Kesh poetry might be written down, or might not. It might be improvised, memorised and recited, or read—but when read, even by a reader quite alone in a room, it was read aloud. A good many of the poems and songs in this book were not written down by their authors or performers, but they were pleased to have us do so. When poetry is a form of conversation, you might not try to record it all, but you do appreciate having your fine points noted. Other poems included here were written down by the author and given to the heyimas, where they would be kept in the treasury or archives for a while, and eventually sorted through and the paper recycled, or the text recopied and taken home by somebody who wanted it, or otherwise dispersed. Still others were performed aloud at Lodge teachings or other ceremonies; some of these were common property, others were given “by the breath” by one individual (author or owner) to another: these were property as gift.
I haven’t tried to distinguish lyric poems from song lyrics. When I asked to write down the words of an improvisation or to record a song, the singer usually gave cordial permission, but not always. As a fourteen-year-old boy said when I asked him to repeat an improvisation so that I could tape it, “It was a dragonfly song, you can’t make it come back.”
When writing down songs with a “matrix” of repeated syllables, the Kesh usually wrote only the syntactically meaningful words and omitted the matrix, which often constituted both the bulk of the song and the most deeply felt or meaningful part of it. But that meaning was, in their view, carried by the music and by the breath, and miscarried by the written letters. I think they were right.
Instructions and descriptions of ritual and the order of a ceremony might be written or not written; I never found any consistent pattern. A hermetic tradition and a strong resistance to hermetic and esoteric practices ran side by side in the Valley. The reverse of the situation of trust I spoke about above is that a secret is after all best kept by the breath; to write a word is to publish it. In her life-story, Stone Telling refers to the mysteries of the Lamb and Warrior cults; though these had all been exposed, spoken aloud, long ago, she still could not bring herself to write about them.
The songs and instructions of Going Westward to the Sunrise were both esoteric and common, both written and unwritten. The songs, sung by and for a dying person, were held in reverence. They were learned only from a designated teacher, a member of the Black Adobe Lodge; and teaching and learning took place at a certain time of year in a certain place set aside, a house specially built, the typical temenos or holy ground. Yet there was nothing secret about the songs at all. All adults learned them, sooner or later; children heard them sung on the First Night of the World Dance. They were, in the fullest sense of the word, common property. Yet, though a learner might write them down to aid memorisation, or the teacher write them for a person who had difficulty hearing an oral text, such transcriptions were always burned on the last night of the teaching period. The songs were never copied from writing, and never printed. Their publication here is a privilege granted by my teacher of the Lodge Rejoining, Mica of Sinshan, after careful consultation with people of the Black Adobe Lodge of Sinshan and other towns.
As for narrative fiction, it might be entirely oral, story-telling of traditional or extemporised tales; or it might be retold or read aloud from a text—this was often the method of the librarians, the more or less professional tellers of tales in prose and verse. Some narrative forms were entirely written texts, never performed aloud: biography, autobiography, the Romantic Tales, were transmitted “by the hand” not “by the breath,” in manuscript or in print. Their essential character was to be there for anyone. The same is true for the great novels of the writers Marsh, Cowardly Dog, and Mote, which are alas far too long to include in this book, though I did get in a chapter of Wordriver’s Dangerous People.
Much of what I have said about written and spoken words applies, in a general sort of way, to music. The Kesh had an adequate system of musical notation, but they used it mostly for student exercises, as a guide to practice. They did not choose to write down the score of any composition, though they might make a note of a tune, or of certain harmonies, or of matters of technique such as a tonguing or “hinge breathing,” etc., as a reminder. Music was transmitted in performance. But, most strikingly, they did not choose ever to record performance. They allowed the Exchange to make and store electronic recordings when it asked to, and we were able to record a certain number of songs and performances; but in this we were doing something which they never did, and often it was tactfully indicated to us that replication of the music—of music—was a mistake, perhaps a mistake concerning the nature of Time.
Or to put it another way, what we consider both desirable and necessary they tended to consider a weakness and a needless risk: replication, multiplication.
“One note once only in the wilderness…”
Pandora No Longer Worrying
Here as the ceremony begins to end and the heyiya-if opens out, Pandora takes hands and dances with her friends, and among them beautifully dancing are these:
Bart Jones, who first heard the first songs, the quail and the creek, and sang them to me so that I could hear my people.
Judd Boynton, who told me how to make rubber from milkweed and how to recycle the waste and how to power the washing machine, and who snowed me also how a man may dance dying, as Yeats knew:
“Soul clap its hands and sing, and louder sing
For every tatter in its mortal dress!”
—“Sailing to Byzantium”
And the Other Owners, who gave us those four months.
Jim Bittner, who provided Heinrich von Offerdingen, und andere Dingen.
Jean Nordhaus of the Folger Poetry Series, who enabled me to hoot and croak in the Folger Shakespeare Library.
Mrs. Clara Pearson of the Nehalem Tillamook people, who told the story which Kingsnake stole; and E. D. and Melville Jacobs and Jarold Ramsay, who recorded and reprinted it.
And those who make the music for the dancing: Gregory C. Hayes, who provided the time and the dancing place.
Masters of the Millers Art, working under the auspices of the Four Houses of the Sky, Douglas K. Faerber, Míbbí himself; and Kimberley Barry, whom I name Nówelemaha, Beautiful Stillness.
And the singers, listen to the names of the singers: Anne Hodgkinson Beyúnaheo, and Thomas Wagner Tomhoia, and Rebecca Warner Ódbahó Handúshe, Woman Who Delights in Buds; and Patricia O’Scannell, David Marston, Susan Marston, Malcolm Lowe, and Meredith Beck. Híó dadamnes hanóya dónhayú koumushúde!
The Three Who Cared for the Cow, my Virginia, Valerie, Jane, they are at the center, there would be no dance without them.
And behold the Geomancer, whose name measures the Valley, who shaped the hills and helped me sink half California, who went on the Salt Journey, caught the Train, and walked every step with Grey Bull—Heya Heggaia, han es im! Amoud gewakwasur, yeshou gewakwasur.
GLOSSARY
It was my intention in making this glossary to include all the Kesh words which occur in the text of the book or in the songs and poems in the recording that accompanies it. A number of other words were included for the pleasure of my fellow dictionary-readers and adepts of what an illustrious predecessor referred to as the Secret Vice.
Kesh Numbers
ap
0
chemchemdai…
26
dai
1
dídechem…
30
hú
2
dúsechem…
35
íde
3
bekelchem…
40
kle
4
gahóchem…
45
chem
5
chúmchem…
50
díde
6
chúmchemdai…
51
dúse
7
chúmchemchem…
55
bekel
8
chúmdíde…
60
gahó
9
chúmdúse…
70
chúm
10
chúmbekel…
80
húchemdai
11
chúmgahó…
90
húchemhú
12
chúmchúm…
100
húchemíde
13
chúmchúmhwaihú…
200
húchemkle
14
chúmchúmhwaide…
300
ídechem
15
chúmchúmhwaichúm.
1000
ídechemdai
16
ídechemhú
17
wedai: first
ídechemíde
18
wehú: second, etc.
ídechemkle
19
klechem
20
hwaidai: once
klechemdai…
21
hwaihú: twice
chemchem
25
hwaíde: three times, etc.
A
a 1. (prefix or suffix; indicates masculine gender. See also ta, peke) 2. (interjection; indicates vocative)
ach redwood (Sequoia sempervirens) tree or wood.
adre moon. To shine (of, or like, the moon).
adre wakwa the Moon Dance. To dance the Moon.
adselon puma, mountain lion (Felis concolor).
adsevin Venus (planet); the morning or evening star.
adgí (or) aggí wild dog (feral Canis domesticus).
aibre purple, violet color.
aiha young; new.
aíó eternity, endlessness, openness. Eternal, endless, open.
al ringtail, miners’ cat (Bassariscus astutus).
am (usually precedes obj.) by, beside, next to; along, alongside; very shortly before or after, at nearly the same time as.
ama grandmother; female ancestor in the mother’s line.
amab acceptance. To accept, to receive.
amakesh the Valley of the Na.
amavtat grandfather (mother’s father).
ambad giving, the act of giving; generosity; wealth. To give; to be rich, wealthy; to be generous.
ambadush giver, rich person, generous person.
amhú (usually precedes obj.) between, in between; (as noun) skin, surface, interface; (as verb) to be between, to be what separates or defines.
amhúdade waterskater (insect; see also taidagam).
amoud (usually precedes obj.) together, together with, in the same time or rhythm with.
amoud manhóv (to be) a member of the (same) family, to live together.
an (follows obj.) in; into; within.
anan (follows obj.) into.
anasayú madrone (Arbutus menziesii) tree or wood.
ansai rainbow, spectrum.
ansaivshe Rainbow People.
anyabad learning (rather “what one needs or ought to know” than “what is to be known”). To learn.
aó voice. To voice, give voice, speak, say.
ap zero; blank.
apap a dice game.
arba hand; handling. To use the hands, to handle.
arban work, responsibility; to look after, to work with.
arban hanuvrón to take good care of, to work carefully.
arbayai “handmind,” physical work done with intelligence, or the results of such work.
aregin coast, shore, beach; margin, edge.
areginounhóv “to live on the coast,” i.e., to be celibate.
arra word. To speak (a language in which there are words).
arrakou (or) arrakoum (or) rakoum poem; poetry; poiesis. To make or write a poem, poetry.
arrakush poet.
arsh (adj., pron., rel. pron.: subject of verb, agent) which; who; that/those which; he/she who.
asai (or) asay crossing. To cross.
asaika coming or to come across from the Five Houses to the Four Houses, or vice versa; hence, to die or to be born.
ashe man; male being. Masculine, male.
asole opal.
ast break, come apart.
aya learning; teaching; play; imitation, mimesis. To learn; to teach; to play; to imitate, to participate.
ayache manzanita (Arctostaphylos spp.) tree, shrub, wood.
ayash scholar, learner, teacher.
ayeha indeed, to be sure, truly.
B
badap gift (in the sense of talent, capacity).
bahó pleasure, delight. To please, to delight.
banhe acceptance, inclusion; insight, understanding; female orgasm. To include; to comprehend; to have orgasm (female).
baroi (or) baroy kind, kindly. To be kind.
bata (or) ta (or) tat father (biological father).
belai squash.
besh wall; shelter. To stand between, to shelter.
beshan indoors.
beshvou outdoors.
beyunahe otter (Lutra).
bí (suffix; an endearment) dear.
binye (suffix) dear little.
bibí dear, darling.
bínbín kitten, young of any species of cat.
bit fox (Urocyon).
bitbín fox cub.
bod clay pot, jar.
boled (precedes obj.) around, about (in spatial or temporal sense).
boleka return. To return, come back, turn back.
bósó acorn woodpecker (Melanerpes formicivorus).
bou (suffix) out; out of, out from (see also vou).
brai wine
hwan (or) suhwan white wine.
úyúma rosé wine.
(About thirty kinds of wine were made in the Valley. The most famous were the red Ganais, Berrena, Tomehey, and Shipa; the rosé Mes made in Ounmalin; and the white Tekage from the foothills of the Mountain.)
bú great horned owl (Bubo).
búrebúre (a plural) many, a great many.
búta horn.
búye (may precede or follow obj.) near, near to, close to, nearly, in the vicinity of, around the time of; nearby.
CH
chan relation, relative, family member.
chandí wood rat, pack rat (Neotoma fuscipes).
chebeshí lemonade.
chechení a people, people living together in a group larger than a household; townsfolk, society; social existence. (People of the household, commensals, are manhóvoud.) To live in a town or village, to live as a social being.
chemma the Five Houses of Earth; (as adj.) Five-House, of the Five Houses.
chemmahóv to live in the Five Houses; i.e., to be alive, exist, be.
chemmashe Five-House being, Earth Person.
chenats doctor, expert in medicine, physician.
geónkamats singing doctor.
nóchenats silent doctor.
gearbanats handling doctor.
dwesh bringer-in (see gedwean).
chenatsiv hedom Doctors Lodge.
chep (precedes obj.) without (see also poud).
chewitú chukar (Alectoris graeca).
chey sharing, mutual ownership. To share, to hold in common.
gochey shared, common, mutual, public
chiní eggplant.
chog leather.
chomadú boulder, rock larger than a small goat lying down.
choum town, village, place where more than one household lives.
chunú flesh, substance of an animal or plant while alive (see truned).
D
d, du (prefix; indicates the word is functioning as a direct object noun.)
dad going. To go.
dadam going along. To go along.
dade touch, the act of touching. To feel, touch, skim, go upon.
dagga leg; agent of locomotion on ground (see also hurga).
d
ahaihai jackrabbit (Lepus californicus).
dai one; single, singly; alone.
daihúda walking. To walk (on two feet; used of human beings, animals on their hind legs, and birds such as pigeons that walk).
haida to hop on two feet.
yakleda to walk on four feet.
handesddade to crawl.
dadam to walk or go on more than four or an indeterminate number of feet.
dam earth, dirt, soil; the earth.
damshe Earth People.
damsa the world; the cosmos; the Nine Houses.
daó moving, motion, action, activity. To move, to move about, be active.
delup heart (the physical organ). To pulse, throb, beat (like the heart).
dem width, breadth; to widen; wide, broad.
depemehai (usually precedes obj.) far, far from; away; at a distance, at another time, a long way/time from.
dest snake.
deyón toyon (Photinia arbutifolia), “California holly.”
dídúmí excess, superfluity, too much. To exceed, to be too much.
diftú little, small (but not brief; see inye. A pebble is diftú, not inye).
dirats blood. To bleed.
díú rising, arising. To rise, rise up, go up.
díúha southeast.
díúhafar east.
doduk rock, stone; a rock not too large or heavy to lift.
don brindle, brindled, tabby.
dót sheep.
dóto ewe.
dóta ram.
pedóta wether.
mebí, omebí, amebí lamb.
dou (usually precedes obj.) up; upon; over (see also stou; tai; oun).
doubúre (a plural) many, a good many.
doum brown, or mixed color of dark, warm tone.
doumiadú ohwe an artificial “dragon” enclosing several dancers which appeared during the Wine Dance; also called damiv hodest, Old Earth Snake. Earthquakes, as well as bodily tremors and reelings, could be ascribed to the movements of the Doumiadú ohwe underlying all the Coast Ranges.
Always Coming Home Page 55