Click here for the introduction to the Round and Square series about Marcel Granet, "La Pensée Cyclique"
One year ago on Round and Square (3 April 2011)—Theory Corner 1c: Bricolage and Change
One year ago on Round and Square (3 April 2011)—Theory Corner 1c: Bricolage and Change
[a] Total RF |
Total Social Phenomena
Among the authors contained in Marcel Granet’s volumes of
L’année sociologique was Marcel Mauss (1872-1950), Granet’s close friend and
colleague. Mauss was also Emile
Durkheim’s nephew, and the three make a formidable trio that reflects the breadth
and depth of the Année sociologique school
and the “kinship ties” uniting them. Durkheim began as a philosopher who, growing frustrated with the
individualistic interpretations among his contemporaries, embraced the
fledgling field of sociology. The two Marcels (Mauss and Granet) pushed those positions into academic disciplines that were just beginning to develop in the late-nineteenth and early-twentieth centuries.
[b] Social RF |
Marcel
Mauss has often been considered one of the greatest of early anthropologists,
and, even though he himself never did fieldwork, his interpretations of the
ethnographic accounts of others were masterful. They sustained his own arguments in a series of
short accounts that could almost be called “sketches” for further
inquiry. Indeed, Mauss’s essays on the
concept of the person, gift exchange, sacrifice, and magic have given scholars nearly a century of interpretive potential, and his stature has only grown
over the decades. Sociologists, anthropologists, psychologists, and
historians have all written works that were inspired by his influence.
Surely one of the great books of the twentieth century is Mauss’s Essai sur le don (The Gift). It alone has generated almost unimaginable amounts of scholarship, considering its brevity and the fact that it was published first as a study in L’année sociologique. In it, Mauss sparingly but adeptly demonstrates the manner in which prestations, or gifts, are cycled through society, and the processes of thought that are linked to each. After a long quotation from the Edda, the linguistically-gifted Mauss begins with three simple sentences that frame the theoretical and substantive focus of the book:
Surely one of the great books of the twentieth century is Mauss’s Essai sur le don (The Gift). It alone has generated almost unimaginable amounts of scholarship, considering its brevity and the fact that it was published first as a study in L’année sociologique. In it, Mauss sparingly but adeptly demonstrates the manner in which prestations, or gifts, are cycled through society, and the processes of thought that are linked to each. After a long quotation from the Edda, the linguistically-gifted Mauss begins with three simple sentences that frame the theoretical and substantive focus of the book:
The foregoing lines from the Edda outline our subject-matter.
In Scandinavian
and many other civilizations contracts are fulfilled and
exchanges of goods are
made by means of gifts.
In theory such gifts are voluntary but in fact they are
given and repaid
under obligation.[1]
[c] Total-italy RF |
As many authors have pointed out, Mauss saw “total social
phenomena” where others saw only confused or random actions. Building upon
the foundations of Durkheim’s sociology, Mauss explicated the social pressure
behind gift exchange, and the manner in which gifts formed society rather than
merely reflecting it. Total social
phenomena are “wholes…systems in their entirety.” They should not, argued Mauss, be studied statically. They are concrete,
detailed, and particular—not unlike the kinds of materials with which
historians and psychologists are interested.
The study of the concrete, which is the study of the
whole, is made more
readily, is more interesting and furnishes more explanations in the sphere
of sociology than the study of the abstract. For we observe complete and
complex beings. We too describe them in their organisms and psychai as
well as in their behavior as groups, with the attendant psychoses: sentiments,
ideas and desires of the crowd, of organized societies and their sub-groups.
We see bodies and their reactions, and their ideas and sentiments as
interpretations or as motive forces. The aim and principle of sociology is to
observe and understand the whole group in its total behavior.[2]
readily, is more interesting and furnishes more explanations in the sphere
of sociology than the study of the abstract. For we observe complete and
complex beings. We too describe them in their organisms and psychai as
well as in their behavior as groups, with the attendant psychoses: sentiments,
ideas and desires of the crowd, of organized societies and their sub-groups.
We see bodies and their reactions, and their ideas and sentiments as
interpretations or as motive forces. The aim and principle of sociology is to
observe and understand the whole group in its total behavior.[2]
[d] Arctic RF |
Mauss did “observe the whole group in its total behavior,”
and has been a model for anthropologists and sociologists because of it. Indeed, Mauss’s use of ethnographic example
is far richer and more nuanced than that of his uncle and teacher (Durkheim), as is his desire to
bring the individual more prominently into the discussion of social actions.
With just the short introduction above, one can clearly see outlines of what would become Marcel Granet’s approach to Chinese society and its regeneration in festivals and the shared harvest. That Marcel Mauss’s influence on his friend Marcel Granet has often been slighted in favor of their teacher, Emile Durkheim, is due, I feel, to scholars’ failure to read Mauss’s less well-known works as carefully as Granet and his friends did.
Perhaps the work that influenced the small circle of thinkers in the Durkheimian tradition the most was his “Essay on Seasonal Variations of the Eskimo Societies.” It has captured few imaginations beyond that small coterie, but it was a powerful reason why Marcel Granet carried L’année sociologique with him to China—and brought it with him as the Qing government fell all around him. It is also surely the reason why Granet recommended that one of his very best students spend two months reading and rereading it. Read it carefully, he told the student; mark it, reread it, and ponder it. It is because this now obscure essay has the seeds of a new way of looking at social life.[3]
With just the short introduction above, one can clearly see outlines of what would become Marcel Granet’s approach to Chinese society and its regeneration in festivals and the shared harvest. That Marcel Mauss’s influence on his friend Marcel Granet has often been slighted in favor of their teacher, Emile Durkheim, is due, I feel, to scholars’ failure to read Mauss’s less well-known works as carefully as Granet and his friends did.
Perhaps the work that influenced the small circle of thinkers in the Durkheimian tradition the most was his “Essay on Seasonal Variations of the Eskimo Societies.” It has captured few imaginations beyond that small coterie, but it was a powerful reason why Marcel Granet carried L’année sociologique with him to China—and brought it with him as the Qing government fell all around him. It is also surely the reason why Granet recommended that one of his very best students spend two months reading and rereading it. Read it carefully, he told the student; mark it, reread it, and ponder it. It is because this now obscure essay has the seeds of a new way of looking at social life.[3]
[e] Movement RF |
It moves. Society—it moves.
That is the point of Mauss’s brief essay, and it is laid out with the linguistic depth and ethnographic detail that colleagues had come to expect from him. The question behind the essay, as with most of Mauss’s works, is deceptively simple. Why do Eskimo groups winter in one place and summer in another? No good Durkheimian would expect anything but a social answer. As Durkheim himself maintained, there is a perpetual need of re-formation in all social groups. They are anything but static, even in the most traditional societies.
Even the most private and sequestered of groups—isolated from others for months at a time—has a powerful need for re-formation and social connection. In the most basic sense, outsiders need to be brought in as marriage partners and child bearers, lest the inner group shrivel, literally and figuratively. Moreover, there is a need for social gathering that comes from the intermixing of groups that usually are hostile to—or at least distant from—one another in several respects. Marcel Mauss makes the point that there is a powerful need for integration and dispersal that goes to the very core of human society.
Society moves.
Mauss’s elegant arguments and fine use of ethnographic example gives Seasonal Migrations its power. He describes the coming together of units of Eskimo society in almost the manner of a novelist, much as Granet would later articulate Chinese festivals with an enthusiasm that channeled the literary flair of the great French novels of the nineteenth century. Echoing the social theory behind The Gift, Mauss notes the social necessity of changing locations. They can do none other than to gather, revel, compete, and confuse the social order. They can do none other than to disperse and return to their smaller units in order to gather their strength for winter work (and, as Mauss notes, to rest from the stressful short-term pressures of intense social interaction). Movements are not individual or contrived. They are systematic. Social.
Mauss’s elegant arguments and fine use of ethnographic example gives Seasonal Migrations its power. He describes the coming together of units of Eskimo society in almost the manner of a novelist, much as Granet would later articulate Chinese festivals with an enthusiasm that channeled the literary flair of the great French novels of the nineteenth century. Echoing the social theory behind The Gift, Mauss notes the social necessity of changing locations. They can do none other than to gather, revel, compete, and confuse the social order. They can do none other than to disperse and return to their smaller units in order to gather their strength for winter work (and, as Mauss notes, to rest from the stressful short-term pressures of intense social interaction). Movements are not individual or contrived. They are systematic. Social.
Winter is a season when Eskimo society is highly
concentrated and in a
state of continual excitement and hyperactivity. Because individuals are
brought into close contact with one another, their social interactions become
more frequent, more continuous and more coherent; ideas are exchanged;
feelings are mutually revived and reinforced. By its existence and constant
activity, the group becomes more aware of itself and assumes a more
prominent place in the consciousness of individuals. Conversely in summer,
social bonds are relaxed; fewer relationships are formed, and there are fewer
people with whom to make them; and thus, psychologically, life slackens its
pace. The difference between the two periods of the year is, in short, as great
as can possibly occur between a period of intense social activity and a phase
of languid and depressed social life.[3]
state of continual excitement and hyperactivity. Because individuals are
brought into close contact with one another, their social interactions become
more frequent, more continuous and more coherent; ideas are exchanged;
feelings are mutually revived and reinforced. By its existence and constant
activity, the group becomes more aware of itself and assumes a more
prominent place in the consciousness of individuals. Conversely in summer,
social bonds are relaxed; fewer relationships are formed, and there are fewer
people with whom to make them; and thus, psychologically, life slackens its
pace. The difference between the two periods of the year is, in short, as great
as can possibly occur between a period of intense social activity and a phase
of languid and depressed social life.[3]
It is as though human society came together in festivals,
only to disperse again. It is as though,
being alone, the desire for social grouping fairly pulls them toward
communion. It is as though the very
pressures of communion dictate their return “home.” It is as though social movements, the
interactions of people, were based on a calendrical pressure that was attuned
to the changing seasons. It is as though
the very movements of the calendar (and this is a key point) were dependent on
the movements of people.
Think about that. No, really think about it.
It will change your life, just as it did Marcel Granet's. Mauss’s analyses of total social phenomena and the movement of gifts and people would have a powerful effect on his friend Marcel Granet as he began his serious study of Chinese texts and two decades of intense scholarly publication between the World Wars.
Notes
Think about that. No, really think about it.
It will change your life, just as it did Marcel Granet's. Mauss’s analyses of total social phenomena and the movement of gifts and people would have a powerful effect on his friend Marcel Granet as he began his serious study of Chinese texts and two decades of intense scholarly publication between the World Wars.
Notes
[1] Marcel Mauss, The Gift [Translated by Ian Cunnison] (New York: Martino Fine Books, 2011), 3.
[2] Mauss, Gift, 4.
[3] Marcel Granet, The Religion of the Chinese People [Translated with an introduction by Maurice Freedman] (New York: Harper & Row, 1973), 22.
[4] Marcel Mauss, Seasonal
Variations of the Eskimo: A Study in Social Morphology [Translated by Ian Cunnison] (London: Routledge and Kegan Paul, 1979), 76-77.
Bibliography
Granet, Marcel. The Religion of the Chinese People [Translated with an introduction by Maurice
Freedman]. New York: Harper & Row, 1973).
Freedman]. New York: Harper & Row, 1973).
Mauss, Marcel. The Gift [Translated by Ian Cunnison. New York: Martino Fine Books, 2011.
Mauss, Marcel. Seasonal Variations of the Eskimo: A Study in Social Morphology [Translated by
Ian Cunnison]. London: Routledge and Kegan Paul, 1979.
Mauss, Marcel. Seasonal Variations of the Eskimo: A Study in Social Morphology [Translated by
Ian Cunnison]. London: Routledge and Kegan Paul, 1979.
[g] Seasonal RF |
I'm embarrased to say that I still have not read Seasonal Migrations... I plead that it is not easy to get a copy (has the Beloit library gotten one since Saul and I left? We need to make that happen, and I'll see what the status at Princeton is...). In any case, this kind of thing is becoming very important to thinking about what I am experiencing in Mongolia right now. A few anthropologists (Caroline Humphrey and my friend, Humphrey's student, Morten Pedersen) describe how for Mongolians the period of movement itself is viewed/experienced as a kind of "void." I thought that this was interesting but that I didn't have much in my own experience to comment on it until very recently. Spring (havar) is a very charged period for Mongolians, including those living and working at the mining combine Erdenet (who are, I argue, quite in touch with the social realm of "the countryside" as we continue our Soviet utopic living/dreaming). Everyone complains about feeling tired. (I'm also captivated by a review article I was just reading about the wide seasonal variations in metabolic rates among the Inuit, Siberians including the Russian/Mongolian Buryats, and Northern Europeans (Russians at least certainly have some significant seasonal migration going on-- the summer residence at the dacha or country house/individual agricultural plots granted by the socialist state but around before)... I hope Boas and Krusko would be proud). The animals are both giving birth and weak from the winter and the weather is fickle. And activity at the Mother Tree steps up, this year, especially on April 6... the day of "nemegdekh hansh," which I am having a very hard time translating (and I do not know from what calendar the establishment of this date derives... the "Buddhist" zurkhai? Something more "shamanic?" I am also embarrased to say that I have not purchased a copy of this year's zurkhai yet). It has some meaning along the lines of the appearance (also given to me in Russian with the verb otkrit, or to open or uncover) of goodness (my friend seemed unable or unwilling to translate "hansh" into Russian), apparently, and people tell me that it marks the "beginning of spring," which I found confusing before, as the Lunar New Year also marks "the beginning." But now I realize that both of these dates mark times of movement and coming together (though also parting)-- during the Lunar New Year, Tsaagan Sar, the White Moon, beginning when the first bit of the new moon appears or the closest sunrise, people spend three days to several weeks visiting first their parents and older relatives/teachers/coworkers/etc., then younger ones, and finally their friends/agemates. And as we drove to the Tree, where we found and joined a striking example of Durkheimian collective ritual, people could be seen setting up their gers in their "summer places," some with different neighbors than at their winter places, and when I returned to Erdenet I heard from friends that their friends were also moving to their summer places.
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