Réunion - In the Kingdom of Sorcerers

As Réunion remained without any permanent human habitation until the 17th century, it's perhaps not surprising that the island's mythology relies heavily on the mythologies of neighbouring countries, such as Madagascar. 

When searching for a good book to read by a Réunionnais writer, I was lucky to come across La Grand-Mere Kalle by Yves Manglou (2006). Manglou has done a great job at bringing to life the story of Réunion, through the fictional eyes of its first inhabitants and under the spell of the witch Grand-Mere (Grandmother) Kalle. 

Whilst the myth is very strongly connected to Madagascar and the first part of Manglou's novel takes place there, I couldn't help but compare the witch Kala and her daughter Grand-Mere Kalle with the Indian incarnation of Kali, a terrifying aspect of the Goddess Parvati. I wonder if the 'myth' of Kali crossed the Indian Ocean to Madagascar, before being transplanted to Réunion? 

As far as I'm aware, this book hasn't been translated into English, but I was really happy to have an excuse to read a novel in French, as I don't get enough opportunities to re-connect with this language. 

Anyone who's learned another language will know that, no matter how much you learn, there's always more and it was fun grappling with a whole new set of vocabulary that covered the different parts of a ship, trade winds and the names of plants and animals specific to the southern Indian Ocean. 

Coming across words like clin-foc and artimon, I would find out the English translations (blink-jib and mizzen) and then have to look the words up again, this time in my English dictionary! As a result of reading this book, I've learned that ships have different names for the right-hand and left-hand side (tribord and bâbord in French, star board and port in English). 

I've also learned the words for the different masts on a ship - the complicated French names for beaupré, mât de misaine, grand mât and mât d'artimon and the more prosaic English terminology of bowsprit, fore-mast, main-mast and mizzen-mast! 

I noticed that some of the seafaring words in French look suspiciously English in origin and it made me think about the extent of words being borrowed from English and Dutch into French, rather then the more commonly acknowledged borrowing of French words into neighbouring Germanic languages. 

Jungle by Fabien Gelle

I also came across a lot of French words for birds and birds feature highly in the tale of Grand-Mere Kalle - the fouquet and papangue, which are birds associated with evil and the paille-en-queue (or straw-tail), the 'good guy' in the story, whose presence brings luck to the human settlements.

Much of the novel is like a 'battle of the birds' and it's interesting to see our feathery friends playing such a strong role in Réunionnais mythology. Birds play a strong role in Irish mythology too, particularly swans and it made me think of Irish stories like the Children of Lir. 

Manglou's novel has a strong ecological message and highlights the importance of teaching children about the need to preserve endemic species. When the children in the story are tricked by the witch and destroy the nests of the pailles-en-queue, a natural disaster happens and many people in the nearby village lose their lives. 

Grand-Mere Kalle and her mother Kala (who resides in Madagascar) are symbols of the destructive power of nature. Grand-Mere Kalle is born in a volcanic eruption and there is something in this myth that exposes the fear that early settlers had of living in such a geologically unstable environment. 

Sunset by Fabien Gelle

I also came across some Réunionnais Creole for the first time and the following sentence gives you a sense of what Creole on Réunion sounds like. When the birds meet their cousins on Mauritius, they say: 

Pé na problèm cousin, to nèk dire moi li pou kan to bizness! 

No idea what it means, but it sounds good! 

I also liked a phrase that was repeated several times in the novel: 

Dans la royaume des sorcières, le temps n'existe pas

(In the kingdom of sorcerers, time doesn't exist)

It gave me a feeling of the languorous nature of life in a small island like Réunion, adrift in the timeless ocean and far away from the bustle of human civilisation.

Image credits:

For this blog post, I wanted to highlight a couple of photographs of Reunion Island by Flickr member Fabien Gellé - thanks Fabien for sharing these images using the Creative Commons license.  

Quebec - In Other Words

The Quiet Revolution 

Time and again, as I've been researching Québécois culture, I've come across the expression The Quiet Revolution or la révolution tranquille. The Quiet Revolution is the Québécois equivalent of the social revolution that happened in the 1960's in the United States. During the 1960's, Quebec, like many parts of the world experienced a great deal of change in societal attitudes to all kinds of things, including politics, religion, art, sexuality. There was no great 'revolt' in Quebec but rather, quietly, a new generation began to abandon the conservative beliefs of their parents, move to the city and transform Québécois urban life.

The period of the Quiet Revolution also stands in contrast to the period before the 60's, known as Le Grand Noirceur or The Great Darkness, when Maurice Dupleissis was in charge. And it contrasts with the not-so-quiet 1970's, which kicked off with the October crisis, an extreme left-wing attempt to challenge the Québécois establishment.

I found this documentary on YouTube (only in French, sorry!) which describes the beginning of this period really well and has lots of great footage.

Tête carrée

This is a term I've come across several times and is slang for 'English-speaking Canadian'. It means 'square-head' and seems quite offensive and racist to me, as it focuses on an assumed physical characteristic, i.e. that non-French Canadians have more angular/square-shaped heads than the rounder heads of people who are of French/Gallic descent.

When it's used, it's not in a nice way and square-head also suggests 'thick' or 'stupid' based on the fact that someone can't speak French. Not surprisingly, there is a big cultural and linguistic divide in Quebec, particularly in Montreal and this leads to some animosity, as people resort to stereo-types and assumptions. 

Joual

Whether it was in the movies of Xavier Dolan, the music of Loco Locass or the literature of Michel Tremblay, I came across the word joual (pronounced zhoo-al) quite a few times during my research into Quebec. Joual is the name of the Montreal dialect of French, mostly looked down upon by those who speak 'standard' French and, in more recent times celebrated as the working-class dialect of Montreal, an authentic North American language, as opposed to standard French, a language that is so closely connected to Europe. North American French is a mish-mash of regional dialects, mostly from the north of France (places like Normandy and Picardy), so it was never really the same as the standard spoken in Paris. 

French speakers first came to North America before the French Revolution (1790's) and Québécois French retains some old-fashioned words that hark back to the age of aristocratic France. According to Taras Grescoe in his book Sacré Blues, the Québécois word Dépanneur, which means corner store, sounds more like a pirate's cove in the Caribbean, than a modern shop!

Québécois French also incorporated a lot of English expressions, for example the word enfirouâper which means to seduce or trick someone may come from the English 'to wrap in furs' 

Grescoe gives an interesting example to contrast the English-influenced French of Quebec with standard French. When a shop assistant wrote a note on Grescoe's defective CD player, he wrote:

Quand on presse sur 'open', ça fait un bruit weird

When you press 'open', it makes a weird sound

In standard French this should be:

Quand on appuie sur 'ouverture', ça fait un drole du bruit

Other common joual expressions are:

Astheur: now (a cet heure) 

Tsé?: you know? (tu sais?)

Coudon: listen here (écoute donc)

I found this documentary on YouTube (again, only in French) which explains the history of joual

La bougeotte

A Québécois tradition that I found it really hard to get my head around is the annual bougeotte, which takes place every year on the 1st of July. As incredible as it sounds, the majority of accommodation rentals in Quebec run on annual leases, which all finish on the last day of June so, unbelievably, on the 1st July, everyone who is moving to a new house or apartment moves on the same day! 

It's believed that the tradition might actually be a Scottish one, called 'Flitting day' and this used to the 1st of May until 1974, when the Québécois government decided change la bougeotte to the 1st of July, so it would coincide with Canada day - a time when everyone has a day off. 

Allophone

In a place obsessed with language, it's not surprising to come across a term like allophone, which is the word that describes anyone in Quebec whose native language isn't French or English. The next biggest language in Quebec is Italian, followed by Arabic, Spanish and Greek.

As Quebec enters the 21st century with a greater emphasis on diversity, I'd imagine that the number of allophones can only increase as a percentage of the whole population. In 1971, allophones made up 6.6% of Quebec's population, by 2001 this was 10%. 

Pure Laine

In his book on Quebec, Taras Grescoe has a lot to say about the myth-making around pure laine or pure wool, a term which is used to describe French Canadians who are directly descended from French immigrants and don't have mixed blood. Apart from its obviously racist overtones, Grescoe argues that there is no such thing as pure laine and that even the most 'French' of Québécois families will have some Native American blood running through their veins, not to mention Irish, Scottish and any number of other European ancestries. 

In the early days of settlement in New France, opportunistic immigrants came from all over Europe, mostly men in the beginning, many of whom took native wives or mistresses. It surprised me to learn that an estimated 40% of French Canadians have some Irish ancestry, as this is not something I ever heard about growing up in Ireland. I guess it's got lost in the mists of time!

I found this little video on YouTube which looks at the Irish connection to Quebec and documents a visit made by an Irish group to the Irish memorial in Grosse Ile

Tabarnac 

When I was watching Xavier Dolan's movie Mommy, I couldn't help but notice the swearing of the main male character, played by Antoine Olivier Pilon, particularly his repeated use of the word tabarnac (meaning tabarnacle) and how this swear word would scandalise and occasionally infuriate the adults around him. As swear words go, tabarnac seems very innocent and certainly nowhere near as potent as English equivalents like the 'f' word or the 'c' word. 

Like English, modern French swear words tend to refer to forbidden parts of the (generally female) body. Swearing is all about sex, which has become the most offensive way of speaking in the modern age. Québécois swear words, on the other hand, come straight from the religious fanaticism of the 18th century, so words like tabarnac, calisse, ciboire and sacrament were shocking religious profanities and, bizarrely, their shock value has persisted into the modern age. 

Chasse-galerie 

One of the most magical terms I've learned during my research is chasse-galerie, a Québécois myth about a flying canoe that transports people across the vast distances of Quebec so they can visit loved ones. Taking the flying canoe means making a contract with the devil, however, and inevitably ends up with the souls of those in the canoe being damned because the canoe hits a church steeple on its return journey. What I loved about this myth is that it combines French lore brought over by the first European settlers and Native American legends about flying canoes.

I'll leave you with this animation of La Legende du canot d'ecorce, aka La Chasse-galerie by L'office national du film du Canada

Paraguay - The Geography of Guarani Legends

Apart from Guatemala and the Netherlands, all the countries I've blogged about so far have either been island nations or landlocked countries. I guess these contrasts fascinate me, having grown up in an island nation (Ireland) and also having lived in the world's most landlocked country (Uzbekistan).

Roa Bastos, Paraguay's most famous writer, described the country as 'a landlocked island'. This only makes sense when you look at the geography of Paraguay, specifically Paraguay Oriental, which is defined by the three rivers that demarcate this region. The Parana, on the other side of which is Brazil, the Pilcomayo, which separates Paraguay and Argentina, and the River Paraguay, which cuts the country in two. This might not seem significant now, in the age of air travel, but back in the 19th century, the 'easiest' way to get to Paraguay was by river, an arduous journey that could take weeks, or sometimes months. Paraguay's many dictators did what they could to isolate the country politically but, in some ways, it was a task made easier by the country's physical isolation.

It occurred to me, whilst learning about the Guarani legends, that a lot of our spirits and myths are essentially 'animist' in origin. Perhaps man has been so overwhelmed by the magic of the mountains and jungles around him, that he's personified them in both benign and monstrous ways. Ireland and Scotland are full of rainbows and lakes, so we have pots of gold and Loch Ness monsters. Iceland has its trolls and gnomes that live under rocks. Desert nations have their winds, which can drive people mad in their intensity.

The legends of the Guarani are fascinating. It's all reptiles, forests and swamps. Although the mythology is completely new to me, there is something universal about primitive man's relationship with the Earth. In the legends of the Guarani, there are echoes of a more generic world mythology, from the Chimera of the Greeks to the zombies of the Caribbean, to Chinese ghosts and Native American folklore.

What's interested me most of all are the Legendary Monsters of the Guarani people. It's very much an oral tradition and can, therefore, vary from one tribe to another. Also the myths of the European settlers have sometimes fused with traditional Guarani legends and, like voodoo in the Caribbean or the African religions of Brazil, the end result is something quite new.

I've used Wikipedia as my main source for this. I do make an effort to find other sources online, but it would seem that all roads lead back to Wikipedia in the end and, most of the time, the articles are well-sourced and provide links back to the original texts, in the original language.

So, according to Wikipedia, there are seven Legendary Monsters in Guarani mythology. These are automatically considered to be evil, as they were all born out of either wedlock or rape (depending on which version you hear) between the evil spirit Tau and Kerana, the beautiful daughter of the main (Sun and Moon) god and goddess. I guess, in that respect, Kerana represents the Earth. Their seven, supposedly evil, offspring are all spirits of the natural world.

Teju Jagua is the oldest sibling, and the most frightening, with a snake's body and seven dog heads that shoot out fire (compare this with Medusa or Hydra). Teju Jagua seems to be the least 'human' of all the monsters and inhabits the deepest, darkest caverns and recesses of the many hills in Paraguay. It doesn't seem to do anything except consume the fruits of the earth.

Mbói Tu'ĩ is a snake with a parrot's head, that can let out petrifying shrieks and is the master of all waterways and aquatic creatures.

Moñái is another snake-like creature, this time with horns and is the god of the open fields. It has a habit of stealing the harvest from villages and is duped by the virgin Porâsý, who pretends that she will marry him, but sacrifices herself in the end by tricking Moñái and being killed with him.

Jasy Jatere is the god of plants, most importantly Yerba maté and is responsible for the drowsy, soporific, Lotus-eating qualities of a sub- tropical siesta. Jasy Jatere means 'little piece of the moon' and is the only one that doesn't appear as a monster, but rather a pale, fair-haired boy that lures children into the forest and lets them be eaten by his cannibalistic brother Ao Ao.

Kurupi is a very familiar god of sexuality and fertility with a great 'talent' for impregnating women, most conveniently, due to the length of his manhood, through open windows and doors left ajar. I'm sure that more than one teenage pregnancy and extra marital affair was explained by Kurupi's lust driven appetite.

Ao Ao is the god of hills and mountains, a kind of fanged sheep or hog, that really reminds me of another mystical beast that I can't quite put my finger on. I think there is a Scottish monster which is similar to Ao Ao. It basically roams the hills, preying on lone travellers and naughty children lured into the forest by Jasy Jatere.

Last, but not least, is Luison, the god of death. Luison has somehow merged with the European myths about werewolves and transcends regional mythologies, appearing also in Argentina and Brazil.

It really fascinates me, how dogs are so closely connected to death. There is Anubis

I can, kind of, understand then why independent Paraguay's first dictator, the Rousseau-obsessed Francia, in one of his many bouts of insanity, ordered that all dogs in Paraguay be shot dead. Man's relationship with dogs is a long and complicated one and one that I will keep an eye on, as I continue my learning journey around the world.

Image Credits

The image of the Iguazu Falls has been provided by flickruser willsfca a.k.a Will Luo, originally from Taiwan and now living in San Francisco.  Will is a self-confessed photogeek and you can see more on his website http://www.wluo.org/

The drawing/image of the Kurupi is by flickruser cochabambahotel. 

The image of Anubis was contributed to Wikimedia by Jeff Dahl, who has created a whole series of Egyptian dieties - I'm very impressed Jeff!  This image is available under GNU Free Documentation License and the license is at the following link:

http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/Commons:GNU_Free_Documentation_License