Dark Matter of the Mind

by Daniel L. Everett

  10. Smoke can indicate imminent death as well as fire for cooking and warmth.

  11. Words should be placed in the order subject-verb-object unless intentionally signaling something beyond the literal meaning of the words.

  12. One can put one sentence inside another to more effectively communicate old information (relative clauses).

  13. Consonants are aspirated at the beginning of certain syllables.

  None of these items—just barely scratching the surface of implicit information in the sentences—are universal. “Plots” are not universal. “September 11” is a particular historical event known through Western culture. Times Square, the Taliban, fuse, SUV, terrorist, and so on, are all cultural and nonuniversal—concepts and categories that are neither explained in the text nor universally known. They draw upon dark matter, unstated cultural experience.

  Another example of dark matter knowledge can be found in Mark chapter 1, verse 4:

  And so John the Baptist appeared in the wilderness, preaching a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins. The whole Judean countryside and all the people of Jerusalem went out to him. Confessing their sins, they were baptized by him in the Jordan River.

  Here we see at least the following contents of American dark matter, based upon American interpretation of this ancient religious text:

  1. We do bad things that we must be forgiven for.

  2. We can be forgiven by telling others about our bad things.

  3. It is possible for one person to speak to God.

  4. There is an entity known as God. God is male. God is judgmental. God is to be feared.

  5. A story about another culture that has not existed for more than two thousand years can be crucially relevant to an extremely different modern industrialized culture.

  6. There are deserts.

  INDEXICALS IN DARK MATTER

  Alongside dark matter knowledge that is triggered by texts, we use additional kinds of overt references to dark matter outside of formal texts (e.g., conversations, art, and other manifestations of culture and Culture). For example, we often use placeholders for cultural values, often in the guise of knowledge, which serves primarily to underscore the values. Important work on these referents refers to them as indexicals, and they are also important for our understanding of how dark matter structures our interpretation of the world, being as they are a subset of our unspoken, occasionally ineffable, knowledge.

  The term indexical initially was developed to single out the behavior of words—especially pronouns—with systematically shifting references. For example, the first-person singular pronoun, I, refers to whoever is speaking, shifting back and forth in a conversation to refer to the different speaker. It can also be used by someone speaking when quoting another person speaking, as in

  “John said, ‘I [i.e., John, not the person telling us what John said] can’t make it.’”

  Or this indexical can refer to the speaker, as in:

  “John said I can’t make it because he needs to use the car.”

  Likewise, the indexical now refers to the moment of utterance. There refers to a place away from where the speaker is. In other words, the literal meaning of the word is not enough to know what it is referring to: which first-person singular is it singling out? Which speaker? To interpret indexicals, one needs knowledge about the current context of utterance. Indexicals often straddle the boundary between language and culture. Ochs and Capps (2002) and others have shown, for example, that body posture during conversation can index gender or respect for authority in particular cultures.

  The idea of indexicals emerges from the work of C. S. Peirce (1977) and, to a lesser degree, from Saussure ([1916] 2012). All signs are combinations of form and meaning. Peirce identifies three types of sign: the icon, the index, and the symbol. Indexes are connected physically to what they signal or “mean.” For example, smoke is usually physically connected to/caused by fire, and so smoke is an index of fire. A footprint is an index of the person who made it. An icon is not physically connected to its referent or meaning, but it somehow resembles it, however idealistically. A picture, for example, is an icon for a person by physically (reflection of light waves, etc.) resembling that person. Finally, though, there are the signs that make human language possible: symbols. The forms of symbols are connected conventionally to their meanings. The form-meaning connection is thus a result of dark matter induced by cultural practices—culturing, more generally. I utter the phonemic sequence snow when I wish to describe crystalized frozen precipitate; another language would use another phonemic sequence. These are all well-known facts, of course. I review them here to better understand the more elaborate notion of indexicals that has emerged from the work of Silverstein (2003), Eckert (2008), and others.

  In one of Silverstein’s (2003, 193–229) most important discussions, he argues that indexicals are ordered hierarchically. He makes this point via an analysis of how some people talk about wine. As he puts it (193): “‘Indexical order’ is the concept necessary to showing us how to relate the micro-social to the macro-social frames of analysis of any sociolinguistic phenomenon.” In developing an intricate theory of hierarchical and recursive indexing functions linking hierarchically structured social contexts, Silverstein illustrates the knowledge-and-value intertwining of dark matter, showing how a confluence of the cultural and the individual shapes the way we think, talk, and present ourselves in particular social contexts.

  Like the populations Silverstein has studied (indeed, any population), the Pirahãs also index sociocultural components in their speech and behavior. For example, consider what I have elsewhere (D. Everett 1979, 1983, 1986, 2005a) referred to as “phonetic posture” and phonological inventory, used to distinguish male vs. female speech. Pirahã women usually speak with more constriction at the back of their throat, producing the impression of a more “guttural” speech than men. Moreover, the points of articulation of most Pirahã women (at least, at the villages I focused on regarding this) tend to be retracted, or farther back in the mouth, relative to men’s speech. Moreover, women speak usually with one less phoneme than men, as discussed in more detail in the next chapter. Thus phonetics and phonology are employed as gender indexicals in Pirahã. Moreover, the use of evidentials and the principal of “immediacy of experience” (D. Everett 2012b) are both further indexicals at a higher level, indexing Pirahã culture as distinct from outsider culture.

  DARK MATTER OF PROCEDURES AND COMPLAINTS

  Returning to texts, however, perhaps the richest and most accessible source of indexicals is texts. We saw rich evidence of dark matter earlier looking at texts on Woodstock, and the Bible. Now I want to examine textual cues of dark matter in Pirahã discourses. The text that follows is an expository discourse from Pirahã, collected in a small office in Belém, Brazil, in March 1979. The speaker, Kaabogí, had traveled with me from his village, in order to accompany his niece, the approximately twelve-year old Paáxai, who was to receive surgery and physical therapy on her legs because she had contracted poliomyelitis while a baby in the village (from an unknown source).

  Since her surgery was scheduled several weeks later in Brasilía, the FUNAI (National Indian Foundation of Brazil) had asked me to allow the Pirahãs to stay with me until surgery and then to transport them (at my expense) from Porto Velho to Brasília. I took advantage of the time to learn about the Pirahãs from Kaabogí and to help him learn more about Brazilian culture. We stayed in the large city of Belém.

  I had brought some Pirahã bows and arrows from the village as souvenirs, and they were in the office. So I asked Kaabogí to tell me how to make an arrow. As I switched on the recorder, he went right into instruction on how to make the serrated tip arrow they use to kill monkeys. Fluently, though impromptu, he explained how to make such an arrow and said a bit about its purpose. The Pirahãs often hesitate when talking about such things because they assume that everyone knows how to make arrows, hunt, and so on. But Kaabogí was an experienc
ed teacher and knew that when I asked for information, I was after any information I could get.

  What is explained is the visible portion of the arrows. What is unspoken is their unseen functions. The functions of the different arrow types are never explained. It seems obvious to a Pirahã, for example, what the different tips are for—that is, their functions are derivable from their forms (to one with an emic perspective). For example, the serrated tips are useful for monkeys. This is because some monkeys, especially large spider monkeys and woolly monkeys, will pull arrows out of their bodies when shot, fleeing to another part of the jungle. They cannot pull out the notched or serrated-tipped arrows, however, without inflicting much more pain and suffering on themselves. So the five-foot-long arrow remains in them, preventing them from escaping into the thick branches. They either fall to the ground or die in place, where they can be easily recovered. This is all background information that would not normally be made explicit, as indeed it is not in the following text.

  Arrow-Making Text

  Kaabogí Pirahã, March 1979

  Recorded by Daniel L. Everett

  1. Sahaí itababi hi aagá. Hoí hi gái.

  He did [asked about] tying an arrow. A couple he said.

  2. Sitababi hi aagá hói. Ti soioágaháí ogáogába gaí. Ti igáísai.

  He asked about tying an arrow. I need thread to put there. I spoke.

  3. i i soioágai iga. áítatíi ogabógaáti.

  Thing, thing, thread. [Or] cotton spun line you need.

  4. Tíigíi poioaagá gai. Ti tipóita gái. Gáobáháá gaííhí.

  Hard tip you need there. I tip there. Put right there.

  5. Ti aiíí bóíóoeooe hiaóbáhá gaií. Ti baáai ií.

  I do bamboo. You put there. I make it good.

  6. íáaogió ipoíooe hiaó bí sogi. Tipóíbogaiipíso.

  There you need to put [it]. I therefore put hardwood on [the] arrow tip.

  7. Kabáahagáí. Ti íi poiaoágai. Poi báakoi.

  Nothing else. I put hardwood. Good hardwood.

  8. ogáísai. Hi gáísai oogiái. Poi báasí káipaá. Sitaí.

  Dan. [I] speak [to] him, Dan. Put good hardwood on it. Feathers too.

  9. Píaíí. Hoí toíí táogaá gaii hoítoí. Hoítoíí táooágai.

  Also. Currasow feathers tie on. Currasow. Tie on currasow feathers.

  10. ígai ígai ti gáabáá ígai. Kahaiíooí, kahaiíooí.

  I tie it next. The arrow shaft, the arrow shaft.

  11. aáágaii. Kahaiíooí iáoihoi. iáóío íooíhii.

  I place it. The arrow shaft. Species of grass [from which is made the arrow shaft].

  12. Tigáobá gaiii. Tii íi poiaáagaii tipói tagáigáobai.

  I finish tying it. I put on the hard tip. I tie on the hard tip.

  13. oogiái hi, káhiógisai. Kahai booabísa póoii.

  Dan wants an arrow. Put on the bamboo tip.

  14. Tagáígáobáháai. Higáísai oogiái koapóí tagaigábógááti.

  Finish tying it. [I] told Dan. Thusly tie it on.

  15. Tagai gábógááti. ibóihoi píaii. Póii píaii.

  Tie it on well. The bamboo. The hardwood too.

  16. Póii aáati poiii. Hoíbogaai paháxai.

  Put on the hardwood. For when you shoot the bow.

  17. ípói bogaai páai. Ti ísitaí gáooa.

  The hardwood on the bamboo. I tied feathers next.

  18. Sitaíta pitaí hi abaíai. Pita ógííá.

  Eagle feathers to make it pretty. Get eagle feathers.

  19. Kogaí kabahákogá. Hoítoí í táogá hoítoí.

  Nevertheless [eagle feathers] ran out. [Just] tie it with currasow feathers. Curassow.

  20. Sitaíxi áoi hoiipóooi poi. ipóii kahaiioíi áaá kahaiíooí.

  Tie the feathers on to the end. Tie the feathers onto the end of the arrow.’

  21. Kahaiíooí póii póí bogaiipaháí. Gaii pói kooí abáaáísai.

  Put a hard tip on the end of the arrow shaft. It is good for killing spider monkeys.

  22. Pói kooí. abáaísai póíbogai. Hi gáísai. Poibogaáti poi.

  The serrated tip is good for spider monkeys. I speak to him. [Use] a serrated arrow tip.

  23. Sabáaáíhai saopíkoí. ai igíaia.

  It enters securely. OK, that’s all.

  What is the dark matter of this text? Well, it turns out that the cotton thread that holds the arrow tip and feathers to the arrow is spun by women. A man cannot have an arrow without a woman in his life—mother, sister, or wife. Arrows need a hard primary tip to hold on the additional specialized tip for the type of game (see figs. 5.3 and 5.4). This tip is crucial. Another fact is that there are various types of tip material available in the jungle, but some of it warps and then the tip is less than optimal. Thus the spoken text is merely superficial information about arrow making. What was not spoken is assumed. But most of it is certainly able to be discussed, as we just did here. Deeper dark matter would be the need to kill in the first place.

  Figure 5.3. Thread spun by Pirahã women holds the tip of the arrow together, binding feathers to the arrow.

  Figure 5.4. Set of Pirahã arrows: bird, big game, and fishing arrows.

  Another Pirahã story reveals a more complex set of values, built around the Pirahãs’ ambivalence toward river traders. On the one hand, they want the trade items they bring, but on the other, they do not like the traders taking things from what the Pirahãs perceive as their own land, the flood plain of the Maici. The trading has been halted since around 2002, as FUNAI takes the Pirahãs to town by road to trade and purchase goods. But at the time of this story, a group of men whose families had for generations traded with the Pirahãs—all based nearby at a settlement called Nossa Senhora Auxiliadora came regularly, several times per month during the Brazil nut season (December to March) to trade.

  Stolen Brazil Nut Groves

  Informant: Kaabogí

  Linguist: Daniel Everett

  Date: ca. March 1979

  1. Hi ooagaií ooagaií hi hiabaaí hiabisóaa.

  He did not pay Xoágaii [Kaabogí’s brother].

  2. o hi hiabaaí hiabisóai hiaitíihií.

  He did not pay the Pirahã[s].

  3. aiia saagábagaá kagáííai hoaáí sigíai.

  The Brazil nut grove is named. The jaguar place.

  4. Hiaitíihíí aiia sabá ííko (Chico).

  [The thief of] the Pirahãs’ Brazil nut grove [is] Chico [Alecrim].

  5. Báí ao ao o híi hia baí hiabahá hi ao ííko.

  The parent, foreigner, he, paid not. He foreigner, Chico.

  6. Hi ao hói híába o áíiasi hiabaí hiabáí ííko.

  He the foreigner did not do a little. It Brazil nut grove did not pay Chico.

  7. Pasabí aí hiaitíihí aíia sagábagáá. Kagáíia hoaáí sigiáíao.

  Passar Bem [foreigners] [with respect/to the detriment of] the Pirahãs call the Brazil nut grove.

  8. a ao áíiasii hiabaí, hiabahá. ao ao áíia soáo báóoa. áóiitá.

  It, foreigner Brazil nut grove did not pay. Foreigner Brazil nut grove João last name. Didn’t pay.

  9. ooá hi ogaaá í ai. a a ogoó.

  He wants the place. That one. Foreigner wants.

  10. Bigái i aaí i hi Boisíi a híai hi.

  Bernardo, then Moisés also want.

  11. a Boisíi a ao áíasi hiabaaíhiabá.

  Foreigner Moisés foreigner Brazil nut grove did not pay. [Moisés did not pay for the Brazil nut grove.]

  12. Sogohóíga ai píaii.

  [The Brazil nut grove] Sogohóíga also [he did not pay for]. [“Sogohóíga” is a Portuguese loanword, but I am not sure what it is.]

  13. Hiaitíihí í aiia saagabagaá ai. Si kaá sogohóíga áí.

  Pirahãs call the Brazil nut grove that. Its name is Sogohóíga.

  14. Hiatíihí í aiia sabá sogohóíga.

  Pirahãs’ Brazil nut grove is called Sogohóíga.

  15.
áí ipoógii hii gíai. oogií hoiigíaí ao áíiasi hiabaaíhiaba.

  Then Xipoógi hi [said to] you. In the deep jungle, in that area, he did not pay for the Brazil nut grove.

  16. Hi ao ao hi I hoaihiabahá. aohii hoaí hiabahá.

  He, foreigner, foreigner, he didn’t talk. The foreigner did not talk.

  17. o hii hoaihiabahá a o a a o oga aó a o.áíí gaaába.

  [About the Brazil nut grove] he did not speak. He wanted the foreigner the Brazil nut grove. Thus [not speaking] he remained.

  18. Batíóoi aabaábái.aiiisai gíai gaá Batíóoi.

  Martinho almost remained [not speaking]. Did not speak. Martinho.

  19. ogáísai híiga hi obaihiabiháí oogiái hi áíia hiahoáti.

  [About] [the Brazil nut grove] he [did not] go. He did not see. Dan speak [to him about our] Brazil nut grove.

  20. oogiái. Batíóoa íga aisahá. Tibaáóbahá.

  Dan. Martinho spoke. I shoot you.

  21. Hi Batíóoi o gáísaiiá. oogái hi obaihibihaí.

  He, Martinho, spoke. He will not see the field.

  22. Higíhi hiaópikáha. áapagi i tiihíi.

  The man is angry. There are lots of Brazil nuts.

  23. isáí hiagohá Batío. a aí hiogísaái.

  It [is too] hot to go. Martinho [said]. Doesn’t he want to go?

  24. Tíaihaí ip ipógí. Hiogísa. aitíihi aí ipógii.

  I will go Xipoógí (said). He wants to. The Pirahã, Xipógií.

  25. Hiogísa. aitíihi aí ipógii. Potagíipa ai í.

  He wants to. The Pirahã Xipógií. [He wants to go to] Ponta Limpa.

  26. aapago bií tihí ai i saóoi ahoagía.

  He paid well for the Brazil nut [pagou bem—Portuguese]. Xiaóoi spoke.

  27. ai aitáobaaa giso. Bagisai. iáágaí isoáo.

  He laid down much [of] this. Giving. He gave much, João.

  28. Baagáha isoáo. i ipógií hia ipógi hiáo.

  He gave much, João. He [paid] much to Xipógií.

  29. Hi oagaoa kaisa. Hóai aoáto bohóí hóihii.