One year ago on Round and Square (7 August 2011)—Hurtin' Country: Pocket Full of Gold
Click here for the introduction to the Round and Square series "Rural Religion in Early China."
Click here for the introduction to the Round and Square series "Rural Religion in Early China."
[a] Household RF |
Click here for other posts in Round and Square's "Rural Religion in China" series:
Rural 9 Rural 10 Rural 11 Rural 12 Rural 13 Rural 14 Rural 15 Rural 16 Rural 17 Rural 18 Rural 19 Rural 20 Rural 21 Rural 22 Rural 23 Rural 24
Rural 25 Rural 26 Rural 27 Rural 28 Rural 29 Rural 30 Rural 31 Rural 32 Rural 33
Rural 25 Rural 26 Rural 27 Rural 28 Rural 29 Rural 30 Rural 31 Rural 32 Rural 33
Marcel Granet’s sociological and sinological imagination
is powerfully at work in his description of peasant life in The Religion of the Chinese People. From
the first lines of the book, Granet establishes the very foundation of his
Durkheimian argument about the nature of the domestic order and the importance
of the homestead in the rural world. He builds a set of images that uses direct
reference to the lines of the Shijing
in describing the roof, the kiln, and the walls.
The peasants occupied villages situated on high ground and usually enclosed by quickset
The peasants occupied villages situated on high ground and usually enclosed by quickset
hedges. Some of them were cave-dwellers, and perhaps all of them were in ancient
times.
Most commonly they built their houses in the shape of a kiln, out of mud and rammed earth.
The walls and the roofs were so thin that a rat or a sparrow could pierce them.[1]
Les paysans habitaient dans des villages placés sur une hauteur et enclos en général
d'une
haie vive. Certains étaient troglodytes, peut-être presque tous le furent-ils Most commonly they built their houses in the shape of a kiln, out of mud and rammed earth.
The walls and the roofs were so thin that a rat or a sparrow could pierce them.[1]
Les paysans habitaient dans des villages placés sur une hauteur et enclos en général
anciennement. Le plus souvent ils bâtissaient en torchis et en pisé des maisons qui
avaient la forme d'un four. Les murs et la toiture étaient si frêles qu'un rat ou un
moineau pouvaient les percer.[2]
[b] Community RF |
A square opening in the middle of the roof allowed the smoke of the hearth to pass out
and the rain to fall through and be
collected. On the south side a door
opened to the
east and a little window to the west. The house was just one room. In the southwest
corner, the darkest, the grain was stored; there too people slept, on straw or reed mats.[3]
Au centre du toit une ouverture carrée laissait passer la fumée du foyer et l'eau de pluie,
qu'on recueillait. Sur la face méridionale s'ouvraient une porte à l'Est, une petite fenêtre
à l'Ouest. La maison ne formait qu'une seule pièce. Dans le coin Sud-Ouest, le plus sombre,
on conservait les semences; c'était là aussi qu'on allait dormir, sur des nattes de paille ou
de jonc.[4]
Granet appears here as a textual anthropologist with a straight description (right from his “fieldnotes,” as it were) of peasant households. In fact, at the very time of the composition of Religion, several early ethnographers around the world—such as Bronislaw Malinowski in New Guinea—were writing just such accounts of dwellings in their own notes.
In just two statements, and less than a full paragraph of text, Granet has provided a description that will provide a foundation for the rhythms of social and religious (for they are the same thing for a good Durkheimian) life. The roof opens to the heavens and the south-side door opens to powerful “calendrical” directions leading to east and west. It is extremely important, however, to note that these directions are only referred to in practical terms for the moment. Their cosmic importance will emerge in due course.
Every house had its own compound. Round it was an orchard planted principally with
east and a little window to the west. The house was just one room. In the southwest
corner, the darkest, the grain was stored; there too people slept, on straw or reed mats.[3]
Au centre du toit une ouverture carrée laissait passer la fumée du foyer et l'eau de pluie,
qu'on recueillait. Sur la face méridionale s'ouvraient une porte à l'Est, une petite fenêtre
à l'Ouest. La maison ne formait qu'une seule pièce. Dans le coin Sud-Ouest, le plus sombre,
on conservait les semences; c'était là aussi qu'on allait dormir, sur des nattes de paille ou
de jonc.[4]
Granet appears here as a textual anthropologist with a straight description (right from his “fieldnotes,” as it were) of peasant households. In fact, at the very time of the composition of Religion, several early ethnographers around the world—such as Bronislaw Malinowski in New Guinea—were writing just such accounts of dwellings in their own notes.
[c] Direction RF |
In just two statements, and less than a full paragraph of text, Granet has provided a description that will provide a foundation for the rhythms of social and religious (for they are the same thing for a good Durkheimian) life. The roof opens to the heavens and the south-side door opens to powerful “calendrical” directions leading to east and west. It is extremely important, however, to note that these directions are only referred to in practical terms for the moment. Their cosmic importance will emerge in due course.
Every house had its own compound. Round it was an orchard planted principally with
mulberries. The low-lying lands
were kept for cultivation; the furrows crossed, running
from East to West and South to North, and the fields were square, separated by the
uncultivated edges that were used as paths and where small huts were built; these last
sheltered the workers who lived there to watch over their harvests and who never left
their fields except during the dead season. They saw their wives only at meals, which
were brought by them with the help of their children. As long as the rains allowed work
to go on, the peasants drew from the fertile alluvium hemp, peas, and cereals, principally
millet, which were their staple foodstuffs. When the grain was threshed and stored, they
returned to the village, repaired their roofs, blocked cracks in the walls, and shut themselves
up in their housed during the hard and dry cold of the winter: they rested, as did the soil,
worn out by the effort of production. But for the women on the other hand it was then by
no means the dead season: they spun hemp and wove clothes.[5]
Chaque maison avait son enceinte particulière. Tout autour était un verger planté surtout
de mûriers. Les basses terres étaient réservées aux cultures ; les sillons, tracés de l'Est à
l'Ouest et du Sud au Nord, se croisaient, et les champs étaient carrés, séparés par des
bordures en friche qui servaient de chemins, et où étaient construites de petites cabanes :
elles abritaient les travailleurs, ils y demeuraient pour surveiller leurs récoltes, et, sauf
pendant la morte-saison, ils ne quittaient point leurs champs. Ils ne voyaient leurs femmes
qu'aux repas : elles les leur apportaient, aidées des enfants. Tant que les pluies rendaient
possible le travail, les paysans tiraient du limon fertile chanvre, pois, céréales, le millet
surtout, qui était le fond de leur nourriture. Le grain battu et engrangé, ils remontaient au
village, réparaient les toitures, bouchaient les fentes des murs et s'enfermaient dans les
maisons pour laisser passer les froids durs et secs de l'hiver : ils se reposaient, comme la
terre, fatigués d'avoir produit. Pour les femmes, au contraire, ce n'était point alors la
morte-saison : elles filaient le chanvre et tissaient les vêtements.[6]
From the solid domestic foundation of the home and hearth (and I do not use those terms as clichés), we proceed in Granet’s account to the movements of people, specifically in the forms of their work. Here, the work that gives people sustenance emerges from a rhythmic response to (and creation of) the patterns of nature, specifically the wet and dry seasons. The yin-yang breakdown of the year begins with the gender division in humans.
The two sexes took it in turns to labor: the work, regulated by an alternating rhythm, was
from East to West and South to North, and the fields were square, separated by the
uncultivated edges that were used as paths and where small huts were built; these last
sheltered the workers who lived there to watch over their harvests and who never left
their fields except during the dead season. They saw their wives only at meals, which
were brought by them with the help of their children. As long as the rains allowed work
to go on, the peasants drew from the fertile alluvium hemp, peas, and cereals, principally
millet, which were their staple foodstuffs. When the grain was threshed and stored, they
returned to the village, repaired their roofs, blocked cracks in the walls, and shut themselves
up in their housed during the hard and dry cold of the winter: they rested, as did the soil,
worn out by the effort of production. But for the women on the other hand it was then by
no means the dead season: they spun hemp and wove clothes.[5]
Chaque maison avait son enceinte particulière. Tout autour était un verger planté surtout
de mûriers. Les basses terres étaient réservées aux cultures ; les sillons, tracés de l'Est à
l'Ouest et du Sud au Nord, se croisaient, et les champs étaient carrés, séparés par des
bordures en friche qui servaient de chemins, et où étaient construites de petites cabanes :
elles abritaient les travailleurs, ils y demeuraient pour surveiller leurs récoltes, et, sauf
pendant la morte-saison, ils ne quittaient point leurs champs. Ils ne voyaient leurs femmes
qu'aux repas : elles les leur apportaient, aidées des enfants. Tant que les pluies rendaient
possible le travail, les paysans tiraient du limon fertile chanvre, pois, céréales, le millet
surtout, qui était le fond de leur nourriture. Le grain battu et engrangé, ils remontaient au
village, réparaient les toitures, bouchaient les fentes des murs et s'enfermaient dans les
maisons pour laisser passer les froids durs et secs de l'hiver : ils se reposaient, comme la
terre, fatigués d'avoir produit. Pour les femmes, au contraire, ce n'était point alors la
morte-saison : elles filaient le chanvre et tissaient les vêtements.[6]
From the solid domestic foundation of the home and hearth (and I do not use those terms as clichés), we proceed in Granet’s account to the movements of people, specifically in the forms of their work. Here, the work that gives people sustenance emerges from a rhythmic response to (and creation of) the patterns of nature, specifically the wet and dry seasons. The yin-yang breakdown of the year begins with the gender division in humans.
The two sexes took it in turns to labor: the work, regulated by an alternating rhythm, was
modeled on the succession of wet and
dry seasons well marked on the plains of eastern
Asia.[7]
Les deux sexes se relayaient au travail : celui-ci, réglé par un rythme alternant, se
Asia.[7]
Les deux sexes se relayaient au travail : celui-ci, réglé par un rythme alternant, se
modelait sur la succession des saisons humides et sèches, si bien marquée dans
les
plaines de l'Asie orientale.[8]
It is the balance of work within and between the
sexes—divided by each to fit the needs of the seasons and of human society—that
gives shape to the system of village life that Granet is about to
describe. We have a world of segmented
divisions based closely on nature itself, with gender and seasonal alternation
lying at the heart of family organization.
From the foundation that Granet has developed in the preceding entries, we can begin to see the outlines of village organization within the world of nature. Up until this point, we have seen only division of labor between men and women and the architectural solidity of the domestic order (rats and sparrows breaking through the compound’s walls to the contrary). Before we proceed, however, it is important to note that the foundations of which Granet speaks when dealing with nature and society are neither Darwinian nor Marxian. They are of a different order altogether. They reject typical distinctions of “ideal” and “real” in the social and natural worlds.
Throughout the year, in fields cultivated in common as in their shut-off villages, the
plaines de l'Asie orientale.[8]
[d] Foundation RF |
From the foundation that Granet has developed in the preceding entries, we can begin to see the outlines of village organization within the world of nature. Up until this point, we have seen only division of labor between men and women and the architectural solidity of the domestic order (rats and sparrows breaking through the compound’s walls to the contrary). Before we proceed, however, it is important to note that the foundations of which Granet speaks when dealing with nature and society are neither Darwinian nor Marxian. They are of a different order altogether. They reject typical distinctions of “ideal” and “real” in the social and natural worlds.
Throughout the year, in fields cultivated in common as in their shut-off villages, the
peasants had dealings only with their
kinsmen. A village enclosed a close-knit
unit and
homogeneous great family. Ties of blood, natural filiations, did not introduce true divisions
into this large community: a nephew was not less than a son nor a father more than an
uncle.[9]
Tout au long de l'année, dans les champs cultivés en commun, comme dans leur village
homogeneous great family. Ties of blood, natural filiations, did not introduce true divisions
into this large community: a nephew was not less than a son nor a father more than an
uncle.[9]
Tout au long de l'année, dans les champs cultivés en commun, comme dans leur village
enclos,
les paysans n'ont de rapports qu'avec les membres de leur parenté. Un village
enferme une vaste famille très unie et très homogène. Les liens du sang, la filiation naturelle
n'introduisent pas de véritables divisions dans cette large communauté : un neveu n'est pas
moins qu'un fils ni un père plus qu'un oncle.[10]
The description begins to gain energy as we move from
fields cultivated in common (adjacent to villages relatively closed to outside
contact) to peasants having dealings almost exclusively with their own
kinsmen. Although we certainly have seen
work and social life divided along gender lines to this point, it is difficult
to see divisions within society of a greater order. For Granet, the village is a “homogeneous
great family.” Ties of blood in such a
community do not introduce divisions of a serious nature, and he goes on to
show a startling example of that, in which common kinship distinctions such as
father-son and uncle-nephew, are (at least within the closed community he takes
pains to describe in his account of rural life) of no significant
difference.
One suspects at least a bit of hyperbole here, but Granet’s point remains important. The kinds of jealousy and possessiveness that we can see in fragmented and skewed social settings (Rousseau could be quoted here just as easily could the author of China’s great novel of decadence, the Jin Ping Mei) is lacking because the domestic order is driven by the rhythmic order of the seasons—one that places the larger unit (the work unit divided by gender) above smaller divisions within the household and community. Granet’s rhetoric is pointed:
Domestic life had no exclusive sentiments: all the young people of one generation,
enferme une vaste famille très unie et très homogène. Les liens du sang, la filiation naturelle
n'introduisent pas de véritables divisions dans cette large communauté : un neveu n'est pas
moins qu'un fils ni un père plus qu'un oncle.[10]
[e] Ties RF |
One suspects at least a bit of hyperbole here, but Granet’s point remains important. The kinds of jealousy and possessiveness that we can see in fragmented and skewed social settings (Rousseau could be quoted here just as easily could the author of China’s great novel of decadence, the Jin Ping Mei) is lacking because the domestic order is driven by the rhythmic order of the seasons—one that places the larger unit (the work unit divided by gender) above smaller divisions within the household and community. Granet’s rhetoric is pointed:
Domestic life had no exclusive sentiments: all the young people of one generation,
brothers or cousins (it was all one) married women
who were equally sisters and cousins.
In this huge family maternal affection itself did not take on an appearance of jealous
affection: if anybody was preferred it was the children of the eldest sister.[11]
La vie de ménage elle-même n'entraîne guère de sentiments exclusifs : tous les jeunes
In this huge family maternal affection itself did not take on an appearance of jealous
affection: if anybody was preferred it was the children of the eldest sister.[11]
La vie de ménage elle-même n'entraîne guère de sentiments exclusifs : tous les jeunes
gens d'une génération, frères ou cousins (c'est tout un), épousent des
femmes également
sœurs ou cousines. Dans cette vaste famille, l'affection maternelle elle-même n'arrive pas
à prendre un air d'affection jalouse : s'il y a préférence, elle va aux enfants de la sœur
aînée.[12]
Male or female, it is really only the generation of the village head, or father, that has any kind of ascendancy at all, and that is of an order that fits the natural rhythms.
In like fashion, all the aunts were called mothers: the mother most respected was not the
sœurs ou cousines. Dans cette vaste famille, l'affection maternelle elle-même n'arrive pas
à prendre un air d'affection jalouse : s'il y a préférence, elle va aux enfants de la sœur
aînée.[12]
Male or female, it is really only the generation of the village head, or father, that has any kind of ascendancy at all, and that is of an order that fits the natural rhythms.
In like fashion, all the aunts were called mothers: the mother most respected was not the
woman who gave one birth but the woman who by her age (or her husband’s)
occupied
the rank of mother of the family. Indeed, age and generation were the sole principles of
classification within the domestic community, which was led, or better still, represented by
the oldest member of the most senior generation. This latter was called head or father.[13]
De même, toutes les tantes sont appelées mères : la plus respectée n'est point celle dont
on est né, mais celle qui par son âge (ou par l'âge de son mari) a rang de mère de famille.
L'âge et la génération, en effet, tels sont les seuls principes de classement à l'intérieur
de la communauté domestique ; elle est dirigée ou, pour dire mieux, représentée par le
membre le plus âgé de la génération la plus ancienne : on l'appelle le doyen ou le père.[14]
Granet has given us a picture of a closed system, in which exchange took place between linked partners who worked in concert (at least within their gendered units) and prospered as a group. The integration is deceptive, though, as Granet will show.
That term, which has the meaning of “chieftain,” was used after the family name, which
the rank of mother of the family. Indeed, age and generation were the sole principles of
classification within the domestic community, which was led, or better still, represented by
the oldest member of the most senior generation. This latter was called head or father.[13]
De même, toutes les tantes sont appelées mères : la plus respectée n'est point celle dont
on est né, mais celle qui par son âge (ou par l'âge de son mari) a rang de mère de famille.
L'âge et la génération, en effet, tels sont les seuls principes de classement à l'intérieur
de la communauté domestique ; elle est dirigée ou, pour dire mieux, représentée par le
membre le plus âgé de la génération la plus ancienne : on l'appelle le doyen ou le père.[14]
Granet has given us a picture of a closed system, in which exchange took place between linked partners who worked in concert (at least within their gendered units) and prospered as a group. The integration is deceptive, though, as Granet will show.
That term, which has the meaning of “chieftain,” was used after the family name, which
seems also to have been that of the village. The name, emblem of the community, was
the sign of a sort of identity of substance, specific and incommunicable, which, maintained
by commensality, was the very essence of this kind of kinship.[15]
Ce dernier mot, qui a le sens de chef, s'emploie à la suite du nom de la famille, lequel
semble être aussi celui du village. Le nom, emblème de la communauté, est le signe
d'une sorte d'identité substantielle, spécifique, incommunicable, qui, entretenue par la
commensalité, est l'essence même de ce type de parenté.[16]
Notes
[1] Marcel Granet, The Religion of the Chinese People [Translated by Maurice Freedman] (New York: Harper & Row, 1975), xx.
[2] Marcel Granet, La religion des chinois (Paris: Presses Universitaires de France, 1922), xx.
[3] Granet, Religion, xxx.
[4] Granet, La religion, xxx.
[5] Granet, Religion, xxx.
[6] Granet, La religion, xxx.
[7] Granet, Religion, xxx.
[8] Granet, La religion, xxx.
[9] Granet, Religion, xxx.
[10] Granet, La religion, xxx.
[11] Granet, Religion, xxx.
[12] Granet, La religion, xxx.
[13] Granet, Religion, xxx.
[14] Granet, La religion, xxx.
[15] Granet, Religion, xxx.
[16] Granet, La religion, xxx.
the sign of a sort of identity of substance, specific and incommunicable, which, maintained
by commensality, was the very essence of this kind of kinship.[15]
Ce dernier mot, qui a le sens de chef, s'emploie à la suite du nom de la famille, lequel
semble être aussi celui du village. Le nom, emblème de la communauté, est le signe
d'une sorte d'identité substantielle, spécifique, incommunicable, qui, entretenue par la
commensalité, est l'essence même de ce type de parenté.[16]
[f] Courtyard RF |
Click here for other posts in Round and Square's "Rural Religion in China" series:
Rural 9 Rural 10 Rural 11 Rural 12 Rural 13 Rural 14 Rural 15 Rural 16 Rural 17 Rural 18 Rural 19 Rural 20 Rural 21 Rural 22 Rural 23 Rural 24
Rural 25 Rural 26 Rural 27 Rural 28 Rural 29 Rural 30 Rural 31 Rural 32 Rural 33
Rural 25 Rural 26 Rural 27 Rural 28 Rural 29 Rural 30 Rural 31 Rural 32 Rural 33
[1] Marcel Granet, The Religion of the Chinese People [Translated by Maurice Freedman] (New York: Harper & Row, 1975), xx.
[2] Marcel Granet, La religion des chinois (Paris: Presses Universitaires de France, 1922), xx.
[3] Granet, Religion, xxx.
[4] Granet, La religion, xxx.
[5] Granet, Religion, xxx.
[6] Granet, La religion, xxx.
[7] Granet, Religion, xxx.
[8] Granet, La religion, xxx.
[9] Granet, Religion, xxx.
[10] Granet, La religion, xxx.
[11] Granet, Religion, xxx.
[12] Granet, La religion, xxx.
[13] Granet, Religion, xxx.
[14] Granet, La religion, xxx.
[15] Granet, Religion, xxx.
[16] Granet, La religion, xxx.
Bibliography
Granet, Marcel. The Religion of the Chinese People [Translated by Maurice Freedman]. New York:
Harper & Row, 1975.
Granet, Marcel. La religion des chinois. Paris: Presses Universitaires de France, 1922.
Granet, Marcel. The Religion of the Chinese People [Translated by Maurice Freedman]. New York:
Harper & Row, 1975.
Granet, Marcel. La religion des chinois. Paris: Presses Universitaires de France, 1922.
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