Folk literature

Media

Part of Panorama

Title: Folk literature
Creator: Manuel, E. Arsenio
Identifier: So they have!
Language: English
Source: Panorama Volume XII (No. 2) February 1960
Year: 1960
Rights
Fulltext: So they have! By E. Arsenio Manuel 7 he culture, experiences and sentiments of a people usually find expression in their literature—whether oral or written. In a preliterate society this expression attains ideal soil for growth in its myths and leg ends, folk tales, rituals, poetry, and songs. Advanced or civilized peoples still make folk literature, but this is not so rich nor so ima ginative; they are, however, the makers of written literature in which they excel. Each period and epoch in the cultural history of a people therefore produces the corresponding type-mirror for the ample reflection of their culture. For instance, Tagalog is compa ratively poor in its folk literature but rich in its written literature. Some mountain peoples of North ern Luzon, on the other hand, have a wealth of folk literature that cannot be matched by the combined richness of that of Lu zon lowlanders, although they do not have any developed written literature. This may be explained by the fact that the mountain peoples were really never vanquished by the Spanish conquistadores. They were thus able to preserve their primitive culture. The lowlanders, on the other hand, easily submit ted, not bloodlessly to be sure, to the might of the conquerors, or to the more softening influence of the cross. Their culture, therefore, became adulterated; and although on the whole it got enriched, some of its ancient manifestations were totally wiped out. Sometimes, though, a people shows a strong disinclination to give up what is native in the face of disorganiz ing foreign forces, and when this happens, the event serves as an index of the virility of the group. The unwritten literature of the Filipinos is the result of the .effort of the masses at oral expression, whether conscious or unconscious. It is traditional and for that rea son has age; it is rooted in anti quity. Behind it are thousands of years of development. Customs February i960 39 and superstitions gave it impetus; it developed into myths and leg ends, folk tales and stories; then into folk songs and ballads, later flowering into narrative poems and epics. In a mythological period the people felt veritable truths in their myths. With retelling, these myths gained audience as society grew and lent permanence to this folk type until they became a part of tne culture of the people. The creation of the earth and sky, of the first man and woman, of fire and water and of other mysterious forces of nature—these were easi ly the subjects of fear and vene ration and consequently of popu lar thought and belief. /I mong the ancient Bisayans of Negros Island it was believed that the land was caused by Manaul, the king-bird of the air, who, to put a stop to the war between tne sea and the sky, lift ed rocks up in the air ana cast them down to become the first lands. This fabulous bird was the same one who pecked at the bam boo that yielded the first man and woman. Iloko farmers appear to have preserved a trace of tne same folk-motif of the first man and woman coming out of a bamboo cast into the sea by Angngalo, a cyclopean giant to whom is as cribed creative acts of supernatu ral character. He juggled with mountains—at times lifting them bodily to other places. He dug 40 holes with his fingers to make great valleys, urinating into them afterwards to convert them into bodies of water. Angngalo’s gstring could dry the waters of the sea and his principle could be held firm across the Abra river gap for people to use as a bridge. This legendary figure finds its counterpart in the Ibaloy myth of a giant who used to extend his arms across the swollen rivers. More significant still is the Atayal tale from Formosa of a man sixty fathoms tall “whose phallus was of a size large enough (on which) to cross a river.” The Iloko ver sion ties up with the Formosan Atayal. Among the Manobos of Minda nao, the creation of the world is attributed to the first great Manobo, Makalidung, who set it on posts. Close to the central pillar he had his abode in company with a python; he shook the posts whenever he was angered, there by causing earthquakes. This gi ant has his counterpart in Taliakud, the Tagbanwa chief deity of a seven-floor underworld, and in an Ifugao Atlas of the underworld known as Tinukud. The belief in an Atlas, or god who supports the earth world, seems to be widespread in the Philippines, and tne name ap plied to this supernatural deity is nearly always derived from the same stem tukud (tukud, tokod —meaning post or support) which is common in many Philippine languages. Folk imagination finds an in teresting expression in the story of how the sky came to be. The Bagobo version attributes the sky’s present position to a woman pounding rice. She accidentally hit it with her pestle, thus rais ing it where it is now. This tale is widespread in Mindanao—the Tiruray modifying it a little. Here the pounder is on top of a mound. The Moro version has it that once upon a time an average person would bump his head against the sky if he stood erect. The same is found among the Subanons and the Bilaans, except that in this last, the rice-pounaer suspends her grandchild in a patadyong against the low sky. A Hiligaynon variant is more picturesque, for here a war-dancer hit the sky with his spear. A similarly interesting ver sion is the Iloko story. Here, a tired and hungry husband comes from work and finds his wife pounding rice. Taking hold of another pestle he starts helping his wife pounding rice and in his haste he hits not only the sky but also the comb, earrings, ana necklace which his wife had stuck there. The comb became the moon, the precious stones, the stars. H flood myth that is common 1 among the mountain peoples of Northern Luzon center around the story of a brother and a sister who, after the flood, were the only ones who survived. They became the ancestors of the Igorots. This February 1960 41 is somewhat enlarged in the Bontok version where the sons of Lu mawig, the God-hero, inundated the world to raise mountains to enable them to catch pigs and deer. In the Ifugao story, which is greatly expanded, Wigan’s son and daughter marry to give birth to children who populated the Ifugao world. It is among the Ifugaos that myth recitation has reached a high point of develop ment, becoming indeed part of every Ifugao ritual. Among the Tirurays of Minda nao, the first man was created by Sualla who touched into life one of the eight Khnemontao wood carvings in the place of the sun, and from one of his ribs was cre ated the first woman. His first child died, but out of him came immeasurable benefits: from the teeth of Mentalalan, the child, sprouted the first corn, from his navel grew the first rice, and from his hands the first banana plants. But Sualla’s sister was a devilish sort—Satan’s female counterpart— and, envious of her brother’s crea tions, she threw down her comb which became the first pig which destroyed the banana plants; she snat her buyo from her high abode in Bonggo to tum it into infesting rats to eat the rice and com. Myths in their genuine form are prose narrations. But the Ifu gao myths used in their rituals are metrical—which perhaps indi cates a more developed form. Bal lad recitations became a medium of emotional expression of the dailv life and experience of the people, and as they already prob 42 Panorama ably had developed rhythms in their rituals, it was now an easy matter to contain their stories in ballads. There is little reason to suppose that the growth was so, nevertheless this might be sur mised if one took into considera tion the idea that rituals are prob ably as old as subjects of folk literature came in answer to the needs of a more sophisticated so ciety. CT HAT PRELITERATB societies * could develop the ballad form into folk art seems to point to the possibilities of crowd expression if given the impetus and the chance for growth under auspicious con ditions. Consider, for instance, this excerpt from a Bontok ballad both from the elemental feeling it arouses and the pagan energy achieved through simplicity of narration: there are, they say, two cousins: let 'us fetch wood; then, they say, they go to fetch wood, then, that younger brother goes, they say, then the girls make much noise weaving; why! I shall sit down here, as here I have found girls, says the younger brother, they say; * * » I shall masticate for the child; the older brother says: I won’t allow you to masticate for my child; then the younger brother weeps, then he says: alas! my wife, she will be married to another one. The above is a representative example of the advanced develop ment of this folk type among our mountain peoples. Most Tagalog ballads have degenerated into co mic and tragico-comic beats and themes. Such pre-Spanish songs as the household diona and talindao have been entirely lost. So have the wayside songs indulanin and dulayinin, and tne boat songs suliranin and manigpasin. Filipino folk literature finds its highest point of development in its epics. While other ethnic groups in the plains and along the coasts do not possess sustained narratives of epical character, it is not a sure indication that they did not have them once upon a time. Their simple literature gave in to the more sophisticated out side influences which relentlessly gained inroads as time passed. On the other hand where there were all the favorable conditions the lit erary historian could ask for in Ifu gao environment that assured the flowering of folk literature in that mountain region. Here, shut off by mountain fastness from with out, with a wonderful rice-terrace civilization that furnished a steady supply of victuals for the body, the Ifugao had all the time and leisure to develop a rich folk lit erature. February 1960 43 In no other instance has folk lore become so neatly and beau tifully intertwined with a people’s customs and beliefs as among the Ifugaos. Every phase of the life cycle is studded with countless ceremonies to gain the favor of the gods; or with sorceries and reli gious rites designed to overcome an enemy in battle. The Ifugaos have more than a thousand and five hundred deities whom they believe have to be propitiated. From rituals it is but an easy step to folk literature. Let us pick up the threads of customs and lore brocaded into the rich tapestry of the folk lit erature of the first social class of the Ifugao society, the kadangyan class. Particularly let us see this group in its marriage celebration to oDserve the workings of the myth, epic, and song. Courtship is initiated by an emissary of the boy with an oral recitation of the family history, including heroic exploits, of his ancestors. This us ually includes an enumeration of the assets and properties of the boy’s family to tne satisfaction of the girl’s party. If no hitch deve lops, the boy starts working for the girl’s parents until he comes of age. Preparations for the mar riage are then made. The marriage ceremony is ela borate with the rites taking almost the whole day, for the gods must be propitiated with prayers and the recitations of the deeds of leg endary heroes—the idea being to insure, by analogy or sympathetic magic, the happiness and prosper ity of the couple. Neither are Dad omens left alone, for there follows a series of appeasements and sa crifices. Certain religious ceremo; nies, the uyauy for instance, must be carried out before the wedding festival is finally performed. Pvery night for fifteen to thirty days, the whole neighbor hood celebrates in music, dance and song, the last five days be ing the climax of the uyauy. On the first night of the last five days which is called the holyat, a select group sings the Alim, one of theepics of the Ifugao-people. It is tne story of a marriage that failed due to the ignorance of the man. Meanwhile ricewine flows freely. The singing of this epic may take two days, after which the priests continue it with the Baltong and then the Guway which is sung under the house. This ends the uyauy. But not the singing. Us ually two men, hand in hand, stand on the threshold of the new home and sing the Danew which is a blessing song. In other parts of the house and in the yard, the old men join the young in danc ing, stopping only to tell more legendary stories of gopas. The groom is finally crowned with the bird kalaw’s head, com plete with accessories and trap pings. The bride, in turn, is given her gifts of iewelry and beads. The couple then begins a series Panorama of visits—to relatives in other vil lages, where singing and dancing likewise take place. In the morn ing a priest recites the hangal, an apology to the gods of animals. It is a sort of poem recited be fore animals are butchered. Ano ther day of feasting follows and finally the couple is blessed by the priest in a ritual called haliqonup. This terminates the uyauy festival. But not the various other rituals which must be observed! Follow ing thfe harvest season next to the marriage celebration, the villagers from the man’s place go to the girl’s farm to harvest the crop, and vice versa. This is the height of thanksgiving. Here the Hudhud is sung. It is another epic, closer to the people than the Alim. In the granary where the harvest is brought, the old folks sing the bonbonwe, a question and answer type of song on kindred subjects. The younger men and women ex change love songs called liwliwa, a prelude to courtship. Now, at last, the couple are ready to re ceive the final blessing and bene diction—the honga—and after al most a year of colorful festival and merrymaking, the ritual, the dance, and the song are over. <The color and wealth of these 1 festivals can hardly be dupli cated anywhere, except perhaps in Mindanao among the Maranao Moros. The long narrative poems of this people are just as rooted in the tradition of the people as those of the tribes of Northern Luzon. The darangans, as these narrative poems are called in Ma ranao, are epical both in concep tion and structure. Of these, how ever, only one seems to have been fully recorded. This is the Bantugan, a fragmentary translation of which exists in English. This piece requires three nights of sing ing to finish. It has been described as possessing such sustained beau ty and pathos that women have been known to weep hearing it sung. Among the Sulu Moros, an epic of lyrical quality, the Pa rang Sabir, is well known. This epic, however, has never been written down completely, and only a fragment in an inadequate English translation is available. The Tagban was of Palawan also possess a rich though untapped popular literature, and among their long narrative poems which they call dagoy and sudsud, there are pieces of epic range. Every ethnic group in the Phil ippines is the possessor of a rich February 1960 45 lore and so long as these groups do not become absorbed by strong er peoples, their folk creations are likely to be retold and recited and sung for all time. The Manobos of Southern Mindanao, for in stance, had been pushed time and again by migrating peoples from without until they Decame bottled up far in the hinterland where they have lived and preserved their lore to a surprising degree. One long poem of epic breath, the Tatuaang, is reported from this area. On the other hand, the Bikols used to have an epic which has been partially lost. Among the Ibaloy people bearing the Drunt of outside contact, one or two old native priests still remember their great folk traditions, among which two related epics—the Kabuniyan and the Bendian—still survive. It is feared that unless these are ac tually written down, these folk stories will be lost to us. The Iloko narrative poem, Lam-ang, has certain epic qualities and pre Spanish elements which would date it among the earliest narra tives of length in existence. It seems unbelievable that the metrical romances of Europe, which started to fall out of public favor after the Spanish Cervantes had ridiculed and parodied them in his Don Quixote, would find fertile ground in the Philippines where the institution of knighterrantry was as totally strange as snowfall. But the seed was some how disseminated; it sprouted and grew, and finally flowered in Fran cisco Baltazar’s Florante at Laura towards the second third of the nineteenth century. 'Wetrical romances of Medieval Europe were the pro duct of folk creation and legiti mately belong to folk literature. In Tagalog a considerable num ber of awits and corridos were anonymous, though some authors were audacious enough to put their names on the title pages. The metrical romances became very widely popular and very soon every class had its share of the delightful literary fare. Even the farmer, home from his labor, found rest reading this cheap lit erary repast. Inaeed everybody found in the metrical romances endless entertainment, drawing from them quotations to prove a point, reciting them, singing them, and even dancing to their musical rendition. In Tagalog alone there used to be about two hundred awits and corridos. In Iloko, Pampangan, 46 and in other Philippine languages, the count is probably a little less. But the Iloko has preserved a na tive piece which snows very little traces of Spanish influence. This is the Lam-ang. Compared with other metrical romances in the , Philippines the Lam-ang has no definite meter or stanzaic pattern —a fact which certainly points out to its more native origin. It is a thousand-line epic in mono rima. This may indicate further that the native versifiers did not show much concern for the me ter or regular syllabic counting, and yet their folk literature was no less richer for the lack. There is a very interesting folk development of the awit closely associated with the song, and this is. the dance. This element appears to be the contribution ot the southern Tagalog to the develop ment of the awit. In Quezon province, the dance is an insepar able feature of the awit. The awit celebration may indeed start with out a dance, but it eventually leads to the dance. In a tapatan, for instance, the performers start in front of the house of the celeb rant reciting verses. The moment they succeed in ascending the stairs, the interest begins to cen ter on the clever maneuvering of the incoming participants to make those already in the house swav to the rhythm of the song. As soon as they have succeeded in doing this, they are welcomed into the sala and the affair become^ one continuous singing and dancing. The whole metrical romance may be sung and danced in this way for hours on end. The parti cipants, having committed whole romances to memory, pit their ta lents one against the other. One dancer sings a stanza or two and another takes it up and, alternate ly picking the narrative, finishes tne song. A more trying way was for one to pick out one stanza at random from any -text and the other continue with the next fol lowing stanza. A variation was for one to recite any enigmatic'pas sage for the other contestant to answer or continue. There was al7 ways a fresh supply of dancers and participants to replenish those whose voices became hoarse. Thus the awitan became a vociferous display and contest of folk dance, song, poetry, humor, and much wit. Jr is difficult to ascertain how folk poetry came to be. It could have originated from some deep emotional feeling in man. Such a stimulation might be in the form of grief over the loss of a beloved. Thus, the Iloko dungaw is not merely a lament similar to the Tagalog taghoy or panambitan, but it is emotionally charged with poetry in the truest sense of the word. The dung-aw is a stylized lamentation which recites the story of the deceased, his per sonal history, his achievements, and sometimes an apology for his February 1960 47 failures and misconduct. Any at tempt to record the dung-aw is beset with difficulties. An intruder will invariably produce self-cons ciousness on tne part of the high ly-aroused poet, a disturbance such as this often affecting the spon taneity of the sentiment and the How of id^as of the grief-stricken mourner. For this reason we are not aware of any really good text in Iloko taken down freshly and directly from the fullness of the poet’s grief. Among the Igorots of eastern Benguet, the same custom exists. One such lamentation was record ed and translated into English. According to the account written for us by Father Alphonse Claerhoudt, as soon as the man had breathed his last, the women be gan pounding rice below the nouse, picking up the rhythm of his life with the sound of pound ing pestles. Meanwhile near the body of the dead man lay the wife. She did not look at her hus band’s face nor at his body. She sobbed and gave way to her sor row and let flow all the tears in the heart. Oh pity me, oh you my brother! Oh pity me, oh you my husband! You died, alas, oh you my brother! You died, alas, oh you my husband! What’s left to me, and what remains there? To me, a poor and useless creature? They all, yes all, they will forget me Who was to you just like a baby! No never can I stop my weeping Forever would I cry, forever, forever, If crying made me not ashamed! And when I think now and remember That nothing, nothing to console ye I can present to you my husband, No, never can I stop my weeping Forever would I cry, forever. It is true, our work was always heavy, And ’twas perhaps our sorry fate In poverty to work and live! We did our best and slaved together To raise some pigs and feed some cattle. But we had none of ours, you know it, No we had none to us belonging! Oh brother, patience, oh weep not, brotner, Because your sister gives you nothing Of all we work’d for once together. I turn’d the kettle on the ashes, 48 Panorama As signal, yes, a sorry signal, Of poverty we always lived in! Alas, our nope is gone forever, With me remains not e’en the slightest! No, never can I stop my weeping, Forever, would I cry, forever If crying made me not asnamed!, ttention might be called to several thipgs in this con nection: the elementary passion aroused in the bosom of a be reaved one; the innate response manifested in the natural flow of feeling, the outburst coming from the lips of an individual without training; and the outward mani festation resulting in poetry and song at the same time. The stu dent of the beginnings of litera ture will find no better example of spontaneous poetry as in this exceptional instance where grief bleeds the heart and the heart bursts into genuine poetry. Some authors believe that in folk sayings may be found the early beginnings of folk poetry. Folk sayings are short but they carry the load of a thought. Con sider for instance the Tagalog say ing which runs like this: Ang pakikisindi Daan ng pakiktbangi. In prosaic terms this simply means that acquaintance might breed close friendship—and the Filipino husband or wife does not like this. The rendition is too naive and does not carry the rich imaginery implied in the original. The folks have other outlets for dressing up their ideas in fig urative speech. This may be seen in their riddles. Whereas a Bikol would disguise the mushroom like this: Harong co sa buclod saro an tokod, My house on the hill has but a single post— his Tagalog brother would more fully describe it thus by juxtaposi tion— May binti, walang hita; May tuktok, walang mukha. He has a calf but no thigh; He has a head but no face. Another example might be giv en to show the simplicity of folk description. Whereas the Igorot would regard the three heads of stone as ‘ houses facing each other that cannot be burned,” the Bikol would prefer to represent them as "three brothers who have but one name,” and the Tagalog would say it in this wise— Tatlong magkakapatid, Sing-iitim and dibdib. Three brothers (or sisters) With equally black breasts. A naughty boy or girl would just change the "breasts’7 to "anus” and you have a hot contest in riddles. Children would recall every riddle and pit their memory one against the other in a preco cious display of wit and banter. Many never get the correct an swers, but in time they learn some February 1960 49 of them, and thus unknowingly they become the effective carriers of folk humor. The riddle contest may proceed smoothly and the sources may seem inexhaustible until some rogue would pop up with a riddle having a double meaning, such as the following in Tagalog— Malayo pa ang sibat Nakanganga na ang sugat. The spear has hardly been aimed, But the wound gaps wide open. Of course this would at once arouse a cry of objection from the virgins, ana while they may not actually recoil, this may be the signal for the end of tne game. Bugtungan or riddle-contests are held during wakes, or even dur ing baptismal parties and other social gatherings. (T herb are many other mani1 festations of folk poetry as the talinhaga and palaisipan which are forms of the riddle; the cLdit, bibit, and karagatan which are ri tualistic or religious in nature; and the duplo and sabalan for popular poets who have mastered tne poe tic art as only provincial poets can—adhering to classical forms, rigid beats, romantic or common place themes, and florid style. These poets are well versed in the contents of the corridos and the Pasion, and in the lives of the saints, and are adept in the mani pulation of words, in the use of the rejoinder and the repartee. These folk types had their hey day in Tagalog oral literature, but only the duplo found acceptance in the popular literature of con temporary Philippines. As now practiced, the duplo has deve loped into the Balagtasan—a lite rary type as remarkable for its exhuberance as its ancestor was for its excrescence, a poetical con test between two parties which may have one or more poets each defending a side of some urbane or absurd subject. For this reason it will decline for want of a better muse. Folk literature is the fruition of the creative mind of the mass of the people in a preliterate so ciety. The people are familiar, as a rule, witJT their floating litera ture. This is so because they have a part in its making,, in its trans mission and preservation. The lore of the group is the property of all; it is a part of the primi tive man’s culture. Indeed tne socalled “uncivilized” man may often be more cultured than his modem brothers, for he is steeped in the literature people and is more familiar with his own native lore. really of his 50 Panorama
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