet they are immeasurably important. Indeed, since the various forms of totemism show great differences, and entirely identical forms are never encountered, further, because in general we encounter rudimentary forms, incompletely developed, and rather fragments of totemism, and only in a few cases does Frazer ascertain totemism fully and clearly developed - this fundamental question thus suggests itself to us: are the differences basic or superficial? Is the collection of features which we consider to be full and pure totemism only arbitrarily and artificially constructed by us? Here, in referring to this question, Frazer actually avoids it and dismisses the whole problem with a few superficial observations. He simply writes, No one who has followed the preceding survey attentively can fail to be struck by the general similarity of the beliefs and customs which it has revealed in tribe after tribe of men belonging to different races and speaking different languages in many widely distant parts of the world. Differences, sometimes considerable differences, of detail do certainly occur, but on the whole the resemblances decidedly preponderate and are so many and so close that they deserve to be classed together under a And this is all Frazer has to say about this basic problem of comparative research. Straying from the facts, not getting involved with comparisons, 187

Malinowski's early writings and not even noting concretely what he considers these basic similarities to be and what the 'differences in detail', are, he groundlessly asserts that these phenomena deserve a common name. But what is important here is something of a completely different nature: whether these phenomena can be included under one and the same concept! After such a short disposal of this subject, which would actually require a comparative treatise on the totemic phenomena in all their particulars, the road onward is easy. The first step is to give a definition, describing the term 'pure totemism' for others. The manner in which Frazer approaches this is also naive to a certain degree. He simply seeks the 'most primitive' of peoples, among whom we encounter totemism, and he considers the form found there to be 'typical' and 'pure'. Because the 'most primitive' of totemic peoples are the Australians - and among these, according to Frazer, the central tribes, especially the Arunta, are the most primitive - it is thus necessary to turn there with the aim of finding pure totemism par excellence.88 With Australian totemism before him, the author gives this definition: 'Totemism is an intimate relation which is supposed to exist between a group of kindred people on the one side and a species of natural or artificial objects on the other side'.89 Such a statement may be good at the beginning of a scientific treatise, as a provisional definition of the term, but not as a strict definition, as the definitive result of such laborious work. In the continuation of the chapter with which we are dealing Frazer repeats his favourite assertion that totemism is not a religion and that it is only a 'collection of superstitions and magic practices'.90 He defines the relationship of a man to his totem as a form of friendship and affinity,91 and asserts that from these ideas (about blood relationship or affinity) rises a system of prohibitions against killing and eating the totem: the totemic taboo.92 Totemism is older than exogamy, and these two phenomena are not actually connected with one another; they arose independently of one another.93 Next, Frazer examines the influence of totemism on some aspects of social life. First of all, he examines the development of the economic organization: and here he arrives at negative results. To be sure, some totemic phenomena have a certain similarity to economic facts in the strict sense of the term, but the similarity is only external. Actually, the influence of totemism on economic development is practically 188

Totemism and exogamy nil.94 Next the author explicates the influence of totemism on the evolution of art,95 and on the evolution of religion, where he finds that religion almost never develops from totemism.96 But this whole passage about religion and magic is warped again by the stand taken by the author on the question of differentiating religion from magic.97 In the evolution of humanity Frazer finds totemism's greatest merit to be the creation of clan solidarity, which could be considered the basis for every social organization.98 On this point Frazer's theoretical considerations on totemism as a sociological and psychological phenomenon ends, on its relationship to related social phenomena, on its value for the evolution of the social organization and culture - absolutely everything which the author had to say about this phenomenon, except for some specific problems of its 'origins'. As is evident, it is a bit too little. In the second chapter of volume IV, Frazer examines specific, but less basic questions about the 'origins of totemism'. First he provides a survey of a number of past theories (of Spencer, Lubbock, Haddon, and a few other, less well-known American ethnologists) and a critique of these theories. Later Frazer presents three of his own theories on the origins of totemism, which he had developed and rejected in succession. Now he acknowledges only the third of these. Frazer's first theory99 subsumes the concept of totemism under the more general concept of the 'external soul'. In a number of the beliefs of primitive peoples, we can find the idea that man's soul, his life, or often his health, are tightly bound to and dependent on some external object. Together with several other researchers, Frazer demonstrates the existence of this idea in a great number of instances.100 According to Frazer's first theory, the totem - animal, vegetable, or object — is a specific instance of such an 'external soul'. According to primitive totemic ideas, a man 'supposes that his soul is to be lodged for safety in some external object, such as an animal or plant, but that not knowing which individual of the species is the receptacle of his soul he spares the whole species from a fear of unwittingly injuring the particular one with which his fate is bound up'.101 I will not interpose even the most general criticism of this unbelievably naive theory because the author rejects it himself. In his second theory Frazer tries to derive the essence of totem189

Malinowski's early writings ism from the intichiuma ceremonies.102 According to this, totemism is the system of a magic cooperative society, introduced on the basis of ideas that some people or groups of people had the magical authority to breed certain animals; in this manner totemism introduced division of labour among certain groups, into which the tribe was divided and so created totemic clans. In time, Frazer also rejects this second theory. In Frazer's last theory, which he presently acknowledges exclusively, he discerns the origins of totemism in the primitive ideas and superstitions about the supernatural incarnation of men; in other words, he seeks a key for solving the totemic problems in the beliefs of the Central Australian tribes, about which we have spoken extensively above. Frazer assumes that at one time there was a general unawareness of the real course of procreation - a hypothesis which on all accounts must be considered justified.103 And the ideas about the manner in which a man enters the world were more or less similar - as Frazer says - to the sort we find today among some Australian tribes: as soon as a woman first senses that she has become pregnant, she imagines that, at that moment, something has entered and become incarnate within her. According to the Australian beliefs, 'spirit children' become incarnate within her; indeed, such ideas exist among various tribes and are everywhere very well defined and detailed viewpoints.104 And so Frazer assumes that these beliefs are not altogether 'primitive' because, in his opinion, the ideas about 'spirit children' are already the result of an evolution that is quite long. Completely primitive peoples, in the cradle of totemism, imagine, says Frazer, that animals, plants, or other objects simply become incarnate - precisely those which in the course of evolution must become totems. This is why the discovery of precisely these beliefs among the Banks Islanders, accomplished by Dr Rivers, is so important.105 According to Frazer, this discovery is the missing link in the chain of totemic facts on which his theory is based. In the beliefs of the Banks Islanders, we find a state of affairs which is precisely primitive and essential totemism, just as all humanity had once professed it. Being acquainted with these beliefs, we can understand everything, explain all the features of totemism. On the basis of these beliefs, each man was considered to be the incarnation of some object, animal, or plant; from this results the general identifica190

Totemism and exogamy tion of a man with a given species; and as a further consequence, the prohibitions against killing, eating, or in general destroying this species; and sometimes quite the reverse, a command to eat the totemic species, in order to identify with it more readily. According to Frazer, this theory also explains the unusually broad range of totemic species, and also why we sometimes encounter ideas about magic authority of members of a clan over the totemic species and about the clan members' resemblance to the totemic animal. This last point leads us to the biological basis which Frazer tries to construct for his theory. The naive faith of totemic peoples in the similarity between members of a clan and their totem is, according to Frazer, entirely groundless. It is a universally known fact that women, during their pregnancy, are easily subject to the influence of strong impressions, which are sometimes reflected in the foetus in a specific manner. This is what we call 'fixation'. According to Frazer, these facts could be the reason for beliefs in the incarnation of animals, plants, or objects in the woman. Indeed, if, in this series of instances, primitive people noticed some sort of distinct influence exerted by a given thing on the foetus, they could use this as a basis for the view that each child is connected in some mystical way with a given animal, plant, or object. And because savage people have a tendency to grasp abstract concepts in a concrete manner, this general connection is understood as a physical incarnation. This biological aspect of Frazer's theory would be extremely interesting and place the whole viewpoint in a completely different light, if not for the fact that it hangs completely in midair, for it is based on biological facts about which we know nothing, and which can only be the subject of conjecture. It also seems to follow from the examples cited by Frazer that such an influence was ascertained only very rarely, in isolated instances, whose interpretation is unclear and that these facts were never researched in a sufficient manner. In any case, since we have so few examples of such fortuitous influence, we cannot speak of a 'biological basis for totemism'. But this biological basis is not indispensable to Frazer's theory, the essential part of which is purely psychological and lies mainly in this: that totemism arose on the basis of the ignorance of the fact of paternity and of the faith in the incarnation of animals, plants, and even some inanimate things in women; independ191

Malinowski's early writings ently of the question of whether such a faith has any basis in the physiological 'fixation* or is only pure superstition. Let us now proceed to a criticism of this theory in its essential part. The main objection which can be made is that it is based on a false posing of the question, which is again connected to the manner in which Frazer comprehends totemism.106 Thus, the basic criticism must refer to the presentation of the problem itself and show where the problem can be found. But, for the moment, I would like to demonstrate that even on the grounds of Frazer's theory and even while precisely accepting his presentation of the problem, his views produce a number of internal contradictions and do not explain the entire mass of phenomena which, according to the author's assumptions, they should explain. I am here concerned with the clear designation of how Frazer presents the basic problem of the 'origins of totemism', with showing what kind of assertions and hypotheses he uses to help him solve this problem, what kind of phenomena and what kind of problems the author solves in his opinion, and finally with pointing out what sort of contradictions and difficulties his solutions introduce into the entire question. Since according to Frazer totemism is an organic whole comprised of phenomena which we encounter everywhere, in basically the same form, and which are the same everywhere, the phenomena must thus also have identical 'origins' everywhere.107 We must define these 'origins'; this is the fundamental problem. But for Frazer what is this concept of 'origins'? Even if we accept with the author that a given institution - like totemism, here arises everywhere in an identical manner, we can still take different paths in explaining this phenomenon, we can search in various directions to discover these origins. The rise of such a multi-faceted, complicated institution as totemism must take place in a manner by no means simple and must depend on greatly diverse circumstances. Frazer does not try, in principle, to reproduce these conditions, not even those which he considers to be essential, and this would be, after all, a scientific resolution to the problem of the origins of totemism. Frazer does not take this path, does not address the general method of the problem at all and does not formulate explicitly, either for himself or for the reader, what he really means by 'origins'. And because such contradictions and flaws are implicitly contained in the very workings of the problem, there is no doubt that this lack of a clearly 192

Totemism and exogamy formulated method is not an unwillingness to resort to formalism and excessive schematization of thought, but that it reaches deeper into the very essence of the author's thinking. As the 'origins' of totemism Frazer indicates a certain designated belief, the faith in incarnation. Primitive people believe that animals, plants, and sometimes even inanimate objects can simply become incarnate in women, and from this faith, as a simple logical consequence, the totemic beliefs result, the identification of man with his totem, and as a further consequence, totemic taboo, the eating of the totem, ceremonies in its honour, as well as the desire for the propagation of the totem, and all other features of totemic descent. The entire institution is understood in this manner because all of its features are logical consequences of the fundamental belief.108 Such a concept of the 'origins of totemism' is illusory. If we take them in their strict sense, if in these beliefs, which Frazer considers to be the most primitive, we should try to catch sight of the cause for the rise of totemism, it would immediately be apparent that Frazer's explanation implicitly contains the view that totemism - an extremely fundamental and complicated form of social organization - has arisen only by a path of logical deduction from a given belief, and that humanity, drawing logical consequences from a specific viewpoint, had built a great totemic edifice in stages corresponding to the particular results of this deduction. Such a theory does not merit discussion in several respects; above all it does not comply with the sociological aspect of totemism. Totemic beliefs are tightly bound to the social structure, and the rise of social institutions demands a determination of the social conditions in which these institutions have developed, and it would follow from Frazer's theory that the social institution arose from a certain belief by a path of logical deduction. On the other hand, if the theory which we are presently analyzing is only to explain to us the inner construction of the beliefs, not venturing into the genesis of them, i.e. not providing 'origins', then, on closer reflection, we see that it is nothing but a tautology. Every belief which involves an identification of man with his totem must have as a logical consequence all of the totemic properties (taboo, ideas about the kinship of people and animals, et al.) for the simple reason that all these particular totemic beliefs and acts are nothing other than the mere definition of the relationship of man to his totem and express the 193

Malinowski's early writings essence of this identification. If on the road of induction we compare that which these particular totemic canons express, we will come to the conclusion, in our survey of totemic facts, that the essence of totemism is the extremely close relationship of man to his totem: man's identification with his totem. And a theory which, at the end of our inductive collection of facts, reverses the course of argument and deduces the given from the last result, does not deserve further discussion. The whole merit of Frazer's theory would then rest on this: that it introduces an identification of man with his totem from the Australian beliefs about incarnation and presents these beliefs not genetically, as the basis of totemism (such a concept, as we have seen, would make no sense), but logically, as being at the basis of totemism. But there is no reason to stop and think about whether this result has any value, for Frazer undoubtedly did not intend to give his theory this significance. He considers his explanation to be genetic, and as such we must give it an even lower critical rating. The fact that Frazer does not really know what he wants to explain, that he does not know what he understands by the 'origins' of totemism, follows irrefutably from his series of three theories. In the first, he tries to find the origins of totemism in beliefs about the 'external soul'. As I have already mentioned earlier, it is an explanation through reduction to universal beliefs. This method of explanation, however, does not provide the genesis of totemic beliefs, even less does it provide the genesis of totemic social institutions; it only clarifies these beliefs and sheds a certain amount of light on them. Frazer's second theory has a completely different character. According to it, totemism was introduced as an institution, irrational in its means but conscious of its purpose. And so we are essentially given the genesis of totemism in the following manner: primitive people had a certain economic goal and certain ideas about how to better attain that goal, and so they created an institution in which the goal and the means to it could find full expression. Whatever we may be able to discard from this theory, especially in regard to the concept of the purposeful introduction of basic reforms and arrangements by primitive people,109 we cannot deny that this theory does provide a genesis of totemism, and that not in a one-sided manner, through beliefs alone, but a full genesis of totemism, as a social institution. Once again, the third theory does not provide a full sociological genesis 194

Totemism and exogamy of totemism and deals only with totemic beliefs. As we have seen, this theory is either a tautology devoid of content or completely false. And so, none of Frazer's three theories is satisfactory from a methodological point of view. But even if we forget about the basic methodological or philosophical objections, Frazer's last theory, which alone concerns us, explains nothing and, indeed, presents a number of contradictions and a series of complicated problems, completely untouched by the author. We will give a few examples of such contradictions and difficulties. Why is it that we encounter those beliefs which Frazer regards as most primitive among the Banks Islanders, that is, among a people who are on a considerably higher level of culture than the Australians? If these beliefs were so strong and vital that they survived in the Banks Islands through all social changes and transformations, why did they not create totemism? As we have emphatically noted earlier (in the preceding chapter of this article), the isolated and socially less important phenomena in the Banks Islands cannot in any way be regarded as totemism. And here we come to the more basic difficulty already mentioned earlier. Frazer's theory completely ignores the social aspect of the problem; from where in these primitive totemic beliefs do the forces come which create the clan and the entire social aspect of totemism? The theory which we are criticizing includes the view that beliefs which refer exclusively to individuals and define the relationship of some individuals to surrounding nature were the source of a complicated social phenomenon which embraces social groups and not just individuals. Such a view, in order for it to have any sort of significance at all, must be developed in full and in detail, and this is not the case in Frazer's work. The deeper we delve into the nature of sociological facts, the more clearly we see that there is no direct and obvious continuity of development between the individual and the social phenomenon. Social groups are not created by a simple summarization or generalization of individual phenomena. Beliefs, regulations, customs, and ideas concerning the behaviour of individuals having no influence on social life can become the basis for forming groups only by way of a complicated process of social interaction. In building an evolutionary scheme, it is necessary to define such a process in detail, strictly and concretely, and not to leave it to the guesswork of the reader. In the instance about which we 195

Malinowski's early writings are speaking, I am not entirely in a position to imagine in what manner totemism might arise from 'the most primitive beliefs'. Let us suppose that in a given society each person considers himself to be the incarnation of some sort of object; then from this state of affairs the path is still quite long, leading to a totemic organization with the designated relationship of a clan to a tribe, with a series of functions joining the members into one group and welding the clans into the higher unity of the tribe. The path is quite long and not simple at all, if only for the reason that, according to the beliefs of the Banks Islanders, there is no reason for there not being the greatest variety of objects incarnated in women, and, in connection with this, there is no reason for the establishment of a limited number of totems and in the same way a certain number of members with the same totem, who would be the material for the clan. And here we encounter a new difficulty: this theory does not explain the fact that totems are not just any objects, that certain classes of objects, first animals and later plants, occur more often than others. Does this fact mean nothing; does it express nothing? Frazer does not give a satisfactory answer to this question; he trivializes it entirely. In speaking of the points which his theory explains, he adds, It explains the whole of the immense range of totems from animals and plants upwards or downwards to the greatest works of nature on the one side and to the meanest handiwork of man on the other. The reason is that there is nothing from the light of the sun or the moon or the stars down to the humblest implement of domestic utility which may not have impressed a woman's fancy at the critical season and have been by her identified with the child in her womb.110

This is simply false. According to this, on the basis of the simplest considerations of probability, we would judge that the various objects of the immediate surroundings should be uniformly represented among the totems. Furthermore, in the foreground those objects should appear which the women most often have to deal with. The facts most emphatically prove these deductions false. A simple survey comparing the totemic phenomena shows that there exists a distinct predominance of animals, and of those animals which indeed play an important role in the lives of the males, but which only rarely make an impression on pregnant women. On the other hand, the objects in constant contact with and in use by the women stand in the 196

Totemism and exogamy distinct minority among the totems. Thus, in Australian totemism, the objects of the women's everyday use, such as the sticks used to dig roots and earthworms, cooking utensils, etc., are never totems at all, while among the most numerous and important of the totems are the animals which are the objects of the hunt, which are associated with men. It is not worthwhile to increase the number of objections and to substantiate them, since we reject the fundamental viewpoint of Frazer. I have noted a few contradictions which are implied by his theory in order to point out that in no way may we consider his theory to be thought out in detail and to deal with the facts sufficiently. I now come to the basic criticism of Frazer's viewpoint and theory. Frazer's fundamental error, as has been shown above, is that he considers totemism to be an integral whole, a cultural unity, as if it came from a single casting. The fact that Frazer understands totemism in this manner and presents his concepts in this way, as we have seen earlier, is reflected in his entire work. Everywhere he speaks of the 'vestiges' of totemism proper, of its 'rudiments', of totemic forms 'inadequately developed', or already 'faded', as if ideal totemism actually existed and there were various forms which more or less approached it. In this respect, Frazer's viewpoint is not isolated, for the majority of scholars accept totemism in this manner: considering it to be a collection of features organically and permanently connected to one another. In order to make any sense out of the factual state of affairs, in which we encounter nothing like 'full totemism', scholars together with Frazer must run to the very convenient arsenal of evolutionary concepts like, 'vestiges', 'origins', 'rudiments', etc. Other authors, sensing that totemism cannot be considered to be a hard and fast homogeneous collection of varied phenomena, hold the essence of totemism to be one of its features, such as taboo, or totemic names for totemic clans, or the descent from animal or plant ancestors. However, this view which so considerably simplifies the theoretical aspect of totemism as well as the necessity for a more precise description, is also, unfortunately, completely false! In any case the majority of ethnographers, in considering this question, regard totemism as a normal step in man's religious development, through which each of its branches must pass in certain stages of culture. Some, like Jevons, Reinach, 197

Malinowski's early writings and Durkheim, consider totemism to be primitive religion par excellence and try to deduce the entire development of religion from totemism.111 Such an understanding of totemism and the postulation that totemism is an organic phase in human evolution arouses an immediate mistrust as a reflex of our common sense. For, whatever we may say about the postulation of identical evolution through which all of humanity in all of its factions has passed, one thing is certain, that the cultures and institutions of peoples found on the same level of evolution can be found to be similar to one another only insofar as we take the most general of their features into account. In a word, humanity, in each of its branches, passes through similar stages, but never through identical ones, and the more we enter into the details of an institution or of beliefs, the less we can postulate these details to be necessary phases of evolution. We can boldly accept that the ancestors of each branch of humanity worked hard flint just as the Tasmanians did in the nineteenth century and as some Australians do even today. Later they began to polish this flint, as some Oceanic peoples polish it, and only later did they pass on to work with bronze and steel. But whether the forms and method of working it were everywhere the same, whether the trade of working flint was identical everywhere, and identically developed and perfected, about these things we can have serious doubts, and in no case can we assert it and on that postulate build an entire theory. If we now pass from the material to the spiritual culture, to religion, customs, and beliefs, we must be considerably more careful. The working of stone, the nature of the material, the purpose of the objects, and the very limited means of primitive technology comprise a set of conditions which very strictly determine the artefacts of this epoch. The more distant we get from purely material activities, the more complicated and elusive the conditions of man's adaptation to nature become. And therefore religion, that immensely differentiated form of adaptation, cannot be identical in all of its details for peoples of a given cultural stage. Only the more general types of religious ideas, e.g. that which Tylor calls 'animism', can be the property of all of humanity standing on a certain stage of evolution. But passing to the more specific forms of beliefs, adding to the general feature of 'animism' more specialized features, forms more and more concrete, we see immediately how special conditions are added to the 198

Totemism and exogamy general properties of the human soul: the influence of the surroundings, the climate, the fauna, flora, economic conditions, etc. And because all of these conditions are different for the various sections of humanity, it would be an error to accept that the concrete forms of beliefs are univocally determined stages of evolution. And so, totemism 'full and pure', as it is understood, as Frazer and those like him understand it, is actually an extremely concrete form of belief; it contains a whole series of particular features, it is a collection of properties, which at first glance seems only possible in connection with a strange and circumstantial confluence of conditions. It is hard to believe that the same set of circumstances has always appeared in all of humanity at a certain stage of development or that such an extremely complicated collection of conditions could appear in the same way which could identically form such a highly specialized and complicated product as totemism. For Frazer, totemism 'pure and full' is Australian totemism. After the most superficial survey of this form, such a great number of local features are apparent in it that it is difficult to accept that it is a stage through which all of humanity once passed, and with it our ancestors. And a deeper analysis of the same thing confirms this common sense reaction and leads to a rejection of Frazer's conception of totemism as well as his manner of explanation. Above all, a scientific understanding of totemism demands an exhaustive answer to the basic question, 'Does totemism exist at all?' The answer must be based on the analysis of the facts which I here present: Are there totemic features which appear consistently, and if so what sort of features are they? Is totemism a complex of such consistently existing facts; is its essence also determined by one dominant feature, etc.? Only the solving of these problems and the determining of the essence of totemism will slowly lead to the systematic investigation of its genesis. However, these questions overstep the boundaries of the present article.112

199

TRIBAL MALE ASSOCIATIONS IN AUSTRALIA*

Secret societies are widespread social institutions among wild and barbarous peoples. The great importance of secret societies for the social organization of such peoples is well known through the works which deal with this subject in general, and through various monographs, describing secret societies in various communities. As yet there is no monograph concerning tribal associations of males in Australia, although it is precisely in that country that these societies flourish extremely; and we possess abundant ethnographic materials concerning them. Although in the well-known treatise of Prof. Hutton Webster these Australian data are treated in masterly fashion, it is nevertheless possible for a special monograph to outline certain features and to attain certain theoretical results for which there is no room in a general treatise. As is well known, the Australian savages stand on a very low level of culture, and have but primitive forms of social organisation. The rudimentary government of a tribe, or rather of a local group, consists of a headman and of a council of elders. Broadly speaking, the old men wield the real power; but to understand the basis of this power, an investigation into the organization of the tribal society of males is necessary. The kinship organization in Australia presents two aspects: there is the family and, corresponding therewith, individual kinship; besides this, there is the division into exogamous classes, totemic clans and other analogous groups. To this division correspond the systems of tribal or group kinship, embodied in the •Original in slightly faulty English. Bulletin International de I'Academie des Sciences de Cracovie: Classe de Vhilologie, Classe d'Histoire et de Vhilosophie, nos. 4-6, 56-63. Simultaneously published in Polish as Tlemienne zwiazki me^ezyzn w Australia. Sprawozdania z Czynnosci i Vosiedzen Akademii Umiejetnosci w Krakowie. 1912, t.xvii, no. 13, pp. 5-13. The translation has been improved by the editors with reference to the Polish version. 201

Malinowski's early writings well-known kinship terms. Again, in order to understand how these two different forms of kinship organization work one beside the other, we must study them in connection with the tribal society. Associations of men in Australia differ by their democratic character from kindred organizations elsewhere: the secret organization of males embraces all the men in each tribe. Outside it there are only women and children; but these are strictly excluded from all the mysteries, and death is often the penalty for any infringement of forbidden secrets. The best known and most typical feature of these organizations are the initiation ceremonies. They exist in all Australian tribes without exception, and possess a series of common characteristics. In all the tribes they are compulsory; to the initiated, they give a new social status, a new name and tribal badges (scars, mutilations, such as the extraction of a tooth, circumcision, subincision). Connected with this, they contain severe ordeals. They introduce essential changes in the sexual life of the initiated, and also in his diet (numerous food taboos). All the uninitiated (women and children, and exceptionally the few strangers present) are strictly excluded. The initiated undergo prolonged seclusion and isolation during the ceremonies and afterwards (from some months to some years); during this time they are submitted to the strict control of the old men, who teach them tribal traditions, selfcontrol and obedience. But in spite of these common features, the initiation ceremonies vary in other respects, according to the tribe. Keeping in view important differences only, the ceremonies may be classed under two types. One of them comprises a relatively small area, the S. Eastern tribes, chiefly those of Victoria and N. S. Wales; the other extends to the Southern, Central, Northern and N. Eastern tribes. We know very little about the tribes of West Australia. Among the S. Eastern tribes the chief ordeal consists in drawing a tooth. The other tribes perform circumcision and the terrible operation of subincision. Another very important difference between these two types consists in the fact, that in the S. Eastern area there is only one initiation which every male undergoes at about the time of puberty. Among the remaining tribes there exists a whole series of progressive initiations, the first of which takes place very early 202

Tribal male associations in Australia between seven and ten years of age, and the last only at the age of about thirty or later. From one tribe to another, the number of initiations varies: usually, there are from three to five different ceremonies. We must lay stress on the fact, that our information as to this point is scanty; we know very little about it, the ceremonies of the higher degrees being kept a profound secret by the aborigines. Initiation (or several initiations according to the different customs) must be undergone as the condition for marrying. The age at which marriage is allowed is apparently rather late, as a rule about thirty; in the S. Eastern tribes marriage seems to be allowed earlier. But owing to the scarcity of women through female infanticide and the appropriation of young females by old men, young men are seldom married before thirty, or even later. As a consequence, there exists a class of unmarried men. It is an important feature that these men occupy a separate camp, lead a life apart from the others and often wander about, and hunt on their own account. This bachelors' camp in Australia is a very primitive form of the men's house, a widespread and notable institution of higher savage societies. It is also interesting that the sexual life of these young men seems to consist, to a certain extent, of homosexual practices. It is only temporarily and during tribal gatherings that they have access to women. We may say that the initiations, as well as the norms and customs referring to sexual life and marriage, establish three degrees of age among the males: children, youths and married men. Moreover there exists the age class of old men. In certain tribes, as mentioned above, there are initiations which some men undergo late in life. It is possible besides to adduce a series of social functions which determine this age grade. (a) There are special names, honorific titles given to old, experienced and venerable men. (b) The food restrictions imposed upon every male at initiation are only slowly and gradually removed; thus old men have distinct and striking privileges in the matter of food (the taboos reserve the best and most nutritious fare for them). (c) Old men possess a series of sexual privileges. (d) They wield the greatest personal and political power. These privileges clearly differentiate the group of old men. 203

Malinowski's early writings Such is, in brief outline, the description of the tribal associations of men in Australia. It has been sketched merely to afford a basis for some remarks of a general character. When we proceed to a theoretical analysis of the facts described we are met by fundamental difficulties at the very outset. In the treatment of social institutions among savages there are as yet no definite theoretical principles; neither the method nor the direction which such investigations ought to take has been finally settled. Speaking simply we do not know when to consider certain phenomena as 'explained* and different authors work out their explanation in different ways. In general, the evolutionist treatment of ethnological facts is prevalent. An institution is considered as explained when its 'origins' are found and its evolution is traced. This method however has certain weak sides, especially as concerns our notion of 'origins' and it ought not to be the only standpoint from which social institutions are analysed. It is in these very social institutions of the savage Australians that ethnologists usually look for primitive forms. H. Schurtz, for instance, finds in Australia the pure forms of age grades, but the description of age grades in Australia, as given by this author, is very unsatisfactory as it is based upon totally insufficient ethnographic materials. Even Prof. Hutton Webster, although he employs a much more scientific method of inquiry, finds in Australia the most primitive features of secret societies. But this standpoint is methodologically unsound. In order to deal properly with this question (of evolution) it is necessary to inquire which features of the Australian male societies are dependent upon conditions essentially Australian. It is impossible to assert that these features were once common to every race that was on a low development level; for other races have gone through conditions radically different from those of the Australians. But it is legitimate to consider as general stages of evolution those aspects of the Australian organizations which are intimately connected with such fundamental facts as must be held to be common to all primitive peoples at some stage of their development. It is easy to show by a detailed analysis that the great influence of old men, based upon the organization of the male tribal society, and connected with the development of collective magic, as well as with the pacific character of the Australians, is the outcome of local Australian conditions. On the other hand, the Australian form of the bachelors' camp, the democratic character of Australian 204

Tribal male associations in Australia societies, and many features of the initiation ceremonies, cannot be brought into any dependence upon specific, local conditions and stand in connection with the primitive state of Australian society. We may therefore consider these facts as general features of early associations of males, without finding in them the 'origin' of these social organizations. But when we have settled this question and introduced a broader evolutional treatment, the whole of our task is not yet done. We often find that these very answers to the question of 'origins' are not really evolutional, that is, do not show how the primitive form of an institution came into being. In many cases the answers give the cause of the institution [as] sociological, biological, occasionally metaphysical, [and] sometimes they give its aim and purpose. But there is great confusion in this matter. The sociological reason, the function or task that a given institution performs in society, is often confused with its aim as subjectively conceived by society. Keeping these two different questions strictly apart, we shall try broadly to answer both. To begin with the first, our task is to show what the chief social functions of these male societies are, what part they play in the integration of the various other institutions and wherein lies their general importance for the whole social structure. 1. The male associations are the basis of sexual separation. In every tribe males only can be initiated; the women are kept strictly outside, the penalties for any encroachment on the mystery being considerable. On the other hand, the tribal society performs a series of most important functions. All the acts of their highly developed magico-religious cult (some of which possess a distinct economic aspect) are the duty of the initiated exclusively. The whole public and political life of the tribe rests upon this organization; by its means women are consequently secluded from public life. 2. The tribal society is also the basis of another important system of division, the division into age grades. The importance of age, as a principle of social differentiation, has been fully shown by H. Schurtz in his well known work Altersklassen und Mdnnerbunde. In Australia the whole social hierarchy is based upon the age classification. 3. At the initiation rites, as well as during their life in the bachelors' camp, the young men are under the strict control of 205

Malinowski's early writings the elders. By imbuing the youths with deep respect for tribal traditions, by showing their magical power and by maintaining a hard regime and imposing severe ordeals, the elders acquire great influence over the younger men and bring them under control. The tribal societies, by their educational function and by the establishment of a hierarchy of age, are the basis of social order and government, as these are to be found in Australia. 4. As has been mentioned above, the boy leaves the parental camp and its influence at an early age. During initiation and afterwards in the bachelors' camp, the class system plays an important part and regulates the mutual position and the various functions of the initiated. Later, their sexual life and marriage are largely influenced by the class to which each man belongs. This may account in a considerable measure for the contradiction between individual kinship (corresponding to the family) and group kinship (corresponding to the class division). The whole life of a male, after he leaves his parents fire circle, goes to create bonds of clan or group relationship, as the result of the various functions of the class. On the contrary the daily life with his family, before initiation, attaches him with bonds of individual kinship to his father, mother and other personal relatives. These remarks furnish the sociological raison d'etre of the Australian tribal societies, showing them to be necessary in the social organization of the Australian communities. The inquiry must now be continued on quite different lines, if we wish to know the purpose of the initiation ceremonies as conceived by the society amidst which it exists. Evidently, Australian savages cannot have any idea of the objective aim of these ceremonies, from a sociological point of view. Nevertheless each institution is somehow reflected in the collective ideas of the community, especially if expressed in external, palpable forms, as ceremonies or rites. The initiation ceremonies are likely to be the objects of collective ideas. We cannot, however, assume the latter at will, but must infer them methodically from facts. Some rites express certain ideas very plainly; it is allowable to suppose that the meaning of these rites is clear for the savages themselves. The supposition becomes certitude when it has been ascertained by the observer that the natives themselves formulate this meaning. Thus, the natives undeniably possess some idea of the moral 206

Tribal male associations in Australia and educational importance of these initiations. They also clearly perceive that initiation brings about separation of sexes. In some of the ceremonies there is a clearly expressed belief that during their performance the initiated dies and undergoes reincarnation. A careful survey of all the ideas connected with the initiations is indispensable for a full description of these phenomena. But here we are largely dependent upon the observer, who may have wrongly understood and interpreted these rites, or used insufficient caution in examining the natives as to their meaning. There are facts however, of which the interpretation affords a certain, though only general, knowledge about the collective ideas referring to these initiations. By a study of the traditions which tell how these ceremonies originated, we can form some conclusions as to the collective views concerning these rites. As an example we may refer to the myths of the Arunta tribe, which we know best. There exists a series of stories about the creation of the world and of man. At the beginning of their existence men had no separate fingers nor toes; neither their eyes nor their ears were open. Then there appeared among these tribes a totemic culture-hero who came from the north. He cut asunder and shaped the human bodies, their legs, arms, fingers and toes; and he opened their eyes and ears. Afterwards he performed the rites of circumcision and subincision. In some tribes he was not able to perform these initiations; in these the males remained 'incomplete men' objects of scorn and laughing stocks. Taking this story as a typical example, let us draw a few conclusions. We have before us a myth of a very primitive form. It contains no answer to the question why circumcision and subincision were introduced but only relates how they were introduced. For the natives the cultural and moral value of these rites is quite unquestionable. They only ask how and by whom these ceremonies were instituted. Circumcision and subincision are conceived as the latest stages of human evolution, they are put on the same level with the opening of the eyes of Australian society, the circumcised and subincised male, is the only complete, fully developed man. There is consequently no room for the question, how the aborigines conceive the aim and causes of initiations. For the natives these rites are a material necessity, so strongly is the need of them impressed upon the minds by tradition. It is also 207

Malinowski's early writings remarkable that the natives conceive the essence of these ceremonies to consist in their most external side, namely the mutilations. These conclusions, although of a quite general kind, are of no small importance, since they afford a firm basis for our knowledge of the notion held by the natives themselves, as a social body, with regard to these rites and ceremonies.

208

•6 THE ECONOMIC ASPECTS OF THE INTICHIUMA CEREMONIES1*

In his new treatise, among other questions, Prof. Frazer attempts to determine the extent to which economic development has been influenced by totemism.2 The chief economic function of totemism lies in an 'elementary division of labour', and this Prof. Frazer sees in the intichiuma ceremonies performed by the Central Australians.3 'Each clan is believed to possess a magical control over its totem, and this magical power it is bound to exercise for the good of the community . . . The principle on which they (the ceremonies) are implicitly based is the division of labour, a sound economic principle, which properly applied cannot fail to be fruitful of good results: but misapplied by totemism to magic it is necessarily barren'.4 And in a short discussion the author shows that not only on this side but also in other directions, where indeed it might be expected to further economic development, totemism has had little influence on economic progress. If this view of the matter be accepted, it follows that the economic aspect of totemism possesses very little scientific interest.5 It seems, however, that our evidence even as it stands might, if discussed somewhat in detail, throw considerable light on the point at issue. The intichiuma ceremonies, for example, may be shown to possess quite a special theoretical interest for ethnological economics if viewed not as primitive forms of division of labour, but from a slightly different aspect, that is, as an attempt by means of the totemic ideas to organize the community and to impose upon it a collective and regular system of labour. The •Originally published in English. Festsckrift tillegnad Edvard Westermarck i anledning av hans femtiodrsdag den 20 november (Helsingfors: Simelli, 1912), pp. 81-108. 209

Malinowski's early writings direct aim of these ceremonies, it may be demonstrated, involves the attainment of the main economic ends of a savage community, and the aborigines indeed sometimes use these ceremonies directly for practical ends.6 This proposition must be discussed at length in order to be made clear, but what must be borne in mind from the beginning is, that all these qualifications, such as 'organized', 'collective', 'regular' etc., to be properly understood, must be referred to the low standard of the Australian aboriginal society; that is, not as describing fully developed features, but rudimentary, although unmistakable, beginnings. I propose firstly to show by a detailed analysis of facts - each tribe being discussed separately so far as the information permits that the intichiuma ceremonies do involve organization, collective effort, regular application of energy, etc., and afterwards to demonstrate that these features give an important economic aspect to the ceremonies, since the work done during their progress is of a higher, more economic, type than that performed by the aborigines at any other period.7 To this end it will be necessary briefly to discuss the mode of working of savages in general. II

1. The intichiuma ceremonies involve organized and collective labour of the community. The local group is on the whole the most important unit of social organization among the Arunta natives. It is the unit of their totemic division and of their local and tribal division; it is the seat of their meagre central authority in the form of a headman (alatunja), and it is the most important unit in the inter-tribal relations.8 Now this social unit is intimately connected with the intichiuma ceremonies.9 The headman of the group is also at the head of these ceremonies.10 It may be therefore safely said that the intichiuma ceremonies are a well organized action of the community: the alatunja at the head, only members of the totem present, and strangers excluded.11 The performance of these ceremonies is one of the chief functions of the local group, and the Ceremonies themselves are essentially based upon and connected with its organization. Although the alatunja has a leading part in the intichiuma ceremonies, all the adult men take an active part in them, and 210

The economic aspects of the intichiuma ceremonies hence it is proper to assert that they are a collective action of the local group. Among the Kaitish and allied tribes (Unmatjera, Worgaia, etc.) these ceremonies are also associated with the totemic Local Group, but men not only of the other totems but even of the other moiety are allowed to be present, a thing which would be quite impossible in the Arunta.12 The headman, moreover, in these tribes performs the bulk of the work involved in the ceremonies, and they are therefore not so markedly a collective action as with the Arunta.13 Among the Warramunga and allied tribes the influence of non-totemic tribesmen of the other moiety and their part in the performance in the intichiuma are conspicuous. Members of the totem and of the same moiety must perform the ceremony. Still, members of the other moiety have to initiate the proceedings and to invite the clansmen to the performance; they must supply all the implements and make all the preparations. Thus we see the intichiuma become less exclusive and more independent of the totemic unit as we advance northwards, although they are yet connected with and dependent upon the exogamic class and totemic clan divisions of the tribes. It may be added that in all these tribes the ceremonies seem to involve collective action, whereas in the Urabunna nation (south of the Arunta) they depend more upon individual performance.14 2. The intichiuma require a considerable amount of labour, involving hardships and privations, and need to be performed with great care and with a full appreciation of their importance. We read that 'these ceremonies are perhaps the most important ones' and 'most solemn of all their ceremonies',15 and we are informed in another place that the ceremonial and religious life 'occupies by far the greater part of his (the adult man's) thoughts. The sacred ceremonies, which appear very trivial matters to the white man, are most serious matters to him'.16 It follows therefore that the intichiuma ceremonies rank first and foremost in the life of the adult native, and that all work done in them is executed with great attention and full appreciation of its importance. Especially is this the case with the Central Tribes (Arunta, Ilpirra, Kaitish, etc.) ,17 but the statement is, to a greater or less extent, true of all tribes alike. That the work involves a considerable amount of labour, privation and hardship is shown plainly in the detailed description given by Spencer and Gillen. 211

Malinowski's early writings Among the Arunta during the Undirringita ceremony no man may eat any kind of food, unless he is very old: this ceremony lasts for about one day.18 The emu ceremony is very elaborate and lasts for two days.19 The undiara ceremony lasts for forty-eight hours.20 The intichiuma of the kangaroo totem takes several days.21 In all these ceremonies the drawings on the ground are made with blood, which is very freely poured out by the performers. The preparations for these ceremonies are very elaborate and apparently last much longer than the ceremony itself.22 Among the Kaitish the ceremony of the grass seed totem lasts for a long time; from the details of the description23 we possess it may be inferred that it extends over several days, if not over a couple of weeks. During this time the bulk of the work in connection with the ceremony falls upon the headman, who has to gather and distribute food, tend the churinga, etc., and who is also obliged to observe sexual abstinence throughout the period. But all the others present in camp are also busy on occasions during this period, and the members of the totem are at the same time subject to food taboos. The rain intichiuma of the same tribe lasts for two days and nights. The headman and the old men of the totem must observe sexual abstinence during that time. The men and women of the camp go out in separate directions, the members of either sex going collectively in quest of game and vegetable food respectively.24 Tn the Unmatjera tribe the ceremonies are closely similar to those of the Kaitish'.25 In the Worgaia tribe the headman of the large yam totem performs, with the assistance of men of the other moiety, several totemic ceremonies. In order to make the yams grow he 'sings' to them for about two weeks. The intichiuma of the Warramunga tribe 'occupy a considerable amount of time' and are 'lengthy' and 'elaborate'. 26 And the white cockatoo ceremony appears to be toilsome in the highest degree. This is the only ceremony accompanied by a magical rite to secure the increase of the totem. All the other ceremonies consist of dramatic representations referring to the alcheringa.27 Analogous are the ceremonies of the other tribes of the Warramunga nation (Tjingilli, Umbaia, etc.). Much less elaborate are the ceremonies of the tribes south of the Arunta, the Urabunna and kindred tribes. The ceremonies of the rain totems and of the Snake totems described by Messrs. Spencer and Gillen28 are very simple and take, together with the preparations, probably no more than a few hours each. 212

The economic aspects of the intichiuma ceremonies And the same is true of the intichiuma ceremonies of the Wonkgongaru.29 This bare recital of facts does not seem perhaps quite conclusive to establish the proposition now before us. But it must be remembered that the writers did not pay any special attention to the point at issue, and that consequently we possess no direct statements about the amount of actual labour expended in these ceremonies.30 For this very reason, however, the few casual remarks on this subject are the more persuasive. And then it must always be borne in mind that stress is to be laid much more on the quality of labour and on the psychological conditions under which it is performed (full sense of importance, attention, scrupulousness, concentration) than on the mere quantity of labour involved. As regards the quantity of labour, it is sufficient for our present purpose to have shown that relative to the other occupations of the natives the intichiuma ceremonies, with all the preparatory business, represent a very considerable amount of work. 3. These ceremonies are performed regularly and periodically: they are connected with the seasons or directly associated with the breeding of animals and with the flowering of plants. This statement refers more especially to the Arunta nation. In the Arunta tribe the exact decision as to when an intichiuma ceremony should be performed lies in the hands of the alatunja*1 Still 'the matter is largely dependent on the nature of the season. The intichiuma are closely associated with the breeding of the animals and flowering of the plants' and each ceremony is naturally held at a certain season.32 'In the case of many of the totems it is just when there is promise of the approach of a good season that it is customary to hold the ceremony'.33 We are not explicitly informed how far such ceremonies are regular or whether it is compulsory to perform them every year. From one passage — in which it is said that whenever there is a plentiful supply of a given totem animal or plant without its intichiuma being performed, the benefit is ascribed to an intichiuma performed by the iruntarinia spirits - it may be inferred that the performance of the ceremonies was not absolutely regular. At all events, considering the great importance ascribed to them, it appears probable that the omissions were not very frequent, and that to a certain degree they were regular. 213

Malinowski's early writings Their periodicity is best shown in their close association with certain seasons, which seems to be quite a general feature. The majority of them are performed immediately before the season when the respective animal or plant becomes plentiful. That this is true of the Arunta tribe is evident from the detailed description we possess of the intichiumas of the Witchetty grub,34 Inimita grub,35 Bandicoot and Hakea flower.36 Among the Kaitish tribe parts of the performance are associated with the growth of the Erlipinna (grass-seed).37 Among the Unmatjera a grub ceremony precedes the season when the grub is plentiful,38 among the Worgaia the yam ceremony is associated with the growth of this plant.39 These are only isolated examples of the association among the Arunta nation of the intichiuma ceremonies with seasons. We are however explicitly informed that this association with the season of abundant food supply is quite a general feature of the intichiumas among these tribes.40 As regards the periodicity and regularity of the intichiuma ceremonies among the Warramunga and allied tribes, we possess no information, but since among these tribes the ceremonies are not associated with any season or event of animal or vegetable life, it is possible that they are neither so regular nor markedly periodical as is the case among the Arunta. 4. The aim of these ceremonies in general is to promote the increase of totemic animals or plants. Although this statement possesses general validity, yet conspicuous differences exist between different nations or groups of tribes. The increase of totemic animals or plants has a practical or economic significance among the Arunta; among the Warramunga on the other hand the performance of these ceremonies takes place chiefly from religious motives; while among the Coastal Tribes of the Gulf of Carpentaria all economic purpose is absent from the ceremonies. As regards the Arunta, we read in Spencer and Gillen that the object of the ceremonies is to 'secure the increase of the animal or plant which gives its name to the totem'.41 And Strehlow says: 'Der Zweck der Auffuhrung der Mbatjalkatiuma-Zeremonien ist der, dass das Totem-Tier oder die Totem-Vflanze dadurch sich vermehren und stark und krdftig werden soil'.42 Now we must distinguish plainly between a purely general aim of multiplying the totem on the one hand, proceeding as it does from traditional 214

The economic aspects of the intichiuma ceremonies command and for the most part from religious motives, and on the other any practical idea of increasing by such multiplication the food supply of the tribe, an idea which might well be perfectly absent from the native mind. As a matter of fact, Strehlow inclines to deny the existence of any such practical motives among the Arunta. According to him the multiplication of food supply is 'not the root idea of the Aranda and Luritja Totemism'.43 The natives have never spontaneously advanced any view of this kind, and although, when the matter was suggested by Strehlow, they understood it at once and acknowledged that their food supply was increased by the multiplication of the totem, he does not trust an answer obtained in this way as a representation of the native point of view. Messrs. Spencer and Gillen on the other hand affirm that the idea of increasing food supply is present in the native mind in connection with the performance of the intichiuma ceremonies, and many of the facts given by them support this view. For instance when they write that 'if a plentiful supply of, say witchetty grub or emu appears without the performance of intichiuma by the peoples of the respective totems, then the supplies are attributed to the performance of intichiuma by friendly iruntarimia'.44 It is plain that the natives bring the food supply into a 'causal' connection with the intichiuma. The same attitude of mind is illustrated by the ceremonies of the rain clan among the Arunta. After such a ceremony, 'if rain follows within a reasonable time, then of course it is due to the influence of the Intichiuma';45 and, 'when there has been a long drought and water is badly needed, the rain or water totem will hold their intichiuma',46 Here the connection between the magical ceremony and natural phenomena seems to be perfectly clear to the native mind and the performance to be used directly for practical ends. There are yet other features in the ceremonies themselves which seem obviously to show that the purely religious idea of multiplying a certain totem is associated also with the practical idea of increasing the food supply. For example, after an intichiuma ceremony, when the particular form of food, the totem, which has been the object of the performance, has been stored away in the camp, some part of it is distributed ceremonially by the headman among the tribe. This seems to indicate that the community, in receiving the food from the hands of the totemic headman, regards it as a direct result of the 215

Malinowski's early writings ceremony. Such evidence as this tends to confirm Messrs. Spencer and Gillen's opinion, and Herr Strehlow's scepticism appears to be unfounded. Obviously the multiplication of the totem has no practical aim in some cases, since there are many totems which serve no useful purpose and some which are even harmful to man.47 But this does not weaken our conclusions as far as edible animals and plants are concerned. At any rate we know beyond doubt that in a certain number of cases the intichiuma ceremonies are performed with a direct practical aim. Strehlow himself makes a most interesting statement bearing on this point. He says that in several cases the natives give, besides the motive of traditional command, yet other motives for the performance of these ceremonies:48 So wird der Mondkult aufgefiirt, damit der Mond heller leuchte und man dann besser Opossums jagen kann; der Feuerkult wird im Winter abgehalten, damit das Feuer mehr Kraft zum Warmen erhalt; im Sommer kann er vor einer Jagdexpedition aufgefuhrt sein, auf der man Buschfeuer wirksam anziinden will, um das Wild einzuschliessen und zusammenzutreiben. Der Ratapa-Kult wird aufgefuhrt, damit die Ratapa aus den Felsen und Baumen heraus kommen und in die Weiber eingehen; der Worra-Kult, damit die Jungen mehr Freude am Labara-Spiel erhalten. Vor einer Strafexpedition kann der Ininja-Kult abgehalten werden, damit das Unternehmen gelingt.49 In all these cases the natives have adapted the intichiuma ceremony to secure some practical end in addition to its main aim. The practical end of some of the intichiuma among the South Central tribes (Dieri, Urabunna, and their kindred) is apparent from the descriptions given by Gason and Spencer and Gillen. The former writer, for instance, says: 'Whenever it is a bad season for iguanas, one of the principal articles of their food, some of the natives proceed to make them';50 and he has much the same to say about the rain and wild fowl ceremony of the Dieri,51 while Spencer and Gillen have a similar statement to make about the rain ceremony of the Urabunna.52 Among the Kaitish, Unmatjera, and Worgaia the intichiuma Ceremonies have apparently the same ends as they have among the Arunta (and consequently the same practical applications).53 Among the Warramunga the religious aim of these ceremonies is much more prominent, and this is illustrated by the fact that 216

The economic aspects of the intichiuma ceremonies there is on record only one magical ceremony for the multiplication of a totem (the white cockatoo). A similar prominence is accorded to the religious aspect of the ceremonies among the Tjingilli, Umbaia, Walpari, and Wulmala.54 The Coastal Tribes of the Gulf of Carpentaria - Anula, Mara, Binbinga, and others - exhibit the most marked difference from all other tribes.55 They have not been included in the foregoing analysis because their ceremonies are as a matter of fact mere vestiges of the intichiuma as found among the Central Tribes. The Coastal Tribes have no obligatory, regular, periodical ceremonies of a magical nature. The multiplication of animals and plants is known by them to be independent of any such performances, and they make no attempt to assist or increase it by magical means. And although they do perform some magical acts intended to multiply certain animals and plants, to make rain, and so forth, yet these performances are not connected with the acts of totemic cult, which among them are merely traditional actions, referring to and illustrating the history of their ancestors, and having no such object as the multiplication of the totemic species. The magical rites with a practical object are still associated with the totemic clan, or at least the right moiety, to which equally the objects used in the ceremony must belong. We possess a description of the rites connected with the dugong, crocodile, rain, etc.,56 from which it appears that they are usually performed by specialized magicians. Analogous to the state of things among the Coastal Tribes is that found in the Torres Straits Islands in as far as there seem to be magical rites for the multiplication of animals, quite independent from the regular totemic cult.57 But it is interesting to note that the Torres Straits rites seem to have much more in common with the intichiuma of the Arunta than the rites of the Coastal Tribes. Besides being based upon the organization of the clan, the Torres Straits rites are performed in each clan exclusively by its own members in the Kwod or totemic centre; they are periodical, as we read that they take place when the first dugong or the first turtle is caught: they are performed collectively, but have no very elaborate ceremonial; their aim is distinctly practical: the attraction of dugongs and the multiplication of turtles. They are differentiated from the fully-developed intichiuma by their separation from the religious cult, their exclusively practical aim, their less elaborate ritual; and from the rites of the Coastal 217

Malinowski's early writings Tribes by their regularity, their collectiveness, and their greater social importance. in I have tried to show that the labour performed in the intichiuma ceremonies is based upon social organization and collective activity, and that relatively to the standard of culture of the aborigines the labour is considerable and is performed with forethought, attention, appreciation of its importance, regularly, periodically, and with a definite aim. In order to see all these features more clearly, it is necessary to consider them in relation to the other forms of activity of the aborigines, practical as well as religious. Unfortunately we are only scantily informed as to the different forms of economic activity pursued by the tribes in question. From the short description of the mode of hunting among the Arunta given by Spencer and Gillen,58 it would seem that these natives do not know any collective or elaborate methods of hunting, but secure their game merely by individual skill. Strehlow, however, in the short passage quoted above mentions some collective modes of hunting, but the information is much too meagre to be of much assistance. At all events, from all we know about Australian hunting and fishing in general, it is safe to assert that in no form of these occupations is there such a degree of organization, division of functions, forethought, regularity and earnest concentration as we find in the intichiuma. From the other forms of religious and magical ceremonies found in these tribes the intichiuma are sharply distinguished by their association with seasons, with the breeding of animals or the development of plants; in short by their general aim of promoting the supply of useful things, an aim intrinsically economic, and generally recognized as such by the natives. These ceremonies possess yet other economic features worthy of brief mention. It is a rule with the Arunta nation that after the intichiuma ceremonies the totemic animal or plant is taboo. When in due course the totemic animal or plant becomes abundant it is first stored and then, after a certain interval, ceremonially distributed among the tribe. In this procedure certain rudiments of a system of protection to animals and plants during the period of immaturity and scarcity appear to be unmistakable, and we may perceive also the beginning of an attempt to 218

The economic aspects of the intichiuma ceremonies make provision in times of abundance against periods when the supply of food will be otherwise limited. The examination of a few examples will make the position clearer. Among the Arunta, after the Witchetty grub intichiuma, the grub is strictly taboo to the members of the totem, and it may be eaten by others only sparingly and with special precautions.59 'When, after intichiuma, the grub becomes plentiful and fully grown, the witchetty grub men, women and children go out daily and collect large supplies, which they cook and then store it away in pitchis and pieces of bark. At the same time those who do not belong to the totem are out collecting. The supply of grubs only lasts a very short time, and when they grow less plentiful the store of cooked material is taken to the Ungunja or men's camp',60 where it is ceremonially distributed by the alatunja of the Witchetty grub clan. In the case of this ceremony, it will be observed, an essential part of the procedure is the provision of food for future consumption. It would be of great assistance in elucidating the point before us if we had more information regarding the purely economic aspect of the ceremony: for example, whether any really considerable provision is made and for how long a period the supply lasts after the ceremonial distribution; but in any case the fact that some attempt is made to store the grub during the period when the supply is abundant leads one to suppose that some real practical importance may attach to this part of the performance. Moreover the abstention imposed upon the clan, not only in this case but in regard to the Irriakura bulb, the Idnimita grub, and the bandicoot, which are strictly taboo to the members of the clan before they become plentiful,61 implies some form of protection for animals and plants and hence some sacrifice of the present for the future, an essentially economic virtue and the prerequisite of capital. It may be mentioned in passing that although we possess only these few detailed examples of the ceremonial gathering and distribution of food, the custom is widespread in the Arunta and kindred tribes.62 IV

We have seen that the intichiuma ceremonies present certain characteristics which seem unmistakably to suggest some relation 219

Malinowski's early writings between the magical and the economic facts of the life of the aborigines, and it is necessary to attempt by a more detailed analysis to determine whether this relation does in fact exist, and if so to formulate the relation with some approach to precision. It may first be remarked that magical practices, when, like the intichiuma ceremonies they possess a more or less direct economic aim,63 seem to have for quite general reasons an important bearing upon the problem of economic evolution. If magic is a form of primitive technique and if it be assumed that in the course of evolution it develops, at least to a certain extent, into rational technical methods, then all enterprises performed by means of magic may develop into economic enterprises. The only difference between them lies in the fact that economic enterprise brings forth positive material results, whereas magic is based upon fallacy and its results are illusory generally speaking. But as magical technique develops into rational, this difference vanishes. On the other hand it does not exist for the native, who actually perceives the material results of his magical practices. These considerations show that it is necessary to look for analogies, connections, and continuity between the magical and economic sides of his life and that if, as in the case of the intichiuma ceremonies, we independently find that magical performances possess an economic aspect, we may reasonably expect an examination of such ceremonies to have an important bearing upon the question of primitive economics and economic evolution. The totemic division of labour, being intimately bound up with and dependent upon actually fallacious ideas of magic,64 was necessarily doomed to disruption once the fallacies became patent. But the more general aspect, analysed in this paper (the organization of labour, involving all the qualities specified above) was not bound up with any false principle. And the development of illusory magical ideas into rational methods of tilling the ground or hunting could perfectly well proceed on the basis of the same organization of labour; the periodical outburst of collective energy would have only to be directed into the right channel. There is no reason to suppose that the community, having been trained by the magical rites of and connected with the intichiuma ceremonies to observe the seasons, to make provision for the future, to protect animals and plants, etc. - would have abandoned these principles, when the totemic ideas underlying 220

The economic aspects of the intichiuma ceremonies these ceremonies had lost hold upon their minds. At that time society would have been undoubtedly developed enough to recognize the economic value of this acquisition.

For reasons of space I cannot discuss the intichiuma ceremonies in their bearing upon the general question of economic evolution: nor would such a discussion be of great value, for I do not believe in any universal scheme of evolution, fulfilled in every case among all the races of mankind. The problem of economic evolution ought to be treated separately in regard to each ethnological area and in the light of the special conditions obtaining in each of them. I wish therefore only to indicate that a comparison of the various ceremonies of the Central and North Central Tribes of Australia and the Torres Straits Islanders in their relation to the intichiuma ceremonies may suggest to us certain conclusions of some interest in this connection. These ceremonies undergo a deep change in their nature when we proceed from the Coastal Tribes of the Gulf of Carpentaria southwards. It may be said that they gain more and more in social importance as well as in economic character, reaching the highest pitch in the Arunta tribe, and becoming simpler and less important again when we come to the Urabunna. Putting on one side for the moment the Torres Straits Islanders, we may for our present purpose divide the tribes into four groups: 1) the Coastal Tribes, 2) the Warramunga nation, 3) the Arunta nation and 4) the Urabunna and Dieri nation. The difference between the ceremonies of these four groups is most marked in the change of aim. In the Coastal Tribes they are only representative acts of the totemic cult, the magical ceremonies for multiplication of animals or plants being quite independent of the cult, and playing apparently a subordinate part in the beliefs as well as in the social life of the natives. Among the Warramunga the intichiuma ceremonies have for their aim the multiplication of the totem, but the practical aspect of it is not very prominent, as appears from the fact that the ceremonies consist nearly exclusively of dramatic, representative performances, only one magical rite associated with them being recorded. Passing southwards, the practical aim appears to be 221

Malinowski's early writings more and more prominent, and it reaches its climax among the Arunta, where in some cases the ceremonies are used exclusively for practical purposes. As we have seen, there are other concomitant changes, the ceremonies becoming more exclusively associated with the organization of the Local Group as we pass from the Coastal and Northern Tribes to the Arunta. In the Arunta tribe too we find that in comparison with the other tribes northwards (Kaitish, Unmatjera, etc.) the labour is more markedly collective. And in the same tribe the ceremonies are apparently most elaborate and possess the greatest social importance.65 Among the Urabunna and Dieri the ceremonies are much shorter and less elaborate, but their practical aim is unmistakable. These are the summary results yielded by a comparison of the different tribes. Their interpretation from the evolutionary standpoint presents some difficulties. It is obviously impossible to place all these forms in one progressive series. The Arunta form is undoubtedly on the whole the most fully developed: but it is impossible to regard it as a higher stage of the rudimentary forms found among the Coastal Tribes, and still less can it be regarded as a higher stage of the forms found among the Torres Straits Islanders, as these latter peoples are on a much higher level of culture than any of the Australian tribes. There is no reason, on the other hand, to suppose that the fully-developed form found among the Arunta ought necessarily in the course of evolution to undergo separation of its religious from its economic side, with a concomitant diminution in the importance of the economic aspect of the ceremonies, an assumption moreover contradicted by the fact that among the Torres Straits Islanders the ceremonies show forms much more akin to the forms found among the Arunta, than are those to be found among the Coastal Tribes. The only rational scheme, so far as I can see, is to regard all these forms as different and more or less independent products of evolution of some more primitive form underlying them all. One of these developments took the course of the separation of magical rite from religious cult: another the course of the expansion of the dramatic, representative element; in a third the economic aspect came to the highest degree of prominence. It is easy roughly to account for the difference between the Coastal Tribes and the Arunta by pointing to the different conditions of life obtaining in the two countries.66 On the coast (and in Torres 222

The economic aspects of the intichiuma ceremonies Straits) subsistence is relatively easy to obtain, and the natives can conceive that animals and plants multiply without any special care being taken about the matter. Among the Central Tribes man is much more dependent upon the coincidence of favourable conditions, and such coincidence is quite impossible for him to secure by any rational method within his power; hence he attempts to secure it by magic, in the exercise of which he is more persistent and strenuous than he is on the coast. It is hardly possible to account by any difference in natural conditions for the difference between the Warramunga and the Arunta. It is important however to note, that the general higher development among the Arunta coincides with the more marked economic aspect which the ceremonies there assume. It is apparent therefore that if the intichiuma ceremonies have anywhere developed marked economic forms, special conditions have been required to secure this; in particular, a food supply not so abundant as to remove from the community all anxiety about subsistence, but dependent upon certain natural events sufficiently irregular to prevent a state of happy carelessness, while not so intermittent as to destroy all hope and expectation. This state of things is realized in Central Australia, but on the other hand the country is so hopelessly barren that no higher degree of economic evolution is possible, nor could any social phenomena whatsoever induce economic progress in a country where there is no room for it. But if we suppose a country where the special conditions mentioned above are in existence and where also nature affords resources which man may utilize to supply his higher economic wants, then in such a country we may suppose that ceremonies or acts of the intichiuma type may well have played an important part in economic evolution by educating society in the most potent principles of economic progress. I would still like to emphasize this point: that if I attribute to the ceremonies in question any importance in economic evolution, I by no means suppose that any evolutionary development could have occurred in a simple and direct manner. What appears to be strongly suggested by the Australian evidence is that these ceremonies under certain conditions educate society in the exercise of forms of labour capable of economic utilization. If we assume that ceremonies of this type have been frequent among totemic peoples (an assumption in support of which Prof. Frazer adduces a number of facts), it will be easy to conceive that such 223

Malinowski's early writings educational influence may have been very frequent and wide. This will appear still clearer if we enter into an investigation of the psychological aspect of the problem apart from its connection with any evolutionary scheme. VI

Interesting and charming as may be all the speculations about the dim past of man and about the probable course of evolution, the most important aim of science remains the correct and exact description of facts. Like the theoretical branches of physics and chemistry, theoretical ethnology has for its express aim the interpretation and exact description of the results of field research and observation. The province of theory from this point of view is to afford exact concepts, discuss and analyse observed connections of facts, and foresee new ones. In the present case an attempt has been made to show that the magical rites of the intichiuma present an economic aspect, or, in other words, to find a connection between 'economic' and 'magic'. It is now necessary to define more precisely the word 'economic' as it is used in the present instance, and to show why the features of the intichiuma ceremonies, with which the preceding pages have dealt, are important from the economic point of view. It is also necessary to analyse more deeply the suggested connection between 'magic' and 'economic', to discuss whether it is accidental and superficial, or whether it is necessary and essential. If this connection is shown to be in fact necessary and essential, the present analysis may lead to some general principle or law, which could not be determined by induction from the few cases on record. To begin with the first point, let us attempt a preliminary definition of the word 'economic', and more especially of 'economic labour', as this will be important for our present purpose. The way in which man works at a low level of culture differs essentially from economically productive labour, that is from the labour required in an industrial enterprise of an advanced society. The difference lies not so much in the amount of work done — for the savage is capable of performing prolonged and exhaustive labour — but rather in the nature of the work done. Labour, as required in civilized economic enterprises, must essentially possess certain qualities: it must be systematic, done according to 224

The economic aspects of the intichiuma ceremonies some rational plan; it must be continuous, done for a certain length of time, and periodically repeated at regular intervals; it presupposes social organization and required forethought, constant self restraint and renewed volitional and intellectual effort. These qualities are indispensable to every kind of serious productive work, whether we take the workman in a big factory, the agricultural labourer, the clerk in an office, the student or the artist on his way to perfection. The savage is not capable of such labour. His attitude at work approaches much more nearly our attitude at play or sport. If we look through the statements on this subject which have been collected by Biicher and Ferrero, we see that such psychological acts as self-constraint, attention, mental effort are especially difficult for the savage. In all cases in which he endures prolonged exertion, as in war, dancing, hunting, and some highly skilled and elaborate technical achievements, certain elements like play, excitement, ecstasy, intoxication, rhythm can be pointed out - elements which act as stimuli and either supersede or render unnecessary free volitional effort.67 We may agree by way of preliminary definition to call economic labour that which possesses the quality required in civilized economic enterprises (mentioned above); that is, labour which is socially organized and collective, continuous, regular, and periodical, performed not according to the whim of the moment or some immediate impulse, but done with forethought according to a systematic plan and with due consciousness of its aim. A close inspection of facts has shown us that work done in the intichiuma ceremonies is the result of collective and organized activity. It is to a certain extent regular and periodic and connected with the seasons. It is performed with a definite object, namely with the object of increasing the totemic animal or plant. In some cases it is even applied to certain directly practical aims. The work done in these ceremonies is, in general, of considerable amount, it is done with full appreciation of its importance, with great care and attention, and is accompanied with toil, hardship and privation. Taking all these facts together, we may say that the labour performed in these ceremonies involves self-constraint, forethought, attention, free volitional effort and social organization, and that it is therefore according to our definition more economic than other forms of labour found in the tribes among which the ceremonies are performed. Now, as remarked above, whenever we find that the savage 225

Malinowski's early writings performed some considerable amount of work, or does work leading to notable material results - although not necessarily economic in our sense - in all such cases he acts under the immediate influence of some intense mental stimuli which force him into a form of labour normally repugnant to his nature. 68 The problem before us is to show that such stimuli are provided by the intichiuma ceremonies. The solution, after all that has been said, lies near at hand, and in providing it we gain at the same time an answer to the second question proposed for inquiry, viz., what is the connection between the economic aspect and the religious nature of the ceremonies? As a matter of fact the totemic ideas by which the labour in these ceremonies is organized and regulated possess the character required; from all the facts known about these tribes it is apparent that totemic traditions and ideas possess a powerful ascendancy over the mind of the natives. Upon totemic traditions and ideas is erected the framework of tribal society; they permeate the active social life of the tribe. The especially advanced form of labour found in the intichiuma ceremonies proceeds from and is borne along by the powerful complex of totemic ideas. This association of economic labour with totemic ideas, together with our knowledge of how powerful these latter are, affords a complete explanation of the economic aspect of the intichiuma ceremonies. On the other hand, the insight into the working of the religious and magic ideas upon the organization of labour, the fact that this association is a necessary and not an accidental one, enables us to obtain a more general view of the subject than the isolated instance of the intichiuma ceremonies would otherwise afford. The economic function of religious and magic ideas in general becomes an interesting and important subject of investigation, and the evolutionary scheme suggested above especially gains very much in plausibility. We saw that primitive labour is quite unfit for economic purposes. Consequently the problem of the evolution of economic labour is a part of the general problem of the evolution of economics. Now the last analysis has shown that to obtain a complete picture of the evolution of labour, the different elements of educated labour in low stages of culture may not be omitted. The various coercive ideas and other powerful mental incentives, which compel man to work, and to work (in the sense above explained) economically in savage societies when no rational 226

The economic aspects of the intichiuma ceremonies motives or outward coercion are able to move him, - these must be made an object of study. Besides the elements pointed out in this connection by Ferrero and Blicher, the present paper attempts to show that magical and religious ideas must be taken under consideration as such coercive mental forces to account for the training of man in economic activity. The instance elaborated above demonstrates that there is some basis for this evolutionary scheme; the demonstration that the tie between magic or religion and economic activity is essential and psychologically necessary gives to this scheme its deeper justification. When the precepts of reason would not have been followed, the commands of magic or religion were; and as far as the principle dictated by these ideas was not completely fallacious, it may be quite well assumed that labour thus organized has been developed into rational economic labour. It is possible now to formulate more exactly and cautiously the scheme suggested above of the economic evolution of the intichiuma ceremonies. If it were assumed in the first place, with Prof. Frazer, that the intichiuma ceremonies were once spread wherever Totemism existed; and secondly, that they all possessed in larger or smaller measures the economic character of the examples discussed above - a legitimate assumption, since these characteristics are intimately connected with the very essence of the intichiuma; thirdly, if it were further assumed that not all of the economic elements of educational value (organization of collective labour; development of forethought, system, and observation of seasons; and making provision for the future) passed into abeyance with the progress of evolution - and it would be irrational to make a contrary assumption - then it must be assumed that the intichiuma ceremonies and other similar rites were of great importance in the development of economics. In this general formulation of the evolutionary importance of the intichiuma ceremonies - the only correct application of the evolutionary standpoint to the present problem - the evolutionary scheme suggested above must appear more than plausible. And, speaking more generally, it may be safely asserted that without the study of religious and magic influences any evolutionary scheme of economics must be incomplete.

227

7 THE RELATIONSHIP OF PRIMITIVE BELIEFS TO THE FORMS OF SOCIAL ORGANIZATION*

THE THEORY OF TOTEMISM

Generally recognized methods and established basic concepts continue to be lacking in the ethnology and sociology of primitive peoples. Therefore in undertaking special research on some definite subject in the field of ethnology one must try to deepen the method and establish general principles. The present attempt to outline a new theory of totemism also lays claim to certain improvements in the method of defining ethnological phenomena as well as in the manner of presenting the genesis of these phenomena; it also purports to verify certain general principles in the concrete example of totemism. Totemism is an extremely fashionable subject in present day ethnology. Limiting ourselves to the best known and most significant works, we can mention the great treatise of Frazer and the most recent works of Durkheim and Wundt. 1 Totemism is also a concept widely used by related and auxiliary sciences, such as archaeology and ancient history.2 However, despite the fact that so much has been written about this subject, neither the concept of totemism nor the viewpoint of its origin has been definitively established so far. The authors agree neither on what totemism is nor how it arose. Thus, we are faced with two major problems: defining the essence of totemism and providing its genesis. The former problem is neither superfluous nor easily solvable, as is evident from the fact that the term, 'totemism' designates a set of heterogeneous and loosely connected phenomena. This concept encompasses beliefs about man's union and close relationship with an animal, plant, or inanimate object, all of which we designate with the •Original in Polish. 'Stosunek wierzen pierwotnych do form organizacji spolecznej. Teorya totemizmu'. Sprawozdania z Czynnosci i Vosiedzeh Akademii Umiej§tnosci w Krakowie, 18 (8) (1913): 9-18. 229

Malinowski's early writings name 'totem'. Such a totem is regarded in various ways by savage peoples, depending on the tribe, as a symbol, guardian, patron, ancestor, brother, or divinity. A given group of people takes its name from it, and worships it either by acts of a positive cult or by abstaining from destroying, killing, using, or eating its totem. Totemic art also enters into the composition of totemism: dances and plastic images of the totem. Besides this totemism possesses a social aspect. A group of people named after the same totem, and rendering it more or less distinct worship, is an extremely important social unit; in ethnology it usually bears the name clan. The clan is an integral part of the tribe, which, it may be said, appears among totemic peoples not as a set of individuals but rather as a set of clans. The clan serves a number of social, legal, religious, family, political, and even economic functions. But we encounter just a small portion of these properties in each individual case. We know of no instance where these totemic features appear in a complete set. And so the question arises, what of this should be considered the essence of totemism, everything or only a part - and if so, which part?3 At any rate totemism cannot be regarded as something always cast from the same mould, a creation of society and culture which can be univocally defined by reference to one or several phenomena. We recognize its existence from manifold symptoms, but what matters is to demonstrate that these symptoms represent some immanent reality, that beyond them we can find an organic entity, something uniform and real: only then would we be entitled to subsume such a real sociological formation under one concept. The difficulty of such a treatment of totemism is increased by the fact that it is an extremely widespread phenomenon; with the exception of Europe there are no continents where it is not found. We encounter it in its most distinct forms in Australia, Melanesia, North America, and Africa. Less important and distinct is the totemism of Polynesia, of the Dravidians of Southern India, and some of the autochthonous tribes of Sumatra. The other problem, the genesis of totemism, does not need a justification. Nevertheless, a few words of explanation must be given because the concept of a genesis is not used univocally in ethnology. In the present case, for example, some theories exist about totemism's development from certain beliefs, others about its origin on the basis of an error and misunderstanding, 4 still 230

Relationship of primitive beliefs to social organization others deducing totemism from certain peculiarities and conditions of primitive life or primitive psychology, and again others regarding totemism as a purposefully introduced arrangement of affairs, etc. Thus it is evident that each of these enumerated types of theories differs basically in its methodological treatment of the genesis of totemism. None of the present theories seems sufficient to me. Each of them claims to explain everything with one stroke of the pen, but actually explains, at most, some aspects and neglects grasping the whole. This is the result of the fact that all of the authors up until now have ignored the first of the problems indicated here, that of defining the essence of totemism. Totemism, which has so many aspects, and spans so many phenomena, cannot be deduced uniformly from a single source. Its origin must be sought in the workings of complex and varied conditions. First of all, the heterogeneous phenomena which make up totemism can be grasped from two basic points of view: the psychological and the sociological; we can distinguish the religious and the social aspects of totemism. Understanding the interrelation of these two aspects is a precondition for understanding the essence of totemism and for properly tackling the problem of its genesis. I will now proceed to the first basic problem, to a short definition of what totemism is, to a presentation of its most important psychological and sociological properties. In order to emphasize the essential features and to omit secondary features in this presentation, I have tried to gather as many data as possible and to present them numerically. I. DEFINITION OF THE ESSENCE OF TOTEMISM

A. The religious aspect of totemism In the totemic beliefs we have a reflection of man's relationship to the objects of his natural environment. Therefore, we should first ask the question: of what sort are these objects and what is the substance of the totemic beliefs? Totems are objects of nature: primarily animals, plants, and inanimate objects. But we must accurately define the relationship in which these objects are found. Comparing 62 totemic tribes with each other, I have obtained the following result: in 59 of them the number of 231

Malinowski's early writings animals prevails over the number of plants, while in 56 the number of animal totems is greater than the number of plant and inanimate-object totems combined. Adding together all of the totems contained in my list, I reach the number 1645, of which 1166 are animal totems, 312 plant, and 161 other objects. From this listing it is apparent that the preponderance of animals over the other totems is considerable. There are four times as many animal totems as vegetable totems, and two and a half times as many animal totems as vegetable and inanimate totems combined. Plant totems predominate over inanimate totems. However, their preponderance is less evenly distributed among all the tribes; we find this preponderance among 22 tribes (11 of which have no inanimate totems at all). In 20 tribes inanimate objects prevail over plant totems (in 12 of these there are no plant totems at all). In three tribes plants prevail over animals and even over the sum of the remaining totems. Entering further into the details of the above presentation, we may generally state that among the totems we most frequently encounter edible animals and plants, then strong and dangerous predators, and then animals evoking an instinctive reaction of fear and abhorrence, such as snakes, reptiles, and amphibians. However, there is no doubt that edible totems are the most important. As far as we can judge from the insufficient ethnographic data, we may say that originally all species that were important as food were totems, and vice versa that all important totems were edible animals. The next basic question which arises in reference to totemic beliefs is: what is man's attitude toward the totems? How does he determine his relationship to them and manifest his worship? Without doubt, the most important feature of totemism is the prohibition against killing and consuming the totem. There is almost no tribe where we would not encounter it. Out of fortyseven tribes presented in a table, only three lack this taboo. We must also mention that we know nothing about a totemic taboo among the tribes of North America. However, Frazer supposes, on the basis of very convincing arguments, that this is not the result of an actual lack, but only of neglect on the part of ethnographers who observed them. I have therefore left these tribes out of my listing. Comparing the totemic taboo with other features of totemism, we reach the conclusion that it is its most consistent 232

Relationship of primitive beliefs to social organization feature. This particularly applies to the prohibition against eating the totem. Prohibitions against killing it are a bit more rare. In general few acts of a positive totemic cult exist. Best known are the magic intichiuma ceremonies of the savages of Central Australia. Aside from magic rites these ceremonies also contain a kind of ritual banquet, which here, just as in the case of the taboo, is the most important theme of the religious acts and norms of totemism. Other ceremonies of the totemic cult have as their essence, above all, the assimilation of man with his totem. The great significance of eating, both in the positive and the negative cult, strongly confirms the assertion that the edible species originally played the principal role in totemism. This assertion assumes a considerably deeper significance against the background of our consideration on the genesis of totemism. If we wish to determine most generally what the relationship to the totem consists in, we must enumerate all of the facts pertaining to this relationship. To these belong the naming of the clans according to the totems, the ceremonies mentioned above identifying man with his totem, ideas about man's descent from the totem, and the motives of the taboo, expressing feelings of a close relationship between man and his totem. These and similar facts indicate that savage people imagine that a very close relationship exists between a man and his totem. At the same time, however, it is apparent that this relationship cannot be expressed in any short and terse formula. The totem is neither merely the name of a group, a symbol, ancestor, nor brother; it combines all of these traits simultaneously, and any theory which, ignoring other peculiarities, emphasizes any one of them too exclusively, or regards it as primordial, must give false results. In concluding these observations about the religious aspect of totemism, I would like to note that it differs basically from other beliefs in one general feature. Totemic beliefs embrace a number of objects which are completely equivalent to and independent of one another; the totems are neither arranged in any sort of hierarchy, nor do they, in and of themselves, form parts of some sort of organic whole. In order to understand the homogeneity of the totemic system, we must take the social aspect of this system into consideration along with the beliefs.

233

Malinowski's early writings B. The social aspect of totemism 1. The morphology of the clan. The totemic clan is a unit which, generally speaking, does not possess any internal structure. All clan members are equal: there is no authority, no organization, and no internal structure in the clan. Only in some cases does there exist something like a chief or leader of the totemic group (for example, in Central Australia, in some Bantu tribes, and in North America). The clan is always a subdivision of a broader group, the tribe. The number of clans into which the tribe is split varies, and generally speaking is not very large, varying within the range of two digit numbers. Only in exceptional cases is this number much larger, exceeding 100, or much smaller, reduced among some peoples of Melanesia to two. The clan is sometimes a territorial unit, that is, members of one clan inhabit a given territory in a compact mass and possess it for themselves to the exclusion of all others. This is the case, for example, among the tribes of Central Australia, in Polynesia, in the Bekwana tribe, and in some other instances. But generally the clan is not a local unit. The members of the clan are scattered over the whole tribal territory, and clan unity is manifested externally only in a functional, and not in a morphological, sense. In this typical form the clans are joined into a tribal unity in an extremely strong and clear manner, as it were visibly. 2. Functions of the clan. The close integration of the clans into a tribal unity has a deeper basis in the clan's functions. As is already apparent from what we have said earlier about the structure of the clan and about its relationship to the tribe, the clan's political functions are quite insignificant. The clan is a part of the tribe, and not an independent unit. On the other hand, its legal functions are important. Of these, the vendetta should be mentioned, the clan's obligation to take revenge and the mutual responsibility toward each member. The clan is a family unit, and its members imagine that they jointly descend from one ancestor, usually their totem, and consider themselves to be related. Of the family functions, the most important is exogamy, the clan members' obligation to marry and to seek sexual relationships outside of the clan. Of the religious functions the most important are the magic intichiuma ceremonies of the natives of Central Australia, 234

Relationship of primitive beliefs to social organization performed by clan members in order to propagate their totem, as well as similar ceremonies in the Torres Straits Islands, among the Baganda tribe, and a few others. Therefore, the object of these ceremonies is the material welfare of the entire tribe. From this point of view they can also be regarded as the clan's economic functions. The taboo also possesses an economic character as a kind of division of consumption. All of these functions have a common characteristic feature: they all fulfil the role of integrating, and welding the clans into a tribal whole. As a matter of fact, all of these are external functions regulating the relationships of clans with one another and the relationship of the clan to the tribe, rather than regulating relationships within the clan. And in this way they join the clans into a tribal unity. Gathering together these remarks about the clan's social nature, we may say that from a sociological point of view the general character of totemism consists in the fact that it is a system of beliefs and ideas differentiating the tribe into a number of smaller groups and simultaneously integrating these groups into one entity.

II. THE GENESIS OF TOTEMISM

Totemic beliefs express the defined attitude of man toward his environment. This attitude is not a result of totemism, for, as is easily demonstrable, it is comprised of a much broader range of facts than totemism. This attitude is something basic, a direct result of man's psychological nature and of the action of external conditions; therefore it must be explained on the basis of these elements. Totemic beliefs belong to the history of magic or religious ideas. Therefore one should first briefly consider the essence of these ideas. It may be said that the acts of a religious cult, magical practices, prejudices and superstitions - in fact everything connected with mystic or religious treatment of reality - cluster around the subjects most vital for man, where man's most elementary conditions for existence and his most important objectives and aspirations come into play. Within the range of these subjects, inasmuch as the subjugation of the fundamentals 235

Malinowski's early writings of life escapes man, and inasmuch as he feels that the course of things exceeds the limits of his own strength - that he cannot manage the theoretical and practical control of reality by himself - he appeals to higher powers. This may be formulated from the psychological point of view by saying that religious ideas arise everywhere that man acts and thinks under the influence of strong emotional factors. Therefore, to the religious subjects of primitive religions belong, on the one hand, the crises of life, such as reaching sexual maturity, marriage, birth, and death, and on the other hand the basic normal functions of life: the sexual act and the process of nourishment. Another extremely important source of religious subjects are the activities resulting from the self-preservation instinct, the defence against dangers, real or imagined, from which the savage is everywhere threatened. Primitive man lives under conditions fundamentally different from those under which we find ourselves. The struggle for existence in its simplest form - acquiring food directly from nature, and protecting himself from dangers also arising directly from nature — is what absorbs primitive man's attention and energy and what determines his relationship to his environment. There are a number of magico-religious ideas, rituals, practices, customs, and norms with a supernatural sanction, which are centred on the act of eating. This act is considered dangerous by very many peoples, an activity at which man is threatened by various supernatural dangers. Food scraps play a very important role in black magic practices. Food objects are covered by innumerable rules designating what is prescribed and what prohibited for a person according to his sex, age, physiological condition, state of health, membership in a social group of position in it. Such prohibitions, a food taboo, are one of the most important elements both of the religious cult and of the religious basis for social differentiation. Food also plays an important role in religion as a holy banquet, which is the basic ritual in many religions, and as a sacrifice, a universal form for religious cults closely linked with the holy banquet. Among the superstitions pertaining to food, we may yet mention the belief in fertilization through food and the belief in the direct transference of the qualities of the object eaten into the man who consumes it. All of these facts demonstrate that eating is regarded by savage and barbarous people as a magic, holy act with supernatural properties. This 236

Relationship of primitive beliefs to social organization characteristic of eating is also transferred to its objects. Various kinds of food possess their own peculiar characteristics and magic and religious properties. In almost all of the enumerated facts, the species of animal or plant is strictly defined which is to be the object of the sacrifice, the holy banquet, the magic rite, taboo, superstition about fertilization, or transference of properties. The religious ideas pertain not to the food already prepared but to the species to be eaten, and always create a special relationship between man and the given species. Animals and plants play a more or less equivalent role as food objects. Both of these classes of objects also acquire a religious significance as a result of the economic activities which are aimed at obtaining them. These economic activities, which occupy an extremely important place in man's emotional life, and which take first place among his interests, also become the object of numerous rituals and religious ideas. It is sufficient to mention the rituals of hunting peoples which are performed before the hunt, the agrarian rites of primitive farmers, and the religious cults associated with pastoralism and dairy farming. Animals become the subject of strong emotional experiences, and as a consequence of this the subject of religious ideas, as the source of innumerable dangers, as the object of a life and death struggle, as that part of nature with which primitive man is most directly in touch in his struggle for existence. Examining the religious ideas and superstitions of primitive peoples, it can be easily ascertained that all strong, predatory, swift, and sly animals become crystallizing foci for these very ideas. Singling out animals from the natural environment is considerably enhanced by the fact that they are basically similar to man, that they move, look, and think, that they are that part of nature which is most suited for anthropomorphization and personification. In all of these cases the religious ideas do not pertain to animals in general nor to some designated individual animals, but to the animal species. This is easy to understand. Both in man's eating and his direct contact with the animal, whether in his economic activities or in his struggle with it, it is the peculiarities of the species that are definitive. Both from a practical and an emotional point of view, the lion is something fundamentally different from the hyena or the sheep, and that is why other ideas and other forms of rites refer to the species. But within the species 237

Malinowski's early writings there are no further fundamental differences. And this is also why the species is considered to be something homogeneous that can be treated as an entity. This general relationship of man to his natural environment can thus be denned mainly by the fact that animals and plants appear in the foreground, and that is why it can be denned as zoolatry. Inanimate objects, being less connected with the elementary vital needs of man, do not play as great a role in very low religions. As we have seen, one of the most important sources of zoolatry is man's relationship to animals and plants as objects of food. Hence, eating regulations play a major role in these forms of religion, and among these regulations prohibitions against eating and killing a given species appear in the foreground. If we would like to define man's relationship to animals and plants, we could only accurately and generally say that it is very close. This relationship cannot be more particularly defined, but we must rather state that it vacillates over a very broad range, from conceiving of the given species as a god, to treating the species as a blood relative of man. Comparing the result obtained here with what has been said before about the basic features of totemism, it is immediately evident that a strict parallelism exists. We have found the following to be the basic qualities of totemism: a preponderance of plants and animals over inanimate objects and of animals over plants; the predominant role of the food taboo and the eating rituals, as well as the great significance of edible species; thirdly the broad range over which man's relationship to his totem varies, the main subjects of which are the conception of the totem as a deity and as a being which is a blood relative to man. Moreover, the species and never the individual is the totem. And so it is evident that a close parallelism exists between totemism and zoolatry, that totemism is a special form of man's attitude toward his environment, an attitude we had previously derived from the human psyche and from the conditions under which primitive man lives. And so, in presenting the most general and comprehensive genesis of this attitude, we have also given a satisfactory genesis of totemism. But so far we have only a genetic explanation of the general attitude of which totemism is a special case. We have not yet considered how that which constitutes totemism's difference has arisen, that which distinguishes totemism from zoolatry in 238

Relationship of primitive beliefs to social organization general. As we have mentioned before, this basic feature, which appears in a parallel manner in both the religious and the social aspect of totemism, is the differentiation of totemic religion into a number of separate cults, a number of what may be called fractional religions of the individual totems grounded in the corresponding clans. How did this parallel differentiation arise? It is impossible to give an historical answer to this question. That is, it does not seem possible to me to outline the concrete factors which have caused this differentiation and to present a history of their workings. The ethnological material and general speculation cannot give an answer to the question so denned. We must be satisfied with demonstrating the connection between the basic forms of the beliefs and the forms of social organization on which these beliefs are grounded. In other words, with a certain form of beliefs given, imposed on man by the external conditions, and, on the other hand, finding that in the majority of cases these beliefs are connected to a definite type of social structure, we must prove that a close connection exists between the beliefs and that structure. It follows from what has been said above about zoolatry that the animals and plants which play the most important role as food, as man's natural enemies, or his allies in his struggle for existence had to become the subjects of the beliefs. Thus, this system of conditions had to bring about a multiplicity of cult objects restricted by the fact that only sufficiently important animals and plants became cult objects. But this system of conditions did not tend toward a unification, a reduction of the cult objects into a unity nor toward their arrangement into some sort of a hierarchy. And so we have a religion with a number of equivalent cult objects. In the natural course of things this religion had to develop toward splitting into a number of cults. However, each cult requires a social basis. On the other hand, the fundamental form of the totemic cult is the taboo (obviously the reference here is to an expanded notion of the cult, which would include the 'negative cult'). Moreover, in the simplest and most important acts of the cult, the intichiuma ceremonies, we deal with an act of ritual eating which strictly corresponds to and is dependent on the taboo. The taboo, which pertains globally to all totems, could not have been imposed on the whole tribe because this would deprive the people of the possibility of living. From this it is evident that the basic cult-forms imply the differenti239

Malinowski's early writings ation of the cult into individual groups. Evidently, this explanation does not offer us anything more than the indication that certain features of the beliefs cannot be reconciled with a different social basis than the one actually found in totemism. However, because it is precisely these features of the beliefs that are basic and because, according to our viewpoint on the genesis of totemism, they are necessarily imposed by the conditions from which totemism arises, the necessity for the social forms of totemism is thus contained in our outline of its genesis. From a methodological point of view, this interpretation is simply an indication of a kind of natural selection and of the fact that a given type of belief is connected to the most suitable form of organization, in which its various basic qualities could find their fullest expression. This manner of interpretation finds confirmation in the fact that ideas very similar to totemic ones, other forms of zoolatrous beliefs, are connected to other forms of social organization. 'Individual totems' are widespread, and we know of 'sexual' and 'tribal' totems (the term totem is obviously taken in an expanded sense). In other words, the cult of propitious animals and plants is at times not connected with the clan, that is, it is not one of the tribe's coordinate parts, or a part of the tribe itself or of an individual, a group of all men and all women, a given age group, or a secret society. All of these social units differ basically from the clan both morphologically and in their general character. They do not represent a multitude of equal groups coordinated into a homogeneous tribal entity. In the cases where we have totems connected to individuals, where we have the institution of guardian spirits, totemism cannot develop at all. Since religion in general, and especially primitive religion, is basically a social matter, an individual cult would be a complete impossibility under primitive conditions. And so we see that the linking of totems with the clan system is not accidental: it is not an isolated fact, but one link in the chain of facts. We explain the wide spread of clan totemism and its importance as the natural adaptation of the most suitable social forms to a given type of beliefs. Again it is evident that in this interpretation it is necessary to grasp what there is in common in a given group of phenomena, to emphasize general and basic things and not accidental and isolated ones. I would still like to emphasize that in the present study I have 240

Relationship of primitive beliefs to social organization consciously and deliberately limited the problem of genesis considerably, and have refrained from tackling a number of historical problems referring to the concrete origin and development of totemism. I have avoided the question: which is the more ancient, zoolatry or the clan structure; which of these two factors is the more durable and remains alive after the other has disappeared? Our present investigations are considerably more general than the questions just mentioned and constitute a necessary introduction to them. III. SUMMARY AND CONCLUSIONS

The definition of totemism, the concept of its essence, and understanding what its difference consists in is only possible through a parallel treatment of its religious and sociological aspects. It is a characteristic feature of totemic beliefs that they pertain to a number of equivalent objects, which are not in any hierarchy nor do they possess any internal unity. The unity of the totemic system, the coordination of the separate beliefs into a whole, lies only in its social aspect. Only by concentrating on the sociological qualities of totemism can its coherence be understood. Since the cult of the particular totems is associated with the clan, and the clans are integrated into a whole through their functions, totemism appears to be something homogeneous, an organic whole. In this formulation the necessity for a simultaneous investigation of primitive beliefs and social differentiation is apparent. Only by juxtaposing these two aspects can we comprehend the essence of primitive religions, as we have demonstrated in the example of totemism. We could define its essence by examining both aspects simultaneously, studying one in the light of the other. Our method of defining totemism eliminates those difficulties noted at the beginning: it is clearly evident that totemism cannot be denned either by the content of the beliefs or by enumerating its particular features and social functions. Only the general character of those functions which weld the individual clans into a higher tribal entity and the general character of the beliefs pertaining to cult objects of equal rank, taken together, enable us to define totemism. Besides this most general feature, we have been able, by means 241

Malinowski's early writings of a precise comparative listing, to define a number of important basic traits which more closely characterize totemism, first of all the nature of the totems and the totemic cult, as well as man's relationship to the totem. These features have served us as a point of departure for a genetic treatment of totemism. In providing the genesis of totemism, we were able to intensify and add a new confirmation to our view of its essence. In construing its genesis we proceeded from the general view that religious ideas, practices and norms crystallize around objects which possess a basic vital value for man and which thus stand in the focus of his emotional life. In primitive conditions of life, such objects are primarily animals and plants as sources of food, then animals as the object of a dangerous struggle and as the desired goal of their hunting and fishing efforts, and plants as the concern and hope of the primitive farmer. The cult, which arose within this framework, pertains to a limited number of objects. Since the cult must be based on a social unit, and further, as we have seen, since the totemic cult intrinsically requires the exclusive participation of the given group, thus by means of natural selection, so to speak, zoolatrous beliefs combined with the clan's structure produce the most durable type of religion for a living environment: totemism. This interpretation tries to follow basic sociological and psychological laws in the origin and development of totemism. Above all, the interdependence of its religious and social aspects. It does not explain everything; it does not provide a concrete genesis or a history of totemism; it only tries to point out the fact that in the rise of such a basic form of religion as totemism, basic activities must have also operated; and it seeks to define this influence in the most general and comprehensive way. In this it differs from other, bolder attempts at interpreting totemism. But the course of science seems to indicate that it will be more necessary to give up these all too hopeful theories in favour of scientific undertakings which take on the task of achieving maximum results with a minimum of effort and risk. The passing of ethnology to a phase where speculation must reckon more and more with the toilsome collecting and comparing of facts and be satisfied with partial and modest, yet certain, results, seems to be a necessary result of the development of this science.

242

8 A FUNDAMENTAL PROBLEM OF RELIGIOUS SOCIOLOGY 1 *

There are certain questions of principle in every branch of science which cannot be passed over in any comprehensive and thorough treatment of the subject, and upon the answer of which the further course of inquiry essentially depends. Such questions are, as a rule, the most difficult to settle, because only an overwhelming amount of evidence gathered with the very problem in view allows of an unequivocal answer. In anthropology the mutual co-operation of the theorist and of the field-worker is essential in all such cases. A question of this type presents itself at the outset in anthropological investigations of religion. Is there a sharp and deep cleavage between religious and profane matters among primitive peoples? Or, in other words: Is there pronounced dualism in the social and mental life of the savage, or, on the contrary, do the religious and non-religious ideas and activities pass and shade into each other in a continuous manner? This question is of utmost importance for the general theory of religion. Professor Durkheim postulates the existence of a perfectly sharp and deep cleavage between the two domains of the sacre and profane, and his entire theoretical construction stands and falls with this assumption.2 Again, Dr Marett is of the opinion that, generally speaking, 'the savage is very far from having any fairly definite system of ideas of a magico-religious kind, with a somewhat specialised department of conduct corresponding thereto'. 3 This view, although expressed in a somewhat different connection, undoubtedly implies the negation of Durkheim's dogmatic standpoint. Again, Mr Crawley thinks, that for the savage everything has got a religious dimension,4 a view which also excludes *For details of original publication, see Malinowski's first note. 243

Malinowski's early writings the existence of any irreducible dualism of magico-religious on the one hand and secular on the other. These examples show that the above question, fundamental as it is, is still unsettled and controversial. What answer does it receive from the ethnographic evidence? The great Australian ethnographers, Spencer and Gillen, whose researches have contributed to the advancement of our knowledge of primitive religion more than any other investigations, answer the question in the affirmative. The life of an aborigine of Central Australia is sharply divided into two periods: the one comprising his everyday life, and the other his magico-religious activities.5 It is evident throughout Messrs Spencer and Gillen's two volumes that the properly religious and magical practices and beliefs are strictly esoteric; that they are fenced off from everyday life by a wall of taboos, rules and observances. Yet reading another standard work of modern anthropology, Dr and Mrs Seligman's monograph on the Veddas, one gets the impression that among these natives there does not exist anything like a radical bipartition of things and ideas into religious and profane. Again, the views held by another recent investigator, Dr Thurnwald, with regard to the magic of the natives of the Bismarck Archipelago and of the Solomon Islands, imply beyond doubt the absence of a clear-cut division between magico-religious and secular ideas,6 the two classes merging into and blending with each other. One conclusion seems to be inevitable: namely, that pending new evidence it would be rash to dogmatize on the subject under consideration. I venture to say more. The above-mentioned statements (which could easily be multiplied) point not merely to different personal equations, which, however, would be possible in such an enormously complex and general problem, but they point to real differences in the matter discussed. The consolidation of the religious life can be different amongst various peoples, depending as it does upon various social conditions. Thus religion seems to be best developed and possessing the highest relative social importance among the Central Australians, to a smaller degree among the Papuans studied by Thurnwald, still less among the Veddas. Where it is strongest the bipartition postulated by Durkheim seems to be most prominent. Wherever it is less pronounced the two domains shade into each other and begin to fuse. Thus probably the division into religious and profane is not an 244

A fundamental problem of religious sociology essential and fundamental feature of religion, suitable to be considered as its very distinctive characteristic. It is an accidental feature, dependent chiefly upon the social part played by religion and connected possibly with some other factors to determine the influence of which it is, however, necessary to have more ample evidence, gathered with the problem in view.

245

9 THE SOCIOLOGY OF THE FAMILY*

I. INVESTIGATIONS INTO THE EVOLUTION OF THE FAMILY

The question of the present status of the investigations on the sociology of the family presents some difficulties. The sociological research on the family is as yet not very uniform. Its study has been influenced by very heterogeneous interests, it has been executed according to diverse methods, and the points of departure of the investigations have had very little in common. It is no wonder that the results do not combine into a uniform picture but present a rather variegated mixture. Here we have, above all, the well-known and fertile field of investigations into the general ontogenesis of the family. Here the methods and the evidence are already very different. Added to this are numerous studies partially determined by practical viewpoints of the position of the family in society: of its ethical, pedagogical and general value. Here the discrepancies are much stronger; some of these studies pursue a purely scientific goal and employ purely scientific methods; others have nothing to do with science. Filled with religious, political, Biblical or communistic ideals, the authors seek to secure for themselves the support of science, in ways which deviate from science. Moreover, mention should be made of writers who choose in their studies of the family a scientific but not purely sociological point of departure. Belonging here, first of all, are studies emanating from jurisprudence, then studies of legal history, moral history and general cultural history. We are interested in such works only in so far as they shed light on general sociological questions like the ontogenesis and development of the family, but not in their purely technical and specific details. The lack of •Originally published in German. 'Soziologie der Familie'. In Die Geisteswissenschaften, 1 (1913-14): 883-6; 33: 911-14; 1080-2. 247

Malinowski's early writings uniformity and the contradiction of the results also have other causes. The problem of the family has had the misfortune to have been almost exclusively treated as a by-product of other investigations, which themselves were actually considered subsidiary and partial areas of the family problem. Thus the main attention of ethnologists and sociologists is devoted to marriage, consanguinity systems, sexual questions, etc., even though all of these are only elements and parts of the general family question and can only be adequately treated in connection with this general problem. Thereby often organically coherent elements are torn apart, certain aspects excessively emphasized, others not sufficiently considered. In this way marriage, above all, was treated as the principal problem of ethnology. Here Westermarck's statement is entirely valid: Carriage is rooted in the family, rather than the family in marriage',1 a statement that could be extended to all partial areas of the family problem and should be considered the basic research principle. However, the worst confusion in the study of the problem of the family originates in the deep disagreement which exists between the adherents of the 'original promiscuity' and 'group marriage' with its 'matriarchy' on the one hand, and the representatives of the view that 'monogamy and patriarchy are primitive'. There exists here a radical contrast between the researchers, and a distinctly polemical, often irritated tone is noticeable which contributes very little to the clarity, objectivity and mutually fair appreciation. All this makes a coherent presentation of the present state of research in this area somewhat more difficult than in many others, if not completely impossible. Because, despite the still existing obstinate intransigence of some representatives of both trends, there are also indications that it is possible to appreciate with open eyes and some good will the value and the significance of both research lines and that both, with certain limitations, can help achieve a uniform result and overall picture. The deepening of the argumentation and the sharpening of the conceptualization must lead to a coherence of a common work tendency and to a common goal from wherever one might depart. In this paper, we wish first of all to briefly present the most important approaches and works on the ontogenesis of the human family and in a subsequent account to treat the remaining studies 248

Sociology of the family in all brevity. A later paper will then contain a constructive criticism of these works.2 These ontogenic investigations doubtless form the most significant achievement in the field of the family problem on the whole. The material for the constructions is drawn from ethnology, history and archaeology. In these works the above mentioned opposition between the advocates of the primordiality of monogamous marriage on the one hand and of group marriage on the other prevails. Essentially, however, three typical standpoints can be distinguished: the hypothesis of a primordially patriarchal family; the hypothesis of a primitive community of women [Frauengemeinschaft], or also group marriage, both in connection with matriarchy [Mutterrecht]; and the view that the human family, dependent on various conditions, has assumed very diverse forms, but that the basic elements as a rule were the same: a more or less durable, but a regulated and socially recognized union of man and wife for a rudimentary marriage, with the children belonging to both parents. [Henry] Sumner Maine can be regarded as a representative of the first standpoint; the second is connected with the names of Bachofen, Morgan and McLennan; the third one was most completely substantiated by Westermarck. A. The patriarchal theory This was and is the customary and traditional concept of scientific thinking. We read in the Bible that the whole chosen people stems from the one, although most probably polygamous, family of Abraham. Nay, all of mankind is supposed to stem from a single, first parental couple which is even said to have been purely monogamous. And moreover, these first families were clearly 'patriarchal'; the father was the only head. The natural, native concept with which the primordial conditions are approached, postulates therefore, at the beginning of the social development, a monogamous patriarchal family [Vaterfamilie] which appears as the germ cell of society, from which all other social forms grow. One obtains a similar picture, although in a less naive conception, from the oldest Greek, Roman and Indian historical works, 249

Malinowski's early writings chronicles and historical traditions, from myths and legends, irrespective of the symbolic interpretations of the latter and some details. Aristotle deduces the community from the family in the Ancient sense, and the state from the community. The power of the state is a derivative of the paternal authority. In modern times numerous historians, sociologists and legal historians have accepted this theory. It was very clearly and decidedly represented by H. Sumner Maine. In his book on primordial law (Ancient Law) ,3 he reaches the conclusion that comparative jurisprudence presses us to the acceptance of a primordial patriarchy. The primitive family essentially resembles the Roman family as it is inferred in its primordial form from the oldest documents and traditions; with the despotic authority of the father which he exercises lifelong over his sons, their wives and children, his unmarried daughters as well as over his male and female slaves. The kinship principle is pure agnation, since only kinship on the father's side is recognized; all descendants of the living pater familias are related including adopted children, his wife and the wives of his sons and grandsons, his clients and slaves. All who leave the family - sons co-opted from alien families, daughters married to strangers - are not considered related. Vatria potestas is the basic principle of kinship. This patriarchal form of the family is assumed by Maine with the Aryans and Semites, and he claims that all human groups were originally organized in this way. This family was the cell from which the whole society gradually developed, from the family arose the gens, from the gens the tribus, from the tribus the polis, the state. This concept claims universal validity and therein lies its greatest weakness because it is certainly not correct in this universality. Maine draws his evidence from the legal documents of Aryan peoples and partly of the Semites. In this limited field his works are joined by the studies of N. D. Fustel de Coulanges (La cite antique),4 W. E. Hearn (The Aryan Household),5 G. Grote (History of Greece) ,6 all of which consider patriarchy the original form of the Aryan family. In contrast to the above view the authors of the works mentioned below represent the hypothesis of Aryan matriarchy (Bachofen, McLennan, Dargun, et al.). The studies of Leist 250

Sociology of the family (Graeco-italische Rechtsgeschichte,7 Alt-arisches Jus Gentium),8 Schrader, (Sprachvergleichung und Urgeschichte),9 Delbriick, (Die indogermanischen Verwandtschaftsnamen) ,10 and Bernhoft11 appear to represent the opinion that none of the two views corresponds to the true factual situation from which we could draw conclusions with the greatest probability on the basis of the existing data. None of the two symmetrical and schematic forms, neither a distinct patriarchy, nor an absolute matriarchy, can be taken without reservation as a point of departure. The linguistic and historico-legal data certainly give us some explanations but there are much less simple conditions and levels of development which are to be found in the results of Leist and Schrader. B. The hypotheses of the original community of wives: matriarchy and group marriage The rather naive and uncritical assumption of a universal patriarchy was contradicted by a series of results which were formulated completely simultaneously and independently by three researchers who, working according to quite different methods and basing themselves on quite different facts, reached similar results. The studies of Bachofen, McLennan and Morgan develop views which were in strict opposition to the patriarchal theory. Instead of monogamy a complete incontinence of marriage relations should be assumed; instead of the father's authority the matriarchy and maternal succession; instead of the allpervading persistency of the patriarchal family on all evolutionary levels, the family is supposed to have a complex evolutionary schema in which the individual levels would be completely different from each other. Bachofen's 'Matriarchy' was chronologically the first book in which these ideas were expressed. (Das Mutterrecht: Eine Untersuchung uber die Gynaekokratie der alten Welt nach ihrer religiosen und rechtlichen Natur;12 moreover, Die Sage von Tanaquil,11 and Antiquarische Briefe.)14 Through the study of ancient mythology, of the fragmentary information of ancient historians and geographers on barbarian peoples, and, in limited measure, also through ethnological facts, he was led to the conclusion that once upon a time a family system existed in which only consanguinity in the female line was considered. In this 251

Malinowski's early writings system a male with his descendants was considered related to his siblings and step-siblings of the same mother, and with the children of his sisters, as well as with his mother, the maternal grandmother, etc. This situation was, according to Bachofen, connected with a distinct social dominance of women, with gynaecocracy [(Gynaekokratie]. Bachofen found a close connection between consanguinity in the maternal line and the then prevailing marital relations. Marriage in our sense and the duty of chastity did not exist then, rather complete promiscuity [Hetdrismus] prevailed. This was also the reason why originally there could be no question of a patriarchy, and why even later after mankind had left the level of complete promiscuity, maternal succession and matriarchy continued to exist. Only later when promiscuity had disappeared, mankind emerged from gynaecocracy to pass to paternal consanguinity and patriarchy. Bachofen's work was full of stimulating ideas and carried by an almost prophetic elegance. He is absolutely the creator of the entire conceptual arsenal of the theories of matriarchy and group marriage including all details, and many of his constructions have been brilliantly confirmed by later ethnological investigations. However, his analysis of the social relations appears from the sociological standpoint exceedingly inadequate and superficial, his reasoning is fanciful and lacks method. Therefore, for sociologists, his works have more historical than actual value; although the judgement of Starke,15 who calls the work 'rather the rhapsody of a knowledgeable poet than the creation of a clear and calm scientific spirit', is perhaps too harsh. Later, although independently of Bachofen, the Scottish researcher J. F. McLennan reached almost the same results on matriarchal and primitive sexual conditions on the basis of much more extensive ethnological material (Studies in Ancient History).16 His sociological analyses are remarkable in their acuteness and comprehensiveness. McLennan generated many important problems for the sociology of the family, although his constructions and final conclusions today appear hardly plausible. He also proceeds from a primordial state of promiscuity \Vromiskuitdt]. In all instances where the social conditions corresponding to this stage had grown from a previous stage, kinship was only traced in the female line. In this, McLennan agrees with Bachofen and all other authors of this approach. However, his construction differs from that of Bachofen in many essential 252

Sociology of the family points. McLennan ascribes a very great significance to the killing by exposure of new-born girls, which he postulates as a common practice for the primitive hordes. The direct result was supposed to be an excess of males. The scarcity of women, however, was connected with their superior position which corresponds with Bachofen's gynaecocracy. The excess of males led to the abduction of women from which the important and almost universal custom of exogamy originated. The scarcity of women had one more sociological consequence: polyandry in which McLennan perceives the beginning of marriage and of the family in a stricter sense. Polyandry is supposed to be a general evolutionary phase which gradually led to patriarchy. As already mentioned, the importance of McLennan's research consists in the fact that, equipped with extensive knowledge and by means of thorough analysis, he directed attention to a number of highly important facts and stimulated a series of profound problems with which sociology has been diligently occupied to this very day. Abduction of women, exogamy, totemism and maternal succession clearly play an important role in the social life of primitive peoples. These questions, which were first subjected to a comprehensive discussion by McLennan, still stand in the focus of scientific discussion today. On the other hand some of the causal connections most strongly emphasized by McLennan can hardly be recognized as valid, and some facts are overestimated by him in their significance, e.g., the exposure of female children, polyandry and the excess of males. The abduction of women is as a rule not connected with polyandry, but almost always with polygyny, as is evident a priori. The best known and perhaps the most important of the three champions of original promiscuity, L. H. Morgan, decidedly does not compare with McLennan in the standard of his sociological analysis (Systems of Consanguinity and Affinity of the Human Family;17 Ancient Society).18 His importance lies principally in the fact that he himself undertook direct ethnographic investigations of North American natives, and could draw new ideas from the factual material. On the other hand his association with the natives developed in him a kind of sociological instinct with the help of which he could discover much through his direct contact with the Indians 253

Malinowski's early writings that remains closed to sociologists who derive their material at second hand. Indeed he opened certain classes of facts to knowledge which until then were either unknown or had not yet been observed and discovered, and which are still in the forefront of scientific interest. This is especially true in the case of kinship nomenclature which had already been observed at the beginning of the 18th century by the Jesuit P. Lafitau (Moeurs des sauvages ameriquains, comparees aux moeurs des premiers temps),19 but was first appreciated by Morgan as one of the most important documents for the ontogenesis of the human family. Morgan has also contributed much to the knowledge of the social mechanism of kinship and family life among the North American Indians, above all by his work Houses and House-Life of the American Aborigines.20 Morgan's purely theoretical constructions, on the other hand, are very unsatisfactory; the analysis of the sociological situation which is inherent in the various 'evolutionary phases' postulated by him is rather superficial — indeed is completely wanting. This part of Morgan's contributions certainly deserves the blame of the prominent American sociologist, Howard, concerning the whole approach, when he comments that 'rarely has one seen more striking examples of a hasty generalization than the one occurring in the theoretical parts of these works'.21 Morgan bases his ontogenetic constructions mainly on the kinship nomenclatures. These are supposed to have had a much more tenacious life than the social conditions themselves from which they originated, and from the kinship terms the conditions underlying them could be easily inferred. Then Morgan passes directly to a construction of the successive marriage stages. But this procedure implies two assumptions; first, the assumption that the nomenclature systems of the kinship conditions themselves are reflected, and further that they were a direct result of the then prevailing marriage forms. Both assumptions which Morgan postulates as something self-evident, however, cannot be readily understood by themselves. Kinship is the general term for a very complicated social condition, composed of heterogeneous and variable factors, which looks very different in different societies. Therefore we are led to false conclusions if it is assumed to be something simple and everywhere homogeneous. Further, when Morgan sees kinship as simply corresponding to the marriage form, he implies the further assumption that kinship is everywhere identical to con254

Sociology of the family sanguinity, approximately as we understand the term, a mistake which McLennan had already avoided. Basing himself on these by no means correct postulates, Morgan derives from the existing kinship terms the development of the marriage forms. In addition, Morgan views the earliest phase of human family life as a state of complete sexual licentiousness. It is followed by five successive stages of family and marriage. However only three are 'radical', that is, they resulted in specific systems of kinship terms. The first of these three forms is the consanguinous family in which the brothers and sisters (in the strict sense of the word and collateral) were linked in a group marriage. This family form which once had universal acceptance has, according to Morgan, survived as remnants among the Hawaiian aborigines and corresponds to the so-called Malay system of consanguinity. The second 'radical' form of family is the Punalua family which consisted in a group marriage between a group of sisters and a group of brothers. Morgan believed he was able to find this form among the Polynesians, and especially among the Hawaiians in a developed form which corresponds to the Turanian and Gonawanian system of kinship terminology. The third basic form of the family, according to Morgan, is the monogamous family which led to the two intermediate stages of the syndiasmic and patriarchal families. The highly symmetrical and rationalistic construction of Morgan rests on a very fragile foundation. The assumption that the kinship terms stand in close connection with the forms of marriage was, as pointed out above, completely arbitrary. It also became the subject of vehement controversies and opened the well known discussion which to this very day divides the sociological views about the family into hostile camps. The investigations begun by Bachofen, McLennan and Morgan have been intermittently continued by a number of very important scholars, and in some respects considerably further developed. The pioneer of the English anthropological school, Lord Avebury (Sir John Lubbock), was an adherent of these views. (The Origin of Civilisation and Primitive Condition of Man;22 'On the development of relationships'.23) Closely related to Bachofen's views are those of Giraud Toulon, although this author had previously reached similar conclusions on his own. Also Jul. Lippert is strongly influenced by Bachofen's views about the human family (Die Geschichte der Familie).24 255

Malinowski's early writings Of great importance are the comparative law contributions of Post and Kohler which refer to Morgan's works. With his very comprehensive, although rather non-methodical and uncritical accumulation of ethnological facts, Post has very much expanded the range of comparative jurisprudence in Germany and created, to some extent, a useful basis for later investigations (Die Geschlechtsgenossenschaft der Urzeit und die Entstehung der Ehe;25 and Studien zur Entwicklungsgeschichte des Familienrechts;26 and many other studies in the field of ethnological jurisprudence). However, much more important are the works of Kohler, who not only improved the research method but also achieved lasting merit in the field of the sociology of the family with his systematic elaboration in monographs on the legal systems of numerous primitive races and civilized peoples (Zur Urgeschichte der Ehe: Totemismus, Gruppenehe, Mutterrecht27 in addition to countless monographic studies on law and family law in the same periodical). However, it should be observed that Kohler's studies address the problem of the family from the extreme standpoint taken by Morgan and exhibit a polemical and partisan character. Besides Kohler, who was the editor of the Zeitschrift fur vergleichende Rechtswissenschaft, mention should be made of Bernhoft and Friedrichs ('Uber den Ursprung des Matriarchats'; 'Familienstufen und Eheformen').28 Morgan found diligent followers of his teaching in the eminent ethnographers L. Fison and A. W. Howitt (Kamilaroi and Kurnai) ;29 especially the latter who had the opportunity to make direct observations on the Australian Negroes, brought many valuable facts to light (cf. also Howitt's Native Tribes of S.E. Australia).10 However, the general speculations about the prehistory of the family, as they are presented in their works, demonstrate how dangerous it is when ethnographers who are not trained sociologically set about difficult theoretical problems. Cunow's work on Australia (Die Verwandtschaft-organisationen der Australneger),zl is also written under Morgan's influence. More influenced by McLennan are the works of W. Robertson Smith, who believes to have found matriarchy; among the prehistoric Arabs (Kinship and Marriage in Early Arabia)*2 Similar conclusions are reached by the Dutch ethnologist Wilken (Das Matriarchat bei den alten Arabern).11 McLennan's and Morgan's view is also reflected in Frazer's recently published work about totemism and exogamy (Totemism and Exogamy),34 The same 256

Sociology of the family theme, with some modifications and within moderate limits, also dominates the works of Letourneau (Uevolution du manage et de la famille) ,35 Kowalewski (Modern Customs and Ancient Laws in Russia)16 and Durkheim (see his reviews of some works about the family in Annee Sociologique, vol. 1) ,37 A similar position is also taken by the more popular socialist authors Engels (Der Ursprung der Familie),38 Kautsky (Die Entstehung der Ehe und Familie)*9 and Bebel (Die Frau und der Sozialismus)40 in whom the communist ideal for the future must have influenced their views about the past. Very important are the recent works of practical ethnographers who seem to produce strong proofs in favour of Morgan's theory. In this direction, first of all, the observations about group marriage among some Central Australian tribes studied by the well known Australian ethnographers Spencer and Gillen (The Native Tribes of Central Australia;41 The Northern Tribes of Central Australia)42 are to be emphasized. The work of the outstanding Cambridge ethnologist, Dr Rivers, in his recently published work Kinship and Social Organization43 has also contributed greatly to our knowledge of group marriage in Melanesia. On the basis of a faulty sociological analysis, the above mentioned authors seem to make the mistake of using the concept of 'group marriage' only in relation to sexual behaviour. On the other hand, Rivers, who himself has contributed much of importance in the field of kinship theories (see below), believes that he is able to construct extraordinary family relations in the Melanesian pre-history, but, in the end, these are only conclusions about previous group marriage and not observations of actual facts. The works of Hellwald, Dargun and Hildebrand particularly Uber das Vroblem einer allgemeinen Entwicklungsgeschichte des Rechts und der Sine;44 Recht und Sitte auf den verschiedenen Kulturstufen,45 occupy a special position in the literature, although the authors generally share Morgan's point of view. They form a transition to the works to be discussed below in so far as they are less concerned with the construction of evolutionary stages than they are with a scientific analysis of the phenomena (although tending to be dogmatic) and with the discovery of sociological dependencies and conditions and thus with the establishment of sociological laws and with the development of sociological concepts. Hellwald's book (Die menschliche Familie)46 deserves attention because of its comprehensive des257

Malinowski's early writings cription and thoughtful analysis of the various facts which condition the situation of the family and family life. The works of Dargun (Mutterrecht und Raubehe;47 Mutterrecht und Vaterrecht)48 are above all distinguished by a highly modern approach. In a field where concepts are vague and obscure, where terms are poorly defined and constructions are superficial, where circular arguments and polemics prevail, discussion, such as we find in Dargun's writings, is highly stimulating and is therefore of a significance that can hardly be overrated. Dargun analyzes the concepts of 'power' [Gewalt] and 'kinship' and demonstrates that no constants correspond universally to identical social realities, but that in every case the totality of the jural concepts and social institutions must be taken into consideration in order to ascertain how the kinship relations of a people are constituted. Dargun's criticism of the concepts of kinship, his deep insight into the functional dependence of the kinship relations on jural, moral and economic factors, and on the general structure of the respective society, have, besides their direct value as contributions to the problem in question, also an even more general value as a guide for the future direction of scientific sociology in the proper sense of the word. Dargun's special investigations were concerned with the family law of the primordial Germans with whom he believed he could prove matriarchy with certainty. C. The theory of the constancy of the typical forms and the basic elements of marriage and family The studies of Bachofen, McLennan and Morgan and of their best followers had a pioneering effect and encouraged research on the sociology of marriage and the family. Some results of their work have had a lasting value, such as Morgan's kinship tables, McLennan's correct posing of problems, Kohler's monographs and Dargun's ingenious and thorough analyses. However, many things in their contributions bear the stigma of hasty and daring hypotheses, deficient evidence, of intolerance towards other points of view even in the face of contrary facts; in brief, of a strong sectarian and partisan spirit. The third direction, which is linked with the name of Westermarck, sprang from the tendency to increase the scope of 258

Sociology of the family evidence and the formation of concepts, to broaden the horizons and to take into consideration many facts so far completely ignored. Above all, the previous works were subjected to severe criticism, and their many methodological and fundamental deficiencies exposed. Obviously, the positive contributions of Westermarck's school were much more important to the investigation of the family problem than the negative ones. Involved here was the improvement of the method as well as an extension of the point of view. Thus Westermarck introduced, with brilliant success systematic and biological considerations (The History of Human Marriage).49 Westermarck emphasizes that among higher vertebrates, but above all among the anthropoid apes, conditions are to be found which are very similar to monogamous marriage. The only biological data which we have for a concept of prehistoric conditions speak decidedly in favour of the assumption of a rudimentary monogamy, which has persisted. On the other hand, Westermarck points out that irregular sexual intercourse leads to a pathological condition which strongly impairs fertility. In primitive conditions where the struggle for existence mercilessly decimates the human group, infertility contributes to weakness and final destruction. Natural selection would therefore favour societies with monogamous marriage or at least regulated sexual relations. Above all one must agree with Westermarck that 'the strongest argument against primitive promiscuity can be deduced from the psychological nature of man and other mammals'. Man's jealousy is very strongly developed, and in primitive man, to judge from an analogy with mammals, this is also the case. Here Westermarck also has the authority of Darwin on his side. Although this conclusion may not be compulsory for everyone (see, for example, the very clear and thorough discussion of these questions in Miiller-Lyer's Family,50 where the author comes to completely contrary conclusions), credit for having employed biological viewpoints consistently and comprehensively on the problem of the family is undoubtedly due to Westermarck. He subjects the numerous examples of sexual licence which are to be found among many peoples to a comprehensive investigation and demonstrates that in no event can one speak of a then existing group marriage or promiscuity, nor that 'vestiges' of earlier such 259

Malinowski's early writings conditions can unequivocally be deduced. In addition, he sets up a list of those peoples with whom a great value is attached to the chastity of women and the virginity of girls. The concept of kinship is subjected by this school to a thorough critique by Starke (Die primitive Familie) ,51 who devotes half of his work to a discussion of kinship and matriarchy, and by Westermarck, who discusses the question of kinship mainly in connection with the systems of kinship.52 The most important progress however, lies in the much deeper and more scientific manner in which the problems are approached. Maternal succession and paternal succession, great sexual freedom and strict chastity, marriage by kidnapping and purchase, the pervasive influence of kinship and the absolute predominance of the family - all these elements are no longer regarded as definite developmental stages which must be recognized as generally valid or rejected. These are only different forms which the social interaction and kinship forms can and must assume under certain social conditions. The most important task of sociological research is to analyse accurately family life and the general social structure and to investigate their mutual dependencies and external conditions. Only after having penetrated the nature of the facts and having grasped the biological and sociological dependencies can one dare to present the evolutionary stages in rough outlines. To do this on the basis of poorly defined survivals or a priori considerations, is certainly admissible as a working hypothesis, but must always be regarded as provisional. But above all one must draw one's attention to the functional aspect of the sociological regularity in order to reach a more complete insight into the sociological nature of marriage and kinship. In this sense Westermarck and Starke have already contributed much of significance in their works. This can be seen thus in the above mentioned discussion about sexual promiscuity, a problem that has been exhaustively dealt with by Westermarck. Also with regard to the problem of matriarchy, both Starke and Westermarck have subjected this to a thorough analysis. It is Starke's opinion that it is mainly economic conditions and settlement questions which determine kinship calculations, whether on the mother's or the father's side, in which the influence of kinship would be decisive. His results have been confirmed by the very interesting investigations of Tylor on the same questions ('On a 260

Sociology of the family Method of Investigating the Development of Institutions, Applied to Laws of Marriage and Descent')53 according to which the circumstances of whether, after marriage, the woman moves to the husband's family, or the husband joins the wife's is of decisive significance. From them we learn what a powerful influence the general social conditions, especially economic and local conditions, exert on the organization of the family. The valuable book of Grosse, Die Formen der Familie und die Formen der Wirtschaft,54 is devoted to this question, in which the influence of the economic evolutionary stages of mankind on the constitution of the family is presented. With regard to the methodological and factual treatment of the family problem, Grosse comes close to sharing Westermarck's standpoint. Still another aspect of the problem of kinship relations has been left out of our consideration so far, namely the religio-ceremonial aspect of marriage. Earlier marriage customs and ceremonies have already been considered from Bachofen's and Morgan's standpoint. One employed the method of survivals as the principle of explanation, while the other saw in the marriage customs vestiges of a former kind of marriage by abduction, group marriage, a sexual communism, etc. A general discussion on the psychological content of the religio-ceremonial usages and customs of marriage was, however, given only by E. A. Crawley in his distinguished book, The Mystic Rose: a Study of Primitive Marriage.55 The author begins with a general, highly original and penetrating analysis of human relations in their religio-magical aspect. On this basis he deals with sexual relations, which above all, involves the magical danger that primitive people see in close sexual contact. The various forms of marriage ceremonies are interpreted from this point of view. The recently published book of Westermarck on marriage customs in Morocco (Marriage Ceremonies in Morocco)56 is also an important contribution to the psychological and sociological treatment of marriage customs. Since the book is above all very important from the standpoint of ethnological method, it will be extensively treated in a subsequent review. The great work of Miiller-Lyer, Entwicklungsgeschichte der Menschheitf57 devotes considerable space to what the author calls 'geneonomic' relations, especially those social relations which 261

Malinowski's early writings are closely connected with procreation. So far three volumes (IIIV of the entire work) on geneonomic relations have appeared. The first of these volumes which deals with the 'Forms of marriage, of the family and of relationships' (Munich 1913), is an introduction to geneonomy in which the general concepts are defined and the forms of the various social structures are discussed. Volume V, 'Stages of Life' (Munich 1913), deals mainly with the development of relations between the sexes. The most important volume of the entire work is volume IV, The family' (Munich 1912). This book contains an overall presentation of the geneonomic development. The author divides the entire development into three great epochs, which he calls the kinship, familial and individual epochs. In the first, kinship is the most important structure; human society builds on the principle of common descent and consanguinity. The second epoch begins with fundamental social differentiation in which kinship collapses, and its functions are divided between family and the state. The former assumes most of the geneonomic functions, the latter the political ones. In the third, the individual epoch, at whose beginning we stand, the family once again declines in importance. In its place, a highly differentiated society encroaches on the family and its functions. On the other hand the individual becomes ever more independent of the family. Miiller-Lyer's work is, at all events, the most modern work that we possess on the ontogeny of the family. Some parts of the work, such as, for example, the analysis of the prehistoric hypotheses, and the question of the origin of the family, are written with consummate clarity and mastery of the material. In the questions of prehistory, Muller-Lyer inclines more to Morgan's than to Westermarck's school, which hardly can be seen as an advantage, but his argumentation and his proofs are free of the above mentioned deficiencies of the theoreticians of group marriage. Since the book treats very comprehensive problems in a scanty space, it is naturally impossible for the author to enter into the particulars of the argumentation and to introduce sufficient inductive material which, taken strictly scientifically, would be very desirable and necessary. The book is ontogenetically orientated, and therefore socio-historical viewpoints are given prominence over the purely sociological. As an introduction to the study of the problem of the family, we would place Miiller-Lyer's book beside the work of Howard, as the best that exists in the literature. 262

Sociology of the family

II. INVESTIGATIONS ON THE STRUCTURE AND SOCIAL SIGNIFICANCE OF THE FAMILY

The sociology of the family, works which treat the general problem of the ontogeny of the family were reviewed in part I of this article. Therefore, let us briefly review the investigations which deal with the sociological structure of the family as it appears in our present day society. In contrast to evolutionist theories, which give, so-to-speak, a longitudinal section through the evolution of the human family, the works to be discussed here present crosssections of the current social situation. These works are on the whole denned by practical viewpoints. The family is, in many respects, a basis of the social order, it is 'the cell of the social body*. Therefore everyone who approaches sociology as a reformer or practical politician at least touches on the problem of the family. The socialist, the eugenicist and the philanthropist all have to take this elementary building stone into consideration and to express their opinion on marriage, divorce, upbringing of children, sexual morality and other component problems of the family, and so it is evident these investigations are practically and socially of the greatest importance. But even considered purely scientifically and theoretically they elucidate many extremely important sociological connections and give an insight into the most elementary motivating forces of the social mechanism. Indeed, they should actually form the preliminary step and condition for a serious study of the ontogenesis of the family because we can penetrate into all particulars of general sociological regularities only in our living society, and we are capable of grasping the sense of many sociological and socio-psychological facts best in our own society. Despite this, the purely scientific works on the sociology of the modern family are relatively rare and at any rate, and in comparison with ontogenic works, negligibly small in number. It is not difficult to explain this anomaly. This is caused, on the one hand, by the fact that in each science the interest starts with a naive and childish curiosity about the unknown, lost, distant and mysterious and only slowly matures and turns its attention to fathoming the nature of the phenomena as they surround us in living fullness in the present. The facts which we see daily before 263

Malinowski's early writings us appear to pre-scientific and early scientific thinking as too trivial and self-evident to be worthy of serious consideration. However, there is still another reason why the ethnological and prehistoric speculations about the family could flourish more than investigations into the nature and significance of the family, which we can investigate and observe in the living organism of our present society in fine detail and without obstacle. Precisely because we are so much closer to those facts, it is much more difficult for us to grasp them impartially and objectively. To see a phenomenon sharply and completely, we must be outside it. Otherwise we cannot see the forest for the trees. It is not easy to distinguish the essential from the secondary and to see how the leading ideas of the day could contribute to the descriptive analysis and explanation of particular facts. Bringing the leading ideas to bear on the general and complete description of facts is the noblest goal of scientific work. Kirchhof s methodological principle, that it is the goal of science 'to describe the facts completely and in the simplest manner' (Mechanik, pt. I) 58 proves right much more for the arts where so much depends on devoting consideration to the proper moment. Indeed, in the arts we lack objective evidence which would raise the discussion above a bare exchange of views into the sphere of irrefutable argumentation. No matter how far we may always remain from attaining the ideal, the greatest efforts should be made in this direction. In the area of the family problem, we can well surmise, or even know, that certain regularities exist, but to formulate them sharply and objectively is extremely difficult. There also exist a large number of works which in a more or less journalistic style, and with a more or less openly avowed moral purpose, portray the family ideal and analyse family relations. As an example, there is the well known and very interesting book of A. Riehl (Die Familie),59 which appeared in several editions and exerted considerable influence. There is an excess of similar works in all civilized languages in which the different national conditions are given exhaustive consideration. The reader will find a comprehensive bibliography in the work of G. E. Howard.60 Obviously, these works cannot be discussed here. They constitute raw material which should be of great value for a sociologist dealing with the family problem, because they are an archive of documents about public opinion on this question, but as scientific contributions, they are of little value. 264

Sociology of the family Perhaps the first major attempt to provide a purely objective and scientific presentation of the types of family in modern society, has been made by J. Le Play and his school.61 Although he was also led by practical interests, and although his general standpoint and many of his doctrines are not purely scientifically orientated, almost everything that he contributed to the sociology of the family in extensive observations, methods of objective description and means of scientific analysis of conditions, is of significant scientific value. Le Play perceived the decisive role played by the family in the social structure, especially the average family in the lower classes, and he strove for adequate means to convey a picture of these types of families. Already by virtue of its purposeful struggle for objective methods of presentation, Le Play's contribution is important, but the quality of his method and the results attained are of first class scientific importance. The monographs produced by Le Play and his school, Ouvriers europeens62 and Ouvriers des deux mondes,6Z are materials of high value. It is a pity that the work of Le Play's school was conducted in a practical reformist spirit and received too little attention from the pure scientific side. Besides, while the monographic method is perhaps the best, although painful and tedious, there also exist much quicker and more comprehensive ways to convey information about the sociology of the family. Above all, much could be ascertained by means of more extensive statistics. Although statistical data cannot give us an insight into intimate family relations or detailed characteristics of family life, in some fundamental ways they furnish us with the only truly significant picture of the facts. We are already in possession of some very valuable statistical data. Perhaps the best are those data produced by the government of the United States. This government seems to be especially interested in sociological investigations. Moreover, North America offers an extraordinarily favourable experimental field for theoreticians. The fifty-three states and territories with radically different legal systems and consequently different social problems, offer an excellent field of observation and experimentation to the sociologist. The lack of religious, political and legal unity, and the partial lack of national unity, and their separation from historical tradition and routine, makes it possible to raise many questions about the practice of legislation, which in the Old World were either answered automatically or appeared unsuitable for 265

Malinowski's early writings discussion. But also in all other states there now exists much statistical material on a number of questions which are in close connection with family life and which at present capture the attention of sociologists and politicians concerned with problems of reform. There are, first of all, the following problems: reform of marriage law, especially of divorce, the position of children in the family, including the problem of the educational role of the family, the position of the women in the family (closely tied with the question of the economic, legal and political emancipation of women), the problem of scientific eugenics and the abolition of the sexual abuses (prostitution, sexual crimes and diseases). Some of these questions lead us away from the problems of the family and form a field of special investigations. So it is with the pedagogical problem. Only in so far as it touches upon family life, is it to be mentioned in this connection. (As an example I refer to the recently published work by Todd, The Family.)64 The question of the general position of women in modern society also claims a special field for itself, although it certainly is of great interest for the sociologist of the family. Besides, this question is now much more the subject of violent political and journalistic debates than of scientific analyses. The two kinds of treatment cannot always be reconciled. But things worth mentioning have been brought to light on the part of passionate champions of the one or the other party in this struggle, and socialist writers have contributed specially valuable material to it (for example, A. Bebel, Die Frau und der Sozialismus.65 See also a good discussion of the question and history of the problem in Howard) .66 The problem of the improvement of the race which concerns eugenicists is also related to the family structure. Indeed, the procreation and upbringing of children remains the basic function of the family, in any case in its modern form. The science called by Francis Galton 'eugenics' should teach us how this function could be most advantageously practised. Although the new science has only begun to lay the ground for its investigations, it is clear that the influence of eugenic thought on customary ideas about the sexual and general morality will have far-reaching and beneficial effects. A copious literature exists on marriage law, and especially on the question of divorce. In America these questions have given rise to a brisk sociological discussion. At official instigation and with government support, Commissioner C. D. Wright has col266

Sociology of the family lected valuable and extensive data which he has published in a basic work, Marriage and Divorce in the United States, 18671886.67 Also valuable are the publications of the National Divorce League (Reports of the NDL)68 and their successor, the National League for the Protection of the Family.69 In other countries, much has been published about marriage law and divorce problems. (For a bibliography of the material see Howard's work where there will also be found a review of these questions, particularly in America.) The serious problem of divorce is perhaps the most evident and most striking symptom of a fundamental upheaval in the nature of the family in general. This upheaval is manifested in the rougher as well as in the finer characteristics of modern family life. (For a rather good, perhaps somewhat exaggerated, presentation of the modern crisis of the family see Miiller-Lyer.)70 The bases of the family structure seem to be under attack with the jural, moral and actual aspects of the marriage bond having been considerably loosened. The relationship between parents and children is completely different from what it was half a century ago. The state interferes more and more with the educational functions of the parents and controls the moral and hygienic guidance of the children. Also the dependence of women on their husbands is strongly modified. With the growing economic independence of women, their ability to gain their livelihood by their own work and on their own responsibility has increased and thus the strongest bond which formerly tied them to their husbands has been loosened. On the other hand, the domestic activity of women has lost much of its importance and indispensability, while the cheapness and ease with which the family can provide itself with the necessary products has decreased the functions of the housewife even more. The form of family life is also changing. Husband and wife must often spend the whole day away from the home and therefore the children are more and more frequently entrusted to various educational institutions or kindergartens. The single home, which was the external symbol of the independence of the individual family, has almost completely vanished from the cities of the European continent, and also in England and the English speaking overseas states where the renting of apartments in extensive apartment houses is increasingly more common. All this causes the family to undergo a profound transformation 267

Malinowski's early writings in its basic characteristics. How far this will go, what will prove viable and valuable from the old, and what will have to perish, is at present rather difficult to predict. These conditions are clearly reflected in the sociological publications of our day.

268

NOTES

Introduction: Malinowski's reading, writing, 1904-1914 1. Not included in this volume are his two published works, The Family Among the Australian Aborigines (1913) and Wierzenia pierwotne i formy ustroju spolecznego (1915). The latter book was finished by Malinowski before he left for Australia and was published in Poland during his absence. It has not been translated into English. Malinowski's many book reviews are also not included. 2. If Malinowski's diaries before 1914 were available it is likely that we could learn more about Nietzsche's influence upon the young Malinowski. 3. Mach's formulation of important principles of relativity, especially in the field of fluid dynamics is memorialized in the 'Mach number' which expresses a ratio of the speed of a body to that of sound relative to the medium through which they both travel. Mach's recognition of the relativity of motion and measurement was one of the principal inspirations for Albert Einstein who later elaborated it in the famous 'general theory of relativity'. Indeed, both Einstein and Malinowski were influenced by Mach's important statement of general principles of observation and perception that made clear that the most elementary measurements of physical phenomena were relative to the context and to the observer. 4. Mach bands are the visual-perceptual phenomenon of large differences in perceived intensity of light from two or more separated light sources. This is not related to any physical phenomenon, but rather to the behaviour of the networks of neurons in the eye. 5. In other words, Mach sought the grounds for believing with some degree of certainty that the propositions of science were true, while he rejected the transcendent metaphysics of an absolute Truth. 6. I.C. Jarvie calls any relativism 'weak' which admits to the existence of some universal truths while insisting that there are also some truths whose 'truth' depends on the pragmatic or local conditions of their contexts. 7. In a kind of extended epitaph that he called 'an appreciation', 269

Notes to pages 8-17 Malinowski wrote that 'Frazer is a representative of an epoch of Anthropology that ends with his death . . . The material which he has given us will remain for long the standby of the ethnologist . . . [but] Frazer's theoretical position [is] not acceptable' (Malinowski 1944c). 8. 'Kasper' is sometimes spelled 'Kacper'; both spellings are correct. 9. These diaries are in the possession of Malinowski's youngest daughter, Helena Wayne. They remain unpublished. 10. Karol Estreicher (1971:7), son of Professor Stanislaw Estreicher who was in close contact with young Malinowski, wrote: The literary imagination of the boys was stimulated by and mixed with eroticism of the Young Poland type. . . Dreams of success, power and fame were mixed with dreaming about love, which was viewed as a sensual lunacy' (1971:8). 11. The characterization of this period of his life as his 'Nietsche [sic] period' was made years later in one of his unpublished diaries according to Helena Wayne, his daughter. Personal communication, Helena Wayne, 1991. 12. 622 Downfalls was written in 1909-11, and revised in 1920 but not published until 1972. The 'downfalls' in the title refer to 'moral' failures, or falls from grace. 13. At any rate Stas had referred to Bronio as 'Lord Douglas' in the early years of their friendship when at school. This was an allusion to the real Lord Douglas, friend of Oscar Wilde (S. Witkiewicz 1969:39 letter of 31 July 1900; Martinek 1981:7-8, 38). Or is 'Nevermore' meant specifically as 'never more' - never again? In the novel one of Bungo's biggest downfalls is when he indulges in a homosexual act with the duke (Witkiewicz 1978:149-52). Anna Micinska (1978:37), editor of 622 Downfalls ofBungo, confirms that this happened in real life between Stas and Bronio but remained 'an isolated psychological experiment'. 14. B. Malinowski papers, Yale University BMYU, Box 32. 15. Malinowski planned to make the translation but, perhaps for reasons of pressure of other work, or perhaps because the book, like the review in the journal Lud, contained severe criticism of Frazer, he did not think it wise to do so. 16. Found by Peter Skalnik in 1980 (see above, Preface); BMYU 27/237. 17. Clifford Geertz writes: 'To be a convincing "I-witness", one must, so it seems, first become a convincing " I " ' (Geertz 1988:73). 18. The term 'social anthropology' was first introduced by James Frazer in 1908, when he became for only one year Professor of Social Anthropology at the University of Liverpool. Malinowski apparently adopted the name from the name given to Frazer's Liverpool chair. However, it should be noted that Radcliffe-Brown (then A. R. 270

Notes to pages 18-28

19.

20.

21.

22. 23.

Brown) was next to use the name as when he was appointed to the chair of social anthropology at the University of Cape Town, established in 1921. Malinowski's professorship in social anthropology was created only in 1927 at the London School of Economics after he had served as Lecturer in social anthropology from 1921 to 1924, and as Reader from 1924 to 1927 within the Department of Ethnology (Schapera 1989). It is also consistent with William James' 'pragmatism'. This link was originally pointed out by Edmund Leach (1957:121) who surmised that these ideas must have come from James. The knowledge of his dissertation on Mach shows clearly that they came directly from Mach (Paluch 1981b, Flis 1988, Gellner 1987:54). Nevertheless, William James did visit Mach in 1880 (Lowie 1947:65-8), and probably had an influence on many other German-trained American anthropologists such as Franz Boas and Robert Lowie (Lowie 1947; Manicas 1987:213,227-31). Malinowski wrote: 'When I went out to New Guinea, I was already acquainted with the universally influential aetiological explanations of myth. This theory has, as we have seen, the fatal implication that we have to collect stories and regard them as self-contained documents of primitive science. I had to learn the lesson of functional co-relation between myth as ritual in the field' ('Myth as a dramatic development of dogma', 1962b, p. 255). The 'aetiological theory' refers to Andrew Lang's idea of myth as a sort of 'explanation', a science manque. See also Malinowski 1926a: 144-5 for another elaboration of this rejection. In fact, it was Georg Hegel, in particular, who sought to justify the German nation-state as the ultimate embodiment of reason. Schopenhauer, on the other hand, did not agree: this was described as Schopenhauer's 'pessimism' (that the state was not necessarily the embodiment of reason, and that progress was not guaranteed) against Hegel's 'optimism'. Schopenhauer bitterly opposed Hegel, and Nietzsche was caught between them, at least throughout his period of infatuation with Richard Wagner until his vehement rejection of Wagner. The classicist, E. R. Dodds, in fact found Malinowski's work illuminating in his own effort to solve 'the problem of the Greeks'. (See Dodds 1951:45,59,103). Mach's principle was different from that of 'Occam's Razor', that is, that the most parsimonious or concise explanation is most likely to be true, for Mach believed that the 'economy' of science was an actual physiological economy of energy in the human neural apparatus. Mach's 'economy' is empirical-biological, while 'Occam's' is rhetorical. 271

Notes to pages 29-49 24. Both William James and John Dewey drew on Mach. This probably explains the similarity between Dewey's and Malinowski's theoretical positions. Edmund Leach (1957:121) believed, erroneously, that Malinowski 'found this body of theory in the Pragmatism of William James'. Dewey also remarked on the similarity himself (1929:169), citing Malinowski extensively and including several long excerpts in an addenda to his Paul Carus Lectures of 1925 (published in 1929). Although there is no evidence that Malinowski had read either James or Dewey at this time, he cited Dewey's 1925 work (where Dewey had cited Malinowski) in 'An ethnographic theory of language' (1935:11,61). 25. 'On transformation and adaptation in scientific thought' (Mach 1898). In this lecture Mach notes that 'already we see [Darwin's] ideas rooting in every branch of human thought', and notes that 'even in physical sciences we hear the watchwords: heredity, adaptation, selection. We speak of the struggle for existence among the heavenly bodies and of the struggle for existence in the world of molecules'. 26. This linkage is made more or less explicit near the end of the second volume of Coral Gardens and Their Magic (1935:11,235-9). 27. The phrase 'theory creates facts' comes from the Diary (Malinowski 1967:114), but the same point is expressed in his 1911 review of Frazer's Totemism and Exogamy (p. 127, in this book), in Argonauts (1922:84), in Coral Gardens and Their Magic (1935:317) and again in 1944 in the posthumous publication A Scientific Theory of Culture (1944a: 12) in which he says 'to observe means to select, to classify, to isolate on the basis of theory'. 28. David Strauss' Life of Jesus Critically Examined (1835), was translated into English by George Eliot (1846), at the suggestion of George Lewes. Nietzsche wrote a passionate criticism of David Strauss' later work, The Old Faith and the New, entitled 'David Strauss, the Confessor and the Writer' (Nietzsche 1983). 29. Francis Galton's work on comparative techniques and Franz Boas' essay on the comparative method in ethnology are forerunners in this. 30. 'Zero point' is not Malinowski's phrase. Later, in fact, he attributed the phrase to Lucy Mair, and while conceding that there might be such a zero point in history, it was not accessible to historical or anthropological knowledge (Malinowski 1945:27). 31. Malinowski, review of Frazer's Totemism and Exogamy, p. 166. 32. Nietzsche's words also point to other themes that Malinowski explored elsewhere, for instance punishment in Crime and Custom in Savage Society (1926b), and 'The problem of meaning in primitive language' (1923). More research is needed to define the nature and extent of the Nietzschean influence. 272

Notes to pages 50-88 33. 34. 35. 36. 37. 38. 39. 40. 41. 42. 43. 44. 45. 46. 47. 48.

49. 50. 51. 52.

Malinowski, Tribal male associations', p. 203. Ibid., p. 206. Malinowski, 'Observations on Nietzsche', p. 70. Malinowski, Tribal male associations', p. 207. Malinowski, 'Observations on Nietzsche', p. 70. Malinowski, Tribal male associations', p. 207. The Economic Aspect. . .', p. 219. Ibid., p. 220. Ibid., p. 226. 'A fundamental question of religious sociology', pp. 244. The relation of primitive beliefs to the forms of social organization', p. 229. Ibid., p. 229. Ibid., p. 231. Ibid., p. 242. Ibid., p. 234. Immanuel Kant's phrase; the nature and existence of the categorical imperative was a central problem for philosophical and anthropological thought since the beginning of the nineteenth century. Briefly, the 'categorical imperative' is the fundamental moral imperative which is based on 'analytic' or conceptual reason alone, and which does not depend for its justification on experience. In Kant's ethics, it represented the philosophical justification for all morality; in anthropology, it can be construed as the logic which enjoins moral behaviour in a society (Kant 1879; Scruton 1982:67-71). Malinowski, 'Primitive beliefs', p. 235. Ibid., p. 237. Ibid., p. 240. Ibid., p. 241.

1 Observations on Eriedrich Nietzsche's The Birth of Tragedy 1. [F. Nietzsche, Die Geburt der Tragodie (The Birth of Tragedy) (1872). This was the first book Nietzsche published. References here are to the English translation by Walter Kaufmann in Basic Writings of Nietzsche (New York: The Modern Library, 1968).] 2. [The Birth of Tragedy, p. 75.] 3. [Ibid., p. 41.] 4. [Page references in parenthesis are Malinowski's own; references in square brackets are to Kaufmann's translation (1968).] 5. [Nietzsche speaks of the 'titanic powers of nature', and equates this with 'terror and the horror of existence' (p. 42).] 6. [On the Expression of the Emotions in Man and Animals (London, 1872; reprinted University of Chicago Press, 1965).] 273

Notes to pages 89-90 2 On the principle of the economy of thought [The original in Polish is entitled, 'O zasadzie ekonomii myslenia', PhD dissertation, Jagiellonian University. Jagiellonian University Archives, sygn. X 1237.] 1. [jenseits: literally 'the other side,' or 'beyond'. Nietzsche used the word in the title of his second work Jenseits von Gut und Bose (Beyond Good and Evil), but more generally it refers to Nietzsche's rejection of a transcendent Reality or Idea, which would serve to guarantee conventional values and power relations. By referring to Nietzsche's 'abhorrence of the beyond [jenseitsY, Malinowski means his vehement rejection of the metaphysics of Transcendentalism and Cartesian Dualism in European philosophy. This position is what Nietzsche called 'nihilism': 'The destruction of the moral interpretation of the world, which has no sanctions any more after it has attempted to flee into some beyond [jenseits], ends in nihilism. "All is senseless" . . . What does nihilism mean? That the highest values disvalue themselves. The goal is lacking; the answer is lacking to our "Why?"' (Wille zur Macht, paragraphs 1-2, quoted in Walter Kaufmann, Nietzsche, p. 100).] 2. [See Malinowski's definition and discussion of 'metaphysics' in his essay on Nietzsche, and his assertion there that metaphysics results from a universal 'emotional' (that is, 'non empirical' or not directly related to sense impressions) need to 'bridge the gulf between empirical knowledge and 'human experience'. The latter term refers to language (especially myth), concepts, dreams, trance or trancelike psychological states, music and art, and seems to be opposed, in Malinowski's thinking, to 'sensual experience' or 'sense impressions'.] 3. [Malinowski's note 1:] In the study Die Geschichte und die Wurzel Satzes von der Erhaltung der Arbeit (Prague, 1872) [2nd edition, Leipzig, 1909. This work is also available in English as History and Root of the Principle of the Conservation of Energy (Chicago: Open Court, 1911.)] 4. [Richard Heinrich Ludwig Avenarius (1843-1896) Vhilosophie als Denken der Welt gemdss dem Vrinzip des kleinsten Kraftmasses: Vrolegomena zu einer Kritik der reinen Erfahrung (Philosophy as Thought about the World in Accordance with the Principle of the Least Amount of Energy: Prolegomena to a Critique of Pure Experience) (Leipzig: Fuses's Verlag (R. Reisland), 1876).] 5. [Gustav Robert Kirchhof, see note 34.] 6. [Richard Avenarius, Kritik der reinen Erfahrung (Critique of Pure Experience), 2 vols. (1888-1890). The influence of Avenarius' bestknown work, in which he argues against metaphysical conceptions of the duality of 'inner' and 'outer' experience, is also evident in 274

Notes to pages 90-95 Malinowski's critique of Nietzsche's Apollonian/Dionysian dichotomy.] 7. [Malinowski's note 2:] Petzodt states this clearly in the work cited below. [Petzoldt, Joseph, Vierteljahrschrift fur wissenschaftliche Vhilosophie (1890b), and Maxima-minima und Oekonomie (Altenburg 1890a; Flis 1988:108-9).] 8. [Cornelius (1897).] 9. [Maurycy Straszewski, with Stefan Pawlicki and Wladyslaw Heinrich, was one of three professors of Philosophy at Jagiellonian University. Although he taught Malinowski, the dissertation was written under the supervision of Pawlicki (see Paluch 1981b:278).] 10. [Malinowski's note 3:] Two works printed in 1890: Vierteljahrschrift fur wissenschaftliche Vhilosophie and the longer and more important Maxima-minima und Oekonomie. [Joseph Petzoldt, Maximaminima und Oekonomie (Altenburg 1890a) and Einfuhrung in die Vhilosophie der reinen Erfahrung, 2 vols. (Leipzig: B. J. Teubner, 1900-4).] 11. [Johan Friedrich Herbart (1776-1841). Malinowski refers here to Herbart's theory of apperception which became the basis for an important theory of human learning, and consequently for an influential pedagogical method as well. Herbart argued that learning consisted of the building-up of associations between ideas and experience which formed a complex matrix of 'associations' called the 'apperception mass'.] 12. [Malinowski's note 4:] A broader and more fundamental presentation of this law can be found in Petzoldt's Einfuhrung in die Vhilosophie der reinen Erfahrung. [Introduction to the Vhilosophy of VureExperience, 2 vols. (Leipzig: B. J. Teubner, 1900-4).] 13. [Malinowski's note 5:] The majority of contemporary philosophers lean towards the acceptance of the first, more exact thesis. 14. [Malinowski's note 6:] Petzoldt emphasizes the application of this law to psychology in the work cited above. 15. [Malinowski's note 7:] This agrees with the older point of view that in science we must explain everything in term of causality, insofar as functions may be substituted for causality. 16. [Malinowski's note 8:] This corresponds to the conception of time as the fictitious variable expressing for us the mutual dependence of the changes occurring in nature. 17. [Malinowski's note 9:] Naturally, since above we have renounced its inclusion as a general formula applying to mental phenomena. 18. [Malinowski's note 10:] For there is no place here for independent variables, since, after all, in real historical time we cannot consider any variable to be independent in the mathematical sense. 19. [This recalls Malinowski's definition of metaphysics as the attempt 275

Notes to pages 95-103

20. 21.

22.

23. 24.

25. 26.

27. 28.

29.

to bridge the distance 'between these two basically different worlds' in his 'Observations on Nietzsche's The Birth of Tragedy'.] [Philosophy as Thought about the World, cited above, note 4.] [Malinowski's note 11:] [. . .] namely in the first part, 'Einleitung in die Psychologie und Sprachwissenschaft' [Introduction to psychology and linguistics]. See Heymann [Chaim] Steinthal, Abriss der Sprachwissenschaft (Outline of Linguistics) (Berlin: F. Dummlers, 1881).] [Malinowski's note 12:] J[ohann] F[riedrich] Herbart, Psychologie als Wissenschaft [Psychology as a Science], 1824, [1825?] Konigsberg. [It appears in English translation in Collected Works, ed. G. Hartenstein, 13 vols. (Hamburg, 1883-93); also in Collected Works, ed. K. Kehrbach and O. Fleugel, 19 vols. (Leipzig, 1887-1912; reprinted in 1963).] [The term 'apperceiving mass' is J. F. Herbart's. It refers to his concept of the matrix of 'associations', and the hierarchical mechanism by which they are sorted into conscious and unconscious ideas.] [Malinowski's note 13:] Darwin considers purposefulness to be a direction of the struggle for survival, assuring the preservation of the individual and the species. Such a definition of purposefulness is thus useless for any sort of psychological research. [In this passage, quoted in German, the term zweckmdssig has been translated as 'purposeful'; other possible translations include 'expedient', 'usefulness' or 'suitableness'. It is not entirely clear what Malinowski intended, nor precisely how he understood this passage.] [Malinowski's note 14:] In the above cited work by Steinthal, p. 111. [Steinthal, Abriss der Sprachwissenschaft (1871), p. 111.] [Malinowski's note 15:] Steinthal, op. cit. p. 171. [Translation: 'Every getting-to-know, just as every recognition, is apperception. . . An apperception is both the real, first-time creation of a notion or of a concept, or the gaining of an idea, and every repetition, every memory of it. Our entire theoretical life moves in apperceptions.'] [Malinowski's note 16:] Herbart gives a general definition of his mechanics of ideas in the above cited work [Psychologie als Wissenschaft, p. 145, paragraphs 36-40.] [Translation: By means of such an increase in content, which the idea to be grasped receives from the general concept - without an increase of energy spent - comprehension expresses preponderantly the theoretical behaviour of the soul: it is, so to speak, the theoretical apperception par excellence.] [Gustav Theodor Fechner (1801-1887) was one of the founders of experimental psychology and psychophysics. His text, Elemente der Psychophysik (2 vols., 1860; transl., Elements of Psychophysics) was a major influence on mid-century German psychology, and has had a 276

Notes to pages 104-106

30.

31.

32.

33.

34.

35.

lasting influence on psychology generally. On Zeller, see note 7, p. 284 in Paluch 1981b, in which Malinowski is quoted as saying in a letter to Pawlicki, 'I am looking over Zeller as well'.] [Leonhard Euler (1707-1783), developed many of the most important mathematical techniques and notations in analytic geometry, algebra and calculus that made possible the mathematicization of physics. William Rowan Hamilton (1805-1865), was an Irish mathematician who developed what is known as the Hamiltonian function, a description of the rate of change over time of Newtonian dynamic systems in terms of the sum of kinetic and potential energy they contain, which shows that physical systems tend toward either maximum or minimum states. Pierre-Louis Moreau de Maupertuis (1698—1759), a French mathematician and astronomer, introduced Newton's theory of gravitation in Europe, and formulated a 'principle of least action' in which physical systems were said to be governed by a principle of economy.] [Friedrich Albert Lange (1828-1875), Geschichte des Materialismus und Kritik seiner Bedeutung in der Gegenwart (History of Materialism and Critique of its Present Meaning) (1866; reprinted Lepizig: Kroner, 1907). English translation, History of Materialism (1923). Lange was an important Socialist philosopher in the Neo-Kantian tradition.] [Emil Heinrich Du Bois-Reymond (1818-1896), discovered the electro-chemical process by which nerves conduct the impulses of sensation, and through which muscles contract. His intellectual collaboration with other German physiologists such as Johannes Muller and Hermann von Helmholtz was important in establishing the physiological basis for cognition and other mental functions.] [Translation: 'Adaptation of thoughts to existence and to each other . . .' Hermann Giinther Grassmann (1809-1877), with W. R. Hamilton and George Boole, was one of the founders of modern algebra and calculus.] [Translation: '. . . t o describe the movements of nature completely and in the simplest way . . .' Gustav Robert Kirchhof (1824-1887) developed mathematical techniques that permitted the calculation of currents in three-dimensional electrical networks (Kirchhof's Law), and with Robert Bunsen, developed the theory of spectral analysis to account for the characteristic frequencies of light absorbed or emitted by elements.] [Ernst Mach (1838-1916), Die Mechanik in ihrer Entwicklung historisch-kritisch dargestellt (Historical-Critical Approach to the Development of Mechanics) (Leipzig, 1883), published in English as The Science of Mechanics (Chicago: Open Court, 1893); and Die 277

Notes to pages 106-110

36.

37.

38.

39.

40. 41. 42. 43. 44.

Principien der Wdrmelehre (Principles of Theory of Heat) (Leipzig: J. A. Barth, 1896).] [Ernst Mach, 'Die okonomische Natur der physikalischen Forschung', lecture presented to the anniversary meeting of the Imperial Academy of Sciences at Vienna, May 23, 1882. Originally published in Vopuldr-wissenschaftliche Vorlesungen (Leipzig, 1896); published in English as The Economical Nature of Physical Inquiry', Popular Scientific Lectures, trans. Thomas J. McCormack (Chicago: Open Court, 1898).] [Malinowski's note 17 specifies Mach's work, 'Die okonomische Natur der physikalischen Forschung'. The translation here is from McCormack's translation of 'The economical nature of physical inquiry', in Popular Scientific Lectures, p. 190. Mach's concept of 'primitive man' is explicitly based on Edward B. Tylor's Primitive Culture (1871) which Mach cites.] [Malinowski's note 18:] E. Mach, Principien der Wdrmelehre. [(Leipzig: J. A. Barth, 1896); precisely the same notion is expressed in 'The economical nature of physical inquiry', in Popular Scientific Lectures, p. 193.] [Malinowski's quote is apparently intended as a summary. Mach wrote 'When we look over a province of facts for the first time, it appears to us diversified, irregular, confused, full of contradictions. . . When we have reached a point where we can discover everywhere the same facts, we no longer feel lost in this province; we comprehend it without effort; it is explained for us' (The economical nature of physical enquiry', p. 174) [Malinowski's note 19 refers to Principien der Wdrmelehre, the chapter entitled 'Die Okonomie der Wissenschaft' (The economy of science).] [Translation: . . . the ideas, especially those in the natural sciences, are subject to change and adaptation in the same way as Darwin assumed for organisms.] [Translation: Thoughts are expressions of organic life.] [Translation: We see scientific ideas change form, spread to wider regions, fight with competing ideas, and be victorious over less effective ideas.] [Malinowski's note 20:] Pearson, Grammar of Science (1900), p. 102. [Karl Pearson (1857-1936), The Grammar of Science (London: Black, 1900). Pearson, an English statistician, developed the statistical methods essential to modern population biology and statistical social sciences, for example the chi-square test of statistical significance which expresses the likelihood that differences are due to chance alone, and the Pearsonian coefficient of correlation which measures

278

Notes to pages 111-129 the degree to which separate sets of numbers change relative to one another.] 45. [Malinowski's note 21:] In his work, Pearson grants the possibility of Transfusions' of the egos of others, and thus, such an assumption costs him little. 46. [Malinowski's note 22:] This refers to the quotation at the beginning of the work by M. Straszewski, What is Philosophy? [1903]. 47. [Richard Avenarius, Vhilosophie als Denken der Welt gemdss dem Vrinzip des kleinsten Kraftmasses: Prolegomena zu einer Kritik der reinen Erfahrung (1876), cited above.] J Religion and magic: The Golden Bough 1. [That is, Frazer's two principles of magic] 2. [The last three sentences, from 'Is a miracle . . .' to '. . . absurd.' are in English in the original manuscript.] 4 Totemism and Exogamy 1. This article arose as an expansion of an original encyclopaedia article whose purpose was defining the term totemism. 2. Numbers in parentheses refer to the pages of the treatise about which we are writing. 3. Baldwin Spencer and F. J. Gillen: The Native Tribes of Central Australia (London: Macmillan and Co. Limited, 1899). By the same authors, The Northern Tribes of Central Australia (London: Macmillan and Co. Limited; New York: The Macmillan Company, 1904). 4. Carl Strehlow: Die Aranda und Loritja-Stdmme in Zentral Australien (Frankfurt-am-Main: J. BaerandCo., 1907-20). 5. In general the basic flaw of Professor Frazer's works is his complete arbitrariness. He regards as trustworthy the works of Spencer and Gillen, the works of Howitt and those authors whom these men recognize, and all the works contrary to these he passes over in silence. Among these are the works of Strehlow, L. Schultze, R. H. Matthews, and Mrs Parker. 6. Compare with Spencer and Gillen, Native Tribes, pp. 381ff. 7. Any interpretation of primitive thought is immensely difficult. Our concepts and terms are basically incommensurate with the psyches of primitive peoples, and even though we cannot assert that we are in entirely no position at all to apprehend and understand them, this is possible only through the literal renditions of their stories,

279

Notes to pages 129-130

8. 9. 10.

11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18.

through illustrating an immense number of examples (as Strehlow does), and through comparing their beliefs and social institutions. Such a summarization of the sort to which I am here forced always exposes a writer to ambiguity, and so the reader who desires to grasp the essence of the primitive Australian's thought must become acquainted with the source works of Spencer and Gillen. Here I will present this thought only in broad outline. Spencer and Gillen, Native Tribes, p. 389. Strehlow, I, pp. 3 and 4. The method of grasping the psychology of primitive peoples often encountered among ethnographers leaves much to be desired. They treat the primitive mind as if it were completely logical and obstinately attempt to extract concrete and clearly formulated theories from it. Whereas primitive man does not put his ideas to the test of laws of logic. The theory of the psychology of primitive man is developed in an excellent manner in the recently published, engaging work of Lucien Levy-Bruhl, Les fonctions mentales dans les societes inferieures (Paris, F. Alcan, 1910) [How Natives Think (London: Allen and Unwin, 1926)]. Spencer and Gillen have filled no less than two whole volumes with these legends and their influence on Australian sociology. Strehlow has also devoted two parts of his work to them. Spencer and Gillen, Native Tribes, chapters X-XI and pp. 119ff. Ibid. p. 392. Ibid. pp. 392^1. Spencer and Gillen, Native Tribes, p. 208, and Northern Tribes, p. 321. Spencer and Gillen, Native Tribes, pp. 123-4; Strehlow, II, p. 52. Spencer and Gillen, Native Tribes, pp. 123-6; Strehlow, I, p. 5, II, p. 53. This discovery and its announcement to the world by Spencer and Gillen has unfurled an entire special literature. Professor Frazer considers this lack of awareness among the Australians to be the 'essence' and the 'origin' of totemism. He as well as a number of scholars assert that at one time all of primitive humanity found themselves in a similar state of unawareness. Compare E. Sydney Hartland: Primitive Vaternity: the Myth of the Supernatural in Relation to the History of the Family in Folklore Society Publications Nos. LXV-LXVIII; A. van Gennep: Mythes et legendes d'Australie; Frhr. von Reitzenstein: Zeitsch[rift] fur Ethnol[ogie] XLI. pp. 644ff. On the other hand, A. Lang: 'Anthrop. Essays presented to E. B. Tylor', asserts that the central Australian ideas are the result of a highly developed animistic philosophy and does not consider them to be primitive. Sharing his opinions are O. W. Schmidt: Zeitschr. f. 280

Notes to pages 131-139 Ethnol. 1908, pp. 866ff and Frhr. von Leonardi (in his preface to the third part of Strehlow's work). 19. On this point Spencer and Gillen assert that each person returns to life a certain time after death; in other words they assert that faith in reincarnation in the broadest sense of the word is found in Australia. Strehlow categorically denies this, but his information is based on a foundation that is quite weak. Strehlow, II, p. 56. 20. Compare Spencer and Gillen, Northern Tribes, pp. 33 and 177. 21. Spencer and Gillen, Native Tribes, pp. 202 and 203; Strehlow, III, PP.

iff.

22. Spencer and Gillen, Native Tribes, p. 202. 23. In everything which touches family organization and kinship among the primitive Australians, Professor Frazer strictly adheres to Morgan's theories, which were adapted to Australian ethnology by Fison and Howitt. Compare with Lorimer Fison and A. W. Howitt, Kamilaroi and Kurnai (1880). 24. The differences in the totemisms of the Dieri and Arunta tribes are probably smaller than they appear in the descriptions we possess. They are rather the result of differences in the method of research. The Arunta tribe was researched by B. Spencer, a professor at the University of Melbourne, while the Dieri tribe was researched by S. Gason, a policeman, and Rev. Siebert, a missionary. 25. Alfred William Howitt, Native Tribes of South East Australia, London: Macmillan and Company, 1904, p. 783. Journal [of the Royal] Anthropological Institute XXIV pp. 124ff. 26. Walter E. Roth, Ethnological Studies Among the North-WestCentral Queensland Aborigines, Brisbane, Government Printer 1897; North Queensland Ethnography, Brisbane 1901-1909. 27. Refer to note 5, this chapter. 28. Annee sociologique, V, pp. 82ff and VIII, pp. 118ff. 29. Ibid, mainly V, p. 90 and VII, p. 145. 30. Arnold van Gennep: Mythes et legendes d'Australie: etudes d'ethnographie et de sociologie, Paris, E. Guilmoto, 1906, p. xiii. 31. A. Lang, Secret of Totem, pp. 59-90 and the article in the collection, 'Anthrop. Essays presented to E. B. Tylor', pp. 210-18. 32. ZeitschriftfurEthnologie,XL. (1908, pp. 886ff). 33. Aside from the fact that he argues this in many places, passim, he devotes special passages to this question: Vol. I, pp. 89-138, pp. 175 and 314--19. 34. I, p. 103. 35. I, p. 162. 36. I, p. 350. 37. Native Tribes, p. 12; Northern Tribes, p. 26. 38. I, pp. 161-3; 166-259 and especially IV, pp. 136ff. 39. IV, p. 154. 281

Notes to pages 139-145 40. 41. 42. 43. 44. 45. 46.

47.

48. 49.

50. 51.

52.

IV, p. 158. I, pp. 102 and 103. I, pp. 118-20. I, pp. 121-2. I, p. 104. I, p. 118. In his article in Annee sociologique, V, pp. 82ff, Professor Durkheim gives a series of convincing reasons, which lean toward the supposition that among the central tribes exogamy was originally strictly bound with totemism. Such a discussion has already been undertaken, which has resulted in a number of valuable works. Above all, we must here mention the treatise of Hubert and Mauss; 'Esquisse d'une theorie generate de la magie', Annee sociologique, VII; Durkheim, 'De la definition des phenomenes religieux', Annee sociol., II; Frazer, The Golden Bough: A Study of Magic and Religion, vol. I, chapt. 1, 2nd edition (London, Macmillan, 1900). Compare the first part of this article with issues II—III of Lud, 1911, p. 53. The problem of the precise definition of totemism will be dealt with below. The scheme recorded here was not covered in the division of totemic phenomena into social and religious which Frazer introduced in his study on totemism. Religion is both a form of social organization and a collection of beliefs and ideas, and that is why it is not possible to contrast religious phenomena with social phenomena, for the former actually contain in themselves both social phenomena and also the beliefs of a given people. Frazer describes totemism in the Torres Straits Islands in volume II, pp. 1-24. Unfortunately, Ethnology is forced in its research to adapt itself not only to the material worth of a given people or tribe for a given question, but also to the quality of the collected material. Often the peoples, knowledge of whom would in all probability shed the greatest light on some fundamental puzzles of humanity, perish or degenerate before even a superficial observation of them can be made. Those peoples who have been well documented, although perhaps less interesting, must always play a disproportionate role in ethnography, which is one of its basic inadequacies. The Torres Straits Islanders were researched by learned ethnologists from Cambridge University; the great value of their work can serve as proof of how fertile is the natural manner of thinking in its application to the problems and observation in the field of popular culture. Because the totemic organization of these tribes should be spoken of in some cases in the past tense and in other cases in the present 282

Notes to pages 146-169

53.

54. 55.

56. 57. 58. 59. 60. 61. 62.

63. 64. 65. 66. 67. 68. 69.

70. 71.

tense, for the purpose of ease and simplicity, with this reservation, I will always use the present tense. The difference in culture between the Torres Straits Islanders and the Australians is explicit and based on such incontestable criteria that we cannot speak here of the difficulties in comparison, which were suggested by the comparisons of the different cultures of the Australian tribes. Compare with the later, broader discussion of this subject. The description of totemism in New Guinea', Frazer, [Totemism and Exogamy], II, pp. 25-62. The newest and most precise information about English and Dutch New Guinea can be found in the work of the English ethnologist, Dr Charles Gabriel Seligman, The Melanesians of British New Guinea (Cambridge University Press, 1910). The members of the English scientific expedition have collected information about the pygmy tribes in Reports Brit. Asso. Section H (Anthropology), Portsmouth meeting, 1910. 'Description of the Melanesians and their totemism', II, pp. 63150. Compare Frazer, II, pp. 151-85; Samoa, pp. 151-67. Frazer, The Golden Bough, Part I, The magic art and the evolution of kings', I, p. 52. Ibid. Ibid., p. 53. Ibid. The reader can find a criticism of these views of Frazer's, based on an excellent understanding and an interesting presentation of the facts, in the article by Hubert and Mauss, 'Essai d'une theorie generate de la magie', Annee sociologique, VII. Frazer, The Golden Bough, p. 222. Ibid., p. 223. Ibid., p. 224. Ibid. See the cited volume, chapt. Ill, 'Sympathetic magic', pp. 52-212, where the author illustrates his immensely simple theory with a huge number of facts. See Levy-Bruhl, Les fonctions mentales dans les societes inferieures (Paris: F. Alcan, 1910). But he does not do so in chapter IV, 'Magic and religion', vol. I of the cited work, where he examines the problem systematically and fundamentally. From this we can see how little meaning he attaches to the sociological aspect of the problem. See Frazer, vol. II, pp. 185-217, on totemism in Indonesia; pp. 18597 on Sumatra in particular. Totemism in India', see vol. II, pp. 218-35. 283

Notes to pages 169-188 72. Totemism in South Africa', II, pp. 354—93; in Eastern and Central Africa, II, pp. 394-542. 73. 'Description of the totemism of the Baganda', II, pp. 463-513. 74. Frazer dedicates volume III of his work to the totemism of the American peoples, pp. 1-250 to the redskins of the United States and Canada, pp. 251-369 to the totemism of the South American Indians, pp. 370-456 to the institution of 'guardian spirits'. 75. In Spanish, pueblo means 'village', 'colony'. 76. Ill, pp. 2-3. 77. See Frazer, III, pp. 85-117. 78. Ill, pp. 195-241. 79. There is very little to say about totemism in South America. Frazer gives an account of these facts in three short chapters, III, pp. 557-83. 80. With the title 'Totemism and exogamy', IV, pp. 1-40. 81. The origins of totemism', IV, pp. 40-71. 82. 'The origins of exogamy', IV, pp. 71-169. 83. The views on exogamy given by Frazer are contained in the few words above, in the discussion of the Australian facts. Reading these same things in the arguments of chapter three of volume IV, we have the impression that the author has only those facts before him. He explains these views here only a little more broadly, and this is another reason why we need turn to these only briefly. 84. As we know, such a social state was postulated by Morgan, whose theories about the primitive forms of the family and their development Frazer, in general, accepts. These theories have often been subject to basic criticism, and especially his hypothesis of primitive 'promiscuity', in which there are few who still believe today. The broadest and harshest criticism of these views of Morgan's is found in the classic work of Edvard Westermarck, The History of Human Marriage [London: Macmillan, 1891 (2)), [German and French translations exist]. 85. Frazer, Totemism and Exogamy. A Treatise on Certain Early Forms of Superstition and Society, 4 vols. (London: Macmillan and Co., 1910), IV, section 3. 86. IV, pp. 160-9. 87. Frazer, Totemism and Exogamy, IV, p. 3. 88. Frazer, in the place which I have emphasized, does not say 'pure totemism' explicitly (part I, vol. IV), but such an understanding is implicit in the whole notion of totemism. See the first part of this article on Australian totemism and vol. I of Frazer, pp. 89-172, in the section to which I am referring (part I, vol. IV) in which, wherever the author wants to describe some trait of pure totemism, he utilizes central Australian data, i.e. the Arunta tribe (cf. pp. 4, 5, 6, 7 and passim). 284

Notes to pages 188-198 89. 90. 91. 92. 93. 94.

95. 96. 97. 98. 99. 100.

101. 102.

103. 104. 105. 106.

107. 108. 109. 110. 111.

IV, pp. 3 and 4. IV, pp. 5, 6. IV, pp. 4, 5. IV, pp. 6-8. IV, pp. 8-11. Frazer, in this discussion talks exclusively about intichiuma ceremonies which were referred to above in the description of Australian totemism. Frazer, however, does not see the very economic aspect in these ceremonies. In the first part of this article, I briefly noted how much it would be possible to speak about the economic significance of these ceremonies. I have worked out my ideas more briefly in the article, The economic aspect of the intichiuma ceremonies' in Festskrift tillegnad Edvard Westermarck (Helsingfors, 1912). IV, pp. 24-7. IV, pp. 27-38. See above, the second part of this article. pp. 38-41. Originally presented in The Golden Bough, 2nd edition, II, pp. 322ff. See Totemism and Exogamy, IV, p. 53, as well as footnotes 1 and 2 where Frazer cites the opinion of Clodd and Wilken and the bibliography of the subject. IV, p. 54. See above, the first part of this article which deals with Australian totemism, and the article The economic aspect of the intichiuma ceremonies'. See above, the first part of the article where I refer to this hypothesis. See above, the first part of this article. See above, the second part of this article. See what is said above about the definition of totemism and Frazer's avoidance of the basic problem of comparison. His theory explains nothing, is neither true nor false, but simply worthless. See IV, p. 42. Frazer reflects on the possibility of a different, nonequivalent, contrary hypothesis and rejects it. Frazer, I, pp. 60-1. See what I have said earlier about Frazer's theory of exogamy. Frazer, Totemism and Exogamy, IV, p. 61. To the first category of scholars, aside from Frazer, belong Dr Rivers: Journal [of the Royal] Anthropological Institute, XXXIX; Dr Haddon: Reports [of the] British Association, Belfast meeting, Presidential section; Frank Byron Jevons: Introduction to the History of Religion (London: Methuen, 1927 9th edition; 2nd edition, 1902); Robertson Smith: Religion of [the] Semites; McLennan: articles in Fortnightly Review 1869 and 1870; Grabner: in Reports of the British 285

Notes to pages 199-210 Assoc. 1910; Salomon Reinach: Cultes, mythes, religions, introduction, [translation: Cults, Myths and Religions (London: Nutt, 1912)]; Emile Durkheim: Annee sociologique and a study on the origins of the prohibitions against cannibalism and the newly published book, Les formes elementaires de la vie religieuse, le systeme totemique en Australie, Paris, F. Alcan, 1912, [translation: The Elementary Forms of the Religious Life: a Study in Religious Sociology (1915; London: Allen and Unwin, 1976)]. To the second, less numerous category belong X. W. Schmidt, Hill Tout and Powell (see Goldenweiser, loc. cit., pp. 268ff. and 276ff.). In a standpoint similar to that taken by us are Goldenweiser, see the text from the Journal of A. F. Lore, vol. 23 ['Totemism, an Analytical Study', Journal of American Folklore Society, vol. 20 (1910), New York], and van Gennep in Revue de VHistoire des Religions, vol. 58, p. 34 and further in Folk Lore, 1911. 112. The reader will find an attempt at solving the problems relating to the essence and genesis of totemism and primitive religion in the work by this author on 'Primitive beliefs and social differentiation', which will certainly appear in print before long. 6 The economic aspect of the intichiuma ceremonies 1. A short extract of the present paper has been read before the Section of Anthropology of the British Association at the meeting in Portsmouth. 2. Frazer, Totemism and Exogamy. A Treatise on Certain Early Forms of Superstition and Society (London: Macmillan and Co. Limited, 1910), IV, pp. 18-24. 3. Ibid., p. 18. 4. Frazer, Totemism and Exogamy IV, pp. 18 and 19. 5. 'On the whole, then, there is little to show that totemism has contributed anything to the economic progress of mankind'. But the author adds immediately, 'Still from the nature of the case evidence would be hard to obtain, and from its absence we cannot safely conclude that the institution has been as economically barren as it seems to be'. Frazer, Totemism and Exogamy, p. 24. 6. It may be added moreover that the phenomena of 'division of labour' appears to be less simple than has been hitherto supposed: cf. Karl Bucher, Industrial Evolution [(New York: Holt, 1912) (translated by S. Morley Wickett)], ch. VIII, pp. 282ff of the Engl. edition. In order to prove that we find in the intichiuma ceremonies any form of division of labour, a detailed analysis of fact would be necessary, with a precise indication of the details displaying this aspect. Unless this is done the analogy between co-operation in the intichiuma 286

Notes to pages 210-212

7.

8. 9.

10. 11.

12. 13. 14. 15.

16. 17. 18. 19. 20. 21. 22.

23.

ceremonies and economic co-operation cannot be treated as anything more than a superficial resemblance. In my opinion it is, in fact, nothing more. When the tribe is not mentioned, the remark refers to all the tribes described by Messrs Spencer and Gillen. It must not be forgotten that our information about the Arunta tribe is by far the most detailed and accurate. Cf. G. C. Wheeler, The Tribe and Inter-Tribal Relations, pp. 55 and 56. 'Each Group has an intichiuma of its own, which can only be taken part in by the initiated men bearing the group names' - Spencer and Gillen, The Native Tribes of Central Australia (London: Macmillan and Co. Limited, 1895), p. 169. 'In the performance of this Ceremony the alatunja takes the leading part'. Ibid., p. 11. Cf. Spencer and Gillen, The Northern Tribes of Central Australia (London: Macmillan and Co. Limited; New York: Macmillan, 1904), p. 291. Ibid., pp. 291-7. Ibid., p. 316. The Northern Tribes of Central Australia, p. 316. Spencer and Gillen, The Native Tribes of Central Australia, p. 167. Compare The Northern Tribes of Central Australia, p. 288. As the footnotes refer almost exclusively to the two works of Messrs Spencer and Gillen, the abbreviations Nat. Tr. and North Tr. will be used. North Tr., p. 297. Ibid., pp. 315ff. Nat. Tr., pp. 171ff. Ibid., p. 185. Ibid., p. 193. Ibid., p. 201. We read of the totemic ceremonies in general: 'It is astonishing how large a part of a native's life is occupied with the performance of these ceremonies, the enacting of which extends sometimes over the whole of two or three months . . . during which time one or more will be performed daily'. This refers especially to the initiation ceremonies, but the intichiuma series are probably of very long duration if the preparation be taken into account. Compare also North. Tr., pp. 298-9, referring to the Warramunga. North. Tr., pp. 291^1.

24. North. Tr., pp. 294H5.

25. North. Tr., p. 296. 26. North. Tr., p. 297. 27. North. Tr., p. 309. 287

Notes to pages 212-219 28. North. Tr., pp. 285-7. 29. Ibid., pp. 237 & 288. 30. The facts which we possess are entirely due to Messrs. Spencer and Gillen. Herr Strehlow deals only superficially with the rites, putting stress on the songs. 31. Nat. Tr., pp. 10, 11 & 169. Strehlow, Die Aranda und Loritja-Stdmme in Zentral Australien (Frankfurt am Main, J. Baer and co., 5 vols 1907-1920. Part III, 1910, p. 2). 32. Nat. Tr., pp. 169-70. 33. Nat. Tr., p. 170. 34. Nat. Tr., pp. 203^1. 35. Nat. Tr., p. 205. 36. Nat. Tr., p. 184. 37. North, Tr., p. 293. 38. Ibid., p. 296. 39. Ibid., p. 296. 40. North. Tr., p. 317. 41. Nat. Tr., p. 167. 42. Strehlow, III, p. 8. 43. Ibid., Ill, p. 8. 44. Nat. Tr., p. 519. 45. Ibid., p. 170. 46. Ibid. 47. Compare Strehlow, III, p. 8. 48. 'Noch andere Zwecke fur deren Auffiihrung an . . .'. 49. Strehlow, III, p. 8. 50. Samuel Gason, The Diyerie Tribe of Australian Aborigines (1874), p. 25. 51. Ibid., pp. 26 and 25. 52. North Tr., p. 285. 53. See North Tr., pp. 291-7, and esp. pp. 297-309. 54. Ibid., pp. 309,311 and 317. 55. Ibid., pp. 312 and 313. 56. Ibid., pp. 312 and 313. 57. Dr Haddon has recorded two of these ceremonies, connected with the dugong and the turtle. See Reports of the Cambridge Expedition to the Torres Straits, V, pp. 182ff. 58. Nat. Tr., pp. 19-21. 59. Ibid., p. 203. 60. Ibid., p. 204. 61. Ibid., pp. 205 and 206. 62. See North. Tr., pp. 317-18 and Strehlow, III, pp. 13, passim. It appears from his description that nearly all 'Mbatial-katiuma' have their Treigabe'. Unfortunately no details at all are given by this author. 288

Notes to pages 218-229 63. Or aims which may early develop into economic ones. 64. In particular the idea of specialization according to clan. This was not capable of economic development, being entirely illusory and having really only a superficial resemblance to the corresponding economic facts. 65. See North Tr., p. 315. 66. This suggestion has been made already by Messrs Spencer and Gillen in Nat. Tr. In his recent researches among the natives living North-West of those described in the Northern Tribes, Prof. B. Spencer could not discover any ceremonies of the intichiuma type. It is added: The absence of intichiuma ceremonies is doubtless to be associated with the fact that the tribes in the far North live under conditions very different from those of the central area. They never suffer from drought or lack of food supply. This seems to show that the intichiuma ceremonies are a special development of tribes that live in parts, such as Central Australia, where the food supply is precarious'. Short note about Prof. B. Spencer's recent discoveries among the natives living between Roper River and Port Darwin in Atheneum, 4 Nov. 1911, p. 562. 67. For a full statement of the subject, cf. Ferrero, 'Les formes primitives du travail', in Rev. Scient., 4e Serie, Tome V, 1896, pp. 31 Iff; Karl Biicher, Arbeit und Rhythmus (Leipzig: Teubner, 1899), especially the first chapter in Labor and Rhythm and Industrial Evolution (see note 6 above) the first two chapters. These two authors have brought forth the problem of primitive labour and its evolution. The highly valuable results attained, especially by Prof. Biicher (Ferrero wrote only a short article on the subject) best show the importance of this problem. 68. Prof. Biicher has shown in his work on Labour and Rhythm that rhythm is a powerful incentive to work. He has arrived at results of high theoretical importance for economics and sociology. The same author remarks that where most wearisome labour is involved in the manufacture of elaborate ornaments, the immediate pleasure of adornment acts as an incentive to labour. Hence the fact that savages produce objects of adornment rather than objects of purely practical use. Ferrero gives an analysis of the mental process underlying such activities as hunting, warfare, dancing, etc. 7 The relationship ofprimitive beliefs to the forms of social organization 1. J. G. Frazer: Totemism and Exogamy: A Treatise on Certain Early Forms of Superstition and Society, 4 vols. (London: Macmillan and Company, 1910). Durkheim: Les formes elementaires de la vie religieuse, le systeme totemique en Australie (Paris: F. Alcan, 1912). In 289

Notes to pages 229-249 both of these works totemism is the main subject of research. Wundt: Elemente der Volkerpsychologie (Leipzig, 1912). Wundt divides the evolution of man into four epochs, the second of which he calls 'das totemistische Zeitalter'. 2. It suffices to mention the following: Salomon Reinach, who uses totemism as an archeological panacea; Amelineau, who uses totemism to explain Egyptian religious phenomena; Sir Laurence Gomme, who reads the vestiges of totemism into the Celtic culture. For detailed bibliographical criticisms of these views see: Revue de VHistoire des Religions, vol. LVII, pp. 333ff (the article of J. Toutain) and vol. LVIII, pp. 34ff (the article by A. von Gennep). 3. In fact, the opinions of scholars are absolutely split; some even consider totemism to be the creation of ethnologists' imaginations, who see unity in a number of features which have nothing in common. For example, Goldenweiser, Totemism, an analytical study (New York, 1910). A reprint from the Journal of American Folklore Society (1910). 4. Such is the theory of H. Spencer and Lubbock, deducing totemism from the misinterpretation of nicknames. 8 A fundamental problem of religious sociology 1. Originally published in Reports of the British Association for the Advancement of Science, XXXIV, Transactions of Section H, Australia, 28 July-31 August 1914. London, 1915, pp. 534-5. 2. Les formes elementaires de la vie religieuse, Paris, 1912. [The Elementary Forms of the Religious Life, trans. J. W. Swain (London: Allen &Unwin, 1915)]. 3. Notes and Queries on Anthropology, 4th edition (London, 1912). Article on religion. [Routledge and Kegan Paul.] 4. Article on religion in Sociological Tapers, 3 (London, 1914). 5. [Spencer and Gillen], Northern Tribes of Central Australia, p. 33. 6. Ethno-psychologische Studien an Sudseevolkern [aufdem BismarckArchipel und den Solomon-Inseln]. In Beiheft 6 zur Zeitschrift fur angew[andte Tsychologie und psychologische Sammelforschung] Leipzig [Barth], 1913. Paragraph on magic. 9 Sociology of the family 1. Westermarck, Edvard Alexander, The History of Human Marriage, 2 vols. (London, Macmillan, 1891). 2. The most detailed presentation of the history of the problems is found in G. E. Howard, History of Matrimonial Institutions, 3 vols. (Chicago University Press, 1904), I, part 1. The best general summaries 290

Notes to pages 250-251 are found in A. Posada, Theories modernes sur les origines de la famille [Modern Theories of the Origin of the Family] (Paris, 1896); and Bernhoft, 'Zur Geschichte des europdischen Familienrechtes' [On the History of European Family Law] in Zeitschrift fur vergleichende Rechtswissenschaft, VIII, s. 1-27, 161-221, 384-405; and in Kohler, 'Zur Urgeschichte der Ehe: Totemismus, Gruppenehe, Mutterrecht', special issue of the same journal, XII, Stuttgart, 1897. The best and most complete bibliography is found in the cited work by Howard. Their value is enhanced by the fact that the author classifies his bibliography so that the works of different trends and schools are listed under separate headings. In addition the bibliographical material can also be found in the works mentioned below by Starke and Westermarck. 3. Maine, Henry Sumner, Ancient Law (London: J. Murray, 1861). 4. Fustel de Coulanges, Numa Denis, La cite antique: etude sur le culte, le droit, les institutions de la Grece et de Rome (Paris: L. Hachette et cie., 1864) [The Ancient City: A Study on the Religion, Laws, and Institutions of Greece and Rome, trans. Willard Small (Boston, Lee andShephard, 1874)]. 5. Hearn, W. E., The Aryan Household, Its Structure and its Development: An Introduction to Comparative Jurisprudence (London: Longmans, Green & Co., 1879). 6. Grote, George, History of Greece (London: J. Murray, 1846-56) [1872 - text]. 7. Leist, Burkard Wilhelm, Graeco-italische Rechtsgeschichte (Jena, 1884). 8. Leist, Burkard Wilhelm, Alt-arisches Jus Gentium (Jena: G. Fischer, 1889). 9. Schrader, O., Sprach-vergleichung und Urgeschichte (Jena: Hermann Costenoble, 1883). 10. Delbriick, Berthold, Die indogermanischen Verwandschaftsnamen. Ein Beitrag zur vergleichenden Altertumskunde (Leipzig: S. Hirzel, 1885). 11. Bernhoft. 12. Bachofen, Johann Jakob, Das Mutterrecht: Eine Untersuchung uber die Gynaekokratie der alten Welt nach ihrer religiosen und rechtlichen Natur (Stuttgart: Krais & Hoffmann, 1861) [Le Droit de la mere dans Yantiquite, preface de l'ouvrage 'Das Mutterrecht', translated and published by Groupe frangais d'etudes feministes, Paris, 1903]. 13. Bachofen, Johann Jakob, Die Sage von Tanaquil. Eine Untersuchung uber den Orientalismus in Rom und Italien (Heidelberg: J. C. B. Mohr, 1870). 14. Bachofen, Johann Jakob, Antiquarische Briefe, vornehmlich zur 291

Notes to pages 252-256

15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20. 21. 22.

23. 24. 25. 26.

27. 28. 29. 30. 31.

Kenntnis der Altesten (Strassburg: K. J. Trubner, 1880- [1886text]). Starke, Carl Nicolai. The Primitive Family. New York, 1889. McLennan, J. F., Studies in Ancient History: Comprising a Reprint of Primitive Marriage (London and New York: Macmillan & Co., 1886). Morgan, Lewis Henry, Systems of Consanguinity and Affinity of the Human Family (Washington, Smithsonian Institute, 1870 [1871 text]). Morgan, Lewis Henry, Ancient Society; or, Researches in the Lines of Human Progress from Savagery, through Barbarism to Civilization (New York: H. Holt & Company, 1877). Lafitau, Joseph Frangois, Moeurs des sauvages ameriquains, comparees aux moeurs des premiers temps (Paris: Saugrain l'aine, 1724). Morgan, Lewis Henry, Houses and House-Life of the American Aborigines (Washington, 1881). Howard, G. E., A History of Matrimonial Institutions, 1904. Vol. I, p. 60; or L. H. Morgan, Houses and Houses Life, 1881. Lord Avebury, (Sir John Lubbock), The Origin of Civilisation and Primitive Condition of Man; Mental and Social Condition of Savages, 7th edn (London, New York: Longmans, Green & Co., 1912) (1st edition, 1870). Lord Avebury, (Sir John Lubbock),'On the development of relationships', in the Journal of the Anthropological Institute I: 1-20, London, 1872. Lippert, Julius: Die Geschichte der Familie (Stuttgart, 1884). Post, Albert Hermann, Die Geschlechtsgenossenschaft der Urzeit und die Entstehung der Ehe (Oldenburg: Schultze, 1875). Post, Albert Hermann, Studien zur Entwicklungsgeschichte des Familienrechts. Ein Beitrag zu einer allgemeinen vergleichenden Rechtswissenschaft auf ethnologischer Basis (Oldenburg & Leipzig: Schulzesche Hof-Buchhandlung (A. Schwartz), 1889 [1890-text]). Kohler, Josef, Zur Urgeschichte der Ehe: Totemismus, Gruppenehe, Mutterrecht (Stuttgart, 1897). Reprint from vol. XII of Zeitschrift fur vergleichende Rechtswissenschaft. Friedrichs, K, 'Uber den Ursprung des Matriarchats', in Zeitschrift fur vergleichende Rechtswissenschaft, VIII, Stuttgart, 1889 and 'Familienstufen und Eheformen', Stuttgart, 1892. Fison, Lorimer and Alfred William Howitt: Kamilaroi and Kurnai (Melbourne, 1880). Howitt, Alfred William, Native Tribes of S.E. Australia (London, Macmillan & Company, 1904). Cunow, Heinrich, Die Verwandtschaftsorganisationen der Australneger (Stuttgart, 1894). 292

Notes to pages 256-259 32. Smith, W. Robertson, Kinship and Marriage in Early Arabia (Cambridge, 1885). 33. Wilken, G, Das Matriarchat bei den alten Arabern (Leipzig, 1884). 34. Frazer, James George, Totemism and Exogamy, a Treatise on Certain Early Forms of Superstition and Society (London: Macmillan and Co. Limited, 1910). 35. Letourneau, Charles Jean Marie, Uevolution du manage et de la famille (Paris: A. Delahaye et E. Lecrosnier, 1888) [The Evolution of Marriage and of the Family (New York: C. Scribner's Sons, 1891)]. 36. Kovalevskii [Kowalewski], Maksim Maksimovich, Modern Customs and Ancient Laws in Russia; being the Ilchester lectures for 1889-90 (London: D. Nutt, 1891). 37. Durkheim, 1898 (see his reviews of some works about the family in Annee Sociologique, vol. 1). 38. Engels, Friedrich, Der Ursprung der Familie, des Trivateigentums, und des Staats, Im Anschluss an Lewis H. Morgan's Forschungen (Stuttgart: J. H. W. Dietz, nachf. (gmbh), 1900 [1892 - text]) [The Origin of the Family, Private Property and the State, trans. Ernest Untermann (Chicago: C. H. Kerr and Company, 1902)]. 39. Kautsky, Karl, Die Entstehung der Ehe und Familie [The Genesis of Marriage and the Family] Kosmos, XII (Stuttgart, 1882). 40. Bebel, August, Die Frau und der Sozialismus [The Woman and Socialism] 50 Ausgabe (Stuttgart: J. H. W. Dietz, nachf, 1910). 41. Spencer, Baldwin and F. J. Gillen, The Native Tribes of Central Australia (London: Macmillan and Co. Limited, 1895). 42. Spencer, Baldwin and F. J. Gillen, The Northern Tribes of Central Australia (London: Macmillan and Co. Limited; New York: The Macmillan Company, 1904). 43. Rivers, W. H. R., Kinship and Social Organization (London: Constable & Co. Ltd, 1914). 44. Hildebrand, Richard, Uber das Vroblem einer allgemeinen Entwicklungsgeschichte des Rechts und der Sine. Inaugurations rede, gehalten am 15. November 1893 (Graz: Leuscher & Lubensky, 1894). 45. Hildebrand, Richard, Recht und Sitte auf den verschiedenen Kulturstufen, pt. 1 (Jena: G. Fischer, 1896). 46. Hellwald, Friedrich von, Die menschliche Familie (Leipzig, 1889). 47. Dargun, Lothar: Mutterrecht und Raubehe und ihre Reste im germanischen Recht und Leben (Breslau: W. Koebner, 1883). 48. Dargun, Lothar, Mutterrecht und Vaterrecht (Leipzig, 1892). 49. [Malinowski's note:] For him this had been done already by Hellwald and Letourneau albeit less completely and thoroughly. The first to be mentioned in this context is Darwin, who points out the biological inadequacy of the notion of promiscuity in his Descent of Man. 293

Notes to pages 259-266

50. 51. 52.

53.

54. 55. 56. 57. 58. 59. 60.

61.

62. 63. 64. 65. 66.

[Westermarck, Edvard Alexander, The History of Human Marriage, 2 vols. (London, Macmillan, 1891)]. Miiller-Lyer's Family. Starke, Carl Nicolai, Die primitive Familie (Leipzig, 1888). [Malinowski's note:] Although one of the above mentioned works, Dargun's Mutterrecht und Vaterrecht gives an analysis of the kinship problems which is more extensive than Westermarck's and certainly more thorough than Starke's, it should be remembered that chronologically priority is due to Starke's and Westermarck's investigations. Westermarck is often quoted by Dargun. Tylor, Edward, 'On a method of investigating the development of institutions, applied to laws of marriage and descent', in the Journal of the Royal Anthropological Institute, vol. XVIII, pp. 245ff (London, 1889). Grosse, Ernst, Die Formen der Familie und die Formen der Wirtschaft (Freiburg and Leipzig: J. C. B. Mohr (P. Siebeck), 1896). Crawley, Alfred Ernest, The Mystic Rose: A Study of Primitive Marriage and ofVrimitive Thought in its Bearing on Marriage (London: Methuen, 1902). Westermarck, Edvard Alexander, Marriage Ceremonies in Morocco (London, Macmillan, 1914). Miiller-Lyer, F., Entwicklungsgeschichte der Menschheit. Kirchhof, G., Mechanik (Leipzig, 1874), pt. 1. Riehl, A., Die Familie (Stuttgart, 1885). Howard, George Elliot, History of Matrimonial Institutions (Chicago and London, 1904), vol. Ill, Bibliographic Note XVIII, pp. 161-7; Bibliographical Index, IV. Problems of Marriage and the Family, pp. 355—98. A History of Matrimonial Institutions chiefly in England and the United States, with an Introductory Analysis of the Literature and Theories of Primitive Marriage and the Family (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, Callaghan and Company, 1904). Le Play, Pierre Guillaume Frederic, Uorganisation de la familie selon le vrai modele signale par Yhistoire de toutes les races et de tous les temps, 3rd edn. (Tours: A. Mame et fils, 1884) [in text:- 4th edition, Tours et Paris 1895; (cf. Auburtin, Frederic le Play d'apres lui-meme, Paris 1906)]. Le Play, Pierre Guillaume Frederic, Les Ouvriers Europeens (Paris, Imprimerie imperiale, 1885; 2nd edition Tours, A. Mame et fils, 18779, [1875-in text]. Le Play, Pierre Guillaume Frederic, Ouvriers des deux mondes, published by his pupils. Todd, A., The Family (New York, 1913). See earlier note. Howard, George Elliot, A History of Matrimonial Institutions chiefly 294

Notes to page 267

67. 68. 69. 70.

in England and the United States, with an Introductory Analysis of the Literature and Theories of Primitive Marriage and the Family (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, Callaghan and Company, 1904), III, pp. 235ff. Wright, Carroll Davidson, Marriage and Divorce in the United States, 1867-1886 (Washington, 1889). Reports of the National Divorce League. Reports of the National League for the Protection of the Family. Muller-Lyer, Die Familie (Munich, 1912), chs X and XI.

295

REFERENCES

Ackerman, Robert. 1987. James Frazer: His Life and Work. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Amelineau, Emile Clement. 1895. Essai sur revolution historique et philosophique des idees morales dans 1*Egypt ancien. Ouvrages couronnee par l'Academie des sciences morales et politiques. Paris: E. Leroux. Avenarius, Richard Heinrich Ludwig. 1876. Philosophie als Denken der Welt gema'ss dem Prinzip des kleinsten Kraftmasses. Prolegomena zu einer Kritik der reinen Erfahrung [Philosophy as Thought about the World in Accordance with the Principle of the Least Amount of Energy: Prolegomena to a Critique of Pure Experience]. Leipzig: Fues Verlag. 1888, 1990. Kritik der reinen Erfahrung [Critique of Pure Experience]. 2 vols. Leipzig: Reisland. Bachofen, Johann Jakob. 1861. Das Mutterrecht: Eine Untersuchung iiber die Gynaekokratie der alten Welt nach ihrer religiosen und rechtlichen Natur. Stuttgart: Krais & Hoffmann. [Myth, Religion and Mother Right: Selected Writings of].]. Bachofen. Trans. Ralph Manheim. Princeton: Princeton University Press. 1967.] 1870. Die Sage von Tanaquil. Eine Untersuchung iiber den Orientalismus in Rom und Italien. Heidelberg: J. C. B. Mohr. 1986. Antiquarische Briefe, vornehmlich zur Kenntniss der Altesten, Strassburg: K. J. Trubner. Bebel, August. 1910. Die Frau und der Sozialismus, 50. Ausgabe. Stuttgart: Dietz, nachf. [Woman and Socialism. Trans. Meta L. Stearn. New York: Socialist Literature Co., 1910.] Berkowitz, Paul. 1987. The Foundations of Nietzsche's Political Philosophy, Yale University Ph.D. Dissertation. Bernhoft, Franz. 1888. 'Zur Geschichte des europaischen Familienrechtes' [On the History of European Family Law]. In Zeitschrift fur vergleichende Rechtswissenschaft 8: 1-27, 161-221, 384-405. Bluh, Otto. 1970. 'Ernst Mach, his life as a teacher and thinker'. In Ernst Mach: Physicist and Philosopher. Ed. R. S. Cohen and R. J. Seeger. 297

References Boston Studies in the Philosophy of Science, vol. 6. Dordrecht: D. Reidel. Boas, Franz. 1940 [1896]. The Limitations of the Comparative Method of Anthropology'. In Race, Language and Culture. New York: Macmillan. Borowska, Ewa. 1971. 'Lata polskiej mlodosci Bronislawa Malinowskiego' (zarys sylwietki uczonego do chwili wyjazdu z Polski w grudniu 1910). Master of Arts thesis. Jagiellonian University, Cracow. 1976. 'Polskie prace Bronislawa Malinowskiego'. Zeszyty naukowe Uniwersytetu Jagiellonskiego. Trace etnograficzne 9:95-104. British Association for the Advancement of Science. 1912. Notes and Queries on Anthropology. 4th edn. London: Routledge and Kegan Paul. Biicher, Karl. 1899. Arbeit und Rhythmus [Labor and Rhythm]. Leipzig: Teubner. 1904. Die Entstehung der Volkswirtschaft. Vortrdge und Versuche. Tubingen: Laupp [Industrial Evolution. Trans. S. Morley Wickett. New York: Holt.] Buchowsky, M. 1986. 'Welcome to Poland'. Anthropology Today 2(3):24-5. Buckle, Henry Thomas. 1857. History of Civilization in England. 2 vols. London: Parker and Son. Clifford, James. 1986. 'On Ethnographic Self-fashioning: Conrad and Malinowski'. In T. Heller, M. Sosna, and D. Welbery, eds. Reconstructing Individualism. Stanford: Stanford University Press. [Reprinted in J. Clifford. The Predicament of Culture. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1988.] Cohen, Robert S. 1970. 'Physics, Perception and Philosophy of Science'. In Ernst Mach, Physicist and Philosopher. Ed. R. S. Cohen and R. J. Seeger. Boston Studies in the Philosophy of Science, vol. 6. Dordrecht, Netherlands: D. Reidel. Cohen, Robert S. and R. J. Seeger. 1970. Ernst Mach: Physicist and Philosopher. Boston Studies in the Philosophy of Science, vol. 6. Dordrecht, Netherlands: D. Reidel. Collingwood, R. G. 1939. An Autobiography. London. [Reprinted, with a new introduction by Stephen Toulmin. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1978.] Cornelius, H. 1894. Versuch einer Theorie der Existentialurteile. Munich: Rieger. 1897. Psychologie als Erfahrungswissenschaft. Leipzig: Teubner. 1903. Einleitung in die Philosophie. Leipzig: Teubner. Coulanges, Numa Denis Fustel de. 1864. La Cite antique: etude sur le culte, le droit, les institutions de la Grece et de Rome. Paris: Hachette. [The Ancient City: A Study on the Religion, Laws, and 298

References Institutions of Greece and Rome. Trans. Willard Small. Boston: Lee and Shephard, 1874.] Crawley, Alfred Ernest. 1902. The Mystic Rose: A Study of Primitive Marriage and of Primitive Thought in its Bearing on Marriage. London; Methuen. Cunow, Heinrich. 1894. Die Verwandtschaftsorganisationen der Australneger, ein Beitrag zur Entwickelungsgeschichte der Familie. Stuttgart: Dietz. Dargun, Lothar. 1883. Mutterrecht und Raubehe und ihre Reste im germanischen Recht und Leben. Breslau: W. Koebner. 1892. Mutterrecht und Vaterrecht. Leipzig: Duncker und Humblot. Darwin, Charles. 1871. Descent of Man and Selection in Relation to Sex. London: Murray. 1872. On the Expression of the Emotions in Man and Animals. London. [Reprinted University of Chicago Press, 1965.] Delbriick, Berthold. 1885. Die indogermanischen Verwandtschaftsnamen. Ein Beitrag zur vergleichenden Altertumskunde, Leipzig: S. Hirzel. Dewey, John. 1925. Experience and Nature. The Paul Carus Lecture Series, 1. Chicago: Open Court. [Reprinted 1971.] Dubowski, Adam. 1984. 'Z tradycji rodzinnej'. Tygodnik Powszechny, 8 April. Durkheim, Emile. 1898. 'La prohibition de l'inceste et ses origines'. Annee sociologique (Paris) 1:1-70. 1899. 'De la definition des phenomenes religieux'. Annee sociologique (Paris) 2:1-28. [Reprinted Nendeln, Lichtenstein: Kraus Reprint, 1969.] 1902. 'Sur le totemisme'. Annee sociologique (Paris) 5:82-125. 1905. 'Sur l'organisation matrimoniale des societes australiennes'. Annee sociologique (Paris) 8:118-47. [Reprinted Nendeln, Lichtenstein: Kraus Reprint, 1969.] 1912. Les formes elementaires de la vie religieuse, le systeme totemique en Australie. Paris: F. Alcan. [The Elementary Forms of the Religious Life. Trans. J. W. Swain. London: Allen & Unwin, 1915. Reprinted London: Allen and Unwin, 1976.] Eliot, George [Marian Evans]. 1846. The Life of Jesus Critically Examined. [English translation of David Strauss' Leben Jesu kritisch bearbeitet.] London: Chapman. Ellen, Roy. 1985. 'Poles apart: some reflections on the contemporary image of Malinowski in his homeland'. Anthropology Today Ellen, Roy, Ernest Gellner, Grazyna Kubica and Janusz Mucha, eds. 1988. Malinowski Between Two Worlds. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. 299

References Engels, Friedrich. 1892 [1884]. Der Ursprung der Familie, desPrivateigentums, und des Staats. Im Anschluss an Lewis H. Morgan's Forschungen. Stuttgart: Dietz, 1900. [The Origin of the Family, Private Property and the State (in the Light of the Researches of Lewis H. Morgan). Trans. Ernest Untermann. Chicago: C. H. Kerr and Company, 1902.] Estreicher, Karol. 1971. Leon Chwistek: biogratia artysty. Krakow: Paristwowe Wydawnictwo Naukowe. Fechner, Gustav Theodor. 1860. Elemente der Vsychophysik. 2 vols. Leipzig: Breitkopf and Hartel. [Elements ofVsychophysics. Trans. H. E. Adler, edited by D. H. Howes and E. G. Boring. New York: New York: Holt, Rhinehart, Winston, 1966.] Ferrero, Name. 1896. 'Les formes primitives du travail'. In Revue Scientifique 5, series 4. Firth, Raymond, ed. 1957. Man and Culture. London: Routledge and Kegan Paul. Fison, Lorimer and A. W. Howitt. 1880. Kamilaroi and Kurnai. Melbourne. Flis, Andrzej. 1983. 'Koncepcja czlowieka w antropologii Bronislawa Malinowskiego'. Kultura i spoleczenstwo 27(4):241-61. 1984. 'Bronislaw Malinowski's sociology and social anthropology'. In Masters ofVolish Sociology. Ed. P. Sztompka. Wroclaw: Ossolineum. 1985. Filozofia krakowska poczatku XX wieku i ksztaltowanie sie pogladow naukowych Malinowskiego. In M. Flis and Paluch, eds., pp. 11-33. 1988. 'Cracow philosophy at the beginning of the twentieth century, and the rise of Malinowski's scientific ideas'. In Malinowski Between Two Worlds. Roy Ellen et al. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Flis, A. and A. K. Paluch. 1984. 'Anthropologist in the modern world: the case of Bronislaw Malinowski'. Hemispheres 1:141-55. Flis, Mariola and A. K. Paluch, eds. 1985. Antropologia spoleczna Bronistawa Malinowskiego. Warszawa: Paristwowe Wydawnictwo Naukowe. Frank, Philipp. 1970. 'Mach's philosophy of science'. In Cohen and Seeger, eds. Ernst Mach, Physicist and Philosopher. Boston Studies in the Philosophy of Science, vol. 6. Dordrecht, Netherlands: D. Reidel. Frazer, James George. 1900. The Golden Bough: A Study of Magic and Religion. 2nd edn. London: Macmillan. 1910. Totemism and Exogamy: A Treatise on Certain Early Forms of Superstition and Society. 4 vols. London: Macmillan. Freud, Sigmund. 1925. Totem and Taboo: Resemblances Between the Psychic Lives of Savages and Neurotics. Trans. A. A. Brill. London: Routledge. 300

References Friedrichs, Karl. 1888. 'Uber den Ursprung des Matriarchats'. Zeitschrift fur vergleichende Rechtswissenschaft 8. Stuttgart. 1892. Tamilienstufen und Eheformen'. Zeitschrift fur vergleichende Rechtswissenschaft, 10. Stuttgart. Galton, Francis. 1888. 'Marriage systems of Australian Aborigines'. Journal of the Anthropological Institute (London) 18:70-2. Gason, Samuel. 1874. The Diyerie Tribe of Australian Aborigines. Edited by G. Isaacs. Adelaide. Geertz, Clifford. 1967. 'Under the mosquito net'. New York Review of Books, 14 Sept. 1967. 1988. 'I-witnessing: Malinowski's children'. In Works and Lives: The Anthropologist as Author. Stanford: Stanford University Press. Gellner, Ernest. 1985a. 'Malinowski go home'. Anthropology Today 1985b. 'Malinowski and the dialectic of past and present'. The Times Literary Supplement, 7 June 1985, pp. 645-6. 1986. 'Original sin: the legacy of Bronislaw Malinowski and the future of anthropology'. Times Higher Education Supplement 727:13. 1987. 'The Zeno of Cracow, or Revolution at Nemi, or The Polish Revenge'. In Culture, Identity and Volitics. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Goldenweiser, Alexander A. 1910. 'Totemism, an analytical study'. Journal of the American Folklore Society 23:179-293. Gomme, Sir Laurence. 1887. 'On the evidence for Mr. McLennan's theory of the primitive human horde'. Journal of the Anthropological Institute (London) 17:118-33. 1892. The Village Community. London: W. Scott. 1908. Folklore as an Historical Science. London: Methuen. Grabner, Fritz. 1910. 'Totemism'. In Reports of the Meetings, British Association for the Advancement of Science. Gross, Feliks. 1986. 'Young Malinowski and his later years'. American Ethnologist 13(3):556-70. Grosse, Ernst. 1896. Die Formen der Familie und die Formen der Wirtschaft. Freiburg and Leipzig: J. C. B. Mohr. Grote, George. 1872. [1846-56.] History of Greece. London: J. Murray. Haddon, Alfred Cort. 1904. Reports of the Cambridge Expedition to the Torres Straits. Vol. 5. 1910. 'Presidential Address'. Reports of the Meetings (Belfast). British Association for the Advancement of Science. Presidential section. Hartland, Edwin Sidney. 1900. 'Totemism and some recent discoveries.' Presidential Address. Folklore 9:52-80. 1909. Primitive Vaternity: The Myth of the Supernatural Birth in Relation to the History of the Family. London: D. Nutt. Hearn, William Edward E. 1879. The Aryan Household, Its Structure and 301

References Its Development: An Introduction to Comparative Jurisprudence. London: Longmans, Green & Co. Heller von Hellwald, Friedrich Anton. 1889. Die menschliche Familie nach ihrer Entstehung und naturlicher Entwickelung. Leipzig. Herbart, Johann Friedrich. 1825. Psychologie als Wissenschaft [Psychology as a Science], Koningsberg. [English translation in Collected Works, ed. G. Hartenstein, 13 vols. Hamburg 1883-1893. Also in Collected Works, ed. K. Kehrbach and O. Fleugel, 19 vols. Leipzig, 1887-1912; reprinted in 1963]. Hildebrand, Richard. 1894. Uber das Problem einer allgemeinen Entwicklungsgeschichte des Rechts und der Sitte. Inaugurations-rede, gehalten am 15 November 1893. Graz: Leuscher & Lubensky. 1896. Recht und Sitte aufden verschiedenen wirtschaftlichen Kulturstufen. Pt. 1. Jena: G. Fischer. Hill-Tout, Charles. 1903. Totemism: its origins and import'. Transactions of the Royal Society of Canada. 2nd ser. 9:61-99. 1904. 'Report on the ethnography of the Siciatl of British Columbia'. Journal of the Royal Anthropological Institute 34:20-91. Howard, George Elliot. 1904. A History of Matrimonial Institutions chiefly in England and the United States, with an introductory analysis of the literature and theories of primitive marriage and the family. 3 vols. Chicago: The University of Chicago Press. Howitt, Alfred William. 1904. Native Tribes of South East Australia. London, Macmillan. Howitt, Alfred William and Lorimer Fison. 1884. 'On the deme and the horde'. Journal of the Royal Anthropological Institute 14:142-68. Hubert, Henri and Marcel Mauss. 1904. 'Esquisse d'une theorie generale de la magie'. Annee sociologique 7:1-146. Jarvie, I. 1984. Rationality and Relativism: In Search of a Philosophy and History of Anthropology. London: Routledge and Kegan Paul. Jevons, Frank Byron. 1902 [1896]. Introduction to the History of Religion. 2nd edn. London: Methuen. Kant, Immanuel. 1879 [1791]. Foundations of the Metaphysics of Morals [Grundlegung zur Metaphysik der Sitten]. Trans. T. K. Abbott. London. Kaufmann, Walter. 1950. Nietzsche: Philosopher, Psychologist, Antichrist. Princeton: Princeton University Press. Kautsky, Karl. 1882. Die Entstehung der Ehe und Familie [The Genesis of Marriage and the Family] Kosmos: Zeitschrift fiir Entwicklungslehre und einheitliche Weltanschauung. Leipzig. Kempny, Marian. 1979. 'O modelu antropologii spotecznej Bronislawa Malinowskiego'. Studia socjologiczne 3(74)81—99. Kirchhof, Gustav Robert. 1874. Vorlesungen uber mathematische Physik und Mechanik. Leipzig: B. G. Teubner. 302

References Kohler, Josef. 1897. 'Zur Urgeschichte der Ehe: Totemismus, Gruppenehe, Mutterrecht'. Zeitschrift fur vergleichende Rechtswissenschaft 12. Stuttgart. Kovalevskii [Kowalewski], Maksim Maksimovich. 1891. Modern Customs and Ancient Laws in Russia; being the Ilchester Lectures for 1889-90. London: D. Nutt. Krzyzanowski, J. 1959. 'A postscript to "Bronislaw Malinowski, An Intellectual Profile'". The Polish Review 4(1-2) :156-8. Kubica, Grazyna. 1986. 'Bronislaw Malinowski's years in Poland'. Journal of the Anthropological Society of Oxford 17(2):140-54. 1988. 'Malinowski's years in Poland'. In Roy Ellen et al. eds. Malinowski Between Two Worlds. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Kubica-Klyszcz, Grazyna. 1982. 'Bronislaw Malinowski - skic biograficzny'. Lud 66:61-100. 1985. 'Listy Bronislawa Malinowskiego'. In M. Flis and Paluch, pp. 253-300. Kuper, Hilda. 1978. Sobhuza II: Ngwenyama and King of Swaziland. London: Duckworth. Lafitau, Joseph Frangois. 1724. Moeurs des Sauvages Ameriquains, comparees aux moeurs des premiers temps. 2 vols. Paris: Saugrain l'aine. Lang, Andrew. 1907. The Secret of the Totem'. In Anthropological Essays presented to E. B. Tylor. Ed. W. H. R. Rivers, R. R. Marett and N. N. Thomas. Oxford: The Clarendon Press. 1908. 'Endogamy'. Revue des Etudes Ethnographiques et Sociologiques 2:65-78. Lange, Friedrich Albert (1828-1875). 1907 [1866]. Geschichte des Materialismus und Kritik einer Bedeutung in der Gegenwart. Leipzig: Kroner. [English trans., History of Materialism, 1923.] Le Play, Pierre Guillaume Frederic. 1895. Vorganisation de la famille selon le vrai modele signal par Yhistoire de toutes les races et de tous les temps, 4th edition, Tours et Paris: A. Mame et fils. 1875. Les Ouvriers Europeens. Paris: Imprimerie imperiale. Leach, Edmund. 1957. 'The Epistemological Background to Malinowski's Empiricism'. In Man and Culture. Ed. Raymond Firth. London: Routledge and Kegan Paul, pp. 119-37. 1966. 'On the founding fathers'. Current Anthropology 7:560-7. Leist, Burkard Wilhelm. 1889. Alt-arischesjus gentium. Jena: G. Fischer. 1884. Graeco-italische Rechtsgeschichte. Jena: G. Fischer. Leonardi, Freiherr von. 1910. Einfiihrung. In Strehlow, Die Aranda und Loritja-Stdmme in Zentral-Australien. Vol. 3. Letourneau, Charles Jean Marie. 1888. Uevolution du manage et de la famille. Paris: A. Delahaye et E. Lecrosnier. [Translation: The 303

References Evolution of Marriage and of the Family. New York: C. Scribner's Sons, 1891.] Levi-Strauss, Claude. 1962. The Savage Mind. Chicago: The University of Chicago Press. Levy-Bruhl, Lucien. 1910. Les fonctions mentales dans les societes inferieures. Paris, F. Alcan, 1910. [Translation: How Natives Think. Allen and Unwin, 1926.] Lippert, Julius. 1884. Die Geschichte der Familie. Stuttgart: F. Enke. Lowie, Robert. 1947. 'Letters from Ernst Mach to Robert Lowie'. Isis 37:65-8. Lubbock, Sir John (Lord Avebury). 1872. 'On the development of relationships'. Journal of the Anthropological Institute (London) 1:1-29. 1912 [1870]. The Origin of Civilisation and Vrimitive Condition of Man. 7th edn. London, New York: Longmans, Green & Co. Mach, Ernst. 1896. 'Die Oekonomie der Wissenschaft'. In Vrincipien der Wdrmelehre. Leipzig: J. A. Barth. 1896. Die Trincipien der Wdrmelehre [Principles of the Theory of Heat]. Leipzig: J. A. Barth. 1882. 'Die oekonomische Natur der physikalischen Forschung', lecture presented to the anniversary meeting of the Imperial Academy of Sciences at Vienna, May 23, 1882. [Originally published in TopuldrWissenschaftliche Vorlesungen. Leipzig, 1896. Published in English as 'The economical nature of physical inquiry'. Popular Scientific Lectures. Trans. Thomas J. McCormack. Chicago: The Open Court Publ. Co.] 1883. Die Mechanik in ihrer Entwicklung historisch-kritisch dargestellt [Historical-critical Approach to the Development of Mechanics]. Leipzig, 1883. [Translation: The Science of Mechanics. Chicago: Open Court Publ. Co., 1893.] 1898a. 'On transformation and adaptation in scientific thought'. In Popular Scientific Lectures. Chicago: Open Court Publ. Co. 1898b. Popular Scientific Lectures. Trans. Thomas J. McCormack. Chicago: Open Court Publ. Co. 1909 [1872]. Die Geschichte und die Wurzel Satzes von der Erhaltung der Arbeit. Prague. 2nd edition, Leipzig, 1909. [History and Root of the Principle of the Conservation of Energy. Trans. Thomas J. McCormack. Chicago: Open Court Publ. Co., 1911.] Maine, Henry Sumner. 1861. Ancient Law. London: J. Murray. Malinowski, Bronislaw. 1910. Review of J. Matthew, 'Two Representative Tribes of Queensland'. Man 10:139-40. 1911-13. 'Totemizm i egzogamia (Z powodu ksiazki J. G. Frazera, D.C.L. L.L.D., F.B.A.: Totemism and Exogamy. 4 volumes, London 1910) Czesc I, Lud 17:31-56; czesc II, 18:14-57; czesc III, 19:153-71. 304

References 1912a. The economic aspect of the Intichiuma ceremonies'. In Festskrift tillegnad Edward Westermarck i anleding av hans femtiorsdag den 20 November 1912. Helsingfors: Simelli, pp. 81-108. 1912b. Tribal male associations of the Australian aborigines'. Bulletin International de l'Academie des Science de Cracovie. Classe d'Histoire et de Philosophic nos. 4-6: 56-63. 1913a. The Family among the Australian Aborigines: A Sociological Study. London: University of London Press. [Reprinted with an introduction by J. A. Barnes. New York: Schocken Books, 1963.] 1913b. Review of E. Durkheim, 'Les formes elementaires de la vie religieuse'. Folklore 24:525-31. 1913-14. 'Sociologie der Familie'. Die Geisteswissenschaften 32:883-6, 33:911-14 and 39:1080-2. 1914. 'A fundamental problem of religious sociology' [summary of a lecture given at the University of Sydney]. Reports of the Eightyfourth meeting of the British Association for the Advancement of Science, Transaction of Section H, in Australia. London, pp. 534-5. 1915. Wierzenia pierwotne i formy ustroju spolecznego. Voglqd na geneze religii ze szczegolnym uwzglednieniem totemizmu. Krakow: Akademia Umieje.tnosci. 1915. The natives of Mailu: preliminary results of the Robert Mond research work in British New Guinea'. Transactions and Proceedings of the Royal Society of South Australia 39:494-706. [Reprinted with an introduction by Michael Young in Malinowski among the Magi. London: Routledge, 1988.] 1916. 'Baloma: the spirits of the dead in the Trobriand Islands', The Journal of the Royal Anthropological Institute of Great Britain and Ireland 46:353-430. [Reprinted in Magic, Science and Religion, 1948.] 1922. Argonauts of the Western Pacific: An Account of Native Enterprise and Adventure in the Archipelagoes of Melanesian New Guinea. With a Preface by Sir J. G. Frazer. London: Routledge. 1923. The problem of meaning in primitive languages'. In The Meaning of Meaning. Ed. C. K. Ogden and I. A. Richards. London: Kegan Paul, supplement 1,451-510. [Reprinted in 1948.] 1925. 'Magic, science and religion'. In Science, Religion and Reality. Ed. J. Needham. New York: Macmillan, pp. 19-84. 1926a. Myth in Primitive Psychology. London: Kegan Paul. New York: W. W. Norton Company. 1926b. Crime and Custom in Savage Society. London: Kegan Paul, New York: Norton. 1926. 'Anthropology'. Encyclopaedia Britannica. 13th edition, Supplement 1, pp. 131^10. 1927. Sex and Repression in Savage Society. London: Kegan Paul. 305

References 1929a. 'Practical anthropology'. Africa 2(l):22-38. 1929b. The Sexual Life of Savages in Northwestern Melanesia: An Ethnographic Account of Courtship, Marriage and Family Life Among the Natives of the Trobriand Islands, British New Guinea. With a Preface by Havelock Ellis. London: Routledge. 1935. Coral Gardens and Their Magic: A Study of the Methods of Tilling the Soil and of Agricultural Rites in the Trobriand Islands. Vol. 1: The Description of Gardening; Vol. 2: The Language of Magic and Gardening. London: Allen and Unwin. 1936. The Foundation of Faith and Morals. An Anthropological Analysis of Primitive Beliefs and Conduct with Special Reference to the Fundamental Problems of Religion and Ethics. Oxford: Oxford University Press. 1937. 'Culture as a determinant of behaviour'. Scientific Monthly 43:440-9. [Reprinted in Factors Determining Human Behaviour. By E. D. Adrian and others. Cambridge, Mass: Harvard University Press, pp. 133-68.] 1944a. A Scientific Theory of Culture and Other Essays. With a Preface by Huntington Cairns. Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press. 1944b. Freedom and Civilization. New York: Roy Publishers. 1944c. 'Sir James George Frazer: A Biographical Appreciation'. In A Scientific Theory of Culture and Other Essays. Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press. 1945. The Dynamics of Culture Change: An Inquiry into Race Relations in Africa. Edited by P. M. Kaberry. New Haven: Yale University Press. 1948. Magic, Science and Religion, and Other Essays. With an introduction by Robert Redfield. New York: The Free Press. [Reprinted in 1954 without the war essay.] 1962a. Sex, Culture and Myth. New York: Harcourt, Brace and World. 1962b. 'Myth as a dramatic development of dogma'. In B. Malinowski, Sex, Culture and Myth. New York: Harcourt, Brace and World. 1967. A Diary in the Strict Sense of the Term. Stanford: Stanford University Press. [Reprinted with a new introduction by R. Firth in 1988.] 198Q-. Dziela (Works). Warszawa: Panstwowe Polskie Wydawnictwo Naukowe. Vol. I—XIII [continuing]. 1988. Malinowski among the Magi. Ed. with an introduction by Michael Young. London: Routledge. Malinowski, Bronislaw and Julio de la Fuente. 1982. Malinowski in Mexico. The Economics of a Mexican Market System. Ed. and with an introduction by Susan Drucker-Brown. London: Routledge and Kegan Paul. 306

References Manicas, Peter. 1987. A Historical and Philosophy of the Social Sciences. Oxford: Basil Blackwell. Martinek, Edward C. 1981. 'Wste,p'. In S. I. Witkiewicz. Listy do Bronistawa Malinowskiego, pp. 5-45. Warszawa: Paristwowy Instytut Wydawniczy. Matthews, R. H. 1896. 'Australian class systems'. American Anthropologist 9:411-16. 1898. The Victorian aborigines: their initiation, ceremonies and divisional systems'. American Anthropologist 11:325-43. 1905. Ethnological Notes on the Aboriginal Tribes of New South Wales and Victoria. Sydney. McLennan, J. F. 1886. Studies in Ancient History: Comprising a Reprint of Primitive Marriage. London and New York: Macmillan. 1869. 'The worship of animals and plants'. Fortnightly Review 6:407— 27, 562-84. 1877. 'Exogamy and endogamy'. Fortnightly Review 27:884-95. 1877. 'The Levirate and Polyandry'. Fortnightly Review. 27:694-707. Micinska, Anna. 1978 [1972]. 'Wst§p'. In S. I. Witkiewicz. '622 upadki Bunga czyli demoniczna kobieta'. Dzieta wybrane, vol. 1:7-44. Warszawa: Paristwowy Instytut Wydawniczy. Morgan, Lewis Henry. 1871. Systems of Consanguinity and Affinity of the Human Family (Smithsonian Contributions to Knowledge, 17). Washington: Smithsonian Institute. 1877. Ancient Society, or, Researches in the Lines of Human Progress from Savagery, through Barbarism to Civilization. New York: H. Holt & Company. 1881. Houses and House-Life of the American Aborigines, (Contributions to North American Ethnology, 4). Washington: Government Printer. Miiller-Lyer, Franz C. 1910-18. Entwicklungsstufen der Menschheit. 6 volumes. Munich: Lehmann (1910-12). Munich: Langen (1913, 1918). 1912. Die Familie. Munich: J. F. Lehmann [vol. 4 of Entwicklungsstufen der Menschheit]. National League for the Protection of the Family. 1900. Reports of the National Divorce League. National League for the Protection of the Family. Nietzsche, Friedrich. 1967 [1901]. The Will to Tower [Der Wille zur Macht]. Trans. Walter Kaufmann and R. G. Hollindale. New York: Random House. 1968 [1887], 'Attempt at self-criticism', A preface to the second edition of Birth of Tragedy. In Walter Kaufmann, ed., The Essential Nietzsche. 1968 [1872]. The Birth of Tragedy [Die Geburt der Tragodie aus dem 307

References Geiste der Musik]. Trans. Walter Kaufmann. In Basic Writings of Nietzsche. New York: The Modern Library. 1968 [1886]. Beyond Good and Evil [Jenseits von Gut und Bose]. Trans. Walter Kaufmann. In Basic Writings of Nietzsche. New York: The Modern Library. 1968 [1887]. The Genealogy of Morals [Zur Genealogie der Moral]. In W. Kaufmann, ed. Basic Writings of Nietzsche. New York: Modern Library. 1983 [1873]. 'David Strauss, the confessor and the writer'. In Untimely Meditations. Trans. R. J. Hollingdale. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. O'Brien, Connor Cruise. 1972. 'Nietzsche and the Machiavellian schism'. In The Suspecting Glance [The T. S. Elliot Lectures]. London: Faber and Faber. Ol'derogge, D. A. and Potekhin, I. I., eds. 1953 [1951]. Anglo-americkd etnografie ve sluzbach imperialismu [Anglo-American Ethnography in the Service of Imperialism]. Prague: Nakladatelstvi Ceskoslovenske akademie ved. Paluch, Andrzej. 1976. Potrzeby ludzkie i zmiana kulturowa w funkcionalizmie Malinowskiego. Zeszyty naukowe Uniwersytetu Jagiellonskiego, Trace etnograticzne 9:19-29. 1981a. Malinowski. Warszawa: Wiedza Powszechna. 1981b. 'The Polish background to Malinowski's work'. Man 16:278. Parker, Mrs K. Langloh. 1905. The Euahlayi Tribe. London. Paszkowski, L. 1972. 'Malinowski i Witkacy w Australii'. Wiadomosci 43^1:5. Pearson, Karl. 1900. The Grammar of Science. London: Blackwells. Petzoldt, Joseph. 1890. Maxima, Minima und Oekonomie. Vierteljahrschrift fur wissenschaftliche Vhilosophie 14:206-39, 354-66, 417-42. Leipzig: Reisland. 1900, 1904. Einfiihrung in die Vhilosophie der reinen Erfahrung [Introduction to the Philosophy of Pure Experience]. 2 volumes. Leipzig: B. G. Teubner. Planck, Max. 1909. Die Einheit des physikalischen Weltbildes. Leipzig: Hirzel. Posada, Adolfo. 1899. Theories modernes sur les origines de la famille [Modern Theories of the Origin of the Family]. Trans, from the Spanish by Frantz de Zeltner. Paris: V. Giard et E. Briere. Post, Albert Hermann. 1875. Die Geschlechtsgenossenschaft der Urzeit und die Entstehung der Ehe. Oldenburg: Schulze. 1890. Studien zur Entwicklungsgeschichte des Familienrechts. Ein Beitrag zu einer allgemeinen vergleichenden Rechtswissenschaft auf ethnologischer Basis. Oldenburg & Leipzig: Schulzesche Hof-Buchhandlung. 308

References Radcliffe-Brown, Alfred Reginald. 1935. 'On the concept of function in the social sciences'. American Anthropologist 37:394-402. Rapport, Nigel. 1990. 'Surely everything has already been said about Malinowski's diary!' Anthropology Today 6(l):5-9. Reinach, Salomon. 1912 [1908]. 'Introduction'. In Cults, Myths and Religions. Reitzenstein, Ferdinand Freiherr von. 1909. 'Der Kausalzusammenhang zwischen Geschlechtsverkehr und Empfangnis in Glaube und Brauch der Natur- und Kulturvolker'. Zeitschrift fur Ethnologie 41:64483. Riehl, Wilhelm Heinrich. 1885 [1861]. Die Familie. Stuttgart: J. G. Cotta. Rivers, W. H. R. 1914. Kinship and Social Organization. London: Constable. 1909. 'Totemism in Polynesia and Melanesia'. Journal of the Royal Anthropological Institute 39:156-808. Roth, Walter Edmund. 1897. Ethnological Studies Among the NorthWest-Central Queensland Aborigines. Brisbane: Government Printer. 1909. North Queensland Ethnography. Brisbane [1901-1909]. Schapera, Isaac. 1989. 'A. R. Brown to Radcliffe-Brown'. Anthropology Today 5(5): 10-11. Schmidt, P. W. 1908. 'Die Stellung der Aranda unter den australischen Stammen'. Zeitschrift fur Ethnologie 40:886-901. Schrader, O. 1883. Sprachvergleichung und Urgeschichte. Jena: Hermann Costenoble. Schultze, Louis. 1891. 'The Aborigines of the upper and middle Finke River: their habits and customs. Transactions and Vroceedings and Report of the Royal Society of South Australia (Adelaide) 14. Schumpeter, Joseph. 1954. History of Economic Analysis. New York: Oxford University Press. Scruton, Roger. 1982. Kant. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Seligman, Charles Gabriel. 1910. The Melanesians of British New Guinea. Cambridge: The University Press. Skalnik, Peter. 1982. 'Bronislaw Malinowski (1884-1942). Een argonaut uit Krakow'. In Beroep antropoloog. Vreemde volken, visies en vooroordelen. Ed. G. Banck and B. van Heijningen. AmsterdamBrussels: Intermediair. 1986. 'Malinowski on war, nationalism and the state'. Paper presented to Malinowski Commemorative Congress, Yale University, 1-2 April 1986. Published in Ideen zu einer Integralen Anthropologie. S. Bonk, ed. Munich: BB Verlag, 1991, pp. 545-69. Smith, W. Robertson. 1885. Kinship and Marriage in Early Arabia. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. 1956 [1889]. Religion of the Semites. New York: Meridian Books. 309

References Spencer, W. Baldwin. 1911. 'Recent discoveries among the natives living between Roper River and Port Darwin'. Atheneum, Nov. 4, p. 562. Spencer, W. Baldwin and F. J. Gillen. 1895. The Native Tribes of Central Australia. London: Macmillan. 1904. The Northern Tribes of Central Australia. London: Macmillan. Spencer, Herbert. 1877. 'A rejoinder to Mr. McLennan'. Fortnightly Review 27:895-902. 1877. The evolution of the family'. Popular Science Monthly (New York) 11:129-42, 257-71. Sredniawa. 1981. The anthropologist as a young physicist: Bronislaw Malinowski's apprenticeship'. Isis 72:613-20. Starke, Carl Nicolai. 1889 [1888]. The Primitive Family. New York. Steinthal, Heymann [Chaim]. 1881. Abriss der Sprachwissenschaft [Outline of Linguistics]. Berlin: F. Dummlers Verlagsbuchhandelaars, Harrwitz und Grossmann. Stern, J. P. 1983. 'Introduction' to Nietzsche's Untimely Meditations. Trans. R. J. Hollingdale. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Stocking, George. 1968. Race, Culture and Evolution: Essays in the History of Anthropology. Chicago: The University of Chicago Press. 1983. The ethnographer's magic: fieldwork in British anthropology from Tylor to Malinowski'. In G. Stocking, ed. [History of Anthropology 1]. 1986. 'Anthropology and the science of the irrational: Malinowski's encounter with Freudian psychoanalysis'. In G. Stocking, ed. Malinowski, Rivers, Benedict and Others [History of Anthropology 4]. Madison, Wisconsin: University of Wisconsin Press, pp. 13^49. 1987. Victorian Anthropology. New York. Straszewski, M. 1903 [1901]. Co to jest filozofia? [What is Philosophy?]. Warzawa: Drukarnia J. Sikorskiego. Strathern, Marilyn. 1987. 'Out of context: the persuasive fictions of anthropology'. Current Anthropology 28(3) :251—81. Strehlow, Carl. 1907. Die Aranda und Loritja-Stdmme in Zentral Australien, (Veroffentlichungen aus dem Stadtischen VolkerMuseum, 5 volumes: 1907-1920). Frankfurt am Main: J. Baer and Co. Strenski, Ivan. 1982. 'Malinowski: second positivism, second romanticism'. Man 17(4):766-71. Strong, Tracy B. 1988. Friedrich Nietzsche. Berkeley: University of California Press. Swiderski, Richard M. 1984. 'Malinowski's tragic ethnography'. Anthropology and Humanism Quarterly 9(4) :22-5. Symmons-Symonolewicz, Konstantin. 1958. 'Bronislaw Malinowski: an intellectual profile'. The Polish Review 3(4):55-76. 1959. 'Bronislaw Malinowski: formative influences and theoretical evolution'. The Polish Review 4(4):17^5. 310

References 1960a. 'Bronislaw Malinowski: individuality as a theorist'. The Polish Review 5(1) :53-<55. 1960b. The origin of Malinowski's theory of magic'. The Polish Review 5(4):36-44. 1967. 'Malinowski in the light of his diary' (Review of B. Malinowski: The diary in the strict sense of the word'). The Polish Review 12(3):67-71. 1982. The ethnographer and his savages. An intellectual history of Malinowski's diary'. The Polish Review 27(1-2) :92-8. Sztompka, Piotr. 1988. 'From Malinowski to Merton: a case study in the transmission of ideas'. In R. Ellen et ah, eds. Malinowski Between Two Worlds. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Thornton, Robert. 1985. '"Imagine yourself set down": Mach, Conrad, Frazer, Malinowski and the role of imagination in ethnography'. Anthropology Today 1 (5) :7-14. 1988. 'If libraries could read themselves'. Anthropology Today 4(2):20-2. Thurnwald, Richard. 1913. Ethno-psychologische Studien an Sudseevolkern auf dem Bismarck-Archipel und den Solomon-Inseln. Zeitschrift fur angewandte Psychologie und psychologische Sammelforschung. Beiheft 6. Leipzig: Barth. Todd, Arthur James. 1913. The Primitive Family as an Educational Agency. New York: G. P. Putnam's Sons. Toutain, J. 1907. 'L'histoire des religions et le totemisme a propos d'un livre recent'. Revue de VHistoire des Religions 57:333-54. Truszkowski, Witold. 1986. 'Jak Bronislaw Malinowski zostal ocalony dla nauki'. Etnografia Polska 30(l):43-9. Tylor, Edward B. 1888. 'On a method of investigating the development of institutions, applied to laws of marriage and descent'. Journal of the Royal Anthropological Institute 18:245-72. van Gennep, Arnold. 1906. Mythes et legendes d'Australie; etudes d'ethnographie et de sociologie. Paris: E. Guilmoto. 1911. 'Que'est-ce que le totemisme?' Folklore 68:93-104. 1908. Totemisme et methode comparative'. Revue de VHistoire des Religions 58:34-76. Waligorski, Andrzej. 1967. 'Postowie do przekladu polskiego'. Postscript to the Polish translation of Argonauci Zachodniego Pacyfiku. Repr. Dzieta. Vol. 3, 1981, Warszawa: PWN. 1973. Antropologiczna koncepcja czlowieka. Warszawa: Panstwowe Wydawnictwo Naukowe. Westermarck, Edvard. 1891. The History of Human Marriage. London: Macmillan. 1914. Marriage Ceremonies in Morocco. London: Macmillan. Wheeler, G. C. 1910. The Tribe and Inter-Tribal Relations in Australia. London. 311

References Wilken, G. A. 1884. Das Matriarchat bei den alten Arabern [German translation from the original Dutch]. Leipzig. Witkiewicz, Stanislaw. 1969. Listy do syna. Warszawa: Paristwowy Instytut Wydawniczy. Witkiewicz, Stanislaw Ignacy (alias Witkacy). 1971. Listy do Heleny Czerwijowskiej. Tworczosc 9:25-47. 1978 [1972]. 622 upadki Bunga czyli Demoniczna kobieta. (622 Downfalls ofBungo, Or a Demonic woman). In Dzieia Wybrane, vol. 1:45— 473. Warszawa: Panstwowy Instytut Wydawniczy. [1909-11, revised in 1920 but not published until 1972]. 1981. Listy do Bronistawa Malinowskiego. Warszawa: Panstwowy Instytut Wydawniczy. Wright, Commissioner Carroll Davidson. 1889. Marriage and Divorce in the United States, 1867-1886, First Special Report of the Commission of Labor. Washington: Government Printer. Wundt, Wilhelm. 1912. Elemente der Volkerpsychologie. Leipzig. [Elements of Folk Psychology. Transl. by E. L. Schaub. London, 1916.] Young, Michael W. 1984. 'An intensive study of a restricted area, or, Why did Malinowski go to the Trobriand Islands?' Oceania 55:1-26. 1988. 'Introduction'. In Malinowski among the Magi: 'The Natives of Mailu'. London: Routledge. Zulawski, Jerzy. 1978. Z domu. Warszawa: Panstwowy Instytut Wydawniczy.

312

INDEX

A-Kamba tribe, 173 adaptation, 106-10 and religion, 198 clan totemism to 'a type of belief, 240 psychic, in relation to terror, 81-3 Admiralty Islands, 155 aesthetic justification, 23, 86 aesthetic judgement, 78-9 defined, 69 in tragedy, horror, 85 Africa, 8, 38, 126, 230 southern, 169, 175 totemism in, 169, 173 east central, 173 age, 236 age grades, 204, 205 Australia, 203 Alaska, 174, 180 alatunja ('headman', in Australia), 132, 143, 210-19 alcheringa, 129-52, 167, 212 ancestors, 139 as justification of bloody rites, 133 role in increasing totemic species, 133 traditions linked to present organization, 130 Algonquin tribe, 183 America continental, 173 North, 173, 174, 178, 182, 230, 234 South, 126, 173 totemism in, 173-83 ancestors, 234 animal and plant, 129, 132 Australian, 129 Ancient Law (by H. S. Maine), 250 Aneri island, 155 Angoni tribe, 173 animal totems, 232

animism, 138, 198 anthropomorphism, 109, 237 in philosophy, 35-6 in religion, 161 Anula tribe, 217 Apache, 181 Apollo-Dionysus dichotomy, 19-23, 56, 72-4, 78 defined, 73 falsity of, 75 physiological foundation of, 75 see also 'dualism' apperception (in psychology), 31, 96-102, 109 apprehension, 100 and thought, 88 myth as form of, 72 of different reality through myth, 88 Aranda totemism, 215 archaeology, 229 Argonauts of the Western Pacific (by Malinowski), x, 33, 41 Aristotle, 250 Arizona, 181 art, 73, 76, 81, 230 and Australian totemism, 132 and magic, 159 and mimesis, 24, 78, 87 and science, 34 and tragedy, 79 Apollonian and Dionysian, 69, 74 Darwin's attempt to derive it from biology, 78 defined, 73 ethnological development of, 77 Frazer on evolution of, 189 function of, 80, 155, 180 'genetically related to myth and metaphysics', 20, 73 plastic, 73: in totemism, 132 313

Index Arunta tribe (Australia), 42, 55, 128-38, 188, 207-23 Aryan peoples, 250 association of ideas (in Herbartian psychology), 98 attitude, 80, 161, 163, 215 'of the whiteman to his less civilized, coloured fellow men', 112 and totemism, 161 as principle in myth, magic and totemism, 69, 80, 86, 120, 161, 225, 232 as source of human values, 69, 235 scientific, 27 to environment, and totemism, 19, 146, 235, 238 to 'metaphysical horror' and tragedy, 79-85 Australia, 8-9, 44, 63, 178, 188, 197, 202-5, 230-4 central tribes, 128, 141, 147, 157, 233-44 material culture, 137 northeastern tribes, 135 primitiveness of, 137-8 southeastern tribes, 134 Avebury Lord, 255 Avenarius, R. H. L., ix, 13, 27-39, 90-103, 108-15 his theory of mind, 32 bachelors' camp (Australian), 203, 205 Bachofen, J. J., 249, 250, 251, 252, 255, 261 criticism of, 258 Baganda, 171-2 Banks Islanders, 150-2, 190, 195-6 Bantu peoples, 169, 171, 173, 234 Bastian, A., 19 Batt people, 168 Bebel, A., 257, 266 Bechuans (i.e. Batswana), 170 belief, 85, 122, 153, 161, 164, 172, 173, 193, 207, 240 and science, 118 and totemism, 199, 235 as real as 'material necessity', 207 definition of, 118 its role in Frazer's theory of religion, 162 role in social functions, 182 Bernhoft, F., 251, 256

Bible, The, as source of ideas about the family, 249 Binbinga tribe, 217 biology, 78, 108, 139, 173, 185, 186, 191 and theory of marriage, 259 no basis for totemism in, 191 Birth of Tragedy (F. Nietzsche), 3-5, 16-23, 36, 48-50 a 'form of myth', 17, 69 Bismarck Archipelago, 154, 244 bison, 174, 177 Black Shoulders clan (Omaha tribe), 175 body, the and art, 76-8 image of in Greek tragedy, 87 in magic, 121 Malinowski's approach to, 68 use in totemism, 159 British Columbia, 174, 180, 181 Biicher, K., ix, 4, 10, 52, 53, 56, 61, 225, 227 Bystron, Jan, 10 Calabria, 161 Calderon de la Barca, P., 81 California, 174 Cambridge ethnologists, 146 Canary Islands, 14 cannibalism, 152, 168 catalepsy, 76 causality, 69, 94, 215 and free will, 38, 84 and procreation, 190 and totemism, 60, 185, 239 and univocal determinism, 94-5, 101, 109 Frazer's causal theories rejected, 193 in Avenarius, 98 in Schopenhauer's philosophy, 68 in totemism, 186 change, social, 82 as 'conscious social reform', 139, 185, 186 contemporary social, 267 not conscious, 185 Malinowski's theory of, 35, 43, 56 Frazer's erroneous views of, 185 'what empiricism measures', 44 chemistry, 224 as 'end of metaphysics', 89 used as analogy for tragedy, 83 314

Index childhood, Malinowski's and childish faith, 72 experience of horror, 82 Christianity, 22, 26, 72, 162 churingas, 131-3, 212 Chwistek, Leon, 12 circumcision, 133, 202, 207 clans, 146, 169, 176-8, 206, 230, 240; see also 'totems', 'totemism' as territorial unit, 234 common mythical ancestor, 125 economic function of, 230-5 legal functions, 234 morphology of, 234 unity of, 131, 189, 235 classes, marriage, 131-4 Codrington, Bishop R. H., 153 cognition 67, 104, 105, 118, 140 aesthetic, 78 in metaphysics, 61 theory of, 90 coitus, 135 collective labour, 222 communication, 107 communism primitive (in E. Durkheim, R. H. Rivers), 35 Malinowski's attitude towards, 40 community, 206 hypotheses of primitive, 249 in Aristotle, 250 Comte, A., 19, 34 conception (in reproduction), supernatural, 135, 142, 151, 153 concepts and myth, 70 religious doctrine as reservoir of, 72 conscience, a recent phenomenon, 165 consciousness, 73, 98, 100, 105, 111, 114 Coral Gardens and Their Magic, 3, 24, 38, 41, 42, 45, 47, 57 Cornelius, H., 36, 90, 114 corpus inscriptionum, 24 Cracow, 9, 11 the city, 11 Republic of, 11 University of, 61 Crawley, A. E., 243, 261 creativity and myth, 87 as escape from 'horror of life', 83 tragedy as motive for, 81 normality, criterion for, 111

cultural evolution, 162 cultural wholes, 38, 197 culture, 5, 21, 27, 36, 38, 81, 85, 127, 137, 145, 164, 230 and comparison, 136, 161 and society, 164 as condition for tragic art, 81 as context of tragedy, 85 continuity of, 23 levels of 70, 11, 85, 128, 138, 161, 164, 165, 171, 178, 197, 198, 202, 205, 222, 224 material, 144 myth in, 23 origins of, 189 Slavic folk culture, 11 Cunow, H., 256 Dakota, 174, 176, 179, 183 dance, IS, 76, 120, 133, 147, 177, 180, 230 as representation of myth, 181 today not part of religion and art, 11

Dargun, L., 61, 250, 257, 258 Darwin, C , 29, 54, 106, 108, 109, 259 Darwinism, 108 death, 82, 84, 164, 168, 176 attitude towards, in tragedy, 80 beliefs about, 70, 134, 154 in primitive belief, 236 Delbriick, B., 251 desire, 235 and myth, 85 and totemism, 139, 242 as source of religion, 164 determinism and free will, 38 Dewey, J., 29 Dieri tribe, 134, 139, 216, 221, 222 differentiation, social, 240 age as principle of, 205 in totemism, 239 division of consumption, 235 division of labour, 53 divorce, 266, 267 dogma, 22, 46, 70, 165, 166 and myth, 20, 71, 153 as rationalism of faith, 85 in totemism, 153, 158 replaces myth in advanced societies, 70 Domars (Damara?), 169 Dravidian peoples, 169, 230 315

Index dualism, philosophical, 67 Malinowski's rejection of sacred/ profane dichotomy, 57-8, 243-5 Malinowski's rejection of Apollo-Dionysus dichotomy, 72 Dubois-Reymond, E. H., 105 dugong clan, 147, 149 Duke of York Island, 154 Durkheim, E., ix, 8, 35, 41, 43, 47, 53-9, 137, 168, 185, 198, 229, 243, 244, 257 evolutionism in, Malinowski's criticism, 45, 59 functionalism in, 59 his definition of religion, 47 Malinowski's refutation of sacred/ profane dichotomy, 243-5

not sufficient, 37, 78, 195 validity of, 115 emu ceremony, 212 Engels, F., 257 English anthropological school, 125 epic poetry, 75 ethics, 47, 85, 118, 165, 168, 171 and myth, 70 and totemism, 153, 158 in Schopenhauer, 68 lack of, in Greek myth, 87 ethnology, 127 aim of, 224 as a science, 242 basic concepts lacking, 229 Durkheim's use of Frazer's, 168 in family studies, 249 observer error in, 162 theory compared to physics, 224 eugenics, 64, 266 Euler, L., 103 events mythical, protected from critical thought, 86 ordered by myth, 119 past, as justification of dogma, 71 transformed by myth, 86 evil, 20, 82, 85, 129, 139, 154 cause of, in Schopenhauer, 19, 69 evolution, 106, 186, 199, 204, 222 economic see 'economic evolution' of Australian tribes, 136, 137, 204 of economic labour, 226 of totemism, 198 evolutionist theory, 127, 136, 140, 205, 226, 263 in ethnology, 204 in relation to economy, 227 in relation to the family, 257 exogamy, 47, 12^6, 139-^4, 188, 201, 234, 253 biological, 186 classes, 131-2 origins of, 185

economic evolution, 51-6, 221-7 and the family, 261 economy, 2, 38, 93-114 and religion, 226, 237 and magic and ritual, 45, 121, 143, 205, 209, 220 and theory of function, 32, 103 and totemism, 45, 52, 139, 143, 175, 188, 218 defined, 91, 112, 224-5 and labour, 224-5 the concept of, in physics, 103, 112 economy of thinking (economy of thought, 'mind'), 27, 31-3, 38, 90-115 denned, 91 history of idea, 89-91 ecstacy, 73, 74 education and totemism, 224, 227 in Aboriginal society, 207 Efate Island, 151 ego, the, 68 Ellis, Havelock, 51 emotion, 19, 46, 72, 85, 84-6, 237 and metaphysics, 68, 96, 161 and myth, 70, 86 and religion, 236 as factor in Schopenhauer's metaphysics, 67 in totemism, 160-1, 242 empiricism, 19-30, 33-7, 67, 75, 115, 166 and magic, 119 as applied to art, 24

facts Frazer's use of, 194 mind's adaptation to, 106, 110, 112 relative to culture, 166 'theory creates', 35, 167 transformed by myth, 86 see also methods 316

Index faith, 70 and myth, 70, 85 inimical to thought, 85 family, 131, 137, 142, 156, 201, 230, 234, 250 and functionalism, 61, 234 Aryan, 250 as elementary form of social life, 45, 142, 258 basic sociology of, 61-4, 247-8, 255-65 patriarchal monogamous, 249 position of women in, 266 scientific study lacking, 263 fatalism, in Greek myth, 85, 87 Fechner, G., 103 fieldwork, 2 Fison, L., 42, 256 Florida island, 154 food significance of in primitive belief, 233-6 taboo, 152, 168, 170, 202, 203, 236, 238 Frazer, J. G., ix, 2-5, 7-9, 28, 35, 38, 45, 53, 60-2, 117, 123-14, 150-62, 168-74, 182-90, 192, 199, 209, 223, 227, 229, 232, 256 and evolutionism, 5, 43 comparative approach, 27 definition of religion unsatisfactory, 118 first theory of totemism, 189 his 'intellectualism', 39, 41, 43, 57 Malinowski's rejection of biological conjecture in, 191 Malinowski's rejection of theory of totemism, 189 Malinowski's use of his data, 43 methodological criticism of, 5, 42-9, 117-27, 135-49, 159, 161-7, 181-99; see also methods second theory of totemism, 189, 194 third theory of totemism, 195 free will see 'causality' Freud, S., 25-6, 30, 35, 51 Friedrichs, K., 256 function, 31, 93-5, 103-9, 113, 126, 131, 139, 145, 226, 235 in Nietzsche, 6, 48 Malinowski's development of the idea of, 31-2 mathematical, 32, 92, 94 of art, 79, 80

of beliefs, 145, 236 of cultural wholes, 6 of instinct in tragedy, 83 of myth, 22, 71 psychological, 18, 97 social, 86, 141-8, 157, 169, 172, 174, 175, 179, 181, 196, 203-10, 234, 241, 266 versus origin, 50 Functionalism, ix, 17, 20, 26, 29, 37, 52-60, 260 earliest example of, 49 development of, 20, 61 its roots in Nietzsche's thought, 6 Fustel de Coulanges, N. D., 250 future, the concept of, important in economy, 227 Galicia, 10, 11 Galton, F., 266 Gason, S., 216 gender, 2, 50, 51, 120, 203, 205, 207 and age, 201 and myth, 50 and power, 51 and totemism, 125, 240 in family, 266 in initiation ceremonies, 201-7 initiation secrets concealed from women, 132 genealogy, 59 Genealogy of Morals (Nietzsche), 16, 42,48 genetic explanation, 194, 238 Gennep, A. van, 138 gens, 250 Germany, 9 gerontocracy (Australian), 203-6 Gillen, F. J., 42, 128-39, 211-18, 244, 257 gods, 155, 156, 158 Goethe, J. W., 22, 71, 81 Golden Bough, The (J. G. Frazer), 13, 38, 40, 42, 47, 51, 52

Grammar of Science, The (K. Pearson), 44 Grassman, G., 105 Greece, Ancient image of, 22 culture of, 20, 71, 249-51 the 'myth' of Humanism, 71 tragedy, 87 Grosse, E., 261 Grote, G., 250 317

Index group marriage, 252 guardian spirits, 156, 183 gynaecocracy, 252, 253 Haddon, A. C , 146, 148, 189 Haida tribe, 181 Hamilton, W. R., 103 Hearn, W. E. 250 Hellenism, 71 Hellwald, F. A., 257 Herbart, J. F., ix, 31, 91, 96, 98-100 associationist psychology of, 38 Herens (Herero?), 169 Herero tribe, 170, 175 hero cult, 147, 148, 149 Hetarismus, 252 Hildebrand, R., 257 history, 6, 16-17, 21^6, 48-9, 119, 229, 235 ahistoricism in Malinowski's work, 16, 23, 26, 58, 239--12 alcheringa (Australia), 134, 167 and totemism, 60 contrasted with myth, 43 denned, 69 in family studies, 249 in Frazer, 43 of thermodynamics (Mach's), 28 see also method Hopi tribe, 181 horde, 130 horror, 84 Howard, G. E., 254, 262, 264, 266, 267 Howitt, A. W., 42, 138, 256 Hubert, H., 168 Humanism, role of ancient myth in, 71 Huron tribe, 179 Ibsen, H., 87 Illpirra tribe, 211 incest, 139, 185 hypothesis of disgust, 186 India, 126, 230 Indians (American), 173, 174 infanticide, 253 female, 203 initiation, 133, 167, 202, 206, 207, 208 Australian ceremonies, 132-3, 202-8 instinct, 187 of self preservation, 81-2, 236 in tragedy, 80 intichiuma ceremonies, 42-5, 55, 59, 132-4, 139, 143, 147, 149, 160, 167,

177, 178, 190, 209-27, 234, 239 a form of economic labour, 223 association with the seasons, 214 Iowa, 177 Iroquois, 178, 179 Jagiellonian University, x, 10, 11, 13, 26, 36 Malinowski's studies at, 10 James, William, 29, 34 Jevons, F. B., 197 jurisprudence, 247, 250, 256 Kaitish tribe, 211, 212, 214, 216, 222 Kanook, 180 Kansas, 177 Kant, I., 78, 105 Kautsky, K., 257 kinship, 47-50, 201-3, 206, 260 economic considerations, 260 function of, 258 nomenclatures, 254 principle of agnation, 250 Kintu, King of Baganda, 172 Kirchhof, G. R., 90, 105, 264 Kiwai district, New Guinea, 150 Kohler, J., 256, 258 Kowalewski, M. M., 257 Kraft-Ebbing, R. von, 51 Kwakiutl, 181 Lacka, Jozefa, 9 Lacki, Leopold, 9 Lafitau, J. F., 254 Lang, Andrew, 138 Lange, F. A., 105 language, 30, 37 importance in fieldwork (Malinowski), 41 linguistic development, 96 Laplace, Pierre-Simon, 94, 95 laws of nature, 93, 103 Le Play, P. G. F., 265 least effort, principle of, 91-103 for Avenarius, 113 in cognition, 100 legal norms, 166 legends totemic ancestors, 129 Leibniz, G. and monads, 68 Leipzig, 52, 61 Malinowski's father's studies at, 9 Malinowski's studies in, 14 318

Index Leist, B. W., 250, 251 Lenin, V. I., x Lessing, Gothold E., 81 Letourneau, Charles J. E., 257 Levi-Strauss, Claude 60 life crises, in primitive religion, 236 Lippert, J., 255 Lodomeria, 11 London School of Economics, 42, 63 Lubbock, Sir John, 189, 255 lyric poetry, 75

Mabuiag island, 147, 149 Mach, E., ix, 2-7, 13, 19, 26-44, 59, 91, 90, 104-14 and Frazer, 28 belief that theory creates facts, 35 contribution to defining Malinowski's research focus, 2-5 his method and 'empiricism', 7, 32-9 magic, 5, 37-42, 139, 142, 159-61, 204-24, 235, 244 and economy, 55, 121, 133, 139, 220-4, 236 and religion, 39, 46, 117, 143, 160, 161, 244 and science, 39, 40, 117-18, 160 andtotemism, 149, 159, 160 as 'practice', 5, 118, 160, 220 definition of, 117-19, 168 founded on 'desire', 119 Frazer's concept of, 38-9, 46, 159, 160 in Trobriands ethnography, 57 psychology of, 119-21 public and private, 121 social context of, 40 see also totemism Mailu, 8 Malinowski's fieldwork in, 26 Maine, H. S. 249, 250 Malinowski, Bronislaw Kaspar his birth, youth and family, 9-14 encounter with Polish rural folk culture, 11 influence of European science and philosophy on, 4-9 relationship with Witkacy, 12 university studies, 13-15 Malinowski, Lucjan, 9 Mandan tribe, 177, 178 Mara tribe, 217

Marett, R. R., 243 marriage, 137, 203, 206, 236, 248-60 and chastity, 252 and magic, 261 as principle problem of ethnology, 248 group, 249, 255-9 monogamous, 249: in higher vertebrates, 259; natural selection for, 259 pioneering sociology of, 258 marriage law, 266 Marx, K., 54 absence of mention of, by Malinowski, x, 8 materialism, 105 maternal succession, 252 mathematics Malinowski's use and study of, 13, 92 matriarchy, 248-51, 256HS0 Maupertuis, Pierre-Louis Moreau de, 103 Mauss, M., 8, 47, 168 Mawatt district, New Guinea, 149 maximum-minimum, 92-5, 101^ in relation to economy, 109 of a function (mathematical concept), 91-3, 113 McLennan, J. F., 123, 185, 249, 250, 251, 252, 253, 255, 256 criticism of, 258 mechanics, principles of, 103 Medicine Lodges (Iroquois), 179 Melanesia, 149-55, 230 metaphysics, 18-20, 28-30, 67-9, 73-5, 87 and empiricism, 89 and myth, 20-4, 51 as appropriate research question, 37, 89 as cause of social institution, 205 as questions driving Malinowski's research, 35-8 attack on, 34, 36-8, 68 dualism in, 67 emotional character of, 18, 68 Malinowski's definition of, 18 Malinowski's view of Nietzschean, 18-20 of a Darwinian biology, 37 of Cartesian dualism, 37 of purpose, 33 metapsychoses, 154

319

Index methods, 5-9 comparative, 127, 242 critical, principles of, 97 ethnographic, programmatic statement of, 224 ethnographic, 1-2, 22, 28-34, 46-50, 69, 77, 136, 140, 146, 162, 204-6, 224-9, 240-1, 248-9, 263^ historical, 23-5, 51, 56-60, 140, 186-9, 199-205, 229-42 scientific, 26-44, 72, 90, 110-13, 140, 184, 224, 264 see also Frazer, J. G., history, Mach, E., science Mexico, 8 mimesis, 24 and masks, 87 neglected by Frazer, 119 mind, 20, 96 and the body, 96 primitive, 129, 142, 164 see also economy of thinking Minnetaree tribe, 178 Mississippi basin, 174 Missouri, 174 modernism, 21, 25 and families, 267 and Malinowski, 17 Polish, 26 monism, 6, 36, 37, 114 monogamy, 251 morality, 6, 206, 258 and totemism, 165 justified by myth, 71 Morgan, H. L., 178, 185, 249, 251, 253, 254, 255, 256, 257, 261 criticism of, 258 kinship nomenclature, 254 Mota island, 151 Miiller-Lyer, F. C , 259, 261, 262, 267 music, 73, 76 Apollonian, 74, 75 Apollonian and Dionysian aspects, 75 as expression of the Will, 74 Dionysian, 75 myth, Malinowski's general theory of, 3-6, 17-24, 70-3, 85-7, 118-19, 125, 167, 181, 207 and art, 20-4, 70 and emotions, 22 and empiricism, 119 and gender, 50-1

and history, 17-23, 69 and morality, 23, 71 and religion, 70-1, 85 and tragedy, 85 as 'form of apprehension', 22, 72 as 'charter', 6, 16, 20-1, 50 as psychology, 71 as transformative of 'reality', 23, 85-6 as value, 23 in initiation ceremonies, 50, 207 independent of thought, 85-6 social function of, 72, 86 myths Australian, 129-32 of Baganda, 172 of Greece, 22,69-71 N. S. Wales, 202 nationalism, 21, 40 Malinowski's attitude towards, 35: in Young Poland movement, 11 natural selection, 240 nausea, 74 Navajo, 181 Negroes, 169 New Britain, 154 New Guinea, 9, 149-50 New Ireland, 154 New Mexico, 181 Nietzsche, Friedrich, ix, 1-8, 16-26, 30, 36, 37, 48-9, 56, 59, 78, 88-9 and 'Genealogy', 42 and modernism, 21 and myth, 51 and Oedipus Rex, 88 and religion, 26 and Richard Wagner, 79 Nietzsche's reliance on Schopenhauer, 18, 69, 75 influence of, 2-6, 7-8, 12, 16-18, 25H5, 42

Malinowski's appraisal and criticism of, 19, 26, 69, 72, 78-9, 88 his 'perspectivism', 7 his 'nihilism' norms, 70, 118, 203 Northern Melanesia, 154 objectivity, 72, 111, 112 in science, 161 Oedipus Rex, 87 Malinowski's attitude towards, 81 Omaha tribe, 174, 175, 176, 182 320

Index origins, 48, 49, 60, 184, 185, 204-5, 231, 242 of totemism, 192-7, 229-30 versus 'function', 50 and myth, 51 general critique of the search for, 5, 49-51, 140, 204, 186, 189, 193, 199, 205, 241 oruncha, 129 Papuans, 145, 149, 244 past, the, 71, 85 and myth, 69 projection of ideals into, 85, 257 recreated by myth, 70, 85 relative to the present, 85 see also history and methods pater familias, 250 paternity, Australian's ignorance of biological, 135, 191 Patria potestas, 250 patriarchal theory, 249 patriarchy, 248-53 a 'naive assumption', 251 primordial, 249 Pawlicki, Father, 14, 16, 36 Pearson, Karl, 44, 51 pessimism, 71 Petzoldt, 37, 90, 103, 104, 114 philosophy, European, 2, 36, 69, 102 Malinowski's intellectual roots in, 1-5 phratries, 131, 175, 177, 178, 180, 181, 182 physics, 2, 224 Malinowski's study and application of, 13, 103^ physiology, 75, 76, 97-8, 110, 236 hypothesis of, in totemism, 172 in function of brain, 97 Planck, Max his debate with Mach, 29 plastic art, 75, 77 poetry, 73, 74 Apollonian and Dionysian aspects, 75 as expression of the Will, 75 Poland, 8-9 current interest in Malinowski, x, 1 polis, 250 polyandry, 253 polygyny, 253 Polynesia, 152, 155, 230 Ponka tribe, 176

positivism, x, 4, 6, 13, 24, 28, 29, 33, 34, 36, 37, 38, 44, 46, 87 of Ernst Mach, 36 Post, A. H., 256 power political, 203 and kinship, 258 pragmatics, 27, 41 of language use, 6 pragmatism, x, 4, 7, 25, 27, 34, 40-1, 46, 47, 52, 57, 59 Malinowski's, in approach to magic, 39 present, the, 85 subordinated to the past by myth, 70 principium individuationis, 69, 73, 74 procreation Australian theories about, 191 ignorance of cause, 190 promiscuity, 252, 259 primitive or primordial, 185, 252-3: argument against, 187, 259 prostitution, 61, 64, 266 psychology, 90, 110, 231 of magic, 119-21 Pueblo Indians, 174, 181 Punalua, 255 punishment, 164, 166, 202 Queen Charlotte Islands, 181 Radcliffe-Brown, A. R., 59, 63 rationalism, 120 and religion, 70 magic evolves into, 220 reality, 73, 77, 94, 112 as necessary struggle, 80 transformed by tragedy, 83 see also myth Reef Islands, 150 reflexivity, in Malinowski's use of myth concept, 23 Reinach, S., 197 reincarnation, 131, 142 belief in during initiation, 207 relativism, 2, 7, 207 as scientific principle, 7 in Mach's science, 6, 29 Nietzsche's, 7 in relation to tragedy, 85 religion, 2, 5, 59, 70-2, 117, 164-5, 173, 239-44 a form of social organization, 161-7, 240

321

Index religion (cont.) and magic, 39, 57, 118, 121, 162: Frazer's distinction between, 43 and Nietzsche, 26 and totemism, 52 definitions of, 45-7, 57, 60, 70, 85, 160, 164-6 in relation to economy, 226 Malinowski's and Durkheim's approaches contrasted, 43 primitive, 19, 60, 71, 236, 238, 244 research early proposals for, 2, 24-5, 35, 38, 87, 186 role of metaphysics and empiricism, 35-8 questions that determined Malinowski's, 2 Riehl, W. H., 264 ritual, 72, 164 definition of, 163 economic features of, 41, 237 its value unquestioned (Australia), 207 Rivers, 35, 63, 150, 151, 152, 153, 190, 257 Rocky Mountains, 180 Roscoe, Rev. J., 171-2 Roth, W. E., 135 Russia, 9

and totemism, 59 as 'economy of thought', 26 as 'fiction', 29; see also facts as description, 26, 140, 184, 224, 264 Frazer's idea of, 5, 28 goals of, 32-4, 93, 108, 140 Mach's philosophy of, 7, 29 definition of, 27, 105 Nietzsche's view, 5 social context and function of, 26, 33,40, 106, 110 universality of, 27 validity of, 28, 33, 35, 161 secret societies, 201^4 Seligman, C. G., 4, 52, 244 set (the mathematical concept), 92 sexual behaviour (human), 257, 266 sexual freedom, 260 sexual totems, 240 sexuality (human), 37, 50, 203, 205, 206, 236, 261 and gender, 51 and morality, 263 changes due to initiation, 202 homosexuality, 50, 203 in primitive belief, 236 Malinowski's attention to, 61-2 Malinowski's (note 13), 13 regulated by marriage, 186, 259-60 regulated by religion, 234 Shakespeare, W., 81 Similarity, Law of, 159 sachems (Iroquois leaders), 179 Simmel, G., 8 sacred and profane, 244 Sioux, 174, 177, 178 Malinowski's refutation of Durkheim's dichotomy, 57-8, 243-4 slaves, 250 Smith, William Robertson, 256 sacrifice, 72, 121, 163, 236 social institutions, 204-5, 258 Salomon Archipelago, 154 functions confused with subjective Samoa, 155-8, 167 aim, 205 Santa Cruz archipelago, 150 origins of, 205 Schiller, F., 81 social organization, 167, 205-6, 240 Schmidt, P. W., 138 and totemism, 153 Schopenhauer, A., 18, 67, 75, 78, 79 lacking in totmeic clan, 234 and Apollo-Dionysus dichotomy, 74 social science Malinowski's rejection of, 74 empiricism necessary but not the idea of'appearances' and 'will' sufficient, 27 in, 68 Frazer's role in, 123 Schrader, O., 251 social structure, 85 Schurtz, H., 204, 205 and male associations, 205 science family's role in, 265 and magic, 39, 40, 117-18: difference between science and magic, 39-40 sociology, 21, 26, 69, 204 defined, 69 and scientific method, 5, 32-5, 44, Socrates, 88 90, 104-7, 110-13, 242, 247; see Solomon Islands, 244 also methods 322

Index sorcery, 160, 162, 163, 168 soul, 95, 97 external, in Frazer's theory of totemism, 189, 194 its role in metaphysics, 68 Spencer, W. B., 42, 128, 129, 130, 132, 133, 135, 138, 139, 189, 257 Spencer and Gillen, see Gillen, F. J. spirit children, 130, 134, 152, 190 Starke, C. N., 252, 260 state, the, 250, 262 Steinthal, H., 96, 99 Strasewski, M., 14, 36, 90, 113, 114 Strauss, David contribution to concept of myth, 43 Strehlow, C , 42, 128, 129, 130, 214, 216, 218 subincision, 133, 202, 207 subjectivism, 74 and tragedy, 83 as source of art, 76 in art, 75, 77 Sumatra, 168, 230 Sunda archipelago, 126, 168 supernatural, the, 130 irreducibly conceptual, 167 as social sanction, 166, 236 superstition, 168, 236 survivals hypothesis of, 260 Szymberski, Tadeusz, 12 taboo, 139, 143, 154-6, 173, 175, 176, 203 Melanesians, 143 Polynesians, 143 totemic, 139, 150 Tang island, 155 Tasmanians, 198 theory, 94 'creates facts', 2 'theoretical man', 69, 79, 88 as 'fiction' (in Mach's positivism), 29 ethnographic, 1, 243 in Ancient Greek philosophy, 69 thought and faith, 85 as destroyer of tragedy, 83-6 as destructive to tragedy, 86 as relative to culture, 85 no access to emotions, 67 Thurnwald, R., 244

time, 69 in Laplace, 94 in myth, 70 no precise concept of, 129 Tjingilli tribe, 212, 217 Tlingit tribe, 180 Todd, A.J., 266 Torres Straits Islanders, 145-8, 217, 221, 222 totems and clans, 124, 125, 175-81, 190, 197, 217, 233, 240 definition, 125 eating of, 133, 193, 233 imitation of, 126 magic power of propagation, 142, 214-17 man's relationship to, 142, 238-40 personal, 125 sexual, 240 totemic ancestors, 128 totemic cult, 172, 233 totemic incarnations, 156 totemic local group, 130-4, 222 totemic phratries, 180 totemic totemism a form of social organization, 45, 59, 124, 145-6, 153, 172-4, 179, 182, 230-4, 241 a primitive science, 59, 237 an 'attitude to the environment', 19, 231-3 an 'economic institution' (Malinowski),45, 52 and exogamy, 38-44, 51, 58, 123, 256 and magic, 143, 149, 159, 161, 163, 168, 177, 188, 236 and religion, 124-5, 143-9, 153-63, 168, 172-9, 182, 188, 198, 226-33, 241-2 and taboo, 126, 150-7, 169-82, 188, 193, 197, 232, 239 criticism of Frazer's theories about, 184-8, 191-9 definitions of, 123, 187-96, 229-31, 241: 'does it exist?', 5, 188, 199; Malinowski's, 45, 58, 60, 197, 240; 'not a valid category', 187, 229-30 frequency distribution of types of objects not random, 196, 238 genesis of, 189-94, 229-33, 238-42 relation between magic and economics, 221—4 323

Index totemism (cont.) role of collective labour in, 143, 210-25 Toulon, 255 tradition, 118, 129, 145, 167 local group based on, 148 maintained by age-grade initiation, 206 mythological in lower societies, 166 tragedy, 74-88 as a natural tendency, 84 basic problem of, 79 culture as context for, 85 denned, 79-85 function of, 25 instinctive recoil from, 79-80 Malinowski's attitude towards, 81 Malinowski's rejection of Nietzsche's definition, 88 Malinowski's study of, 24 Trobriand Islands, 8, 35 Tshimshian tribe, 181 Torres Straits Islands, 147, 149 Tylor, E. B., 198, 260

vitalism, 80, 79-82, 83

Uganda, 171, 173 Umbaia tribe, 212, 217 unconscious, the, 98, 99 undiara ceremony, 212 Undirringita ceremony, 212 Unmatjera tribe, 211, 212, 214, 216, 222 Urabunna (Australian tribe), 134, 211-12, 216, 221-2 value a result of man's subjective attitude towards the world, 69 basic human, 242 cognitive, of myth, 87 of a function, 113 of science, 110, 111, 112 pragmatic, 111 Vancouver Island, 181 Vanicolo island, 150 Veddas, 244 vendetta, 178, 234 vestiges, 197 Victoria, 202 Virchow, R., 59

Wagner, Richard, 79 Walpari tribe, 217 Warramunga tribe, 211, 212, 214, 216, 221, 223 Webster, Hutton, 201, 204 Westermarck, E., 4, 45, 52, 62, 185, 248, 249, 259, 260, 261 methodological innovator, 258 whole, the organic, 149-50, 167-8, 182, 192, 241 integration into a social, 235 totemism not 'organic whole', 233 Wilken, G. A., 256 Will, the, 18, 19, 25, 69, 73, 74, 75, 88 a definition of, 69 Winckelmann,J., 22, 71 Witkiewicz, S. I., 12, 13, 34, 48 correspondence concerning Malinowski, 12 Wittgenstein, L., 40 women abduction of, 253 and chastity, 260 and family, 64 and marriage, 61—2 emancipation of, 266 excluded from initiation secrets (Australia), 50-1,202 hypothesis of community of wives, 249-51 position in modern society, 266 Wonkgongaru tribe, 213 Worgaia tribe, 211, 212, 214, 216 Wright, C. D., 266 Wualpa, 182 Wulmala tribe, 217 Wundt, W., 10, 14, 19, 61, 229 Yam island, 147, 148, 149 Zakopane, 11 Zelenski, Tadeusz Boy, 12 zoolatry, 238-42 as attitude to environment, 238 Zulawski, Jerzy and Kazimiera, 12 Zulawski, Zygmunt, 12

324