The Nahua Newsletter A Publication of the Indiana University Center for Latin American and Caribbean Studies
Alan R. Sandstrom, Editor
With support from the Department of Anthropology
Indiana University-Purdue University Fort Wayne
November 1999, Number 28
The Nahua Newsletter
A Publication of the Indiana
University
Center for Latin American
and Caribbean Studies
Alan R.
Sandstrom, Editor
With support from the Department
of Anthropology
Indiana University-Purdue University Fort Wayne
Welcome to the Nahua Newsletter. With this issue, we complete 14 years of publishing in the service of students of the culture, language, and history of Nahuatl-speaking peoples. Nahua studies are booming and we are experiencing a significant increase in the number and sophistication of books and articles appearing on Nahua topics as well as a generally greater awareness of the Mesoamerican culture area, both within and outside of academia. The purpose of our newsletter is to provide a hassle-free entry into the international world of Nahua studies and to Mesoamerican scholarship. Here you will find news items, announcements, calls for cooperation, book reviews, and a directory update. We continue to grow and interest remains strong in the NN. We invite you to become a part of the exciting invisible college of researchers as they continue to expand the frontiers of knowledge of this dynamic and interdisciplinary field of study. Readers include social anthropologists, archaeologists, linguists, ethnohistorians, geographers, ethnobotanists, applied anthropologists, art historians, religious studies specialists, and even a Mayanist or two.
Once again, controversy strikes the pages of the NN as we present a point-counterpoint debate between Jonathan Amith of Yale University and Frances Karttunen of the Linguistics Research Center at the University of Texas, Austin. Karttunen's Analytical Dictionary of Nahuatl (ADN) has become a standard reference work for Nahua scholars, and Amith takes issue with several features of the dictionary and questions the accuracy of some translations. The role played by the ADN for Nahua research takes the debate beyond the narrow linguistic issues that lie at the heart of the controversy. We believe that even those who are little interested in the technical aspects of Nahuatl linguistics will benefit from reading about these issues if for no other reason than to be reminded to use critically even standard resources. We also believe that readers should be allowed to judge the merits of these arguments for themselves. The length of the text has required that we move to the February 2000 issue book reviews by Robert Jeske and Richard Bradley, a brief article submitted by Terry Stocker, and a communication from José Alcina Franch from Spain. We apologize to these authors but assure them that these important items will be published in the next issue.
As always, NN finances are precarious. The publication relies on donations from readers and receives no financial support from institutions. Our 14-year life span is testimony to the loyalty and generosity of our readers. Please consider sending a check to insure continuation of your friendly news source for Nahua studies. All donations are placed in a special account and are applied to cover printing and mailing expenses only. There are no administrative costs in producing the NN. And continue to use the NN to announce your publications and achievements and to call for cooperation on research projects. Please send checks (made out to Nahua Newsletter) or any announcements to:
Alan R. Sandstrom, Editor
Nahua Newsletter
Department of Anthropology
Indiana University-Purdue University Fort Wayne
2101 Coliseum Blvd. East
Fort Wayne, IN 46805 U.S.A.
If your announcement is more than a few lines long, please send the material on a 3-1/2" diskette saved in WordPerfect or as an ASCII text file.
1. Susan Kellogg writes to announce that Dimensión Antropológica, an anthropology journal published by INAH, invites researchers in anthropology, history, and affiliated disciplines to contribute original articles based on recent research, theoretical essays, research notices, and book reviews. The journal is planning upcoming special issues on the topics of the African experience in Mexico and racism and legal rights, but submissions on other topics are also welcome. Manuscripts must be submitted in Spanish. For a copy of instructions for manuscript preparation, contact: Professor Susan Kellogg, Department of History, University of Houston, Houston, TX 77204; phone: 713-743-3118; e-mail: histy@jetson.uh.edu. To contact the Consejo Editorial directly, write to: Dimensión Antropológica, Paseo de la Reforma y Gandhi s/n, 1er piso, Delegación Miguel Hidalgo CP 11560, México, D.F.
2. A call for cooperation: Michael Smith writes to the NN to ask if any readers have knowledge of Aztec domestic rituals. He is writing a paper on the topic and using information from his archaeological excavations in Morelos to illuminate this little-known area of Mesoamerican research. He can be reached at the Department of Anthropology, Social Science 263, SUNY Albany, Albany, NY 12222, or by e-mail at mesmith@csc.albany.edu.
Also from Michael Smith: "I have recently taken over as book review editor for the journal Latin American Antiquity. One of my goals is to expand the scope of books covered by the journal in reviews (1,000 words) and in book notes (350 words) in two directions. First, I am looking for information on relevant books published in Mexico (and elsewhere in Latin America) that may otherwise escape notice of all but regional specialists. In Mexico, for example, we can get information about books from INAH, UNAM, FCE, Siglo XXI, etc., but smaller regional presses are much more difficult to follow. If readers of the NN have information on such books, please send titles (with fill citations) along with information on where to obtain copies to me at: mesmith@csc.albany.edu. Second, Latin American Antiquity has traditionally focused on archaeology, with little ethnohistory. The journal wants to expand its coverage of book reviews to include more ethnohistory, art history, epigraphy, and other approaches to the ancient cultures of Latin America. If you know of relevant books in these fields from publishers (U.S. or other) outside of the standard Latin American archaeology presses, please send along information on these."
3. Frances Karttunen writes: "We have just returned from spring 1999 teaching at Umea, Sweden and Helsinki, Finland. We followed up last year's Intensive Nahuatl for Europeans course at the University of Helsinki with an exhibit of amate art by Cleofas Celestino Ramírez of Xalitla, Gro., and a series of workshops on art and language with Cleofas, José Antonio Flores Fárfan, and myself. This year's project was sponsored by the Helina Rautavaara ethnographic museum, the Finnish Fulbright Office, the Embassy of Mexico, the University of Helsinki, and the Helsinki University of Art and Design."
4. Alan Sandstrom announces that he has been selected by the Academia Mexicana de Ciencias to participate in the Programa de visitas de profesores distinguidos 1999-2000. He will be the guest of the Centro de Investigaciones y Estudios Superiores en Antropología Social (CIESAS) for ten days in December. He will make presentations on Nahua ritual, traditional curing practices, and ethnic identity, and consult with ethnographers and students in México D.F. and San Luis Potosí.
Alan Sandstrom also announces that he is First Vice President of the Central States Anthropological Society and program chair of the 2000 meetings of the CSAS. Following the meetings, which run from April 20-23, he will become President of the CSAS. The CSAS meets this year at Indiana University Bloomington, in conjunction with the Society for Economic Anthropology. Anyone interested in organizing a Nahua symposium should contact him before the December 10, 1999, deadline for symposium proposals (see address above, or visit http://ameranthassn.org/csas.htm). Non-members of the CSAS pay a bit more to register for the meeting ($60 vs $40; students $25 vs $15). The CSAS is very student-friendly and a good place for sponsored graduate students to read papers.
5. Dra. Teresa Rojas Rabiela writes: "Tengo mucho interés en darle a conocer algunos de los resultados que hemos obtenido en tres proyectos desarrollados en el CIESAS en los últimos años, con el fin de que, de ser de su interés, los difunda en su interesante boletín Nahua Newsletter. El primer proyecto es el que dirigimos el Dr. Mario H. Ruz y yo, con patrocinio del CIESAS y el Instituto Nacional Indigenista, titulado Historia de los pueblos indígenas de México, que a la fecha ha publicado 15 libros (de 1994 a la fecha). Le estoy enviando aquí mismo el resumen y los títulos y autores de esos libros (y por correo aéro, el folleto). El segundo proyecto se llama Archivos Agrarios, inició en 1997 y se ha propuesto publicar catálogos e índices de los fondos que posee el Archivo Agrario Nacional. Ha publicado cuatro libros y este año editará otros cinco: 1) Catecismo agrario, de Julio Cuadros Caldas; 2) Guía del Archivo General Agrario, vol. 2; 3) Guía de restitución y dotación de tierras y de reconocimiento, confirmación y titulación de bienes comunales; 4) Guía de terrenos nacionales; y 5) Estudios campesinos, vol. 2. Le envío algunos boletines que pueden ser de su interés. El tercer proyecto se relaciona con la publicación y estudio de testamentos indígenas en náhuatl y español del Archivo General de la Nación. La obra se titula Vidas y bienes olvidados, y el primer tomo está próximo a salir de la imprenta. También le envío la información resumida de dicha obra: Vidas y bienes olvidados: Testamentos indígenas novohispanos por Teresa Rojas Rabiela, Elsa Leticia Rea López y Constantino Medina Lima. Vidas y bienes olvidados es una serie dirigada por Teresa Rojas Rabiela, investigadora del CIESAS, producto de cerca de una decada de investigación, que ahora ve la luz gracias al apoyo del CIESAS y del Consejo Nacional de Ciencia y Tecnología. Esta obra pretende dar a conocer al público en general y especializado, un amplio conjunto de documentos y algunos estudios que nos permitten vislumbar nuevas perspectivas en el estudio de las vidas y los bienes de los indígenas que vivieron en la época novohispana años de profundas transformaciones.
"Los testamentos que los indígenas dictaron desde fechas tempranas del siglo XVI, poseen una amplia gama de facetas de interés para conocer lo mismo la naturaleza ya las relaciones familiares y sociales, que las condiciones materiales, la economía, ya las religiosidad de aquellas personas. Son de utilidad para el quehacer de antropólogos, lingüístas, historiadores, y demás especialistas de las disciplinas sociales que indaguen el pasado de los pueblos indígenas de México. Los primeros títulos de la serie son: 1. Testamentos en castellano del siglo XVI y en náhuatl y castellano de Ocotelulco de los siglos XVI y XVII; 2. Testamentos en náhuatl y castellano del los siglos XVI y XVII; 3. Testamentos en náhuatl y castellano del siglo XVII; 4. Testamentos en castellano del siglo XVII; 5. Indice de los testamentos de indígenas del Archivo General de la nación; 6. Estudios."
For information on obtaining these items, please contact Teresa Rojas Rabiela at Centro de Investigaciones y Estudios Superiores en Antropología Social (CIESAS), Juárez 87, Apdo. 22 048, Tlalpan 14000, México, D.F., México. The telephone number is 573-9066 or 573-2877, and the e-mail address is ciejuare@servidor.unam.mx.
6. Announcing a new publication: Antonio Escobar Ohmstede published Ciento cincuenta años de historia de la huasteca. Veracruz: Instituto Veracruzana de Cultura, 1998. ISBN 968-7824-66 6. The table of Index includes: Prólogo por Angel José Fernández; Introducción; La estructura socio-económica en las huastecas en el siglo XVIII: El Censo Militar de 1791; La insurgencia huasteca: Origen y desarrollo; Del gobierno indígena al Ayuntamiento Constitutional en las huastecas hidalguense y veracruzana, 1780-1853; La conformación y las luchas por el poder en las huastecas, 1821-1853; Los pueblos indios en las huastecas, 1750-1810: Formas para conservar y aumentar su territorio; Los condueñazgos indígenas en las huastecas hidalguense y veracruzana: ¿Defensa del espacio comunal?; Siglas y referencias.
7. Peter Tschol announces several of his publications: "Inhalt und Schema eines verlorenen Códice Matrícula de Tetzcoco nach den Lesungen Motolinía [Index and Scheme of a Lost Códice Matrícula de Tetzcoco according to the Readings in Motolinía] Memoriales (1971:§803 10) und Anales de Cuauhtitlan (1938:§1342-51)," Ibero-Amerikanishces Archiv (Berlin) 22(3/4):295-363, 1996.
"Der Pochtekenbericht in Sahagúns Historia General: Zwischen altaztekischer Wirklichkeit, Mitteilung in Tlatelolco, Sahagúnscher Redigierung und ethnohistorischer Auslegung [The report of the Pochteca in Sahagún's Historia General: Between Ancient Aztec Reality, Communication in Tlatelolco, Sahaguntine Redaction, and Ethnohistorical Interpretation]," Indiana Supplement 14. Berlin: Gebr. Mann Verlag, 1998. ISBN 3-7861-2290-3.
Both publications contain complete data lists, tables, and diagrams allowing even non readers of German a certain degree of understanding of the results and of use for their own analyses. The Pochteca book furthermore gives the titles captioning the 98 units of analysis and nearly as many subunits both in German and Spanish.
8. Gordon Brotherston has notified the NN of several recent works he has published: El Códice de Tepoztlan: Imagen de un pueblo resistente. San Francisco: Editorial Pacífica, 1999. ISBN 1 58407-140-0.
From the back cover: "Extraviado ahora fuera de México, el Códice de Tepoztlan fue producido para un proceso que llevaron este pueblo y Yauhtepec contra Hernán Cortés en el año de 1551. Es un texto precioso, por la información que proporciona sobre los antiguos habitantes de Tepoztlan y, sobre todo, por la bella y exacta imagen que da del conjunto de los subjetos que tenía, entre ellos, Amatlán, Santiago Tepetlapan, y Tlalnepantla. Sus diez glifos de lugar restituyen a estos pueblos la primera versión visual de sus nombres. Enriquece substancialmente al pequeño cuerpo de textos indígenas que provienen de Tepoztlan, que incluye las inscripciones de la pirámide además de obras en nahuatl como la epopeya de Tepoztecatl y el drama El Reto o Eecaliztli. Esta edición tiene láminas a color, un comentario detallado y comparaciones con textos del ciclo del Tepoztecatl."
Footprints Through Time: Mexican Pictorial Manuscripts at the Lilly Library, Indiana University, Bloomington, by Gordon Brotherston. Bloomington: Lilly Library, 1997. ISBN 1 879598-22-1.
From the preface: "The corpus of 16th-century Mexican maps housed in the Lilly Library of Indiana University, Bloomington, is small yet eloquent of its place and time of origin. Extending across New Spain from what is now southern Veracruz in the east to the Pacific Coast of Colima in the west, these maps serve as successive windows on to terrain and landscapes long inhabited by native peoples, showing their ways of life and thought in graphic detail. They also report on the confrontation with the European invaders who followed Hernán Cortés into Mexico, hungry for metals, pasture, wealth and power. In formal terms, they have much to teach about the interface between native and imported (European) traditions of law, literacy and cartography. Footprints Through Time reproduces and fully describes each one of these maps, ten in all, along with a curious illustrated manuscript in Nahuatl from the same collection, the Cuitlahuac Annals composed in 1864 by Faustino Galicia Chimalpopoca."
Gordon Brotherston also has edited a special issue of the Indiana Journal of Hispanic Literatures (No. 13, Fall 1998) entitled "Mexican Codices and Archaeology." The issue contains seventeen articles, many by well-known scholars, on a number of topics relating to Mesoamerican ethnohistory.
Anyone interested in obtaining copies of these works should contact Brotherston at the Department of Spanish and Portuguese, Indiana University, Bloomington, Indiana 47405 U.S.A.
9. From the University of Illinois, the editor has been notified of the the following publications of interest to NN readers:
Gillespie, Susan D. 1999. "Olmec Thrones as Ancestral Altars: The Two Sides of Power." In Material Symbols: Culture and Economy in Prehistory. John E. Robb, ed. Center for Archaeological Investigations, Occasional Paper No. 26. Southern Illinois University. ISBN 0-88104-083-5. __________, and Rosemary A. Joyce. 1998. "Deity Relationships in Mesoamerican Cosmologies: The Case of the Maya God L." Ancient Mesoamerica 9:279-96. Grove, David C. 1999. "Public Monuments and Sacred Mountains: Observations on Three Formative Period Sacred Landscapes." In Social Patterns in Pre-Classic Mesoamerica: A Symposium at Dumbarton Oaks 9 -10 October 1993. David C. Grove and Rosemary A. Joyce, eds. Washington, D.C.: Dumbarton Oaks Research Library and Collection. Pp. viii+335. ISBN 0884022528.
10. Marie-Jose Vabre writes to announce that she has completed her doctorate in Toulouse (France) on the 17th of December 1998. The director of the thesis was Monsieur le Professeur Baudot and the jury includes in addition to Professor Baudot: Dr. Jacqueline de Durand-Forest (Directrice de Recherche au CNRS-Paris), Dr. Patrick Johansson (Professor, Investigador, Instituto de Investigaciones Historicas, Universidad de Mexico-UNAM), Dr. Placer Marey-Thibon (Maitre de Conferences a la Université de Toulouse-Le Mirail II), and Dr. Rodolfo de Roux (Professeur a l Université de Toulouse-Le Mirail II).
The title of the thesis is "The Nahua Narrative Stories of History in the XVI and XVII Centuries. Cristobal del Castillo: Life and Works. Analysis of Huitzilopochtli's Description." In summary: "The thesis is a precise assessment of our knowledge about Cristobal del Castillo's biography: Was he mestizo or Indian? What was his ethnic identity? What were the prehispanic and European influences on his intellectual formation? What were the sources used by this author? The first part constitutes the elaboration of two summary tables about the chronicler's work, and illuminates the similarity of this work with other sources.
"Part Two is dedicated to the paleography of the Nahuatl text and the French translation of the first part of the work about the Mexica migration. The translation is accompanied by detailed critical commentary related to linguistic and stylistical choices made by Cristóbal del Castillo. The paleography, translation, and notes are printed on facing pages.
"Part Three undertakes the description and analysis of Huitzilopochtli, the central personage of Cristobal del Castillo's narration. The study of the 15 different names attributed to the Mexica tutelary god serves as the foundation for the overall comprehension of the divinity: Tlacatecolotl, Tetzauhteotl, Tlachiuhqui, etc. The etymology of the name of Huitzilopochtli and the tlaquimilloli are mentioned. A new interpretation of the relationship between Huitzilopochtli and Tetzauhteotl is proposed. Huitzilopochtli's theomorphosis, who becomes the Tetzauhteotl ixiptla, is interpreted as an initiatory journey. Analysis of the symbiosis of Tetzauhteotl Huitzilopochtli and of the man-god's divine transformation leads to the hypothesis that Cristobal del Castillo's narration contains a new version of the Fifth Sun myth. The identification of Tetzauhteotl's essential aspects allows us to assert that he presents characteristics of an aquatic divinity. In this narration, Huitzilopochtli appears with aquatic characteristics before his transformation into a solar and warrior god. The Nahuatl text's critical paleography is printed facing the manuscript facsimile."
11. Jonathan Amith send this information about the Nahuatl Summer Language Institute at Yale University next summer: "The Nahuatl Summer Language Institute at Yale University is part of a comprehensive project to provide learning and research tools in this language and to bring together experts in the field of Nahuatl language and culture. In addition to discussing the institute's accomplishments to date and its plans for the immediate future, this short report will hopefully encourage scholars who have worked on Nahuatl to contact the institute and perhaps participate in its development.
"One of the primary goals of the Nahuatl Institute, now in its third year, is to create a learning environment that will meet the needs of a wide range of students - including historians, art historians, anthropologists, linguists, and heritage language speakers. Thus the basic text for the course - a reference/pedagogical grammar and lexicon of the modern dialect spoken in Ameyaltepec, Guerrero - is organized to facilitate comparison with colonial Nahuatl and to provide a basic understanding of Nahuatl morphology and syntax that will be of utility to those studying any variant of Nahuatl. Besides receiving intensive instruction in modern Nahuatl (15 hours/week for 8 weeks), students have attended lectures, workshops, and one-week supplementary seminars by leading Nahuatl scholars from a variety of disciplines. For example, the first institute (Summer 1998) included an intensive eight-week course by Jonathan Amith and three one-week seminars by Michel Launey (University of Paris, VII), Una Canger (University of Copenhagen), and Karen Dakin (UNAM). The second institute was co-taught by Amith and Canger and again included a one-week seminar by Launey, probably the leading authority on Classical Nahuatl. Over these same two years, Rolena Adorno (Yale University), Louise Burkhart (SUNY, Albany), John Justeson (SUNY, Albany), Dana Leibsohn (Smith College), Mary Miller (Yale University), and Susan Schroeder (Tulane University) have offered lectures or conducted workshops.
"Given the interest shown during the first two institutes (nine students in 1998 and 13 in 1999), the third institute will offer during the summer of 2000 an intensive second-year intermediate level of instruction for a five-week period. Instruction will be provided by three leading experts in Nahuatl: Launey, James Lockhart (University of California, Los Angeles), and Luis Reyes (CIESAS, México, D.F.). The basic course, to run concurrently, will again by taught by Amith, along with Florencia Marcelino and Inocencio Jiménez, native speakers from San Agustín Oapan. Guest lectures and workshops for this introductory course will be offered by the instructors for the second level and by Louise Burkhart (SUNY, Albany), Michael Coe (Yale University), Willard Gingerich (St. John's University), John Justeson (SUNY, Albany), and Alan Sandstrom (Indiana University-Purdue University Fort Wayne).
"Another goal of the Nahuatl institute is to develop a set of research and pedagogical tools. Mark Liberman and Steven Bird of the Linguistic Data Consortium at the University of Pennsylvania have provided invaluable assistance in developing a prototype search engine for a Web-based Nahuatl lexicon of Ameyaltepec (at http://www.ldc.upenn/hyperlex) that will eventually comprise over 10,000 entries (Nahuatl to Spanish and English). It will be linked to an electronic version of the reference/pedagogical grammar in an effort to solve a major problem for instructional material in less commonly taught languages, namely how to provide the grammatical and pedagogical context for a dictionary while furnishing the appropriate lexical base for students to implement the language skills they learn through a grammar. Interactive exercises will accompany each lesson, offering the possibility of learning Nahuatl at a distance (a preliminary version of this effort can be viewed at http://www.yale.edu/nahuatl). The U.S. Department of Education, through its International Research and Studies Program, has granted two years of support to develop these materials for classroom and research use as part of a Nahuatl Learning Environment that will include a lexicon, grammar, exercises, drawings and photographs, and sound files. Additional support for the Nahuatl Summer Language Institute and the Nahuatl Learning Environment has been provided by Yale University, the Latin American Studies Consortium of New England, and the University of Chicago Center for Latin American Studies through funding from the William and Flora Hewlett Foundation and the U.S. Department of Education.
"For more information, including application materials to attend either level of instruction during the summer of 2000, please contact the coordinator of the institute at jonathan.amith@yale.edu or visit the institute Web site at http://www.yale.edu/nahuatl. Scholars who have worked on Nahuatl and wish to discuss their possible participation in future institutes or in jointly developing resource materials for research on and teaching of Nahuatl are cordially invited to contact the Nahuatl Summer Language Institute at Yale University."
Religions of Mesoamerica: Cosmovision and Ceremonial Centers. By David Carrasco. Religious Traditions of the World Series, H. Byron Earhart, ed. San Francisco: Harper Collins, 1990. Pp. xxvii+174. $12.00 (paper). ISBN 0-06 061325-4 (paper).
This work attempts to fill an important void in the area of cross-cultural theology. Its importance lies primarily in two things: first, it is part of a series edited by H. Byron Earhart called the "Religious Traditions of the World"; and second, it is an excellent summation of the general religious beliefs and practices associated with the Mesoamerican culture area. However, just as every rose has its thorns, so, too, does this volume have its failures. In fact, I believe that it is ironic that the volume basically falls prey to the very same critique that underlies its main objective - that is, to clarify and correct the European "inventions and fantasies" (p. 2) about the religions of Mesoamerica.
Carrasco's volume in this series is meant to be "introductory, providing interested readers with an overall interpretation of religious traditions without presupposing prior knowledge" (p. ix). The goal of the series itself is to present individual religious traditions in a common format that describes each distinctive tradition in terms of the same unified model thus allowing for cross-cultural comparison (p. ix). Nomothetic studies such as these are essential for the eventual development of a science of religion as well as a clearer understanding of some of the important points of comparison in the field of cross-cultural theology.
The contribution by Carrasco aims to enlighten the general reader about the great religious traditions of ancient Mesoamerica. The subtitle of Carrasco's book ("Cosmovision and Ceremonial Centers") holds the key to the volume. As Carrasco explains: "The controlling idea for the entire study is that the ceremonial precincts of Mesoamerica were the centers and theaters for the acting out of religious and social life" (p. xviii). In addition, Carrasco elucidates Mesoamerican religions using cosmovision as a critical concept. He defines "cosmovision" as "the ways in which Mesoamericans combined their cosmological notions relating to time and space into a structured and systematic world view" (p. xix, emphasis in original).
Carrasco dramatically opens his book by describing an ironic incident that occurred in 1510 when a Spanish reconnaissance expedition from Cuba encountered a few Maya Indians on a beach. When the Spanish sailors called out, "What is this place called?" the surprised Maya natives replied with a reasonable response under the circumstances: "Uic athan,"or, according to Carrasco, "We don't understand your language." The Spaniards heard this response as "Yucatán," the name they then applied to the region (p. 1). And so began 400 long years of miscommunication, misappropriation, and misrepresentation between the Europeans and inhabitants of the New World.
It is Carrasco's stated goal to correct this situation. However, this incident of initial contact described by Carrasco is itself something of a misrepresentation. Carrasco cites as the source for this story The Conquest of America by Tzvetan Todorov (1982:4). The problems here are: first, Todorov is a secondary source and he doesn't cite any original source for this incident; second, the story is not found on p. 4 of Todorov's book as Carrasco indicates but on pp. 98-99; and third, Carrasco actually misquotes the original Maya text. As described by Todorov (1982:99), the Maya Indians replied "Ma c'ubah than" to the Spanish inquiry, and not "Uic athan" as stated by Carrasco. Opening his treatise with such poorly researched information and then misquoting it serves to exacerbate rather than correct misconceptions about the native people of the New World. It also causes the reader to lose confidence in the scholarship behind the entire work.
The remainder of Chapter One is a review of the various stereotypes, imaginative inventions, and fantasies that Europeans concocted to describe the people and places of the New World. From the Eternal Fountain of Youth to the fabled Seven Enchanted Cities of Gold, El Dorado, the Garden of Eden, and the Fabulous Buried Treasures of Aztec Emperors, the European dreams and myths of many centuries past came to rest on the unknown shores of this "brave new world," as William Shakespeare called the newly discovered continent in The Tempest (Act 5, Scene 1).
Generally, Europeans saw in the native peoples of the New World either the "Noble Savage" of Jean Jacques Rousseau, or what Thomas Hobbes called the "Wild Men of Nature." From the original discovery of the New World in 1492 until 1550, European scholars, intellectuals and theologians debated what to do about the native cultures of North and South America. Finally, the Holy Roman Emperor Carlos V convened a Great Council at Valladolid in 1550 to consider the issue. However, as Europeans debated the issue in the comfort of the Royal Library, peoples of the New World cultures were enslaved, oppressed, and eliminated in the most cruel and inhumane fashion. Despite edicts from Queen Isabella, and Royal Edicts and Laws issued by the Spanish Crown in 1530 and 1542, or even a holy Papal Bull by Pope Paul III in 1537, the mistreatment of the Indians continued. The Great Council of 1550 officially closed the issue by declaring the New World inhabitants to be true men and thus deserving of humane treatment. While this may have formally ended the philosophical debate, it did not stop the brutal and dehumanizing cruelty associated with the colonial period.
Chapter One also outlines the basic theoretical approach that Carrasco hopes to adopt in his treatment of the religions of Mesoamerica. Brushing aside other approaches such as the cultural materialism of anthropologist Marvin Harris, Carrasco prefers to develop his own idiosyncratic approach, which he calls the "ensemble approach." This approach admits evidence from four separate sources: first, archaeological excavations; second, literary testimony (European eye-witness accounts); third, pictorial manuscripts (native accounts); and fourth, contemporary ethnographic fieldwork reports.
While the approach may seem eminently reasonable, it is a point of wonder to this reviewer that the author sacrifices the powerful explanatory model of Marvin Harris' cultural materialism for the eclectic, non-explanatory strategy represented by the ensemble approach. Carrasco's phenomenological explanations obfuscate rather than clarify such issues as the cause of the widespread Mesoamerican practice of human sacrifice. The opening chapter also introduces Carrasco's characterization of Mesoamerican religions as being basically concerned with three themes: world making, world centering, and world renewing.
Chapter Two introduces the reader to some of the theological beliefs and ritual practices associated with the Mesoamerican religious pattern. The chapter also gives a succinct historical overview of their development and regional diversity. Mesoamerican ritual practices and ideas such as the sacred ball game, the plumed serpent, the royal jaguar, and cosmic conflagration are presented and discussed. Chapter Three also focuses upon the career of the legendary historical mythological culture hero known as Topiltzin Quetzalcoatl, the quintessential Mesoamerican holy man. Through his discussion of Topiltzin's career, the reader is introduced to various essential theological ideas in the Mesoamerican cosmovision. Various myths, rituals, and sacred ceremonial precincts are discussed in order to illuminate Aztec religious concepts and general Mesoamerican world view. Carrasco ends this chapter by making reference to the Mesoamerican idea that the ideal person is well spoken, eloquent, and fluent in various poetic styles of expression. Like the ancient Greeks, Mesoamericans adored flowery speeches and elaborate public oratory.
Chapter Two concludes with an extensive consideration of the controversial subject of human sacrifice in Mesoamerica. Carrasco focuses his discussion upon two spectacular sacrificial rites; the New Fire ceremony; and the Toxcatl or major festival in honor of the Lord of the Smoking Mirror, Tezcatlipoca. These remarkable ceremonies are described in great detail. We are told that Aztec priests started fires on the chests of living victims in the middle of the night, while other volunteers offered their blood by puncturing their tongues, ears, and flesh. Everyday, high atop the pyramids, human hearts were ripped from victims' living bodies by priests awash in dirt and filth. The corpses were then thrown down the steps of the pyramid and eaten by the congregation gathered below.
According to Carrasco, Mesoamerican religions were rife with incidents of cannibalism, live flaying, decapitation, and hideous tortures. All these activities were carried out in the name of religious worship. Aztec philosophy and religion, it seems, was perverse in relation to most other great religious traditions of the world. To the average reader, Aztec religion would seem to consist of extraordinarily cruel rituals that lacked any universal elevating principles.
By way of explaining Aztec religious cruelty, Carrasco concludes that what we are seeing here is "the Aztec conception of the perfect life and ideal death of the warrior displayed... in public" (p. 91). It was at this point that this reviewer wondered why Carrasco chose his so-called "ensemble approach" over Marvin Harris' cultural materialism. Carrasco simply brushes aside any hope of explanation and offers us a phenomenological description in its place. Simply put, "They did this because it was part of their culture." In fact, Carrasco creates a picture of Aztec culture that leaves the average reader wondering about the weird customs of these strange members of the human race. How could such behavior be explained or made understandable? If we follow Carrasco we are no better off than the 16th-century debaters who tried to explain New World natives as either noble savages or cruel wild men. Carrasco would have us believe that human sacrifice was the result of a cosmovision gone mad, idealizing cruelty and unspeakable savagery. In other words, Carrasco's explanation reaffirms the view that he condemns in the Spanish conquistadores and royal theologians of the 16th century.
One benefit of cultural materialism (and one that Carrasco consistently overlooks) is that it can provide explanations for human behavior that do not depend on ethnocentric and condescending concepts such as the noble savage, or wild men of nature, or even the emic rationalizations of the Aztecs themselves. After reading Carrasco, there can only be one explanation for the religious cruelty of Aztec human sacrifice and that is that it was perpetrated by savages who are isolated from the moral concerns of other human beings.
In Chapter Four, Carrasco turns from the Aztec religion of the central plateau to that of the Maya of southern Mexico. As opposed to the Aztec focus upon the "cult of the warrior," the Maya focused their religious tradition on the "blood of kings." Maya religion centered around the careers of royal rulers and their family lineages. The concept of the "flowering sacred tree of life" also provided a cultural focus for Maya religious tradition. More centered on agriculture than warfare, the Maya had their own expression of the meaning of life. And this meaning was based upon the importance of the sacred ball game, the underworld or Xibalba, and the controlling influence of time as expressed in the sacred and secular calendric cycles.
The last chapter attempts to summarize the continuities, innovations, and imaginative religious responses utilized by various native cultures to deal with Spanish colonial rule. The Spanish overlords outlawed most of the traditional beliefs, foods, behaviors, and rituals of the native population. The emergence of mestizo cultures and religious syncretism produced both the folk and urban fabric of modern Mexican life. Various contemporary ethnographic examples of these pre-Hispanic themes and rituals are described: the Huichol peyote hunt, a Tlaxcalan Day of the Dead, and the national patriotic cults of the Virgin of Guadalupe or Santiago. One can say that in the end, the Aztecs eventually won. Their culture survived, rebounded, and adjusted to the colonial world of cultural oppression to produce some of modern Mexico's most fascinating conceptions, beliefs and rituals.
Too often examinations of the great world's religions downplay, or even ignore, the great religious traditions of the New World. General surveys of the world's religions often fail to mention the New World or do so as an afterthought in an appendix. I feel this is partially the fault of the New World scholars themselves. They seem to live in the pre-Columbian hermetically sealed cocoon that enveloped the subject of their concerns. Taboo is the question of comparative interregional influence or transoceanic contact. A vacuum - then and now - separates the New World from the rest of the world, first by oceanic waters and now by intellectual bias. Sometimes the cited reason is the archaeological nature of the data used to reconstruct the great religions of the New World. But this objection can be brushed aside by noting that the same is true about our understanding of the religions of ancient Egypt, Babylon, Sumer and, for that matter, even early Christianity. As ways were devised to overcome this problem in the Old World, so, too, can they be applied to the great religions of Mesoamerica. Despite its flaws, Carrasco's book is an admirable example of the attempt to bring the religions of Mesoamerica to the attention of international scholars and theologians.
One of the reasons that New World intellectual achievements are given short shrift is that the scholarship on these issues has been regionally limited. A second reason is that the presentation of New World religions has been hampered by the esoteric and idiosyncratic linguistic terminology used by the experts and scholars who work in this area. Much like the Dead Sea Scrolls, the major scholars in this area have failed to be nomothetic in their perspective and thus have become, like the Biblical scholars mentioned above, functionally autonomous with regard to their findings. Researchers in Mesoamerica do not speak with researchers from South America and neither talks to anyone interested in research in the North American culture areas. And few attempt to bring their research to the world forum of great religious traditions. Scholars working in isolation rarely see the forest for the trees. That is why this series and this volume are important.
The book contains an excellent "Chronology of Mesoamerican Religions" (pp. xxi-xxvii) that will be useful to all interested in Mesoamerican early history. The glossary is also very useful, although some of the definitions in the glossary differ from those given in the book (e.g., compare "cosmovision" defined on p. xix and p. 166). Some concepts are defined in the text but not included in the glossary (e.g., Mesoamerica), or appear extensively in the text but only defined in the glossary (e.g., compare "syncretism" on p. xx and p. 169). An Index would be most helpful for the average reader attempting to keep a clear picture of the names and places described in the text. Also, the book should contain more maps of Mesoamerica, especially in a volume that claims place and space as important to an understanding of Mesoamerican religion.
Another shortcoming alluded to earlier is the lack of adequate citations for statements that are still considered open to alternative explanation (for example, see p. 100) or points that are considered contestable or in need of further substantiation (pp. 10, 11, 14, 28, 29). Also, the confusing etymologies of Nahuatl and Maya words could be made easier and more useful with a pronunciation guide in the glossary. It is also confusing to the average reader to use an unusual dating scheme such as B.C.E. and C.E. without elaborating upon the importance of its relationship to most other dating schemes used by other professionals in this area of research. This practice serves only to confuse rather than clarify the events described in the text.
Scholars working in isolation are perhaps better than no scholars working at all but both are less desirable than those scholars who aim to broadcast their findings and have them included in the world bank of information on the achievements of the peoples of the globe. Each culture must be seen as part of the world community of cultures and not as an aberrant concoction of weird and savage customs practiced by a benighted, superstitious people who seem to be held captive by their demonic, calendar-obsessed, blood-thirsty and cannibalistic priest-kings.
Historically, the New World became in the eyes of European scholars an incomprehensible backwater of weird customs, bizarre ideas, and cruel cultures. Subsequent scholarship by people like Marvin Harris managed to rectify much of this ethnocentrism. It is ironic that Carrasco's attempt to bring the religious traditions of Mesoamerica to the serious consideration of the modern world suffers from the fact that it makes Mesoamerican religions seem like exotic expressions of a strange cosmovision that used religion to lead people to moral squalor rather than moral grandeur like the other great world religions. This situation has been at the core of the interface between the cultures of the Old World and those of the New World since their first meeting.
Unlike Carrasco, whose undocumented story at the book's opening reports irony in the initial contact between Spanish sailors and Maya natives, I would highlight the more significant moment that occurred much earlier with the arrival of Christopher Columbus in the New World. After walking ashore in 1492 and planting the royal standard of his Spanish patron, Christopher Columbus did not ask the locals for directions but rather proclaimed in Spanish, "In the name of God and Her Majesty Queen Isabella, I take possession of these lands." Quite a greeting to the native folks already on shore, but it embodied the philosophy that would underlie all future interactions. Because the native audience did not speak Spanish, the importance of the occasion was probably lost on them. Not for long, however, for within a few generations most of the Mesoamerican Indians were dead due to wounds, germs, or mistreatment. Those that remained excelled in adapting to what must have seemed to them to be a world gone mad. Their gods had deserted them, their rulers were dead, and their way of life condemned as backward, primitive, and benighted. While Carrasco attempts to explain their world, he offers no insight as to why they developed their particular cosmovision nor what elevated aspects it had to contribute to a comprehensive picture of cross-cultural religious traditions.
Paul Jean Provost
Indiana University-Purdue University Fort Wayne
According to the Preface (p. 11), this fine anthology of Aztec short stories translated directly from Nahuatl into Dutch is the companion volume to an earlier book on Aztec poetry called Zegevierend met de zon [Victorious with the Sun] (Prometheus, 1994). Rudolf van Zantwijk is Professor of Anthropology at Utrecht University, specializing in the field of the Indian peoples of Latin America. He not only translated the stories, but also wrote short introductions to each story interspersed with reflections on Aztec culture, religion, and literature in general. Thus, the book is aimed at a broad audience of readers who are interested in the Aztecs, their world view and customs, and their highly original literature, or intended for those who have a general interest in world literature.
The almost forty stories are generally a good read and often highly entertaining. This is of course a compliment to the translator, who caught the mood of the stories well in modern Dutch (although some terms and expressions seemed somewhat archaic). In the introduction to the stories, van Zantwijk often makes critical remarks on other secondary literature regarding Aztec storytelling, culture, or religion. A few times he actually corrects other Dutch translations of the same story, pointing out mistranslations and erroneous interpretations. Hence, De zon en de arend has a remarkably long references-cited section for a commercial edition.
The volume has a very clear structure, consisting of seven main sections: creation myths and divinities, sorcerers, heroic legends, tales of the past, erotic stories, fables and fairy tales, and stories of nostalgia and nativism. Each section contains four to eight tales. The oldest are precolonial, supposedly going back as far as the 10th century, but there are also a few modern stories. These are of course much easier to read; see, for instance, "De Honingvogels [The Honey Birds]," pp. 138-41). But the modern stories lack the idiosyncratic Aztec world view that holds a romantic fascination for many readers. Van Zantwijk occasionally appears a bit the romantic himself, making no secret of his vast knowledge of and great admiration for ancient Germanic, Celtic, and Norse legends. The Edda especially is mentioned repeatedly. Van Zantwijk's erudition enables him to point out the similar themes and even situations among geographically far-removed ancient peoples.
I am no expert on Aztec history or culture. Frankly, the first association that came to mind was reading as an undergraduate student Marvin Harris' catchy phrase, "Aztec cannibalism was the highest form of communion for the eaters but not the eaten" (Cultural Materialism, 1979). However, De zon en de arend opened my mind to a whole new assessment of Aztec culture. Some of the stories are quite bizarre both in the names of the main characters and in the events described, which could make great New York Post headlines: Seven-Colored Horse Saves Woman from Blood-Sucking Frog (pp. 87-88), or Witch Girl Steals Young Man's Penis (pp. 206-207). Van Zantwijk does a good job explaining names, religious practices, complex symbols, and the ever-present Aztec calendar. Still this reader felt there were always many meanings that escaped him or simply left him in the frustrating feeling of scratching only the surface of the stories.
I will exercise restraint by quoting from only one story, the seventh in the sorcerers' section, called "The Wrath of Huitzilopochtli." Like a classic origin myth, the story chronicles the migration of the Aztecs from Aztlan to the Valley of "Mexihco." During the trek, Huitzilopochtli changes their name from "Aztecah" into "Mexitin." The deity indicates where they should erect the twin cities of Mexihco-Tenochtitlan and Mexhico-Tlatelolco. Then he gives them bows and arrows, and nets to catch birds. Huitzilopochtli then instructs the Aztec sovereign Chalchiuhtlatonac (Shining Jade) on the selection of the leaders of temples and soldiers: "But they should be the bravest and strongest of the Mexitin! May it come to pass like this, for more than anyone they shall have countless many subjects. After all, that is why we march ahead! We are going to settle us, we are going to occupy lands, and we are going to subjugate the subjects who are living in the great big world.... I am not going to send you to any particular place, for you will be sovereigns and princes in all regions, all over the whole wide world" (pp. 102-103, translation mine). Another story I particularly liked was called "Tamacazti" ("Counselor," pp. 237-51), which has a fascinating riddle contest with a macabre ending.
This fine and entertaining volume deserves a big reading public in the Netherlands and Belgium. It should appeal especially to specialists and students on ancient literature, mythology, history, sociology, anthropology, and the Indian peoples of the Americas.
Henri Gooren
Utrecht University and Netherlands Organization for Scientific
Research (NWO)
Picture yourself in Teotihuacan. You are walking north on the Street of the Dead. You pass the Ciudadela on your right; it's so massive, it could swallow several Maya ceremonial centers. You cross the vestigial "Río de San Juan" while trying to imagine the substantial watercourse that cuts through the ancient city like a vast glittering serpent. Pyramid of the Sun beside you, and ahead, the Pyramid of the Moon and Cerro Gordo - together they form an impressive triad. Instinctively, you assume they appear in order of size, and expect that the larger pyramid will be at the honored position at the end of the Street. Anticipating that expectation, Teotihuacan's planners have used it to disconcert you, to warp your sense of space and proportion a little. By placing the relatively smaller Pyramid of the Moon against the mountain backdrop, the mountain is pulled forward, nature overshadowing human efforts. Across two millennia, the designers of Teotihuacan have once again achieved their effect, made you blink. Good ceremonial architecture should make you wonder about the scale and place of humans in the cosmos, and, like the architects of Gothic cathedrals, Teotihuacan's planners put humans into proper perspective.
But who were the designers? Who organized the city and ruled over it, and how? Esther Pasztory's book Teotihuacan: An Experiment in Living explores these puzzles of culture and social organization. Pasztory sees Teotihuacan as a grand experiment, unique in the history of Mesoamerican complex society: "Teotihuacan seems to have emerged in contrast to dynastic and aristocratic cultures, such as the Olmec and the Maya, and to have created and idealized more participatory institutions than were common at the time" (p. 13). To determine the nature of Teotihuacan social organization, Pasztory uses the material evidence - architecture and artifacts - and the interpretations of other Teotihuacan scholar - art historians, archaeologists, iconographers - and combines these lines of evidence into an analysis that calls upon her own particular insights and skills. She writes, "This analysis... is too heavily anthropological to be art history and too obsessed with artistic readings to be anthropology" (p. 14), but in fact it is both art history and anthropology, and much more besides. Pasztory develops rapport with the reader by delivering solid scholarship along with apt personal revelations and thought-provoking cross cultural comparisons. Thus the book works well as a general survey of present-day knowledge about the site and its culture, suitable for undergraduate and graduate courses, but also would engage the general reader as a scholarly detective story shaped by the author's vivid personal experiences and opinions.
The book is organized into fifteen chapters that take up general topics of history of interpretation, the great monuments at the site, unique aspects of Teotihuacan's iconography, and Pasztory's interpretations. Pasztory begins with her beginnings - her experiences as a refugee from Hungarian political turmoil, finding her place as an art history student in America, and coming to Mexico in 1967 in search of a thesis topic. The circumstances of her life had made her a cultural outsider, a role that lends observational acuity to cultural analysis. It seems also to have liberated her from the constraints of scholarly cliquishness, because she sought and continues to seek the perspectives and findings of many different scholars working on Teotihuacan problems. Her visit to René and Clara Millon introduced her to the scholars on the cutting edge of Teotihuacan archaeological research, who were shoe horning the site out of its "vacant ceremonial center" status into its distinguished role of great metropolis of its time. But she also visited Laurette Séjourné, famous for her early excavations of Teotihuacan apartment complexes but dismissed because of her lack of intellectual rigor and her belief in the power of intuition to explain art as welling out of the collective unconscious. Such mentalist views eventually lose their charm because, while one can value the subjective sincerity of the mentalist, one cannot assess the validity of the opinion. But the fact remains that subjective insights may have enormous generalizing power. For example, Séjourné admired Covarrubias, who used his creative genius and aesthetic sense (and familiarity with cultural materials) to perceive the proper role of the Olmec at a time when professional scholars argued for primacy of the Maya. Pasztory's willingness to seek out Séjourné, to acknowledge the contribution of her work, reveals a key element of her life as a scholar: the primacy of the intellectual puzzle over any current fashion in scholarly interpretation.
The second chapter presents a review of how Teotihuacan has been perceived and investigated from the Aztec period to the present. Here we find the historical roots of what has passed for years as knowledge about the site, largely seen through "Tlaloc goggles." Pasztory surveys the history of recognition and decipherment of characteristic Teotihuacan elements such as goggle-wearing figures, feathered serpents, and talud-tablero architecture, and shows how research at other sites has influenced assessment of Teotihuacan's role. Pasztory's own years of research into the nature of the Teotihuacan's goggle-eyed figure, "now called the Storm God at Teotihuacan, because his actual name there remains unknown" (p. 27), leads her to conclude that while "the art and culture of the Aztecs provides an essential sounding board in the reconstruction of Teotihuacan" (p. 28), "Teotihuacan imagery cannot be identified directly from Aztec sources." (p. 27)
Chapter Three continues to survey the history of interpretation of Teotihuacan, presenting an engaging view of the "New Archaeology and the State." The "New Archaeology" is now old and hoary, the revolutionary program of scholars presently easing into retirement. However, the revolution was won. Archaeology was transformed from a pursuit of pretty things and big monumental buildings, to a true study of ancient culture, paleoethnography, and paleohistory. Yes, there are many archaeological projects ongoing today that are quests for golden doodads (and the glory that devolves upon golden-doodad-finders), but no well-educated United States archaeologist ignores the larger cultural context of the investigation, the cultural processes motivating the behavioral snapshots we chance to find. Pasztory manages to include many of the most salient features of the "New Archaeology" - systematization of research, reliance on patterns of material culture remains rather than official chronicles, understanding the larger settlement pattern, study of quotidian materials - and Teotihuacan is an ideal example of the application of New Archaeological principles. The work of René Millon and colleagues in mapping and investigating the city itself, and William Sanders and colleagues in mapping and studying the larger Basin of Mexico was truly revolutionary in transforming our understanding of site and region. From these efforts there emerged a new perspective on Teotihuacan's enormous size, and how it came to be: harnessing the irrigation capabilities of the springs gave the town's semiarid hinterland the capacity to support large numbers of people. When, coincidentally, Teotihuacan's greatest rival in the Terminal Formative period, Cuicuilco, was buried by eruption from Xitle, Teotihuacan drew the population of the basin into itself.
Pasztory turns to monumental architecture in Chapter Four, first looking at the "apartment compounds." Two thousand of these have been identified in the city, and their form is unique in Mesoamerica. This, Pasztory believes, is related to what may have been a unique relation in the city between the rulers and the ruled, a collectivization of the population. Pasztory draws upon long hours spent in the apartment compounds while she was doing dissertation research; during those days she noted the special features of the domestic architecture and the mural fragments, coming to know the apartment compounds as "not merely livable, many were splendid" (p. 47). This perspective enable her to see the organization of the city as possibly engaging the headmen of these compounds into a "corporate social organization with a collective ideology" (p. 50), an idea congruent with the lack of representations of individual rulers and elites, the presence of an important female deity, and widespread use of types of art that were assembled from mass produced pieces (such as theater-style incense burners).
The challenges of interpretation and correct use of analogous sources such as Mixtec codices and other iconographically rich materials are the subjects of Chapter 5, "Mixed Messages: The Challenge of Interpretation." Here Pasztory contrasts her approach with Seler's, citing her use of structural and semiotic analyses. Her "structuralism" attempts to identify the system from which images arise, an approach she likens to processual archaeology. I applaud the approach, but caution that to use the term "structuralism" is to risk association with a long and tainted tradition of flaky methodology and unfounded claims of meaning.
One of the most important issues in Teotihuacan studies is the presence of a major female deity, a rarity in Mesoamerican ceremonial centers. Chapter 6, "The Pyramid of the Sun and the Goddess," begins by describing the relation between the goddess, the architectural monument, and the cave beneath it, and then expands the field of spiritual power and the landscape to the whole Basin of Mexico, with an extensive and well-documented reconstruction of the destruction of Cuicuilco and its effect on Teotihuacan. Pasztory writes that Teotihuacan emerged as "a symbolic 'fortress' against the unpredictable powers of nature" and its huge size, density, and ceremonial display were made possible by the cooperation of countless refugees with Teotihuacan's rulers in the building effort.
The possible relation between the Pyramid of the Moon and the Storm God is explored in Chapter 7. Storm God imagery was an important export, a diagnostic of Teotihuacan contact when found in Tikal or other sites. Comparing characteristics of the Storm God and the Goddess profiled in Chapter 6, Pasztory contrasts the Storm God's association with foreign relations, commerce, dynastic values, etc., with the Goddess's association with internal affairs, agriculture, and collective values.
Turning to Teotihuacan's third great monument, Pasztory's focus is "The Ciudadela and Rulership" in Chapter 8. The great square enclosure and its pyramid and apartments were built after the pyramids, and Pasztory suggests that the Ciudadela is an "architectural representation of a major change in the social and political structure of Teotihuacan" away from the pyramids, probably by self-aggrandizing dynasts whose "flamboyant style of rulership" (multiple sacrifices to dedicate their building projects) provoked a reaction against such flashy shows of dynastic power.
With the social and iconographic meaning of major architectonic elements interpreted, the focus turns to aesthetics, artifacts, and features in Chapters 9 through 14. "Minimalist Aesthetics" points out the simplicity of the city's massive architecture and the overall emphasis on simple forms in domestic goods like pottery. Chapter 10 is named "Assemblage," a somewhat confusing term because of its archaeological meaning as a set of artifacts (tools, for example) associated with a particular set of tasks. But here the sense is of the assemblage of iconographic elements that together make up a meaningful whole, with the "theater censer" being the ultimate example of a coherent mosaic. Mural art, arguably one of Teotihuacan's great achievements, is discussed in "The Net-Jaguar and Other Two-Dimensional Puzzles," which considers the city's high potential for murals given its expanses of vertical wall space, and how these spaces were used to display decorative expositions of natural and surreal themes. Among the most intriguing of the component elements are "The Human Body in Parts" (Chapter 12). Pasztory points out that "The art of Teotihuacan has more representations of hearts than that of any other Mesoamerican culture - even the Aztecs" (p. 199). The role of sacrifice at Teotihuacan and elsewhere is explored in this chapter.
"Divine Intervention" (Chapter 13) deconstructs the meanings of water and eye symbols and other shared features of Teotihuacan's iconographic presentations, noting that "The gods themselves are not individual but incorporate elements of each other in their being and insignia" (p. 219). "The Human Element" (Chapter 14) in Teotihuacan's art is also resistant to facile interpretations, but through the people shown in Teotihuacan's graphic and plastic art we come closer to the Teotihuacanos themselves. Finally, Chapter 15, "An Experiment in Living," recapitulates major themes to support the idea that the city functioned as a collective body, an experiment in collective government unlike any of the dynastic states rising across Mesoamerica in the Terminal Formative period. Teotihuacan's differences with its contemporaries make it more difficult to understand its iconography and the basis of its power. But Pasztory's well documented and artfully reasoned book will go far toward enhancing our understanding of this great enigmatic city.
Susan Toby Evans
Pennsylvania State University
La mujer azteca constituye el ineludible compromiso de tratar de perfilar la condición femenina en la sociedad mexica precortesiana. Pese a las carencias documentales, la autora consigue rastrear y reconstruir los diversos patrones de vida de las mujeres tenochcas, partiendo de un análisis que integra variables tan complejas como las relaciones de clase y tratado de vincular la opresión femenina con la configuración de la estructura de clases.
El tercer capítulo trata de establecer el progresivo desarrollo de la asimetría genérica y social a lo largo de la evolución del imperialismo azteca. La acelerada conformación de sectores sociales bien delimitados dibujan, poco a poco, una jeraquía poblacional en cuya cúspide se sitúa una élite noble cada vez más poderosa. Todo ello conduce a la autora a enfatizar la obligatoriedad de un análisis que defina a las mujeres tenochcas en su contexto de clase. Los subsecuentes capítulos no abandonarán ya este enfoque y todo el universo de datos que presenta a continuacción aparecen segregados estructuralmente. A título personal, es precisamente esto lo que me parece más destacable del libro. Consigue que hasta el lector más neófito en temas de género descubra - casi por aparente mérito propio - el hecho de que, pese a la paradoja del título, no se puede hablar en singular de la mujer azteca sino en un vasto y obvío plural sobre "las mujeres aztecas." La heterogeneidad interna de esa categoría hace difícil aglutinarlas bajo un sólo concepto. El nexo de unión entre las distinctas realidades es única y lamentablemente la subordinación. Incluso en este sentido, la instigación a una óptica microanalítica y comparativa permite dilucidar la diversidad de matices y gradaciones de dicha subordinación.
Los capítulos cuarto y quinto pretenden mostrar la posición y significación de las mujeres en el ámbito productivo y reproductivo. En base a la información presentada, la autora cimenta el origen de la opresión femenina en la división sexual del trabajo. La exclusión de las mujeres de cualquier posición ocupacional de prestigio - relegándola a un espacio doméstico regido por la ginopia - posibilitan el control de su fuerza de trabajo y de su capacidad reproductiva, biológica y culturalmente hablando. No en vano, se insiste en el papel de la familia como agente primordial de socialización y reproducción del sistema de desigualdades.
El capítulo sexto resulta aún más ambicioso. Una vez configurado el perfil clasista y sexista de la sociedad mexica se elaboran una serie de inferencias sobre las mujeres y su sexualidad. La divergencia genérica y de clases sociales en cuanto a normas matrimoniales, cuerpos legales de sanciones, derechos y obligaciones (por ejemplo, el acceso al divorcio o el castigo por adulterio), permiten trazar las líneas definitorias que rigen la conducta sexual matrimonial y extramatrimonial, la poligina, la prostitución, la homosexualidad, el travestismo o las prácticas abortivas. A partir de las prescripciones en cuanto a la expresión y normatividad en relación a la sexualidad femenina en sí se deducen patrones de maltrato y violencia sexual levemente tratados por las fuentes.
El séptimo y último capítulo se centra en torno a las instituciones y los mecanismos de dominación ideológica, es decir, el modo en que el sistema de creencias - generado culturalmente por la sociedad mexica - está encaminado a la legitimación de "las relaciones de explotación... de los nobles sobre los tributarios y la que ejercían los hombres sobre las mujeres" (p. 228-29).
Tras este breve resumen de contenidos y, a modo de conclusión, me gustaría añadir que comparto muchas de las prerrogativas que han incitado a la autora a escribir este libro. Incluso su forma crítica de tratae las fuentes, considerando por quién y para quién son escritas. Pese a ello, muchos de los interrogantes planteados al comienzo son, a mi modo de ver, incontestables. Si la subordinación femenina en México comenzó con los españoles o en época prehispánica estaría directamente relacionado con esos macrodebates de la disiplina en torno a los "universales" que antes tratamos brevemente. Ahora bien, si la condición femenina del pasado prehispánico puede explicar la situación actual resulta mucho más escabroso. Pese a lo recurrido de esta técnica en Mesoamérica, no considero que sea posible trazar una liga automática entre la situación del México prehispanico y el actual. Por supuesto que el pasado debe ayudarnos a entender el presente pero, ¿por qué no todo el pasado? Desde esa perspectiva sería necesaria una historia procesual que reivindicase por igual la importancia de etapas históricas anteriores con quizá idéntica validez explicativa. Es casi titánico hablar de las mujeres indígenas nahuas actuales remontándonos exclusivamente a los datos disponibles sobre ellas cinco siglos atrás. Más aún, ¿me pregunto si puede hablarse de las mujeres nahuas contemporáneas en términos globales y homogéneos cuando están habitando áreas geográfico-culturales tan diversias?
Si apuesto por un análisis de la condición social de la mujer desde una óptica que articule la perspectiva étnica, de género y de clase, e incluso generacional como parece proponer la autora. Mi única objeción es que se haga exclusivamente con un pasado glorioso para unos o, como se puede apreciar en este libro, complejo e injusto para otros.
Cristina Lirón
Universidad de las Américas-Puebla
Following is a review by Jonathan D. Amith of the second edition of Frances Karttunen's An Analytical Dictionary of Nahuatl. The review was first published in Spanish and appears here for the first time in its original English version. Following the review is a response from Karttunen and a brief reply to Karttunen's response by Amith.
An Analytical Dictionary of Nahuatl. By Frances Karttunen. 2d ed. Norman: University of Oklahoma Press, 1992. Pp. xxxiv + 349. $21.95 (paper). ISBN 0806124210 (paper).
Introduction
The present edition of An Analytical Dictionary of Nahuatl (hence ADN) is a welcome and much-needed paperback edition of Frances Karttunen's (FK) 1983 work published in cloth by the University of Texas Press. Since then important English-language lexical studies have been produced by John Bierhorst (1985; 1992), R. Joe Campbell (1985), and Lyle Campbell (1985). Yet ADN's scope (multiple dialects covering a wide geographical area and temporal span), accessibility (both in terms of user-friendliness and price), and focused goal (to provide comparative information on vowel length and glottal stops, and to offer English glosses for beginning Nahuatl scholars unfamiliar with Spanish) make it a unique work. For good reason it will continue to provide scholars and fieldworkers with a quick-reference compendium on vowel length and glottal stops. Moreover, given University of Oklahoma Press's inexpensive paperback edition, it is destined to become one of the most popular lexicographic tools for introductory college-level Nahuatl classes in the United States and Europe.
It is precisely the impact that ADN has had and will continue to have that makes a careful review necessary. In many respects, FK's meticulous lexicographic research is beyond reproach. For most entries she provides the reader with a careful listing of sources and a clear exposition of discrepancies in vowel length and glottal stop placement (cf. tlaÿxtli tlaneltoquiliztli, xillÿntli, and zohzoquihuiÿ). Her primary historical sources on these phenomena are Horacio Carochi's Arte de la lengua mexicana con la declaración de los adverbios della (originally published in 1645) and a colonial manuscript found in the Bancroft Library. The principal modern sources are Forrest Brewer and Jean G. Brewer's Vocabulario de Tetelcingo, Morelos (1971), and Harold Key and Mary Ritchie de Key Vocabulario de la Sierra de Zacapoaxtla, Puebla (1953). Many of the definitions are taken from Molina (originally published in 1571), even when information on vowel length and glottal stop placement is from another source. FK was obviously very careful in organizing her database, and often points out discrepancies between the Spanish-Nahuatl and Nahuatl-Spanish sides of her sources (cf. tlalcÿhuÿlli). Yet, despite her care with the Nahuatl source material, there are serious problems with ADN. These may be classified under three rubrics: 1) the structure of ADN and, particularly, the concept of canonical form; 2) standardization of vowel length and glottal stop placement; and 3) English glosses.
The structure of An Analytical Dictionary of Nahuatl
FK has selected an orthography that represents a combination of historical and modern styles; it most closely follows the script used by J. Richard Andrews in his Introduction to Classical Nahuatl (1975). She fully discusses the implications of her choice; though it has certain drawbacks (cf. Canger 1986) FK presents a satisfactory defense of her selection.
A macron, which does not affect alphabetization, is used to represent vowel length, whereas an h, which does affect alphabetization, is used to represent a glottal stop. The advantage of using h, as opposed to diacritics, is that it is more familiar to potential readers and it unequivocally represents the glottal stop as a consonant segment; the disadvantage is that words students know only from colonial sources, which usually do not represent the glottal stop, can become difficult to locate. In addition, (C)Vh- reduplicated forms become separated from the stem form in ADN, although FK is careful to cross-reference derivative forms. Minor changes from colonial orthography include the use of z instead of a cedilla, and the substitution of cu for qu before a and o. The sounds [w] and [kw] are represented hu and cu syllable initially, uh and uc in syllable-final position. It should be noted, however, that a cu/uc spelling might not always represent a [kw] sound. In the Balsas River basin of Guerrero we find [tekutli], [tekuhtle] and [tékutlí] in Ameyaltepec, San Juan Tetelcingo, and San Agustín Oapan, respectively. Although this syllabification may be a recent innovation, it should call our attention to a potential problem in the relationship of orthographic conventions to sound, and offers a caveat to a statement that "In traditional Nahuatl writing the cu was not always inverted, and this conveyed the false impression of a syllable [ku] in forms like tecutli for t uc-tli" (p. xxiii). Finally, FK chooses to represent the final vowels of what Andrews calls "Class C" verbs as long. FK notes (p. xxiii): "In his glossary they appear with final ia and oa, but here they appear as iÿ and oÿ. In actual pronunciation, the long vowels are shortened at the ends of words, but they remain long when followed by a suffix." Actually, vowel-shortening occurs in phrase- or utterance-final position, not simply word-final position. The fact that the final vowel of "Class C" verbs is short except when followed by certain suffixes should warn us of the possibility that the long vowel occurring in forms such as quipoloÿya may be part of the inflectional process and not a reflex of underlying length in the verb. FK's choice of iÿ and oÿ for these verbs should, therefore, be understood as an implicit decision to position the vowel quantity with the verb and not the suffix.
More problematic is FK's notion of a "canonical form." At one point she notes: "By 'canonical' I mean that which is basic and can be related to other forms by general rules. The canonical form of a word not only regularizes the different spelling conventions of the sources for this dictionary but also predicts, insofar as possible, its inflectional paradigm - that is, what shape the word will take when prefixes and suffixes are added to it" (p. xi).
Later FK notes that the "canonical form of each word is based on comparison of all attestations, taken together with the general rules of Nahuatl word-formation and phonology" (p. xxiii). And, more specifically: "[T]he canonical form of this dictionary is not identical with a phonemic or a historically prior proto-form. It leans to the conservative Nahuatl of the central Mexican highlands and includes some historical innovation of form from that area. Nonetheless, the canonical form can to a high degree be related in a regular fashion to even the most peripheral of the regional dialects of the contributing sources" (pp. xxiiixxiv).
Clearly, therefore, FK uses a canonical shape to code inflectional information into the main entry. For example, she distinguishes between verbs that end in -iä vs those that end in -iya, even though such a distinction is not manifested at a surface level. Such "coding" (essentially morphophonemic representation) allows the reader to deduce inflectional paradigms from the shape of the canonical entry. Moreover, a dictionary that draws from a wide variety of sources also needs some sort of basic entry in order to avoid endless repetition of forms that can be predicted from the phonological rules of each dialect. Thus Xalitla absolutive nouns that end in hli, derived from {l+(t)li} are entered in canonical form as calli, mÿlli, etc. Similarly, a "basic" entry avoids repeating Xalitla's otli for ohtli, or Tetelcingo's mulcaxitl for mulcaxitl.
If the canonical form of ADN were simply a heuristic device to code certain morphophonemic information, or to provide forms that specific dialects predictably alter according to set phonological rules, then there would be little problem with the dictionary. It would still have been helpful, however, if FK had included a more precise specification of what the oft-referred to "general rules" are.
But, unfortunately, in ADN canonical forms are also called upon to perform the unenviable task of providing a single entry when vowel length and placement of glottal stops apparently vary across dialect. Many incongruities in the data clearly reflect internal inconsistencies and errors in specific lexicons, which FK has done a commendable job in sorting out. But other divergences may reflect real differences between dialects that cannot be accounted for by "general rules." ADN would be greatly enhanced by a short, critical analysis of the very real possibility that vowel length and glottal stop placement in cognate forms may vary across dialects (for example, the Nahuatl of the Balsas River basin has ohtlatl, as opposed to the more common otlatl) in ways that cannot be ascribed to errors, suppletion (e.g., mÿ- vs. mah-, cf. FK's discussion under tlahtli), or clearly identifiable and dialect-specific phonological rules.
In sum, the problem of canonical forms is both theoretical and methodological. At the theoretical level, it leaves open the quite pertinent question of whether "canonical" Nahuatl represents any real language and whether there are single canonical forms that can be related by "general rules" to specific lexical formations in different dialects. By eschewing historical analysis, and by leaving "general rules" unspecified, FK takes the path of least resistance. To a certain extent, perhaps mostly in the name of expediency, this path is justified. But FK would have done readers a greater service by clearly recognizing and discussing the eclectic nature of her approach and the problems of using material so much separated in time and distance.
The second problem is methodological. Faced with internal inconsistency in a particular source, FK justifiably assumes that one representation is correct. On the basis of comparative evidence and the relative frequency of one or the other form in the problematic dialect, she selects a single form for the canonical entry (cf. her treatment of omitl, tec(i), teht moliÿ, temulotl, tepotztoca, and tlachpÿnhuÿztli). In many cases an idiosyncratic form from one dialect is entered under a canonical form that conforms to the pattern found in other dialects (cf. the discussion under t nquÿxtiÿ). Or a particular dialect may include a word that FK "corrects" on the basis of evidence from a related lexeme found in another source (cf. xihxicuinoÿ). But a focus on canonical forms has the unfortunate result of leading FK to standardize the data. It is often difficult to determine when she is correcting inconsistencies and when she is altering correctly recorded information.
The determination of vowel length and placement of glottal stops
In her effort to specify a single canonical form FK introduces changes based on her own etymological analysis, on "general rules" that she feels should have applied, and on a variety of decisions that reflect her own interpretation of Nahuatl morphology and grammar.
Changing entries on the basis of etymology is dangerous for three reasons: 1) it is hard to be consistent; 2) the etymology proposed may be wrong; and 3) in spite of obvious etymological relations between words, undetermined processes may alter vowel length (examples are ulÿni and tlÿlolÿni, nÿhuatia and nahuati, and the variation that affects the root chal/chÿl). Many corrections in the data that FK proposes are unobjectionable. Thus she changes amiltomatl to ÿmÿltomatl based on what she calls a "transparent" derivation. But it is difficult to determine when FK deems her etymological analysis sufficient to provide grounds for changing data from the sources. Ahpilulli ("jarro de barro, el cántaro de la mano") is not changed to ÿpilulli for the canonical form even though FK expects the ÿ element ("agua"); ÿhu lic ("desabrido, insípido") is not changed to ahhu lic (with the expected negative particle ah-); ÿtlap chtli ("bajada (de la barranca)") is not changed to ÿtlapechtli (even though FK feels that it incorporates tlapechtli "cama"), nor is iztÿltic ("anémico, pálido") corrected to iztaltic even though all other words beginning iztal- have a short a. On the other hand, the second vowel is lengthened in ÿcÿhualli given that "it should be long if the literal sense is 'something dehydrated.'" FK lengthens the second syllable of ÿyutuchin and comments that "If this means literally 'turtle-rabbit,' as it seems to, the vowel of the second syllable should be long, but in the attestations it is not so marked." Similar reasoning is applied to ÿzcacualoÿ and many other words.
Whether or not FK's reasoning is correct in the above instances, changing entries can lead to serious problems. Thus she enters Tetelcingo's cayasibi under cayahcihu(i) and notes that, "The single attestation in T does not have an internal glottal stop, but in view of the tendency in T to lose such glottal stops, this is a plausible derivation from (I)HCIHU(I)." A cognate to cayasibi from San Agustín Oapan, Guerrero, kakaistik, suggests that there is no glottal stop. Moreover, the context in which Tetelcingo loses glottal stops is never precisely specified (it is often retained, cf. ojtli). Elsewhere FK inserts a glottal stop for unclear or erroneous reasons (cf. (i)lpihticah and tlahcuilohhuiliÿ). In the entry under camachaloÿ FK notes that "Both Z and X give this with a long vowel in chal, but in the abundant attestations of camachalli elsewhere, the vowel is short." The long vowel should probably have been retained: Ameyaltepec, Guerrero has kamachalko and kamachaleh with a short vowel, but kamachÿlowa with a long one. The similarity of chal/chÿl to ulÿni and tlÿlolÿni, in which vowel length changes for reasons that we have not yet been able to determine, should be apparent. FK also states that Molina's entry for pitzÿhua mistakenly combines two words, and that the meaning "hablar alto la muger" is derived from pÿtza. This does not seem correct and the meaning "hablar alto" is probably a metaphoric extension of pitz- meaning "delgado" (this is supported by ADN's own entry for tlapitzhuiÿ, "hace ruido el guajolote allá, llora niño con voz delgadita" where the short i is maintained). In various derivations such as cecec, chichic, etic (Tetelcingo, not mentioned under etic, has a long final vowel) and xococ, FK erroneously shortens the final vowel. A long vowel is undoubtedly correct in many of the reported adjectives. Its absence in the corresponding verb is probably due to neutralization of i before a. The long vowel does appear in cec ya; in Ameyaltepec one finds the series xokotl, xokuya and xokuk where both the verbal and adectival forms clearly manifest the long final vowel.
The danger of FK's methodology is also well illustrated by the many entries that contain tlahu lÿluk. For example, uc lmotlahu liltic ("o desventurado de tí, guay de tí (M), desdichadísimo (C)") refers the reader to -tlahu liltic; and tlahtlahu lÿlucÿt(i) ("hacer ruindades") refers the reader to tlahu lÿlucat(i). But neither -tlahu liltic nor tlahu lÿlucat(i) mention any change in vowel length from the data and refer the reader to tlahu lli and tlahu lÿluc, respectively. It is only under these entries that FK mentions that she has lengthened the vowel in the syllable hu l; the reader must deduce that this has been carried out in all derivations. Under tlahu lÿluc FK notes that the Bancroft dialogues give a short vowel in its two attestations, and Carochi marks the vowel short in eleven out of twelve occurrences. FK suggests that both sources might "reflect a contextual shortening of this vowel when followed by two subsequent syllables containing long vowels." This ad hoc rule is not justified, and many words in ADN manifest three consecutive syllables with long vowels. FK has lengthened the vowel in tlahu lÿluc and all related derivations based on her etymology that derives this word from tlahu lli ("indignación, enojo o furia del que está airado y lleno de saña (M), coraje, enojo, ira (C)"). But under the entry for tlahu lli we learn that although Tetelcingo and Zacapoaxtla generally have a long vowel, Carochi marks the vowel long in less than a third of the attestations, and that the Bancroft dialogues give the vowel as short in two derivations. Perhaps tlahu lÿluc is not derived from tlahu lli, or perhaps derivations from tlahu lli uniformly have a short vowel. In whatever case the lengthening of the vowel does not seem justified.
The problems of using etymological analysis to alter data are repeated in regard to rule application. Again, it is not clear when FK maintains data in spite of "general rules" that suggest an error, and when she changes data to agree with "general rules." In all the following cases FK has changed (lengthened or shortened as the case may be) a vowel (which I have double underlined) to concord with general rules: cemihcacÿyulÿhuayÿn, (i)cn lÿlmat(i), (i)hxÿtiÿ, (i)lhuÿlu, (i)ttÿtiÿ, (i)xhuÿtiÿ, mahuiztilÿllani, nepanuhuiliÿ, tequitiltiÿ, t tzacuiltÿluni, tlateumatiliztli, tlateutoquiliztli, and zumÿliÿ. In the following cases, however, although by general rule a vowel (double underlined) should be different, FK has not changed the entry: ÿyÿltiÿ, (i)cnelilu, (i)tquitiÿ, ixhuÿltiÿ, machÿltiÿ, pÿhuaxÿltiÿ, pahtÿltiÿ, and palÿctic.
FK cites a general rule that calls for a short vowel before the -ltiÿ causative ending. In all but one case (tequitiltiÿ), however, she leaves the long vowel and simply comments that it should be short. Before the -tiÿ causative ending, the final stem vowel should be long according to a rule formulated by Carochi (and endorsed by Andrews and Karttunen). FK lengthens the vowel in (i)ttÿtiÿ and (i)xhuÿtiÿ even though Tetelcingo consistently gives them as short and Carochi does not mark them long. The case of (i)hxÿtiÿ is even more problematical given that Carochi specifically states it to be short (as was the case with the passives already described). In Ameyaltepec, Guerrero there is a minimal pair: tlaxÿtia (derived from asi) "completar una carga, terminar una tarea" and tlaxitia (derived from isa) "parársele a uno el pene." In defending her lengthening of the stem-final vowel in ihxitiÿ FK (1987:245) mentions that "the other sources have a long vowel, in accordance with the general rule that Carochi himself states." But Tetelcingo (pp. 34, 216) also has a short vowel.
FK generally writes a long vowel (ÿ) before the passive ending -lu even when a rule formulated by Carochi calls for a short vowel. She has stated (1987:24546) that this is because these non-active forms are taken from sources other than Carochi. The argument is only valid up to a point. In other situations FK has applied Carochi's rules to modern dialects. It is also unclear why, if Carochi specifically gave icnelilu and ilhuilu as cases in which the stem-final vowel is short, FK has lengthened the vowel for one canonical entry but not the other. Under (i)cn lilu FK has also formulated a general rule as follows: "C[arochi] specifically says that the i of the third syllable is short by contrast with the of the preceding syllable, but this is probably the result of some secondary shortening. By general rule this should be (i)cn lÿlu." FK does not elaborate upon what "secondary shortening" refers to, nor when it applies. In her comments under (i)lhuÿlu, which she corrects from Carochi's ilhuilu, FK states that the short vowel is probably due to "some superficial neutralization of length distinctions." Thus (cf. the discussion under tlahu lli) we are presented with "contextual shortening," "secondary shortening," and "superficial neutralization" to explain variation, without any clear explanation as to when these processes occur. A similar problem occurs with the "general rules" that FK often cites. Often, they appear to be based on Carochi's grammar. But in the case of passive formations the "general rule" that gives a long vowel is apparently based on modern dialects. The problem of applying "rules" from such diverse sources to create canonical forms is not adequately discussed.
Occasionally FK's etymologies or comments are in error, as might be expected in such an ambitious work. For example, Tetelcingo and Xalitla coyactic is stated to be a variant of coyoctic found in other sources. But the derivation of the two is different: coyuni and coyÿwi, respectively. FK inserts a hypothetical i in hu iyac, when the form hu yac is correct. And cequ(i) should be listed as (i)cequ(i), or perhaps (i)hcequ(i).
Finally, based on her understanding of Nahuatl grammar and morphology, FK occasionally inserts entries not found in any sources. She also assigns separate entries for forms that occur only as part of compounds: m yalli, which occurs only in ÿm yalli; nehnecuilli, which is found only in ixtenehnecuilli; pahpÿlli, found only in compounds with ÿxtli; pechtli, which appears in tlapechtli, pehpechtli and in compounds; quechtetl, which is the first element in several compounds; comulli, found in ÿcomulli and tlacomulli; and neltic, found only in pitzoneltic and mÿtzocuiltlaneltic. FK creates an entry for t miÿ and attaches a translation from Tetelcingo's (tla)y ct miÿ. In this case the reader is not warned that t miÿ occurs only in certain compounds. Given that no source gives t miÿ as an unbound lexeme, it is quite possible that it occurs only in compounds. Moreover, evidence from the Balsas River basin suggests that in composition t miÿ (and t ma) often mean "extender o echar" and not "llenar" (cf. n chtlÿlt mia "me echa tierra (a la cara o el cuerpo)"). FK also creates an entry for cualÿnqui based on the occurrence of cualÿni as the first element in compounds such as cualÿncÿnahuatiÿ. This methodology may be justified in certain cases as a useful device for cross-referencing, although at times it gives an erroneous impression of the potential for such forms to occur (such as pechtli). Also questionable is the utility of creating entries for words that have never been found, and may not even be possible. In her comments FK occasionally states that certain words imply unattested forms: palaxtli implies *palay(a) and metzÿxco implies metzÿxtli. Until we know more about Nahuatl derivational processes it would be better to refrain from such comments. We would probably not want to assume *poloya from Ameyaltepec popoloxtlÿcatl, "un hombre que habla sin sentido," or ÿÿxtli from ÿÿxco, "la superficie del agua."
The problem with ADN goes beyond whether or not FK correctly changes vowel lengths. The more basic question is whether somewhat vague rules, often from different dialects and time periods, should be invoked to change empirical evidence, or whether the evidence should be used to reformulate and re-evaluate the rules. This is a basic methodological question that should be dealt with not only in ADN, but in any dictionary that is based on evidence from disparate sources. ADN works best as a concise presentation of information on vowel length for quick consultation. It is less successful in providing a uniform lexicon and at times becomes problematical when changing data.
The English translation
In her User's Guide section, FK states (p. xv) that the purpose of ADN is to provide two things not found in either Molina or Siméon: information about long vowels and glottal stops in individual words, and English glosses. It is to this second goal that I now wish to turn.
FK offers two further definitions of her goal in the English glosses. First, they "strive to balance basic, rather literal meaning with conventional usage" (Introduction, p. xxix). Second, "The English glosses are not simply translations of Molina, as I explain in the introduction; they are mine and strive to express the basic sense and the use of the lexical item. In writing them, I have called on what James Lockhart and I have come across in years of reading notarial texts as well as the sources that contribute directly to ADN" (1987:244). The necessity of English glosses that capture the basic sense of the Nahuatl is a point well taken. Spanish glosses, particularly in Molina and Siméon, are often context particular, and readers of ADN are well-served when FK is able to extract the basic sense of the Nahuatl and present a clear and concise English definition (cf. milÿni, mixmolun(i)). Her translations often accomplish this, and at times add significant information to the Spanish (cf. mixteteica). But they are often frustratingly erroneous and incomplete.
There are a few cases of outright mistranslation. Thus tet lic is given in the Zacapoaxtla dictionary as "agarroso," which FK mistakenly translates as "someone grabby." Both the Nahuatl and the colloquial Spanish expression refer to a particular sour taste, such as that of green bananas or persimmons. The Tetelcingo verb tlaizhuat ca, "zacatea" is translated as "to make hay." The action referred to is that of stripping corn leaves off the dried maize plant and then, after a bunch of leaves have been gathered in one's hand, to slam them down (hence the -t ca element) between two stripped stalks for later bundling and tying. Note that izhuatl in Tetelcingo (from where the verb comes) refers to "la caña de la milpa." FK translates ihÿyucui as "to have something to eat, take some refreshment" and gives part of Carochi's translation "comer... un bocado." The full text in Carochi (and the word's etymology) makes it clear that the Nahuatl means "to stop for a small bite to eat in order to regain strength." Tlailpiliztli, "acción de amarrar," is erroneously given as "the action of untying something." Cuauhmuchitl, Spanish "guamuchil," is mistakenly referred to as a tamarind.
Often the translations are perplexing because they fail to give an obvious and simple English translation. Tlapicÿloÿ, "lloviznar" is given as "to rain" (why not "to drizzle"?) and tlÿltotunqui, "el suelo está caliente," as "warm earth" (why not "hot"?). In a similar vein ecuÿtlahtlapÿn, "frijol quebrado," is translated as "mashed beans" when both the Nahuatl and Spanish (tlapÿni/quebrado) refer to brittle objects that are broken. "Mashed beans" are cooked; a translation of "broken or split beans" would be more accurate. Poqu(i) "fumar" is glossed as "to give off smoke" instead of the correct "to smoke (a cigarette, pipe, cigar, etc.)." And nehnemi, "andar o caminar," is translated as "to wander about." In composition as -tinemi, the verb nemi does mean "to wander about." But certainly the primary meaning of nehnemi is simply "to walk." Poztequ(i) is glossed as "to split, to break lengthwise; to break something lengthwise." Its actual meaning is "to break crosswise (a branch, bone, etc.)." Apparently FK has interpreted a Spanish gloss "quiebra la dirección en que va" for "lengthwise." I believe the reference is a metaphoric extension of poztequi to occasions when persons, animals, or even moving phenomena such as rivers, suddenly change direction. Mÿnahuatiÿ, "se despide de él (con la mano)," is translated as "to cast something or someone away."
At times, the English translation captures only a part of the Nahuatl meaning, leaving out what may be the most important part of the Spanish gloss. On the other hand, the English gloss may add a meaning that is not apparent from either the Nahuatl or Spanish. For example, ÿtuyÿtl has a Spanish gloss of "corriente de agua, río," but in English has only "river." The primary meaning of ÿtuyÿtl is a current, usually flood or rain waters, that rushes down a hill. The key meaning of ÿxpoloÿ as "desperdiciar o echar a perder algo" does not appear in the English gloss. Likewise, a primary meaning of moyÿhu(a), "enturbiar el agua o otra cosa líquida," is absent from the English gloss. Eh camutla, "lo embruja," is glossed as "to bewitch someone; to make spirits visible;" the justification for "to make spirits visible" is not clear.
There are also cases in which the English gloss is based on an erroneous selection of one of several possible Spanish meanings. Thus tecuÿnaltiÿ, "lo prende," is given as "to seize, capture someone." "Prender" can be translated as either "to light (a fire)" or "to seize." The correct gloss for tecuÿnaltiÿ is, however, "to light" (for example, cf. Siméon 1977:453). The same Spanish word "prender" is found also as a definition for celiy(a). Unless FK has found a case of a metaphoric use of celiy(a), the correct translation is "to take root (a plant)" and not, as in ADN, "to catch fire." The translation of malÿna as "sprain something" is also apparently taken from the Spanish "torcer" although the Nahuatl verb refers to the twisting of fiber (prototypically hemp on one's shin) and not to a sprain or twisted body part. For mahuizutiÿ, "lo divierte, lo observa," the English gloss "to divert" in ADN selects the wrong meaning of "divertir." The correct translation is "to amuse or entertain." Similar errors occur with other words. Thus for p p hualtiÿ, "provocar a saña a otro (M), lo ofende (T), lo injuria (T)," FK gives "to offend, injure someone," selecting a secondary meaning of "injuriar" ("to injure") rather than the more common meaning, which is applicable here, of "to insult." With poxÿhui, "se cae, se desploma," FK again selects a secondary and non-applicable meaning of "desplomar" ("to get out of plumb") rather than "to crumble down." Momati has a meaning of "se halla," which FK translates as "it appears." In this usage the meaning of momati (and "se halla") is "to feel comfortable or at home in a place or situation." A metaphoric meaning of ÿtl is "la mollera de la cabeza." Although "mollera" may mean either "crown of the head" or "fontanel," ÿtl refers only to the soft part of the head that disappears as a child matures. Quÿxtiÿ is glossed as "to relieve oneself," apparently based on a colloquial interpretation of "excusarse," rather than the indicated "to take leave."
Conclusion
At a methodological and theoretical level ADN presents problems of conceptualization and implementation that should have been more clearly formulated and discussed. More serious for its practical use as a teaching and learning tool, the English glosses are often inadequate. Yet in spite of its shortcomings, ADN has also been instrumental in sensitizing students of Nahuatl to the importance of considering vowel length and glottal stops in philological analysis. Most importantly, it is a concise reference work on vowel length and glottal stop placement. ADN provides an invaluable research tool that will free scholars and fieldworkers from the cumbersome task of consulting myriad sources for questions of Nahuatl phonology.
In Ameyaltepec, as in Xalitla, underlying {h} is lost in all but word-final positions.
References cited
Andrews, J. Richard. 1975. Introduction to Classical Nahuatl. Austin: University of Texas Press. Bierhorst, John. 1985. A Nahuatl-English Dictionary and Concordance to the Cantares mexicanos with an Analytic Transcription and Grammatical Notes. Stanford: Stanford University Press. __________. 1992. Codex Chimalpopoca: The Text in Nahuatl with a Glossary and Grammatical Notes. Tucson: University of Arizona Press. Brewer, Forrest, and Jean G. Brewer. 1971. Vocabulario mexicano de Tetelcingo, Morelos. México: Instituto Lingüístico del Verano. Campbell, Lyle. 1985. The Pipil Language of El Salvador. New York: Mouton. Campbell, R. Joe. 1985. A Morphological Dictionary of Classical Nahuatl: A Morpheme Index to the Vocabulario en lengua mexicana y castellana of Fray Alonso de Molina. Madison, Wisconsin: Hispanic Seminary of Medieval Studies. Canger, Una. 1986. "Review of Frances Karttunen, An Analytical Dictionary of Nahuatl." International Journal of American Linguistics 52(2):18896. Carochi, Horacio. 1983 [1645]. Arte de la lengua mexicana con la de declaración de los adverbios della. Edición facsimilar con un estudio introductorio de Miguel León-Portilla. México: Universidad Nacional Autónoma de México. Karttunen, Frances. 1987. "A reply." International Journal of American Linguistics 53(2):24248. __________. 1983. An Analytical Dictionary of Nahuatl. Austin: University of Texas Press. Key, Harold, and Mary Ritchie de Key. 1953. Vocabulario de la Sierra de Zacapoaxtla, Puebla. México: Instituto Lingüístico del Verano. Molina, Fray Alonso de. 1970 [1571]. Vocabulario en lengua castellano y mexicana y mexicana y castellana. Estudio preliminar de Miguel León-Portilla. México: Porrua. Siméon, Rémi. 1977. Diccionario de la lengua náhuatl o mexicana. Traducción de Josefina Oliva de Coll. México: Siglo Veintiuno.
Jonathan D. Amith
Yale University
Note: In-text page numbers refer to the earlier Spanish version of Amith's review, not to the original English version that appears here.
The publishers of the paperback edition of An Analytical Dictionary of Nahuatl (ADN) recently sent me a copy of a review by Jonathan Amith published in June, 1998, in Mesoamérica. According to a footnote, a previous version of Amith's review appeared in Mesoamérica 33 (June 1997) with errors and omissions that the 1998 version corrects.
Since Amith's review appears to call into question the integrity of the dictionary, I feel it requires a reply, and I am posting it to the NN and Nahuatl-L for maximum distribution to Nahuatl scholars. It would be unfortunate if current or potential users of ADN were to lose confidence in the dependability of the dictionary. The review is twelve pages long. On the first page and the last Amith speaks of ADN in positive general terms, and in the intervening ten pages, he takes the position that it methodologically flawed and contains many serious inaccuracies. On p. 277, Amith states that there are defects in three areas: 1) the concept of the canonical form of the entries; 2) the treatment of contrastive vowel length; and 3) the English glosses of the entries.
Beginning with the canonical form, he is dissatisfied with the orthography used. As he himself acknowledges, the orthography is not an invention for ADN, but is that used by J. Richard Andrews in his Introduction to Classical Nahuatl (University of Texas Press, 1975). Oddly, in his characterization of the orthography, Amith states on p. 277 that in ADN long vowels are marked with colons after the vowels, but this is not the case. Long vowels in ADN are indicated with macrons over the vowels, just as they are in Andrews. When Amith states on p. 278 that minor changes in "colonial orthography" are made in ADN, concerning qu and cu before the vowels a and o, these choices were - once again - already made by Andrews and are not innovations in the dictionary.
I chose to follow Andrews in order not to proliferate orthographies and to make the dictionary maximally compatible with the grammar. Naturally, I would not have adopted this particular orthography if I felt it to be defective or misleading. But on the contrary, I am in agreement with Andrews that his orthography is optimal for representing and teaching a conservative central Mexican variety of Nahuatl to which the greatest number of Nahuatl scholars and students seek access.
For regional dialect studies, a different type of transcription is appropriate. There exists a substantial corpus of Nahuatl dictionaries of particular communities, each with an orthography devised to reflect the phonetic characteristics of Nahuatl speech in that microarea. These dictionaries were designed to be maximally accessible to the members of the communities in question. The more locally useful they are, however, the more opaque they are to the broader pool of potential users. Mental translation among these various orthographies requires training in phonology plus a degree of linguistic agility that shuts out many people who deserve to get in.
I am of the opinion that any alteration Amith would have of the orthography of ADN would reduce its usefulness to a great many users of the dictionary. On p. 278 Amith Remarks that orthographic cu and uc do not always represent phonetic [kw] and gives as an example three forms of the word for "lord, ruler" from three communities in the Río Balsas region. However, the trisyllabic forms he cites appear to me to be back-loans of Spanish spelling pronunciation of written Nahuatl. This is the case in the Nahuatl spoken in Milpa, Alta, where teuhtli, the local reflex of /te:kwtli/, still means "lord," but the back-loan tecohtli means "boss." There are no Spanish loanwords included in ADN, even ones that originated in Nahuatl, traveled to Spanish, and then returned.
This is the first of a number of instances in which Amith states that ADN is inadequate because it does not represent to his satisfaction the currently spoken Río Balsas dialects. However, it was not intended to do so. I am confident that it can be a useful tool in studying these dialects, but ultimately it is up to Amith to produce the fruit of his own long fieldwork and show to what extent these dialects agree with the sources from which ADN was compiled, to what extent they diverge, and how systematic the divergences are.
When ADN took shape, Amith's Río Balsas material was not available to be incorporated into the comparative data files. However, the dictionary of nearby Xalitla, Guerrero, compiled by Cleofas Celestino Ramírez and Karen Dakin was so incorporated. The Xalitla material does not follow the Carochi and Bancroft patterns of contrastive vowel-length with the consistency of the material from the modern Tetelcingo dictionary. This has led me to the conclusion that in the last quarter of this century contrastive vowel length in Xalitla has been eroded, retained mainly in shibboleth pairs. Some linguists - including José Antonio Flores Fárfan, who has worked extensively on Nahuatl of the Río Balsas region - agree with my understanding of this while others - notably Karen Dakin - disagree. Amith would do us a favor if he would publish an article setting forth the systematic and the random differences in the corpora he has collected.
Still on p. 278 Amith criticizes my departure from Andrews in marking the final vowels of "Class C" verbs as long. My reason for doing so is that the final vowel of such stems is long when followed by the suffixes -ni (customary present) and -ya (imperfect) and short when word-final or followed by a glottal stop ("saltillo"). My choice is not ad hoc, since these two shortening contexts are general in Nahuatl (although some uninflected particles and the nouns that drop a stem final /i/ in word-final position retain surface phonetic long final vowels). Amith objects that this general shortening is not just in word-final position but in phrase- or utterance-final position. This strikes me as an odd objection, since on the one hand, phrase-final and utterance-final imply word-final, and on the other hand, word-final shortening occurs within as well as at the end of phrases.
Amith feels that my choice excludes the possibility that the final vowels of "Class C" verbs are lengthened by a morphological process specific to the customary present and imperfect suffixes. It was not my intent to exclude alternative analyses, and Amith is welcome to propose one and argue for it. The canonical forms in ADN are there, however, to be maximally predictive of vowel length in derived forms. They are not intended as statements of phonological theory or of psychological reality.
Amith goes on for another page complaining that the forms of ADN are not the specific forms of particular dialects (Xalitla and Tetelcingo) and that, moreover, general rules of deriving specific local forms that are mentioned in the dictionary are not set forth in the dictionary itself. These complaints strike me as gratuitous. There is no place in the dictionary for a comparative dialect study, nor would one benefit most users of the dictionary. As for the examples Amith cites, it is a general rule in Xalitla Nahuatl that geminate -ll- (<-l-tl) is aspired (pronounced as [hl]). Thus canonical CAL-LI predicts cahli in Xalitla. In Tetelcingo vowels have undergone quality changes that enhance the contrast of long and short vowels. Thus, the long O of the canonical form is predictably realized in Tetelcingo as [u] in mulcaxitl. These correspondences are obvious and transparent to any linguist examining the primary data.
On p. 280, Amith asserts that I have smoothed over and corrected inconsistencies in my sources. This is far from the case. The compilation of the dictionary began with an exhaustive comparison of attestations from several early and modern sources. There was no way of knowing in advance whether they would agree or not. It emerged that the modern Tetelcingo material overwhelmingly agreed with the Carochi and Bancroft material. The Zacapoaxtla data was less consistent, but it was not internally consistent either. When confusion between long vowels and stressed short vowels was taken into account, there was a better fit. The apparent problems I found in the Xalitla data seem to have most to do with long vowels no longer being consistently contrasted with short ones. According to Flores Fárfan and Celestino Ramírez, Nahuatl in Xalitla has nearly ceased to be transmitted from parents to their children, and in this situation of imminent language death, it is difficult for anyone to collect new data to resolve these questions.
In any case, I categorically deny that I have "corrected" entries or suppressed data. When there is agreement in attestations across several sources, the ADN entry is given without attestations. When there is disagreement among sources, the attestations are given, and the nature of the disagreement is plainly stated. The original comparative data files are archived at the Benson Latin American Collection of the University of Texas where Amith is welcome to consult them. Up until December 1998, I had them readily at hand for answering queries, but Amith has never contacted me with any.
From charges of correction, Amith moves on, at the end of p. 280, to claim that I have changed vowel-length values. This is contrary to the purpose of the dictionary, and I deny that I have done so. Where attestations do not agree with what derivational morphology would predict, I have been scrupulous in stating that they do not. Amith's quotations from entries in ADN bear this out.
Once again Amith resorts to examples from the Río Balsas region, but it is difficult to know what to make of them in a context of "sugiere," "probablemente," and "parece." Moreover, it hardly seems appropriate for Amith to complain of ADN not spelling out general rules and then for he himself to cite vowel-length inconsistencies in his data "donde la cantidad vocálica cambia por razones que aún no hemos podido determinar."
At the bottom of p. 282 Amith claims that my methodology is "etymological" and that it is not clear when I have respected the data and when I have changed it for my own purposes. Neither of these assertions is correct. Once again, the very quotations from ADN that Amith presents undercut his criticism. Users of the dictionary may be assured that it is solidly data based and is not characterized by unheralded changes of any sort. Amith's use of shudder quotes lends no validity to his insinuations.
The charges on the lower half of p. 284 and top of p. 285 are baseless. There are no stealthily created artificial entries in ADN, and Amith's advice that "Sería mejor desister de tales commentarios hasta saber más de los procesos derivacionales de náhuatl" is not calculated to win him a Mr. Congeniality award.
Beginning in the middle of p. 285 and continuing onto p. 288, Amith criticizes the English translations provided in ADN, stating that they are often frustratingly incomplete or erroneous. Specifically, he cites the English glosses of two dozen entries. I think the implication is that these two dozen are but a sampling of a much larger number of errors, which I certainly hope is not the case. But to have even a few poor or misleading glosses in a dictionary is distressing, so I am not going to take the line that two dozen out of more than 6,000 is not so bad.
In the past I have come across some embarrassing mistakes on my own and had the chance to correct them in the paperback edition. Una Canger objected to my characterization of a word for shell meaning "egg" only through metaphorical extension, and further examination of a lot of texts has convinced me that she has a pont. In some areas the word I took to mean "mollusk shell" is used as the only or the primary word for "egg." Likewise, Ricardo Salvador has kindly corrected me on my understanding of the parts of the maize flower, and he caught a mistake that passed unnoticed from the original edition into the paperback: describing a tree as one that is planted to provide shade for coffee bushes, when in fact, it is planted to provide shade for cacao. Also, someone pointed out to me that a terse gloss of mine "dove" begs the question of whether I mean the bird or the past tense of the verb "to dive." Fortunately, Molina's Spanish gloss paired with my English one makes the meaning clear.
Since the original publication of ADN, however, no one has sent me a list of more than a very few problematic glosses. I certainly wish that if prior to the paperback edition Amith had already come across some or all of the ones he lists in his review, he had sent them to me. But just as he has never queried me about canonical forms and inconsistencies between ADN forms and Río Balsas area forms, it is also the case that he has never contacted me about English glosses.
Assuming that the glosses he presents as defective are the strongest examples of error, some of them strike me as straw men. He rejects my "to have something to eat, to take some refreshment" for a literal translation from Carochi, "to stop for a small bite to eat in order to gain strength." He rejects "to rain" in favor of "to drizzle" and my "warm" for "hot." He says my gloss of the f