Précis of Maya Deren’s Divine Horsemen: The Living Gods of Haiti
Aditya Chaturvedi
Maya Deren’s account of Haitian Voudoun tradition results from her own experience of the “reality which had forced” her “to recognize its integrity and to abandon” her “manipulations” (pg.6). In her preface, she admits her inability to comprehend this tradition purely as an artist and subtlety, to me, ascribes it to “the reality that mastered it”. The book, thus, is not a systematic/conventional anthropological or ethnographical study, but, a presentation by the Haitian Voudoun in its own terms. However, throughout the book, she actively responds to possible modern academic engagements with rituals and beliefs of Haitian Voudoun practitioners, and thus, addressing possible criticism that might arise from such engagements.
She begins the book with an introductory note discussing the demography of the practitioners and the general outlook towards these practices from different sections of the Haitian society, making it clear that while the upper and middle classes remain ignorant about them, it is very much a way of living for the peasants. She goes on to explain the fundamental terms and concepts of Voudoun including gross-bon-range, loa, houngan, espirit, and honour. Instead of alienating these concepts from their original context, she presents them before her readers as they are by her interactions with practitioners and her own experiences. Voudoun is based on the premise that the human material body is animated by non-material soul, psyche, or spirit. While the material body decays after the occurrence of death- live and death are just transformative moments to that which is immortal. This individual soul or grow-bon-range is after death, through rituals, raised at higher levels of being – making an ancestor archetype and sometimes a loa too. These loa mount human bodies and this phenomenon are called possession. Gods and humans have a symbiotic relationship in Haitian society- while the former is revered and honoured by the latter, he never forgets that “he was made god by humans” (pg.33). The constellations of loa are reflective of shared Christian and African heritage of Voudoun. Deren brings out complexities of metaphysical assimilation Christian divinity and saints in Voudoun and geographical origins of African loa lucidly.
Deren argues that while Voudoun might seem to be an animistic religion, on close analysis it quite doesn’t fit in the orthodox arrangements of animistic religions. She, then, engages with a category of ‘primitive culture’, loaded with some derogatory connotations, to re-interpret it and argue that what is often understood as ‘mystical’, or a result of unknown/mystical occurrence by Europeans is attributed loa by Haitians (pg. 88&297). It is important to note here that, rather than simply rejecting or presenting them in a ‘reasonable’ way, as might be expected of an academic, she takes indigenous categories and concepts very seriously. This engagement becomes clearer in her discussion of Haitian reliance on loa for healing and their reservations about modern medical facilities. She substantiates her arguments with vivid examples- of La Merci (pg.167) in this case, for instance. In her discussion on possession also, she provides possible ‘modern/logical’ views on it only to prove them unimportant to a Haitian. She writes: “List all those intellectual and moral qualities- vision, inspiration, imagination, – which most distinguish the poet, the philosopher, the scientist; catalogue them, name them, count and differentiate and ‘explain’ their origins their operation, mechanisms, and their motivations. The Haitian will not dispute you …..All that we call to have loa. ” She repeatedly compares religion with magic and argues while the former is for the community, the latter is personal; the rituals of the former are public, of the latter are kept secret and are mysterious; and in the former serviteur is changed while the world changes in Magic. This comparison reflects the assumptions she might have had about the readers who would simply term voudoun rituals ‘magical’, overlooking their deep meanings and effects.
Deren presents Haitian ritualistic dances as meditative practices done for the loa in contrast with secular forms which are more stylized and lay emphasis on acrobatics. The dance controlled by drum-beats in Voudoun rituals is considered is treated as a collective creative endeavour – a way of the negation of the individual self. However, it is not understood in complete denial of the individual genius, rather it is attributed to the collective act or the loa in control of it. She also discusses the presentation and reception of these dance forms out of their ritual context in an industrial culture.
Liminality- ‘in-betweens, neither this nor that, bridges’- seem to be of importance in Voudoun rituals and also emerges as a metaphor for the larger content of the book itself. Deren begins the book by calling myth the “twilight speech” (pg.21), then goes on to discuss elaborate Voudoun rituals involving symbolisms acting as bridges between the two worlds; houngans as the intermediaries between humans and the loa; and finally, before discussing possession properly, she places the readers at the ‘threshold to the unknown’ (pg.247). Some of these concepts are similar to Hindu notions of the potency of liminal spaces and times and their importance in the ritual. She emphasizes the negation of the individual self to possess the loa and impossibility of being the two i.e.the human and the God simultaneously. This is yet another notion found in some South Asian religious traditions including Hinduism. Deren’s book seems very bold and different to me when I compare it with dominant scholarship on India from her time as it would dismiss most of the indigenous categories as ‘irrational’. The last chapter of the book was most impactful to me as Deren almost recreates her experience of losing the ‘self’ to loa, as it were and being transformed, through a very poetic language.
Maya Deren poses a problematic in her introduction when she asks if the scientific or scholarly detachment – which is based on manifold dualities- be even valid as a means to truth in examining the Oriental and African cultures which are” predicated on the notion that the truth can be apprehended only when every cell of brain and body- the totality of human being- is engaged in the pursuit? (pg.9 ) In the book by recognising the limitations of modern western analytic categories, she challenges their supposed universality across time and space as valid epistemic apparatuses.
Aditya, thank you for your thorough précis. I agree with your comment that Maya Deren presented the Hatian Voudoun on its own terms and expounds on them via the history, rituals, and beliefs of the Voudoun. You mention, “Deren almost recreates her experience of losing the ‘self’ to loa, as it were and being transformed, through a very poetic language.” Do you think she was mounted by a loa? If so, I would like to know from you and the class what are the ramifications on her documentary? Does such a personal, religious experience benefit one’s research, or does it diminish the objectivity of her research?
Two questions for you and/or the class deals with the pragmatism of the loa. First she writes, “In Haiti the idea, the principle, must live, must function, for the conditions of Haitian life are indeed difficult to endure . . . The man of such a culture must be, necessarily, a pragmatist” (73). Later she writes, “to worship the loa is to celebrate the principle not the matter in which it may be momentarily or permanently manifest (p. 89). How do these two statements coincide? Does each service particularly call out a “pragmatic” loa, or does the community hold a service and then wait to see which loa mounts a person? Second, based upon the readings of Rudof Otto’s The Idea of the Holy, why did Protestantism, according to Deren (p.54, 57, 79) have such a profound negative impact on the Voudoun whereas Catholicism was integrated into their religion and rituals?
Thank you Aditya,
You point to Deren’s serious engagement of the “indigenous categories and concepts.” I agree with your description of her study, and I wonder what we as a class and possibly future ethnographers can learn from her engagement with Voudoun? Furthermore, I found her explanation of rituals as a collective practice extremely fascinating. She describes how when one participates in the dance, one becomes part of the “genius”, thus more than onesself and the collective offers one support (228&229). I find the collective element and inclusivity of the religion of Voudoun refreshing. This communal element of religious experiences was almost nonexistent in William James. Which raises the question of how our cultures and our practices of religion are connected and interrelated?
Aditya, thank you for your precis and comments on Deren’s work. Both you and Greg have highlighted the question of method and objectivity in your posts, one which I think Campbell articulates well in the book’s foreword: “. . . the question as to whether information derived from any such indentification [SIC] with an alien culture as overcame Maya Deren can be accepted as scientific; or, to phrase the problem in psychoanalytical terms: can countertransference to a culture be employed as a methodological tool?” (p. xvi). Deren’s method is, in some ways, the participant observation that we have discussed in class taken to the maximum application and its results are valuable – as you have highlighted, a description of the Voudoun religion on its own terms. However, because of the intensity of her own experience, Deren’s work may not be counted as credibly objective. It seems to me, then, that here in is a tension of some significance, ethically and academically. That is, can participant observation be taken too far? Or, conversely, is it possibly true that the best research of religious experience might be done by practitioners?
Aditya, thank you for this precis. I think your points about the value of her critique of western epistemic apparatuses is very valuable–in formulating critiques of her method, as I am wont to do, it is worth remembering that Deren invokes critique herself, and deserves to be respected for that reflexivity.
That said, I would perhaps raise the question of
1) whether or not what her project accomplishes is actually putting these experiences in the “own terms” of Voudoun practitioners, and
2) whether or not conventional ethnographic accounts seek mastery.
The two things are related, although I think the second is maybe harder to answer than the first.
The first raises questions such as, “How often do we hear the voices of Voudoun practitioners without it being sorted into analytical categories?” or “how conveniently does her case fit with contemporary ethnographic metanarratives about ritual?”
The second question is of course impossible to answer totally. If we could speak on behalf of all ethnographies well enough to determine what is conventional, we wouldn’t need to take this course! But it might push us to imagine what it would look like to pursue an ethnography that does not “master” its “subjects.” And then, we can ask whether Maya Deren’s work looks similar to that vision.
I appreciated how you situated this work in the larger context of scholarship on what she calls “primitive” societies. I wonder how her work of bringing legitimacy to Voudoun at the time of her writing affected the general or academic approach to the study of such cultures. I agreed that as an artist and a bit of an outsider to the traditional anthropological framework Deren was able to speak more in the language and worldview of her subjects. I wonder though if this was more in theory than in practice as I found her work a mix of rich experience-based description but also some seemly unsubstantiated claims. I enjoyed your comparisons between the book and Hindu practices. I think our class discussion could benefit from us all bringing in more examples and parallels from our respective religious backgrounds.
Excellent post, As discussed in class it is important for an ethnographer to become involved with those he or she is working with. My question with this is, did Deren become biased as she delved further into the religious experiences of the Voudoun? From what I’ve read she went from observing and participating to believing in some sense, does this eschew her work?
Aditya, I enjoyed reading your precise. I am particularly intrigued by your paragraph on liminality. What comes to mind is Deren’s discussion of the crossroads, p. 35 – do you consider this to be a liminal space as well? I would say that it is since it is “the point of access to the world of les Invisible. I would also say that this liminal space exists in certain Protestant faiths as well, i.e. Pentecostal, C.O.G.I.C., etc. However, they are not named as such.
How do these liminal spaces operate in one’s ability to perceive religious experience? Can the academic speak of such without the benefit of experience?
Thank you Aditya for your summary and comments.
This helps me continue think about the limitation that her research might have, which I raised on Lahronda’s blog. Yes, she attempts to describe their religious experience and practices using their terms and ideas. However, what would be the limitation for this kind of work? Plus, why is this work important while there are many other conventional anthropological and ethnographical study?
Younghwa, as with the others, thank you for your precise précis. As with Tala, I am glad Butticci painted a broader historical, political, and cultural picture that accentuates the similarities and differences between the African Pentecostals and Catholics in Italy. I too find his unexpected, personal experience on page 59 and his response to be quite fascinating. As with Maya Deren who wanted to participate with the Haitian Voudoun, Butticci did not. As a result, I hope we discuss this unexpected experience that may happen to any of us when we are located in different cultures observing different people.