Notes
PROLOGUE THE MASK AS METAPHOR
1. Mann 1957, 12-13.
2. Jacobsen 1976, 4-5.
3. Campbell 1986, 69.
4. Most recent scholarship, unlike that of the past, considers pre-Columbian Mesoamerica a single civilization made up of closely related cultures sharing a body of basic beliefs and a single mythological tradition. As Schele and Miller put it, "the societies identified as Mesoamerican share . . . the sense of a common cultural origin—in much the same sense that most Europeans think of themselves as the natural inheritors of Greek and Roman civilization" (1986, 9). And Hammond, discussing the specifically religious art of the Maya, cites "the existence of an overall Mesoamerican religious oikumene within which the Maya, Aztec, and even Olmec gods and cults were regional variants" (1982, 273).
5. Paz 1978, 18.
6. Tennyson, "Ulysses," lines 19-20.
7. Gingerich (1987, 102) makes a fascinating point regarding our understanding of the thought of the ancient cultures we study: "I take it as axiomatic that we—Western, neo-Platonic, Judeo-Christian rationalists—cannot simply by an act of will and intention 'open our minds' to the weltanschauung of the Nahua traditions, or of any genuinely indigenous American tradition. . . . I also, however, assume that communication, understanding, valid hermeneutical activity are possible, once we have found within ourselves and our own traditions the sets of terms or instrumentalities needed to enact the self-revelation which are the preconditions for discovering vital correspondences between our own history, our own ontology, and those of the Nahuas." For Gingerich, "Heidegger serves as such an instrumentality." Similarly, we have found in the work of a number of nineteenth- and twentieth-century artists ways of approaching reality that are remarkably similar to those of the cultures we study. Since their mode of artistic expression is somewhat more accessible to "Western" minds, we occasionally referred to their works. Clearly, we do not believe that Hermann Hesse or Walt Whitman, for example, were any more directly influenced by Mesoamerican thought than Heidegger.
8. Ruz Lhuillier 1973, 202.
9. Grieder 1982, 6.
10. V. Turner 1974, 25.
11. Westheim 1965, 44-45.
1 The Mask as the God
1. Watts 1963, 7.
2. Leach 1979, 158.
3. León-Portilla 1980, 182, 186.
4. Durán 1971, 72-73.
5. Seler n.d.a, 42.
6. Townsend 1979, 36.
7. Sahagún 1950-1978, bk. 3:3-4.
8. Durán 1971, 73.
9. Townsend 1979, 36.
10. Caso 1958, 91.
11. See Alexander 1964, 61.
12. H. Nicholson 1971a, 426.
13. Durán 1971, 70-72.
14. Soustelle 1961, 97.
15. Lévi-Strauss 1966, 54.
16. Durán 1971, 73.
17. For these variations, see Sahagún 1950-1978, bk. 3, pl. 3; Codex Borbonicus 34; and Codex Magliabechiano 43.
18. Westheim 1965, 96.
19. Sahagún 1950-1978, bk. 1:3.
20. H. Nicholson 1971a, 426.
21. Caso 1958, 33, 39.
22. Matos Moctezuma 1987, 189.
23. Pasztory 1987, 460.
24. Lévi-Strauss 1966, 95.
25. Watts 1960, 7.
26. Lévi-Strauss 1966, 131.
27. See Kubler 1970 and 1973b; and see H. Nicholson
1976b for a particularly good response to Kubler's objections.
28. Even Kubler would seem to agree; see Kubler 1967, 9.
29. There may well be far earlier prototypes. Gimbutas's study of myths and cult images in Old Europe from 6500 to 3500 B.C. reveals very similar mask symbolism, and she says, for example, that "supernatural powers . . . were given form as masks, hybrid figures and animals, producing a symbolic, conceptual art not given to physical naturalism. The primary purpose was to transform and spiritualize the body and to surpass the elementary and corporeal" (1982, 38). The striking similarities between these conceptions and those of Mesoamerica suggest a prototype in the shamanic tradition from which they both spring.
30. M. Covarrubias 1957, 60.
31. Ibid., 58.
30. M. Covarrubias 1957, 60.
31. Ibid., 58.
32. Bernal 1969a, 66.
33. Joralemon 1976, 33.
34. de la Fuente 1981, 89.
35. Pohorilenko 1977, 14.
36. A great deal of that art and the art of subsequent cultures is dynastic, but even the portrayals of rulers are essentially religious, as we will argue below, since they are identified with supernatural powers through mask and costume. These depictions make clear the religious nature of what we, but not the Olmecs, would call secular power.
37. Many scholars (e.g., Grove 1984) see them as portraits.
38. It has become popular among scholars to attribute to the Olmecs a myth that explains the were-jaguar as the issue of the sexual union of a male jaguar and a human female, a view often supported by interpreting three quite fragmentary and, in their present damaged state, quite enigmatic Olmec sculptures as depicting that copulation. As we argue below, these sculptures are more plausibly interpreted in other ways, and, whatever their interpretation, there is no warrant in later Mesoamerican thought for a theory that sees human-animal sexual union as creating the gods. The evidence of Olmec art points, rather, to the "unfolding" process we will delineate in the second section. Not only would that theory explain the large number of "gods" but it also easily accommodates the constant suggestion of quadriplicity in Olmec art as well as the gradual progression from "monstrous" conceptions to human ones noted by Bernal. Modern scholars would perhaps be well advised to study existing myths, both visual and verbal, rather than trying to create them.
39. See Schele and Miller 1986, 69, for the Maya practice.
40. de la Fuente 1981, 94.
41. Soustelle 1984, 151.
42. This uncertainty can be seen even in the identification of the gods depicted on the major monuments of Tenochtitlán. The central face on the so-called Calendar Stone, for example, was long thought to be that of Tonatiuh, the sun, but it has recently been argued that it is Tlaltecuhtli, the earth monster (Townsend 1979, 63-70; Pasztory 1983, 170) or Yohualtecuhtli, the night sun (Klein 1976, 184185). Similarly, the monumental Coatlicue, it is now argued, may represent the tzitzimime (Pasztory 1983, 160) or Tlaltecuhtli (Broda 1987a, 243).
43. As we will explain below, several scholars would disagree: Bernal (1969a) sees the were-jaguar as associated with fertility rather than rain, Peter Furst (1981) and Kennedy (1982) see were-toads rather than were-jaguars, Stucker and others (1980) see were-crocodilians, and Luckert (1976) sees were-snakes.
44. Joralemon 1976, 45, fig. 13e.
45. This is a chancy procedure as we possess only a small fragment of the total number of Olmec works, and other combinations are always possible. In addition, a number of pieces we do have come from pot-hunters rather than controlled excavations, and their authenticity is often open to doubt.
46. L. Parsons 1980, 47.
47. One explanation of the meaning of the cleft arises from the possibility of real babies having really cleft heads—the medical term is Spina bifida (see, e.g., Coe 1965c, 752)—and another from the real appearance of a cleft—actually a furrow—on the head of actual jaguars (see, e.g., Bernal 1969a, 72). Unfortunately, this sort of "explanation" ignores the clearly symbolic nature of this category of Olmec art. Even if the Olmecs did copy "real" life, we would still have to discover why those particular aspects of reality were chosen to be copied; there is a significant difference between the source of an idea and its meaning. In this instance, the proposed sources of the symbolic detail do not suggest a meaning that helps us to understand the symbolic meaning of the figures on which it appears.
48. P. Furst 1981, 151, 156.
49. Grove argues that they are much later (1984, 167).
50. Gay 1972, 29; and see our discussion below of Cleft in the Popol Vuh.
51. It is fascinating in this connection that the recently discovered Naj Tunich cave in Guatemala contains both child burials and the most graphic representation of sexual intercourse yet discovered in Maya art.
52. These various interpretations are offered in P. Furst 1981; Kennedy 1982; Stucker and others 1980; Grove 1984, 126; and Luckert 1976.
53. See Clewlow 1974, 102.
54. Grove 1984, 50.
55. Vogt 1969, 387.
56. Gay 1972, 73-82.
57. Grove 1984, 116.
58. Diehl 1981a, 73-74.
59. Coe 1973, 9.
60. Rue 1968, 159.
61. Ibid., 167.
62. Ibid., 159.
60. Rue 1968, 159.
61. Ibid., 167.
62. Ibid., 159.
60. Rue 1968, 159.
61. Ibid., 167.
62. Ibid., 159.
63. Seler n.d.a, 6.
64. Rue 1968, 164-165.
65. M. Covarrubias 1944, 26.
66. Vivó Escoto 1964, 193-195.
67. Ibid., 213.
66. Vivó Escoto 1964, 193-195.
67. Ibid., 213.
68. Rue 1968, 164.
69. Sahagún 1950-1978, bk. 2: 2, 44.
70. J. E. S. Thompson 1970, 181.
71. Bernal 1969a, 100-101; and see M. Robertson 1983, 18, for an indication of the divinity of dwarves at Palenque.
72. Clewlow 1970, Pl. I.
73. Joralemon 1976, fig. 9gl.
74. The sarcophagus has been destroyed (Kubler 1984, 120), and the drawings of it which exist vary widely in their depiction of symbolic details. We use the drawing of Miguel Covarrubias (1957, 70), as does Kubler, since it seems likely to be most authoritative and since he does not "fill in" details where the erosion of the monument effaced the original relief carving.
75. See Coe and Diehl 1980 a , 363.
76. The attitudes of scholars toward this relationship changes with the times, perhaps indicating that our own preoccupations indicate what part of the Mesoamerican elephant we will "see"—today's emphasis (see, e.g., Pasztory 1983; Schele and Miller 1986; Flannery and Marcus 1983a) is on secular power, while yesterday's (Eric Thompson's studies of the Maya are a good example of the type) emphasized spiritual power. What tomorrow will bring is difficult to predict, but the lesson seems clear. If we are to see the Mesoamerican conception whole, we must realize that for Mesoamerica, power was both spiritual and profane; the one complemented the other as the world of the spirit complemented the world of nature. Each would have been literally inconceivable to the Mesoamerican mind without the other. H. B. Nicholson discusses the current underestimation of the importance of religious matters in pre-Columbian Mesoamerica nicely (1976c).
77. Sahagún 1950-1978, bk. 6:48; the words are those of Sahagún's informants and thus refer to the Aztec practice, but the concept of the ruler being responsible for the welfare of the ruled is Pan-Mesoamerican.
78. D. Tedlock 1985, 84.
79. Ibid., 163-164.
78. D. Tedlock 1985, 84.
79. Ibid., 163-164.
80. Edmonson 1971, 146.
81. D. Tedlock 1985, 165-167.
82. Geertz 1983, 124.
83. Grove 1984, 158.
84. Grove and Gillespie 1984, 29-33.
85. The theme of domination is probably also depicted on the monuments supposedly depicting jaguar-human copulation—Rio Chiquito Monument I, Laguna de los Cerros Monolito 20, and Potrero Nuevo Monument 3. For the most compelling argument for seeing these monuments as depicting domination, see Drucker 1981, 45. Davis 1978 makes a similar case.
86. See, e.g., Grove 1981, 66.
87. Coe and Diehl 1980a, 392.
88. Ibid., 392.
87. Coe and Diehl 1980a, 392.
88. Ibid., 392.
89. M. Covarrubias 1957, 83.
90. Soustelle 1984, 81.
91. M. Covarrubias 1957, 83.
92. Coe 1977, 80.
93. For a detailed consideration of the connection between the trade routes and the development of the rain god throughout Mesoamerican history, see García-Barcena 1972.
94. Pires-Ferreira and Flannery 1976, 286.
95. Grove 1984, 162-163.
96. See, for example, Wilkerson 1981 on the northern Gulf coast, Paradis 1981 and Griffin 1981 on Guerrero, and Flannery 1976b and Flannery and Marcus 1983a on Oaxaca. But Lowe 1981 hints that San Isidro, Chiapas, may be an Olmec site outside the heartland.
97. Drucker 1981, 46.
98. Drennan 1983b, 49.
99 . Grove 1984, 160.
100. Paradis 1981, 201.
101. Coe 1965b, 122.
102. Drennan 1976, 358.
103. Flannery and Marcus 1983d, 74.
104. Marcus 1983b, 144.
105. Boos 1966, 17.
106. See, e.g., Marcus 1983b and Sharp 1981, 10.
107. Drennan and Flannery 1983, 70.
108. Paddock 1983a, 98.
109. Miguel Covarrubias, from whose collection the urn came, described it as "a typical rain-god vase with an 'Olmec' jaguar-god mask in front with a bifurcated tongue that probably represents lightning" (1957, 145). Caso and Bernal (1952, 365) also identify the feline features of the early Cocijo representations as Olmec.
110. It has been argued that the snake symbolism was there from the beginning. The very fact that all of the Classic period rain gods include snake symbolism is itself powerful evidence for such an O1mec prototype. Except for the dubious case of the La Venta sarcophagus, however, we find no clear evidence of the Olmec inclusion of the snake in the symbolic structure of the rain god.
111. Leigh 1970, 257.
112. Caso and Bernal 1952, fig. 27. Leigh 1970 gives a full account of this matter.
113. Seler n.d.a, 73.
114. See, e.g., Seler 1963, 1:259.
115. Zimmer 1962, 75. Interestingly, Zimmer discusses here the coupling of eagle and serpent in Indian thought; a similar coupling played a large role in Mesoamerican mythological thought.
116. Sahagun 1950-1978, bk. 2:213.
117. Pasztory 1983, 234.
118. M. Robertson 1983, 17-18.
119. Ibid., 35.
118. M. Robertson 1983, 17-18.
119. Ibid., 35.
120. V. Turner 1979, 237. Considerations of liminality play a large role in our discussion of Mesoamerican spiritual thought in the second section of this study as well as in our consideration of the role of the mask in ritual below.
121. See, e.g., Leach 1979, 157.
122. Seler n.d.a, 73.
123. Ruz Lhuillier 1970, 27.
124. Marcus 1983b, 146.
125. See Flannery 1983a, 132, and Kubler 1984, 165.
126. M. Covarrubias 1957, 150-151.
127. See Paddock 1970b, 127, and 1983b, 172-174, as well as Caso and Bernal 1965, 884, for a detailed consideration of this influence.
128. Marcus, Flannery, and Spores 1983, 38.
129. Flannery 1983a, 134.
130. Marcus 1983a, 91.
131. See, e.g., Caso and Bernal 1952, figs. 54 and 55.
132. von Winning 1976, 145-151.
133. H. Nicholson 1976b, 168.
134. von Winning 1976, 143.
135. Masks of Tlaloc or related masks are found on Maya stelae, Monte Albán urns, and reliefs at El Tajin. This is not to say that Tlaloc was central to the thought or symbolism of those areas, but it is a significant indication of the symbolic importance at Teotihuacán of that mask that the widespread influence of Teotihuacán in Classic period Mesoamerica is often indicated by its presence.
136. Davies 1977, 58.
137. Ibid., 97.
136. Davies 1977, 58.
137. Ibid., 97.
138. Who the original builders of Teotihuacán were is still unclear, although scholars generally feel, on the basis of very little evidence, that they were the peoples, probably Nahua, of the early village cultures of the area.
139. Piña-Chan 1971, 167.
140. Bernal 1969a, 137.
141. Grove 1972, 57.
142. Although the Oxtotitlán mask is close in its resemblance, it may be contemporary with Teotihuacán; see Pasztory 1976, 131n. Grove seems to have changed his mind about the identity of the Chalcatzingo face, now seeing it as a ruler rather than a representation of Tlaloc (1984, 122), and it is illustrative of the difficulties in interpreting Preclassic art that Brundage sees the same face as ''Tlaloc's prototype, if not the fully formed god himself'' (1982, 149).
143. See M. Covarrubias 1957, 60; and see Pasztory 1974, 15, on the symbolic use of "goggle" eyes on non-Tlaloc images.
144. von Winning 1976, 150.
145. Pasztory 1974, 4.
146. Kubler 1967, 9.
147. Pasztory 1974, 6.
148. The Ozymandian implications of the remnants of the destruction of that magnificent city were clearly not lost on the Aztecs.
149. Millon 1981, 213.
150. Séjourné 1976, 98.
151. Kubler 1967, 5-6.
152. Séjourné, in what has proven to be a highly controversial reading of the art of Teotihuacán (Donald Robertson calls her work "somewhat unorthodox" [1963, 118, n. 23] and Kubler sees it as a search for a "magic key" to an understanding of that art [1967, 3]), a significant proportion of which she excavated, interprets an image from a mural at Tetitla which depicts a ritual performer wearing a buccal mask from whose hands flow streams of water filled with small images of objects as "a deity creating the world of forms, which are seen pouring from his hands" (1976, 176). Although we would interpret this particular image differently, Séjourné's interpretation captures the essential spiritual conception underlying the art of Teotihuacán.
153. See Pasztory 1976, 133.
154. Pasztory 1974, 9.
155. Seler 1963, 1:257-258.
156. It might be objected that this is not necessarily an Aztec conception as we are not certain of the prove nience of the Codex Borgia, but it contains images identical to those in Aztec art and has long been used by scholars to interpret that art.
157. Séjourné 1966, 278.
158. Pasztory 1974, 7.
159. Although it differs from the Olmec and Zapotec and Maya systems iconographically and in its emphasis on painting rather than stone or ceramic sculpture and relief carving, the art of Teotihuacán depicts a symbolic system of spiritual thought identical in structure to those other Mesoamerican systems—a fact that implies a common Olmec source and ongoing communication on a profound level with the cultures of Monte Albán and the Maya. A great deal of evidence of that communication has been dealt with in recent years, including the existence of a Zapotec barrio at Teotihuacán, a significant amount of Teotihuacán symbolism, presumably related to the visits of Teotihuacán dignitaries, at Monte Albán and among the Maya, a virtual replica on a smaller scale of Teotihuacán at Kaminaljuyú, and a long list of similarities in the symbolic vocabularies of the three cultures.
160. Although we agree with Pasztory's identification of the essential Tlaloc mask, we differ profoundly from her in her division of the Tlalocs at Teotihuacán into two rigid categories. She designates the Codex Borgia type as Tlaloc A and on the basis of a single image, sees it as iconographically related, through Izapan art, to the crocodile. The image she sees as the only other Tlaloc, her Tlaloc B, has a bifurcated tongue and is derived from the Olmec were-jaguar (1974, 7-10). As our analysis indicates, we see a shading of one Tlaloc into another rather than a clear separation of two (or more) types. As we will demonstrate, there are images that blend her two types as well as images that fit neither category but that are Tlalocs. It must be remembered that we have but a tiny fraction of the number of Tlaloc images that must have existed, which should argue caution in building rigid structures.
161. Pasztory 1974, fig. 5
162. Séjourné 1969, 114-115, 267.
163. Kubler 1967, fig. 1; Coe 1977, fig. 26.
164. Pasztory 1976, fig. 79; Séjourné 1969, 270.
165. Sheppard 1972, pl. 241; Kubler 1967, fig. 41.
166. Acosta 1964, fig. 58; and see Séjourné 1969, 194.
167. Clearly, our choice of a particular image of the Teotihuacán Tlaloc as a "central image" is just that—our choice. One could probably make a case for other Tlaloc images, but what is important is the underlying principle of theme and variation which allows such a central image to be transformed into the various aspects of the god.
168. Pasztory 1974, 20.
169. Kubler 1967, fig. 32.
170. Kubler 1973a, fig. 7.
171. In view of the connection between the later Codex Borgia and the Teotihuacán Tlaloc, it is worth noting that Seler sees the serpent as related to sacrificial blood in the codices generally and in the Borgia particularly (1963, 1:27).
172. Kubler 1967, fig. 16.
173. Pasztory 1976, 62.
174. The identification of the painting as Tlalocan was
first made by Caso in 1942 and has since been generally accepted although some see it differently. See Pasztory 1976, 104.
175. We should make clear that our analysis is based on the reconstruction of the paintings by Villagra. There is some controversy concerning the accuracy of his reconstruction of the uppermost portion of the paintings. See Pasztory 1976, 65-66.
176. Originally identified as Tlaloc by Caso (1942), this figure has since been variously identified by later scholars as, for example, a female "cult image compounding the attributes of water, air, earth, and fire" (Kubler 1967, 10) and a fertility deity "but not Tlaloc" (Pasztory 1974, 11).
177. Séjourné 1976, 104.
178. Acosta 1964, figs. 108, 109.
179. Millon 1981, 234.
180. Séjourné 1976, 99. As Séjourné acknowledges, it is generally felt that "water and fire together, atltlachinolli , was the Mexican symbolical expression for war" (Seler 1898a, 44). Her argument (1976, 99111), central to the thesis of her book Burning Water , that the symbol must be interpreted in a far more fundamental manner is persuasive in this case, at least, in light of the complete lack of reference to war in the mural.
181. Caso 1958, 38.
182. Séjourné 1976, 104; and see Berlo 1982, 99.
183. H. Nicholson 1971b, 97-98.
184. Ibid., 100.
183. H. Nicholson 1971b, 97-98.
184. Ibid., 100.
185. Although their analyses differ from ours, a number of scholars have suggested the ultimate unity of these two seemingly different masks. Piña-Chan, for example, sees the bird-serpent as the "animal vehicle" or announcer of Tlaloc (1977, 24-26); Séjourné feels that together they symbolize "the vital impulse arising from the unification of opposing elements. . . . Like Quetzalcóatl, Tlaloc is the bearer of the luminous seed which converts matter—in this case the earth—into creative energy" (1976, 87); and Jiménez Moreno sees them as the Plumed Serpent, ''the genuine symbol of rain," and Xiuhcóatl, "emblem of drought." Together they "represent the succession of the wet and dry seasons'' (1966, 59). Coe follows this interpretation, seeing them as "sculptured Feathered Serpents [that] alternate with heads of the Fire Serpent" (1977, 92). Interestingly, Hultkranz makes precisely this point regarding the Maya: "closely related to the rain god was the wind god (God K), also depicted with some of the serpent's symbols. It is possible that he did not exist separately but only as a manifestation of the rain god" (1979, 226).
186. H. Nicholson 1971b, 98.
187. Kubler 1984, 476, n. 24.
188. Acosta 1978, 23.
189. Séjourné 1976, 102.
190. Millon 1976, 236-239.
191. Jiménez Moreno 1966, 50.
192. D. Carrasco 1982, 122.
193. Kubler 1984, 476, n. 55.
194. Seler 1963, 1:257-258.
195. Kubler, 1984, 55.
196. Piña-Chan 1977, 27.
197. Stierlin 1982, 53.
198. Jiménez Moreno 1966, 41.
199. Millon 1976, 241.
200. Diehl 1976, 260.
201. McVicker 1985, 82.
202. Kubler 1984, 68.
203. H. Nicholson 1971b, 104.
204. Kubler 1984, 73.
205. Piña-Chan argues that despite the central Tlaloc image, the stela, like the other two, depicts Quetzalcóatl "who here takes on a new form as the Lord of Time" (1977, 35). We would argue that the overall theme of the three stelae relates to sacrifice as the necessary reciprocal activity of man in the maintenance of life through fertility (Tlaloc as rain god and Quetzalcóatl as wind god) and divine order (the numerous calendrical references).
206. H. Nicholson 1982, 242; Kubler 1984, 74.
207. See McVicker 1985, 90.
208. McVicker 1985, 92-94.
209. Pasztory, for example, argues that "the Mixteca-Puebla style originated in the city-states of the Oaxaca and Puebla areas. A major center was the city of Cholula" (1983, 46). While this seems to be the generally agreed upon position, the development of the style is not at all fully understood. See H. Nicholson 1982 for a discussion of the complexities of that development.
210. H. Nicholson 1971b, 119.
211. Spores 1983a, 342.
212. See J. Furst 1978, introduction, for an example of the argument.
213. Smith 1983, 239.
214. Paddock 1970a, figs. 118, 241-243, 292.
215. M. Covarrubias 1957, 301-304.
216. H. Nicholson 1982, 241.
217. Diehl 1983, 50.
218. Davies 1977 and H. Nicholson 1976d do admirable jobs of distinguishing myth from history and explaining the implications of the symbolism of Quetzalcóatl at Tula.
219. Pasztory 1983, 222.
220. Diehl 1983, 92.
221. Ibid., pl. 13.
220. Diehl 1983, 92.
221. Ibid., pl. 13.
222. Piña-Chan 1977, fig. 51.
223. Davies 1977, 63.
224. Matos Moctezuma 1987, 206.
225. Ibid., 191.
224. Matos Moctezuma 1987, 206.
225. Ibid., 191.
226. Pasztory 1987, 459-460.
227. León-Portilla 1980, 208-209.
228. H. Nicholson 1973, 72.
229. Heyden 1987, 110.
230. González González 1987, fig. 7.
231. Bonifaz Nuño 1981, pl. 81.
232. Seler 1963, 1:86-87.
233. A number of effigy urns carved from tezontle stone were found at the first excavation level associated with the skeletal remains of sacrificed children (Román Berrelleza 1987, figs. 3-5). These share the features of the stone urn found in Offering 17 rather than the features of the ceramic urns, perhaps indicating a significant symbolic association.
234. Pasztory 1983, 222.
235. Seler 1963, 1:258.
236. H. Nicholson 1987, 465.
237. Pasztory 1983, 292.
238. Ibid., 175, pl. 141; López Austin 1987, figs. 2, 3.
237. Pasztory 1983, 292.
238. Ibid., 175, pl. 141; López Austin 1987, figs. 2, 3.
239. López Austin 1987, 262, figs. 3, 4.
240. Arguing that every different combination of symbols represents a distinct god in "Mesoamerican polytheism," López Austin (1987) concludes this is Cuecuex, an aspect of "the god of fire and of the dead," whose name means "Restless, Nervous, Agitated, Shameless and Full of Unfulfilled Desires.'' Such an analysis, we feel, misreads the nature of the Mesoamerican symbol system.
241. Bernal 1969a, 101.
242. Broda 1987a, 232.
243. J. E. S. Thompson 1970, 269.
244. Henderson 1981, 112-113.
245. Hammond 1982, 118-122.
246. Coe 1980, 47. The Olmec-Izapa-Maya transmission of the rain god is not yet fully understood. According to Hammond, "the Olmec cultural tradition dominated the region west of Tehuantepec, penetrating into the central basin of Mexico and spreading its influence east along the Pacific coast of the Maya area" (1982, 118-119), and Miles (1965b, 254-255) relates the transitional nature of some Izapan-style sculpture to the reliefs at Chalcatzingo which we have discussed. Quirarte suggests that the combination of a variety of Izapan symbolic motifs "produced the Mayan long-lipped rain deity" (1973, 33), but he later cautions that "the relationship of Izapan units of meaning to those found in the Maya area has barely been scratched" (1976, 84). And it must be noted that Izapan art is not universally seen as involved with the transition from Olmec to Maya. Soustelle, for example, says flatly that "Izapa cannot be regarded, stylistically, as being an intermediary form between Olmec and Maya sculpture" (1984, 139).
247. Benson 1981b, fig. 6.
248. Bernal 1969a, 59.
249. Joralemon 1976, 47-52.
250. Coe 1980, 55.
251. Ibid., 52.
250. Coe 1980, 55.
251. Ibid., 52.
252. Joralemon discusses the elongation of noses and lips on these masks (1974, 63).
253. Schele and Miller 1986, 84.
254. Coggins 1979, 40.
255. Schele and Miller 1986, 70-71.
256. Ibid., 76-77, pl. 2.
257. Ibid., 215. As we indicate in our discussion of this remarkable X-ray image in our consideration of the ritual mask, other scholars have identified the mask worn by Bird Jaguar with other deities.
258. Ibid., 70.
255. Schele and Miller 1986, 70-71.
256. Ibid., 76-77, pl. 2.
257. Ibid., 215. As we indicate in our discussion of this remarkable X-ray image in our consideration of the ritual mask, other scholars have identified the mask worn by Bird Jaguar with other deities.
258. Ibid., 70.
255. Schele and Miller 1986, 70-71.
256. Ibid., 76-77, pl. 2.
257. Ibid., 215. As we indicate in our discussion of this remarkable X-ray image in our consideration of the ritual mask, other scholars have identified the mask worn by Bird Jaguar with other deities.
258. Ibid., 70.
255. Schele and Miller 1986, 70-71.
256. Ibid., 76-77, pl. 2.
257. Ibid., 215. As we indicate in our discussion of this remarkable X-ray image in our consideration of the ritual mask, other scholars have identified the mask worn by Bird Jaguar with other deities.
258. Ibid., 70.
259. Hammond 1982, fig. 10.5.
260. Schele and Miller 1986, 274.
261. Robicsek and Hales 1981, 154.
262. Schele and Miller 1986, 302-305.
263. Ibid., 312.
264. Ibid., 312.
262. Schele and Miller 1986, 302-305.
263. Ibid., 312.
264. Ibid., 312.
262. Schele and Miller 1986, 302-305.
263. Ibid., 312.
264. Ibid., 312.
265. Henderson 1981, 57.
266. Coggins 1979, 38, fig. 3-1. There is some disagreement as to the precise identity of this mask. Pasztory contends that it is "not the peaceful rain god Tlaloc but the emblem of a war deity" (1974, 14). Except for its non-Tlaloc mouth, however, the mask is very much that of Teotihuacán's rain god.
267. Coggins 1979, 44-45.
268. Coggins 1980, 735.
269. Schele and Miller 1986, 213.
270. Sharp 1981, 12.
271. Ibid., 15-16.
270. Sharp 1981, 12.
271. Ibid., 15-16.
272. J. E. S. Thompson 1972 a , 27, 94.
273. J. E. S. Thompson 1970, 196.
274. Hammond 1982, 279.
275. Clancy et al. 1985, 210.
276. Coe 1973, 9; and see H. Nicholson 1973, 164-165.
277. Jacobsen 1976, 19.
278. Séjourné 1976, 130-131.
279. Campbell 1986, 44.
2 The Mask in Ritual Metaphor in Motion
1. V. Turner 1974, 259.
2. Ibid., 253.
1. V. Turner 1974, 259.
2. Ibid., 253.
3. Flannery 1976b, 329.
4. Flannery 1976a, 337.
5. van Gennep 1960, 21.
6. V. Turner 1974, 232.
7. Ibid., 242-243.
6. V. Turner 1974, 232.
7. Ibid., 242-243.
8. Shaffer 1974, 95.
9. Campbell 1986, 121.
10. Geertz 1979, 86.
11. Gill 1976, 51-52.
12. Sekaquaptewa 1976, 38.
13. Gill 1976, 53, 54-55.
14. Sekaquaptewa 1976, 36.
15. V. Turner 1974, 25.
16. Doty 1986, 86.
17. Scholars agree that the mask depicts a god but do not agree on the identity of the god. J. E. S. Thompson (1973, 68) sees it as "the God K aspect of Itzam Na" and sees the mask with the cutaway human face under it as "yet another way of proclaiming the divine right of kings"; Schele and Miller (1986, 215) identify it as Chac-Xib-Chac, the red, eastern aspect of the quadripartite Chac often associated with sacrifice and rulers; while Kubler (1969, 45) argues that it is "a sun-mask, equivalent to the kin sign," a view with which Paul (1976, 122) concurs. It is significant that each of these identifications relates the mask to rulership, and thus there is more agreement among these scholars than is immediately apparent.
18. Sahagún 1950-1978, bk. 6:42.
19. Schele and Miller 1986, 215.
20. Ibid., 44.
21. Ibid., 66.
22. Ibid., 66.
19. Schele and Miller 1986, 215.
20. Ibid., 44.
21. Ibid., 66.
22. Ibid., 66.
19. Schele and Miller 1986, 215.
20. Ibid., 44.
21. Ibid., 66.
22. Ibid., 66.
19. Schele and Miller 1986, 215.
20. Ibid., 44.
21. Ibid., 66.
22. Ibid., 66.
23. See e.g., Coe 1978, 130, pl. 20; Schele and Miller 1986, 227, pl. 92a; and Paul 1976, 126.
24. Grove 1970, 8, 31.
25. Soustelle 1984, 96; Grove 1970, 9, 10, 11, 31.
26. Although the Teotihuacán mask is probably most akin to a quetzal and the feathered horns of this mask suggest an owl (see Grove 1970, 9-11), the significant fact is that both are composite masks clearly designed to make a symbolic statement related to the provision by the gods of water rather than to depict realistically any particular avian species.
27. Schele and Miller 1986, 78, 87.
28. See Caso and Bernal 1952, fig. 421.
29. The existence of an iconographically identical seated figure, also Zapotec (L. Parsons 1980, fig. 226), suggests the symbolic importance of the figure, and another illustrated by Boos (1966, figs. 272-274) indicates the fundamentally human identity of the figure even more clearly by delineating the human hands and feet beneath those of the animal, a jaguar in this case.
30. Durán captures this conception in his description of the Aztec ritual culminating in the sacrifice of an impersonator of Tezcatlipoca when he observes that the impersonator wore "the complete attire and insignia of the deity . . . and went about honored and revered as the god himself" (1971, 126). And Hvidtfeldt, in his discussion of the representation of Tezcatlipoca in ritual, takes that statement a step further. "It is the 'image' itself," he says, ''that constitutes the 'god"' (1958, 98, 140). In his discussion of Hvidtfeldt's analysis, Townsend agrees that the terms "impersonator" or "substitute" used to translate the Nahuatl term teixiptla designating the masked ritual performers depicted in Mesoamerican art are only approximately suggestive of the close relationship between the essence of the divine spirit and the symbolic representation of it through the mask (1979, 28).
31. Easby and Scott 1970, 80.
32. Coe, for example, says that this image "is none other than the feathered serpent" (1973, 9), while Bernal, exemplifying the alternative position, says, "as I cannot distinguish feathers anywhere on this sculpture, I agree with Drucker (1952, 223) when he states that 'the feathered serpent never appears'" (1969a, 61-62). Soustelle quotes Drucker, Heizer, and Squier (1959, 199) in taking a middle position: the serpent's "head, with its gaping jaws, its eye surmounted by an elongated protuberance, like a crest, prefigures that of all the countless serpents of the pre-Columbian art of Mesoamerica. Ought we to interpret this latter feature as a plume and confer on this animal the honor of being the oldest 'Plumed Serpent' in Mexico? Let us merely say that it is 'beyond a doubt one of the meanest-looking reptiles in Mesoamerican art"' (1984, 47).
33. Milbrath 1979, 35.
34. Bernal 1969b, IV; Stierlin 1982, 78.
35. See, e.g., Pasztory 1983, pls. 142, 196, 207, 260, colorplate 45.
36. See Pasztory's discussion (1976, 118-119) and D. Carrasco (1982, 125), who identifies the headdress as a representation of Quetzalcóatl. It is important to note, however, that Séjourné sees the motif of "sowing" depicted here and elsewhere in Teotihuacán art as having a meaning that extends well beyond its obvious fertility connotations. She argues that the object-filled streams flowing from the hands "irresistibly invoke the idea of Creation: they must in fact represent the act of sowing, but a sowing in which the seeds are the whole universe of humanity. So in these scenes the gods are caught in the act of giving breath to the world of forms, of transforming their hidden reality into visible phenomena" (1976, 178). We see no necessary contradiction between her views and the narrower interpretations of such scholars as Pasztory, Carrasco, and Kubler. Significantly, her broader views fit well into the understanding of Mesoamerican spirituality, which we will develop in Part II.
37. D. Carrasco 1982, 125.
38. M. Covarrubias 1957, 150-151.
39. Kubler 1984, 165.
40. Caso and Bernal 1952, fig. 341.
41. Boos 1966, fig. 75.
42. Proskouriakoff 1950, 50.
43. Schele and Miller 1986, 66-68.
44. Ruz Lhuillier 1970, 97.
45. Stierlin 1981, 140.
46. Schele and Miller 1986, 46, 177.
47. Grove 1970, fig. 19, pp. 21-22.
48. Caso and Bernal 1952, 365-366.
49. Séjourné 1976, 178.
50. Bernal 1965, 798.
51. Coe 1978, 78, 106.
52. H. Nicholson 1973, 84-86.
53. Hvidtfeldt 1958, 125.
54. Coe 1973, 5.
55. Caso and Bernal 1952, 250.
56. H. Nicholson 1972, 214-215.
57. Seler 1963, 1:127-135.
58. H. Nicholson 1972, 217.
59. Séjourné 1976, 148-155.
60. Sahagún 1950-1978, bk. 2:46-54.
61. Paz 1987, 6.
62. D. Carrasco 1982, 70.
63. Paz 1987, 6.
64. Schele and Miller 1986, 123.
65. Millon 1976, 240.
66. Schele and Miller 1986, 103.
67. Ibid., 122.
66. Schele and Miller 1986, 103.
67. Ibid., 122.
68. Eliade 1961, 40.
69. Ibid., 39.
68. Eliade 1961, 40.
69. Ibid., 39.
70. Heyden 1975, 134.
71. Ibid., 134.
72. Ibid., 134.
70. Heyden 1975, 134.
71. Ibid., 134.
72. Ibid., 134.
70. Heyden 1975, 134.
71. Ibid., 134.
72. Ibid., 134.
73. Heyden 1976.
74. Grove 1970, 31-32.
75. Mendoza 1977, 73.
76. Grove 1984, 50.
77. Hammond 1982, 286.
78. Schele and Miller 1986, 302.
79. Hammond 1982, 255.
80. Eliade 1963, 100-101; and see Eliade 1959, 12, 15, and Huxley 1974, 170-171, for a discussion of the general concept. It is interesting in this connection that according to Eric Thompson, in the Guatemalan highlands, mountains were personified and considered deities (1966, 225).
81. Eliade 1963, 18.
82. One inevitably thinks here of the long, sinuous, dark passage through the shaft of the real cave under Teotihuacán's Pyramid of the Sun which must be traversed to reach the "center," the sancta sanctorum.
83. Eliade 1961, 51.
84. Ibid., 49.
83. Eliade 1961, 51.
84. Ibid., 49.
85. Hammond 1982, 124.
86. Coe 1980, 106.
87. Kubler 1984, 241.
88. Ruz Lhuillier 1970, 89.
89. Stierlin 1981, 134.
90. Mendoza 1977, 69-72.
91. Townsend 1982, 124.
92. Mendoza 1977, 65-66.
93. Townsend 1982, 130-137.
94. Stierlin 1982, 208.
95. Pasztory 1983, 138.
96. Freidel et al. 1982, 21.
97. Hammond 1982, 253. Reactions to the facade vary. Proskouriakoff described it as "an indiscriminate piling-up of ornament" whose "artistic effect is disappointing" (1963, 67), and Coe calls it a "rather hideous palace" (1980, 106). However, Gendrop feels that the architect ''made fascinating, what could have been monotonous" (1982, fasciculo 9:163), and Stierlin calls it "visually, one of the most fascinating in all Maya architecture" (1981, 156).
98. Stierlin 1981, 158.
99. See León-Portilla 1980, 176-177.
100. Ibid., 181.
99. See León-Portilla 1980, 176-177.
100. Ibid., 181.
101. See J. Furst 1982.
102. León-Portilla 1980, 182.
103. Kerényi 1960, 153.
104. Eliade 1976, 38.
105. Pasztory 1983, 277.
106. Tonkin 1979, 242.
107. MacNeish 1964, 425.
108. Hammond 1982, 115.
109. Aveleyra Arroyo de Anda 1964, 396.
110. Ruz Lhuillier 1965, 453.
111. Their striking realism has led Joralemon (in a personal communication with Gillett Griffin) to identify them as historical figures (Griffin 1981, 221).
112. Medellin Zenil 1971, 47.
113. Furst and Furst 1980, 22.
114. Coe 1965b, 54.
115. Henderson 1981, 125.
116. Kidder et al. 1977, 100.
117. Lowe 1981, 252.
118. Coe 1975c, 194-195; 1978, 13-14.
119. See Paul 1976, 122.
120. Ruz Lhuillier 1973, 152, 153.
121. Ibid., 205.
120. Ruz Lhuillier 1973, 152, 153.
121. Ibid., 205.
122. Ruz Lhuillier 1970, 116.
123. Ibid., 282-285.
122. Ruz Lhuillier 1970, 116.
123. Ibid., 282-285.
124. M. Robertson 1983, 56-57.
125. See, e.g., Coe 1980, 58, fig. 31; Adams 1977, 119; J. E. S. Thompson 1965a, 338, and 1966, 56.
126. Clancy et al. 1985, 105.
127. Ruz Lhuillier 1973, 105.
128. Landa 1978, 56-57. See also Krickeberg et al. 1968, 75.
129. Séjoumé 1966b, 293.
130. Krickeberg et al. 1968, 17.
131. M.Covarrubias 1957, 134.
132. Ibid., 134.
131. M.Covarrubias 1957, 134.
132. Ibid., 134.
133. Stierlin 1982, 51.
134. Westheim 1965, 142.
135. Kubler 1984, 62.
136. Westheim 1965, 143-145.
137. Stierlin 1982, 53.
138. Caso 1965b, 902.
139. M. Covarrubias 1957, 151.
140. Ibid., 151.
139. M. Covarrubias 1957, 151.
140. Ibid., 151.
141. Paddock 1970a, fig. 151.
142. Flannery 1983a, 134.
143. Caso 1970; although hesitant to concur in Caso's specific identification, Flannery also sees this as a royal burial (1983b, 291-292).
144. Moser 1975, 36.
145. Ibid., 32.
144. Moser 1975, 36.
145. Ibid., 32.
146. Moser 1983, 270-272.
147. Klein 1987, 343. See also Umberger 1987, 431.
148. Westheim 1965, 96-97.
149. Townsend 1979, 32-33.
150. León-Portilla 1980, 187.
151. Pasztory 1983, 254.
152. Pasztory (1982) questions the authenticity of three of the best known of these stone masks, the two in the British Museum and one owned by the Musée de l'Homme, on the basis of the aberrant iconographic features of the figures carved on the inside surface of the masks. She also claims that a number of existing obsidian masks are falsifications since, as Ekholm has indicated, "the Aztecs did not make large carvings out of obsidian" (see Pasztory 1983, 250).
153. Pasztory 1983, pl. 292.
154. Ibid., 277.
153. Pasztory 1983, pl. 292.
154. Ibid., 277.
155. H. Nicholson 1982.
156. Berdan 1987, 164.
157. Carmichael 1970, 12.
158. Stierlin reproduces an excellent illustration of a Mixtec skull discovered in Tomb 7 at Monte Albán (1982, fig. 99), and Bonifaz Nuño illustrates a similar skull from Offering 11 at Tenochtitlán's Templo Mayor (1981, pl. 71). Other offerings at the Templo Mayor have yielded similar skulls (Boone 1987b, 45, 52, 53).
3 Coda I: The Mask as Metaphor
1. Sahagún 1950-1978, bk. 12:11-13.
2. Ibid., 15-16. Highwater, in fascinating juxtaposition, presents five versions of this event by "several different writers from highly different cultures," including Sahagún's informant's Náhuatl account and both English and Spanish translations of it as well as Bernal Diaz's account and Prescott's. As he demonstrates, the accounts vary according to the writer's preconceptions. "We do not really comprehend what happened," he says, "unless we are in possession of the various responses to the same event" (1981, 114-117).
1. Sahagún 1950-1978, bk. 12:11-13.
2. Ibid., 15-16. Highwater, in fascinating juxtaposition, presents five versions of this event by "several different writers from highly different cultures," including Sahagún's informant's Náhuatl account and both English and Spanish translations of it as well as Bernal Diaz's account and Prescott's. As he demonstrates, the accounts vary according to the writer's preconceptions. "We do not really comprehend what happened," he says, "unless we are in possession of the various responses to the same event" (1981, 114-117).
3. Sahagún 1950-1978, bk. 12:19.
4. According to López Austin, this account is essentially native: "The Náhuatl style is unmistakable: the characteristic connectives of uninterrupted narrative abound, particularly those formed with the word auh and a verb in the preterit perfect which refers to the last thing mentioned in the previous paragraph" (1974, 148).
5. Paz 1987, 7.
4 The Shamanistic Inner Vision
1. Campbell 1983, 253.
2. Eliade 1964 a , 333.
3. P. Furst 1977, 21.
4. P. Furst 1976a, 151.
5. Neihardt 1959, 36.
6. That there is no simple cause and effect connection between the visions of Mesoamerican seers and Black Elk is clear, but while the views of the relatively contemporary Native American have a different derivation from those of ancient Mesoamerica, the fact remains that they are quite similar, indicating, perhaps, that such a view of the relationship of man and god is one of humanity's few basic formulations of that relationship and is, in that sense, universal.
7. MacNeish 1981, 34.
8. Kurath and Marti 1964, 6.
9. Soustelle 1984, 145.
10. M. Covarrubias 1957, 26-27.
11. H. Nicholson 1971a, 439.
12. P. Furst 1977, 16.
13. P. Furst 1968, 148.
14. Eliade 1964a, 174.
15. Kennedy 1982.
16. Coe 1982, 11.
17. Borhegyi 1965, 18.
18. P. Furst 1976b, 15.
19. Ibid., 73-74.
18. P. Furst 1976b, 15.
19. Ibid., 73-74.
20. Durán 1971, 115-116.
21. Landa 1978, 47.
22. Vogt 1976, 61.
23. Ibid., 61.
22. Vogt 1976, 61.
23. Ibid., 61.
24. Caso 1958, 3.
25. P. Furst 1976b, 23.
26. Townsend 1979, 35.
27. H. Nicholson 1971a, 412.
28. Coe and Diehl 1980a, 394.
29. H. Nicholson 1971a, 439.
30. Eliade 1964a, 99.
31. Ibid., 99; Caso 1958, 84.
30. Eliade 1964a, 99.
31. Ibid., 99; Caso 1958, 84.
32. Lévi-Strauss 1969, 28.
33. Eliade 1964a, 179.
34. Ibid., 94.
33. Eliade 1964a, 179.
34. Ibid., 94.
35. S. Larsen 1976, 62.
36. H. Nicholson 1971a, 440.
37. Hultkranz 1979, 233.
38. Halifax 1979, 34.
39. Townsend 1979, 9.
5 The Temporal Order
1. León-Portilla 1973, 54; Aveni 1980, 135.
2. Satterthwaite 1965, 605.
3. Brotherston 1978, 123.
4. Coggins 1980, 732.
5. Aveni 1980, 280.
6. Ibid., 257.
7. Ibid., 267-277.
8. Ibid., 222-226.
5. Aveni 1980, 280.
6. Ibid., 257.
7. Ibid., 267-277.
8. Ibid., 222-226.
5. Aveni 1980, 280.
6. Ibid., 257.
7. Ibid., 267-277.
8. Ibid., 222-226.
5. Aveni 1980, 280.
6. Ibid., 257.
7. Ibid., 267-277.
8. Ibid., 222-226.
9. Coggins 1980, 727-729.
10. See Zolbrod 1987, 30-38, for a different argument, one that derives the figure from the imagery in creation myths.
11. Aveni 1980, 226-228.
12. Caso 1971, 333.
13. Caso 1965a, 932; Coe 1980, 37; Bernal 1969a, 92-96.
14. Muser 1978.
15. Soustelle 1971, x.
16. D. Tedlock 1985, 72.
17. Ibid., 79-86.
18. Ibid., 165-167.
16. D. Tedlock 1985, 72.
17. Ibid., 79-86.
18. Ibid., 165-167.
16. D. Tedlock 1985, 72.
17. Ibid., 79-86.
18. Ibid., 165-167.
19. J. E. S. Thompson 1970, 335.
20. León-Portilla 1973, 54.
21. Bruce 1975, 99-101.
22. Beyer 1965a, 275.
23. Caso 1958, 17-18; H. Nicholson 1971a, 401.
24. León-Portilla 1969, 42-8; H. Nicholson 1971a, 431.
25. Bonifaz Nuño 1981, 43.
26. D. Tedlock 1985, 159-160.
27. J. E. S. Thompson 1970, 355.
28. Roys 1967, 76-77.
29. J. E. S. Thompson 1970, 322.
30. Coe 1980, 160.
31. Aveni 1980, 184.
32. Ibid., 85-86.
31. Aveni 1980, 184.
32. Ibid., 85-86.
33. Coe 1975b, 19.
34. Aveni 1980, 186; Hammond 1982, 292.
35. J. E. S. Thompson 1972a, 70-71.
36. Ibid., 65.
35. J. E. S. Thompson 1972a, 70-71.
36. Ibid., 65.
37. Seler 1904, 364-365.
38. Seler 1898a, 37.
39. Coe 1975a, 90.
40. Eliade 1964b, 35.
41. See ibid., 33.
40. Eliade 1964b, 35.
41. See ibid., 33.
42. J. E. S. Thompson 1966, 234.
43. Hultkrantz 1979, 275; and see details of Aztec rites, 273ff.
44. Durán 1971, 396-398.
45. J. E. S. Thompson 1966, 237.
46. Bruce 1975, 101.
47. Ibid., 102-103.
46. Bruce 1975, 101.
47. Ibid., 102-103.
48. I. Nicholson 1965, 49.
49. See Eliade 1964b, 32.
50. D. Carrasco 1982, 70.
51. P. Furst 1976a, 152.
52. J. Furst 1982, 207, 221.
53. Westheim 1965, 25.
54. Robicsek and Hales 1981, 149.
55. Ruz Lhuillier 1965, 459.
56. See Coe 1975a, 103-104.
57. León-Portilla 1980, 187.
58. Townsend 1979, 33.
59. See Hammond 1982, 286.
60. Ruz Lhuillier 1965, 459.
61. Coe 1975a, 88.
62. P. Furst 1973, 128; he contends that this practice continues today among the Huichol (131).
63. See Schele and Miller 1986, 286-289. Henderson 1981, 181, suggests that the "reliefs in the Temple of the Cross, the monument celebrating the succession of Chan Bahlum [his son, Serpent Jaguar], reaffirm this association." He also points out that in the sanctuary within the Temple of the Cross, Pacal is shown holding the sun god's head.
64. Ruz Lhuillier 1970, 117.
65. Kubler 1969, 27.
66. See Coe 1975a, 102.
67. M. Robertson 1983, fig. 145.
68. Ruz Lhuillier 1970, 118.
69. Ibid., 117.
68. Ruz Lhuillier 1970, 118.
69. Ibid., 117.
70. Westheim 1972, 17.
71. Ruz Lhuillier 1970, 114-115.
72. Ibid., 114.
71. Ruz Lhuillier 1970, 114-115.
72. Ibid., 114.
73. Schele and Miller 1986, 269.
74. Henderson 1981, 181.
75. M. Robertson 1983, 56.
76. Fernández 1969, 44-45.
77. Westheim 1965, 229.
78. Caso 1958, 54.
79. Bruce 1975, 101.
80. Campbell 1974, 160.
81. León-Portilla 1980, 267.
6 The Spatial Order
1. Eliade 1964a, 259.
2. Hunt says that "the cardinal directions were markers not simply of space, but also of time" and goes on to discuss that idea at some length (1977, 177180). Coggins makes essentially the same point (1980, 731), and see Klein 1976, 168.
3. Coe 1975b, 6.
4. J. E. S. Thompson 1970, 214.
5. Coggins 1980, 727.
6. León-Portilla 1973, 54.
7. See Coggins 1980, 728.
8. Coe 1976, 111.
9. Coggins 1980, 728.
10. Aveni 1980, 154-156.
11. Durán 1971, 359.
12. Millon 1976, 237.
13. Ibid., 226.
12. Millon 1976, 237.
13. Ibid., 226.
14. Calnek 1976, 296.
15. Townsend, 1979, 48.
16. D. Carrasco 1982, 70, places Wheatley's idea in the Mesoamerican context.
17. D. Carrasco 1982, 71.
18. Hammond 1982, 285-286.
19. Klein 1973, 80.
20. Durán 1971, 188-190.
21. Hultkranz 1979, 276-277.
22. Durán 1971, 106-107, 126-127.
23. Holland 1964, 17.
24. Eliade 1976, 50-51.
25. von Winning 1976, 149.
26. Malmstrom 1978, 114.
27. See Aveni 1980, 311-315.
28. Millon 1981, 230.
29. Flannery, Marcus, and Kowalewski 1981, 89.
30. See, for example, the discussions of V. Turner (1974, 223), Spores (1967, 23, 96), and Redfield and Tax (1968, 36).
31. V. Turner 1969, 95.
32. Heyden 1976.
33. Heyden 1975, 134.
34. Ruz Lhuillier 1970, 23.
35. Pasztory 1976, 167.
36. J. E. S. Thompson 1970, 184.
37. See Grove 1970, 31; Klein 1973, 73; Gossen 1979, 118; and Heyden 1975, 141, for discussions of this association.
38. Coe 1975a, 93; León-Portilla 1973, 82.
39. Durán 1971, 154.
40. Hunt 1977, 107-108; Heyden 1975, 134.
41. Heyden 1975, 134.
42. Miles 1965a, 285; Heyden 1975, 135.
43. See, in this connection, Miles 1965a, 279; Borhegyi 1965, 54; and Townsend 1982, 136.
44. Hammond 1982, 286.
45. Knab 1976, 127.
46. Bernal 1969a, 39.
47. Broda 1987b, 94.
48. Millon 1981, 231.
49. Heyden 1975, 131.
50. Millon 1981, 235.
51. Heyden 1975, 131.
52. Stierlin 1982, 50.
53. Heyden 1975, 131.
54. Millon 1981, 231.
55. Ibid., 234.
54. Millon 1981, 231.
55. Ibid., 234.
56. Eliade 1976, 21.
57. Millon 1981, 234.
7 The Mathematical Order
1. León-Portilla 1973, 28.
2. León-Portilla 1980, 233-236.
3. Willey, Eckholm, and Millon 1964, 460.
4. J. E. S. Thompson 1966, 14; although Thompson's view of the Maya as time worshipers has given way to a more balanced view of Maya civilization, we must not go to the other extreme. The fact remains that the Maya were concerned to a degree surely approaching obsession with the regularity of the movement of time, an essentially religious concern for them, as for all archaic civilizations, rather than historical, as it is for us.
5. Aveni 1980, 138.
6. Ibid., 148.
7. Ibid., 150.
5. Aveni 1980, 138.
6. Ibid., 148.
7. Ibid., 150.
5. Aveni 1980, 138.
6. Ibid., 148.
7. Ibid., 150.
8. B. Tedlock 1982, 93; and see P. Furst 1986, for a presentation of his own and Schultze Jena's arguments for this position.
9. Henderson 1981, 75.
10. Aveni 1980, 151.
11. Caso 1965a, 946; and see Marcus 1976, 137; and B. Tedlock 1982 for its contemporary use in divination by the highland Maya.
12. See Caso 1971, 340, and 1965a, 944-945, for a thorough study of some of the basic differences among the various versions, the latter particularly concerned with a comparison between Mexican and Zapotec and Southern Zapotec; J. E. S. Thompson 1972b, 21, notes "the common ancestry" despite specific differences of the various versions of the 260-day almanacs.
13. León-Portilla 1973, 110.
14. Satterthwaite 1965, 605.
15. Schele and Miller 1986, 320.
16. Henderson 1981, 74.
17. Paz 1974, 10.
18. J. E. S. Thompson 1972a, 7.
19. H. Nicholson 1971a, 439.
20. León-Portilla, 1973, 109.
21. Bruce 1975, 99.
22. J. E. S. Thompson 1972a, 112.
23. Hammond 1982, 285.
24. Hunt 1977, 187.
25. Ibid., 191.
24. Hunt 1977, 187.
25. Ibid., 191.
26. León-Portilla 1973, 107.
27. Flannery, Marcus, and Kowalewski discuss the extent to which the full-time priests took religion out of the hands of the commoners (1981, 80).
28. Soustelle (1961, 112) and J. E. S. Thompson (1972a, 113), for example, state the case for seeing Mesoamerican thought as absolutely fatalistic; León-Portilla (1973, 119-120) and Bruce (1975, 27), for example, suggest the existence of a system of thought that was what León-Portilla calls "far from what is normally understood as absolute fatalism."
29. Caso 1965a, 940.
30. Edmonson 1971, xv.
31. I. Nicholson 1965, 58.
32. Aveni 1980, 202.
33. Durán 1971, 389.
34. See Aveni 1980, 33.
35. Henderson 1981, 75.
36. Soustelle 1982a, 116-117.
37. Aveni 1980, 203.
38. Ibid., 143.
37. Aveni 1980, 203.
38. Ibid., 143.
39. Henderson 1981, 78.
40. Schele and Miller 1986, 320.
41. León-Portilla 1973, 13.
42. de Santillana and von Dechend 1977, 332-333.
43. Aveni 1980, 203.
44. Hesse 1970, 104-105.
8 The Life-Force Source of All Order
1. See León-Portilla 1963, for a thorough discussion of the Aztec Tlamatini and Calmécac as an essentially oral means of preserving and transmitting that speculative thought.
2. Hunt 1977, 55.
3. Beyer 1965b, 399.
4. Ibid., 398.
3. Beyer 1965b, 399.
4. Ibid., 398.
5. J. E. S. Thompson 1970, 200.
6. Caso 1958, 8.
7. Pasztory 1983, 64.
8. Hvidtfeldt 1958, 84.
9. H. Nicholson 1971a, 411.
10. I. Nicholson 1965, 60-61.
11. León-Portilla 1963, 96.
12. Sproul 1979, 8, 187-188.
13. Campbell, personal communication.
14. Campbell 1969a, 75.
15. Campbell 1986, 21.
16. Le6n-Portilla 1980, 28.
17. Sahagún 1950-1978, bk. 6:167-168.
18. Zimmer (1962, 25) makes this statement regarding Hindu thought but expresses the Mesoamerican conception marvelously well.
19. Campbell 1969b, 42n.
20. León-Portilla 1963, 87.
21. Ibid., 93.
22. Ibid., 92.
20. León-Portilla 1963, 87.
21. Ibid., 93.
22. Ibid., 92.
20. León-Portilla 1963, 87.
21. Ibid., 93.
22. Ibid., 92.
23. H. Nicholson 1971a, 424.
24. Ibid., 411.
23. H. Nicholson 1971a, 424.
24. Ibid., 411.
25. J. E. S. Thompson 1970, 203.
26. León-Portilla 1973, 26.
27. J. E. S. Thompson 1970, 212-218.
28. Ibid., 216.
27. J. E. S. Thompson 1970, 212-218.
28. Ibid., 216.
29. Marcus 1983d, 345.
30. Boos 1966, 18.
31. Joralemon 1976, 61.
32. See our analysis in chapter 1 of the god depicted on the Tlalocan mural at Tepantitla for an example of precisely such a god. Tlaloc, in contrast, is an example of a god with a far more permanent and fixed identity.
33. Caso 1958, 7.
34. Townsend 1979, 30.
35. See H. B. Nicholson 1971a, 408, and Ruz Lhuillier 1970, 120, for examples of such gods.
36. Townsend 1979, 28.
37. Paddock 1970b, 153.
38. See León-Portilla 1963, 89.
39. Hunt 1977, 55-56.
9 Transformation Manifesting the Life-Force
1. Westheim 1965, 31.
2. Sahagún 1950-1978, 41-42.
3. H. Nicholson 1971a, 413.
4. Schele and Miller 1986, 44.
5. Sekaquaptewa 1976, 39.
6. Gill 1976, 55.
7. León-Portilla 1963, 217.
8. Townsend 1979, 70.
9. H. Nicholson 1971a, 400.
10. See, e.g., H. Nicholson 1971a, 441, and Vogt 1976, 18.
11. Vogt 1976, 19.
12. Dow 1986, 62.
13. Foster 1944.
14. Miles 1965a, 284.
15. Seler 1888, 146; and see H. Nicholson 1971a, 439.
16. Colby 1976, 76; and see H. Nicholson 1971 a , 439.
17. Brundage 1982, 133.
18. Boos 1966, 17.
19. Schele and Miller 1986, 179.
20. H. Nicholson 1971 a , 402.
21. Schele and Miller 1986, 144.
22. D. Tedlock 1985, 79, 167.
23. León-Portilla 1980, 145-146.
24. J. Furst 1978, 66.
25. León-Portilla 1980, 147.
26. Caso 1958, 96.
27. Soustelle 1971, 179.
28. Durán 1971, 263.
29. Anawalt 1982 a , 44.
30. Anawalt 1982 b , 52.
31. Anawalt 1982 a , 44.
32. H. Nicholson 1971a, 431-432.
33. Durán 1971, 229-237, pl. 124; Durán's account can be profitably compared with the more detailed and complex account in Sahagún 1950-1978, bk. 2:110-116.
34. Coe 1978, 13.
35. Anawalt 1982 a , 43.
36. Schele and Miller 1986, 109.
37. Berlo 1982, 99.
38. Caso 1958, 38.
39. J. Furst 1978, 61.
40. Seler n.d. a , 82.
41. Berlo 1982, 97.
42. Seler n.d.c, 45; see also León-Portilla 1963, 126.
43. See Seler n.d.a , 83-87, for numerous examples of the many variations and frequent occurrences of the symbol.
44. León-Portilla 1980, 205-206.
45. León-Portilla 1963, 173.
46. I. Nicholson 1965, 100.
47. León-Portilla 1969, 174.
48. Campbell 1983, 10.
49. León-Portilla 1963, 77.
50. León-Portilla 1980, 244.
51. Ibid., 243.
50. León-Portilla 1980, 244.
51. Ibid., 243.
52. Whitman 1959, 25.
53. Ibid., 68.
52. Whitman 1959, 25.
53. Ibid., 68.
54. León-Portilla 1980, 210.
55. I. Nicholson 1965, 99, 155.
56. León-Portilla 1980, 210n.
57. León-Portilla 1969, 80.
10 Coda II: The Mask as Metaphor
1. See V. Turner 1974, 25.
2. Highwater 1981, 58.
3. Campbell 1968b, 4.
4. Campbell 1969a, 70.
5. Melville 1950, 161.
6. Schele and Miller 1986, 107.
11 Syncretism The Structural Effect of the Conquest
1. Horcasitas and Heyden 1971, 11.
2. Durán 1971, 152-153.
3. Ibid., 207-208.
4. Ibid., 387.
2. Durán 1971, 152-153.
3. Ibid., 207-208.
4. Ibid., 387.
2. Durán 1971, 152-153.
3. Ibid., 207-208.
4. Ibid., 387.
5. Nutini 1976, 34.
6. J. E. S. Thompson 1970, 251.
7. Villa Rojas 1973, 115.
8. Stone 1975, 27.
9. I. Nicholson (1965, 113) translates this passage from Angel Maria Garibay's Historia de la Literatura Náhuatl , 1:149.
10. Gibson 1964, 134.
11. Hunt 1977, 247-248.
12. Madsen 1967, 370.
13. Barnett 1953, 49, 54.
14. Madsen 1967, 369.
15. Ibid., 372.
14. Madsen 1967, 369.
15. Ibid., 372.
16. León-Portilla 1963, 62-65.
17. Madsen 1967, 372-374.
18. Durán 1971, 184-185.
19. Horcasitas 1979, 98.
20. B. Tedlock 1982, 41-43; 1983, 241. Cook (1986, 140-141) presents an alternative view of the interpretation of the trinity in Momostenango.
21. Ravicz 1970, 42.
22. V. Turner 1974, 189. Horcasitas tells the story of Juan Diego's vision of the Virgin of Guadalupe in detail (1979, 88-90).
23. Watts 1960, 110.
24. Madsen 1967, 389.
25. Ibid., 378.
24. Madsen 1967, 389.
25. Ibid., 378.
26. Salmerón 1971, 2:371, 377-378.
27. Hunt 1977, 280.
28. Ibid., 275-276.
27. Hunt 1977, 280.
28. Ibid., 275-276.
29. Madsen 1967, 384.
30. D. Thompson 1960, 15.
31. Bricker 1981, 179.
32. Aveni 1980, 44.
33. Hunt 1977, 248.
34. Villa Rojas 1973, 159.
35. Wisdom 1968, 123.
36. Gibson 1964, 100.
37. Madsen 1967, 378.
38. Ibid., 390.
39. Ibid., 380.
37. Madsen 1967, 378.
38. Ibid., 390.
39. Ibid., 380.
37. Madsen 1967, 378.
38. Ibid., 390.
39. Ibid., 380.
40. Gibson 1964, 101.
41. Beals 1945b, 64.
42. Kandt 1972a, 104.
43. Coe 1980, 146.
44. Madsen 1957, 136.
45. See Soustelle 1961, 199-200; and see Durán 1971, 246-247, and Madsen 1967, 378-379, for descriptions of the rite among the Aztecs and Landa 1978, 45-46, for an account of the roughly similar practices among the Yucatec Maya.
46. Wolf 1959, 171.
47. Durán 1971, 247.
48. Wolf 1959, 171.
49. Durán 1971, 203-204, 245.
50. Horcasitas and Heyden 1971, 27.
51. Carrillo Azpeitia 1971, 1:34-35.
52. See our discussion below of the Yaqui Lenten ritual for the link between the Little Angels and warriors, and see Pickands (1986, 118n.) for the fascinating suggestion that the Magi may be seen as warriors, at least by the Yucatec Maya.
53. Durán 1971, 71, 196.
54. B. Tedlock 1982, 174-175.
55. Diaz del Castillo 1956, 222.
56. Carrillo Azpeitia 1971, 34.
57. Ravicz (1970, 20-25) presents a clear summary of the little specific information that remains regarding the pre-Columbian tradition of drama and dance-drama, both masked and unmasked.
58. Beals 1968.
59. Kurath 1967, 189.
60. Salmerón 1971, 2:373.
61. For discussions of the Spanish dance in the light of the New World variants, see Foster 1960, 221-225; Kurath 1949, 1956, 1958, and 1968; and Warman 1985, 15-54.
62. Warman (1985) presents the history of the complex development of the dance in Mexico in great detail, and our brief summary follows his account.
63. Warman 1985, 135.
64. Kurath 1949, 99-100.
65. Foster 1960, 221-222.
66. Warman lists, categorizes, and discusses the variant types (1985, 111-135), and Mompradé and Gutiérrez (1976, 124-194) provide a similar discussion. Numerous ethnographic studies and popular accounts, in addition to those cited elsewhere in this discussion, of contemporary variants exist. For versions performed in the predominantly Nahua area of Guerrero, Morelos, Tlaxcala, and Puebla, see, for example, González 1925 and 1928; Toor
1930, 86-88, and 1947, 346-352; Spratling 1932, 70-71; Dominguez 1962b, 33-36, and 1962d, 88; Téllez Girón 1962a, 355-360, 1962b, 417-421; Fergusson 1942, 69-84; Altamirano 1984b; Basauri 1940, 3:213; Amezquita Borja 1943; Friedlander 1975, 109-114; Gillmor 1983, 103-105; Heller 1983, 2; Horcasitas 1979, 127-130; Jäcklein 1974; Kandt 1972a, 106; Nutini and Isaac 1974; Sepúlveda Herrera 1982, 131-132, 143-144.
67. Sevilla, Rodriguez, and Camara 1985, 213.
68. The extent to which a present version of the dance-drama reflects indigenous as opposed to Christian views is interestingly debated by Zantwijk (1967) and P. Carrasco (1970).
69. Gillmor 1983, 103.
70. There are variants, especially among those called Tastoanes, in which Santiago is killed by the indigenous forces who thus triumph. The fertility implications of these, however, are particularly strong so that even in this case the theme of rebirth seems clearer than any political implications. See Gillmor 1983, 106-109, for a description of one such dance.
71. Stone 1975, 7.
72. Kurath 1967, 177.
73. Stone 1975 provides the most complete discussion of the Concheros. See also Vásquez Santana and Dávila Garibi 1931a, 43-45; Dominguez 1962b; Fernández and Mendoza 1941; Altamirano 1984c; Kurath 1946; Toor 1947, 323-330; and Guerrero 1947.
74. LaFarge 1931, 109.
75. Bode 1961, 238.
76. B. Tedlock 1982, 149-150; and see Cook 1986, 143144, for an interesting discussion of Tzitzimit.
77. Cook 1986, 141.
78. Ibid., 139.
77. Cook 1986, 141.
78. Ibid., 139.
79. Ravicz 1970, 4-9.
80. Esser 1981a., n.p.
81. Barker 1953, 4.
82. Barker 1953, 3. For other accounts of the Pastorelas, see Mendoza and Mendoza 1952, which presents a complete text as does Barker; Starr 1896, 167-168; Cole 1907; Vásquez Santana and Dávila Garibi 1931a, 41-55, 69-71; Dominguez 1962b, 34-38, and 1962d, 88; Michel 1932; Toor 1932; Beals 1946, 148-149; Gillmor 1957; Robb 1957; Robe 1954, 1957; Campa 1960; Ravicz 1970; Ichon 1973, 422-430; Esser 1984a, 209-222. Mompradé and Gutiérrez (1976, 195-204) discuss related dances and Foster (1960, 168-170) discusses the drama in Spain in connection with the New World versions.
83. Madsen 1957, 134.
84. H. Larsen 1937a, 179.
85. Stone 1975, 196-197.
86. Wolf 1959, 173.
87. Salmerón 1971, 2:373.
88. Wisdom 1968, 120.
89. Stone 1975, 161.
90. Hunt 1977, 56.
91. Jonaitis 1981, 50. Madsen (1955, 48) questions the existence of shamanism in Mexico—and properly so since he refers specifically to Siberian shamanism rather than the set of shamanistic assumptions we have defined above. Vogt and Vogt (1979, 283-285) point out the existence of shamanic relationships in Zinacantan where animal spirits still act as mediators between culture and nature, and there is no clearer exposition of the fundamentally shamanistic nature of the spiritual assumptions of a particular Mesoamerican community than Vogt's Tortillas for the Gods (1976).
92. Redfield 1962, 203.
93. Redfield and Tax 1968, 38.
94. Madsen 1967, 374.
95. Salmerón 1971, 2:369.
96. Proskouriakoff 1950, 182.
97. Greenberg 1981, 82.
98. Los Angeles Times, July 5, 1987, 1:1, 12-13.
99. Gibson 1964, 134.
100. Stone 1975, 150.
12 The Pre-Columbian Survivals The Masks of the Tigre
1. Horcasitas 1971a, 2:583.
2. Gibson 1964, 134.
3. Horcasitas 1980, 251. Among those who affirm its pre-Columbian origins are Guerrero (1984a, 116), who discusses the dance in general; Sepúlveda Herrera (1982, 51), who is concerned with the masks used in the state of Guerrero; Suárez Jácome (1978, 5) and Williams Garcia (n.d.), who deal with the pelea del tigres of Zitlala, Guerrero; McArthur (1972, 519-520), J. E. S. Thompson (1927, 103), and Olivera B. (1974, 77, 96), who deal with Maya tiger masks and dances; Stresser-Péan (1948, 337-338), who deals with a manifestation in the Huasteca; and Esser (1981a) and Pérez Rodriguez (1981, 35), who see connections between contemporary jaguar symbolism and the jaguar symbolism of pre-Columbian Mesoamerica which we have discussed at length above. Warman and Warman (1971, 750-752) believe that while the dance is colonial, the jaguarmasked central figure is "of American origin"; and FONADAN (1975, 19) indicates that the Danza del Tecuan of Texcaltitlán, Guerrero, has pre-Hispanic elements, "the most important of which is the tigre o jaguar " in a colonial context.
4. Navarrete 1971b, 374-375; Cordry presents an English translation of the edict by Marilyn Olen (1980, 181).
5. Navarrete 1971a, 2:742.
6. Cordry 1980, fig. 176.
7. Horcasitas 1980, 14:239; 15:313, 317.
8. This English translation is given in Horcasitas 1979, 125-126. In his Spanish translation of the Nahuatl text of the dance-drama (1980, 14:277), the speech is given by Salvador's assistant, Mayeso. In addition to this complete text of los Tecuanes, another is available in FONADAN 1975.
9. FONADAN 1975, 128-129.
10. Horcasitas 1979, 126; and see 1980, 14:271.
11. Horcasitas 1971b, 583.
12. The Indians among whom Guerrero did research defined Tlacolol as the act of preparing the earth for planting (1984b, 125).
13. Warman and Warman 1971, 751-752.
14. Ibid., 750; Horcasitas 1979, 14:245.
13. Warman and Warman 1971, 751-752.
14. Ibid., 750; Horcasitas 1979, 14:245.
15. This summary combines data from Guerrero 1984b, 125-126; Warman and Warman 1971, 751-752; and Sepúlveda Herrera 1982, 53.
16. See Méndez and Yampolsky 1971, 2:737, n. 524, and Sepúlveda Herrera 1973, 19.
17. The masks worn by impersonators of the tigre in the dances of los Tecuanes and los Tlacololeros are similar. For particularly good illustrations of traditional masks, see Centro 1981, pl. 33; Cordry 1980, pls. 176, 297; Esser 1981a, pl. 122; Kurath 1967, figs. 2325; Mompradé and Gutiérrez 1976, Pl. IV; Oettinger 1986, 15; Sepúlveda Herrera 1982, pls. 5-20; Sociedad de Arte Moderno 1945, pls. 22, 23; Speer and Parker 1985, pl. 92; and Toor 1930, 90. Good illustrations of the dances themselves are to be found in Fernández n.d., pls. 64, 65; FONADAN 1975; FONAPAS-INI n.d., Encuentro XLV; Gyles and Sayer 1980, 35; Kurath and Marti 1964, pl. 108; Méndez and Yampolsky 1971, pls. 523, 524, 528-530; Mompradé and Gutiérrez 1976, pls. 121, 122, 124; Oettinger 1986, 15; Santiago E. 1978, 63; and Toneyama 1974, pl. 54. Useful descriptions of the dances are available. In addition to the ones we have cited in our discussion, Luis Covarrubias describes a dance in Chichihualco, Guerrero (n.d., VIII); Gyles and Sayer describe one in Totoltepec, Guerrero (1980, 34-36); Luna and Romandia describe the version of Huitzuco, Guerrero (1978, 93-94); Spratling gives a generalized description (1932, 76-80); Toor describes one in Taxco (1930, 88-90); and Horcasitas lists other descriptions (1980, 14:240-242).
18. While a number of writers have commented on the remarkable similarities between some tigre masks and the Olmec were-jaguar and noted as well the fact that the modern masks are found in an area associated much earlier with the Olmecs (see, e.g., M. Covarrubias 1957, 60; Williams Garcia n.d., 29; Gyles and Sayer 1980, 33-34; Luna and Romandia 1978, 90-92), it seems highly improbable that there is the direct connection some of them suggest. But such similarities are perhaps not merely coincidental. As we have shown above, the features of that Olmec man-jaguar metamorphosed into those of the later pre-Columbian rain gods, one of which—Tlaloc—was no doubt central to the agricultural ritual of the pre-Columbian peoples of what is now the state of Guerrero (but the ethnohistory of Guerrero is complex and not particularly well understood; see Harvey 1971 for an assessment). And Tlaloc carried within him the symbolic features of that were-jaguar which may well have reemerged in the evolution of the jaguar mask.
19. Horcasitas 1979, 127.
20. FONADAN 1975, 142.
21. Flanet 1977, 169.
22. Sánchez Andraka 1983, 53.
23. Cordry's illustration of a mask maker, Juan Godinillo of Zitlala, in the process of making one of these masks clearly shows its basic construction (1980, pl. 184).
24. For good illustrations of these masks and dancers in addition to those provided in the articles we cite in the course of our discussion of the ritual, see Centro 1981, pl. 39; Cordry 1980, pl. 55; Grau 1978, [60-61]; Luna and Romandia 1978, 95; Mexican Fine Arts Center 1984, pl. 12; and Speer and Parker 1985, pl. 95.
25. Williams Garcia n.d., 22.
26. Suárez Jácome 1978, 4-6.
27. McDowell 1980, 743-749.
28. Suárez Jácome 1978, 5, 11-12.
29. Sánchez Andraka 1983, [174].
30. Williams Garcia n.d., 22.
31. Ibid., 1.
30. Williams Garcia n.d., 22.
31. Ibid., 1.
32. Suárez Jacome 1978, 7-9.
33. According to Madsen (1969, 634), this is typical: "A significant feature of the Náhuatl annual cycle is the correlation between the village fiestas and the growing season."
34. Santiago E. 1978, 64-65.
35. Sánchez Andraka 1983, 82.
36. Ibid., 79-80.
37. Ibid., [157].
38. Ibid., 80.
39. Ibid., [156].
35. Sánchez Andraka 1983, 82.
36. Ibid., 79-80.
37. Ibid., [157].
38. Ibid., 80.
39. Ibid., [156].
35. Sánchez Andraka 1983, 82.
36. Ibid., 79-80.
37. Ibid., [157].
38. Ibid., 80.
39. Ibid., [156].
35. Sánchez Andraka 1983, 82.
36. Ibid., 79-80.
37. Ibid., [157].
38. Ibid., 80.
39. Ibid., [156].
35. Sánchez Andraka 1983, 82.
36. Ibid., 79-80.
37. Ibid., [157].
38. Ibid., 80.
39. Ibid., [156].
40. Suárez Jácome 1978, 12.
41. See Horcasitas 1980, 14:245-250, for an exhaustive list of those variants and the communities in which they are performed.
42. See Stanford 1962, 189-190, for a detailed description of the dance-drama.
43. Stanford 1962, 190.
44. Flanet 1977, 172. She includes illustrations of the tigre-masked character in action (192b, 192c). For depictions of the mask itself, see Brown 1978, 38; Mexican Fine Arts Center 1984, pls. 9, 15; Smithsonian Institution 1978, cover; and Speer and Parker 1985, pl. 96. Méndez and Yampolsky 1971, 2: pls. 526, 538, depict masked dancers.
45. Bakhtin 1973, 102.
46. Flanet 1977, 172.,
47. Crocker 1982, 83.
48. Flanet 1977, 170-173.
49. Bakhtin 1973, 102-105.
50. Mesnil 1987, 189.
51. Flanet 1977, 171.
52. Brown 1984, 65-67.
53. Oettinger 1986, 17.
54. Horcasitas 1980, 14:250-251.
55. Olivera B. 1974, 77.
56. Ibid., 96. See pp. 93-95 for other tigres. See Morris on the Suchiapa tigre mask and costume (1979, 2: 262); and Méndez and Yampolsky 1971, 2:pls. 531537, for illustrations.
55. Olivera B. 1974, 77.
56. Ibid., 96. See pp. 93-95 for other tigres. See Morris on the Suchiapa tigre mask and costume (1979, 2: 262); and Méndez and Yampolsky 1971, 2:pls. 531537, for illustrations.
57. Horcasitas 1980, 14:251.
58. J. E. S. Thompson 1927, 103; LaFarge 1931, 100, describes similar masks used in a similar performance at San Marcos.
59. Vela 1972, 520.
60. Paret-Limardo de Vela 1963, 13-15.
61. Frost 1976, pl. 9.
62. Vogt 1976, 174.
63. Ibid., 162. Bricker (1981, 143) suggests a possible historic basis for these figures.
62. Vogt 1976, 174.
63. Ibid., 162. Bricker (1981, 143) suggests a possible historic basis for these figures.
64. Bricker 1981, 139, figs. 21, 26.
65. Vogt 1976, 10.
66. Ibid., 172.
67. Ibid., 172.
65. Vogt 1976, 10.
66. Ibid., 172.
67. Ibid., 172.
65. Vogt 1976, 10.
66. Ibid., 172.
67. Ibid., 172.
68. Bricker 1973, 55.
69. Vogt 1976, 164-165.
70. Ibid., 165; see Bricker 1981, 147-148.
69. Vogt 1976, 164-165.
70. Ibid., 165; see Bricker 1981, 147-148.
71. Vogt 1976, 176-177.
72. Ibid., 162.
73. Ibid., 175-176.
71. Vogt 1976, 176-177.
72. Ibid., 162.
73. Ibid., 175-176.
71. Vogt 1976, 176-177.
72. Ibid., 162.
73. Ibid., 175-176.
74. Bricker 1981, 139-147.
75. Vogt 1969, 15-16.
76. For the pre-Conquest nature of the mask and dance and its local variants, see Esser 1984a, 57-121; and see L. Covarrubias n.d., III; Esser 1981a, n.p.; Esser 1982, 115-123; and Warman and Warman 1971, 2: 754-755. Additional illustrations of Viejito dances and masks may be found in Cordry 1980, pl. 311; Esser 1984b, 40; Fernández n.d., pl. 18; Luna and Romandia 1978, 80-84; Méndez and Yampolsky 1971, 2: pls. 401, 402; Mexican Fine Arts Center 1984, 24; Mompradé and Gutiérrez 1976, pls. 114, 115, 117, 119, 120; and Speer and Parker 1985, pls. 141, 142.
77. Esser treats the Negrito most comprehensively (1984a, 123-178), concluding that they reflect the convergence of the pre-Columbian tradition, which associated black ''with the extraordinary: with godhead, power and lavish display of riches," with the colonial, in which "black Africans were experienced by the Indians as having control over people and goods" (1981a, n.p.). Miller, Varner, and Brown discuss the pre-Columbian and colonial sources of Negrito masks (1975, 46-47) as do Warman and Warman (1971,747-748). Beals discusses the Negritos of Cherán (1946, 144-147).
13 The Syncretic Compromise The Yaqui and Mayo Pascola
1. Griffith 1982, 55.
2. See, e.g., Kelly 1944 and Kelley 1966.
3. See Spicer 1980, 69-70, for a fascinating argument that the Yaquis have created what is, in fact, a new religion.
4. While it is true that there are significant differences between contemporary Yaqui and Mayo cultures, their ceremonial practices are quite similar, reflecting, no doubt, their common origin. For a full treatment of these similarities and differences, see Spicer 1969b.
5. Spicer 1969b, 841, 843.
6. Crumrine 1977, 98; various scholars use various spellings of the Yaqui term. While we have elected to use pascola, the spelling most commonly used, we retain other scholars' spellings, paskola and pahkola, in quotations from their work. Similarly, we retain the indigenous plural form, used here by Crumrine, in quotations.
7. Spicer 1984, 173, 199.
8. Lutes 1983, 86.
9. Crumrine 1977, 98; his italics.
10. Griffith and Molina 1980, 29.
11. Spicer 1980, 328, 68.
12. Evers and Molina 1987, 44.
13. That this is the devil is often made explicit. Crumrine (1977, 60), for example, indicates that the Mayo of Sonora believe that particularly talented pascolas have sold their souls to the devil, and Spicer (1984, 196) found the same connection among the Arizona Yaqui in Pascua. Molina tells a story he heard from his grandfather in which the first pascola is the devil's son (Griffith and Molina 1980, 32-33).
14. Spicer (1980, 326) explains the situation clearly: "The yo ania was steadily revalued against the sacred written words. . . . A mythology of the evil origins of the Pascolas and the Chapayekas at some point became a part of Yaqui thought, but this idea competed with the idea of beneficent origin."
15. Beals 1945a, 205.
16. Spicer 1980, 88.
17. Ibid., 66-68.
16. Spicer 1980, 88.
17. Ibid., 66-68.
18. Spicer 1984, 299-308.
19. Ibid., 173.
20. Ibid., 306.
21. Ibid., 299.
22. Ibid., 175.
18. Spicer 1984, 299-308.
19. Ibid., 173.
20. Ibid., 306.
21. Ibid., 299.
22. Ibid., 175.
18. Spicer 1984, 299-308.
19. Ibid., 173.
20. Ibid., 306.
21. Ibid., 299.
22. Ibid., 175.
18. Spicer 1984, 299-308.
19. Ibid., 173.
20. Ibid., 306.
21. Ibid., 299.
22. Ibid., 175.
18. Spicer 1984, 299-308.
19. Ibid., 173.
20. Ibid., 306.
21. Ibid., 299.
22. Ibid., 175.
23. Crumrine 1977, 86.
24. Evers and Molina 1987, 62.
25. Spicer 1980, 88.
26. Spicer 1954, 184.
27. Spicer 1984, 198.
28. Crumrine 1977, 26.
29. Spicer 1980, 88-89.
30. Ibid., 90-92.
29. Spicer 1980, 88-89.
30. Ibid., 90-92.
31. Crumrine 1977, 80.
32. Spicer 1980, 92.
33. Spicer 1969b, 842.
34. Lutes 1983, 86.
35. Spicer 1980, 105.
36. Evers and Molina 1987, 73.
37. Griffith and Molina 1980, 14.
38. Crumrine 1977, 33.
39. Sands 1980, 152.
40. Spicer 1980, 102-103.
41. Evers and Molina 1987, 138.
42. Crumrine 1983b, 255.
43. Evers and Molina 1987, 16.
44. Lutes 1983, 86.
45. Griffith and Molina 1980, 18.
46. Evers and Molina 1987, 137.
47. Ibid., 154, 173.
48. Ibid., 88-89.
49. Ibid., 154.
50. Ibid., 174.
46. Evers and Molina 1987, 137.
47. Ibid., 154, 173.
48. Ibid., 88-89.
49. Ibid., 154.
50. Ibid., 174.
46. Evers and Molina 1987, 137.
47. Ibid., 154, 173.
48. Ibid., 88-89.
49. Ibid., 154.
50. Ibid., 174.
46. Evers and Molina 1987, 137.
47. Ibid., 154, 173.
48. Ibid., 88-89.
49. Ibid., 154.
50. Ibid., 174.
46. Evers and Molina 1987, 137.
47. Ibid., 154, 173.
48. Ibid., 88-89.
49. Ibid., 154.
50. Ibid., 174.
51. Wilder 1963, 201.
52. Spicer 1980, 94.
53. Evers and Molina 1987, 129.
54. Spicer 1980, 71.
55. Spicer's account of the Yaqui drama is the most extensive and his analysis the most penetrating (1980, 70-88). The personal experiences of Rosalio Moises as a Yaqui chapayeka are recounted in Moises, Kelley, and Holden 1971; Dominguez (1962f, 1:121-136) gives an account of a particular Yaqui ceremony. Crumrine discusses the Mayo festival at length in a number of places; see, for example, 1969; 1974; 1977, 85-96; 1983b. Beristáin Márquez et al. (n.d.) deals at length with the Mayo Easter ceremonies while Gyles and Sayer (1980, 177-190) give an account of a particular Mayo ceremony. See also Altman 1946, 1947a, 1947b; Barker 1957; Montell 1938; and Robb 1961. There are a number of lengthy accounts and analyses of the Cora ceremony. The earliest account is that of Preuss 1912. For other descriptions of the ceremony, see Castillo Romero 1979, 219-242; González Ramos 1972; Luna and Romandia 1978, 108-127; Téllez Girón 1964a, 96-106, and 1964b, 158-168. Analyses of the Cora ceremony and relevant aspects of Cora culture are to be found in Grimes and Hinton 1969; Hinton 1970 and 1971; and Weigand 1985. A lengthy and very useful description and analysis is provided by Benitez (1984, 3:484-523) and a shorter analysis may be found in Anguiano Fernández 1972. Espejel 1978, pls. 296-317, provides excellent pictures of masked Cora ritualists as do Benitez and Luna and Romandia in the sources we have cited above. Additional pictures of Cora masks and ritualists may be found in Artes de México (1969, 9-14); Cordry 1980, pl. 172; and Sodi M. 1975, pls. 261, 274, 286. Additional pictures of Yaqui and Mayo masks may be found in Cordry 1980, pls. 71, 75-77; Méndez and Yampolsky 1971, 2: pls. 338-342; and Sodi M. 1975, pls. 271-272.
56. Spicer 1980, 60.
57. Ibid., 60-61.
58. Ibid., 70.
59. Ibid., 76.
56. Spicer 1980, 60.
57. Ibid., 60-61.
58. Ibid., 70.
59. Ibid., 76.
56. Spicer 1980, 60.
57. Ibid., 60-61.
58. Ibid., 70.
59. Ibid., 76.
56. Spicer 1980, 60.
57. Ibid., 60-61.
58. Ibid., 70.
59. Ibid., 76.
60. See Spicer 1980, 106, for a discussion of the contrasts between the clowning of the pascolas and the chapayekas.
61. Spicer 1980, 78, 81.
62. Crumrine 1969, 8.
63. Spicer 1980, 68.
64. Ibid., 81.
65. Ibid., 58.
63. Spicer 1980, 68.
64. Ibid., 81.
65. Ibid., 58.
63. Spicer 1980, 68.
64. Ibid., 81.
65. Ibid., 58.
66. Griffith and Molina 1980, 14.
67. See Griffith and Molina 1980, 26, for a clear statement of the differences between Yaqui and Mayo masks and the regional variations within the masks of each culture.
68. According to Lutes (1983, 85) the typical colors of the mask are symbolic. Red is associated with the devil and with "mirth and joy. . . . White is linked with feelings of purity and tranquility, balanced activity, and spiritual grace. . . . [And] black has to do with death, gloom, and sorrow."
69. Griffith and Molina 1980, 30.
70. Lutes 1983, 84.
71. Griffith and Molina 1980, 29.
72. Spicer 1980, 102.
73. Fontana, Faubert, and Burns 1977, 20.
74. Spicer 1980, 112.
75. Crumrine 1977, 97.
76. Griffith and Molina 1980, 29.
77. Fontana, Faubert, and Burns 1977, 20.
78. Lutes 1983, 85.
79. Griffith and Molina 1980, 30.
80. Ibid., 41.
79. Griffith and Molina 1980, 30.
80. Ibid., 41.
81. Lutes 1983, 89-90.
14 Today's Masks
1. Wolf 1959, 67-68.
2. D. Thompson 1960, 32.
3. Kandt 1972a, 104.
4. Merlo Juárez 1979, 42-43.
5. Redfield 1962, 250-251.
6. Griffith and Molina 1980, 22.
7. Ibid., 27.
6. Griffith and Molina 1980, 22.
7. Ibid., 27.
8. Sepúlveda Herrera (1982, 215-216) discusses the development of these masks. Their manufacture originated in San Francisco Ozumatlán, Guerrero, and the surrounding area, and their commercial acceptance, especially by governmental agencies charged with fostering popular art, led to the spread of the industry to other woodworking areas of Guerrero. See also Ogazón 1981, 77; Speer and Parker 1985, 11-13; and Pomar 1982, 22. For illustrations, see, for
example, Speer and Parker 1985, pls. 18, 55-58, 65, 68-71, 107, 115, 117; Griffith 1982, pls. 4, 7, 10, 16, 32; and Mexican Fine Arts Center 1984, pls. 25, 91, 103-128.
9. For a sense of the great difficulties in making such determinations, see Speer and Parker's account of the problems they encountered when "experts" could not agree as to the ritual nature of masks they were prepared to mount in an extensive exhibit. They conclude that "it has become evident to the researchers of this exhibition that vast research still needs to be done on Mexican masks, particularly the contemporary phenomenon of market-induced production" (1985, 14-15).
10. Mexican Folkways 5:125. It was displayed in the landmark exhibition of Mexican masks mounted by the Sociedad de Arte Moderno in 1945 (Sociedad de Arte Moderno 1945, 73), and it is also depicted in the catalog of the recent Homage to Miguel Covarrubias (Garcia-Noriega y Nieto 1987, 187).
11. Pomar 1982, 28-29.
12. Sepúlveda Herrera 1982, 216.
13. Cordry 1980, 105-107.
14. See Esser 1981b, 87, and Sepúlveda Herrera 1982, 216.
15. For illustrations of such masks, see, for example, Cordry 1980, pls. 15, 17, 18, 23-25, 37-38, 67-68, 105, 116-117, 120-121, 150, 181, 189, 206, 219, 225232, 242, 248, 258, 269, 313; Speer and Parker 1985, pl. 124; Pérez Rodriguez 1981, 81, 91; Mexican Fine Arts Center 1984, 91-95; and Griffith 1982, pls. 2, 12, 18, 22, 23, 25.
16. For illustrations, see Cordry 1980, pl. 138; Pérez Rodriguez 1981, 67-69, 72-73, 93; Mexican Fine Arts Center 1984, pl. 200; and Griffith 1982, pl. 30.
17. See Cordry 1980, 204-205, and for illustrations, see Cordry 1980, pls. 252-256; Mexican Fine Arts Center 1984, pls. 74-76; and Griffith 1982, pl. 34.
18. Cordry 1980, 138-139. For illustrations of these, see Cordry 1980, pl. 188; Mexican Fine Arts Center 1984, pl. 173; and Griffith 1982, pl. 11.
19. For illustrations, see Cordry 1980, pls. 187, 198, 199, 214, 241, 247, 263, 302, 303; Speer and Parker 1985, pls. 125, 129-132; Mexican Fine Arts Center 1984, pls. 50-51, 86-87; Pérez Rodriguez 1981, 87; Griffith 1982, pls. 14, 28.
20. Cordry 1980, 27.
21. For illustrations, see Cordry 1980, pls. 16, 32; Speer and Parker 1985, pls. 44-47; Pérez Rodriguez 1981, 66, 71, 77, 80, 82, 85-86, 91, 99; Mexican Fine Arts Center 1984, 159, 176-180, 188-197; and Griffith 1982, pl. 26.
22. For illustrations, see Cordry 1980, pls. 20-21, 154; Mexican Fine Arts Center 1984, pl. 178; and Griffith 1982, pls. 5-6.
23. Sepúlveda Herrera 1982, 215-217.
24. Esser 1981b, 87.
25. Yeats, "The Second Coming," lines 1-8.
26. Campbell 1986, 17, 19.
27. This period of Rivera's work, 1913-1917, has been documented in a recent exhibition. The catalog essay by Ramón Favela concludes that "for Rivera, Cubism became an acutely individualized and personalized state of mind that led him on a road to monumental self-discovery from which he later never veered. . . . It was in Cubism . . . that Rivera had discovered the road back to his birthplace, Anáhuac" (1984, 152).
28. Numerous studies of los Tres Grandes and the other artists of this period exist. Two concise, penetrating analyses are to be found in Paz 1959, 25-27, and Tibol 1974.
29. Paz 1979a, 20.
30. Ponce 1967, [36].
31. Kuebler 1987, 142.
32. Bermudez 1974, 34.
33. Genauer 1979, 42.
34. Sturges 1987, 94.
35. Capa 1966, 147.
36. Paz 1959, 34-35.
37. Ibid., 31.
36. Paz 1959, 34-35.
37. Ibid., 31.
38. Paz 1979a, 23.
39. Ibid., 17.
38. Paz 1979a, 23.
39. Ibid., 17.
40. Goldman 1977, 18.
41. Genauer 1979, 40.
42. Sturges 1987, 97.
43. Goldman 1977, 18.
44. Joysmith 1967, 43.
45. Genauer 1974, 21.
46. But Tamayo's complexity is also suggested by the fact, fascinating to note, that a similar slice of watermelon appears in the center of the lower portion of one of Picasso's most powerful explorations of the symbolic dimensions of the female form, Les Demoiselles d' Avignon.
47. Ponce 1967, [34-35].
48. Genauer 1974, 76.
49. Traba 1976, 52.
50. Escalante 1980, 62.
51. Whitman, "Song of Myself," 4.
52. Toledo 1974.
53. Kuebler 1987, 144.
54. Conde 1985, 57.