2013.8 journal of literature and art studies

Journal of Literature

and Art Studies

Volume 3, Number 8, August 2013 (Serial Number 21)

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Publication Information: Journal of Literature and Art Studies is published monthly in hard copy (ISSN 2159-5836) and online (ISSN 2159-5844) by David Publishing Company located at 3592 Rosemead Blvd #220, Rosemead, CA 91770, USA Aims and Scope: Journal of Literature and Art Studies, a monthly professional academic journal, covers all sorts of researches on literature studies, art theory, appreciation of arts, culture and history of arts and other latest findings and achievements from experts and scholars all over the world. Editorial Board Members: Eric J. Abbey, Oakland Community College, USA Andrea Greenbaum, Barry University, USA Punam Madhok, East Carolina University, USA Carolina Conte, Jacksonville University, USA Maya Zalbidea Paniagua, Universidad La Salle, Madrid, Spain Mary Harden, Western Oregon University, USA Lisa Socrates, University of London, United Kingdom Herman Jiesamfoek, City University of New York, USA Maria O’Connell, Texas Tech University, USA Manuscripts and correspondence are invited for publication. You can submit your papers via Web Submission, or E-mail to [email protected], [email protected]. Submission guidelines and Web Submission system are available at http://www.davidpublishing.org, www.davidpublishing.com. Editorial Office: 3592 Rosemead Blvd #220, Rosemead, CA 91770, USA Tel: 1-323-984-7526, 323-410-1082 Fax: 1-323-984-7374, 323-908-0457 E-mail: [email protected], [email protected] Copyright©2013 by David Publishing Company and individual contributors. All rights reserved. David Publishing Company holds the exclusive copyright of all the contents of this journal. In accordance with the international convention, no part of this journal may be reproduced or transmitted by any media or publishing organs (including various websites) without the written permission of the copyright holder. Otherwise, any conduct would be considered as the violation of the copyright. The contents of this journal are available for any citation, however, all the citations should be clearly indicated with the title of this journal, serial number and the name of the author. Abstracted/Indexed in: Database of EBSCO, Massachusetts, USA Chinese Database of CEPS, Airiti Inc. & OCLC Chinese Scientific Journals Database, VIP Corporation, Chongqing, P.R.C. Ulrich’s Periodicals Directory LLBA Database of ProQuest Summon Serials Solutions Subscription Information: Price (per year): Print $420 Online $300 Print and Online $560 David Publishing Company 3592 Rosemead Blvd #220, Rosemead, CA 91770, USA Tel: 1-323-984-7526, 323-410-1082. Fax: 1-323-984-7374, 323-908-0457 E-mail: [email protected]

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Journal of Literature and Art Studies

Volume 3, Number 8, August 2013 (Serial Number 21)

Contents

Literature Studies

Communicating to the Religiously Secure: Kierkegaard, Luke, and Indirect Communication 461

Bruce Edward Baloian

Does Love Forgive Everything? Sexual Assault as an Attack Which Is Normalized in

Turkish Television Series 469

N. Aysun Akıncı Yüksel

Art Studies

Myths About Rock Art 482

Robert G. Bednarik

Törnudd’s and Siukonen’s Methodical Starting Points of Music Pedagogy in the Field of

Educational Trends 501

Katri-Helena Rautiainen

From a Local Jazz Club to the Best Venue in the World: Montmartre Jazz House,

Copenhagen, 1959-1976 512

Frank Büchmann-Møller

Special Research

The Modals as Pragmatic Softening Devices: Evidence From Late Modern English Grammar

and Manner Books 518

Hiroshi Obara

Writing as Painting: Creative Scholarly Writing From Hélène Cixous’ Post-structuralism and

Maurice Merleau-Ponty’s Body Phenomenology 525

Virpi Yliraudanjoki

Journal of Literature and Art Studies, ISSN 2159-5836 August 2013, Vol. 3, No. 8, 461-468

Communicating to the Religiously Secure:

Kierkegaard, Luke, and Indirect Communication

Bruce Edward Baloian

Azusa Pacific University, Azusa, USA

Familiar material can be seen through fresh eyes when approached by those outside of our discipline. Soren

Kierkegaard’s (1962) work from the late 19th century helped a multitude of theologians re-evaluate their

understanding of the New Testament (1992) and influenced many in the realm of philosophy in the opening half of

the 20th century. It is possible that his work could shed new light on our understanding of the Controversy Sections

in the Gospels between Jesus and the Pharisees. Kierkegaard’s attempt to help those caught in “Christendom” move

to “Christianity” will be compared with the “Gospel of Luke”’s presentation of Jesus attempting to move the

Pharisees to true faith. Structural Analysis, an adaptation of Form Criticism, will be employed to demonstrate that

the Gospel’s presentation of Jesus’ approach to the Religiously Secure parallels that of Kierkegaard.

Keywords: Kierkegaard, Luke, indirect communication, Religiously Secure

Introduction

Established church goers or prominent Synagogue attendees can be the hardest people to introduce to God1

(Buber, 1964, pp. 102-113). In their eyes, they are moral and spiritual, and thus religiously self-secure. The

dilemma is how to tell them they are caught in the delusion that they are believers. Soren Kierkegaard attempted

to help this type of person during his day. As his goal was to awaken self-confident, deluded and proud Danish

Church attendees, he could be a guide for our efforts to appropriate what the Gospels teach us to do for the

religiously self-secure in our churches.

Kierkegaard’s Indirect Communication

Much of Kierkegaard’s writing employed an “indirect communication” procedure but it was towards the

end of his career that he made this method more explicit in his The Point of View for My Work as an Author: A

Report to Histor (Kierkegaard, 1962, pp. 22-28). In his understanding, an indirect approach was necessitated by

the particular situation of the Danish Church. His Danish audience was culturally “Christian”, but turned a dull

Bruce Edward Baloian, professor, Dr. of Philosophy, Department of Biblical Studies, Azusa Pacific University.

1 The Hasidic masters would agree. They say there is hope for one of two extremes among men. One type is wholly evil. He knows his Lord, yet deliberately defies him. The other type believes he is wholly righteous, and has a good reputation. He studies, prays incessantly, and fasts, but he toils in vain, for he has no true faith. He who is all evil can be cured when he wakens to the Turning. He can turn to God with a whole heart and beg God to point the way to the light. The other does not have the possibility of recognizing the greatness of his Creator and the true nature of service because, in his own eyes, he is righteous. How can he turn? This is a paraphrase of Martin Buber who has translated sayings from the Hasidic masters (Martin, 1964, pp. 102-103).

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COMMUNICATING TO THE RELIGIOUSLY SECURE 462

ear to any discussion of the penetrating truths of real Christianity. Kierkegaard (1962) believed that indirect

communication was required for those who were, to paraphrase his famous words, part of “Christendom” but

were not real “Christians”. Being under the illusion that they were Christians, Kierkegaard (1962) believed “an

illusion can never be destroyed directly, and only by indirect means can it be radically removed” (p. 24). He

understood we needed to “approach from behind the person who is under an illusion” (pp. 24-25). A more

contemporary manner of stating this would be to say we must “get behind” their defense mechanisms before we

could have hope of successfully challenging someone to change.

The Communicator

Kierkegaard’s (1962) approach focused as much on the indirect communicator as it did on the procedure

of indirect communication. He believed that the teacher had to discipline their disposition to be patient and

humble (p. 25). Such humility might necessitate looking less pious or less spiritually impressive (Kierkegaard,

1962, p. 24)2. Setting aside how spiritual one appeared put the indirect communicator in better position to

focus on the points of view or innermost thoughts of his audience. Focusing on others took courage but it had

a source—it was in the “fear and trembling” before God.

The Procedure

Humility mentioned above was a part of the procedure and surprisingly, Kierkegaard encouraged the

necessary humility to employ a form of deception. This is an alarming proposal to hear from a serious Christian,

but deception can take several forms. First, Kierkegaard proposed that we deliberately appear to be less Christian

or less pious than those caught in their deluded piety as such humility helps us get behind the defense mechanism

of the one deluded. Second, he proposed that we start out by appearing to be the pupil: “to be a teacher in the right

sense is to be a learner” (Kierkegaard, 1962, pp. 29-30). The student is enticed to listen because they felt

empowered, not attacked.

Kierkegaard (1962) repeatedly stated that the communicator was not to have “might”. The procedure

was not to try to dominate or force belief on the deluded and thus we were to never seek a position of

supremacy3. Since true faith cannot be compelled, we could, however, compel someone caught in illusion to

take notice. Once a person took notice, then that person had to judge or was compelled to make a decision and

then at the right time the communicator had to press forward quickly and nimbly with the truth (Kierkegaard,

1962, p. 26).

In short, the “indirect approach” began with us being dedicated to truly helping the religiously

self-righteous and with us being bathed in “fear and trembling”. Thus, we could become free enough to humble

ourselves beneath the self-deluded. This deliberate choice to appear less spiritual was in part a deliberately

deceptive act, but it disarmed and caught the person off guard. It was in this way that we could “come behind”

or “lower” defense mechanisms that a direct approach would raise. Not imposing our views on another, we

were to force our audience to “take notice”, compelled them to form an opinion or made a judgment and then

sprang the trap. This sounds a bit ethereal and Kierkegaard gave several examples but instead of giving his, we

will look at the Gospel of Luke.

2 “Even to the extent that one is not even considered a Christian at all”. 3 “A genuine martyr never used his might but strove by the aid of impotence”.


Luke’s Employment of the Indirect Communication Method

The Gospels often record Jesus dealing with the religiously self-secure of His day which took the form of the

Pharisees, Sadducees, and Scribes. A particular example of this and a demonstration of Kierkegaard’s method is

found in a story Luke records of Jesus attending a formal dinner of Pharisees (7:36-50) that was interrupted by a

prostitute4. Prior to this example, in Luke 5:20-24, 30-39, and 6:1-11, we learn that opposition to Jesus had been

building among the conservative religious leadership5. However we may feel towards such people Luke presents

them fairly, for despite their antagonism to Jesus, the Pharisees were willing to have dialogue and fellowship with

Jesus which a dinner invitation in that culture suggests6.

The First Accusation

Accepting their offer, it is clear Jesus wanted to convert them to a higher view of religion, something much

more in line with the Hebrew Bible (1984) and wanting them to see clearly who He was. In this episode, Jesus did

not preach or rail against the Pharisees, but walked onto their turf, into one of their homes, and dealt directly with

them. Humbly, He dealt directly with them in one sense and indirectly in another.

As alarming as it sounds, Jesus’ approach began with deception7 and the deception entailed what Jesus

allowed to happen. Learning of Jesus’ attendance at the banquet, a prostitute entered the room and began to

grovel at His feet. Weeping at His feet she wet them with her tears and wiped them with the hair of her head,

finally kissing them. Then she anointed His feet with perfume.

What she had done, from one point of view, was touching. This woman was truly repenting. She repented

not merely in words, but in deeds just as Israel’s great prophets begged Israel to do. In a poor society, perfume

was seldom found among the average woman, but only among the rich, and of course, among prostitutes who

used it in that warm climate to make themselves more attractive to customers. In addition, her hair, an important

aspect of feminine attractiveness in Middle Eastern society (witness the covering of a woman’s hair to this day in

Arab culture), was made filthy as she washed his feet. Astoundingly, she was giving up the tools of her trade in a

true act of repentance. She did something that would bring tears to every true rabbi, priest, or preacher’s eyes.

What Jesus allowed the woman to do was, from another point of view, startling. In that tense atmosphere, He

allowed her to touch Him and being regarded as a holy man, a Rabbi, at that time such a thing was not done. It

was scandalous. It was also a bit deceptive in that Jesus’ action allowed His host to view Him as spiritually

inferior.

4 Luke called the woman a “sinner”, but see I. Howard Marshall, The Gospel of Luke. (1978, p. 308), who remarks that she was no doubt a prostitute and most other commentators agree, i.e., see Joseph A. Fitzmyer, The Gospel According to Luke (I-IX), (1979. pp. 688-689) and the list of views there. 5 See also Luke 7:30, where Luke directly tells us that the Pharisees (the conservative, bible believing leaders of that day) had rejected John whom Jesus was praising. 6 Their offer was proved to be disingenuous as the story unfolded and Jesus was aware of it. 7 This approach is not new to Luke. The first recorded speech in Genesis that is addressed directly to humans is an indirect approach: But the Lord God called to the man, Where are you?” Certainly, God knew where Adam and Eve were. He was not calling for an angelic search party to find the humans who He could not locate in the foliage of the Garden of Eden. God was calling directly to Adam and Eve: He knew exactly where they were and not only spatially. However, He acted like He was ignorant of their location. The feigning of ignorance was used to get His audience to express their thoughts and begin a dialogue. See also 3:11 in the second sentence of this verse God asked the man if he had eaten from the forbidden tree. Of course, God knew what he had done but feigned ignorance in order to give the human a chance to repent. When the greatest power in the universe, condescends to speak to any human being there must be “hidden glory”.


Kierkegaard (1962) said:

… The helper must first humble himself under him he would help, and therewith must understand that to help does not mean to be a sovereign but to be a servant, that to help does not mean to be ambitious, but to be patient, that to help means to endure for the time being the imputation that one is in the wrong and does not understand what the other understands. (pp. 27-28)

Jesus’ action prompted the first of two accusations to be leveled against Him at the dinner. His scandalous

action induced Simon to think Jesus was either ignorant or a fraud.

When the Pharisee who had invited him saw this, he said to himself: “If this man were a prophet He would

know who is touching him and what kind of woman she is—that she is a sinner”8.

Placing Himself humbly beneath Simon with His acceptance of this woman Simon was convinced he was

more perceptive9. When Jesus let the woman touch Him it made Him seem imperceptive, something a prophet

was not supposed to be, and thus by deduction Jesus could be considered a fraud10.

Jesus had forced Simon to make a judgment and once He had Simon’s attention the follow-up was

composed of three sections. The first two parts were dialogues with His host (7:40-43) which Jesus controlled

by the leading questions He asked. The dialogues compelled Simon to move being a passive listener to being

part of the educational process. In the first dialogue, Jesus asked Simon to give Him permission to

speak—“Simon, I have something to say to you” (7:40). Simon’s only publicly correct response would be to

give Jesus such permission.

The second dialogue also began with Jesus’ initiative (Kierkegaard, 1962, pp. 26-27)11 and it took the form

of a story about two debtors12. One debtor owed 10 times more than the other and both were unable to repay their

debt. Both debtors were said to be graciously forgiven. Then Jesus induced Simon to make another decision with

the question: “Now which of them will love him more?” (7:43). Forcing Simon to take notice when Jesus allowed

the woman to touch Him, Jesus now forced Simon to make a decision.

The little story or parable that Simon was asked to comment on subtly portrayed both Simon and the

prostitute as sinners. It also subtly showed Simon that Jesus not only knew who the woman was but also who

Simon was as, both Simon and the woman were sinners. However, the sting was mitigated by the manner in

which Jesus did it. The manner was one of excessive humility, but not self-congratulating humility. Even the

humility was subtle.

The humility was displayed by Jesus employing a familiar pedagogical form used in that culture. It is found

often in the Talmud (1996) and other extensive records of rabbinical discussion that have been preserved. Jesus

8 Luke 7:39 (NIV, as all quotes will be from that version). 9 This same type of deception is used in Luke 24:13-19 when Jesus addressed the disillusioned disciples who were walking Easter morning on the road to Emmaus. His approach there was also to feign ignorance when He joined them in their walk, and they did not recognize Him. He opened the conversation with: What are you discussing together as you walk along? Though He was chided for being so uniformed of current events, Jesus humbly persisted with another seeming display of His lack of awareness. He asked another question: What things? Here as elsewhere in Luke, Jesus is portrayed as humbly asking questions of finite humans even though as God He was omniscient. 10 The author owes this insight to Isaac Webb in personal conversation in the fall of 2012. 11 “The one who is disposed to help bears all the responsibility and makes all the effort”. 12 N. T. Wright, says a “heads-on attack would certainly fail, the parable hides the wisdom of the serpent behind the innocence of the dove, gaining entrance and favour (sic) which can then be used to change assumptions which the hearer would otherwise keep hidden away for safety”. The New Testament And the People of God (Christian Origins and the Question of God) (1992, p. 38).


had slyly induced Simon to use it. Often a story, or a biblical quote or biblical story was presented followed by a

request from the student to the Rabbi for insight. It more or less took the following form: “Rabbi, how does it read

to you?” (Straus, 1996, pp. 48, 128, 138). Jesus made Simon the Rabbi. Jesus put Simon in the superior position

as the one who gave the interpretation or solution.

Simon’s answer in regard to which debtor would love the benefactor more had forced him to say: “I

suppose the one who had the bigger debt canceled” (Luke, 7:40). Jesus quickly followed with the humble

acknowledgement of Simon’s wisdom: “You have judged correctly”13. Simon had agreed that a person such

as the woman before him had the potential to fulfill the great Shemah better than him. “Hear, O Israel: The

LORD our God, the LORD is one. Love the LORD your God with all your heart and with all your soul and

with all your strength”14.

Simon, who had passed judgment on the woman and on Jesus for His acceptance of this woman, had the

tables turned on him in two ways. First, by his own judgment of who could love more and secondly by the

evidence drawn from the comparison of his own actions with hers.

Then he turned towards the woman and said to Simon, “Do you see this woman? I came into your house. You did not give me any water for my feet, but she wet my feet with her tears and wiped them with her hair. You did not give me a kiss, but this woman, from the time I entered, has not stopped kissing my feet. You did not put oil on my head, but she has poured perfume on my feet”. (Luke, 40:40-43)

Kierkegaard (1962) reminded us that the indirect communicator must be alert for the right time to bring his

point home.

“Therefore, he must have everything in readiness, though without impatience, with a view to bringing

forward the religious promptly, as soon as he perceives that he has his readers with him, so that with the

momentum gained…” (Kierkegaard, 1962, p. 26).

Jesus carefully, patiently, and indirectly approached Simon so as to bring him, as much as possible, to a

point of seeing for himself where he was spiritually.

Simon then heard the words: “Therefore, I tell you, her many sins have been forgiven—for she loved much”

(7:47). This statement clearly showed that Jesus did not approve of prostitution, and that He was more in line with

the heart of the God of the Hebrew Bible: Jesus proclaimed the love the God of Israel had for sinners.

The Second Accusation: Luke 7:48-50

In the conclusion of this dinner episode, Luke records that Jesus again caused His audience to take notice

and to make a judgment. It is odd that Jesus did this as He had won the day. Simon had made a judgment and

falsely accused Jesus of being a fraud, or at the very least, imperceptive of whom the woman was. In response,

Jesus showed Simon his error but also showed Simon the way to the heart of God. What Jesus did was brilliant

and humbly done. Love does not seek victory when dealing with those damned by their illusion. Kierkegaard

(1962) said:

13 See also Luke 10:28 when the “expert” in the law stood up to test Him. Jesus again forced the man to judge and make a commitment, because Jesus had placed him in the role of the Rabbi. Jesus’ response to the scholar’s answer was very similar to His reply to Simon: “You have answered correctly”, Jesus replied: “Do this and you will live”. Again, Jesus had taken the challenger’s own statement as the basis for the spiritual challenge. 14 Deuteronomy 6:5. This is widely regarded as the central command of the Old Testament.


If, however, I am disposed to plume myself on my greater understanding, it is because I am vain or proud, so that at bottom, instead of benefiting him, I want to be admired. But all true effort to help begins with self-humiliation; the helper must first humble himself under him he would help… (p. 27)

Jesus had proved to be an excellent debater possessed with a quick and agile mind who was fully fluent with

the heart and intent of the Torah. However, He came to serve, not be served, and so He pressed on with a

statement that seemed, at first glance, to be redundant.

Jesus said to the woman: “Your sins are forgiven” (7:48). The proverb of the preceding verse had already

implied she was forgiven, so why did Jesus say this? The answer is found when one looks at the structure of the

whole passage. It is composed of two sets of three: alarming action, accusation, and answer15. In the first

accusation cycle, Jesus’ action of allowing the woman to touch Him caused Simon to take notice and utter to

himself an accusation against Jesus. Then Jesus answered Simon’s hidden thoughts and indirectly showed Simon

where he could be helped.

In the second accusation cycle, Jesus’ statement in verse 48 was again an action that forced those present to

take notice (7:49): The other guests began to say among themselves: “Who is this who even forgives sins?” His

wider audience now had to make a judgment, and they were convinced of their superiority to Jesus’ piety. In their

eyes, Jesus had moved into the realm of blasphemy. Only God could forgive sins. Jesus had put Himself in a

much more difficult position than the allowance of the woman’s touch.

Twice Jesus had forced those who were caught in illusion to take notice, and twice they made judgments or

accusations against Him. Twice Jesus answered, however, in the second answer, there was a difference. The

difference was not what Jesus did, but what He did not do. He did not answer the second accusation against His

person. At least, it was not answered directly. Luke had already shown his readers that Jesus knew how to answer

them as the same accusation had been leveled against Him when He forgave the paralytic lowered into His

presence by friends in Luke, 5:20-21.

When Jesus saw their faith, He said, “Friend, your sins are forgiven”. The Pharisees and the teachers of

the law began thinking to themselves: “Who is this fellow who speaks blasphemy? Who can forgive sins but

God alone?”.

In that story, Jesus openly answered their hidden critique in 5:22-26, but in our story He chose not to.

The religious leaders’ objection was a reasonable one and Jesus must have thought so as it was answered in

Luke 5. Often Jesus defended either Himself or his actions. See examples of this in Luke 5:30-32, 5:33-35, and

11:14-2216. Since Luke repeatedly presented Jesus as logically debating with His detractors, what could have

motivated Him not to justify this action?

A choice had been made. Jesus chose to serve the woman not Himself and thus in (7:50) His response was

not addressed to His detractors, but to the woman—“Your faith has saved you; go in peace”. Many

commentators feel Luke was portraying Jesus as showing respect to the woman. For example, I. H. Marshall

(1978) correctly said: “Luke could not leave the woman as simply the object of a discussion between Jesus and

15 Two alarming actions are: allowing the woman to touch him in 7:37-38 and the controversial taking of the role of forgiving sins in 7:48. The two accusations are: in 7:39 by Simon and in 7:49 by the other guests. The two answers are: 7:40-47 in response to Simon and 7:50 which is surprisingly not addressed to His accusers. 16 See also Matthew 11:22-28. where Matthew gives his readers examples of Jesus defending Himself on this same issue.


the Pharisee, and so his story had to contain some saying addressed to her” (Marshall, 1978, p. 307). In line

with Marshall, we could go farther and say this woman needed to hear directly that she was forgiven and that

she had other pressing needs.

Jesus was portrayed in the Gospels as being acutely aware of what others were thinking so it was reasonable

to infer that Jesus was aware of this more serious accusation. However, Luke recorded Jesus as passing up the

chance to defend His reputation. It seemed like He had other priorities. Jesus had before Him a vulnerable woman.

The woman knew she was despised and looked down upon, and she must have been embarrassed. Luke portrayed

Jesus as seeing the woman’s importance and value as equal to that of the souls of the religious leaders who were

trapped in illusion. So He took what was despised, her touching a Rabbi and glorified it. Jesus made her out to be

the model of hospitality. In addition, she was assured by inference and then directly told (at great cost to His

standing in the room) that she was forgiven. Finally, she was taught something of enormous value in the opening

phrase of verse 50 and then graciously dismissed (to get her out of that hideous atmosphere).

She was dismissed but in a manner that let her know He was not embarrassed or angry with her actions,

but that she was on good terms with Him. She was dismissed in peace or in Shalom. “Shalom” means in

Hebrew something much closer to “communion” or “fellowship” than what we more commonly mean in the

English word “peace”. It is the “Sholamim”, or the “peace offering” in English, that is the final sacrifice before

a pilgrim went home after coming to God to sacrifice where God caused His Name to dwell. Israelite

worshippers were to go home in harmony with God, with each other, and with the clergy symbolized by sharing

a meal with one another17.

Finally, she needed to know what her part was that brought about her salvation. It was her faith, signified by

her courage to brave the judgmental atmosphere of the religious leaders of her own nation. She risked humiliation

because she had hope and faith. Perhaps, there was something about Jesus of Nazareth that was different. It could

be that in her unconscious mind, she sensed that God was different than what the religious leaders portrayed. She

risked that Jesus was truly like the real God18.

His pronouncing forgiveness was technically blasphemy if Jesus was seen by Luke as merely a man. It was

revelatory if Jesus was more, and was what the Church would soon proclaim. He was fully man, but also fully

God. His dangerous pronouncement was both helpful to the woman and His claiming of the prerogative to forgive

sins was potentially helpful to the religious leaders. Indirectly, it revealed the central message of Christianity: the

Incarnation. God had come to earth in human form in the Person of Jesus of Nazareth. Perhaps, they could be

moved to see the kindness towards the woman as an image of the kindness of God. Perhaps, they could see by her

courage that was necessary in their own lives to have faith. It would start with seeing sinners differently and

follow with seeing who Jesus was and then risk the loss of their reputations and their very lives that both

perceptions would entail. The message was there plainly and clearly for the woman, but for those caught in

illusion the message was subtle and indirect.

17 It is easy to see why Jesus would institute the central sacrament of the Christian Church containing the elements of eating a meal with God. It was to become the dearest rite the Church would possess. 18 There are seven passages in Luke (5:20, 7:9, 7:50, 8:25, 8:48, 17:19, and 18:42) where Jesus pronounces the presence or the lack of faith. In all seven, of which this is one, one could easily substitute the word “risk” for “faith” and the passage would make perfect sense. Even in the discussion of how to obtain faith in Luke 7:1-10, the risk to favor the little ones and the risk to believe one could be happy if one forgave their enemies (17:1-4) fits this pattern.


Conclusions

Kierkegaard’s indirect approach demands a very clear thinking and creative mind to accomplish. One not

only has to understand where their audience’s mind set is, but also subtly and creatively designs an approach that

comes from behind the religious person’s defense mechanisms. Luke presents Jesus as carefully telling a story in

such a way that causes Simon to make a decision without realizing that his participation in the story of the two

debtors was setting a trap for himself.

Kierkegaard’s approach also demands a great deal of discipline to keep under control one’s passions and

pride in allowing oneself to seem inferior to those he wishes to communicate with. The humility necessary to let

the opponent seem smarter, wiser, and more pious, so as to draw them into a deeper discussion is difficult to do.

Jesus is presented as humble enough to let Simon accuse Him of being a religious fraud and not to take offense,

but rather let Simon assume the superior position of a rabbi making a judgment. When one’s personal integrity is

attacked, it is very difficult to stay focused on the needs of the attacker instead of one’s wounded self-esteem.

Kierkegaard’s indirect communication technique demands of the communicator a deep love for those who

are self-righteous and demands a piety infused with humility. The key to conquering one’s pride in Kierkegaard’s

approach is to deeply love those one wished to communicate with. For Kierkegaard, concern of the audience

helps subdue pride. Luke presents Jesus as deeply interested in Simon’s spiritual well being so as to humbly let

Simon be the “teacher”. Even more remarkable is when Jesus is accused of blasphemy He chooses to dismiss the

opportunity to defend His actions but to focus on the vulnerable woman before Him. He does not address His

accusers but speaks only to the woman.

A quick, subtle, and creative mind, focused on the needs of others and in control of one’s pride dominated

Kierkegaard’s indirect approach. It takes religious discourse to a very high level. Luke’s portrayal of Jesus as a

role model for His followers when trying to persuade the Religiously Secure displays all these characteristics.

References

Buber, M. (Trans.). (1964). Ten rungs: Hasidic sayings (pp. 102-103). New York: Shocken Books. Fitzmyer, J. A. (1079). The Gospel according to Luke (I-IX ) (pp. 688-689). Garden City: Doubleday. Holy Bible: New International Version. (1984). Luke 7:36-50. Colorado Springs: International Bible Society. Kierkegaard, S. (1962). The point of view for my work as an author: A report to history (pp. 22-38). New York: Harper and Row. Marshall, I. H. (1978). The Gospel of Luke (pp. 307-308). Grand Rapids: Eerdmans. Strauss, R. D. (Trans. & Ed.). (1996). The Talmud (Vol. XV, pp. 48-49, 128-130, 138-140). New York: Random House. Wright, N. T. (1992). The new testament and the people of God (Christian Origins and Question of God) (p. 38). Minneapolis:

Fortress Press.


Does Love Forgive Everything? Sexual Assault as an Attack

Which Is Normalized in Turkish Television Series

N. Aysun Akıncı Yüksel

Anadolu University, Eskişehir, Turkey

Encroachment, which can generally be defined as appropriation of the other’s right, comes first as one of the most

traumatic incidents among sexual crimes. When the statistical data about rape are examined in Turkey, it is seen

that the ratios of rape incidents are at an extent that cannot be underestimated. The problem of rape is covered in

some series which are broadcast on TV and popular among wide range of audience in Turkey. Fatmagül’ünSuçu

Ne?, Öyle Bir Geçer Zaman Ki and İffet, which are among these series, are chosen as the sample in this study. Since

it is certainly one of the important functions of media to raise awareness of the public, dealing with rape in series

and films as a social problem is usual and even crucial. However, the basic issue here is how this incident is

handled and what kind of message is given to the audience, who takes the main characters as model. The aim of this

study is to explore how the rape incidents are covered and how the solution is reached in these aforementioned

series. In this study, these three television series are examined through purposeful sampling method and also, the

answers to the questions mentioned as the aims of this study are analyzed through a feminist perspective. As a

result of this analysis, it has been found out that even though rape incident is one of the worst events a woman can

experience in these series, it is turned into a crime that can be forgiven and the reason of forgiving is love.

Keywords: rape, Turkish TV series, gender, Fatmagül’ün Suçu Ne?, Öyle Bir Geçer Zaman Ki, İffet

Introduction

Violence is a devastating action which includes using force and giving harm to the other. Wars, genocides,

inconceivable tortures which have occurred all through human history are the most apparent evidences of

violence. When the topic is the relationship between women and men, violence appears as one of the most

controversial concepts. Women, who are given a secondary position as a result of patriarchy, have been turned

into an entity that is oppressed, whose body and labor are gotten under control by men and used as an exchange

object. In spite of all the struggle exerted in order to change this situation, the traces of this tendency which

have been transferred historically have not vanished completely. When the prevalence of physical, sexual,

psychological and economic violence towards women is considered, it is seen that the judgment which has been

put forth is appropriate.

A General Perspective/Evaluation on Sexual Violence

Sexual violence in broad sense, specifically, rape appears as one of the most traumatic and devastating

kind of violence among the other kinds of violence practised on women. Without doubt, rape is not the

N. Aysun Akıncı Yüksel, associate professor, Department of Cinema and Television, Anadolu University.

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DOES LOVE FORGIVE EVERYTHING?

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violence only men exerted on women. However, because of the sample chosen in this study, the sexual

assault of men against women will be elaborated. Rape is one of the ways in which sex is used as a vehicle of

threat, suppression and governance (Solmuş, 2010, p. 21) and can be defined as a crime committed by men

through exerting dominance over women (Kahlor & Eastin, 2011, p. 216). Brownmiller’s (1984) evaluation

on rape is also striking:

In accordance with anatomy, due to the inevitable structure of the genitals, male of human kind was a natural predatory and female of human kind played the role of his natural prey. Woman, not only becomes the target of a totally disgusting physical invasion in which she cannot retaliate when it is required (that is to say; to rape someone in return for being raped), but also she can be exposed to death or injury as a result of such a merciless conflict without mentioning the condition of becoming pregnant and giving birth to a child that needs to be cared for. (p.16)

Although the invasive attitude which Brownmiller has mentioned represents the primitive ages, rape still

appears as a basic problem both throughout the world and in Turkey nowadays. In USA, according to the data

of Ministry of Justice, 55% of women in the country have been exposed to violence in some periods of their

lives. Twenty-five percent of women in Germany, 27% in Denmark, 22% in Norway, and 71% in Ethiopia have

experienced physical and/or sexual violence in some period in their lives. One in every two women in Thailand

is the victim of physical and/or sexual violence (Karal & Aydemir, 2012, pp. 44-46). In the report titled State of

Women in Turkey, which was published in April 2012 by Ministry of Family and Social Politics, Head Office

of Status of Women, essential findings and statistical data of the research regarded as official data as part of

Official Statistics Program of TÜİK (TUSF-Turkey Statistic Foundation) have been mentioned. The findings

obtained from this study are considerably striking. According to the research, the ratio of women throughout

Turkey who are exposed to physical violence by their husband or ex-husband is 39%. The ratio of women who

have experienced emotional violence in any period of their lives is 43.9%. The ratio of women who have been

exposed to only sexual violence is 15.3%. The ratio which indicates the physical and sexual violence which

have been experienced together is 41.9%. While the ratio of physical violence is 38% in urban areas, it is 43%

in rural areas. The ratio of women who have got hurt as a result of the physical violence they have experienced

is 25%. The ratio of women who have been exposed to physical or sexual violence at least once and who

haven’t had any formal education is 55.7% and who have had high school and upper level of education is 27%.

The possibility of having health problems, thinking about committing, or trying suicide for women who have

experienced violence doubles at least. One in every 10 women has been exposed to physical violence during

her pregnancy. Sexual violence is experienced together with physical violence in many cases; 42% of women

have stated that they have been exposed to physical or sexual violence1. Seven percent of women have

indicated that they have been exposed to sexual abuse during their childhood (before the age 15). Not only

women who have had low level of education are exposed to violence, but also among women who have had a

higher level of education, three in every 10 women have been exposed to physical or sexual violence by their

husbands. Married women are exposed to violence most commonly by their husbands. The ratio of women who

1 Brownmiller (1984, p. 252) claimed that there have not been any reliable national statistical data about the crimes of rape and murder for a certain period in United States of America; because, the cases in which both of these crimes have been committed have been recorded as only murder. Similarly, Krebs, Breiding, Browne, and Warner (2011, p. 488) stated that 1069 women have been murdered according to the FBI data dated 2008. However, just as Brownmiller has put forth, these researchers have indicated that the connection between these assaults have not always been set adequately when there were more than one violence assaults towards victims. This possibility should be kept in mind not only for United States of America, but also for general situations as a case which should be considered.


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cannot tell to anybody about the violence they have experienced is 48.5%. Karal and Aydemir (2012, p. 28)

asserted from an appropriate perspective that sexual violence cannot be mentioned as easily as physical

violence; therefore, there might be lack of data in this subject. In our opinion, it is not possible to mention

easily about being raped in any country or culture.

According to the report of TUIK (TUSF) (2011, p. 34), the ratios related with experiencing any violence

among physical or sexual violence in any period of life decrease with the increase of education level of women.

However, being educated does not provide disappearance of violence totally. 55.7% of women, who have not

had formal education or have not finished primary school, have experienced one kind of violence among

physical or sexual violence in any period of their lives. The ratio of exposure to physical and sexual violence

among women who have had high school or upper level of education is 27%. When we consider the recent

period, 17.4% of women who have not had any education and 10% of women who have had high school and

upper level of education have experienced one kind of violence among physical or sexual violence.

In Turkey, among many rape incidents, a one and a half year old baby’s being raped by the lover of her

mother, young girls’ being collectively raped, rape incidents towards handicapped children and women;

moreover, animals’ such as dog, dug, and donkey being raped emerge as unforgettable cases which have been

publicized by media. All of these incidents prove that in Turkey, the devastating and invasive feature of these

rape incidents still continue just like in the primitive societies. At this point, the striking issue of these rape

incidents is that the attackers have mostly close relationship with the victim. For instance, in the incident that

has become a current issue in September 2012, after it has been realized that a 14-year-old hearing-impaired

young girl living in Edirne was pregnant, it has turned up in the investigations that she has been raped by a

group of men whose ages are between 42 and 72 and totally 13 people have been taken into custody as

suspects. There is also the brother of the young girl among these suspects. According to the data that have

become current issue in the General Meeting for Seeking Solution to the Problems of Women organized by

KADER (SWCA-Supporting Women Candidates Association), 55% of children between ages of 5-10 and 40%

of children between ages of 10-16 are victims of incest in Turkey. Fifty percent of subjects in incest incidents

are the victims’ own father and the others are uncles (fathers’ brother), brother-in-laws, brothers, grandfathers,

and uncles (mothers’ brother) respectively. Seventy-five percent of sexual attackers are familiar people (2004,

p. 57). The prominent issue in most of the studies carried out in this subject is that the rape of the husband or a

familiar person cannot be mostly made subject of complaint; it has rather been kept secret. When it is

remembered that the ratio of women who cannot tell anybody about the violence they have experienced is

48.5%, it can be inferred that the number of women who are victims of people close to them is far more than it

appears. It is even claimed that 90% of rape incidents have not been reported (AMARGI, September 14th,

2008). Without doubt, this situation is not only peculiar to Turkey. Godenzi (1992, pp. 85-86, 88) stated that,

in the year 1989 in which she has carried out her study, in many European countries, rape inside marriages

was not defined as crime legally. Five in 49 women interviewed in the study have been exposed to their

husbands’ sexual attack, one has been exposed to rape, the other 43 women have been exposed to sexual

abuse2. Thirty women among 49 women, who have participated in the study, have appealed to the police

2 The concepts are used as sexual attack (cinsel saldırı) and sexual abuse (cinsel tecavüz) in the translation of the book. Since the original book cannot be obtained, the difference between these two concepts is inexplicit. Hypothetically, it can be thought that there is physical violence together with rape in a sexual attack and there is only sexual intercourse without consent in sexual abuse. However, without any doubt, there is an act of violence in each case.


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because of sexual abuse; only three among them have complained about their husbands. Although there has

been a complaint, there has been no legal action related with these aforementioned three incidents. Moreover,

two of these three women have been exposed to offensive treatment by the police. The dominant feeling

among women is not horror or guilt; but being humiliated. In spite of that, the moment they have been

exposed to violence, they haven’t thought of escaping or asking for help. The idea that hinders them is that

nobody would believe in them. Therefore, they have chosen to give in the rape they have experienced with the

hope that their husbands would take pity on and behave fairly towards them. This situation has solidified the

power of their husbands. Hence, almost all of the women have been victims of systematic rape incidents that

have continued for years. McHugh and Frieze (2006, p. 127) stated that the main reason why women suffer is

women themselves; the opinion that they would not get a beating if they left their husbands is very common.

Feminist studies strive a lot to destroy the wrong judgment about these women who have been abused by their

husbands. Women who have been abused by their husbands cannot leave their houses and husbands due to the

fact that they do not have enough money or safe places to take shelter in, they do not want to lose their social

status or be isolated by their families and friends, they cannot cope with the feeling of being guilty or

unsuccessful. Krebs, Breiding, Browne, and Warner (2011, p. 487) had mentioned that one in every four

women (26%) has experienced one of the incidents which include attempt of being attacked by her life partner,

being threatened, being exposed to physical violence, or being forced to sexual intercourse without consent at

least once as a result of the study carried out in 18 states in United States of America with 70,156 adults3.

Godenzi (1992, p. 153) pointed out that attackers’ choosing a woman that they have already known in these

rape incidents is not a coincidence. When the attacker knows how much the victim could defend herself

during the attack and then, what she could do, he could decrease the possibility of risk and have an

advantageous position. Therefore, familiar women, friends, and especially wives are the most convenient

people as victims. The data which have been handled indicate that variables of country and time and cultural

differences do not lead to the change of violence incidents exerted on women.

Prejudices Towards Rape

Although rape is a trauma which is almost impossible to cope with for the victim, general and

conventional judgments towards the rapist make the rapist have a rightful position over the victim. Scully (1994)

indicated that the reasons of rape for the rapist are degraded to irresistible stimulation, sickness, and

participation of the victim and all these lead to the rapist’s being forgiven by suggesting that the attacker has

not been responsible from his own deeds. The belief that the attacker is actually sick and there is a

psychopathological case is considerably common. Without doubt, there are also some attackers who fit this

definition. However, it would be wrong to acknowledge this case as a generalization. Such a generalization

would put forward the assumption that offensive sexual behaviors of men are unconventional and exceptional.

Thus, sexual violence would be excluded from daily, “normal” world and accepted as a “specific” kind of

behavior by locating it as a state that could be experienced in an extraordinary or extreme position. As a result

of this, men who have a tendency towards sexual violence would be regarded as “exceptional” and the

possibility that they share any common qualities or similarities with the “normal” men is eliminated. However,

the researches indicate that great number of men who could be defined as “normal” have exerted sexual

3 In the same research, one in seven men (16%) has stated that he has been exposed to the same situation.


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violence extensively towards women in their lives, especially towards their wives. When the above-mentioned

ratios of incest victims or women having experienced both physical and sexual violence by their husbands are

considered, it could be seen that the attackers are not sporadic people; on the contrary, they are among men

whom we have seen around, we have been living together, we define as “normal”, and we want to trust the

most. Another striking example on this topic is the result of a questionnaire which has been applied to young

men in United States of America, most of whom belong to middle class and have been getting psychology

education. The ratio of the men who have answered “Yes” to the question: “If you were sure that you wouldn’t

get harmed, would you compel a woman to sexual intercourse?” is 50%. The research has been repeated more

than one time worrying about a possibility of a deviation. In any case, the ratio has never decreased below 50%;

it has even reached to 75% (Godenzi, 1992, pp. 150-151). If we evaluate this case in a sarcastic manner; if men

who rape are individuals having extraordinary impulses and qualities and suffering from psychopathologic

illness, then, in most of the societies, majority of men are psychologically ill. Therefore, the attacker who has

exerted sexual violence does not have to have a specific state in most cases. Scully’s (1994) words on this topic

are considerably impressive:

When it is assumed that behaviors including sexual violence are limited with a few “sick” men, the cure will be sought in medication, operation, shock theraphy or psychotheraphy in order to “cure” these few individuals. As for women, they would be able to find a remedy “for their own problems” by keeping away from these “several mentally ill people”. As it is seen, the psychopathological model towards rape eliminates the requirement of examining and transforming the factors which could trigger sexual violence towards women in society. Another result of defining responsibility in this way is that saving men from confronting rape as their own problems… In addition to this, the psychopathological model doesn’t explain why women are the “target” of the illness affecting only men in some societies. (p. 61)

Apart from this, another common and wrong conviction about rape is the myth that the woman who has

been exposed to rape has in fact deserved this or prepared the suitable atmosphere for this event. One of the

widespread rape myths is that the woman who has refused a sexual intercourse based on consent has produced

or caused rape. The other myth is that frivolous and infamous women or women wearing in a seductive way

invite rape (Kahlor & Eastin, 2011, p. 216). The state of being exposed to rape when sexual intercourse based

on consent is refused has also been mentioned by the women who have participated in Godenzi’s (1992)

above-mentioned study. When women give up the ritual in sexual intercourse and refuse the intercourse, they

have been forced by their husbands to perform their roles. This enforcement firstly has been in the form of

verbal threat and moral warning, and then in the form of causing psychological terror. When all these have not

worked, the resistance of women resulted in sexual violence; in other words, rape (Godenzi, 1992, p. 87).

The opinion that women with “certain” characteristics invite rape is quite a common conviction. This

judgment is not new. It has been thought throughout history that women have “deserved” rape due to various

reasons. During the Renaissance, in Italy, warriors called condottieri made up of noble men and known for their

heroism acquired fame by raping women mercilessly at their leisure time (Brownmiller, 1984, p. 373). The

Roman poet Ovid stated that he would enlist immediately on the condition that he were promised to have an

opportunity to rape women from Sabine (as cited in Brownmiller, 1984, p. 374). According to researchers

studying on England in Medieval period, the poems and romances written in that period put forward the idea

that the first thought of every knight who saw a woman alone and defenceless was attacking her (Brownmiller,

1984, p. 376). Among lowland Indians, a woman who was not protected by a man, who had been divorced, or

who was ribald and belligerent, or a woman who approached to the instruments which were kept in special


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association and represented the power of manhood for the men of Munduruku people in the middle Brazil

deserved to be raped collectively (Brownmiller, 1984, pp. 368-369). Without doubt, the idea that women

deserve rape cannot only be explained by limiting the subject to ethnic qualities or ancient times. For example,

between the years 1962-1964, when the Boston Strangler Albert DeSalvo, who was the subject of many

murders involving rape and among whose victims were old women, was traced, a study group consisting of

psychiatrists was formed to construct his profile. This group reached this common conviction about the victims

first being killed and then, being raped: “Old women are innocent victims; yet, young women might have

prepared the events they would experience” (Brownmiller, 1984, p. 260). At this point, the judgment that has

come into prominence as a subtext is the possibility that young victims behaved in manner to seduce the

attacker. This conviction leads inevitably to remission of the guilt of the attacker and even to the conclusion

that the main guilty ones are the young victims causing the attacker to lose his control because of their

attraction. Italian Supreme Court found the attacker not guilty considering the fact that the 16-year-old rape

victim was wearing tight blue jean on the day of the incident and the conclusion that it was not possible for the

attacker to take off the blue jean without the consent of the victim on July 10, 2008. According to the judge, if a

woman wears blue jean on the moment of the incident, it is impossible to rape this woman4. The judgment that

the woman has deserved rape is also one of the common thoughts in our country. One of the studies covered in

the General Meeting for Seeking Solution to the Problems of Women organized by KADER is the study which

has been carried out by Ege University Forensic Medicine Institute in 1997. According to this study, 12.5% of

50 forensic medicine experts, 6% of 85 psychologists, 10% of 100 lawyers, 17% of 80 judges and prosecutors,

and 33% of 100 policemen have said that “Some women deserve being raped”. In the same study, 18% of 85

psychologists, 40% of 305 judges, prosecutors and lawyers, and 66% of 100 policemen have said that “The

appearance and behavior of a woman cause rape” (2004, p. 58). The statement of Professor Orhan Çeker, who

is a lecturer in Theology Faculty in Selçuk University, has become a current issue and been discussed a lot via

media on 16 February, 2011. His statement includes a similar conviction. According to Çeker’s opinion, there

is woman in the center of the problem. When a woman wears low-cut dress, it will not be a surprise for her to

encounter such offensiveness. Çeker (2011) continued his words like that:

After seducing someone, it is not reasonable to complain about the result. It shouldn’t be understood that I support the criminals in this topic. Certainly, the crime which has been committed is extremely disgusting. However, the impact of the woman wearing low-cut and seducing dress is so great that it shouldn’t be underestimated in the man’s committing this crime. The man is definitely guilty about this subject; yet, if the guilt of woman is ignored, we can take a wrong step in the solution of the issue. Both sides are guilty in this incident. (as cited in Samancı, 2011)

On the official Internet site of AMARGI, in the article which was published on September 14, 2008 and

title of which was “Wrong Convictions and Truths About Rape”, existing prejudices and facts were covered.

Among the prejudices mentioned, the following expressions are quite thought-provoking: (1) Every woman has

a rape fantasy; (2) If the woman did not resist, this would not actually be a rape. Moreover, sexual assault is

impossible without the collaboration of the victim; (3) If the victim were not virgin, the incident would not

actually be considered as rape; (4) Rape would not cause trauma to the prostitutes; nevertheless, it is their job;

(5) Sexual attack happens to the people who are not aware of where and how they should dress and how they

4 Another point in this case is that the attacker has a relation with the mother of the victim. In other words, the attacker is again a familiar person.


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should behave; and (6) Rape only happens to women who are outside late at night. Women are safe in their

workplaces and houses.

Among the wide range of people including also the educated people, the prejudices that involve the idea

that the guilt of the rape belongs to the woman as much as the attacker; even more than the attacker; that the

incident would not be defined as a rape if the woman were prostitute or not virgin which damage the general

and right judgment towards rape which should actually be acquired and drive the victims to the wall.

Furthermore, the fact that majority of people who have direct relation with the subjects, and the victims of this

crime such as prosecutors, judges, lawyers, and policemen approve the opinions about woman’s deserving rape

or woman can be the cause of rape, under some conditions, including wearing low-cut reminds us how much

the social system could in fact protect rape victims and shakes our confidence.

Representation of Rape in Fiction

Rape frequently appears in plenty of fiction sometimes as the main theme, sometimes as the subtheme of

the story. According to the studies carried out on this topic, soap operas and crime series stand out as genres

that include the theme of rape among the television shows (Kahlor & Eastin, 2011, p. 219). For instance, it has

been found out that in the detective series called Law & Order: Special Victims Unit broadcast in many

countries including Turkey and especially United States of America, 183 episodes have been on rape since

1999 (Kahlor & Eastin, 2011, p. 220). Without doubt, police department which the aforementioned series have

focused on is intended for special victims and such a ratio is not surprising. On the other hand, it has been

observed that in many other series, the rape of theme is frequently handled. In the search engine of Imdb

(International Movie Data Base), when all the series, films, and documentaries which include theme of rape in

their stories have been researched, names of 2014 series, films, and documentaries have been found out5. Some

of them are detective series with the theme of crime such as Law & Order: Special Victims Unit. In almost

every genre of CSI series (CSI: New York, CSI: UK, CSI: Miami etc.), The Closer, Cold Case, NCIS, Bones,

Criminal Minds, and Dexter stand out as series which are suitable to the aforementioned genre including rape

cases. In addition to this, it has been observed that rape is a used as a subject in some series which can be

defined as horror, fantastic, or drama for the young. Some of these series are True Blood, The Walking Dead,

Game of Thrones, American Horror Story, Spartacus: Vengeance, Heroes, One Tree Hill, and The O.C. As it is

seen, rape is encountered as a theme in many of the popular television series. It could firstly be thought that

representation of rape, which is a devastating and common crime exerted towards woman, provides criticism on

the issue. However, woman is mostly represented as a victim who is alive or murdered, and who does not have

a chance of surviving in these representations. Kahlor and Eastin (2011, p. 217) suggested that in the stories of

these series, the victim is represented as a character who wants to be raped with the ratio of 42%, who tells a lie

about the attack with the ratio of 38%, and who is responsible for the rape with the ratio of 46%. In addition to

this, Kahlor and Eastin (2011, p. 217) put forward that some of the rape myths including the idea that rape

charges are wrong or made up of lies; victim of rape is the cause of the rape by her dressing and behaviors

stand out in the shows broadcast in prime time. On the other hand, in the studies carried out to find out how

these series are perceived by the audience, it has been discovered that there is an apparent and positive relation

between exposure to television shows dealing with sexual attack, accepting the violence towards women, and 5 This result was obtained in the research made on September 22, 2012. This result will naturally change in accordance with the updating of the data base as time goes by.


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expressing the possibility of men’s attempting to rape (as cited in Kohlar & Eastin, 2011, p. 217). Therefore, it

can be stated that the series on the theme of rape do not have plots which could serve as guidance for women;

on the contrary, they tend to produce again existing wrong rape myths. In the films as well, we can frequently

encounter rape as a theme. Last Tango in Paris directed by Bernardo Bertolucci in 1972, Frenzy directed by

Alfred Hitchcock in the same year, Thelma and Louise which is directed by Ridley Scott in 1991, or Volver

directed by Pedro Almodovar in 2006 are only a few of the films using rape as a theme in their stories.

Irréversible, which is directed by Gaspar Noe in 2002, stands out as an extremely shocking film which is

completely centered on rape. Boy’s Don’t Cry, which was shot in 1999 by Kimberly Peirce impressed by the

real life story of a homosexual woman, is one of the films remembered firstly with its shocking rape scene. It is

possible to increase the number of examples. In all of these films, unjust treatment, state of being defenceless

and victimization of woman attract attention as an unchanging state. The characters murdering the attacker after

the attempt of rape or assault (like in Thelma and Louise and Volver) create an illusion of having a powerful

position. However, they deserve death or punishment by becoming criminals. Therefore, the chance of winning

of a woman exposed to rape is degraded to the lowest degree.

Three Television Series Broadcast in Turkey and Three Rape Incidents

Turkey stands out as a country with its extensive ratios of television watching. According to the results of

a research carried out in 2001 on 10 thousand people, 64% of whom come from cities and 36% of whom come

from rural areas, 96% of women and 97% of men watch television (Noyan, 2003, p. 22)6. According to

Research on Television Watching Tendencies (2007, p. 53) carried out by Radio and Television Supreme Board

covering the years 2005-2006, the ratio of people throughout Turkey who watch television between

18:00-21:00 is 60.2%. The ratio of people who watch television between 21:00-24:00 is 59.5%. These data

indicate that Turkish television viewer mostly watch television during the time period called prime time which

has been translated to Turkish as golden hours (altın saatler) by Foundation of Turkish Language. Among the

broadcasting of mainstream media, the type of television show standing out during this prime time is

predominantly series. In contrast to the episodes lasting about 45 minutes in Europe and United States of

America, almost all the episodes of series in Turkey last about 90 minutes. Together with the commercials and

summary of the previous episode, watching time for a series reaches to 195 minutes. This implies that the

viewer spends his/her time on watching series during this prime time. Although the series such as Behzat Ç.,

Kurtlar Vadisi, and Ustura Kemal appealing to male viewers are broadcast during this prime time, majority of

the series broadcast generally on mainstream television channels are aimed at female viewers. The point that

attracts attention in these series is that melodramatic narrative, which Yeşilçam7 familiarized the viewer in

1960’s stands out. The main theme in these narratives in which various intrigues and unfortunate events occur

is mostly love and family. In these narratives created in accordance with female viewers’ fantasies, virtuous

women and men earning money in a honorable way cannot come together easily due to various misfortunes,

6 The data on this topic differ. According to a study called Research About Perception of Society on Culture Policies and Impact of Media on Cultural Process carried out by Ministry of Culture and Tourism in collaboration with research organization on public opinion called SETA, 78.9% of Turkish people watch television. According to another research realized by Ministry of Family and Social Politics on 12 thousand families, 92% of families watch television. Although there are considerable differences between these researches, the inference that could be reached no matter which data are considered is that Turkish people watch television intensely. 7 Yeşilçam is the name of Turkish film industry like Hollywood, Bollywood.


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villains who interfere, lost opportunities and regrets. The only place in which they could find love and

happiness is home and family (Abisel, 2005; Özsoy, 2004). “Although these films are aimed at women’s

wishes and draw a frame for women, these are constructed within the discourse for men and created by men

just like in soap operas” (Özsoy, 2004, p. 286). Even the series called Muhteşem Yüzyıl, which is a period series

and centers on the palace during the reign of Kanuni Sultan Süleyman, is based on love relationships and

romance; especially the love between Kanuni Sultan Süleyman and Hürrem Sultan, struggles between women

living in harem and the intrigues despite the historical period which is inspired.

On the other hand, the striking point in these series is that they create again and again the conventional

judgments in terms of gender. These conventional judgments involve the idea that woman is limited with house,

family, and private space and certain stereotypes such as holy mother and femme fatale, woman as a supporter

of man and frivolous woman (Dursun, 2008; Tanrıöver, 2003). On the other hand, the act of television viewing,

especially soap operas and dramas bring color and fantasy to the private life of women (Tanrıöver, 2003;

Modleski, 1995). Dursun (2008, p. 69) stated that in the series which are broadcast in Turkey, men are depicted

as cool-headed, successful, and brave individuals, whereas, women are depicted as emotional, elegant, loyal,

socially dependent, quickly disappointed, inclined to compromise, and easily convinced individuals. It is

implied in a few independent woman representations that these women also wish for marriage institution

inwardly. Violence is experienced mostly among spouses and close friend/relative circle. Not fulfilling a

request, jealousy, rage, and anger stand out as reasons for violence.

In this study, among the series which have been broadcast since recent period, three of them have been

chosen related with rape theme by judgmental sampling. These series are Öyle Bir Geçer Zaman Ki,

Fatmagül’ün Suçu Ne? and Iffet. Among these series, Fatmagül’ün Suçu Ne? ended in June 2011. The

broadcasting of the other two series still continues. Fatmagül’ün Suçu Ne? narrates a rape and the events that

follow this rape entirely. This production is the series version of a film which was directed by SüreyyaDuru in

1986. However, the series have been adapted to present day, elaborated because it continued for a long time and

changed so much although the general theme is similar to the original work. Iffet tells the experiences of a

young girl after being raped by her lover. The girl who comes from sub-middle class lives with her oppressive

father and sister and has taken the responsibility of the house after her mother has left the house. Iffet is also the

series of the film with the same name made in 1982. Similarly, as Iffet is also adapted to present day, it has

become different from the original production with many changes and details. Öyle Bir Geçer Zaman Ki tells

the melodramatic story of a middle class family. Every character in the series has problems based on sorrowful

and unpleasant coincidences. One of these “unpleasant” events is that main character Cemile has been raped by

her ex-husband Ali and become pregnant. The series are based on the original script of Coşkun Irmak (2011).

The rape incidents in these series conform with the data mentioned so far. In these three incidents, the

attackers are men whom women could trust, are even the men whom women love, are in love with, and who

could be defined as “normal”. In Fatmagül’ün Suçu Ne? Fatmagül, who comes from a rural place, is an

engaged young girl, is raped by the son of an urban and wealthy family whose house she works in and also by

her relatives and friends.

In Öyle Bir Geçer Zaman Ki, Cemile is raped by her husband that she has divorced; Iffet is raped by her

lover, Cemile. In each of these incidents, it has been implied as a subtext that the reason of rape is women’s

beauty that attract the men around them. The young men who see Fatmagül for the first time tell that she will be

more beatiful than the girls in the city if she wears nice clothes and takes care of herself a little. Cemile’s


478

husband, Ali the Captain, just before the rape, tells her that his second wife Caroline has gone; it is fate and he

loves Cemile so much, he desires her, and he has missed her. In Iffet, Iffet is disturbed by sexual insistence of

Cemil whom she meets secretly in a remote spot and she gets off Cemil’s commercial vehicle. The reason for

Cemil’s insistence is that they will get married any way and he cannot stop himself when he comes across

Iffet’s beauty. Cemil manages to make Iffet come closer to the automobile by mentioning that he will tell

something to her and he rapes her by pressing her head in the window of the vehicle. Again conforming with

the data, in these three events, women hesitate about telling what has happened to them. Both Fatmagül and

Iffet are raped when they are away from their houses and when they are alone. Therefore, the message that a

woman is defenceless when she is away from home is implied to the viewer as a subtext. Fatmagül cannot talk

about the subjects of the incident and what has happened to her for a long time because of the serious trauma

she has experienced. Cemile cannot tell the event because of shame; Iffet cannot tell the event to the police, the

prosecutor or another person around her because she is afraid of her father and she is in love with him. Cemile

tells the event to the prosecutor after two months with the insistence of her elder daughter Berrin who is having

law education. A woman who is called Ebe Nine (Midwife Grandma) finds Fatmagül after the rape incident.

Ebe Nine is the elder sister of Kerim, who has not attempted to rape her; yet, he has not prevented it either,

although he has been together with the young men having committed rape. After a long time, Fatmagül can tell

the incident with the support of Ebe Nine. By the way, Ebe Nine doesn’t know the relation of his brother,

Kerim with the incident for a long time. When she learns about it, she gives a very severe reaction towards

Kerim. She cannot accept the situation.

After the rape, Cemile and Iffet become pregnant. Cemile tries to get rid of the baby in primitive

conditions but Ali, the Captain, having learnt that she is pregnant to his own child, manages to prevent her in

each case. Later, Cemile doesn’t want to have abortion either. Both Cemile and Iffet lose their babies because

of exterior factors. It has been seen that losing her baby has caused trauma for Iffet. Both Iffet and Cemile

escape from the condition they are in thanks to the wealthy men taking care of them. Therefore, the possibility

of viewing a character who finds a way out by her own struggle and who can be a model and a plot on this

character disappears. By the way, Cemile stands out as a character who is asexual. Before having a sexual

intercourse with Hikmet Karcı nicknamed Fisherman, she witnesses his death by Karcı Ali on the day of their

wedding. Although it is not shown directly in the series, it is implied that Cemile has lost her baby during this

commotion. Cemile becomes a rich businesswoman through the inheritance left by Hikmet Karcı, who dies

after they get married officially. In spite of her beauty, wealth, and independence, she doesn’t have any relation

or even intimacy with any men. The attaraction between Ali and her is constantly implied to the viewers.

However, it is not also possible to go back to everything again with him. Therefore, Cemile appears as almost

an asexual woman devoting herself to her home and children. This aspect of the series conforms also with

Yeşilçam melodramas. The myth “Woman should sacrifice herself” is created again.

Among the three series, only in Fatmagül’ün Suçu Ne? Selim, son of a wealthy family and his cousin,

Erdoğan get a punishment and are sent into prison. Although Cemile has made a criminal complaint to the

prosecution office, no legal action has been brought against Ali since there is no evidence or witness and Ali

refuses the blame as well. Cemil also has escaped getting into the prison because of the intense love Iffet feels

for him. Cemil often expresses that he is an evil man, gives harm to the people around him, and feels remorse

because he has raped Iffet and caused all the other problems. He also repeats that there is great love he feels for

Iffet underlying all these. Similarly, Ali the Captain frequently says that he has made many mistakes and


479

upsetted Cemile so much without mentioning especially the rape incident. Kerim also feels remorse who has

not prevented Fatmagül’s rape and then been made to marry Fatmagül to cover up the incident. In this way,

also as a subtext, it has been implied that these aforementioned men are not in fact evil people, in a moment of

forgetting their manners or due to an exterior factor such as alcohol and drug causing them to lose their control,

they have committed this crime. Forgiving them becomes commonplace. As a matter of fact, during the season

2011-2012, the relation between Cemile and Ali is good although they haven’t married. It has been observed

that Cemile loves Ali inwardly; Ali becomes aware of his mistakes and realizes that he still loves Cemile. Iffet

gets married to Cemil happily after all the obstacles they have had at the end of the first season and unhappy

marriages they have experienced. In any case, Iffet suffers all through the season not because of being raped by

the man whom she is in love with; but because of not coming together with him in one way or another.

Fatmagül, first, has to get married to Kerim as a mere formality. In exchange for this, she and her sister-in-law

are given so much money. Therefore, there is no real love or love relationship between each other. However, as

time goes by, Kerim first falls in love with Fatmagül with the effect of remorse. After the theraphy sessions

which both of them have entered, Fatmagül also starts to love Kerim and in the end, they really get married. At

the first night of their marriage, there has been no sexual intercourse because the remorse Kerim has not

forgotten. They need time to reach this point in their relation. Unfortunately, in each of the three series, it has

been implied with a message that love is enough to forget about a traumatic incident such as rape. Among these

three series, Fatmagül’ün Suçu Ne? has a narrative which can be model in some points when compared with

the two other series because of its being more reasonable, believable, and realistic in representing the period

after the rape incident, its emphasis on not giving up struggle, cooperation among women even though she has

received theraphy and felt intimidated if we could leave out the melodramatic elements in the story and love

between Fatmagül and Kerim who has been involved in the crime by not preventing it although he has not

raped her and their marriage. The series have reached an impressive and relieving ending for the viewer

through the legal punishment of the rapists and everybody who wants to cover up the event in the final. Without

doubt, the last scene in which Fatmagül and Kerim walk on the road happily hand in hand serves to the

romance expectation of the female viewer.

Conclusions

One of the kinds of violence exerted towards women which is sexual violence in general aspect;

specifically rape appears as a significant problem throughout the world. The studies indicate that the subjects in

the rape incidents are mostly familiar people. Women prefer to keep silent because of many reasons. Women

are seen as real criminals preparing the atmosphere of rape in most of the cases due to the prejudices towards

women or myths about rape. The idea that the attackers are sick or the victims of their impulses they cannot

stop is one of the wrong convictions adopted generally.

In many of the series broadcast on television channels, we come across rape as a theme. It is usual that a

widespread crime is handled in series and films. However, these fictional narratives mostly create the existing

prejudices and wrong beliefs again and again. In each of the three series which have been broadcast since

recent period in Turkey, theme of rape has been covered. Through judgmental sampling, it is examined how

these series named: Öyle Bir Geçer Zaman Ki, Fatmagül’ün Suçu Ne?, and Iffet have handled the rape incident,

how the characters who are victims of rape overcome the trauma experienced after the rape, myths about rape,

and whether these myths conform with real situations. As it is discussed previously in detail, rapists’ being


480

familiar and trustworthy people in these series conforms with the rape incidents in real life. In other words,

these reflect the reality. However, it has been observed that some of the rape myths that we have dealt with are

produced again in these series. Apart from this, the idea that victims are beautiful and therefore, men lose their

control is also used. In addition to this, the characters’ being far away from their homes and being raped in

remote spots in Iffet and Fatmagül’ün Suçu Ne? create again the prejudice including the idea that there are great

dangers for women outside of their homes. Among these series, Fatmagül’ün Suçu Ne? has a more realistic plot;

though not totally. The events which are in the theme of the series such as the court process which Fatmagül

has experienced, her requirement of psychiatric treatment, and the support from women’s movement make the

series more realistic in spite of all the melodramatic obstacles. However, as it is mentioned, love stands out as a

factor which makes the rape be forgotten in each of these series. Therefore, it can be asserted that all of these

series, but especially Iffet have wrong stances. It can be suggested that education on media literacy aimed at not

only making the viewer conscious, but also raising the awareness of script writers, directors, and producers

working in the sector are almost mandatory. Otherwise, these series which feed their fantasies and bring “color”

to the houses of women in which they stay closed will continue to present wrong models in managing their real

life problems and postpone the definition of women’s problems.

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Myths About Rock Art

Robert G. Bednarik

IFRAO (International Federation of Rock Art Organizations), Caulfield South, Australia

Rather than addressing the myths or cosmologies supposedly expressed in rock art, this paper explores some of the

myths that have been and are still being created about rock art. We know from the study of the last rock

art-producing peoples in the world that outsiders of their cultures cannot interpret their rock art correctly, or even

understand their cosmologies adequately. This is not surprising, in view of the neuroscientific understanding of the

underlying differences. In a sound hermeneutical system, the normative nature of interpretation must be recognized

and accounted for. The record shows that little hermeneutical restraint has been exercised in rock art research, and

that the discipline’s credibility demands the expulsion of the extensive myths that have been created by it. Some of

the most prominent of these falsities are presented to illustrate the point.

Keywords: rock art, epistemology, interpretation, dating, extinct fauna, shamanism, neuropathology

Introduction

For over a century, ever since the French prehistorians grudgingly accepted the Pleistocene age of the

Altamira cave art in Spain (Cartailhac, 1902) after first ruining the life of its discoverer, rock art has been

subjected to interpretation by archaeologists, art historians, and others, and has been treated as art, essentially in

the sense of modern Western perception of what art is. And yet, the producers of the world’s rock art, from

traditional or indigenous societies, have no concept of art in the Western sense, and the art-like productions of

their societies, in some cases tens of millennia old, do not constitute art as we perceive it. They are not

commodities, they have no “art histories”, their makers were not professional artists, and they cannot be

simplistically understood by alien commentators. Indeed, their makers referred to different constructs of reality.

The most pervasive human reaction to rock art, irrespective of the age, ethnicity, or conditioning of the

beholder, is to try to figure out what it depicts and what it means. If adequate clues are spotted in a motif to invite

“identification”, it is considered to be figurative or iconographic, and it is then interpreted on that basis. Clearly,

then, this process reflects the values, mental constructs and visual responses of the beholder rather than the

producer of the rock art motif. It is an entirely subjective procedure that can only tell us about the cognition,

perception, and mental world of the former; it tells us absolutely nothing about the mute maker of the object, his

or her worldview or beliefs.

The main reason for the widespread belief among archaeologists to be able to understand paleoart

production, even to communicate with the paleoartist (Mithen, 1998), appears to be the purported naturalism of

some of the Franco-Cantabrian cave art in southwestern Europe. While it is true that some rock art traditions,

Robert G. Bednarik, CEO and Editor-in-Chief, IFRAO (International Federation of Rock Art Organizations).

DAVID PUBLISHING

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MYTHS ABOUT ROCK ART 483

such as those of the San/Bushmen of southern Africa, some of the pastoralists of the Sahara, or the Gwion

paleoartists of the Australian Kimberley present high levels of realism in their imagery, the final Pleistocene

palaeoart of Europe is particularly remote conceptually. The self-deception practiced by archaeologists is

easily explained. The world’s rock art was typically produced by illiterate people, whose brains differed

significantly from those of literates in how they were organized, interconnected, and integrated (Helvenston,

2013). Those of non-literates operate largely through “magical thinking”, whereas the operation by cause and

effect reasoning is acquired ontologically. Therefore the most reliable modern interpreters of rock art should be

infants, followed by illiterates. The least qualified are modern academic sophisticates (Bednarik, 2011, 2012,

2013a). The plasticity of the human brain facilitates its modification by ontogenic experience. Neuroscience

has demonstrated that cultural activity modifies the chemistry and structure of the brain through affecting the

flow of neurotransmitters and hormones (Smail, 2007) and the quantity of grey matter (Maguire et al., 2000;

Draganski et al., 2004; Malafouris, 2008).

Moreover, most rock art traditions of the world are far from naturalistic in the modern European sense, but

appear to be highly stylized, schematized, or conventionalized. Depending on the degree to which such cultural

treatment departs from Eurocentric conventions, meaning tends to be inaccessible to the cultural outsider,

including the modern scholar. The belief that there is an iconographic cut-off point up to which representational

intent can be determined by the investigator is a falsity, besides being untestable and thus unscientific; it derives

from purported authority and ethnocentric perception. The meaning of rock art for which an emic explanation is

lacking is simply not accessible to the alien investigator.

Although this is already clear from purely rational considerations, there is also sound empirical evidence for

this fundamental precept. It derives from the only “blind test” ever conducted in rock art interpretation.

Macintosh was a distinguished professor of anatomy who “identified” the hundreds of painted biomorphs of

Beswick Cave in the Northern Territory of Australia (Macintosh, 1952). Twenty years later, he discovered that

the painters were still alive, so he took them to the site and asked them to explain the rock art imagery in detail, in

order to test his own expert interpretations. He conceded that he had failed to diagnose correctly the individual

painted items in 90% of the site’s inventory, and he stated that “the mental code of the artists’ schematization

cannot be cracked without keys provided by highly initiated informants” (Macintosh, 1952, p. 197). This has

also been my experience in working with indigenous rock artists. Since Macintosh’s (1977) work was

published, Australian rock art researchers have adopted the convention of always placing their

“determinations” of motif meanings in quotation marks, a practice which their colleagues in the rest of the

world have not yet espoused. This is of particular significance when it is remembered that Australia is the only

country where comprehensive knowledge about the meaning of rock art has remained available to the present

time. The onus is on those who interpret rock art to demonstrate what special ability they possess to do so

correctly, and why anyone should take their contentions seriously. Here, we will review and analyze some of

the mythologies rock art interpreters have created. This is such a rich source of relevant information that the

present paper can only make minor inroads into this vast topic, which amounts to millions of false claims

present in the published literature. It would need to be (and will be) followed by a book exploring this veritable

mother-lode of published scholarly mistakes further.


Dating Rock Art Through Faunal Depictions

Notwithstanding the Australian reluctance of attempting etic interpretation of rock art, there are still

numerous examples of such imprudence from that country. Many of them refer to endeavors of estimating the age

of motifs by assuming that they are depictions of Pleistocene animals or their tracks. Such claims have been made

throughout the 20th century and continue into the present century (Bednarik, 2013b). Basedow (1904, 1907,

1914), the first to recognize both the existence of Pleistocene rock art in Australia and the presence of humans in

that period, first suggested that large bird track-like petroglyphs at Balparana could be of Genyornis, a giant bird

that became extinct by 45 ka (45,000 years) ago. He later added the presumed tracks of Diprotodon at Yunta

Springs and Wilkindinna. The lithology of the sites renders such great ages highly unlikely, and the petroglyphs

do not resemble the tracks these species would presumably have made. More detailed was the claim that a

complex petroglyph in the same region of South Australia, at Panaramitee North, depicts the head of a crocodile,

Crocodylus porosus (Mountford, 1929). However, the nearest finds of the species are from 1,400 km north of the

site, and no form of crocodile is known to have ever existed in the region in question. Moreover, the correct

meaning of the motif was obtained in 1942 from a Ngadjuri elder: It depicts a yarida magic object, which

represents the spirit body of a human being as well as other things (Berndt, 1987). Mountford (1928) also

described a motif from Yunta Springs as a marine turtle, and Mountford and Edwards (1962, 1963) added to this

a marine fish from Panaramitee North. On this basis, supported by the opinions of palaeontologists, they

concluded that the sea must have been close to the site at the time the rock art was created. However, the last time

the sea was anywhere near the site was in the Early Eocene transgression, 51 million years ago and long before

humans first appeared (Bednarik, 2013b). Similarly, a large set of presumed tracks of Genyornis at Eucolo Creek

is not remotely of the Pleistocene, as proposed by Tindale (1951), occurring as it does together with tracks of the

dingo, a species that was introduced only in the mid-Holocene.

Murray and Chaloupka (1984) considered the possible depictions of several Pleistocene megafaunal species

in the painted rock art of Arnhem Land, but failed to present any persuasive examples. These paintings occur in

poorly protected sandstone shelters and nothing suggests that any of them could be more than a few millennia old.

Also, none of the motifs considered by these authors exhibit any diagnostic features of the species concerned.

That applies similarly to the proposition of Trezise (1993) that an image from Cape York Peninsula is of

Diprotodon. The painting in question presents almost no anatomical feature attributed to that species and appears

to be very recent, possibly being of a pig, an introduced animal. Even more absurd is the claims by Akerman

(1998, 2009; Akerman & Willing, 2009) to have discovered three images of Thylacoleo at various times. That

species is thought to have become extinct about 43 ka ago and there are no fossils known from the regions where

Akerman purports to have found its images, Arnhem Land and Kimberley. The paintings he described are

exposed to the rain, are certainly less than 2,000 years old, and feature no details reminiscent of Thylacoleo

(Bednarik, 2013b). The most recent prominent contention of the depiction of an Ice Age species refers again to

Genyornis. Gunn, Douglas, and Whear (2011) presented a water-damaged, poorly protected rock painting from a

site in Arnhem Land that can at most be a couple of thousand years old. The extinction date of Genyornis is well

known because of the many hundreds of dated fossil eggshell fragments that show that it disappeared rather

abruptly at 50 ± 5 ka ago (Miller et al., 1999, as cited in Gillespie, 2004). Besides, its distribution was limited to

southeastern Australia; its range never extended to the north of the continent.


Figure 1. Gunn et al.’s recording of an aviform pictogram they interpret as Genyornis,

indicating some of the diagnostic features they disregard.

Nevertheless, the last example illustrates well the epistemological derivation of these inclinations to see

extinct animal species in recent rock art. The rock art image concerned is certainly not a naturalistic or realistic

depiction of any animal (see Figure 1). The displacement of its point of gravity relative to what are seen as its feet

implies that it would fall flat on its beak. The feet are shown in “twisted perspective,” and the absence of any tail

feathers, which are typical of all extant large birds, is unnatural. The long neck, head shape, and beak are not of

Genyornis; and there is a line suggestive of either a wing (the species was flightless) or a digestive tract, which

would imply x-ray depiction (a very recent stylistic treatment in Australia). In short, the process of the beholder

convincing himself/herself that this is a depiction of any specific animal is completely subjective, in that

confirming aspects are accepted and disconfirming ones are rejected to arrive at a preferred reading. The same

applies to the thousands of other “identifications” of animal species in world rock art: they are based on pareidolia

and autosuggestion. More importantly, the logic of using such “identifications” to establish the age of the rock art

can lead to the most absurd deductions. For instance, some Chinese archaeologists recorded a group of

petroglyphs in Inner Mongolia and defined them as images of giraffes (see Figure 2). Because giraffes became

extinct in China during the Tertiary period, millions of years ago, they then concluded that the images must have

been made in the Tertiary (i.e., before humans existed). Before this is seen as an extreme example it needs to be

appreciated that there are numerous examples where it was claimed that rock art images are of dinosaurs, as we

will later see. The importance of this is that there is no logical difference between the claim that an image of a

group of giraffes proves its antiquity, and the claim that an image of any other zoomorph proves its age. Clearly in

both cases the question is: What prompts the interpreter’s belief to know the meaning inherent in patches of

pigment or arrangements of anthropogenic depressions on rock? Neuroscientifically, rock art interpretation

derives from processes involved in apophenia and pareidolia, which are Type 1 errors (false positive or alpha

errors). The tendency to seek patterns in random information is fundamental to the ability of a species in

processing sensory input. High levels of dopamine affect the propensity to find meaning, patterns, and


significance, even when there is none, and this proclivity is related to a tendency of receptivity for the paranormal

(Leonard & Brugger, 1998). Alcock (1981) emphasized how evidence that should be rejected on a rational basis

is instead accepted by default, and rationality changed to fit the perceived evidence (Alcock, Carment, & Sadava,

2005). He also noted how this is reinforced when believers listen to each other’s stories.

Figure 2. Recording of “Tertiary giraffe” petroglyphs from northern China.

False Dating Claims for Rock Art

The above short list of Australian misidentifications of rock art is a reasonably comprehensive catalog of

such errors from that country, whereas a corresponding inventory for the rest of the world would cite literally

tens of thousands of examples. The myths created about rock art are far more numerous than the snippets of

information about it that can be considered credible. In that sense rock art research provides the richest source of

falsehoods in all of academic endeavor. While the invention of iconographic interpretations, for instance to

derive age estimates, is very common, the opposite reasoning is just as frequent. This occurs when an age of

rock art is determined arbitrarily, usually by some stylistic hunch, and the motifs are then interpreted on that

basis. For instance there is a series of petroglyph sites in the Côa valley of northern Portugal whose contents are

mostly of the last three or four centuries, but which also feature a small component dating from the late

Holocene (Bednarik, 1995). For reasons best known to them, the Pleistocene archaeologists collectively and

universally decided that this assemblage is of Paleolithic antiquity and in the order of 20 to 26 ka old (e.g.,

Zilhão, 1995; Bahn, 1995a, 1995b; Zilhão et al., 1997), and that its scientific dating (Watchman, 1995, 1996) is

fraudulent. The imagery found on these sites consists of pictures of clocks, locomotives, bridges, crucifixion

scenes, horses, Spanish fighting bulls, and a large contingent of engraved inscriptions. The latter include in

many cases calendar dates, ranging from the present back to the 18th century. The earliest of these dates are so

weathered that they can barely be deciphered, and they are clearly older than the zoomorphs defined as

Paleolithic by the archaeologists. The Côa valley is deeply incised into the soft schist forming it; it is


geologically very young and none of the decorated rock exposures along the river could have existed during the

final Pleistocene. Also, there are no Pleistocene sediments anywhere in the valley, all terraces being of the final

Holocene. Therefore the extensive excavations at dozens of sites have only revealed Neolithic or later

occupation levels, with ceramics extending right down to bedrock. This has not prevented the archaeologists

from defining the images of bulls as “aurochs”, and those of horses as Paleolithic, despite the occurrence of

bridles on some of the latter depictions. In their fervent belief that this corpus is of the Pleistocene they even

succeeded in hoodwinking UNESCO (United Nations Educational, Scientific, and Cultural Organization) to

accept the site complex as Paleolithic, and list it as such on the World Heritage List.

Precisely the same applies at another site, only 50 km away but located in Spain. Like the Côa, the Agueda is

a southern tributary of the Douro, rising in the granite region to the south and then plunging into the soft schists,

where angular quartz sediments scour the soft rock and rapidly lower the river’s thalweg. The Siega Verde site

near Castillejo de Martin Viejo is dominated by the soaring masonry structure of a bridge, in whose vicinity occur

hundreds of petroglyphs and inscriptions. To support the great weight of its central piers, platforms were carved

from the bedrock, on which some of the rock art and writing were inscribed. These surfaces were created either in

1925, or immediately previously, and some zoomorphs were concealed by a pier. All of the petroglyphs, names,

and dates occur within a zone of less than six meters above the normal river level, which is regularly flooded.

They are then subjected to intensive fluvial sandblasting, and the duration of this process of erasure can be easily

established from the dated inscriptions. The zoomorphic petroglyphs are exposed to precisely the same gradual

obliteration. At the lower level both are worn beyond recognition in well under 200 years (Bednarik, 2009a), and

even the highest lying of the rock art cannot possibly be twice that age, judging from the corresponding

inscriptions. In fact the majority of the Siega Verde zoomorphs date from around 1925, when the bridge was built,

and up to the 1950s. And yet all commenting archaeologists insist that this assemblage is of the Upper Paleolithic

and around 20 ka old or older. Again, they see aurochs and Pleistocene horses, and they have even claimed that

there is an image of megaloceros and another of a woolly rhinoceros. Of course, there is no such image at the site,

nor has one ever been published. The archaeological innuendo was adequate justification, however, to inscribe

Siega Verde also on the World Heritage List.

Thus the issue of the modernity of the Siega Verde rock art is not just an academic subject that can be

debated in neutral terms and resolved by reasoned discussion and careful consideration of all the evidence. It is a

politically charged issue. Despite the unambiguous statements of local residents of the nearby village that the

petroglyphs are of recent times (Hansen, 1997), and the scientific opinion that there cannot be any Pleistocene

rock art at the site, the fraudulent listing adds to the Eurocentric obsession with the importance of Paleolithic art.

It serves a political purpose, reinforcing the established bias and skewed understanding of paleoart beginnings in

which Europe is some kind of “cradle of art”. The obsession with European Pleistocene rock art amounts to a

powerful cultural icon, ignoring that Pleistocene rock art is far more numerous in other continents, and

prejudicing the appreciation of Holocene rock art, thus impairing its protection and preservation.

These examples serve to illustrate a vast category of myths created about rock art by researchers. The linking

of specific animal depictions to Pleistocene antiquity is a recurring theme in countless such claims. Two sites in

the Austrian Alps, Stubwiesalm and Kienbachklamm, fall into this group (Kohl & Burgstaller, 1992). No

justification at all exists for both claims, and in the second case some of the motifs are natural formations


(Bednarik, 2009b). There have been numerous cases of central European cave art falsely attributed to the

Paleolithic period, including that of Kleines Schulerloch (Birkner, 1938, p. 13) and Kastlgänghöhle (Bohmers,

1939, p. 40), debunked by Bosinski (1982, p. 6) and Freund (1957, p. 55); Hohle Fels (Hahn, 1991; Conard &

Uerpmann, 2000) and Geissenklösterle (Hahn, 1988), both refuted by Bednarik (2002); Mladeč Cave (Oliva,

1989), refuted by Bednarik (2006); and Bycí Skála, refuted by Svoboda, van der Plicht, and Balák (2005). There

are numerous claims to have identified extinct fauna in Chinese rock art (e.g., YOU, 1984; GAI, 1986, pp.

415-424; LIU, 1991; CHEN, 1991, p. 126; LI, 1992) dating it to the Pleistocene which have been refuted

(WANG, 1984; Bednarik & LI, 1991; Bednarik, 1993; TANG, 1993). A claim for Pleistocene petroglyphs based

on the perceived identification of depicted fauna has also been made in South Korea (Sohn, 1981). Such

contentions are commonly expressed also in Siberia (e.g., at Shishkino & Tal’ma, on the Lena river; Okladnikov,

1959, 1977; Okladnikov & Saporoshskaya, 1959, as cited in Bednarik & Devlet, 1992), in Mongolia, several of

the central Asian republics, Japan, occasionally in India (as cited in Bednarik, 1993), Pakistan, Iran, and

Azerbaijan. For instance it has been claimed that certain rock art in Arabia dates from the final Pleistocene (by a

researcher who has never been there; Anati, 1968), but studies of the extensive rock art of Saudi Arabia have

provided no support so far (Bednarik & Khan, 2002, 2005, 2009).

Even North America has yielded numerous propositions that extinct Pleistocene species have been depicted

in its rock art. Particularly popular are designations as proboscideans, which have appeared throughout the 20th

century and into the present. Both the Columbian mammoth and mastodon were certainly met by the early

colonizers of the continent, but all proposals of their depiction could not so far be credibly substantiated. Some,

such as the purported mastodon engraving on a pendant made of whelk shell from Holly Oak, Delaware, are

clearly fakes. This object, supposedly found in 1864 (Kraft & Thomas, 1976), was eventually radiocarbon-dated

to about 1,500 years BP (Griffin, Meltzer, Smith, & Sturtevant, 1988). Further unambiguous fakes are the two red

elephant paintings at Birch Creek, Ferron, Utah (Malotki & Weaver, 2002, p. 192). The petroglyph of a mastodon

near Moab, Utah was reported by Gould (1935), but has been partially destroyed by vandalism subsequently and

more probably depicts a bear with a fish in its mouth (Malotki & Weaver, 2002, p. 200). An elephant-like image

in Yellow Rock Canyon, Nevada (Tuohy, 1969; Clewlow & Uchitel, 2005) was probably made in the 1840s

(Layton, 1976). A petroglyph at China Lake Naval Air Weapons Station presented as a possible proboscidean by

Kaldenberg (2005) has been refuted by Malotki and Wallace (2011), as has been another from Hieroglyphic

Canyon, Arizona, and one more from near Suwanee, New Mexico. Malotki and Wallace (2011) also discredited

the elephantine status of a “mammoth” image at Manila, Utah (Thompson, 1993), and the “mastodon” at

Craneman Hill near Mayer, Arizona. All of these images are thought to depict something other than

proboscideans, and Malotki and Wallace (2011) correctly attribute these “identifications” to pareidolia.

The status of two elephantine petroglyphs at Track Rocks near Barnesville, Ohio, has remained uncertain

until recently. Early descriptions of the site (e.g., Ward, 1872; Read & Whittlesey, 1877; Swauger, 1974) make

no mention of them, but they are all significantly incomplete. A recent scientific investigation confirmed that

they probably do depict elephants, but that they date from between 1910 and 1980, based on granular

exfoliation calibrated by numerous engraved dates (Bednarik, 2013c). Two further arrangements high up on a

cliff at Upper Sand Island near Bluff, Utah, have also been attributed to the Columbian mammoth (Malotki &

Wallace, 2011). Intensive microscopic examination (Bednarik, 2013c) and geological study (Gillam &


Wakeley, 2013) have shown that a Pleistocene antiquity of the petroglyph panel is geologically not feasible,

and that the groups of markings concerned are fortuitous arrangements of unrelated elements. By applying

macro-wane analysis Bednarik has determined that the petroglyphs are less than 4000 years old, which falls

significantly short of the presumed end-Pleistocene extinction date of the species (Faith & Surovell, 2009).

This leaves just one more American paleoart depiction of a proboscidean, the engraving on a bone fragment

from the Old Vero Site, Vero Beach, Florida. Purdy et al. (2001) have presented empirical evidence in favor of

the marking’s authenticity, but several aspects remain to be clarified further. Their case rests mostly on the

continuity of mineralization across the indentations (Purdy et al., 2001, p. 2911), other indicators being

essentially inconclusive (Bednarik, 2013c).

This long list of purported elephantine rock art motifs from the United States can be supplemented by a

series of spurious claims for other Pleistocene faunal depictions in American rock art. Among them are Whitley’s

(1996) claimed that the extinct Western horse has been depicted at Legend Rock, Wyoming; and his contention

that a partially patinated petroglyph at Surprise Tank, California, is of a camelid (Whitley, 1999). The second

assertion cites the opinion of a paleontologist in support (Whitley, 2009), which is of no relevance. Above we

have seen that the absurd claim concerning two supposed depictions of marine species backed by paleontologists

led to the inference that the images would be of the Eocene. Paleontologists or zoologists are trained to identify

species or their remains; they have no innate understanding whatsoever of alien paleoart imagery and their

pronouncements about it are less relevant than those of illiterates or infants.

The Depiction of Dinosaurs in Rock Art

The practice of applying the conditioned alien perception of the modern beholder to the perceived

iconographies of the rock artists always provides a seriously flawed epistemology. Typically authors select

from a complex image a few aspects that support their preferred interpretation, claiming them to be diagnostic

while ignoring those that overwhelmingly contradict it, or demonstrate that the image as a whole is not

naturalistic. This becomes especially obvious when the proposed depictions of dinosaurs or pterosaurs in rock

art are considered. In general these have found no support among archaeologists, for the obvious reason that

such species became extinct some 65 million years before humans began creating pictures, but this has not

prevented numerous such proposals from others. Some of these are seized upon by creationists (e.g., Niermann,

1994; Swift, 1997; Butt & Lyons, 2004; Lyons & Butt, 2008; Isaacs, 2010; Nelson, 2011) seeking to

demonstrate that humans and dinosaurs coexisted.

Most of the assertions of this nature come again from the United States, also the only part of the world, apart

from western Europe, where fakes of Pleistocene palaeoart are common (Bednarik, 2009b). The perhaps earliest

claim concerns a pair of paintings first described by Marquette (1855) who saw them in 1673. It is the first

published record of rock art north of Mexico (Bednarik, 2007, p. 8). By the early 19th century the images were

rendered almost unrecognizable, and the cliff bearing them was quarried in the middle of that century. Only

fanciful impressions of the images survive, and Armstrong (1887) saw them as depicting pterosaurs, as did

Gibbons and Hovind (1999), among others. The most likely meaning of the motifs is that they depicted

Underwater Panther or Mishipizhiw, a mythological creature of the Great Lakes region with horns, probably

related to the horned serpent theme widespread in North American mythology.


Another such claim originates from members of the 1924 Doheny expedition into Havasupai Canyon,

northern Arizona, who reported an image of Diplodocus (Hubbard, 1927), seen as Edmontosaurus by Taylor

(1987). Since then, Beierle (1980) has described a second motif from the same panel and at a similar level as an

unspecified dinosaur. Senter (2012) has examined both petroglyphs and considers the first to be of a bird, the

second of a bighorn sheep (see Figure 3a and 3b). None of these explanations can be conclusively refuted, but the

probability that these are images of dinosaurs is so extraordinarily small that it cannot be seriously considered.

Nevertheless, many other such proposals have been presented. One of the most spectacular misidentifications is

the alleged pterosaur painting in Black Dragon Canyon, Utah (Barnes & Pendleton, 1979, p. 201). J. S. Warner

and J. E. Warner (1995) have analyzed the assemblage and determined that five separate pictograms, two

anthropomorphs, and three zoomorphs, have been combined as one hypothetical motif. This has been confirmed

by Senter (2012). Then there is the purported sauropod petroglyph at Kachina Bridge in the Natural Bridges

National Monument, also in Utah (Swift, 1997; Taylor, 1999; Butt & Lyons, 2004; Lyons & Butt, 2008; Isaacs,

2010; Nelson, 2011). Senter and Cole (2011) had debunked this myth by showing that the “legs” of the perceived

image are natural mineral stains and the body consists of a pair of sinuous, snakelike petroglyphs.

Figure 3. Rock art motifs interpreted as depicting dinosaurs: a and b—Havasupai Canyon (USA);

c—Agawa Rock (Canada); and d—unspecified site (Tanzania).

Further afield we have one more claim by Gibbons and Hovind (1999) of a dragon or dinosaur, from the

Agawa Rock site in Lake Superior Provincial Park, Ottawa (see Figure 3c). It occurs together with several other

petroglyphs, the meaning of which is known from the testimony of Anishinaabe informant Chingwauk, given to

geographer and ethnographer Henry Schoolcraft in the early 19th century (Dewdney & Kidd, 1967; Meurger &

Gagnon, 1988). The group of pictograms depicts a lake crossing by a war party, and the horned creature

represents Underwater Panther.

Implied sauropod rock art images have also been reported from various parts of Africa. Those from

Tanzania and Zambia (Mackal, 1987) are of no great interest; the former are much more likely to depict giraffes

(see Figure 3d), the latter are too vague to assign to any animal. However, the imagery in Mokhali Cave, Lesotho,

is a great deal more interesting. It provides the only known instances of authentic depictions of dinosaurs by


paleoartists. Ichnologist and rock art recorder Paul Ellenberger (2005) had provided tracings of four

Bushman/San paintings from this site. One is a reddish painting of a dinosaur footprint, fossilized examples of

which are common in the region (Ellenberger had described 58 rock slabs bearing such fossil prints). But the

artists, among the best trackers in the world, did not stop there. They apparently sought to reconstruct the animal

that made these large tracks (Ellenberger, Mossman, Mossman, & Lockley, 2005). There are three graceful

creatures of the ornithopod reconstructed by these ethnoscientists of pre-history, painted in black. Interestingly,

in inferring the animal from its tracks, these traditional scientists outperformed palaeontologists: their three

reconstructions (see Figure 4) as recorded by the young Ellenberger in 1930 are clearly superior to that of Sir

Richard Owen of a quadrupedal ornithopod (who made other major mistakes in reconstructing extinct animals; as

cited in Bednarik, 2013c).

Figure 4. Paul Ellenberger’s 1930 recording of ornithopod track painting and

three reconstructions of the creature by paleoscientists.

Dinosaur tracks have been depicted in a number of cases in rock art: in Utah such a pictogram occurs close

to sets of fossil dinosaur footprints; petroglyphs of them have been found in Arizona and Wyoming; in Algeria

legends of a colossal bird relate to Cretaceous dinosaur tracks; while in Australia, the legend of Marella, the

emu-man, derives from theropod tracks (Mayor & Sarjeant, 2001). The rather accurate depiction of a South

African Mesozoic ornithopod is unique, demonstrating not that man and dinosaur coexisted, but that the scientific

acumen of the paleoartists concerned was simply breathtaking.

Shamanism, Neuropathologies, and Rock Art

Mythologies created by rock art researchers and archaeologists are not limited to invented unlikely

meanings, they also include vast numbers of “likely explanations”. Unfortunately, plausibility of interpretations

does not render them any more credible, in fact from the epistemological perspective the unlikely versions are

preferable: they are easier to refute. There is a vast body of literature around the notion that rock artists were

either shamans or suffered from mental illness. The popularity such entirely unfounded fantasies enjoy is

certainly in need of an explanation. It would seem that scientifically based elucidation of rock art lacks public

appeal. It also remains profoundly unknown at what point in human history the practices we define as shamanism

were introduced, despite isolated claims for Holocene evidence (e.g., Porr & Alt, 2006). In the entire

ethnographic world literature there is not a single report of a shaman having produced rock art. There are,

however, numerous cases of rock art production having been observed and recorded or where the authors of the


“art” may be known to us (e.g., Haskovec & Sullivan, 1986; Bednarik, 1998, p. 26). In all such cases no shamans

were involved, and the utilitarian or ceremonial purpose of the rock art, where it is known, lacks any connection

with shamanism. One of the most obvious prerequisites for considering what the characteristics of shamanic art

might be is a definition of its ethnographically demonstrated idiosyncrasies. In the absence of such an explicit

index we lack any definitive way of identifying authentically shamanic art traditions. Moreover, most of the

world’s rock art occurs in regions from which no shamanic practices are known ethnographically. Although none

of this demonstrates that no rock art was ever produced by shamans, the proposition that significant quantities of

rock art are the work of shamans (Lewis-Williams & Dowson, 1988) is unwarranted by the empirical data, and it

is of course untestable. Thus, the null hypothesis, that most rock art is not shamanic, has empirical support; the

favored shamanic hypothesis has none.

Of particular concern are the endemic modes of polemic presented by the shamanists. Rather than citing

ethnographic information they reinterpret the original texts creatively (Hromnik, 1991; Solomon, 1999, 2000; Le

Quellec, 2006; Helvenston, 2012) and replace key terminology with their own preferred words. For instance,

Lewis-Williams replaced the terms “sorcerer, witchdoctor, medicine man” or “healer” (and even “teacher”) with

his preferred word “shaman”. But he believed that was what the ethnographers (e.g., Bleek, 1933, 1935, 1936;

How, 1962; Katz, 1976, 1982; Katz & Biesele, 1986; Lee, 1967; Marshall, 1969; Orpen, 1874; Prins, 1990)

meant when they wrote of sorcerers and medicine men, and that they were too ignorant to understand metaphors.

He also mistranslates the word “medicine man” used by an old Xhosa or Mpondomise woman in relation to the

rock art painters (Lewis-Williams 1986; as cited in Jolly, 1986). When she reported that medicine men went into

a river to catch a snake whose fat they ate and rubbed on their bodies, Lewis-Williams interprets it as a metaphor

for entering trance (the “manipulated evidence”, as cited in Hromnik, 1991). He also conflates

hallucinogen-induced trance with trance involving no drugs, confusing analogical effects with identical causes

(Lewis-Williams, 2002). Similarly, he projects the ethnography of the Kalahari San, who produced no rock art,

onto the extinct/Xam of the Northern Cape, who practiced very little rock painting, and applies his contrived

interpretations to rock paintings elsewhere. Hromnik demonstrates that much of the rock art Lewis-Williams

attributes to San is more likely the work of Hottentots or Khoisan. Just as Lewis-Williams “reinterpreted

creatively” the early ethnographers of the/Xam, he ignored the more recent studies of the Ju/’hoansi by Katz

(1982) and Katz and Biesele (1986), who found no justification for the use of the words shaman and trance.

Similarly, he continues to ignore the advice of those genuinely engaged in the study of authentic shamanism

(Eliade, 1964; De Heusch, 1965; Rouget, 1980; Hamayon, 1982, 1990; Hultkrantz, 1993; Francfort et al., 2001),

although he lacks first-hand knowledge of shamanism. Shamans are specialists, outsiders of society, who have

undergone considerable training to attain their powers, often exercised in seclusion. The dances among the San

Bushmen are communal affairs, with as many as half of the people present participating. There are very few

parallels between genuine shamanism in Eurasia or the Americas, and the southern African practices

Lewis-Williams and his many followers consistently misinterpret. None of these shamanists seem to have in fact

ever met a shaman, or made any attempt to review the living profession, even though thousands of shamans exist

today. The author has worked with and studied shamans in various parts of the world, and not a single one had

ever produced rock art, or even seen any rock art. The author have never observed nosebleeds, and most of

shamans do not “dance”, although they might move in ways one might so interpret. However, the strange body


movements of shamans are not a form of “possession”, as in trance, they are part of their performance. Trance is

not necessarily a part of their technique, and in fact the most powerful among them (as best reflected in the degree

of the respect they command in their community) neither dance or trance (Hamayon, 1995, p. 420), or conduct

themselves in any ecstatic way resembling the reductionist view of shamanism Lewis-Williams and his followers

have conjured up. But the author observed that their power and social influence can be so potent that they eclipse

very strongly ingrained religious practice (see Figure 5). Helvenston (2012) most pertinently observed that

“when faced with uncertainty and the unknown the San resort to supernatural powers, when faced with familiar

tasks like gathering food, or building huts, their approach is scientific”. Similarly when the members of a strictly

Islamic society are faced with taking a life-threatening risk, they turn to the local shaman for protection. As

Consens (1988) observed in his comment on the very first major paper proclaiming Lewis-Williams’ simplistic

shamanist explanation of rock art, “[t]his kind of paper clarifies the limits beyond which we fall into science

fiction”—or, as Helvenston says, into pseudoscience.

Figure 5. The author (with back to camera) participating in an elaborate ceremony conducted by a female shaman, in which she implores the spirits to protect a crew of 12 on an impending dangerous mission. All other men are Moslems,

but for this purpose the power of a shaman is decisively preferred.

Until the shamanists in rock art research present a credible account of what true shamanic art looks like,

and especially what shamanic rock art looks like, they have presented no scientific case. The widespread

unjustified references to shamanism in the rock art literature are as much a form of folklore as are the

interpretations of motifs as dinosaurs. But the issue becomes even more intricate when the literature is

considered that defines shamanism as a manifestation of mental illness, or the related literature defining rock art

as the work of people suffering from a variety of neuropathologies. The altered states in (North American)

shamanism were initially recognized by Oesterreich (1935, p. 295). Peters and Price-Williams (1980, p. 397)

examined them across 42 cultures. Loeb (1924), Radin (1937), and Devereux (1961) defined shamans variously

as epileptic, hysteric, or neurotic, whereas Silverman (1967) introduced the notion that shamanism is an acute

form of schizophrenia. His hypothesis attracted immediate criticism (Handelman, 1968; Weakland, 1968; Boyer,

1969) and was followed by later authoritative work rejecting it (Lex, 1984; Noll, 1983), yet the notion that there


is a connection between shamanism and schizophrenia continued to be pursued in recent years (e.g., Polimeni &

Reiss, 2002; El-Mallakha, 2006). Similarly, Whitley’s (2009) attribution of shamanism to bipolar disorder is

without basis, and none of the writers presenting these claims indicate evidence of significant understanding of

the disorders concerned, of their etiologies, genetic nature, or effects. Most importantly, these neuropathologies

had most probably not even been established in the human genome at the time the earliest palaeoart was created

(Bednarik, 2011, 2012, 2013a, 2013d).

The human brain disease autism (Helvenston & Bednarik, 2011; Bednarik & Helvenston, 2012) has often

been proposed to have been instrumental in introducing Pleistocene palaeoart (Kellman, 1998, 1999;

Humphrey, 1998; Haworth, 2006; Spikins, 2009; Bogdashina, 2010, pp. 159-160; Marr, 1982; Treffert, 2010).

Others have attributed the origins of “art” to Asperger’s syndrome (Spikins, 2009), to schizophrenia or

schizotypy (particularly via shamanism) and to bipolar disorder or cyclothymia. All of these proposals have

been decisively refuted on the basis of the scientific and clinical literature (Bednarik, 2013d), but it has been

recognized that the rubber hand illusion in schizophrenic patients (Peled et al., 2003) has implications for the

notion of out-of-body experiences (Thakkar et al., 2011). It illustrates proprioceptive drift, which can even lead

to out-of-body experiences, linking body “disownership”, psychotic experiences, and a weakened sense of the

self. This may be a factor in shamanic trance, but in every other respect these explanations of rock art

production are essentially myths.

Conclusions

The professed purpose of this paper is to survey the multitude of false claims that have been made about rock

art over the past one and a half centuries. It has failed abysmally in this, because it has only managed to consider

a small segment of the material that needs to be reviewed in this context. There are vast aspects of the topic that

have remained completely untouched here. Among them are the veritable fantasies archaeologists have

concocted about a corpus of human figurines of the Upper Paleolithic of Eurasia, called “Venus figurines”: all of

its underlying assumptions have been challenged and are likely to be false. Or there is the fertile imagination of

hundreds of archaeologists that has given rise to some of the over seventy published interpretations of cupules or

cup-marks, the most common motif in rock art, most of which have no justification. Then there are the endless list

of books and articles written about perceived writing systems in rock art, interpreting and even “deciphering”

rock art motifs as the writing of peoples who have never been demonstrated to have been in the regions concerned.

These exotic writings range from Ogham to Sumerian, from Chinese to Pharaonic Egyptian, and are said to occur

in all continents except Antarctica. There simply seems no end to the profusion of claims about the world’s rock

art that have no credible basis but are often pursued with great enthusiasm, and the author has been much too

optimistic in trying to deal with them meaningfully in this short article. Clearly, this topic should be the subject of

a book—and a rather substantial book at that. Such a volume also needs to consider the etiology of these

misidentifications, by involving neuroscience and the cognitive sciences, and the phenomena of pareidolia and

autosuggestion, which are deeply implicated in these matters.

It should be clarified that many of these misinterpretations are not widely supported by archaeologists, but it

is equally true that a disconcertingly large part of them has been proposed by archaeologists, as is the case in the

majority of those presented here. But the most worrying factor in the present review is the realization that this


paper has only addressed cases that were readily refutable or lacked credibility. The question then arises: how

many claims and interpretations published about rock art are not given such attention, because they seem

reasonable or plausible? Reasonableness does not make them true, and bearing in mind that there are myriad

falsifiable claims about rock art, is it not judicious to suspect that the number of reasonable but ultimately false

claims is much greater?

That defines the issue: if rock art is to be studied credibly and scientifically, all falsities need to be purged

from the discipline. That includes not only the types reviewed here, which were tested and rejected, but also those

that are not tested because they seem reasonably in tune with the dominant dogmas. At this point it becomes

apparent that the task of turning this pastime into a science is Sisyphean.

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Törnudd’s and Siukonen’s Methodical Starting Points of

Music Pedagogy in the Field of Educational Trends

Katri-Helena Rautiainen

University of Jyväskylä, Jyväskylä, Finland

The purpose of this study is to investigate the effect of educational trends on A. Törnudd’s (1913) and V.

Siukonen’s (1929) methods of music education (teaching and singing) in Finland from 1863 to the late 1930s. In

the examination of methods the analysis focuses on the time when Törnudd and Siukonen were influential. A model

of analysis was created in the study, with the help of which common and divergent elements in the educational

trends and methods of music education were sought. According to the study, Törnudd’s pattern singing method

represented the Old School starting points, but he was a supporter of the work school, for instance. Siukonen’s

method was based on the New School principle in which the child-centered education philosophy and the

developmental-psychological growth and development were taken into account in developing the method. Siukonen

raised singing by ear as a central feature, from which children made observations. Methodical transition period took

place at the turn of the 1920s and 1930s. However, in teaching singing, the effects of the new trends were seen as

early as from the late 1910s onwards.

Keywords: Old School, New School, Aksel Törnudd, Vilho Siukonen, elementary school, teacher training college,

music pedagogy

Introduction

The purpose of this research is to find out the influence of major educational trends in Finland on

Aksel Törnudd’s and Vilho Siukonen’s methods of teaching of singing (music education). The examination

of educational trends focuses between the foundation of the Finnish teacher training college institution in

1863 and the late 1930s. Siukonen’s method books, published in 1929, are compared to another significant

music pedagogue, Törnudd, who published already in 1913 his singing didactics and a related songbook.

Both Törnudd’s and Siukonen’s methods were used and applied widely in the Finnish elementary schools

and teacher training colleges in the early decades of the 20th century (Rautiainen, 2003, pp. 329-330).

Hence, comparison of their methods was the object of the study. In addition, the Old and New School

educational trends in Finland are also reviewed, as well as their manifestation in the teaching methods of

these two pedagogues.

The entire spectrum of educational trends could be seen in Finland in the early decades of the 20th century.

In order to clarify their discussion, the author has used the division to Old and New School presented by Lahdes

(1961) here. An analysis model was created for the research, with the help of which the impact of these two

educational trends on Törnudd’s and Siukonen’s methods was analyzed. The phenomena found in the school

Katri-Helena Rautiainen, DMus, Department of Teacher Education, University of Jyväskylä.

DAVID PUBLISHING

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TÖRNUDD’S AND SIUKONEN’S METHODICAL STARTING POINTS

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system were examined with the help of the created analysis model. On the basis of these general

intellectual-historical phenomena, the aim was to inductively come up with a model that guided to search for new

information and to analyze and systemize the collected data (Hirsjärvi, Remes, & Sajavaara, 1997, pp. 140-141).

In this research the phenomenon area includes the New School trends that spread from Europe and

America to Finland, and their comparison mostly to the Old School’s: (1) teacher-centricity; (2) use of patterns;

(3) substantial revision; (4) teaching method based on rote, whose most significant manifestation are; and (5)

Herbart-Zillerian formal degrees. After systematization and classification, the: (1) child’s psychology

(education philosophy arising from the child, child’s individuality, development, and hobbies); (2) independent

initiative (initiative and independent exercises); (3) work school (manual work besides spiritual work,

handicrafts and pottering, “learning by doing” and work notebooks); (4) sociality (pupils’ cooperation and

social intercourses, group work, open teaching discussion); and (5) getting rid of patterns (no formal degrees,

avoiding pattern-oriented methods in teaching, illustrative teaching and the teaching moving on from the

known to the unknown arose as the most central features of the New School (Rautiainen, 2003, pp. 103-104;

2011, p. 29; 2012, p. 8), are examined further in “Educational Trends in Finland”.

Educational Trends in Finland

Starting Points of Educational Trends and the Old School

In Finland the educational discussion and application of these principles into elementary school teaching

started fully when Finland’s first teacher training college educating elementary school teachers was founded in

Jyväskylä in 1863. Uno Cygnaeus (1810-1888) was elected as the founder and developer of the college.

Cygnaeus had gotten his educational influences mainly from Central Europe, Germany, and especially from the

Wettingen teacher training college in Switzerland (Nurmi, 1964, pp. 41-42; Pajamo, 1976, p. 74). Cygnaeus

emphasized the Christian-moral nature and wanted to evoke patriotism. He favored for instance illustrative

teaching, wanted to develop activity based on the pupil’s own work and aimed at combining practice subjects

and knowledge subjects. Cygnaeus was not in favor of excessive cramming or mechanical learning process.

The school also had to have an educational impact. Furthermore, teaching should not be too

information-centerd (Isosaari, 1961, pp. 88-95; Lahdes, 1966, p. 152). Many of Cygnaeus’ aspirations never

reached their fulfillments, because his term of office as the director of the Jyväskylä teacher training college

(1863-1868) was short-lived.

Olai Wallin (1832-1896), the college’s teacher of education, developed Uno Cygnaeus’ starting points

further. Likewise, he aspired to educate his pupils in the Christian-moral spirit and underlined that education is

all about developing the child’s inborn strengths. Wallin also supported teaching based on perception and

independent initiative. He was not keen on mechanical rote, but wanted to develop the pupils’ own thinking

instead. Like Cygnaeus, Wallin also thought elementary school should provide the pupils with the knowledge

and skills that they needed in practical life (Isosaari, 1961, pp. 94-95). Wallin emphasized raising children’s

emotion and will as well as cognitive teaching. It was also important to pay attention to discipline, as he did not

believe in the growth strength of human nature (Suutarinen, 1992, p. 104).

When Finland’s first teacher training college opened its doors, Zachris Joachim Cleve (1820-1900) was

elected as the professor of pedagogy and didactics. Cleve took Hegel’s philosophy and educational principles as

his starting point. The influence of his work could clearly be seen in the development of the elementary school

system and teacher training colleges. Cleve modified Cygnaeus’ suggestion, which can be seen in the


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elementary school decree of 1866. On the other hand, he did not have a major influence on the pedagogy and

didactics of the pedagogy teachers of the teacher training college (Isosaari, 1961, pp. 142, 144).

Finland’s second teacher training college educating elementary school teachers was founded in Sortavala

in 1880. Despite Uno Cygnaeus’ opposition, Bruno Boxström (1855-1921) was elected as the teacher of history

and pedagogy. Boxström’s starting point was a Bible-based Christian philosophy of life. He supported the

ambulatory school, because he did not want schools to share too much information to pupils. In Boxtröm’s

opinion, education and teaching should be based on knowing the development periods. In addition, the

teacher’s persona was more important than the method (Sortavalan Seminaari 1880-1930, 1930, pp. 47, 99;

Suutarinen, 1992, pp. 97-98).

Despite the common aspirations, a common educational view on how to organize the teaching was still

lacking. Even the so-called model courses published in 1881 by the school system board failed to fix the

problem. Their purpose was to balance the syllabuses of different school subjects. Model courses did not

provide clear teaching objectives, and methodological instructions were likewise lacking. There were a lot of

information subjects, but they were hardly applied into practice. Lessons were mostly based on homework

examination, revision and mechanical rote. Not much time was therefore left for preparing new homework

(Lahdes, 1966, p. 154).

The same practical defects continued to exist even after this period, when the Herbart-Zillerian education

philosophy began its domination in the late 19th century. Teaching continued to be teacher-centerd and

pattern-oriented, but at the same time it provided a clearer structure for the course of the lesson, a sort of pattern

to be followed. With the help of these different phases, i.e., patterns, more time was dedicated for learning new

things and applying them in practice.

The Herbartian ideas modified by Mikael Soininen (1860-1924) had a crucial impact on this development

in Finland. He came up with a unified lesson structure in his books Yleinen kasvatusoppi (1895) and

Opetusoppi I-II (1901; 1906). However, it shall be noted that also other representatives of the Herbart-Zillerian

school, Tuiskon Ziller, Wilhelm Rein, Friedrich Wilhelm Dörpfeld, and Karl Lange, had their own share in

developing the formal degrees of Soininen’s didactics (see also Kurvinen, 1960, p. 54; Carnap, 1897, pp. 35,

613). In Soininen’s view, the lesson was to be divided into three sections. The first was the degree of perception,

which included preparing the teaching, presenting the new issues, and advanced handling. The second degree

was the degree of conceptualism, which included the formation of concepts and laws, as well as organizing the

formed concepts. The third degree was the degree of practice (Soininen, 1906, pp. 32-153, 157).

The Herbartian influences could also be seen in the reports of the schoolbook commission (1899) lead by

Y. K. Yrjö-Koskinen (1854-1917), in which school subjects had cognitive-competent and general significances

(Lahdes, 1966, p. 155). He also acted as the teacher of history and pedagogy of the Jyväskylä teacher training

college. During this post he developed the alternate course system. In the alternate course system, the first and

the second year classes, as well as the third and the fourth year classes, were combined into one homework

group that took turns in studying a certain syllabus on alternate years. This practice was used extensively from

the 1890s onwards and it remained dominant up until the 1920s. Herbartian pedagogy and didactics provided a

fertile soil for its application (Harju, 1988, pp. 292-293).

Reformist Pedagogical Trends

While Herbart-Zillerian’s starting points were arriving in Finland, new educational trends were spreading


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elsewhere in the world. Their common feature was education philosophy springing from the child. The child’s

individuality was explored by means of experimental psychology. At the end of the 19th century, an art

education movement had developed in Germany, its basic idea being “vom Kinde aus” (Lahdes, 1961, pp. 7-8;

Grimm, 1915; Kuosmanen, 1915). In the beginning of the 20th century these reformist-pedagogical trends

gradually landed in Finland from Europe and America. Initially, they received plenty of attention in articles

discussing the educational field in Finland.

For instance, in a column in the 1906, Opettajain Lehti newspaper use the pseudonym Mbg (1906)

commented an article by Francois Guex (1861-1918), a Swiss professor. In the article, Guex had divided the

educational trends of the turn of the century into four categories. The classical i.e., historical trend aimed at

raising the child in the spirit of Comenius and Pestalozzi. Leo Tolstoi (1828-1919) and his school of free

education represented the anarchist trend. The New School trend wanted to reform the school into a more

practical direction. The scientific direction demanded studies on children which were based on precise

perceptions and experiments, as well as pedagogy based on them (Mbg, 1906).

Also in the columns of such newspapers as Kansakoulun Lehti, Työkoulu, and Kasvatus ja Koulu, there

was vivid discussion about different New School trends. Especially the work school can be considered one of

the most famous and used New School trends in Finland in the 1910s. The starting point was emphasizing the

pupils’ initiative. In fact, already Cygnaeus’ ideas, for instance on the role of handicrafts, were in line with the

practices of the early 20th century’s work school. Some individuals, such as Kaarle Oksala (1914), the teacher

of history and pedagogy in the Jyväskylä teacher training college, and A. K. Ottelin (1916), who wanted to

combine the new trend and the Herbartian ideologies. Furthermore, Salo (1926) handled Herbart-Zillerism in

his didactics rather superficially and wished that formal degrees would be used flexibly by leaving some parts

out or changing the order, so that the most important methodical principle was in accordance with the New

School. The work school starting points were met with such great enthusiasm that even some Herbartian

supporters became firm supporters of the work school. One of the people who changed their mind was Onni

Rauhamaa (1911), who published his ideas in his book in 1911. In his view, information should be sought by

means of doing, practical work should be taught as an independent subject besides information, and

information-centerd data should be chosen from the realm of the home district (Rauhamaa, 1911, pp. 3, 13-14).

The work school enthusiasm gave inspiration to two remarkable publications by Oskari Mantere (1913)

and Väinö Valorinta (1913), which were published in 1913. According to Mantere, the work school movement

had two directions: One wanted manual work to become a school subject, while the other wanted to include

manual work in every lesson. Valorinta criticized the Old School methods and stated that the child should be

treated as an independent and individual person. He also emphasized that teaching and education should be

based on experimental research and that work and activity should be the starting points of all teaching. At the

same time the emphasis in the learning process shifted from the teacher to the pupil. Work, perception, and

experience were the starting points of learning. Valorinta’s publication was remarkable, also due to the fact that

he applied Finnishness in the New School principles. He encouraged people to read Kalevala and works of

Aleksis Kivi. He held art education in great value too (Valorinta, 1913). At the beginning of 1915, Valorinta

started editing a paper called Työkoulu, which had been published for a while as an appendix called Työ- ja

taidekasvatus in the newspaper Opettajain Lehti. The paper spurred the spreading of the work school ideology

and the New School ideas.

At the turn of the 1930s, the Estonian school system received more and more attention in Finland.


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Especially school exhibitions and their work book collections were admired. They were taken into use

rather quickly besides actual school books (Lahdes, 1961). All in all, teaching in Finland started to be

influenced by an individual working method, its most significant promoter being Sirkkola (1936). She

published a didactics in 1936, which was the first school book published in Finland that was based entirely

on the principles of the New School. The idea was that pupils got the same exercises that each pupil then

did according to his or her individual tendencies. The most important teaching forms were teaching

discussion and work instructions suitable for the upper class. In Sirkkola’s view, the excess use of work

notebooks should be avoided, because they were merely an instrument for learning. Sirkkola’s general

ambition was to remove the negative spirit of discipline and pattern-oriented teaching method that had been

dominant in the elementary school (Sirkkola, 1936).

Despite these reformation aspirations, Soininen’s didactics based on Herbartian formal degrees stood their

ground in Finnish schools. It was only after the war that Matti Koskenniemi’s (1944) didactics put an end to the

long domination of Soininen’s works (Koskenniemi, 1944; Lahdes, 1966, p. 158). On the basis of these foreign

role models, the Finnish experts in education created the educational starting points in the school routines for

the country’s own national needs. Next, these manifestations of the Old and New School in the singing teaching

methods of the music teachers of that time, Aksel Törnudd and Vilho Siukonen, are examined and analyzed.

Starting Points of Törnudd’s Pattern Method and Siukonen’s Analytic-Synthetic Method

Aksel Törnudd (1874-1923) worked as the music teacher of Rauma teacher training college (1898-1919)

and later on also as the elementary school inspector (1919-1923). His method was based on the scale, the triad

and patterns, in which a melody theme of a few notes had been built for each note on the major and minor scale

(e.g., in C major: the pattern of Do: do, re, do, re, do; the pattern of Re: re, mi, fa, re, do; the pattern of Mi: mi,

fa, mi, fa, re, do; the pattern of Fa: fa, sol, la, sol, mi, re, do etc.) (Törnudd, 1913a, 1913b). Törnudd compiled a

rather extensive methodical school book for the purpose of teaching singing. It was published in 1913 by the

name Kansakoulun lauluoppi, and it also included a song book. The book served as a teacher’s guide. It gave

instructions for the songs in the song book and examples on how to teach singing and what matters and aims

the teachers should include in their teaching.

Vilho Siukonen (1885-1941), the teacher of singing of the Sortavala teacher training college (1917-1929),

called his method an “analytic-synthetic” method, which he introduced in his book Laulun opetusoppi (1929b).

He also published a related songbook, Laulukirja (1929a), on the same year. The method starts from a whole

song that is broken down into different parts. In teaching, this means that during singing by ear the basic

concepts of music, i.e., elements, are studied. Gradually and phase by phase, pupils discover the basic issues

that are required for note singing and playing. According to Siukonen, the end result of the analysis is that on

the basis of what they hear, pupils learn to detect and mark the duality and triality of beats, simple note

durations and learn to distinguish the major and minor. Only later on attention is paid to the pitch and note

names on the staff. The teaching progresses by the same principles as above.

According to Siukonen, when learning a song by ear, the analysis exercises may progress for instance in

the following way (Siukonen, 1929a, 1929b): (1) Teacher reads the lyrics from the board. Unfamiliar words are

explained. One of the pupils reads the lyrics and after that, the whole class reads them together; (2) Teacher

sings the song by tapping on the beat notes; (3) Singing together and tapping on the beat notes; (4) Singing the

song; (5) Marking the rhythm of an easy verse with notes above the lyrics on the basis of the teacher’s singing;


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(6) Recognizing the keynote of the song. The song is sung quietly while the teacher plays the long keynote; and

(7) Singing the song. Singing the keynote, and based on the general impression of the song, the song’s triad is

sung. The major triad is jolly and it is taken from the song Arvon mekin ansaitsemme. The minor triad is sad,

and it is taken from the song Taivas on sininen ja valkoinen.

In Siukonen’s method, the analysis is followed by synthesis, i.e., picking out, which can be rhythm or ear

training. The starting point to be examined here is a note picture that is interpreted by setting the rhythm with

lyrics, by singing, or by playing. In other words, Siukonen’s method starts from analysis in which the tune is

first divided into sections and individual notes. This is followed by synthesis, in which notes form tunes.

(Siukonen, 1929b, p. 6). In practice, in Siukonen’s method the musical phenomenon is first understood, i.e.,

heard, and only after that the phenomenon is transferred into the notated form. The teaching focuses on one

matter at a time and the perfect notation is reached only after several exercises. Nowadays this is also known as

active listening, in which the hearer’s ears are sort of opened phase by phase in order to hear different elements

of music. Pupils are advised to pay attention to these matters before the actual listening situation.

The starting point of Siukonen’s method is therefore singing by ear, in which musical thinking is not

required in the beginning, but rather, everything happens by intuition. First, it is discovered that the song is

made up of notes. After that, the force, duration and pitch of the note were examined. Once this had been

discovered, it was written up on the board above the lyrics. These exercises are then followed by dictation and

picking out exercises (Siukonen, 1929b, pp. 39-40).

In contrast, Törnudd did not use the concepts of analysis and synthesis at all. In this respect, comparisons

cannot be made between Siukonen and Törnudd, but there are some essential differences between their

methodical starting points. Törnudd built the songs first on the scale and gradually included triads. When the

distance between the notes was something else, a pattern assisting the interval was introduced. Issues related to

the rhythm were taught only after the melody; whereas Siukonen’s method had a reverse order. The starting

point was the rhythm of the song and the lyrics rhythm of the text. Only after that the melody was observed.

Siukonen started the teaching of music elements and concepts from singing, from which observations were first

made by listening and only after that the perceived phenomenon got a name that was written up. Pupils learned

Törnudd’s songs also by ear, but the musical concepts were given to pupils straight away. Furthermore, patterns

were to be learned by heart. However, in Siukonen’s teaching these aspects were absent. There were also

differences in the way keys were practiced. Törnudd started with keys that had been divided to different year

classes. Almost all old keys were revised every other year. Therefore the teaching programme of the first and

third, as well as that of the second and fourth year class were almost identical. In Siukonen’s teaching the songs

were in different keys straight from the beginning. They were not handled until the fourth year class. Before

this pupils learned to tell the differences between major and minor songs and their basic triad. Unlike Törnudd,

Siukonen’s teaching was not based on revising the syllabus of the year classes, but on each year course the new

matter was connected to matters that had already been learned. Furthermore, on the third year class note names

were introduced, and their teaching was connected to playing harmonium and keyboard. This was absent in

Törnudd’s teaching. Both Törnudd and Siukonen had ear training exercises. Moreover, Siukonen also had

rhythm and note dictation exercises and rhythm training exercises. They both had scale and triad exercises, but

in Siukonen’s teaching they came along in a later phase in teaching. In Törnudd’s classes their practicing

started already on the first singing lesson (Törnudd, 1913a, 1913b; Siukonen, 1929a, 1929b).


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Törnudd’s and Siukonen’s Methods in the Field of Pedagogical Trends and Learning Contents of the Year Classes

When examining the trends of the Old and New School as well as Törnudd’s and Siukonen’s methodical

starting points, several similarities can be found between them. Getting rid of patterns, excess rote-centerd

revision and repetition were among the New School’s aspirations. Getting rid of pattern singing can be

considered a feature of the New School. Törnudd’s method started from learning the melody, in which patterns

were not initially needed. The melodies of the songs were, therefore, based on the scale and the triad. Patterns

were only learned later on, and they were used in practicing intervals. In this respect Törnudd’s method had

been influenced by not only the Old School patterns, but also the New School starting points. However,

Siukonen did not only want to use the scale and triad system, but also considered this starting point insufficient.

Siukonen had to, therefore, create a method that abandoned the melody-centricity of the Old School. Siukonen

placed rhythm as the most central starting point of his method. Another essential change was that the children

were activated as learners to observe phase by phase the music concepts and theory on the basis of the music

they heard. So far the theory had rather been learned by heart. Another Siukonen’s methodical change was that

songs in different keys could be rehearsed straight from the beginning. In Törnudd’s case the patterns forced to

handle the songs by keys. First pupils sang songs that were in C major and then songs in A minor. Other keys

were introduced later on. This principled change also had an impact on the structure of song books. Törnudd’s

songs had been grouped according to keys, while Siukonen’s songs had been organized by themes. New School

features also included Siukonen’s rhythm dictation, rhythm training exercises, and note dictation exercises.

Another new aspect in Siukonen’s method was that teaching progressed with small steps from easy issues to

more difficult ones, new content, and depth, was always added to issues that had been learned the previous year.

According to Törnudd’s Old School principle, the same contents were revised every other year. Only new

songs and patterns built on the scale of different keys brought variation. In the comparison of the methods,

Siukonen’s keyboard pictures representing the keyboard of the harmonium (piano) and pupils’ harmonium

playing can be considered New School influences, increasing pupil’s own activity and functioning as a means

of illustration (Törnudd, 1913a, 1913b; Siukonen, 1929a, 1929b).

Siukonen developed the principles of his method so that the child’s age and development periods were

taken into consideration. According to him, the content to be taught always depended on the children’s

development stage. Furthermore, teaching should progress in the same order as children were able to conceive

different elements of music. This was in fact one of the most remarkable reformations that Siukonen brought

into teaching singing, while in Törnudd’s time it had been rather foreign and was not, therefore, included in

the Old School starting points. In the author’s research, Siukonen’s development periods were divided into the

following age and content periods: (1) perid of rhythtm (at the age of nine, i.e., the 3rd grade); (2) relative

period (at the age of 10, i.e., the 4th grade); (3) absolute period (at the age of 11, i.e., the 5th grade); and (4)

period of form and harmony (at the age of 12, i.e., the 6th grade). The first school years, i.e., the 1st and 2nd

grades of elementary school (ages 7-8) were called the period of song play. According to Siukonen, this

period should include a lot of singing by ear, combined with song plays and rhythmic activities (Rautiainen,

2003, pp. 160, 190-192).

The syllabus of the rhythmic period focuses on the basic concepts of music (note force, beat notes,

off-beat notes, barline, duality and triality, beat, note and pause). Rhythms and values were illustrated also with


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rhythm syllables (e.g., quarter note = tam, two quavers = tara, and dotted quarter note = tamt). Furthermore,

children had rhythm dictation and rhythm training exercises. At the end of the third grade, pupils were prepared

for the upcoming year’s relative ear training. This included learning the keynote, and major and minor triad,

followed by ear training and note dictation exercises.

The syllabus of the relative period continues to broaden tonality, with the main focus on learning singing

names and the relative pitch. During this period, dictation and picking-out exercises take turns, theoretical

knowledge is extended and time signatures are studied.

The absolute period introduces playing names and solid pitch as the new matters. Pupils get to play little

melodies with the harmonium’s keys on the fifth grade. The syllabus of this period differs rather lot from the

previous one, as pupils now practice all major and minor keys. Singing lesson of the absolute period naturally

includes a lot of singing and exercises of the previous period in the form of new songs and exercises.

The period of form and harmony is divided into two phases: practicing musical forms and chords. During

this period attention is paid to the song’s structure. Harmony is practiced with the help of canons and two-toned

songs. When listening to chords, pupils learn to identify dyads, triads, tetrads, and pentads. As in the previous

period, the contents of the previous year classes are deepened further.

Törnudd’s lesson contents cannot be divided into development periods, because when moving from year

class to another, the changes are mostly only changes in keys. The actual content is developed further only

within one year class when moving from one lesson to another but that, also, is revised on upcoming grades. It

is noteworthy that Törnudd included the study of music theory already on the first school years (1st and 2nd

grades). Teaching started with note names (c, d, e, etc.), whose gradual passage, pitch, and the triad were

illustrated with the help of ladders. Whole tones and semitones were also illustrated with the help of it. Singing

names (do, re, mi, etc.,) were also used besides these and finally placed on the staff. In Siukonen’s teaching, on

the other hand, the early school years focused on practicing different songs and song plays. From the third

grade onwards Törnudd’s method included learning values, and singing names were replaced with notes.

Sharps and flats were also introduced at this stage. In addition to scale and triad exercises, pupils also started to

practice the patterns of C major and A minor. According to Törnudd, the previous year’s theory of music was

revised on the fourth grade. The new matters were the new patterns in F, B, and Es, and as major and their

relative keys. The third year matters were revised on the fifth year. Octaves were also introduced at this stage.

The sixth school year manly focused on the fourth year ambitions. New keys included new patterns in G, D, A,

E major, and their relative keys. In Siukonen’s teaching note names came along only on the fifth school year so

that they were taught in two phases. First pupils learned the notes c, d, e, f, g, and then, a, h, and c. Before this,

singing names illustrating the pitch had been used (Törnudd, 1913a, 1913b; Siukonen, 1929a, 1929b).

Conclusions

The purpose of this paper is to examine the impact of educational trends, the Old and the New School, on

Aksel Törnudd’s and Vilho Siukonen’s methods of music education. Examination focused on method books

published by Törnudd in 1913 and Siukonen in 1929. The examination of educational trends is situated

between the foundation of the first teacher training college institution in 1863 and the late 1930s. The Old

School gave gradually way to the reformist-pedagogical trends in the 1910s. This included, for instance, work

school, which got a lot of supporters within the Finnish school system. These trends were also reflected in

Törnudd’s and Siukonen’s methods.


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Törnudd applied Soininen’s Old School formal degrees into the course of the lesson. His teaching method

was also mostly based on the Old School starting points, but it also had a touch of influences from the New

School. The influence of the Old School could be seen in the method in regards of the fact that music theory

and also teaching singing were based on teacher-centerd approach. Teacher taught music theory to children,

who had to learn it by heart. The method started with melodies that were built on the scale and the triad. If the

scale and the triad were not enough, patterns were used. The influence of the New School could, therefore, be

seen when it was not necessary to use patterns. In contrast, the starting point of Siukonen’s teaching was based

on the aspirations of the New School, taking the child’s developmental-psychological starting points into

consideration. The whole progression of teaching music was based on considering the child’s development. On

the basis of that, Siukonen changed the dominant method based on pattern singing. The starting point was now

singing by ear, from which the rhythm was first examined. Pitch and harmony came along only later on.

Törnudd’s exercises were done at the beginning of the lesson as separate exercises without any connection

whatsoever to the song to be sung. In contrast, Siukonen combined rhythm, note dictation, rhythm, and ear

training exercises with the song to be sung in the lesson. When practicing the pitch, Siukonen first used singing

names. He also used them when illustrating the major and minor, whereas Tördnudd used both note names and

singing names side by side straight from the beginning. Abundant revision, which was typical of the Old

School, could be seen in Törnudd’s method when practicing patterns. Likewise, repetition was seen every other

year when the same syllabuses were revised. Siukonen’s lessons were not based on formal degrees but they

varied flexibly according to needs. Furthermore, on each year class the new matter was based on matters

learned earlier and then processed further. Finally, the work school starting points could be raised from the

New School features and it could be concluded that although its use spread rather quickly to Finnish schools,

Siukonen did not give any instructions or comments for its utilization. Apparently he did not consider the

workbook method necessary in music teaching. On the other hand, the very idea of work school was learning

by doing and increasing the pupils’ spontaneous practicing, which as such were included also in Siukonen’s

methodical starting points. In contrast, Törnudd considered the work school principles rather important.

However, it becomes apparent only from his articles, in which he rather over-flowingly supports the

implementation of the work school ideology at school (Törnudd, 1915a, 1915b).

Although Törnudd’s method was mostly based on the Old School starting points, it can be considered a

remarkable step forward in the development of Finnish music teaching. At the same time Törnudd’s singing

didactics was the first method book applied for Finnish needs, in which educational starting points had been

applied. On the one hand, Törnudd’s didactics was extensive and versatile by its contents. It gave plenty of

practical examples on the course of the lesson and progression of the method on different class years. It was

therefore met with enthusiasm in Finnish teacher training colleges. The versatility of the book may have had a

major influence on how Törnudd’s didactics was used even after the publication of Siukonen’s didactics in

1929. On the other hand, the methodical revolution started in Finland already at the turn of the 1920s and 1930s,

at the same when patterns were gradually abandoned. It is noteworthy that the Old School principles were

abandoned in music teaching (singing) at least a decade before the 1940s, which has been suggested by Lahdes

(1961). It shall also be noted that the influences of new trends in teaching singing could be seen at least ever

since the late 1910s. Through his articles and presentations and his work as the music teacher of Sortavala

teacher training college, Siukonen had made his method famous before the actual publication of his didactics.

Therefore, the seed of reformation had been planted a lot earlier. At the same time, the work had paved the way


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for a new change and development, the roots of which reach up until today’s music teaching.

This year 2013 is the Finnish teacher training college’s 150th jubilee year. At the same time, the

University of Jyväskylä will return to its roots of origin, where the far-reaching foundation of the Finnish

school system was laid, and on which the acclaimed education system was later created and developed. This

development was greatly influenced by Törnudd and Siukonen, whose methodical starting points of music

inspired critical discussion in the music teaching pedagogy of their time, and at the same time they give us an

example on how the pedagogical trends also contributed to the development of methods of teaching singing.

References Carnap, A. (1897). Friedrich wilhelm dörpfeld. Gütersloh: C. Bertelsmann. Grimm, L. (1915). The work school’s predecessors (Työkouluaatteen edeltäjät!). Opettajain Lehti, 9, 115. Harju, M. (1988). Supervision of rural elementary schools in 1861-1921 (Maalaiskansakoulujen tarkastustoimi vuosina

1861-1921). Studia Historica Jyväskyläensia, 38. Hirsjärvi, S., Remes, P., & Sajavaara, P. (1997). Study and write (Tutki ja kirjoita) (3rd ed.). Tampere: Tamper-Paino Oy. Isosaari, J. (1961). Teaching of educational sciences and didactics in the Jyväskylä teacher training college in 1865-1901

(Jyväskylän seminaarin kasvatus—ja opetusopin opetus vuosina 1865-1901). Jyväskylän kasvatusopillisen korkeakoulun julkaisuja , 25.

Koskenniemi, M. (1944). Elementary school’s didactics (Kansakoulun opetusoppi ). Helsinki: Otava. Kuosmanen, R. (1915). Pezzlozzista as the father of the work school (Pestalozzista työkoulun isänä). Opettajain Lehti, 16,

210-212. Kurvinen, O. (1960). The formal degrees of Mikael Soininen’s didaktics (Mikael Soinisen opetusopin muodolliset asteet). In M. A.

Sainio (Ed.), Mikael Soininen 3.11.1860—12.3.1924 (pp. 48-63). Jyväskylän Kasvatusopillisen Korkeakoulun julkaisuja, 22.

Lahdes, E. (1961). Influence of the new school on Finland’s elementary schools (Uuden koulun vaikutus Suomen kansakouluun). Helsinki: Otava.

Lahdes, E. (1966). Development lines of didactics (Didaktiikan kehityslinjoja). In A. Valtasaari, A. Henttonen, L. Järvi, & V. Nurmi (Eds.), Elementary school 1866-1966 (Kansakoulu 1866-1966) (pp. 151-172). Helsinki: Otava.

Mbg, E. V. (1906). Modern educational trends (Nykyajan kasvatusopilliset suunnat). Opettajain Lehti, 9, 85-87. Nurmi, V. (1964). Birth and development of teacher training colleges in Finland in the last century II: Didactic Part (Maamme

seminaarien varsinaisen opettajakoulutuksen synty ja kehittyminen viime vuosisadalla II: Didaktinen osa). Jyväskylä Studies in Education, Psychology, and Social Research, 7.

Pajamo, R. (1976). Teaching of singing in Finnish schools 1843-1881 (Suomen koulujen laulunopetus vuosina 1843-1881). Acta musicologica fennica, 7, Diss. Helsinki.

Rauhamaa, O. (1911). An act of the principle to be applied in a primary school education (Teon periaatteen sovelluttamisesta kansakoulun opetukseen). Helsinki: Otava.

Rautiainen, K.-H. (2011). Influence of pedagogical trends on Aksel Törnudd’s and Vilho Siukonen’s music pedagogy. J. Davidova (Ed.). Problems In Music Pedagogy, 9, 27-41.

Rautiainen, K.-H. (2012). Comparing A. Törnudd’s and V. Siukonen’s music lesson structures from the perspective of educational trends. In T. Selke, G. Lock, M. Môistlik, & P. Beaudoin (Eds.), The changing face of music and art education. Interdisciplinary Journal for Music and Art Pedagogy, 4(1), 7-15.

Rautiainen, K-H. (2003). External and internal structure of singing lessons: Aksel Törnudd (1874-1923) and Wilho Siukonen (1885-1941) as developers of methods of teaching singing at teacher training colleges and elementary schools 1893-1941 (Laulutunnin ulkoinen ja sisäinen rakenne: Aksel Törnudd (1874-1923) ja Wilho Siukonen (1885-1941) seminaarien ja kansakoulun laulunopetusmenetelmien kehittäjinä 1893-1941). The Sibelius-Academy. Studia Musica 19. Joensuu: Joensuun yliopistopaino.

Salo, A. (1926). Primary school’s didactics I (Alakansakoulun opetusoppi I). Yleiset opetusopilliset suuntaukset. Helsinki: Otava. Sirkkola, M. (1936). The work school: Experiments for reforms of elementary schools (Oman työn koulu: Kokeita kasakoulun

uudistamiseksi). Helsinki: WSOY. Siukonen, V. (1927). Different conceptions on the basic questions of teaching singing in schools (Erilaisia käsityksiä koulun

laulunopetuksen peruskysymyksistä). The jubilee for Ilmari Krohn 8.11.1927 (Juhlakirja Ilmari Krohn’ille 8.11.1927). Helsinki: Suomen Musiikkitieteellinen Seura.


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Siukonen, V. (1929a). Song book: Songs for the home and the school (Laulukirja: Koulun ja kodin lauluja). Helsinki: Otava. Siukonen, V. (1929b). Didactics of singing (Laulun opetusoppi). Helsinki: Otava. Soininen, M. (1895). General didactics (Yleinen kasvatusoppi). Helsinki: Otava. Soininen, M. (1901). Didactics I (Opetusoppi I). Helsinki: Otava. Soininen, M. (1906). Didactics II (Opetusoppi II). Helsinki: Otava. Sortavalan seminaari 1880-1930 (The Sortavala Teacher Training Collega 1880-1930). (1930). Helsinki: Valistus. Suutarinen, S. (1992). Herbartian pedagogical reformation: In Finland’s elementary schools at the beginning of the century

(1900-1935) (Herbartilainen pedagoginen uudistus: Suomen kansakoulussa vuosisadan alussa (1900-1935)). Jyväskylä Studies in Education, Psychology And Social Research, 90.

Törnudd , A. (1915a). About the teaching of singing I (Laulunopetuksesta. I). Työkoulu, 1, 6-8. Törnudd, A. (1913a). Theory of teaching singing in elementary schools (Kansakoulun lauluoppi). Porvoo: WSOY. Törnudd, A. (1913b). School’s song book (Koulun laulukirja). Porvoo: WSOY. Törnudd, A. (1915b). About the teaching of singing II (Laulunopetuksesta. II). Työkoulu, 2, 24-27. Valorinta, V. (1913). The new school’s marks (Uuden koulun merkkejä). Porvoo: WSOY. Weber, E. (1915). What is a “work school”? II (Mitä on ”työkoulu”? II). Kansakoulun Lehti, 226-227. Wolgast, H., & Götze, C. (1915). What is a “work school”? III (Mitä on “työkoulu”? III). Kansakoulun Lehti, 287-289.


From a Local Jazz Club to the Best Venue in the World:

Montmartre Jazz House, Copenhagen, 1959-1976*

Frank Büchmann-Møller

Academy of Music and Dramatic Arts, Odense, Denmark

Montmartre Jazz House in Copenhagen became one of the most famous venues in Europe. This paper describes its

history, from the first concert performed by the American jazz musician George Lewis and His New Orleans

Orchestra to the turbulent and economical difficult years in the 1970’s when the owner, Herluf Kamp-Larsen, had

to declare himself bankrupt. A couple of Danish jazz musicians, trumpet player Palle Mikkelborg (1941-) and

pianist Ole Kock Hansen (1945-), explain the importance of the venue, and some of the most legendary jazz

musicians that were hired during the clubs history are mentioned. The paper is based upon the author’s book upon

the venue and gives a survey of the history of Montmartre Jazz House. The research for the book includes lots of

concert reviews, interviews with many musicians, members of the staff and Herluf Kamp-Larsen, and besides, the

writer had access to the archive of the jazz house.

Keywords: Jazz music, Herluf Kamp-Larsen, Jazz venue, Montmartre Jazz House, Jazz history, Europe, Denmark

Introduction

Montmartre1 Jazz House was a rather small club located in the center of the city of Copenhagen in Store

Regnegade 19, a few hundred yards from the Royal Theatre. The club could accommodate about 150 people, only,

and you entered the club through a gateway and an entrance to the left. The only way you could recognize the

club from the outside was a rather large photostat in a window of Count Basie pointing to the entrance. No name

of the club was visible from the outside. During the years 1959-1976, thousands of people, Danes and foreigners,

passed through this entrance, and for most of them the club provided them with some of their greatest musical

experiences ever. The jazz house was also instrumental in causing quite a few of the visiting American musicians

to choose Copenhagen as their new home. Among these musicians were saxophonists Stan Getz, Dexter Gordon,

Ben Webster, and Sahib Shihab, trumpet players Idrees Sulieman and Don Cherry, pianist Kenny Drew, and

bassist Oscar Pettiford. So it is easy to understand why many get nostalgic when the name Montmartre Jazz

House comes up during a conversation.

The venue was known as one of the most important jazz clubs in Europe during its heydays, on a par with

Ronnie Scott’s Club in London and Blue Note in Paris. The writer visited the venue several times and has lasting

and vivid memoires from hearing saxophonists Ben Webster, Hank Mobley, Dexter Gordon, Roland Kirk, Sonny

* Paper presented at The 8th Nordic Jazz Conference, Aalborg, Denmark, August 25-27, 2009.

Frank Büchmann-Møller, librarian, Academy of Music and Dramatic Arts. 1 A feature in Danish National TV, broadcast December 18, 1976.

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FROM A LOCAL JAZZ CLUB TO THE BEST VENUE IN THE WORLD 513

Rollins, and Yusef Lateef, pianists McCoy Tyner and Bill Evans, trumpet players Freddie Hubbard and Art

Farmer, just to name a few.

The history of Montmartre falls in three parts. The first one lasted a short year only, as Anders Dyrup who

founded the club, got involved in other businesses in Germany. The second period was the one when Herluf

Kamp-Larsen took over, and the third period came when he went bankrupt in 1974 and another management tried

to continue the club, but had to go out of business in February, 1976.

The First Year

Anders Dyrup who was an architect, was the chairman of a jazz club in Copenhagen called Club Montmartre,

and he bought the venue in Store Regnegade 19 in late 1958 and had it renovated and decorated by a group of

young Danish artists. On the opening night February 17, 1959, George Lewis and His New Orleans Orchestra

played to an enthusiastic audience. Montmartre was still a jazz club with a membership policy, but it was also

open to the public, who had to pay a slightly higher entrance fee. New Orleans jazz and Dixieland were very

popular in Denmark at the moment, so Dyrup hired not only mostly jazz bands in those styles, of course, but also

swing bands and the fine Danish modern jazz trumpet player Jørgen Ryg with bassist Erik Moseholm and pianist

Finn Savery’s trio were hired once in a while.

Most importance for the image of the club was when Dyrup hired saxophonist Stan Getz who wanted to have

Copenhagen as his base for a while. Getz had come to Europe in 1958 with Norman Granz’s Jazz at the

Philharmonic tour and stayed on in Europe the following two years, first in Paris, then in Stockholm, after which

he came to Denmark. Getz played his first job at Montmartre with pianist Mose Allison on March 20, 1959. Many

years later, Dyrup vividly remembered the music as being the most beautiful and the most naturally swinging he

ever heard.

During the summer of 1959, Getz got American bassist Oscar Pettiford to move up to Copenhagen from

Paris, and Swedish pianist Jan Johansson who Getz had played with in Stockholm, to move down to Copenhagen

to play with him at the Montmartre. After this engagement, Getz was hired to clubs in other European countries,

so Pettiford took over and formed the first of several prominent Montmartre rhythm sections over the years, this

time with Johansson and the leading Danish drummer William Schiöpffe. During the following months they

backed the Danish vibraphonist Louis Hjulmand, trumpet players Benny Bailey, Stan Getz, and Don Byas,

among others.

Stan Getz was not very much involved in the local jazz milieu in Copenhagen, but Pettiford was. Therefore,

even if he died already in September 1960, his musical footprints became much more felt than Getz’s. His

professionalism and energy pushed the best Danish jazz musicians to higher levels, and he was a big inspiration

for the upcoming Niels-Henning Ørsted Pedersen. He also taught Jan Johansson how to use his left hand more,

thus, giving his accompaniment and solos more substance. All in all, he was a very helpful and dedicated

musician from a generation where it was natural to share one’s knowledge so that everyone—both the ensemble,

but also the audience—benefited from it.

The Montmartre business was not healthy during the first year. The club was rather small and could only

hold an audience of about 150 persons, and when the house was packed only kr800 (= ca $120) came in as

entrance fee. This shall be seen in comparison with the pay that the musicians got. Normally, a musician got paid


kr100 a night, but Getz asked for kr1200—but reduced it to kr700 to help Dyrup with the economy—and

Pettiford got kr500. On the last day of January 1960, Dyrup closed Club Montmartre because it needed

renovation. Also, he had worked up rather a large deficit on the account, so he decided to take a break.

Herluf Kamp-Larsen Takes Over

The break became longer and longer, mostly because Dyrup had to travel to Germany in his work for the

record company Storyville/Sonet. In late 1961, he finally decided to sell Montmartre, because he realized that he

couldn’t take care of both businesses at the same time, and this was where Harold Goldberg and Herluf

Kamp-Larsen entered the stage. Goldberg was an American pianist who had settled in Copenhagen, and he had

also played at Club Montmartre several times. Goldberg knew Herluf Kamp-Larsen, a jazz loving waiter who had

served a jazz loving public at a series of local pubs. Kamp-Larsen and Goldberg agreed to buy Store Regnegade

19, and for Kamp-Larsen, it was a dream coming true:

I had for a long time an idea of opening my own venue after having been in Paris at the club Le Chat Qui Pêche. Here, a pianist played, and musicians came by and sat in. I was very fascinated by that and thought that at some time or another I would like to have a place like that. (personal communication, November 7, 2007)

Goldberg and Kamp-Larsen reopened the venue on New Year’s Eve, 1961, changing its name to

Montmartre Jazz House. The main attraction was American tenor saxophonist Brew Moore who became a

mainstay at Montmartre the following years. His Lester Young-inspired playing almost free of clichées was a

success, and after the opening night, Goldberg said to Kamp-Larsen, that he didn’t think it was necessary to

change the program ever. Brew Moore played for the whole of January 1962, the first soloist to have such a

long engagement there, a policy, however, that became the norm in the future. This way, a new soloist could be

familiar with the accompanying rhythm section, so that after a few nights the group could manifest itself and

thus gave the audience a greater performance than if they had only played for a couple of nights. On the other

hand, Danish upcoming musicians could check out the guest soloists night after night and maybe also sit in

with them. The pianist Torben Kjær told that he:

Heard Dexter Gordon, Ben Webster, and Johnny Griffin, it was so great. Also to detect how they formed their music and how they had problems having it coming off, because it was not every time it came out as planned. It was a genuine education. The importance of Montmartre was first and foremost local, it was of invaluable importance to us musicians in the Copenhagen area. When Dexter Gordon told me: “Torben, you play too long solos” and he played 48 choruses himself, then you later on understood what he meant. (personal communication, September 24, 2007)

Pianist Ole Kock Hansen also looks at Montmartre as the rhythmic conservatory of the time:

On one of my jobs with Dexter Gordon, he asked me to accentuate more the leading notes of the chords. At first, I did not know what he meant, but I took the advice back home in my study to work on it, and later on I benefited from it, both as an accompanist and as an arranger. (personal communication, December 11, 2007)

Due to fortunate circumstances, Herluf Kamp-Larsen was able to become the sole manager, and he turned

out to be an excellent leader in his own way. He was not very good in English, and he was a shy person who

favored talking to people he already knew, so how did he come in contact with foreign American musicians?

Well, he did get some helps along the way. Kamp-Larsen knew Anders Stefansen, who was an upcoming

organizer of jazz concerts in Copenhagen, and through him he got some musicians to Montmartre, among them


saxophonists Don Byas, Roland Kirk, Coleman Hawkins, Albert Ayler, Ben Webster, Johnny Griffin, and Sahib

Shihab, pianists Bill Evans and Teddy Wilson, trunpet players Rex Stewart and don Cherry, and violinist Stuff

Smith. One of them gave Kamp-Larsen two directories over American musicians, one over New York based

musicians and the other one covering the rest of the United States. When Kamp-Larsen returned to his home after

a long night and had difficulty falling asleep, he thought about musicians he would like to present. He recorded

his wishes on a small tape recorder, and the next morning he listened to the tape, found the musicians’ addresses

and wrote to them, or rather, he had some of the women who worked in the kitchen of Montmartre do it for him.

Working Conditions for the Musicians

Montmartre had during the years become a club with a legendary reputation, and for good reasons.

Especially during Kamp-Larsen’s management which at the same time was both loose and tight, the musicians

worked under what could be called freedom with responsibility. The American musicians were used to rather

strict club owners who wanted this and that, but at Montmartre it was up to their own better judgment how and

what to play. Kamp-Larsen never interfered as long as the music did not start too late after the fixed time. The

waiters and the personnel in the kitchen were also kind to the musicians, and there was no discrimination in

Copenhagen at that time. All in all, this made the venue a good place to work, primarily also due to the excellent

rhythm sections. Johnny Griffin played at the Montmartre several times—he was very popular with the

Copenhagen audiences—and he knew a lot of European and American clubs. He summed it all up in this way:

“Montmartre was the best jazz venue in Europe, not to say in the whole world—and they didn’t even know it!”

(Frank & Henrik, 2008, p. 214)

During the years, Kamp-Larsen presented jazz music of every style, from Danish New Orleans bands such

as the Theis-Nyegaard Jazz Band to American avantgarde musicians like Albert Ayler, Don Cherry, and Cecil

Taylor. But it was a number of American musicians rooted in bop, hard bop, and cool that were stylistically

dominant. Among these were the pianists Bud Powell, Horace Parlan, Duke Jordan, Al Haig, Joe Albany, and

Abdullah Ibrahim—at that time known as Dollar Brand—and Bill Evans, the tenor saxophonists Dexter Gordon,

Brew Moore, Lucky Thompson, Roland Kirk, Booker Ervin, Johnny Griffin, Yusef Lateef, Jimmy Heath,

Clifford Jordan, Hank Mobley, Joe Henderson, Stan Getz, and Sonny Rollins, the alto saxophonists Leo Wright,

Sahib Shihab, Phil Woods, and Lee Konitz, the trumpet players Kenny Dorham, Donald Byrd, Art Farmer,

Carmell Jones, Charles Tolliver, and Freddie Hubbard. Among the musicians of the swing era, Ben Webster was

the one most associated with Montmartre. Beside the big names, Kamp-Larsen also featured Danish groups, and

especially after 1970 these were preferred to American musicians because they were cheaper and the economy

had become more sensitive. Finally, he was very generous towards the young avantgarde musicians such as

saxophonist John Tchicai, who got a chance on Monday nights—the night off for the main attractions.

The soloists, who normally did not bring their own rhythm group, needed one, and from an early stage

Kamp-Larsen instigated a house rhythm section. The first one had Bent Axen at the piano, but he didn’t last long

and was replaced by the Spanish virtuoso Tete Montoliu, and in 1964 Kenny Drew took over for seven years to

come. Bassist Niels-Henning Ørsted Pedersen played his first engagement in March 1962, not yet 15 years old,

accompanying Bud Powell, and he became the permanent bass player in 1963 when he left high school. The drum

chair was first occupied by William Schiöpffe, who was relieved by Alex Riel, Al Heath, and Makaya Ntshoko


respectively. All these musicians were able to give the best soloists first class accompaniment and thus

contributed to the high musical standard at Montmartre. From 1970 there came a shift from a house rhythm

section on a permanent basis to rhythm sections of more varied local musicians, who now had developed a

stronger capability.

Financial Problems Turn up

For some years, everything went well at the Montmartre, especially considering that there were no public

financial support, but around 1970 everything became more difficult, and to help the economy of the jazz house,

several Danish jazz groups played for free during two months in the Spring of 1970 and, likewise, the following

two Springs.

There were several reasons for the financial crisis. American musicians now wanted to bring their own

groups which of course made it harder to pay names like the Harold Land-Bobby Hutcherson Quintet, Tony

Williams Lifetime, Herbie Hancock’s Sextet, Weather Report, Mahavishnu Orchestra, Chick Corea’s Return to

Forever, McCoy Tyner’s Quartet, or Charles Mingus’ Quintet, all ensembles that were presented in the early

1970’s, not to speak of big bands like that of Gil Evans and the Thad Jones—Mel Lewis Jazz Orchestra, both

guesting Montmartre in 1974. A new tax system, the withholding tax, was introduced in 1970 and this

immediately caused problems for all music clubs and venues, including Montmartre, because it meant an increase

of the entrance fee of about 40 pct. Flight tickets had also become more expensive, especially during the oil crisis,

and the growing popularity of rock had also made the jazz audience more scarce. All this resulted in an

accumulation of debts so high that Kamp-Larsen had to declare himself bankrupt in November 1974.

The jazz house was such an important institution in the Danish jazz milieu that forces were joint to reopen

it under a new management. On February 27, 1975, Dexter Gordon on his 52nd birthday played to a full house,

but the management never got the chance to carry on the tradition from Kamp-Larsen. The owner of the building,

Alex Friedman, wanted to make the upper floors into apartments and the ground floor to an office, so the last

jazz music in St. Regnegade 19 was played on February 15, 1976, almost exactly 17 years after George Lewis’s

first concert there.

Nevertheless, during the last year, some memorable music was presented, such as, Clifford Jordan Quartet,

Johnny Griffin, Jimmy Heath, Duke Jordan, and Elvin Jones Quartet. Warne Marsh and Lee Konitz closed the

year 1975, while Palle Mikkelborg’s new ensemble Entrance played to a packed and enthusiastic audience in

February 1976.

You cannot overestimate the importance of Montmartre. Trumpet player and composer Palle Mikkelborg

(1941- ) compared what happened in Montmartre to a crystal that became enlightened:

The more it became enlightened by Dexter Gordon, Sonny Rollins, Yusef Lateef, and Kenny Dorham, the more powerful and beautiful its shining. Not till now, I really understand how important Montmartre was to us, how important it was that there was such a crystal to shine upon us. (Frank, B.-M., & Henrik, W.-I, 2008, p. 25)

Though the Danish jazz musicians were lucky to benefit from this crystal for many years, it also had a

negative side effect, because the crystal shone so heavily, that it took much longer for them to find their own

voice compared to other Scandinavian jazz musicians.


Shortly after the closing of Montmartre Jazz House, efforts were made to open a new venue at another place

in the centre of Copenhagen, and already in September 1976 a different Montmartre opened, this time in

Nørregade 41. With different managements along the way, the venue would offer all kinds of jazz, and also in its

later years rock, pop, hiphop, world music etc., until it had to be closed in January 1995. The connection of jazz

and the name of Montmartre in Copenhagen didn’t stop there, because in May 2010 a new venue called Jazz

House Montmartre reopened at the old address, Store Regnegade 19. The interior has changed, as there had been

all kinds of businesses there since 1976, but the music offered is still international and Danish acoustic jazz.

Even if most of the music played at the old Montmartre Jazz House only exists in the memories of those

fortunate people who visited the venue, luckily much jazz has survived. Danish National Radio broadcasted

almost every week from the venue—usually on Thursdays—and many of these broadcasts have since been issued

on both LP’s and CD’s. But also other recordings were made there, so that now you can listen to, among others,

Ben Webster, Dexter Gordon, Kenny Dorham, Sonny Rollins, Stuff Smith, Cecil Taylor, Don Byas, Johnny

Griffin, Albert Ayler, Bill Evans, Brew Moore, and Roland Kirk, all jazz performers that peaked musically

during those years.

Conclusions

Montmartre Jazz House was during the years 1959-1976 instrumental in making Copenhagen the jazz

capital of Europe. The music offered was played by some of the greatest American jazz musicians, and quite a

few of them made Copenhagen their base of operations in Europe. The musical spectrum was a varied one, from

dixieland to swing, from bop to neo-bop, from cool jazz to avantgarde jazz, from modal music to fusion, from

American to Danish jazz, and from other-European to African jazz. All this music was—with a few

exceptions—provided without public financial support. Almost 40 years after the gateway was closed, “the old

Montmartre” remains unsurpassed as the most legendary club in the Danish jazz history.

Reference

Büchmann-Møller, F. (2006). Someone to Watch Over Me; the life and music of Ben Webster. Ann Arbor, MI: University of Michigan Press.

Büchmann-Møller, F., & Wolsgaard-Iversen, H. (2008). Montmartre: Jazzhuset i St. Regnegade 19, Kbhvn K: 1959-1976. Copenhagen: Jazzsign & Syddansk Universitetsforlag.

Christiansen, O. (1994). At Carl and Herluf’s place (Henne hos Carl og Herluf). Copenhagen: Vindrose. Harsløf, O., & Slumstrup, F. (Ed.). (2011). Jazzi Danmark, 1950-2010. Copenhagen: Politiken. Keller, J. R. K. (1999). Herluf. Jazz Special, 48, 25-30. Kjellberg, E. (1998). Jan Johansson. Stockholm: Swedish Music information Center. Wiedemann, E. (1996). The Montmartre, 1959-76. Musik & Forskning, 21, 274-293.


The Modals as Pragmatic Softening Devices: Evidence From

Late Modern English Grammar and Manner Books

Hiroshi Obara

Freelance, Tokyo, Japan

In this research, the author considers the evidence provided by a corpus of Late Modern English grammars for our

understanding of the development of the modals as politeness markers. It is possible to see how the modals and

their accompanied senses are explained in an official (and often either prescriptive or proscriptive) perspective.

This is another aspect which cannot be ascertained from the usage based on corpora which seem to be popular as

sources of evidence in historical pragmatics. In this sense, this research brings some novel perspective to this aspect

of academic study. It is possible to notice that the significations involves concept or senses which extend across a

semantic—pragmatic domain which includes politeness. We can see that certain softening senses are key elements

to mark polite usage. The main data used come from the descriptions of the modal auxiliary verb in a corpus of

grammar books from the period. Usage and manner books are also consulted as a secondary resource. The manner

book in particular is quite helpful for our understanding of how linguistic politeness was regarded at the time. Such

texts also help us to find a certain network of senses which are related to polite expressions.

Keywords: modals, network of senses, historical development, politeness expression

Introduction

It is not an exaggeration to say that, in Japan, the English modals are taught as if they are almost equal to the

terms of respect (as cited in Horiguchi, 2001). However, it is also true that often the modals are not regarded as

the expression of politeness when the terms are being used to translate polite expressions from Japanese into

English. This paper aims at investigating the emergence of the relationship between politeness and the use of the

modal auxiliary verb in late Modern English. First, examples of data from the period are introduced. Second, a

possible network structure in terms of the relation between modal senses is suggested. Then, an advanced

network model is proposed to clarify the mechanism of the conceptualization of politeness with the modal

auxiliary verb. The author begins with a discussion of data from 48 grammar books he consulted.

Data and Method

Each modal auxiliary verb is often analysed extensively by LmodE grammarians. Some examples of

definitions of the meanings of the modals from the grammar books are provided in Examples (1)-(3).

Example (1) Will: purpose, foretell (first person); Shall: foretell (second, third persons), threaten,

Hiroshi Obara, Ph.D. in University of Edinburgh, freelance, Tokyo.

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THE MODALS AS PRAGMATIC SOFTENING DEVICES 519

command; Can, Could: power, ability; Would: will, inclination; Should: future event, duty;

Must: necessity. (Meilan, 1803, pp. 59, 61, 62)

Example (2) Will, Shall: future (different nuances depending on persons); May, Might: liberty with some

doubt, wish (may), permission, advice, elegantly soften a question; Can, Could: ability; Must:

indispensable necessity. (Angus, 1812, pp. 68, 70)

Example (3) Will: volition (internal, predictive + promissive); Shall: future destination (external, predictive

only); May: permissive, power (external); Can: potential, power (internal); Must: necessity.

(Latham, 1841, pp. 486-487)

While each modal has its own set of meanings, some of these overlap with those of the other modal

auxiliaries, even if they are not completely synonymous. As a detailed description with regard to the senses which

can be expressed by the modal auxiliary verb, Fell’s work An Essay Towards an English Grammar (1784) stands

out. His description of could is given as Example (4). We can clearly see how Fell believed that the uses could be

differentiated depending on contexts and circumstances:

Example (4) Could (as the past tense of can, in the indicative mode)

But could is also used in a peculiar and hypothetical sense, without any regular respect to

time:

After conditional terms, denoted hypothetical or conditional power:

I were but little happy, if I could say how much.

Could is often used to denote the possible consequence of some conditional event:

But you, my brace of Lords, were I so minded, I here could pluck his highness’ frown upon

you.

Could, placed after terms of wishing, denotes an hypothetical possibility:

O! That it could be proved, that some night-tripping fairy had exchanged;—Oh! Could our

mourning ease thy misery; I wish, I could know that to be, just as thou informest me; I with I

could depart from my own body; I would I could see that happy day.

Could is sometimes used in a sense so entirely hypothetical, that it only imitates what would

be the bias of the mind, were there a possibility of the thing:

Now could I wish to ascend the chariot of Triptolemus; now could I desire to yoke the

dragons of Medea; now could I wish to take wings to be waved, either thine Perseus, or thine,

O Dædalus!

Could, is used to imitate both present power, and a strong inclination, with an ellipsis of some

condition:

Although I could tell thee as a friend, I could be sad, and sad indeed; he could never come

better, he shall come in; I could tell you more news too; Marcellus and Flavius are put to

silence. (as cited in Fell, 1784, pp. 174-176)

The senses which are described here are those often associated with modality, such as hypotheticality,

conditionality, and possibility. Moreover, while the different modal senses overlap with each other, it is the subtle

conditions of use which allow us to distinguish and differentiate each possible utterance. The descriptions of the

modal auxiliary verb in some of the grammar books tell of the similarity and variety of the modal sense.


Furthermore, there are examples available which seem to suggest the traces of a semantic—pragmatic

change associated with the interpretation of the modal auxiliary verb. Consider the following series of citations

which were extracted from Sweet (1903), see Examples (5)-(6):

Example (5) Under conditional we include all combinations of would and should with infinitives which

are not clearly futures, even when their functions are not really conditional. But as they all

agree in being moods rather than tenses, the absolute practical necessity of separating the

mood- from the tense—functions of these periphrases makes it all the more desirable to avoid

further subdivision. (Sweet, 1903, p. 111)

Example (6) In such a phrase as you should not make personal remarks the preterit should is substituted

for the present shall in order to soften down the imperativeness of you shall not make. Here

there is no conditional meaning; the should keeps its original meaning, and is not even an

auxiliary.

In the following examples we can also observe the original meaning of shall, but softened

down so that the shall becomes a pure auxiliary: why should you suspect him? Is there

anyone with him? No; who should there be? As I went down the street, who should I meet but

our friend himself! We can still see the influence of the original meaning in the first example

(“what obliges you to suspect me?”), further softened down in the second, till in the last

should meet becomes simply a periphrastic preterit. (Sweet, 1903, p. 114)

These mainly discuss the issue of the interpretation or use of the modal auxiliary verb shall. Example (5)

shows a functional transition: from a tense-based to a mood-based one. This move represents the evolution of

the primary senses from futurity to periphrasis. The first of the examples in Example (6) indicates a similar

change between past and polite (softening) uses because this can be taken as the transition from tense to mood

(modality). Moreover, it is also possible to notice that the original meaning of the modal auxiliary verb

concerns obligation. Sweet suggests a diachronic sequence of the conceptualisation in terms of the modal

auxiliary verb shall: (1) obligation; (2) futurity; and (3) periphrasis (and subsequently to a politeness marker).

Such a historical transition can also be confirmed from Examples (7)-(10).

Example (7) “Should: denoting time; implies doubt; politely marks the event as involuntary or accidental”.

(as cited in White, 1761, p. 231)

Example (8) “Sometimes that form of the auxiliary verbs shall, will, and &c. which is generally

conditional, is elegantly used to express a very slight assertion, with a modest diffidence. ‘I

should think it would be proper to give up the point:’ that is, ‘I am rather inclined to think”’.

(Murray, 1808, pp. 136-137)

Example (9) May is elegantly used in asking a question, to soften the boldness of an inquiry:

“How old may you be?” (Angus, 1812, p. 70)

Example (10) “‘I shall’ and generally to contain a tinge of volition.…there is a general impression that ‘I

shall’ is explicit and self-asserting—hence more modest—than “‘I will’. The distinction is

not grammar but of politeness”. (as sited in Ramsay, 1892, p. 391)

Given the time frame involved (White’s grammar was published in 1761, and Sweet’s in 1903), we can

notice that such several meanings can of course co-exist as layers of meaning, synchronically. What makes the


interpretations of the application of the modal auxiliary verb different depends on contexts and situations. The

author explains this pattern of variation and change with a network model.

An Earlier Network Model for Modal Verb Usage (Coates, 1983)

As the descriptions above suggest, more than one modal sense can co-exist simultaneously in a single

expression which involves a modal auxiliary verb. The model provided by Coates (1983, p. 170) showed the

importance of such multiple meanings by invoking a categorisation of overlapped senses.

Figure 1. Overlap, interference.

Figure 2. Fuzzy set diagram of Will.

The dotted line represents the peripheral boundary of the range of senses of a single modal auxiliary verb.

On the one hand, there are parts where only single senses exist. On the other, there are also parts where a number

of senses overlap. For instance, in Figure 1, the degree of the strength of the impression of each meaning is the

strongest in the core, and the degree gradually weakens as you move from the core to the periphery. The fuzzy

condition is also applied to the area where senses overlap (see Figure 2). Such a semantic-pragmatic involvement

is coherent with the idea of the “layering”, which was proposed by Hopper (1991).

Application of a Network Model

However, there is still room to reconsider some issues. In adopting a revised network model, the nature of

the links between senses is to be considered.

In this model, the author divides pragmatic meanings into two subgroups. One is “textual-pragmatic”, and

the other is “social-interactional”. By “textual-pragmatic”, he means senses which are associated with the larger

linguistic context in which the modal verb appears. By “social-pragmatic”, he means senses whose recognition

depends on knowledge of the interpersonal and communicative context, beyond the domain of mere lexical and

literal sources. On the other hand, the author uses “semantic” here as the meanings which are lodged in the single

modal forms themselves as their fundamental core meanings: (1) semantic network. For example: volition (will),

Root Epistemic

Willingness Prediction

Intention

Predictability

Core Periphery


obligation (shall), liberty (may), power (can), and necessity (must); (2) textual-pragmatic network. For example:

conditional, hypothetical, and unreal; and (3) social-interactional network. For example: polite, modest, gentle,

elegant, and harsh.

Although the examples introduced are limited and on a small scale, it is possible to confirm the mutual

connections between the three groups. This leads us to make the Figure 3 analysis.

Figure 3. Mutual linking.

The image should be changed to show that all the senses involved are more closely gathered to reflect the

reality in which there is no border separating the networks. To reflect these points, Figure 4 is provided as an

example.

The three networks are overlapped in this picture. The four senses in the semantic category are placed inside.

The dotted black lines represent the links which show their internal mutual relations. The four senses of the

social-interactional category which are in the periphery extend their internal mutual connections as the dotted

blue lines show. There are also four senses which are located in-between the semantic and the social-interactional

senses. They are of a textual-pragmatic kind and are connected in their own mutual network. The dotted red lines

indicate the internal connections. Then as the historical evolution of the modals suggests, inter-categorial links

between the semantic and the textual-pragmatic, and the textual-pragmatic and the social-interactional are

established. The thin dotted green lines mark this.

Figure 4. An expanse of a combined network.

category 2 category 3

category 1

polite

modest harsh

gentle

potential conditional

necessity

power liberty

possibility

real hypothetical


When the conditions of the Examples (11)-(12) are applied to this modelling, the following network appears

for the various senses associated with might. Remember, the concepts which are raised here are clearly related to

politeness.

Example (11) Might expresses the same possibility or liberty under a condition, which defeats the effect;

In the present tense, it is always conditional; in the past tense, it is either absolute or

conditional. (Webster, 1784, p. 30)

Example (12) The combination might + infinitive in independent sentences is used to soften a request by

making it more indirect, as in might I ask…?/might I be allowed to ask…? = “may I ask”.

(Sweet, 1903, p. 116)

To recognise and clarify that this is merely a single, instantaneous instance of one part of the network of the

combinations of the senses, Figure 5 may be useful to refer to. The shaded senses and links mark dormant

portions of the potential senses. Basically, the senses involved can be as numerous as an individual can recognise.

Consequently, the links and the network patterns which connect senses to each other can almost be limitless.

Politeness in English, at least with the modal auxiliary verb, may emerge from a variety of options in such

network patterns. At the same time, the polite sense is just one of a number of meanings which can be expressed

with the modals. The relationship between politeness and the modal auxiliary verb is not absolute and exclusive.

This is quite a different point from the situation of the terms of respect in Japanese, where linguistic forms are

more closely connected to particular senses of politeness, such as “respect” and “humility”.

Figure 5. Comparative picture of active—dormant senses and links in a network.

Conclusions

In this talk, the author has considered some data from the LModE grammarians, and proposed a network

model to account for the emergence of a recognised “polite” use. While the modals are just part of the linguistic

means of polite expression in English, it is possible to note that the polite applications themselves are just parts of

soften

conditional indirect

absolute hypothetical

possibility

modest harsh

gentle

liberty power

necessity


a variety of modal interpretations. The polite options involve various network patterns: what is interesting is that

such a use or recognition of the modal auxiliary verb can be the result of a historical developmental transition of

the interpretation of the modals. Politeness in English is flexibly connected to a variety of related concepts or

senses which create distinct network associations. In such circumstance concepts like “softening” and

“indirectness” seem to be widely applicable. The modal auxiliary verb take a role as a representative of the

concepts, not absolutely and exclusively but optionally. In addition, it may be said that the derivative or social

interactional concepts such as “gentle” and “elegant” were also influential as markers of politeness during the

LModE period, since such terms can often be found in the manner and usages books, which the author also used

for his doctoral research, but has not had time to address here.

References

Angus, W. (1812). A new system of English grammar. Glasgow: Brash and Reid. Beal, J. C. (2004). English in modern times 1700-1945. London: Arnold. Coates, J. (1983). The semantics of the modal auxiliaries. London: Croom Helm. Fell, J. (1784). An essay towards an English grammar. Menston: The Scolar Press. Görlach, M. (1999). English in Nineteenth-Century England. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Görlach, M. (2001). Eighteenth-Century English. Heidelburg: C. Winter. Hart, D. (Ed.). (2003). English modality in context. Bern: Peter Lang Heine, B. (1993). Auxiliaries, cognitive forces and grammaticalizatio. New York and Oxford: Oxford University Press. Hopper, P. J. (1991). On some principles of grammaticalization (pp. 17-35). In E. Traugott, & B. Heine (Eds.), Approaches to

Grammaticalization (Vol. 1). Amsterdam: John Benjamins. Horiguchi, S. (Ed.). (2001). Total English (2nd ed.). Tokyo: Gakko Tosho. Latham, R. G. (1841). The English language. London: Samuel Bentley Meilan, M. A. (1803). An introduction to the English language (Vol. 1). London: W. Wilson. Michael, I. (1970). English grammatical categories. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Morgan, M. (1994). Manners, morals and class in England, 1774-1858. New York: St. Martin’s Press. Murray, L. (1808). An English grammar (Vol. 1). York: Thomas Wilson & Son. Ramsay, S. (1892). The English language and English grammar. New York and London: G. P. Putnam’s Sons. Sweet, H. (1903). A new English grammar (Vol. 2). Oxford: The Clarendon Press. Traugott, E. C. (1989). On the rise of epistemic meaning in English: An example of subjectification in semantic change. Language,

65(1). Traugott, E. C., & Heine, B. (Eds.). (1991). Approaches to grammaticalization (Vols. 1-2). Amsterdam/Philadelphia: John

Benjamins. Watts, R ., & Trudgill, P. (2002). Alternative histories of English. London and New York: Routledge. Watts, R. J. (2002). From polite language to educated language. In R. Watt, & P. Trudgill (Eds.), Alternative histories of English (pp.

155-172). London: Routledge. Webster, N. (1784). A grammatical institute of the English language part II. Menston: The Scolar Press. White, J. (1761). The English verb. Menston: The Scolar Press. Ziegeler, D. (2003). On the generic origin of modality in English. In D. Hart (Ed.), English modality in context (pp. 33-69). Bern:

Peter Lang.


Writing as Painting: Creative Scholarly Writing

From Hélène Cixous’ Post-structuralism and

Maurice Merleau-Ponty’s Body Phenomenology

Virpi Yliraudanjoki

Researcher and Writing Coach, Helsinki, Finland

This paper deals with scholarly writing and a testing and experimental review of its related conventions. The author

applies to her review of the subject a theoretical stimulus that returns to the starting point of Hélène Cixous’ (2008)

post-structuralism and Maurice Merleau-Ponty’s (2012) phenomenology of the body. The author becomes open to

meditation on the topic as a bodily soothsayer redeeming permission for creative scholarly writing using the

intuitively associative method and style of writing which she has developed. The author suggests that a theoretical

starting point located in post-structuralism and the phenomenology of the body offers the possibility to equate

creative scholarly writing with painting. The aim of this paper is to start from post-structuralism and the

phenomenology of the body and to conceive a new method of understanding and adapting creative scholarly

writing, while the author allows herself to perceive and write in her intuitively associative style.

Keywords: creative scholarly writing, intuitive, associative, painting, Hélène Cixous, Maurice Merleau-Ponty

Introduction

This paper deals with scholarly writing and an experimental review of its related conventions. The author of

this paper is interested in piecing together a form of scholarly writing that utilizes creativity, and in the

possibilities of its application. The author discusses the topic from the perspective of bodily soothsaying, as a

permission to write which also provides opportunities for freedom in the method and style of scholarly

writing.

The author pays attention in her review especially to ideas presented by the French literature and language

researcher Hélène Cixous (2008) and the French philosopher Maurice Merleau-Ponty (2012), which the author

applies when she considers the condition of knowing and scholarly writing. The author’s assessment,

theoretically localized in post-structuralism and the phenomenology of the body, provides permission to write, to

paint, which enfolds the ideas of these theorists in a way that broadens scholarly writing and primes creativity.

Writing opens up as based on a reading of the text of the bodily soothsayer, as an intuitively associative style of

writing, through which the text is produced.

Virpi Yliraudanjoki, Ph.D. in Education, researcher and writing coach.

DAVID PUBLISHING

D DAVID PUBLISHING

D

CREATIVE SCHOLARLY WRITING FROM HÉLÈNE CIXOUS’ POST-STRUCTURALISM 526

The author describes her pursuit as writing Towards1. To the bodily soothsayer, the intuitively associative

style of writing involves hearing and recording the intuitive associations evoked by a reading of the text. By

intuition the author refers to the seemingly random or even mysterious intuition of the bodily soothsayer (Hakala,

2002, p. 13) in relation to the context under consideration. Association means building different, sometimes

almost absurd seeming associations between contexts (p. 163). This paper opens the style and text of intuitively

associative writing, which unfolds as the bodily soothsayer feels free to perceive and to write of her perception.

The Interdisciplinary Home of the Nonconforming Scholarly Writer

The preface to a work that appeared about ten years ago (Latvala, Peltonen, & Saresma, 2004a, p. 13), states

that the conventions of research writing are changing as well as methods of research. Change in research writing

refers to the gradual erosion of conventions rather than a real revolution. The change is characterized as a

transition from impersonal, superficial reporting towards more personal—even more artistic ways to write.

Changes in research methods and research writing have meant “a proliferation of styles, but by no means the

stepping aside or disappearance of old conventions” (Latvala et al., 2004a, p. 13). In particular, those researchers

and scholarly writers whose interests are located in more cross-disciplinary or interdisciplinary research trends,

have found a home in the proliferation of research methods and research writing styles. Those with the desire and

courage to experiment with new, more personal styles of research and writing have settled with anticipation into

the interdisciplinary home of scholarly writing. The author’s outline of an intuitively associative writing style has

also found its place in the interdisciplinary home of scholarly writing.

It should be noted that the interdisciplinary writing style—as a personal and creative approach to scholarly

writing—can also be positioned as an “enticing gig” in relation to “serious scholarly writing” (Latvala et al.,

2004b, pp. 17-22). On the other hand, drawing a sharp dividing line between scholarly writing and literature for

example can also seem quite unconvincing. In the world of science, the activities of such “dissident researchers”

and “dissident authors” can be characterized as attempts to test the conventions of research work and related

research writing. It has meant for example the unlocking of an ethically sustainable research process—by-paths

and all. The unlocking of the research process, has, in turn, led researchers to consider, besides the localization

and production of information, the researcher, the bodily soothsayer, who knows and writes “with his own voice”

(Eskola, 2008).

For the (inter)disciplinary author, reading creates the basis that makes writing possible (Cixous, 2008a, p. 68).

In the development of the intuitively associative writing style, reading involves the echoing revitalization of the

read text in your own body and writing, and a striving for authentic feeling and belonging in the writing that you

offer to your readers. In this paper, the author outlines her promise to produce scholarly writing by offering to her

physically present bodily soothsayer the brush with which, intuitively associating, the author may render visible

1 The author has also described writing Towards in her earlier texts. In her article Vaikea rakkaus kirjoittaa (Difficult love writes) (Yliraudanjoki, 2009, pp. 216-224), the author describes writing Towards from the standpoint of post-structuralism and the phenomenology of the body, providing an initial outline, without specific detail, of the writing method applied in the present article. In her dissertation: “What Nongraded Upper Secondary School? Feminist School Ethnography in Nongraded Upper Secondary School” (Yliraudanjoki, 2010, p 146), the author unlocks writing Towards while applying an ethnographic methodology. In writing Towards she wishes to emphasize, rather than cognitive unshakeability—truth perceived as objective—the understanding of knowledge as always connected to power, as relative and therefore striving towards truthfulness. This also means that the researcher has the opportunity to enrol in the text, with good reason, “in his own voice” (Eskola, 2008).


the fragile and powerful lines based upon her reading of the text. At the same time, primed by Cixous’ (2008b)

ideas, the author considers writing as the pursuit of a radiant secret. How does one surrender oneself to be carried

away by the radiant, but always unknown secret? What might writing mean, when it is defined as an attempt to

pursue that secret that radiates its own ink?

In the following, the author begins to unlock the (her) permission for the bodily soothsayer to write, which

means using the intuitively associative style (method) of writing from a reading of the text—writing Towards

truthfulness. Art inhabits that truthfulness, towards which one is permitted to paint by writing. The author’s

analysis proceeds from the bodily condition of knowing and from knowledge towards writing, painting words. At

the end of the author’s paper, she frees the ink of the bodily soothsayer and the meanings of the radiant secret:

What do they mean and promise to the intuitively associative writer?

Bodily Soothsaying

For a long time, I hid my corporality, which could not find its ink or the path of its soothsayer. I knew my

strengths, but I also felt the weakness of the other’s account. I left the present condition of knowing to await the

future. I would yet find the brush, with which I would make the fragile and powerful lines visible. I would

become visible in the compulsion that lived in me and drove ahead of all else, even when invisible. I would still

work at my world painting, I would get my delicate and fragile manifesto ready for viewing by masters

(Merleau-Ponty, 2012, pp. 419-420). I would strive drowsily towards the unconscious, and the hateful too, and I

would wake up to life as a new teacher. The ink of my body—ears, skin, eyes (Cixous, 2008a, p. 68).

I would generate the painter’s innocent knowledge, breathing in its fragile and powerful lines, in spite of

doubts—undeniably, with braided eye and hand. I am discovering my real, living body, which simply radiates

cognitive innocence. The viability of my body is the “self”, the inwardness that every breath verifies. I feel the

knowledge that burns my insides, which once perceived sparks in a sensing state of knowing. The perceived

incandescence bursts into a fire that burns my body in its echo. I look and burn in the searing knowledge of world

embracing truthfulness (Merleau-Ponty, 2012, pp. 419-427).

Finally I begin to understand the secrets that live in the skin and the flesh of the original language. All

languages are translations, and writing itself is translation. I translate what I feel towards the language, which I

will subvert in my translation. The encounter of language and emotions releases my own language, which I will

translate as I write. I realize more and more how writing and painting are metaphorically similar to each other. I

too will take a brush in my hand, with which I will make visible the fragile and powerful lines. I find ink and

translate my language, of which the drawn meanings are infinite (Cixous, 2008b, pp. 145-146).

I find that I have fallen into an endless dance of meaning and I do not want to find my way out. I begin to

devour myself from inwardness, which calls me to explore. I learn to listen to the live body, which echoes the

truthfulness of its knowledge. My gaze wanders in images, in which I live. I look at pictures like me, from the

endless meanings of which I will build my future homes. I understand my living body, which echoes in the

truthfulness of its knowledge a fanciful weave of reality. I paint, and the visible world signs itself into my words.

The world of the painter is a visible world—perfect also when partial. I will let my eyes watch and wander. My

mind starts to write of a similar, almost insane world, the echo of which my body repeats. I open my ears, I feel

the visible cipher on my skin and I take the brush in my hand (Merleau-Ponty, 2012, pp. 424-429).


Knowledge

My ear is reminded of trust in the knowing that lives in my body. I surrender, because the ear has the ability

to find what is essential amid all the noise. My skin feels the lived, the present and the future. It tells the story in

the lap of my subconscious, as long as I have the patience to listen (Cixous, 2008a, p. 68). The certainty of my

internal gaze arises in the eye, which sees visions and future paintings. My third eye has grown the ability of my

fleshly eyes to see, but I know that the practice must continue. I should look continually, because the painter

learns to see, seeing, only by looking. My eye sees the world. It sees what is missing from the world, which would

make it a painting. My eye can also see what is missing from the painting that would let it be itself. The colour

palette tells the colour that the painting awaits, which I am to make visible. The secret of visibility still populates

my unborn painting (Merleau-Ponty, 2012, pp. 426-428).

I am going to paint with my body’s ink the intoxication of my freedom, the madness of which compels

within your eyes. I draw into visibility the partial and complete world of the painter. The fragile and powerful

strokes of my brush create what you too can own from a distance. I paint because I have seen. The world has

carved a cipher of the visible into me (Merleau-Ponty, 2012, pp. 428-429). My wonderful painting is as endless as

a book or a poem. The endlessness of painting or writing touches me and I want to join the merciful race towards

the secret. You assure me that I want to reach that secret, because I do not know what it is. However, I feel the

radiant secret that appeals to me in an inexplicable and powerful way. I want to reach the radiant secret, which is

always fleeing. I remember that writing is done in pursuit of a secret. Writing, like painting, is the pursuit of a

secret (Cixous, 2008b, p. 146).

There is rarely a clear moment where my flaw finds meaningfulness and begins to carry me. Now it opens up,

old and fresh. All is clear—I am trying to catch a freely fluttering hem. I know what scholarly writing means,

although my choking words remain. My throat constricts when I look at the painting on the wall. Every delicate

brush stroke in the painting dazzles my unseeing eyes. I try to remember the words of my blind friend, when he

tells me that he does not know what marsh tea looks like. How to sing of marsh tea and marshes, which live in the

dark. He teaches me to take the brush in my hand, with which I will draw the fragile and powerful lines. These are

the wise words of my blind friend:

Dip your brush in the ink of your bold body—start to translate your language. Open your ears, let the skin tell the story and the inner eye see the certain images and future paintings. Keep practicing. Let your voice be heard and soon you will know that the knowledge that lives in the dark is beautiful and ugly. You were born to be a painter.

Seize the Brush—Write

Now I trust the strokes that well up from my body and on which my knowledge is constantly drawn. How

fitting it is that scholarly thinking returns to its predecessor. That “there is” something—in our lives, for our

bodies. For the body, perhaps already for mine, that is quietly involved in everything. I set out to paint the marsh

tea, although I knew no more about my colours. My body was present when I looked without eyes. My body was

quietly involved in every brush stroke, in the translation of my language. My brushstrokes tell of the right to look

and paint without judgement. I learned that my blind birth as a painter made me slimy, slipping from the

worthless dictates of knowledge and action (Merleau-Ponty, 2012, pp. 418-419).

I learned to see with my friend as a guide. The person with unseeing eyes, encouraged me to take the brush in


my hand and make the fragile and powerful lines visible. My language began to be translated with the ink of my

bold body. I opened myself to future paintings. In the darkness, I found the living knowledge, which is beautiful

and ugly. Every brushstroke of the painting that I wrote would remain to echo its emerging meanings. Towards,

truthfulness (Yliraudanjoki, 2009, p 217), in which the lines remaining between the translated languages would

write themselves as new paintings. The paintings would produce fresh lines indefinitely. The lines would radiate

the secret (Cixous, 2008b, p. 146) that the never-ending quest continually steals away. I am as unending as the

text I have painted, the living meanings of which echo within me.

I own my flaw and I begin to know between my lines. I find the ignorant tears of the masters, with which my

colours mix. I dip my brush and sink into the emerging differences that remain to touch me. I remain to appear in

features, in which the fragile and powerful lines live as endless paintings. I dare to dive and I get under the surface.

Music weaves its meanings into me, in which I begin to thrive (Cixous, 2008b, p. 147). I find the rhythm of my

body’s birth and dive over and over again. I dare, and my visions become breath-taking. My lines are drawn on

life and death, the beginning and the end, on which, painting, I write. My painting, found in the darkness, radiates

the beautiful and the ugly. I read my painting over and over and I begin to translate again. The beautiful and the

ugly, in which you too can dive.

Your Ink

Diving taught me about life and living without guilt. Slowly I learned to hear, and I found my resurgent self.

I painted my beautiful and ugly strokes, knowing better than the masters. I found my life force, and I opened the

road of my words. I heard whispering in my ear, how I should only venture—with my ink. I should dive into the

ink of the subconscious, in which new teachers feel entirely at home. My new teacher told me that I was ready to

start because I knew. I was born in the cradle of my questions, in which I would translate the infinite answers. I

would write with my ink, of which the style is the endlessness of meanings. My knowledge is generated in my

subconscious, which tirelessly offers me its wonderful gifts (Cixous, 2008a, pp. 64-71).

My new teacher tells me about dreams, in which the perfect cipher of my skin is written. My eye looks at the

painter’s almost crazy but perfect world, the playful echo of which repeats effortlessly in my body. Mutually

incompatibles are drawn into the game, where the painter’s gaze lives in secret and complete intersections. I dive

into the shadows, reflections and colours, where I learn to distinguish the things that fall on me. I become more

sensitive to my body’s fevers and unvoiced tunes, which the ghosts by my side have upheld. I ask and I am

answered, since all-knowing vision arises in me (Merleau-Ponty, 2012, pp. 428-431).

In the ink of my body lies everything I need to produce my paintings. My lines have turned to the rhythm of

my breath. I begin to recognize those passing by my side, and I find from my hiding place a painting made long

ago. It is painted with ink that makes my red blood turn. I breathe white ink, but again and again I draw the fragile

and powerful lines to make them visible. The story does not end, because the painting restarts with every brush

stroke, in which I happen. I am on a journey, the breath of which turns the fevered and unvoiced tunes to new

births. The endless births end with new beginnings—with anxiety and uncertainty, in the continuity of which I

begin to swing. “Will you come back already?” my swing asks. “Does your birth begin to happen over and over

again?” it continues. I smile and take up the brush through which my errors continue to revolve (Cixous, 2008a,

pp. 75-76).


Radiant Secret

My new teacher writes her subconscious with ugly and beautiful ink that wraps uncontrolled around every

word. The obnoxious ink grows into the ears, skin, and eyes even of the masters (Cixous, 2008a, p. 68). The ink

of my body turns into my pictures and my words (p. 76). My knowledge is hidden in the depths of ink. Writing

from the depths means freedom and the imprisonment of freedom—painting the image while capturing and

creating meanings. Writing takes place toward the elusive, radiant secret (Cixous, 2008b, pp. 145-147), in which

the interpreted meanings remain to continually rotate. I write that which touches me. I paint my pictures and for a

moment I am on the verge of my radiant secret.

I take the brush in my hand and I begin to translate the painter’s enchantment in which I live. I ignorantly

present all the necessary questions to the seeing that arises in me. What in me thinks and sees? I paint the

expressions, gestures, and contours that the painter’s enchantment donates. I notice how seeing creates me over

and over again (Merleau-Ponty, 2012, pp. 431-432) in the middle of my endless journey. I write and paint toward

the radiant secret, which is ever escaping. Writing and painting take place in pursuit of the fleeing secret, where

meanings continue to revolve (Cixous, 2008b, p. 146). Writing, as painting, is the quest for my secret.

The Endless Painting—Conclusions

I will continue the echoing revitalization of the read text in my body and in writing. I take up the brush again

and again, which I dip in the ink of my body. Intuitively and associatively, I draw my fragile and powerful lines.

My bodily soothsaying allows me to perceive the secrets that remain anonymous. I have redeemed my permission

to write, to paint, while the masters know better. I write towards the truthfulness, to which art carries me. I remain

to paint the words that my bodily soothsayer carries in her enduring ink.

I write and paint while allowing myself to know. I dive into the ugly and the beautiful, the slime in which I

am born. I write with the ink of my bold body remaining to thirst for a different kind of criticism that would find

its place in the interdisciplinary home of scholarly writing. My interdisciplinary home of scholarly writing lies on

the border of feeling and intellect, art and life (Behar, 1996, pp. 174-175), where another kind of criticism can

allow itself calmly to know and to write of its knowing. My intuitively associative writing style expects ugly and

beautiful meanings, where you too can bravely dive. You will notice how your radiant secret will open old and

fresh—as something that you always knew.

References

Behar, R. (1996). The vulnerable observer: Anthropology that breaks your heart. Boston: Beacon Press. Cixous, H. (2008a). My text is written in white and black, in “milk and night”: Interview with Christiane Makward (B. Cameron &

A. Liddle, Trans.). In S. Sellers (Ed.), White ink: Interviews on sex, text and politics (pp. 58-78). New York: Columbia University Press.

Cixous, H. (2008b). You race towards that secret, which escapes: Interview with Martin McQuillan. In S. Sellers (Ed.), White ink: Interviews on sex, text and politics (pp. 145-147). New York: Columbia University Press.

Eskola, A. (2008). The researcher’s voice—Or your own voice? (Tutkijan ääni—Vai oma ääni?). In K. Lempiäinen, O. Löytty, & M. Kinnunen (Eds.), The researcher’s book (Tutkijan kirja) (pp. 211-218). Tampere: Vastapaino.

Hakala, J. T. (2002). The creative process in science (Luova prosessi tieteessä). Helsinki: Gaudeamus. Latvala, J., Peltonen, E., & Saresma, T. (2004a). Foreword (Esipuhe). In J. Latvala, E. Peltonen, & T. Saresma (Eds.), The

researcher as narrator: Feelings, research process and writing (Tutkija kertojana. Tunteet, tutkimusprosessi ja kirjoittaminen) (pp. 13-16). Nykykulttuurin Tutkimuskeskuksen Julkaisuja, 79.


Latvala, J., Peltonen, E., & Saresma, T. (2004b). Researchers tell, conventions fracture? (Tutkijat kertovat, konventiot murtuvat?). In J. Latvala, E. Peltonen, & T. Saresma (Eds.), The researcher as narrator: Feelings, research process and writing (Tutkija kertojana. Tunteet, tutkimusprosessi ja kirjoittaminen) (pp. 17-55). Nykykulttuurin Tutkimuskeskuksen Julkaisuja, 79.

Merleau-Ponty, M. (2012). The eye and the spirit (Silmä ja henki). In M. Luoto & T. Roinila (Eds. & Trans.), Philosophical writings (Filosofisia kirjoituksia) (pp. 415-477). Helsinki: Nemo.

Yliraudanjoki, V. (2009). Difficult love writes (Vaikea rakkaus kirjoittaa). In S. I. Sotasaari (Ed.), Think—if you dare: Festschrift on the 60th birthday of philosopher Toivo Salonen (Ajattele—jos uskallat: Filosofi Toivo Salosen 60-vuotisjuhlakirja) (pp. 216-224). Rovaniemi: Lapland University Press.

Yliraudanjoki, V. (2010). What nongraded upper secondary school? Feminist school ethnography in nongraded upper secondary school (Mikä luokaton lukio? Feministinen kouluetnografia luokattomuuden järjestyksissä). Rovaniemi: Lapland University Press.

2013.8 journal of literature and art studies

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