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07.07.10, DuBois, Lyric Meaning and Audience

07.07.10, DuBois, Lyric Meaning and Audience


What John Miles Foley's Immanent Art (1991) does for the interpretation of the oral and oral-derived epic, Thomas A. DuBois's new book does for the much-less-studied traditional lyric: it traces the nuance and complexity involved in the hermeneutics employed by diverse traditions (northern European in this case) and in different time periods (medieval to modern). Like Foley's groundbreaking book, this one also offers an interpretive strategy whose applicability potentially reaches beyond the specific cultures, texts, or indeed the literary mode discussed. And while the concept of traditional referentiality underpins his thinking, DuBois develops a theoretical model that can be perceived as its further elaboration, a delineation of the paths, or rather axes, along which the metonymic process of bringing the whole immanent tradition to bear on the interpretation of a particular piece takes place.

In the introductory chapter, "Lyrics and the Issue of Meaning," DuBois identifies three interpretative axes, each pointing towards two termini between which the meaning is negotiated, whether on the scale of whole lyric traditions or specific songs. So, the "generic axis" runs between the content and context familiarity, the "associative axis" between personalization and attribution, and the "situational axis" between narrativization and proverbialization. The three axes intersect, indicating that meaning-making can take place along all of them, even if in certain traditions one or two may predominate. For example, while the generic axis plays an equally important role in both the Sámi and Finnish lyric traditions (i.e. the recognition of genre triggers a similar set of expectations), the Sámi Moarsi fávrrot (Song for a Bride) in addition strongly invites interpretation along the associative axis, while the Finnish Jos minun tuttuni tulisi (If the One I Know Would Come) does so more along the situational axis. Even though the two songs originate in traditions that developed in close geographical proximity and under similar social conditions (resulting in a prolonged male absence), and even though they express a similar sentiment (longing for an absent beloved), DuBois reveals two profoundly different interpretive strategies that they elicit. In the Sámi tradition, a song is a form of recall of someone or something with whom/which one had a personal relationship, while the Finnish tradition tends to emphasize a characteristic situation, "the typical--the proverbialized-- experience of women in general who find themselves bereft of loved-ones" (17). Different traditions are also compared according to the intensity of their reliance on the same interpretative axis, and their orientation on it. So, for example, both Finnish and Irish traditions strongly rely on the situational axis. However, as noted earlier, the former tends towards its proverbialized end, while the later tends towards its narrativized end (i.e. the lyric in the Irish tradition is tied to a specific event, rather than a typical situation).

In this way the introduction prefigures the whole book, with the subsequent chapters illustrating a variety of ways in which the axis model can be applied. Such a structure enables the writer to cover a remarkable range of lyric genres, traditions, and periods, while still maintaining his focus. It also enables him to address, with deceptive simplicity and effortlessness, some of the most important issues in the studies of traditional literature (and art in general): the relationship between orality and literacy, music and text, traditional genres, the collective and individual aspects of traditional creativity.

Chapter Two, "Pausing in a Narrative's March: The Interpretation of Lyrics within Epics," examines embedded laments within three medieval epic literatures: Old Norse, Anglo-Saxon and Irish. While in all three traditions interpretations along the generic and associative axes remain similar, they vary markedly when measured against the situational axis. The Old Norse and Irish examples (Guðrúnarqviða[1] from the poetic Edda, Sonatorrek from Egils saga, and Deirdre's lament for Naoise and his brothers from the 12th, 14th, 16th, 18th, and 19th -century manuscripts) show a strong dependence on the specific narrative context in which they occur. In contrast, the Anglo-Saxon lament (from Beowulf) is loosely connected to the surrounding narrative--only by analogy, or "proverbialized comparison" (52). Rather than focusing on particular people and events, the Anglo-Saxon lament aims to inspire a contemplative musing on the transience of life. The series of manuscript snapshots of the Irish example illustrate in addition how the strength of the relationship between the lyric and the surrounding narrative persists (i.e. the situational axis remains dominant) despite the changes that both undergo over time, and regardless of whether or not they are performed in conjunction: the audience is expected to make the appropriate mental link automatically.

What unites the lyrics discussed in Chapter Three, "In Ritual and Wit," is that they are all invocational. This enables DuBois to consider the more readily recognizable lyric genres such as the Sámi joik or the funerary and wedding laments of northern Europe alongside the Scottish bagpipe performances (the piobaireachd), and the more liminal cases of lyric--shepherd's calls and charms, the pragmatic genres that seek to affect the corporeal world in a very direct and concrete manner. Although the first lot lends itself to a more expressive use and can embody the descriptive and contemplative qualities that the more functional and context-dependent genres cannot, DuBois demonstrates how their common invocational mode still powerfully "underscores the communicative nature of lyric in general" (97), in contrast, for example, to the more commemorative nature of epic. It also makes transparent the human desire not only to experience but shape the natural world. A special strength of this chapter in particular, but also the book in general, is that DuBois provides musical scores whenever possible, and examines the role of melody in the traditional hermeneutic process alongside that of the lyric song/text.

Chapter Four, "Conversing with God: Medieval Religious Lyric and Its Interpretation," explores the ways in which the imported tradition of Christian hymnody interacted with traditional secular lyric of the North and harnessed its interpretative techniques. For example, while the hymn Noli Pater (attributed to the Irish Saint Columba) reflects the essential sentiments of Benedicite and Te Deum, it also exhibits "the commanding tone and confidence of the traditional charm" (111), with the speaker trying to procure protection against thunder and fire from a supernatural source. Despite the famous humility and anonymity of Christian authors, in Welsh tradition the figure of the bard looms as large as ever, and the so-called "odes to God" closely mirror praise poetry addressed to kings and lords. As in the Anglo-Saxon tradition, in Welsh odes Christ's deeds are also seen in terms of "a warrior's heroism or a chieftain's generosity" (123). In addition, with great sensitivity and care, DuBois shows how the changes of emphasis in the Christian doctrine are mirrored by different aspects of traditional lyric hermeneutics being emphasized and utilized in turn. The rise of mendicant orders, for example, and their attempt at "monasticization of laity" (130), favoured a more emotive lyric, such that called for identification with the suffering of Christ and Mary on a human level. The great influence of mendicant teaching has led to the gradual replacement of the narrativized and attributional interpretative system (exemplified in the hymns to the Norwegian St. Sunniva and St. Óláfr,[2] as well as the Anglo-Saxon Dream of the Rood) with the "more intensely emotive and proveribialized interpretative system" (141), as exemplified by the 13th-century English lyric Stand well, Mother, beneath the Cross.

Chapter Five, "Confronting Convention: Reading Reception in Shakespeare's Use of Lyric Song," is my favourite chapter in what, the reader has gathered by now, I consider a generally impressive work. Not only does DuBois provide a good excuse for himself and his reader to briefly relive and regard in novel light the most comical and the most poignant moments in a variety of Shakespeare's plays, but he also offers one of the most interesting explorations of the interplay between the oral and textual poetics. He demonstrates how this figure that for many epitomizes originality and genius relied on traditional hermeneutics with gusto, whether he did so in affirmation of traditional meanings, or in their parody. DuBois shows how Shakespeare exploits traditional referentiality of the lyrics he includes as an economical yet powerful dramatic device. For example, in stark contrast to the heroine's momentary optimism, the reference to willow in Desdemona's song will have, to a knowing audience, foreshadowed her untimely demise and its connection to a tragic love. Shakespeare also exploits traditional referentiality as a particularly effective means of characterization. By rule, the characters who declare a lack of interest in (or sneer at) traditional lyric and music will either change their positions during the course of play (comedy), or will, like the Bard's tragic military men (e.g. Hotspur) perish and be bested by the more appreciative, and so ultimately more complete, personages (e.g. Prince Hal). What could have perhaps been more emphasized in DuBois's argument is that certain ways in which Shakespeare relies on traditional referentiality signal a literate mentality at a fundamental level. For instance, DuBois notes how, immediately after Desdemona's murder, her distraught maid recalls her mistress's earlier song and repeats the willow reference. Ultimately, in this way Shakespeare makes sure that all audience members got the point, including those not so versed in the tradition. In a more traditional culture, he would not need to anchor his meaning in this way. If I were nitpicking I would also say that, apart from the brief reference to the generic axis of interpretation at the beginning of the chapter, DuBois does not make great use of his own model here, but I am not nitpicking, and besides, for a number of good reasons (those stated, and those omitted due to space limitations) this is my favourite chapter.

Chapter Six, "Attribution and the Imagined Performer," concentrates on the attributional end of the associative axis of interpretation. Spanning several centuries and cultures, this chapter is a colourful depiction of lives and creative practices of a number of traditional poets. DuBois explores the relationship between the singers' active participation in fashioning a unique performing persona for themselves (much in the vein of today's pop-stars), and the strong role that attribution (a real or purported connection between a particular song and a particular singer) plays in the audience's appreciation of the traditional lyric. As someone who deals with traditional epics rather than lyrics, and with singers who, while often very individualistic in their style, generally seek to efface themselves from their songs, I was left wishing for more musings on reasons behind the self-promotional strategies of DuBois's singers. Is it that the lyric genre allows for (even invites) a more ostentacious appearance of the authorial persona, since, unlike the epic, it addresses the scale of an individual, rather than that of a whole community? Or is there in addition something in the socio-political circumstances of these particular cultures (beyond the economic reasons of itinerant performers which DuBois does discuss) that favoured such a stance in singers? Also, having throughout the book persuasively argued for the proverbialized nature of the Finnish lyric, it would have been interesting to hear how DuBois squares it with Kreeta Haapasalo's audience interpreting her lyrics "unquestioningly as expressions of personal experience" (207).

Chapter Seven, "Personal Meanings in the Performance of One Man's Repertoire," complements the previous one in that it considers the opposite end of the same (associative) interpretational axis. This chapter is a result of DuBois's 1998 fieldwork in Ireland, which involved his granduncle and a traditional singer, Michael Lyne, his wife Lizzy, and other audience members within a small, closely-knit community. A study of Lyne's repertoire as well as the interviews conducted with him and his audience revealed this singer's highly personal and personalizing relationship with tradition. Mick Lyne's personal trauma of being forced to leave his native county Kerry and resettle in Meath has found relief against the larger canvas of Irish traditional songs about international migration. In his versions of these songs Lyne avoids the specifics that would discount Kerry as the songs' primary locus, and his actual (larger) repertoire is constantly traded for the more limited performed repertoire, with the songs that do not involve Kerry and/or Irish past struggles being actively suppressed. Interestingly enough, Lyne's audience (including his wife) resisted sharing the singer's own interpretation which "focused solely on Kerry" (229). This chapter abounds in this sort of rare insights that only well-conducted fieldwork can produce.

In the Epilogue DuBois expresses hope that his book will encourage other explorations of interpretive strategies in specific song traditions, as well as other traditional art forms. I think it likely that it will do even more, and that DuBois's axis model will play an important role in any such future ventures. At the same time, I suspect this will come with some inevitable adjustments to the model--whether as a result of a direct challenge, or indirectly, in usage, the more the author himself and other scholars test it against a variety of traditions. One potentially vulnerable component of the model is the number of axes. If I may be permitted a leap of scholarly traditional referentiality, as soon as someone gives such a definite number of categories (even when it is the nice, traditional number three), we can be pretty certain someone is soon going to dispute it--add some parameters, take away others. I also wonder if the relationship between the axes is principally more hierarchical than DuBois would wish. I feel that the generic axis might carry more weight in general, i.e., it is of a different order, less variable than the other two. Having said this, let me also note that in scholarship one can only hope to be able to offer such a useful basis for what always remains a collective effort. DuBois's book is a stimulating work of high scholarly standard and impressive yet understated erudition. It is warmly recommended to students and advanced scholars alike, to those inclined towards theorizing, and to those who enjoy a sensitive close reading of particular texts. DuBois is comfortable in both camps.

NOTES [1] Guðrúnarqviða and Guðrúnarhvöt are in several places in this chapter mistakenly spelled as Guðrúnaqviða and Guðrúnahvöt (with the "r" indicating the genitive case missing). Also, the lay fragment from the Codex Regius to which DuBois refers on page 43 is entitled Brot af Sigurðarkviðu, rather than Brot af Sigurðurkviðo.

[2] The diacritic mark over 'O' in Óláfr is omitted in this chapter. Characters without the appropriate (and with some inappropriate!) diacritic marks also appear in the surnames of the Croatian and Bosnian scholars cited in the bibliography (248, 253), but these are likely to be printing mistakes.