CHAPTER XVIIIART AND WORK
In our treatment of erotic art we have been led far away from the connection between art and the maintenance of species. Whatever the case may be for animals and those primitive men whose sexual life is restricted within a short and fixed pairing season, an artificial stimulation of the erotic feelings is nobiologicalrequirement for the existing tribes of man. Where art has mainly served this purpose, it has not, as has been shown, by any means exercised a beneficial influence on the race. The most typical illustrations in the last chapter were therefore found in the artistic productions of degenerate tribes which no doubt would, if brought into conflict with less licentious neighbours, prove inferior in the struggle for existence. And all these instances afford invaluable arguments to those philosophers who consider art as a checking and weakening factor in progress.
It is hoped, however, that the present chapter will contribute towards the refutation of such one-sided views. We intend to adduce instances from various stages of culture which will bring out the importance of art as a favouring factor in the struggle for life.
It is evident that a pantomimic imitation of any activity must, as exercise and stimulation, facilitate thesubsequent real execution of the same activity. Individuals and nations who have grown familiar in play with the most important actions in life’s work have thus acquired an unquestionable advantage in the struggle for existence. After the publication of Professor Groos’s great works on animal and human recreations it is needless to dwell upon this point. This eminent psychologist has, with regard to the evolutionary value of sportive representations—or, as he prefers to say, “præ-presentations”—of life, been led to consider them as based on inherited instinctive impulses. Instead of the play-impulse, which only serves to provide an outflow for the superfluous energy in the organism, he has thus introduced the conception of an activity which exercises an important positive influence on life. And, on the other hand, his consummate researches have brought out with especial clearness the intimate connection between play and art. A great many of the instances he has collected present all the technical qualifications of a manifestation of dramatic art. As Groos himself remarks, only the addition of a disinterested æsthetic attention in the players is needed in order to transform the instinctive activities into artistic ones. How this transition has taken place is a question which will undoubtedly be treated in the great system of art-philosophy to which the hitherto published works of Professor Groos constitute the introduction. We have therefore only to point out how much support these views derive from the study of primitive art. In the various tribes, with their differing types of life, there is afforded a singular opportunity of observing the connection between play, or art, and the serious occupations of life. The games of the children, as well as the dances and pantomimes of the full-grown, almost everywhere correspond to the prevailing activities in the various communities. The North American Indians, the Malays, the Maoris, the tribes of Central Asia, and others, all furnish instances of the familiar law that the amusements of warlike nations mainly consists in exercises which are preliminary to, or reminiscent of, the experiences of battle. A war dance or a mimic fight is the traditional type not only of their public entertainments, but also of their state ceremonial. No example could be more telling than that of the Dahomey state dances, which, however they may begin, always seem to end with an imitation of the greatest social action in the country—decapitation.[390]Where the struggle for existence is a contest with nature and not with fellow-men, a hunting or fishing pantomime usually takes the place of these military performances. It is true that such representations of work often lose their importance in national art when the conditions of life grow easier. Mr. Taplin thus contrasts the rich and varied entertainments of the Polynesians, who without any exertion obtain their subsistence from their bountiful soil, with the amusements of the poor Narrinyeri, who even in their dances and pantomimes have always practised “those arts which were necessary to get a living.”[391]But it is significant that even the inhabitants of these “happy islands” in their dramatic performances introduce imitations of rowing, fighting, and other kinds of common work. And at still higher degrees of development, where the division of labour has given rise to special trades, all these various crafts will often, as was the case in Dahomey, in ancient Peru, and in mediævalEurope, be a favourite subject for pantomimic representation.[392]If such representations have been of no especial value as exercise, they may nevertheless, by bringing about an association between work and pleasure, have made toil and labour less repugnant. The exertions called forth by the struggle for existence have thus at all stages of culture, except that of modern industrialism, been to some extent facilitated by art.
Perhaps even more important in their influences than the imitation of work in play or drama are the artistic activities which accompany the actual performance of work. As these kinds of dance and song have been somewhat overlooked by Professor Groos, there is reason to make them the subject of a closer investigation.
When explaining the manifestations of art which can thus, in the literal meaning of the word, be called songs and dances of action, we have to divide our attention between two different points of view. First, the need of stimulation and regulation of the work of the individual, and, second, the need of co-operation in the work of different individuals. In both these respects art has had an importance among primitive tribes which can scarcely be overrated.
It is well known that at a lower degree of mental development the power of instantaneous muscular exertion is far less than among educated men. Broca’s experiments showed that artisans with somewhat trained intelligence generally reached higher figures on a dynamometer than working men who were only used to bodily exertions. And the Negroes, whose forces were tested by Féré, were far below the average of Europeans.[393]As in these experiments the natives were introduced to new and unaccustomed movements, the evidence of the psychometric apparatus must be considered as somewhat extenuated by the circumstances. Broadly speaking, these experiments can, however, be taken as indications of a general psychological law.[394]The experimental evidence is, moreover, corroborated by the common complaints of Europeans who have had to rely on natives. The slowness with which the primitive man gets into swing with his work has no doubt been referred to times without number by slavekeepers when advocating their methods of treating natives. Strange to say, there are some tribes which themselves candidly admit their own inertness, and voluntarily submit to whipping in order to get “their blood a little agitated.”[395]
The slowness and the insensibility of the Guarani are, however, as appears from Mr. Rengger’s description, exceptional and pathological.[396]But it seems as if almost all tribes had invented some means of inciting themselves to work. Only, these means are seldom such as Europeans would feel inclined to avail themselves of when urging on their workers. That they can nevertheless be as effectual as even the slavekeepers whip is shown by Signor Salvado. His description of his experiences with Australian natives as farm-labourers is delightful: “How often,” says he, “have I not used their dancing songs in order to encourage and urge them on in their work. I have seen them, not once, but a thousand times lying on the ground with minds and bodies wearied by their labour; yet as soon as theyheard me singing the Machielò-Machielé, which is one of their commonest and favourite dancing songs, they would yield to an irresistible impulse, and rise and join me with their voices. They would even begin to dance joyfully and contentedly, especially when they saw me singing and dancing among them, like any other savage. After a few minutes of dancing I would seize the opportunity to cry out to them in a merry voice, Mingo! Mingo! a word meaning breast, which is also used in the same way as our word courage. After such an exhortation they would gradually set to work again. And they would begin afresh with such goodwill and eagerness, that it seemed as if the dance of Machielò had communicated to them new courage and new vigour.”[397]
From many parts of the world there may be quoted examples of savages who always raise a chant when compelled to overcome their natural laziness.[398]In many cases they seem, as in Salvado’s anecdote, to avail themselves of words and melodies which perhaps were originally intended only for amusement.[399]But it is also well known that working men everywhere stimulate themselves by special songs of exhortation.[400]And when employed in prolonged and monotonous work they everywhere seem to know that toil may be relieved bysong.[401]The majority of these work poems may perhaps be of no great poetical or musical merit, but that does not affect their great evolutionistic importance. Whether Noiré is right or not in his theory that language has developed from the work cries of primitive men,[402]there is no doubt that some of the simplest and perhaps earliest specimens of poetry are to be found among the short ditties sung by labourers during their work. The stimulus which is provided by such songs is easily understood without any explanation. But their invigorating power will be perceived more clearly when we take into account that emotional susceptibility to musical impressions which has been remarked in so many primitive tribes.[403]Besides these invigorating effects, every musical accompaniment will also, by virtue of its rhythmic elements, regulate the movements of work, and thereby produce a saving of force deployed.
When the words of the work-songs refer to the action itself, the effect will be strengthened by verbal suggestion. It is true that many of the songs which are sung during the manufacture of weapons and utensils, during boat-building and such-like, are magical in their intention.[404]But there is no doubt that the ideas of poetical magic are to a great extent derived from a psychological experience of the suggestive power of words. Without committing ourselves to any superstition, we can easily believe that—in Polynesia as wellas in ancient Finland—canoes were better built when the “boat-building” song was properly recited by the builder. Only we prefer to think that the magic operated on the workman and not on his material.
The psychological influence of the work dances is still easier to understand. Preliminary movements, even when undirected, always make the subsequent action more effective; witness a golfer’s flourish before driving. As Lagrange has pointed out, their effect will be to develop that amount of animal heat which is necessary for every muscular contraction.[405]When, moreover, they are fixed and differentiated in their form, the influence will of course be all the greater. By every attempt to execute a special movement, the idea of such movement is made more and more distinct. And as hereby the ideomotor force of this representation is increased, the final action must be executed with greater ease and greater efficacy. The validity of this law may be easily proved by experimental psychology. Féré has in his dynamometrical tests observed that the second pressure always attains a higher figure than the first one. “La première pression a pour effet de renforcer la représentation mentale du mouvement.”[406]Without any theoretical knowledge of these psychological facts, the common man has always been able to avail himself of the beneficial effects which are to be derived from preliminary imitations of any difficult movement. Hence the curious pantomimes of experimentation which we may always observe in the artisan who has to give a finishing touch to his work, or in the athlete who tries to perform a new and unaccustomed exercise.
The psychology of movement-perception, as we have described it in the foregoing, makes it evident that a similar prompting influence may be exercised by the actions of others.[407]This is an experience which must have occurred, we should imagine, to every one who has been coached in golf by a professional. When concentrating his attention upon each successive movement in the instructor’s model performance, the beginner in sports and gymnastics receives with his whole body, so to speak, an impression of the exercise he has to go through. The representation thus gains in distinctness as well as in motor force, and the subsequent movement is executed in an almost automatic way.
These familiar facts from the psychology of everyday life will explain why among the savage tribes we so often meet with the institution of the præsul. When any labour is to be performed which requires the co-operation of many hands, such as the harvest or rowing, the præsul demonstrates in dance or pantomime the sequence of movements which the others have to go through.[408]By the suggestive influence of his performance all the individual workers are stimulated in their exertions. More important, however, than this stimulation is the co-ordination of labour which is effected by the element of rhythm in song and dance.
We have in a previous chapter spoken at sufficient length of the incalculable æsthetic importance of rhythmas a means of producing emotional community between different individuals. In this connection we have still to point out that a fixed time-division must in the same way facilitate common activity. From the historical point of view this practical aspect is undoubtedly the more important. However fundamental and primordial the æsthetic function of the perception of rhythm may seem for the theorist, it is most probable that the development of this faculty has been chiefly furthered by its utilitarian advantages. There is no doubt that even the most primitive man may feel the want of associating his fellow-men in his emotions, and that for this purpose he may be able to give the expression of them a fixed rhythmical form. But the power of perceiving this time-division as a rhythm, and of obeying it closely in song and dance, would, as Dr. Wallaschek has shown, certainly not have attained so high a degree of development if this power had not, by facilitating common activity, been of such immense advantage for the maintenance of species.[409]It goes without saying that any work which necessitates the co-operation of several workers must be executed with greater efficiency the more closely the individuals follow to a common rhythm.
There is no doubt, therefore, that, as Spencer remarks, the incompetence of the Arab and Nubian boatmen on the Nile is chiefly a result of their inability to act together. As an Arab dragoman is reported to have said, a few Europeans would, by virtue only of their superior powers of co-operation, do in a few minutes what now occupies hundreds of men.[410]Such an incapacity for concerted action is, however,quite exceptional among the lower tribes of men. Some tribes, ase.g.the farmer Negroes in West Africa and the Malay and Polynesian boatmen, are even famous for the wonderful regularity of their work.[411]This regularity, on the other hand, has been explained by all travellers as a result of the rhythmical songs by which their work is accompanied.
It is significant that the most typical specimens of working songs and dances should be met with in the tribes of Oceania. The insular life, which even in other respects has been so favourable to the development of art, has necessitated a most intimate co-operation between individuals.[412]Hence the development of canoe dances and boating songs, by help of which the movements of the rowers are adjusted according to common and fixed rhythms.[413]The same necessity has of course produced similar results, in a greater or less degree, in every community where the type of life makes collective action needful. It has not given rise to any important manifestations of art among the pastoral tribes, in which individuals can do well enough without help from each other. In agricultural societies, on the other hand, it has called forth those sowing and harvest dances or songs which are so familiar in the folklore of the civilised nations.[414]And, more than any other of life’soccupations, war has required an active coherence between the individual members of the tribe. The influence of military institutions on art is, however, in more than one respect so important that its treatment must be reserved for a special chapter.