Preface

THE task of compiling Folk-tales in West Africa—and possibly elsewhere—may either present the collector with a somewhat difficult or a peculiarly simple task, according to the modus operandi pursued by him in gathering the necessary data. On the Gold Coast, where many of its inhabitants have a good knowledge of our language, the assistance of some of these literates may readily be obtained; they may be asked to write down in English such tales as they themselves happen to know, or detailed to collect similar stories from their illiterate fellow-countrymen. If a number of such helpers be employed, a large collection of tales may be obtained in a very short time, without much effort or any necessity for special qualifications on the part of the European collector, save the simplest preliminary organization. All that the latter will then have to do is to edit the English of his various African collaborators.[1] The most that can be said for such methods is that the results are perhaps better than not having anything at all. I need not enter here into all the details as to why this should be the case. There are several factors at work which are likely to militate against the high value—from an anthropological standpoint—of folk-tales collected in this manner. Not the least of these disadvantages is that the transcribers are prone to ignore the African idiom, and to omit just those apparently trivial details which stamp these tales with individuality and make them of value to students of language and customs. Even when these Europeanized African helpers have been asked to write down the stories in the vernacular, I have noticed that, unless carefully instructed to record the actual words of the narrators, the long training in the Mission or other schools appears to have resulted in a curious uniform standard of unidiomatic expression which is not really the spoken language of the mass of the people,[2] nor the one in which these tales were originally told. I stand open to correction, but I believe that most, if not all, of the collections of Akan Folk-tales have been made in this manner.[3]

Undoubtedly the method that will give the most satisfactory results is for the trained observer to collect his stories at their source; that is, in the remoter villages, as told at night by the old folk, under the stars. The contents of the present volume have been gathered in this manner. The collection represents the gleanings, if not of “a thousand and one nights”, at least of many scores of evenings spent sitting in a circle after dark[1] in the village street or, if in the rains, in some open pato (three-walled room) with the four sides of the gyase kesie (big courtyard) of the compound thronged with villagers gathered under the dripping eaves to hear and to relate these tales. After an evening’s story-telling, the best tale would be noted, and the story-teller asked to come to me later on, when the tale would be repeated, written down, and finally read over for correction. The only editing done has been in an attempt to record the originals in a more or less uniform dialect. The stories were collected in areas widely apart—comprising, indeed, most of Ashanti and south into Kwawu.[2] Slight variations in dialect were therefore not uncommon. Occasionally, also, I have altered a tense in the English translation. The story-teller would often lead off in the past, and in the next sentence slip into an historic present or sometimes into a perfect tense, of which they are very fond. Otherwise the originals represent the Akan language as it is actually spoken to-day in Ashanti. In this respect they are, I believe, unique among works printed in the vernacular. I have not, for several reasons which I need not here enumerate, made any endeavour to conform to the latest fashion in vernacular spelling, and, as in all my previous volumes, have omitted diacritical marks. The student who is specially interested in these can without much difficulty make the necessary alterations in his own copy.

I have, throughout, made the English translation as nearly literal as possible. At this point one meets a certain difficulty in a conflict between a desire for accuracy and an endeavour to give a translation acceptable to English ears. Where an editor has not been tied down by a vernacular text, it is easy to slur over difficulties in translation and to dress such tales so that they seem to run smoothly. The discords that seem inevitable in a more careful transla-

tion are, however, I think, frequently one of the chief charms and most happy claim to originality in these tales. At any rate, they are certainly more valuable than harmonies in diction and English idioms which the illiterate African could never have conceived, and have marred so many pseudoAfrican collections of Folk-tales.

There are at least three important lines of research in connexion with this subject which I think have never been adequately explored, or at any rate, judged by my own local experience, correctly explained.

The first of these relates to the origin of many of these tales; that is, to the question as to how far they may be considered as native to Ashanti and the Gold Coast.

The second line of inquiry is into the reason for the apparent vulgarity and coarseness of some of the stories. This is a point which, I believe, has hitherto been wholly overlooked.

The third interesting feature is the general use of animal names in those tales which seem otherwise wholly concerned with the lives and actions of human beings. In such cases one would perhaps expect persons, and not animals, to be the dramatis personae.[1]

I shall endeavour briefly to throw some new light on each of these interesting local problems in turn, which I trust will stimulate further research into similar questions in other parts of the world.

(1) The Possible Origin of Ashanti Folk-tales.—If we exclude those other divisions of Folk-lore which include legend and saga, and confine ourselves more particularly to that branch of the subject which is sometimes classified under the Teutonic name of Märchen, we are immediately confronted with the remarkable similarity between many of these Akan-Ashanti tales and stories found in localities far distant from the Gold Coast, and among peoples of a different race.

I am of the opinion that in such cases, to ascribe parochial, tribal, or even national limitations and independent local origins to these tales is a mistake. I think the similarity to which I refer cannot be accounted for on the supposition that the human mind has reacted independently in different lands, in a like manner, to some common stimulus. In nearly all such cases, I believe the similarity in the tales to be due to a common origin. I am further of the opinion—and here I depart from a view sometimes held—that, of all the

departments of Folk-lore—using the word in its widest sense to include also customs and beliefs—nowhere are outside influences more likely to be made manifest than in the realm of story-telling. A tale told in one part of Africa may well eventually reach a remote area—remodelled, it is true, and recast again and again in translation, but always clearly recognizable in each of its many variations. A Folk-tale will spread thus until it finds its way across a continent and over seas dividing continents. Slavery in West Africa, both as an indigenous institution and much later in the degraded form it took under the impetus given to the trade by Europeans, was, I think, a very important factor in the dissemination of Folk-tales.[1]

Much new “literature”, so to speak, and many a fresh plot, found their way into Ashanti owing to this cause. I believe that when a study comes to be made of the Folk-lore of the northern tribes in the hinterland of the Gold Coast, tales very similar to many of those found in this volume will then be recorded. Some eighteen years ago I made and published a collection of Hausa Folk-lore.[2] On reading through these volumes again, it is impossible not to be struck with the marked similarity between these Hausaland tales and many of the stories now presented.

To suggest that the bases of many Akan-Ashanti tales are not indigenous is not in any way to detract from their special value as indexes of the character, psychology, local customs, and beliefs of the people who narrate them. Every tribe and every nation which has in turn borrowed such stories not only relates them in a new dialect or in a new language but also alters them to conform with its own peculiar outlook upon life.[3] I suppose I have listened to most of the tales contained in this volume at least three or four times, in areas widely apart, and related by men and women of different tribes. The same tale was never quite the same, although always clearly recognizable: the personality of the story-teller and local circumstances in each case influenced the telling. If this be so in the case of different men and women of the same race, it is little wonder that the national mentality of two quite distinct races will also cause a borrowed story to be recast, and a borrowed plot to be placed in a new setting. In each case, however, the final presenta-

tion will mirror more or less accurately the ideas of the people and their general outlook upon life, conduct, and morals.

(2) The Reason for the Apparent Coarseness in so many Akan Folk-tales.—I think it may possibly come as a surprise to many students, whose only introduction to Akan Folk-lore has been through the medium of the emasculated examples which have been published from time to time, to learn that—what we might at first sight be inclined to term—needless vulgarity, coarseness or even indecency often was, and still is, one of its minor characteristics. The reason for the prevailing ignorance of this fact is explained by what was written in the beginning of this preface. It has been stated already that the European collectors of these tales, being generally ignorant of the language, were in consequence dependent for their data upon literate Africans trained since childhood in the environment of some Mission School. It was only natural, perhaps, that such persons should look askance at tales which clearly seemed thoroughly improper, whether judged by their own new and foreign standards or by the general principles of conduct of their own illiterate countrymen. The tendency was therefore to exclude such tales or to expurgate the offending portions. Even where the European may have been made aware, by chance, of the existence of such “improper” tales, he seems to have considered it his duty to bowdlerize his material. Here we have the explanation, perhaps, why a very striking anomaly has hitherto passed without notice or comment—I refer to the peculiarity presented by a people normally decorous in speech and conduct, whose Folk-tales nevertheless often contain the most Rabelaisian passages, who would yet consider it highly improper to relate these passages if divorced from the occasion and context in which they are nightly publicly paraded.

To any one who has lived among and known these people intimately, it is not sufficient to account for this by merely ascribing it to the laxity in speech or conduct which is often popularly, but wrongly, supposed to be the attribute of so-called “primitive” peoples. As I have already stated, such is, indeed, very far from being the general standard of conduct indulged in, or tolerated by, local public opinion, which is very strict in such matters. Engrossed as I have been for several years in other branches of anthropological research, I have had to be content to remain vaguely conscious of the phenomenon to which I refer, without seeking for an explanation of it. My state of mind regarding the facts now under review was for long very similar to that I once held on the subject of the wanton “atrocities” of which the Ashanti had always stood accused. Concerning these, I had come instinctively to feel that extenuating circumstances, of which we were ignorant, possibly existed, which would explain how a fine people (whom an unbiased observer had once described as being “the most civil and well bred” he had seen in Africa)[1] came to be guilty of such deeds. That such a supposition was well founded, readers of Religion and Art in Ashanti will now be aware.[2] With regard to these Folk-tales, which contain passages which to an Ashanti would ordinarily be strictly taboo, these facts should be noted: (a) These tales are only permitted to be told after dark.[3] (b) The story-teller invariably precedes his tale with a public disclaimer that what he is about to say is true; he will say: “We don’t really mean to say so; we don’t really mean to say so.” (c) Subjects ordinarily regarded as sacred, e.g. the Sky-god, the lesser gods, fetishes, spirit ancestors, the sick, chiefs, sexual matters, appear to be treated as if profane, and sometimes even tend to become the subject of ridicule.

It becomes apparent, therefore, that a period of licence seems to exist on such occasions. That this, indeed, is not mere inference, but can be proved to be actually the case, may be seen from the following:

During some story-telling evenings, between the various tales, and often, indeed, in the very middle of a story, actors will sometimes enter the circle and give impersonations of various characters in the stories. In this connexion I have seen inimitable representations of an old woman dressed in rags and covered with sores;[4] a leper; a priest with an attendant carrying the shrine of his god; an accouchement, with midwives in attendance, who from time to time adjured their patient to confess with whom she had committed adultery, lest she should die;[5] a case of theft, referred by the elders to the nkontwuma man.[6]

These impersonations are extremely realistic and clever and, like the stories, call forth roars of laughter from all who witness them. On one occasion—it was in connexion, I think, with a sketch depicting an old man covered with yaws[7]—I asked some one seated beside me if people habitually laughed at persons inflicted by Nyame (the Sky-god) in this way, and I suggested it was

unkind to ridicule such a subject. The person addressed replied that in everyday life no one might do so, however great the inclination to laugh might be. He went on to explain that it was so with many other things: the cheating and tricks of priests, the rascality of a chief—things about which every one knew, but concerning which one might not ordinarily speak in public. These occasions gave every one an opportunity of talking about and laughing at such things; it was “good” for every one concerned, he said. Following up this extraordinarily interesting explanation, I discovered that it was also a recognized custom in olden times for any one with a grievance against a fellow villager, a chief, or even the King of Ashanti, to hold him up to thinly disguised ridicule, by exposing some undesirable trait in his character—greed, jealousy, deceit—introducing the affair as the setting to some tale. A slave would thus expose his bad master, a subject his wicked chief. Up to a point the story-teller was licensed. He took care, moreover, to protect himself by a public declaration to the effect that what he was about to say was just make-believe. He also, my informants stated, avoided the use of personal names. The King of Ashanti or a great chief might become Nyame, the Sky-god; another character be described as “the Spider”, all other actors in the real drama also bearing animal names. This brings me to my last heading, but before passing on to it, I would like to point out that the explanation of this particular feature in Akan Folk-lore is in keeping with certain facts with which we are now familiar.

We have seen a similar idea carried even farther at the Apo ceremony—that period of “perfect lampooning liberty” noted by the Dutch historian of the Gold Coast two hundred years ago.[1] Again, on the enstoolment of a new chief, the Wirempefo, for a brief spell, are at liberty to curse, abuse, and assault any member of the family of the ruling clan whom they happen to encounter. Yet again, among the Kwawu (a branch of the Ashanti Mampon), just before a chief is finally enstooled, any of the populace who may wish to do so may mildly assault the chief-designate. Upon this they will meditate with contentment on some future date when such satisfaction is denied to them. There is also a custom known as bo akutia—a kind of vituperation by proxy. This consists in an aggrieved person arranging with a friend to accompany him to the house of e.g. a chief who has offended him, but of whom he is afraid. The man and his companion then pretend to have a violent quarrel. In the altercation which ensues, the former will assail the latter with every

kind of abuse, all this taking place in the presence of the chief against whom one of the parties has the grievance, and against whom all this raillery is subtly directed. Having thus relieved his pent-up feelings, the offended one professes to feel much better. These interesting customs prove, I think, beyond a doubt, that West Africans had discovered for themselves the truth of the psycho-analysts’ theory of “repressions ’, and that in these ways they sought an outlet for what might otherwise become a dangerous complex. This is a discovery which should be of some value to us in all our dealings with them.

(3) The Use of Animal Names in Ashanti Folk-tales.—It is true there are certain stories which introduce us to animals, which may possibly be what the late Sir E. B. Tylor would call “animal myths pure and simple”. The context in these tales was probably suggested by existing beliefs concerning clan totemism. Again, there are the aetiological myths which possibly were not originally intended as apologues. The majority of these “Beast fables”, however, are apologues, and I am inclined to believe (and in this, to agree with my African informants) that the custom of using animal names in these was originally due to the causes which I have now described. The names of animals, and even that of the Sky-god himself, were substituted for the names of real individuals whom it would have been very impolitic to mention. Later, no doubt, such a mild expose in the guise of a story often came to be related qua story. The original practice is still resorted to, however, in order to expose some one whom the offended party fears to accuse more openly, or to escape the African law regarding tale-bearing and libel.

The beasts and birds and fishes and insects which masquerade as human beings in these tales were not, however, selected haphazard. They were chosen with all the cleverness and insight into their various characteristics which one would expect from a nation of hunters and dwellers with nature. Close observation soon shows that wild animals appear to share many of the qualities possessed by human beings.

I realize, of course, that in accepting the above explanation to account for the general use of animal names in Folk-tales of this part of Africa, I am likely to be accused of having fallen into the old error of “confusing allegory and pure myth”, and of reading the former into the latter when it does not exist. A quarter of a century of intimate association with so-called “primitive” peoples has made it impossible for me, however, to accept a suggestion which has perhaps been too readily accepted as proven fact, the suggestion, namely, that in these so-called “Beast-tales” the “savage” makes animals speak and act like human beings[1] because “his mind seems unable to grasp the difference in kind” between animals and himself. This explanation, at any rate so far as this part of Africa is concerned, is not, I think, the correct one.

With regard to the classification of these stories, it will be observed that the majority of them fall under one or other of the well-known headings: drolls and cumulative tales; apologues or tales with a moral; aetiological stories, accounting for physical characteristics in men and beasts, e.g. How the Leopard became Spotted; etymological tales, e.g. How the Ram came to be called Odwanini. Each and all of the stories in this volume would, however, be classed by the Akan-speaking African under the generic title of “Anansesem” (Spider stories), whether the spider appeared in the tale or not. There is a clear distinction in the mind of the West African between all such tales, ostensibly told in public for amusement, and those other records which the European also classes as Folk-lore, but which are regarded by the African as falling into a totally different category. I refer to the historical myths, which—unlike these Marchen—are the sacred and guarded possession of a few selected elders of a tribe. Such historical myths are, indeed, the “Old Testament” of the African.”[2]

Besides the broad classification into apological, aetiological, eponymous, &c., it would be possible again to subdivide the tales into other categories well known to us in European Folk-lore, e.g. one is reminiscent of the Gelert type; another of the Flight from witchcraft type; another of the Jason type; another of the Bride wager type; another of the Beast, Bird, Fish type; another of the Language of animals type, and so on.

My preface is already longer than I had intended, but there is just one other observation I would like to make. In this volume the Akan-Ashanti people disclose themselves to us at their worst, no less than at their best. It is, I think, a remarkable self-revelation. Read in conjunction with what has previously been written concerning their Law and Constitution, their Religion and their Art, the survey[3] which this book now finally completes will help, I trust, to

reveal to the Western peoples a vision at least of what, perhaps, I may be permitted to describe as “the soul of an African people”.

With reference to the illustrations which adorn this volume, I leave Mr. Stevens to describe how they came into being. I wish to thank him most sincerely for the whole-hearted enthusiasm which he not only showed, but inspired in, the young Africans who have produced such remarkable specimens of West African art. To these young artists of Achimota, I also beg to express my sincere thanks and admiration of their work. I am again greatly indebted to the Clarendon Press for assistance in the publication of this volume, and to Sir Henry New for correcting the proofs while I was in Africa.

R. S. R.

April 1930.