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The Arab Ear and the American Eye:
A Study of the Role of the Senses
in Culture
By Sharif Kanaana
Birzeit
University
Palestine
Translated by
Ibrahim Muhawi
Ludwig-Maximilian University of Munich
Germany
Abstract
This article is a translation (with a
translator's preface) of an essay by Sharif Kanaana on the significance of
hearing in Arab culture. The analysis is based on Alan Dundes' "Seeing is
Believing." Proceeding along the same lines as Dundes and using similar
procedures, the author seeks to establish the hypothesis that in Arab culture
the ear is more significant than the eye as a guide to belief. While "Seeing is
Believing" is about American culture, in using its categories as a basis for the
study of the Arab ear, this article brings to the fore its implicit comparative
perspective. The theoretical point at issue is the determining power of
culturally established cognitive patterns.
The dialogue between the two articles (Kanaana's
and Dundes') is an instance of intercultural communication, which could not have
come into being without the decisive role of translation. The translator's
preface and response explore the reciprocal discursive connection between
translation and ethnography, given that both of these, as disciplines, have to
grapple with the problem of how to interpret the Other for a domestic audience.
The analysis elaborates upon the metaphorical significance of the eye in Arab
culture, showing that the Arab fear of the eye may be justified in view of the
manipulative power that resides in images. Translated in terms of culture, it
may be that the reliance on the eye breeds a need for visual stimulation and
constant change, while reliance on the ear leads to reliance on tradition and
fear of change.
Translator's preface
… I translated this piece not only for its cultural contribution
but also because of its attempt to establish a dialogue based on shared
scholarly interest, and that dialogue in turn cannot take place without
translation. Therefore, the translation is itself the completing process of that
dialogue. Additionally, and with respect to this dialogue, the significance of
Kanaana's piece lies in its uncovering of the comparative methodological
implications of the essay on which it is based, Dundes' "Seeing is Believing"
(1980).
Dundes' article is based on the assumption that verbal folklore
articulates or reflects world view, or both. While I think that the assumption
of realistic mimesis (that is, trying to read world view from folktales or
proverbs) can, and frequently does, lead the inexperienced into aberrant views
of a given culture (Orientalism being an outstanding, and pernicious, example of
this process) it seems to me that the exemplary areas of behavior singled out by
Dundes, and by Kanaana in turn, do lead to accurate conclusions. To cite one
specific example from my own experience, as a person who belongs to a "hearing
is believing" culture, I always find it disconcerting when American friends use
the seeing metaphor to refer to concerts—e.g., "I saw the San Francisco Symphony
last night." Though as a student of language I understand that this is American
usage (and no one can argue with usage), the culturally Arab part of me still
thinks that this formulation is a distortion of experience. Perhaps we can use
translation metaphorically here and think of this process as a translation in
terms of one sense of something that takes place primarily in the domain of
another.
Turning now to the specific details of that dialogue, we note
that the two articles taken together resemble a circle, or a necklace, with
Kanaana beginning where Dundes left off. The points that Dundes makes in
bringing his article to a close are the very ones taken up by Kanaana at the
beginning of his study. In his last paragraph, Dundes specifically raises the
question of the cultural relativism of language:
With human observations expressed in human language, one simply
cannot avoid cultural bias. . . . Cross-cultural comparisons of sense categories
may not only reveal critical differences in the specific senses, but also
whether or not the apparent priority of vision over the other senses is a human
universal.
Kanaana unravels the implications of this in a number of ways:
first, methodologically, by using the same categories as Dundes does to
undertake a crosscultural comparison of the senses, showing that the "apparent
priority of vision over the other senses" is not a human universal. And,
secondly, by placing Dundes' formulation within the context of the translation
of culture, as we shall see below in more detail. With regard to the first
problem, Kanaana uses the issues brought up by Dundes at the end of his essay to
raise rather large philosophical questions (which he admits are impossible to
answer) at the beginning of his. Thus in taking up Dundes' "challenge," by
undertaking a cross-cultural comparison based on the very categories proposed by
Dundes, Kanaana opens out the horizon of the discussion by showing that, if we
are to avoid the Orientalist pitfalls, we must take Dundes' questions, his
doubts and hesitations about the gravity of cultural misrepresentation seriously
enough to be aware of their consequences in relation to Arab culture.
* * *
Every field of knowledge has issues and problems
that are appropriate to it. The issue, which I shall be addressing in this
research, is of the type that usually engages anthropologists, but it has also
been addressed by folklorists, sociologists, and others concerned with the
social sciences.
Anthropologists see their function as the
understanding of other cultures, the translation of the spirit of the cultures
they study, and the transfer of the way indigenous peoples see their world and
culture to the anthropologist's own world and culture. But there is always an
anxiety—and therefore some contention— concerning the degree of truthfulness of
what they transfer to their own culture: to what extent do anthropologists
actually transfer another culture without imposing on it their own cultural
perceptions?
Let us take an example. Every language is a part,
or offspring, of a culture. It came into being so that members of that culture
can communicate in terms of concepts and understandings appropriate to their
culture. Is it therefore possible to speak of another culture in our own
language? And when we do so, does that culture remain itself, or do we in the
process recast it in terms of concepts appropriate to our own culture?
Let us take another example. Do the modern
sciences that came into being in the West represent absolute truths or are they
just expressions of modern Western culture? And when we try to arrive at an
understanding of another society or culture by reference to modern Western
social science, are we then not recasting it in the conceptual terms of these
sciences?
The question I am addressing here is of the type
dealt with by students of human culture, especially those among them who are
concerned with subjects that are relevant to different cultures. We can
reformulate the question as follows: Living human beings must interact with the
environment in order to survive; otherwise, we would not be able to survive.
Human perception of the environment takes place through the agency of the
senses, which receive impressions from the environment. There is no other access
to the environment except through the senses. Therefore, human beings'
perception of the environment, their understanding of it, and their interactions
with it depend on the five senses. So culture is the sum total of the ways
humans learn to interact with the environment in order to survive. But these do
not depend on the senses in equal measure, and different cultures do not utilize
each of the senses to the same degree, for cultures may differ in their reliance
on any particular sense. It is said, for example, that Western culture prefers
the sense of sight to the other senses. The dependence of this culture on sight
may reach such an extent that information available to other senses, such as
touch or smell, may be ignored in favor of the sense of sight.
These considerations do not apply solely to
ordinary individuals in daily life, but also to the student and the researcher,
including the anthropologist, from whom we expect an understanding of the
cultures s/he brings to the attention of the Western world. If it is true that
the Western person depends principally on sight, then the picture that
anthropologists and other students of the Orient draw, for example, of Arab
culture is bound to be doubly distorted, since these scholars are likely to
highlight the features of this culture that emphasize the sense of sight, and
these in turn will be perceived by Western scholars in relation to visual data
as a result of their primary dependence on the sense of sight. The distortion
increases if the culture under study shows a preference for one of the other
senses, such as touch.
Scholars of the Orient have written thousands of
books, theses, and dissertations about the Middle East, Islam, and Arab/Islamic
culture. Their writings exceed by far what Arabs and Muslims have written about
themselves, particularly in the modern age. Most of what the world today knows
about Arab/Islamic culture, even much of what Arabs and Muslims know about
themselves, has come by way of the writings of Orientalist European and American
scholars.
If what we are saying is true, or at least close
to the truth, and when we ourselves try to describe our culture and society in
order to make them available to the rest of the world, is it not reasonable to
suggest that we will find many complex features of this culture which were not
perceived or discussed by Western anthropologists and Orientalists because they
were not related to the sense of sight? Furthermore, is it possible that,
generally speaking, the differences between cultures would depend merely on a
culture's emphasis or dependence on one sense rather than another?
We will not be able to provide satisfactory
answers to these questions here, but I will propose a simplified assumption,
namely, that Western culture is structurally more dependent on the sense of
sight than Arab/Islamic culture, and that this culture in turn is more dependent
on the sense of hearing than Western culture. I will not be able to prove this
supposition, but I will try to show that it is a reasonable one, and worthy of
further exploration.
In an article published in 1972 in the Natural
History Magazine, entitled "Seeing is Believing" [reprinted in Dundes 1980],
Alan Dundes discusses the significance of the sense of sight in American
society. Here is the opening paragraph of this article:
Whether from early memories of playing
"peek-a-boo," "showing and telling" in school, or learning the opening phrases
of the national anthem—" O say can you see"—the primacy of vision in American
culture is affirmed again and again as infants grow to adulthood. Americans are
conditioned from childhood to believe that "what you see is what you get."
Dundes ends his article with the thought that
cross-cultural "comparisons of sense categories may not only reveal critical
differences in the specific senses, but also whether or not the apparent
priority of vision over the other senses is a human universal." As far as I know
no one has taken up the challenge posed by Dundes, and he himself has not
pursued his research further, whether in relation to American or other cultures.
The fact of the matter is that this is a difficult subject: it is much easier to
talk about it than to study it in relation to observable in stances of behavior.
Dundes' article highlights those aspects of
American behavior, which the author says show a clear preference for the sense
of sight, and it discusses them as representative aspects of American culture as
a whole. What I shall do here is proceed as Dundes does and demonstrate, with
reference to some of the same practices which he maintains show a clear
preference for the sense of sight, that in these and similar cases the Arab
person prefers to rely on hearing or another sense altogether.
Of course, Dundes does not establish that
Americans do not rely on senses other than sight in the many aspects of culture
that he does not address in his essay. Similarly, if I succeed in this essay in
showing that the Arab person relies more on hearing than on sight in respect to
many aspects of culture treated by Dundes, this, in turn, does not establish
that Arab individuals do not rely on sight or some other sense in many or even
most aspects of Arab culture. I will now take some of the examples used by
Dundes and explore the extent to which they apply to Arab individuals and
culture.
As we can see from the quotation, Dundes mentions
that a game in which adults play with infants whose age does not exceed a few
months is called "peeka- boo." Arabs play the same game with infants, saying
"ba'ayni." I have had occasion to observe this game among both communities, and
I came away with the impression that the element of surprise for the American
child arises from the successive disappearance and reappearance of the adult
face, and that the word "peek-a-boo" does not play a large role in surprising
the child, attracting his/her attention and producing laughter. While, among
Arabs, the element of surprise depends to a large extent on sound, for the word
"ba'ayni" is spoken in rapid rhythm and at an elevated pitch—far louder than
when Americans say "peek-a-boo."
Similarly (as mentioned by Dundes) one of the
initial methods of teaching American children when they enter school is called
"show and tell." In this game the teacher asks each pupil to bring an item from
home which s/he then shows to the other children, describing it in some detail
while pointing to the parts of that item and the way it is put together and
used, and such like. Education here takes place as a result of seeing and
speaking. What, then, are the initial methods of education for the Arab child?
Until the recent past, education took place in the small schools known as the
kuttabs, which are run by religious sheikhs. The sheikh in these schools, or
the teacher in many modern schools, begins by saying something in a loud voice,
and the children repeat after him or her, also in a loud voice. This is repeated
until the children learn what is being taught by heart, without any sort of
visual cue or even (in most cases) without understanding the meaning of the
information being communicated, regardless of whether it has to do with reading,
teaching the Qur'an, poetry, or arithmetic. Thus we see that the preferred
method of traditional education in Arab/Islamic culture is by means of hearing
and speaking, and not by seeing and speaking, as in the West.
Parents also resort to the same method of
teaching their children from the earliest stages of childhood, before the
children are admitted into kindergarten or school. The American mother teaches
her child language by pointing to things and talking to the child about them,
encouraging him or her to use them and discover their parts and how they work.
The Arab mother, on the other hand, teaches her child language by pronouncing
the words, letting the child repeat after her without pointing out the things to
which the words refer. She, for example, will teach the child to repeat the
names of the family members, and the names of animals and birds and the sounds
that they make. She may teach the child songs, sayings, or sentences with
abstract meanings, or even the numbers from one to ten without explaining what
the numbers mean or without pointing to things in the process of counting. Thus,
the child learns the numbers in order by heart without learning how to count
tangible objects or how to use these numbers, repeating them all from one to ten
when he or she hears a number or even the first sound of a number. This way of
teaching children, by making the child repeat what he or she knows from hearing
the very initial sound of a number, is widely used by the Arab (Palestinian)
mother to show off her child and his or her cleverness in speaking to friends,
neighbors, and relatives. A mother might say to her child, "Come, show daddy
what you learned today!" But the child does not understand what is required and
does not respond to her request. The mother then follows this up by making the
first sound of what she wants the child to say, for example: "I" (Aaaaaye), and
the child continues with, "love daddy a lot." Or the mother might say, "Come,
darling sing 'Allah,'" and the child continues with "lives O Abu Shusha!" Or the
mother might say, "Come show us how well you can count! Come on, 'Waaaan,'" and
the child would continue with "Twoooo, threeee . . ." and so on.
We note also that the Arab mother conditions her
child to undertake actions or bodily movements upon hearing the auditory cues
associated with these movements, without showing concern for the child's
understanding of the meaning of these requests or orders. The child's response
then becomes automatic upon hearing the auditory cues. The mother might say
something like, "Dah! Dah!" and the baby would make a movement
with its hands, which the mother explains as a form of dancing. Or she might
say, "Heedo, Heedo!" and the infant would attempt to stand up. Or she
might say, "Daadee, Daadee!" and the child would start moving its feet as
if to walk.
Dundes says that American culture relies on the
sense of sight so much that Americans perceive the world around them through
this sense. We might therefore say, metaphorically, that Americans see the world
around them but do not hear, touch, smell, or taste it. This orientation to the
world is illustrated in daily expressions. Let us observe how Dundes does this,
and whether or not it, or something different, would apply to the Arab
individual. Thus, the American, Dundes says, uses sight metaphorically to
express understanding in such expressions as "I see" or "as I see it." Americans
in general express their understanding of any idea by saying that they "see" it.
For Arabs, this use of "seeing" is comprehensible, but they do not need to use
the sense of sight metaphorically. If for some reason a person had to resort to
using the senses to express an understanding of something, then hearing would
serve the purpose as well as, or better than, seeing. For one to say, "I hear
what you're saying," meaning "I understand what you mean," would be more
acceptable and in greater accordance with common usage than saying, "I see what
you mean." But in either case, it would be preferable to say, "I understand what
you're saying." On the other hand, if we want to make sure that the person whom
we are addressing understands our meaning, the question, "Do you hear me?" is
more appropriate than, "Do you see what I'm saying." "Do you understand what I'm
saying?" would be most appropriate of all.
Americans, Dundes also says, are empiricists, and
their empiricism favors the sense of sight more than the other senses. Americans
do not trust or become convinced of anything until after they have "seen." Once
they "see," that, in itself, is sufficient and there will be no need for further
proof by means of the other senses. Americans say, "Seeing is believing" or "I
saw it with my own eyes," asking others to "see for themselves." When an
American doubts the veracity of what is said s/he might say, "That I've got to
see." On the other hand, the Arab's trust of the sense of sight is, in my view,
far less than that of the American because the Arab casts doubt on appearances,
which may be deceiving. If an Arab wants to make sure of the veracity of what is
being said s/he might say, "I heard it with my own ears," or "His words stuck in
my ears." If an Arab, for example, were to doubt the truth of what is being
said, s/he might ask the interlocutor to confirm what had been said, by giving
his or her "word" that it is true. If s/he wants to go further, s/he might
request the other person to verify what was said "on your honor (sharaf
or dhimma);" or s/he might ask him to swear in the name of God, or on the
Qur'an. But s/he will not insist on "seeing with his/her own eyes" because "only
a shit[head]—il-khara—does not believe until s/he sees."
The difference in dependence on the different
senses between Arabs and Americans comes out clearly in relation to shopping.
Americans hesitate before buying something "sight unseen." Before buying
something they may wish to "look it over," but they would not normally touch the
merchandise or examine it with any of the other senses. An American shopkeeper
may have a negative reaction to a customer's touching the merchandise, and if
the buyer were to try tasting or smelling it, that would be considered
unacceptable, especially if the merchandise comes already wrapped. True, an Arab
will not buy "fish in the sea," but when the fish is put in front of him/her
what does the Arab person do? It is certain s/he will reach out with his/ her
hand, feel it, and turn several fishes over before finally picking one, lifting
it up, and turning it around, making sure to press its flesh, smell it, and
examine its eyes and gills. This will continue until the customer picks what
s/he wants. It may be thought that all this is necessary because fish spoil
quickly, but Arabs will do this with everything, even prepared foods. They do
not find it embarrassing to touch the merchandise, feel it with their hands, and
frequently even taste it. If the merchandise is of the type that can emit some
kind of sound, then the Arab will try to get a sound out of it by shaking it,
thumping it, or tapping the fingers on its surface. A watermelon, for example,
which the American might not assume would emit any sounds, might be lifted up
between the Arab's palms, brought close to his/her ear, and pressed with his/her
palms in order to listen to sounds inside it. It might not be bought until a
large number had been similarly checked.
Because Americans depend largely on sight for
evaluating an item of merchandise, there now exists in the United States a huge
packaging industry that costs the American consumer billions of dollars a year.
The purpose behind packaging is to make the item appear better and bigger than
it in fact is. I do not believe that packaging would be equally successful among
Arabs. An Arab consumer faced with a packaged product is likely to squeeze the
box, shake it, bend it, or (often) even empty it.
In his article, Dundes also uses as evidence
expressions from tourism. Americans travel for the purpose of "sight-seeing" as
they move at top speed from one town to another in order to see the greatest
number of places and document their experience with photographs. They rarely
enjoy their travels as they should because they are oriented towards looking,
making no effort to get acquainted with local people, or to enjoy the
unaccustomed smells of a place, its cuisine, or music. According to Dundes, this
emphasis on seeing the maximum number of places is based on the notion of
quantity, or getting the best deal for the money spent on any particular
activity.
Some medical expressions also support the
emphasis in American culture on seeing, where patients wait for the doctor to
"see them," as if doctors treat people by sight. In Arabic we say that a doctor
examines (yafhas) or "uncovers" (yakshif'ala) the patient, or may
even "feel" (yahiss, ya'iss) or take the pulse of (yajiss)
of the patient. A doctor may even write out a prescription upon hearing a
description of the patient's symptoms from a relative, but it would not be
acceptable for a doctor to prescribe medicine upon merely seeing the patient. We
frequently hear people complaining about a doctor because "s/he doesn't do an
examination, but writes a prescription after seeing the patient." Doctors who
examine different parts of the patient's body and who ask a lot of questions and
are willing to discuss the sick person's condition are preferred.
According to Dundes, Americans depend on sight to
evaluate not only a person who is in their presence but also an absent one,
based on his or her "public image," while for the Arab, the other person is
judged according to reputation, that is what one hears other people say about
them. Furthermore, Americans understand not only the present with reference to
the sense of sight, but the future as well. Americans will go to a "seer" who
looks into the unknown in an effort to find out what is hidden in that person's
future, whereas the Arab will go to the "knower" ('arraf) who knows what
is hidden, or to an "opener" (fattah) who will unlock the gates of the
unknown.
Finally, Dundes says that Americans relate to
each other through sight, because they normally prefer not to touch or be
touched, except in a love- or sexual relationship. Meeting after long absence is
usually accompanied by an exchange of greetings, or when relations are warm a
mere handshake. Further, most of what is said during the exchange of greetings
has to do with sight, such as, "It's good to see you," "See you later," or "I'll
be seeing you," and so on. The Arab greeting, on the other hand, even among men,
might involve embracing and kissing on the cheek. A person returning after a
long absence or coming out of prison may be hugged and kissed ten or twenty
times. Young men are not embarrassed to walk down the street holding hands or
with their arms around each other's shoulders. Dundes mentions that there are no
American expressions praising those who rely on the sense of smell, taste, or
hearing, while we Arabs have good things to say about a person who listens
(literally, "someone who hears the word") and we praise a person who has taste:
our proverbs say, "The smell of a husband is better than having none," or "The
smell of a mother brings [the family] together." When American youths see a
beautiful girl walking down the street, one might say to the other, "Look, but
don't touch," while the Arab youth will whisper in his friend's ear, "Smell, but
don't taste."
In this essay, I have presented a number of
perspectives that show differences between Arabs and Americans regarding the
degree of dependence on the various senses. While it does not constitute proof
of the thesis, I believe it is sufficient to persuade researchers that it is
valid and merits serious investigation.
Work Cited
Dundes, Alan. 1980. "Seeing is Believing." In
Interpreting Folklore. Bloomington: Indiana University.
(Source: Cultural Analysis, 4 (2005),pp
29-45)
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