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In cigar stores,
art galleries & museum shops across Canada, Eskimo stone art is available,
popularly priced, popularly styled. Carvings of mermaids, those sexually
frustrating figures from our own mythology, are especially popular. Here
they are identified with the Eskimo goddess Sedna, though neither carvers
nor buyers can be much concerned with accuracy, for these carvings always
show a girl with two eyes, fingers & braided hair, whereas Sedna was
one-eyed, fingerless & unkempt. Of the myths that
were once half-told, half-sung in the igloos, none was more important
than that of Sedna. Every Eskimo knew it & had his own version, all
equally true, for this myth was too complex for any single telling. Sedna or Nuliajuk
("Young girl") rejected all suitors until a stranger induced
her to elope with him. He was, in fact, a cruel dog disguised as a man,
but she discovered this only after reaching her new home on a distant
island. Escape was impossible
until one day when her family came to visit her. Her husband always refused
to let her leave the tent, except to go to the toilet, and even then tied
a long cord to her. But this time when she went outside and he called,
asking why she delayed so long, she had the ball of cord reply that she
would soon return. In the meantime,
she ran to the beach & joined her parents in their boat. But no sooner
had they set out to sea, than her husband discovered the ruse and, transforming
himself into a bird, swooped low over the fleeing family, turning the
sea to storm, and threatening them with drowning. To save themselves,
they cast Sedna overboard. At first she clung
to the gunwale. But her father cut off the first joints of her fingers;
when she persisted, he cut off the second & third joints. They sank
into the sea to become the seal, walrus & whale that the Eskimo hunt
today. In desperation, Sedna
hooked her elbows over the side, but her father struck her with his paddle,
gouging out an eye, and she sank into the sea, fingerless & one-eyed.
From the bottom of
the sea, she ruled all creatures. Their floating bodies nearly filled
her house. Periodically she sent animals forth to be taken by hunters,
but only by hunters who showed respect for slain animals. Other hunters returned
empty-handed. That is, Sedna withheld life from them, for they could not
survive without the food, clothing & fuel that came from her subjects.
She was the most
feared of all spirits, the one who, more than any other, controlled the
destinies of men. In the various versions
of this myth, Sedna was sometimes an unwanted daughter cast into the sea
by her father, or a girl who has rejected all eligible men, or an orphan
nobody wanted; in one version she was already a mother, abandoned by her
own children. In each, she was someone the family abandoned for its own
safety. Abandonment of people
was not purely mythical. The Eskimo did, in fact, abandon old people.
Killing new-born girls was common. And the position of orphans was precarious:
one's own family always took precedence. These were normal experiences
in Eskimo life - cruel necessities forced on them by scarcity. The Sedna myth represented
this dilemma as the Eskimo saw it. They never asked that the universe
be this way. But - ayornamut ("it cannot be otherwise"}
- they accepted life on its own terms. They did more than
accept: they took upon themselves the responsibility for the fact
that life was the way it was. They gave Sedna the power of life &
death over man. Those who were forced to abandon her now placed themselves
in her power, dependent upon her good will, her respect for life. The hunter Aua, asked
by the ethnologist Rasmussen to explain why life was as it was, took him
outside and, pointing to hunters returning empty-handed after long hours
on the ice, himself asked, "Why?" He then took him into a cold
igloo where hungry children shivered and into another igloo where a woman,
who had always worked hard and helped others, now lay miserably ill. Each
time he asked, "Why?" but received no reply. "You see,"
said Aua, "you are equally unable to give any reason when we ask
why life is as it is. And so it must be. All our customs come from life
and turn toward life; we explain nothing, we believe nothing, but in what
I have just shown you lies our answer to all you ask." The last part of
the Sedna myth told of a maze to be entered & come out of alive, bringing
the innocent to safety. In this maze there lived the dog whose name was
Death. It fell to the angakok, or shaman, to find the door that
opened the past, unravel the tangled traces of time, rescue the innocent
& beware the dog. The occasion was a seance where the angakok sought
to cure the sick & save the dying. If he failed & his patient
died, its soul went beneath the sea to Sedna's home. The angakok
followed, traveling on the sound of his drum. Sedna's husband, a snarling
dog, guarded the entrance to her home, but the angakok paralyzed
him with a chant & entered her strange house, confronting her directly.
He tried to reason with her, arguing that she had taken a life without
cause. But she ignored him. He begged for pity, but she laughed contemptuously.
In anger, he twisted her arm & struck her with a walrus penis bone.
But she was not afraid. Then he appealed to her vanity, combing out her
tangled hair. But she was still unrelenting. Finally, ignoring her altogether,
he stepped back and, with drum held high, sang of life. Sedna was sometimes
so touched by his song, so moved by his singing, she released the soul
of the dead person, and the angakok returned with it to the land
of the living. In a life where neither
reason nor strength prevailed, where cunning counted for little &
pity least of all, the Eskimo sang of life, for only that availed, and
even that, not always. A people may be fairly
judged by their uses of the past. The myth of the hero who goes to the
land of the dead to unravel the threads of time & save the innocent
has been shared by many people & woven into their most magical dreams.
The ancient Greeks knew the hero as Orpheus. Literate man knew the goddess
of the nether world as the Ice Queen in a Hans Christian Andersen fairy
tale for children. Modern man knows the goddess as mermaid, debased into
a paperweight. |
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Pages
106-109
Oh, What a Blow That Phantom Gave Me! by Edmund Carpenter Holt, Rinehart and Winston - New York, Chicago, San Francisco Copyright 1972, 1973 by Edmund Carpenter |
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Translated
to hypermedia and edited by Michael Wesch
2002
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