Copyright reserved. Subject to the exceptions provided for by law, no part of this publication may be reproduced and/or published in print, by photocopying, on microfilm or in any other way without the written consent of the...
moreCopyright reserved. Subject to the exceptions provided for by law, no part of this publication may be reproduced and/or published in print, by photocopying, on microfilm or in any other way without the written consent of the copyright-holder(s); the same applies to whole or partial adaptations. The publisher retains the sole right to collect from third parties fees in respect of copying and/or take legal or other action for this purpose. iniciados y organizados por Nancy Troike, se han convertido en un sitio de intercambios e inspiraciones importantes. 4 MAARTEN JANSEN Alvarado gives tutu yondaa yaa as a Mixtec translation for the Spanish word cancionero, which means 'book of songs', 'collection of songs and/or poems', but not 'singer'. Knowing this, the Mixtec term itself is easily understood: 'paper/book (tutu) which contains (yo-ndaa) songs (yaa)'. The rules that govern the sequence of words in Mixtec make the translation 'he who holds the song book/paper' simply impossible. At this moment the study of ancient Zapotec and Mixtec culture seems to be in a transitional period. Many new theories are published, but not yet evaluated. Some authors carefully mention their primary and secondary sources. Others deal with them in a rather loose way or simply ignore relevant publications. An example is the interpretation of the scene in which the Mixtec princess 6 Monkey encounters two men who address her with speech scrolls topped by knifes (Codex Seiden, 7-III). In a pioneering study in the 1930's Herbert Spinden read the latter convention as 'cutting, i.e. offensive words' or 'sharp language'. Gabina Aurora Perez Jimenez, a native speaker of Mixtec, has pointed out that the knifes probably refer to an idiomatic expression: yuchi yuchi 'knife, knife', meaning 'you shall be killed by a knife'. The princess seems to have understood these words according to normal Mixtec usage, namely as a curse or threat but, as the story unfolds, we find that they probably were intended as a warning and that 6 Monkey's misinterpretation functions as a tragic irony in the dramatic structure of the narrative (Jansen & Perez Jimenez 1986). Curiously, no attention is paid to such insights and Spinden's suggestion continues to be repeated in recent literature (e.g. Marcus 1992; Boone 1994). These are relatively minor questions but they tend to undermine otherwise interesting arguments. The issue becomes more serious when the interpretation of entire scenes or stories is profoundly affected. The calculation of time depth in the codices is such a case. Since 1981 a new chronological framework, elaborated by Emily Rabin and presented at the annual congress of the American Society for Ethnohistory, has been circulating among those who study Mixtec codices. However, several modern publications still reproduce the earlier, now outdated chronology of Alfonso Caso. With this situation in mind, we think there is an increasing need to critically review the existing theories, especially when conclusions about ancient concepts are derived from terms in a language that the author does not completely understand. As an example let us look at the Mixtec term for 'calendar', given by the vocabulary of fray Francisco de Alvarado (1593): nee nuhu duyu dusa. In his introduction to the popular edition of a redrawn version of Codex Borgia Bruce Byland transcribed this term as nee nuhu duyu dusa and translated it as 'all the spirits who support the disc of the earth', suggesting that it might express the interconnection between time, 8 MAARTEN JANSEN bark paper) foundation is categorically and conceptually distinct from the writing applied to the surface of the skin. This would make the codices twice-santified: once in the sense of the earthly nature of the book itself (and the presumed association of a book with a specific location), and once in the sense of the "offering" placed on its surface." (King 1994:107-108) The translation 'nu 'u tails' clearly is a misinterpretation of tutu nuu dzuma, given by Alvarado as 'papel de la tierra'. Indeed dzuma is 'tail', and by extension 'scorpion' (te-dzuma, 'tail-animal'), but nuu dzuma js one of the Mixtec names for 'Mexicans', i.e. speakers of Nahuatl. So, tutu nuu dzuma refers to 'Mexican paper', as an alternative for tutu nudzavui, 'Mixtec paper'. Needless to say that there is a significant difference between nuhu ('earth', 'fire', 'deity') and nuu ('people', 'town'). As we saw, there is reason to believe that codices were treated with great respect and had divine status (nuhu), but the concept of books as 'part of the earth' and of writing as an 'offering' is sheer speculation and not justified, not even indicated, by the sources. Noting that many Mixtec words have syllables in common King feels that there must be some etymological connection and underlying semantic relationship. So, he tries to reconstruct the root meanings of those syllables by extracting a common denominator from all the words in which they occur: "Books are also called tutu ("page", "design", "to whistle"), a term that is apparently related to the words toto ("to sing", "to put in order", "kinship"), cutu ("wind instrument", "copal incense"), and catu ("whistle", "pipe"), emphasizing the musical or performative aspects of the codices." (King 1994:105). The postulated 'apparent relationship' of these terms, however, is purely speculative and certainly not more relevant in Mixtec than, say, the relationship between the words 'goblin', 'gospel', and 'gossip' in English. But, isolating the syllables in this way, King discovers a profound phonetic symbolism: "This musical sense may be related to the syllable-tu-in these words. In the roadest sense,-tu-and-t¥u-tend to carry some sense of linearity, both as the shape (or air pathway) of whistles, flutes and trumpets and as the conceptual shape of music itself." (ibid.