The Gods at Play: Vertigo and Possession in Muria ReligionAuthor(s): Alfred GellSource: Man, New Series, Vol. 15, No. 2 (Jun., 1980), pp. 219-248Published by: Royal Anthropological Institute of Great Britain and IrelandStable URL: http://www.jstor.org/stable/2801669 .Accessed: 10/05/2011 03:59

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THE GODS AT PLAY: VERTIGO AND POSSESSION IN MURIA RELIGION*

ALFRED GELL

Australian National University

Vertigo is a most significant element in the religious practices of the Muria, a tribal people of Central India. This paper tries to account for the pursuit of religious vertigo in dance, swinging, and possession trance, as a means of achieving a state of 'deautomatised' or dis- embedded sensori-motor integration, and altered state of consciousness which is also, by implication, the Muria divinities' own. First, the article provides some background on ritual swinging in India, before moving on to an ethnographic account of 'the assault on the equilibrium sense' in Muria ritual practices. Riding and swinging emerge as characteristically divine activities. The article concludes with an account of possession trance and proposes a 'vestibular' theory of trance induction. Finally, some comparative suggestions are advanced concerning Muria trance behaviour and similar behaviour seen in cases of severe childhood autism. It is argued that both may be related to the disruption of vestibular modulation of input-output relations in the central nervous system.

Introduction: On a swing at Alor Verrier Elwin's The Muria and their ghotul is embellished with a plate showing the Siraha's swing at Alor (I 947: P1. 35). From two elegantly carved, inwards leaning posts, is suspended a wooden seat, into which are set a number of sharp nails, as if it were a bed of nails in miniature. Studying this arresting image, we are struck by the coincidence of opposites it seems to embody, since the Alor swing would appear to serve as an instrument of pleasure and torture simultaneously, evoking both the ascetic practice of self-mortification, and the secular enjoyment of a universal childish pastime. We are able to infer that the swing is employed in a ritual context, despite the fact that no further reference is made to the swing in Elwin's book, because we have been told that the Siraha is a medium who prophesies at festivals. But despite the esoteric context and sheer decorativeness of the Alor swing, it is, and remains, a swing, and clearly cognate with the stark, clanking, functional iron swings which indulgent municipalities the world over erect for the greater delight of schoolchildren.

What is a swing doing in the forecourt of a village temple? How can a swing become a means to religious awareness? This might seem an unduly narrow topic for a lengthy essay, but I believe it has ramifications which extend deep into anthropologically unknown territory, to the point of enabling us to sketch out what may be the neuropsychological foundations of very widespread religious practices. Such biological considerations, however, may be reserved until a much later stage, since there is a great deal to be said within a more narrowly ethnographic framework, concerning Muria 'swinging' and allied ritual techniques, including possession trances. And it is * The Curl Prize Essay for 1978.

Man (N.S.) 15, 219-48.

220 ALFRED GELL

of considerable interest to describe these techniques since they are part and parcel of a tradition in Indian religion which is both ancient and widespread.' The separateness of the Muria as a 'tribal' group, from the mainstream of Hindu culture, has not prevented them from absorbing many elements of Hindu tradition; in the next section I will situate the Alor swing in its pan- Indian context. My prime objective, however, is not so much to arrive at a better understanding of ritual swinging as an isolated institution, but to interpret it as a particular case of what may be a far more general mode of religious awareness. In the following section I take up the theme of equilibrium play in Muria religion, together with an abbreviated account of secular vertigo.2 The final section proposes a possible neuropsychological mechanism underlying possession and allied behaviour.

The swing in the Hindu tradition In India, the ritual use of swings is by no means confined to Bastar District

(Madhya Pradesh) where the Muria live. They are part of an ancient tradition. Keith (I970: 3 5 i) describes the vedic ritual of Mahavrata, whereby the priest, swinging to and fro, strengthened the sun at the season of the winter solstice. In a play dating from C. A.D. 900 we find a clear reference to the festivals at which the Gods are ritually 'swung' which have persisted to the present day (Lanman I90i). In a survey dating originally from I927 Bose dealt comprehensively with ancient and modern swing-festivals in India, where they commonly occur as part of the Spring Festival (Holi) (Bose I967: ch. 5). He is of the opinion that although now associated with the figure of Krishna, these ceremonies are not of Brahminical origin. I lack the space to reproduce any details of recent accounts of swing-festivals, but they may be said to fall into two classes which correspond to the two apparently contradictory 'aspects' of the Alor swing with which I began, i.e. pleasure and self-mortification.

'Pleasurable' swinging is often associated with Krishna, and is not different from purely secular swinging except that it is performed (by women and children) on ritual occasions. An excellent example of this kind of ritual swinging is the tij festival described by 0. Lewis (I958: 205) for the Delhi region. This spring-time swinging from the boughs of trees is implicitly erotic, and its religious significance, in so far as it has any, is confined to permitting a temporary relaxation of the normal constraints on young women making merry in public, i.e. the celebration of feminine (fertile) disorder. Very different, and coming from quite the other end of the religious spectrum, are the kinds of 'mortificatory' swinging practised, for instance, in honour of Shiva during the Bengal festival of Carak (Chattopadhyaya I96I: 5 I sqq.). Adult male devotees swing over a fiery pit, and are subsequently swung round a tall pole from which they are suspended by hooks, nowadays inserted into a belt they wear, but which anciently used to pierce their flesh. Photographs and descriptions of 'hook-swinging' in south India and Ceylon are to be found in Hocart (I927) and Thurston (I906: ch. io).

Hook-swinging is comparable, in most respects, with other forms of

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religious self-mortification such as flagellation with chains, piercing the body with skewers, fire-walking and so on. But it always involves, I believe, a strong element of identification with the God, who is also conceptualised as a being who 'swings' and who is often swung, in effigy, in the course of the rites. Bose gives accounts of these God-swinging rituals from many parts of India, and it would be reasonable to assume that the activities of the swinging devotees are modelled on those of the divinities themselves. This is certainly borne out in the case of the Muria as we shall see (Bose I967: 59 sqq. and for further references Walker I968, Frazer I923 and for a magnificent parallel from Siam, Quarich Wales I93 I).

Despite the divergent forms which ritual swinging takes, whether as a devotional ordeal, a semi-secular sport for young girls, or a form of homage paid to the idols of the Gods, I think we can perceive a thread of continuity running through the surface texture of diversity. All swinging relates to the experience of vertiginous play, and has to do with the pervasive relation which exists between bodily equilibrium and disequilibrium and states of conscious- ness. In all swinging, there is an element of self-surrender to a loss of individual equilibrium, and the contexts in which ritual swinging is found, despite their overt disparity, are all such as to make one suspect that this loss of equilibrium is capable of being invested with religious significance. Gentle rockings induce ease and peaceful repose, recalling the rockings of the baby's cradle (which incidentally is calledjhula in Hindi, the same word as for 'swing') while more vigorous motions of the swing induce exhilaration, terror, or ecstasy. In confronting the problem of ritual swinging, we should recognise that the swing is an artefact whose use is the modification of mental states. In what follows I will attempt to enlarge our understanding of ritual swinging not by concentrating narrowly on swinging as such, but by pursuing the theme of the 'techniques du corps' (Mauss I950) associated with the pursuit of vertigo in their total cultural context. For, despite the widespread occurrence of ritual swinging in India, the institution never attains to such a degree of elaboration where it might be profitable to seek to explain it as a thing in itself. The neglect the Alor swing receives in Elwin's text is not, perhaps, so unjustified in terms of its intrinsic importance. But the Alor swing has, nonetheless, great value as an indicator of a certain style of religious awareness, which must be understood in general terms if it is to be understood at all. Where the Muria are concerned, it is.immediately apparent that the use of the swing by possessed mediums is but one of a large class of linked ritual institutions, all of which seem to involve an assault, in some way, on the equilibrium sense. The final significance of the Alor swing is that it points us in the direction of vertigo.

Vertigo in Muria religion

(i) Generalities The Muria recognise three main classes of divinity, each of whose cult is in

the hands of a different class of specialist. (i) The cult of the divinity yayalmutte is associated with the Bastar 'state' Goddess Danteshwari Mata, the localised

222 ALFRED GELL

'refraction' of whom is worshipped in the guddi or temple. The officiants of the Goddess cult are known as pujari and may be drawn from among the local 'caste' Hindus, or from among the Muria (Gond) population. The visible 'vehicles' representing the Goddess and her offspring take the form of lat, long bamboo poles with flags attached, as well as permanent wooden images, peg- like in form, set into the floor of the temple. The Goddess and related divinities can also reveal themselves by possessing individuals and speaking through them. Such a medium (siraha) is not necessarily a pujari. Ritual swinging is confined to mediums who are possessed by yayalmutte as I will describe.

(2) The large class of purely Muria village-cum-clan divinities are known as pen and are lodged in separate temples known as rawr. The human intermediaries of the village divinities are mediums (lesk). The hereditary village medium associated with a pre-eminent village God is the mur lesk or vadder, but he is likely to be only one of a number of men who will be subject to possession by an assortment of divinities on a more contingent basis. Such a medium may perform curing ceremonies which involve possession as well as becoming possessed in the course of religious festivals. Other mediums- generally younger men-will only become possessed during festivals.

The 'vehicles' of the village divinities take two forms, distinguishable from those of the state Goddess refractions. These are (a) kolang-short wooden poles decorated with plumes and bells, and (b) the anga or 'log-god' constructions which I will describe in detail below.

(3) The cult of tallurmutte, the earth Goddess is in the hands of the gaita, the hereditary Muria village priest. The Earth Goddess has no temple and no movable vehicles, being associated with stone cairns in the forest. Possession behaviour plays no part in the cult of tallurmutte. In what follows I am exclusively concerned with the cult of the pen and yayalmutte and no more need be said about tallurmutte in this connexion.

(ii) Festivals There is no need to go into further details regarding Muria theology at this

point. Suffice to say that the divinities are thought to be supernatural, but otherwise generally similar to human beings and to go through essentially the same life-experiences as human beings do. The pen is born to certain parents, grows up, marries, reproduces (sometimes out of wedlock in the case of susceptible young goddesses) and may eventually die. Divinities are not morally perfect, and their behaviour inspires indignation as well as awe. The motives of the divinities in sending misfortunes or demanding extra sacrifices are the essentially human ones of jealousy or caprice. And the divinities like to enjoy themselves and participate in social occasions here in the middle world, called by the Muria manjapur 'the place of laughter' or fun-land. The essential humanity and sociability of the divinities is perfectly brought out by the name given to the major Muria religious festival which occurs during the dry season (May-June). The festival is called pen karsana 'the divine games' (literally: 'God-playing'). The divinities come to visit the village, animating the images and vehicles in the village temples, and inspiring the mediums.

ALFRED GELL 223

The festival lasts fourteen days in all and during this period no work may be done in the fields. The Muria are not without a work ethic of their own, but at this time they devote their energies totally to dancing, drinking and travelling from place to place for the purposes of enjoyment. Nightly, there are dances held at the ghotul (the village dormitory for the young of both sexes) at which the whole village will be present as well as visitors from elsewhere- and also the divinities who dance along with the populace. Such a night dance, if the occasion is a big one, may be attended by five hundred or more dancers, magnificently decked out, some of whom may have walked for considerable distances in order to attend.

The atmosphere of the night dance and the subsequent day of 'Divine Games' is extremely impressive, not to say magical. In what follows, I will abstract only certain elements for detailed discussion-in particular, the dances with the log-god or anga, and the behaviour of the possessed mediums-but it must be stressed that these take place only against a background of total communal participation in the ritual occasion. The very notion of 'possession' as it applies to religious virtuosi, the mediums into whom the divinity enters and through whom the divinity speaks, is only a heightened and individualised form of the transformation that affects the community as a whole during the festival time. This is particularly apparent in connexion with Muria singing and dancing, which never feature solos, but which draw on the combined resources of massed bodies of performers acting as far as possible in complete unanimity. Not only is the individuality of the dancer or singer de-emphasised, but the long drawn-out, hypnotic character of the dance seems intentionally designed to take the performers to a point at which a combination of fatigue, over-breathing and auditory stress must cause them to experience themselves and their situation in non-normal ways. The form of the dance is also significant. Muria generally dance line abreast, or in a large circle, and very frequently with linked hands and arms around the waist or shoulder. The line of dancers is a single unit which has to think and move as one. There is no need to dwell at length on the possible effects of this dance style on the body image of the individual dancer in the line. Anyone with experience of the more antiquated style of western ballroom dancing will be quite familiar with the sensation of a subtle shift in the line of 'inside' and 'outside'. What is, I think, characteristic of Muria dancing is the emphasis it places on symmetrical as opposed to complementary movements between partners in the dance, and the absence of expressive or solo elements. And this reflects, I would argue, the instrumental role of the dance in Muria culture as a device for inducing non- normal psychological states in the performers, rather than as a means for communicating symbolic statements mimetically.

Muria religion is, of course, much more than a technology of 'altered states of consciousness'. It is a belief system, a theodicy, and at the same time the intricate genealogical and alliance relationships between the various clan and village divinities are both a charter for practical social relationships and a compendium of indigenous historical traditions. Without wishing to deny for a moment that Muria religion is in the highest degree sociologically relevant, the present essay is devoted to examining it from a psychological and aesthetic

224 ALFRED GELL

perspective, rather than pursuing the correspondences between it and its social milieu. Muria religion is not, in fact, particularly rich in 'symbolic' elements, mirroring so faithfully as it does, the stream of events in 'manjapur' (the everyday world), and would not appear conducive to the kind of 'crypto- analytic' approach which I have been tempted to employ elsewhere (cf. Gell I975). Though I shall have something to say about certain symbolic elements in Muria ritual (e.g., horses), the primary objective of this essay is the understanding of states of mind, or modes of religious awareness, rather than the decoding of covert symbols. The Muria, in participating in major religious festivals, seek, and derive, physical, emotional and aesthetic satisfaction from the performance, which alone would be sufficient to explain the persistence of the religious institutions of which they are part. Even if a psychological account of ritual leaves unanswered basic questions having to do with the institutional framework of religious life and its grounding in social relations, it opens up a series of not intrinsically less significant problems concerning the psychic and indeed ultimately physiological mediation of institutional forms.

We may conclude that although the Divine Games are based on a set of theological beliefs, and correspond to certain implicit sociological necessities, they are, for participants, primarily relevant as an occasion for actively pursuing and achieving certain special experiential states which perhaps border on ecstasy, though always submitting them to the collective discipline of a dance style which is military in its precision, if not in its metaphors. For the laity, so to speak, there is only the collective abandon which sweeps through the long lines of dancers: for the virtuosi, it is otherwise, and physical autonomy is conceded, not to the next dancer in the line, but to an invisible presence. It is to this surrender, this vertigo, that I will now turn.

(iii) The 'log-gods' (anga) The anga is a quadrangular framework of two thick poles of dense wood

(mango, in the instances known to me) joined by lighter cross-pieces.3 In addition, there is a forward projecting 'head' piece, roughly carved into the likeness of a horse, which, given the rarity of horses in Muria country, we may gloss as a strange, high-prestige beast, associated with authority and religious power. The anga is blackened with smoke and repeated oilings, and is further decorated with silver bands, feather plumes, bells and suchlike. I have made no trial of lifting an anga but I estimate that one must weigh in the vicinity of eighty to one hundred pounds.

The way in which these images are used during the 'Divine Games' brings out very forcibly the centrality of the idea of an 'assault on the equilibrium sense' in Muria religion. Once offerings have been made to them, the anga begin to 'play'. Supported on the shoulders of two, or sometimes four youths from the ghotul dormitory, the anga is stood in the dance-plaza, facing the band of musicians who, on these occasions are provided by the ganda (Weaver) caste. Ganda drumming is both loud and rapid, and quickly establishes a mood of excitement and dissociation.4 While the ganda musicians concentrate on their

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art, the anga-carrying youths gaze outwards with vague, expectant expressions. After a minute or so, the anga begins to sway back and forth perceptibly. One should perhaps say that it is the youths who sway, rather than the anga, but that would be to traduce the extraordinary verisimilitude of the illusion given to the audience, and I believe the youths as well, that it is the anga which is the active partner, and that the youths are no more than passive supports. Elwin's admirable photograph of an anga in action (Plate XXXVI) is captioned, appropriately, 'The Anga asserts its will', which is precisely the impression one receives.

In order to understand how this impression originates, it is necessary to visualise the anga as an inverted pendulum mounted on springy supports (the youths) which has a natural tendency to convert upwards (supporting) impulses into various kinds of lateral and twisting oscillatory motions, storing kinetic energy and subsequently releasing it in perhaps unforeseeable ways. The youths are not, as separate individuals, simply supporting a constant proportion of the total weight of the anga; they are in continuous, but largely involuntary interaction with one another via pushes, pulls and tilting movements initiated by the other carriers, multiplied by the inertial properties of the anga itself. To begin with these movements are only slight, and cancel each other out; but as the dance continues, a pattern seems to be established, a rhythmicity which is 'unwilled' and which seems to-which indeed does- originate in the animate mass of the anga. Before long, the anga, seeming to have taken control entirely, launches off into a whirling and plunging dance of the utmost ferocity. The dancers, not in trance, are nonetheless possessed. They are 'outside themselves' because their physical equilibrium, their centre of gravity, is now lodged in the ponderous, but at the same time, sensitive structure of the God. The path of the anga in space is the outcome of an infinitely complex play of forces, an equation in which the contribution of this or that individual is indistinguishable, and what the youths have lost of individual autonomy, the anga has gained.

The anga dance is a prime example of the assault on the equilibrium sense in Muria religion. What needs to be emphasised, I think, is the way in which the divinity which invests the anga is not present simply as an idea, something merely represented by the image, but as a tangible physical quantity perceived somesthetically rather than intellectually constructed. Muria realise the divinity via proximal rather than distal perceptual channels, as a force acting directly on and through the body. The anga, one notes, does not correspond visually to the imagined form of the divinity; in so far as the pen are considered to have forms which can be visualised at all, they are human, yet the anga shows us a vaguely horse-like creature. The divinity inhabits the anga, animates it, but is not visually imitated by it. We are accustomed to the idea that those possessed by spirits or divinities are the 'horses'5 of the spirits (I. M. Lewis I97I: 58); here, the total assemblage of anga plus carriers is such a 'horse' and the divinity is the invisible presence which spurs this assemblage into action. Or, more precisely, the divinity is present not 'in' the anga but in the kinetic forces which are generated during the dancing.

And these forces are not without a definite form of their own. If we return

226 ALFRED GELL

to a consideration of the assemblage of the anga plus the carriers, we can perceive, in the pattern of steadily intensifying oscillations to which it is subject, a positive-feedback situation in which compensatory movements, initiated by the carriers in order to stabilise the assemblage, tend inexorably to contribute to the overall instability of the system. This corresponds to the destructive 'hunting' oscillation in cybernetic systems (Wiener I948: I4;

Bateson I958: 288). The element of over-compensation is contributed by the pendulum effect of the heavy anga which converts vertical stabilising movements into unpredictable sideways and rotary shifts in the overall equilibrium. Because the carriers have inadequate feedback (as individuals) adequately to predict the effects of their actions, they tend to seek feedback by attuning themselves to the 'will' of the assemblage as a whole. Letting it 'find its own equilibrium', the youths 'push' when it pushes, they 'dive' when it dives, and so forth, still further contributing to the positive feedback and the intensification of the oscillatory movements which only come to an end when the carriers tacitly accept the need to stop moving altogether lest total vertigo engulf them all-at which point there is a lull in the dancing. It will be seen that at the height of the dance the carriers' motor performances will have, for them, a marked subjective quality of un-willed-ness, and at the same time they will perceive the anga as 'imposing' itself on them, shaping their responses in a very definite way by depriving them of the power to control their own equilibrium except by responding as the anga demands. This is vividly communicated to the audience as well, if only vicariously.

The anga dance is specifically oriented towards disrupting the normal sense of self-possession on the part of the carriers. Divine intervention takes the form of the creation of the 'gap' between the structures of intentionality which underlie normal motor activities, and the consequences of the carriers' actions as perceived by themselves. The dancers' equilibrium, instead of being automatic and unthinking, has to be defined and preserved not simply in relation to his body, his movements and intentions, but in relation to his participation in the anga assemblage as a whole. In other words, vertigo threatens intentionality, and the structures of intentionality underlie our sense of 'self'. I will return to this theme in connexion with possession later on.

(iv) The Divine poles andflags The assault on the equilibrium sense is not restricted to the anga and their

dance. Other divinities are lodged in vehicles which have similar though less dramatic properties. Notable in this connexion are the long bamboo poles (lat) decorated with bells and flags. These are 'danced' at pen karsana in somewhat the same manner as the anga images, balanced on the shoulders of one or more carriers. Any person who has attempted to walk or run while balancing a twenty-foot length of springy bamboo over the shoulders, will have no difficulty in understanding the mechanism embodied in this particular vehicle of the divinity. The vibrating bamboo pole is a perfect image of the hunting oscillation I spoke of earlier and it communicates its peculiar life to the carrier

ALFRED GELL 227

in a most sensible fashion, now threatening to leap from his grasp, now forcing him down into the earth. Like the anga, the bamboo pole contradicts the normal state of integration which exists between actions and their consequences in the external world, and moreover the length and vigorous motions of the pole produce marked disturbances in normal bodily equilibrium. Such long poles decorated with flags and plumes are also subject to friction from the air and wind pressure as an additional complicating influence.

Little need be added here, except that it should be mentioned that the lat poles and the sensations they communicate are possibly thematically related to the experience of carrying heavy loads on flexible bamboo carrying-yokes (kaveri) which is a basic experience for Muria males-wheeled transport being little used in this area. Kaveri, of course, are much shorter and are specifically designed to function as a suspension system which cushions the up-and-down movements of the carrier's shoulder so that it is not communicated to the loads attached to the ends of the yoke, which travels forwards in a straight line, thereby minimising the effort needed on the carrier's part. The ergonomically efficient use of the carrying-yoke requires a nice judgement as to the pace and gait to be adopted by the carrier, which-and this is the important point here-are determined in every instance by the springiness of the yoke and the weight of the loads, and not by the carrier's whim. In other words, the yoke imposes its 'will' on the carrier, who adjusts his gait as to some external compulsion. Turning back to the divine poles, we see this situation in magnified and exaggerated form. The pole is no longer a helpful tool to which the body can be conveniently adjusted, but is the repository of an active spirit.

(v) Swings I should, in order to preserve the chronological order of events, only

embark on a discussion of the swings having first outlined the trance induction procedures, for it is only once they are possessed by a divinity that mediums have recourse to the swing. But I discuss them here because in certain respects the ritual swinging of the mediums reflects, in inverted form, the basic kinetic schema of Muria religion as it emerged in the analysis of the anga dance. The agna oscillates on the flexible support provided by the bodies of the carriers: the swing, on the other hand, is itself a flexible support on which the medium oscillates. Moreover, while the carriers are not 'possessed'-it is the anga which is possessed in becoming the object-vehicle of the divinity-in the case of the swing and the medium who rides on it this position is reversed. It is the body of the medium not the swing which is the vehicle of the divinity, and the swing is the oscillatory passive support (see figs. i & 2). The mechanics of swing-use preserves the privileged position of the divinities as beings who ride: at the same time it permits the role of 'rider' to be played by a human being in a condition of temporary exaltation, as well as being conducive, as we shall see, to the attainment of this 'divinised' status.

At a certain point in pen karsana, then, the possessed medium becomes a God who rides on a swing. We may briefly pause here to inquire into the nature of

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this behaviour and ask questions as to its meaning. To what conception of the divine is this activity (of swinging) appropriate? Muria swinging comprises elements of both the mortificatory ritual swinging pattern described earlier and also the secular-erotic or 'playfull' type of swinging. The medium who swings has mortified his flesh prior to seating himself on the swing (see below) but the swinging itself seems to be pleasurable and I did not see swings with nails in the seat on the lines of the Alor example. The model for Muria swinging seems to be the 'God-swinging' rituals in which images of the God, or individuals representing the God temporarily, are swung as an act of ritual

FiGUREi. Medium on a swing.

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service. That the divinities are conceptualised as 'swinging' beings, we may infer from the brass images of the divinities seated on swings to which homage is paid inside the temple, even as the mediums are performing this very action in the plaza outside. These images are very common and occur in conjunction with images of divinities riding on elephants (the most common type of all) and winged horses6 (see figs. 3 & 4). We also find images of divinities simply standing, but these are never so elaborate. We may definitely conclude from a study on the iconology of these brass images that occupancy of an elevated position atop some mobile platform is a very cogent expression of superior or

FIGU'RE 2.. A young Muria lesk. This young man's divergent squint was visible at all times but became much more pronounced while he w'as 'm trance.

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divine status in Muria eyes. To swing, to ride, is to enjoy the vertiginous triumphs the Gods alone can know. We further recall that in the days of the rajahs of Bastar, who were considered to be divine by the Murias, the rajah made his public appearances mounted on an elephant, or in a vast elevated juggernaut drawn by hundreds of men, or, more latterly, in a splendid cream coloured Rolls coupe whose ruins are still to be seen outside the palace at Jagdalpur. Temporal power and divine prestige are closely linked in Bastar, whose traditional political arrangements invite many comparisons with the 'God-Kings' of neighbouring Orissa (cf. Mahapatra I976). And in a country overwhelmingly without wheeled transport until quite recently, those who move without effort are superior beings.

But in this effortless motion there is also a certain peril which ordinary mortals, their feet planted on the earth, do not face. Elephants in motion sway alarmingly, as anyone who has ever ridden on one will know. However docile the creature may be, it is endowed with a will of its own, which it might exercise in unforeseeable ways. But this is not so much of the essence as the fact

FIGURE 3. Divinities on a swing. Brass temple image collected in Narvayanpur, Bastar district.

ALFRED GELL 23I

that riding on an elephant, or a swing, or a horse, is a question of balance, of maintaining bodily equilibrium in a situation in which the support on which the body rests is continually tilting one way or the other. The skilled rider learns to preserve an even distribution of weight around an axis passing through the midline of the body, no matter how violently his mount capers and rears. And in this maintenance of endangered equilibrium there is a definite exhilaration, which other forms of locomotion do not provide.

Whence this exhilaration comes is still an obscure question. A recent handbook of the physiology of the vestibular apparatus contains no elucidation of the pleasures of this sense (Kornhtiber I 974), while a similar compilation of play studies (Bruner et al. 1976) fails to mention equilibratory play, prominent though this type of behaviour is among children. To my knowledge, the only extensive discussion of the role of equilibratory play in cultural systems is provided by Caillois (I96I). In his book Man, play and games, Caillois makes many points which are very germane to the theme of this article. He has

FIGURE 4. Divinities riding an elephant. Note the emphasis on the vertical. Brass temple image collected in Narvayanpur.

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incisively demonstrated the close links between childhood dizzy-making games (analogous instances to which are also found in the animal kingdom) and certain religious practices and cultural forms (I96I: 23 sq., 6o, 62, 8I sq.). It would be out of place here to summarise Caillois's brilliant and far-ranging synthesis, but what deserves emphasis, I think, is his insight into the cognitive implications of apparently innocuous play behaviour such as whirling around on the spot, swinging, sliding and so forth-behaviour which is commonly dismissed as purely 'motor' and hence uninteresting from a cognitive-aesthetic standpoint.

Characteristic of play-and it is with playful activities that we are concerned here, in seeking tQ understand the swinging of the mediums-is the way it raises to the level of explicitness the performance of behavioural routines which are, or will become, subliminal. It is activity engaged in for its own sake, and it always takes place within a frame which isolates it from the context of action performed with an ulterior end in view. Play is abstracted from the stream of ongoing activities, and within the play-frame particular activities are abstracted from their routine contexts and are focused on and so to speak 'savoured'. It is the simple and utterly automatic activity of balancing, which, in the riding situation, is raised to this explicit level. The equilibrating skills which are so much to the fore in riding ponies, or swinging on swings, or playing on see-saws or roundabouts, are normally quite lost to awareness in ordinary locomotor activity, for all that they are as crucial to their proper performance. That there is more to these pastimes I would not deny-control or dominance of the animal or play-device is clearly involved as well. Nonetheless, it seems to me that swings, ponies and so forth give pleasure because they provide situations in which the equilibratory activity of the body during locomotion can be experienced in the absence of the motor activities which locomotion normally requires. Mobile platforms are aids to what might be called behavioural abstraction or bracketing. The motion aspect of locomotion is carried by the support, while the rider is free to experience the equilibratory aspect of motion in isolation. Generally, however, behavioural abstraction is accompanied by an intensification of the normal demands that are made on the behavioural routine which is being 'played'. The support is so designed and manipulated that skill, courage and sang-froid are called for in its management, and even if, as is the case with playground swings and well- trained elephants, no real dangers are to be expected, the idea of danger is usually present. In the case of equilibrium play, this is a natural consequence of the fact that loss of equilibrium is associated from the very beginnings of our motor experience with minor, and possibly even major, physical hurts. The role of gravity in relation to human experience and cognition is a little- explored topic (Strauss I973; Sobel I968).

Why should the Muria represent their divinities as engaging in equilibrium play? That they should be represented as playing is understandable enough, at a superficial level, given that the rituals at which they show themselves are called 'the Divine Games'. But why have such playful Gods at all? I would answer the question as follows: the Muria represent their divinities as experiencing the world in the same modalities as the Muria employ when they

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seek to have access to them. The Muria, that is to say, experience their divinities through engaging in certain activities involving the body, and in particular, the equilibrium sense: when they represent their divinities through enactments (as with the swinging of the mediums) or by icons (temple images of gods on elephants, swings, horses, etc.), they do so in situations in which this same sense modality is brought into play.

That the (imagined) activities of the divinities should reflect the nature of the human activities in the course of which they are brought into being is natural enough, especially in the context of a religious tradition which stresses the psychic unity of men and divinities, and their coming together in the course of possession trance. The possessed medium seated on his swing is not, therefore, simply a human being performing the actions of a divinity, he is a divinity performing the actions which render experience divine, which abstract it and set it apart from mundane experience. Not only do mortals achieve access to the divine by means of techniques of the body: it is as if the divinities themselves must have recourse to such techniques in order to realise themselves.

The ritual use of swings involves therefore the unification of a certain idea of the divinities as beings who realise their essential nature via vertiginous play, riding the plunging anga, animating the bamboo poles, swaying back and forth on the swings-and a technique which is essentially human, for gaining access to these divinities which also crucially involves the equilibrium sense. But the latter part of this proposition remains unsubstantiated until we have taken a closer look at the trance induction procedures themselves. To this topic I will now turn.

(vi) Possession There would appear to be two main avenues to the trance state, which we

might call the active and passive methods. The passive method is that of meditation, the suppression of external stimuli, focusing on some meditative object such as a mandala, and the use sometimes of relaxing drugs. This is not the method seen among the Muria, and we should not perhaps say that they were even 'in a trance state' at all, were our usage of that term based on the examples of meditation- and drug-induced trances which have been subjected to much recent study (Tart I968; Naranjo & Ornstein I97I). Much less is known about the ecstatic, hyper-aroused trance state (Goodman I972), less redolent of monastic seclusion and restraint than of the excesses of Voodoo and Condomble (Metraux I959). Nonetheless, during the Divine Games (pen karsana) many persons are seen to achieve an ecstatic state quite distinct from their own normal behaviour, and from that of bystanders who do not fall into the trance-prone category (women and children) or who do not happen to be individually susceptible. Three psycho-physiological mechanisms have been mentioned as possible causative factors in the induction of the hyper-aroused trance state: (i) generalised 'sensory overload' (Cox I969: i IO, cited in Lex I 976: 28 i); (ii) chemical changes in the body as a result of over-breathing; and

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(iii) the consequences of rhythmic stimulation by sound or light pulses at a frequency approximating to that of natural alpha brain rhythms (Neher I 962; Sturtevant I 968). I would not discount any of these proposed mechanisms, but it should be noted ad (i) not everybody goes into trance at pen karsana, though all are subject, presumably, to the same conditions of 'sensory overload'; ad (ii) that trance induction is a rapid procedure, too rapid to give rise to severe hypoxia, and that mediums do not appear to breathe abnormally before, during or after the trance session; and ad (iii) the same objections as ad (i) apply, and moreover trances are routinely induced without rapid drumming, and, indeed, without any music at all.

In addition to the possible effects of these mechanisms, I think we should recognise that certain patterns of motor activity are capable, in and of themselves, of producing alterations in consciousness, as well as being signs that such an alteration in the normal state of consciousness has taken place. The external indicators that a particular medium has been entered by a divinity are certain motor patterns which produce changes in the medium's own internally monitored self-world relationship, reinforcing his commitment to the schema of possession. 'Ecstatic' behaviour by mediums is not simply random, but comprises a technique for the manipulation of consciousness and sensory-motor integration. It is necessary, therefore, to examine it in some detail.

The individuals whom I observed going into trance seemed to do so in sequence of regular stages. To begin with, the body is held rigid, the neck extended, and a slight trembling begins to become apparent, particularly affecting the forearms and hands. The eyes stare fixedly but later the eyelids are seen to flutter and droop. The trembling seems to be synchronous with the music, if any, though it is also present if the medium is entering trance without the assistance of drumming. At this stage, it is my impression that the medium is consciously straining to achieve some abnormal mental state. Some youths, though, are to all appearances unwilling subjects who cannot prevent themselves from trembling when the drums are playing. All mediums assert, of course, that they have been forcibly 'entered' by the divinity and that their trances are not voluntarily induced. The initial trembling rises and falls in intensity, now affecting the whole body, now dying away to a mere tremor. At this stage, I also noted violent extensions of the limbs, especially the arms and neck, which are strained upwards for brief periods, then held limp and drooping. Often the neck is extended, and the head shaken rapidly from side to side. Another frequent gesture is a violent yawning accompanied by staring eyes and groans, followed by a trembling of the whole body and a swaying motion. The muscles primarily involved during the induction stage are those of the neck, the upper limbs and hands. Mediums may also kneel rather than stand, while inducing trance. In this case, the medium will sway forwards and backwards from the waist, while rapidly flexing and extending the forearm. The medium pummels on the ground with his fists. The eyes may be closed and the teeth clenched. This grimace is followed by staring upwards, open- mouthed and rigid flexing of the fingers. Subsequently, the medium may adopt a standing position.

It is only after these preliminaries that the medium will start to move about

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and begin to perform the leaps and sudden darting movements which are indicative of the most extreme degree of possession. During this time, the trembling and limb extensions continue, but there is greater variety of movement. The medium dances in a frenzied, hopping style, quite unlike the dance style adopted by men in non-possession contexts (which is measured and serene). At this point, the medium may be handed lengths of barbed iron chain with which he lashes his back and arms. Some mediums are clearly shamming during this part of the performance, but others, equally clearly, are not. Bloody welts are sometimes raised, and I recall the expression of amazement on a medium's face when the thick stick with which he was belabouring himself simply disintegrated in his hand. Even if displays of self-mortification are theatrical in many instances (the flail being checked just at the moment of impact) some degree of heightened tolerance for pain, or imperviousness to it, is undoubtedly achieved, especially by the younger and more vigorous mediums. The climax of the dance often takes the form of a sudden total rigidification of the medium's whole body. He falls to the earth in a rigid, contorted position. Those standing by come to his assistance and attempt to bend and massage his stiffened limbs. Also seen are onsets of loss of normal muscle tone, especially in the medium's neck and arms. The head rolls from side to side in a doll-like fashion, and the arms dangle limply at the sides. Sometimes this limpness is general and the medium lies prone on the earth for a spell.

In between episodes of violent dancing, shaking and stretching, mediums experience moments of relative calm, though some degree of tremor is apparent at all times. During these 'rest' periods the mediums will embrace one another, and may answer questions put to the divinity who is possessing them. It is outside the scope of this article to deal at length with the verbal behaviour of mediums, but in general it may be said that these question-and-answer sessions are lacking in symbolic or mythopoeic elements and revolve round the technicalities of Man/God relations (sacrifices, offerings, etc.). They are conducted in a frequently acrimonious fashion, not unlike that seen in mundane commercial or exchange transactions. Mediums will also, at this stage, exchange tika-s (ritual dabs of pigment and oil placed on the forehead) with one another and with members of the congregation. It is while the medium is on a 'plateau'-between episodes of violent dancing-that he will have recourse to the swing. Seating himself there is an indication to standers-by that he wishes to be rocked back and forth. Thereafter-sessions on the swing are not lengthy-he will either come out of trance or resume his dancing. Another pattern of behaviour displayed by mediums at this stage is relevant to my earlier remarks about the religious implications of 'riding'. When, as is the case for example during dances held outside the village ghotul, the mediums are surrounded by long chains of girls with linked arms performing ghotul dances, the medium will leap onto the shoulders of the dancers, and ride upon them, being carried back and forth as the chain moves this way and that. This behaviour has obvious similarities not only with the resort to the swing, but also to the anga riding on the shoulders of the young men.

Mediums come out of trance without much special behaviour. Generally,

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they blink their eyes and look around them as if waking up and puzzled to find themselves in such surroundings. As already mentioned, they claim to have no memory of their recent experiences, and will deny all responsibility for anything they may have done or said.

How deep, how genuine, are Muria trances? Because of their violent, episodic character, it would be unreasonable to expect Muria trances to be all of a piece: and there are also many occasions for trance performances of a more formal or perfunctory nature, as well as many mediums, some of whom are talented actors and some of whom may be susceptible to altered states of consciousness. The issue of genuineness cannot be resolved in any simple way. What is notable, however, is the extent to which it is the young, inexperienced mediums who manifest the most extreme behavioural aberrations, and who appear the most dissociated, while the older, more experienced and indeed more important mediums, frequently seem to be enacting a trance rather than undergoing one. I would interpret this as evidence that while the trance induction procedures effectively produce an altered state of consciousness in inexperienced mediums, in some cases actually involuntarily, frequent repetitions of the performance over a number of years results in the medium's habituating to the induction procedures to such an extent that the cognitive disturbances they produce are greatly decreased in intensity. But the issue of trance depth is not one on which I am particularly concerned to focus attention. What all Muria trances, genuine or not, have in common, is certain motor patterns of behaviour, gestures and bodily techniques. I would suggest that depending on the subject concerned, and the situation, these techniques may result in alterations of a deeper or more superficial nature to conscious processes and sensori-motor integration. I want to focus on these techniques, and what mental processes they might conceivably affect.

Two elements are basic to trance induction: (i) modification of normal posture and muscle tone (standing to attention rigidly, extension of the neck, rigid flexing of the fingers and arms, staring and yawning); and (ii) voluntary and later uncontrollable shaking and trembling, shaking of the head, rapid movements of the forearms up and down, hand-flapping, dancing, leaping and twirling in the air. Though (i) and (ii) might seem to be antithetical, they are closely connected in that the maintenance of an unnaturally rigid posture precedes and gives rise to trembling of the limbs, and that even while the medium is dancing, thejerkiness of his movements and posturings are evidence of his increased muscle tonus. We may venture a direct comparison here with certain features that were identified earlier in relation to the anga dance, now carried out on the plane of the body itself rather than in the context of the assemblage of anga plus carriers. That is to say, the medium 'carries' his body- his head and upper limbs particularly-as if they were foreign objects, either unnaturally heavy, or, once they have started trembling, as if they were endowed with a life of their own. The medium is also seen frequently to watch his shaking or outstretched hands as if following their movements from afar.

In other words, as a preliminary interpretation, I would suggest that trance is induced as a result of the maintenance of a certain rigid posture (as a voluntary act) which, because of the increased muscle tonus, gives rise to

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trembling of the extremities and later shuddering affecting the whole body. Though the root cause of these involuntary tremors is willed (i.e., the rigid posture) they are not willed as particular manifestations of bodily activity, and hence bring into being a 'gap' between intentions and experience which is the thin end of the 'trance' wedge. The trembling is 'counteracted' not by relaxation, but by attempts to stiffen the offending limbs, which amounts to the application of positive feedback and results in still more pronounced shuddering affecting the whole body. We may speculate that sustained tensing of the musculature of the neck and upper thorax, in conjunction with optical fixation, interferes with the coordination of voluntary movements by damping the effectiveness of vestibular control processes. The neck musculature, the oculo-motor system and the basal ganglia which coordinate 'smooth' movements are all on one 'circuit' in the brain (Kornhuber I974: vol. II 58I sqq.), and it is known (from studies of figure-skaters, for instance) that staring fixedly in one direction decreases the involuntary eye-movements which are neurological indicators of the activity of the vestibular control system which regulates movement (Collins I966 cited in Collins I974). My suggestion would be that the medium's posture during trance induction is such that it generally interferes with the automatic regulation of movement, and tends to produce various kinds of tremors and an accompanying subjective feeling of strangeness. I will return to the discussion of 'deautomatisation'7 (which has been utilised in connexion with the passive, meditative, trance state) later on (Deikman I 966). What I would like to bring out here is the structural affinity between the elements of this possible interpretation of ecstatic trance and what I advanced earlier concerning the non-trance, but still extraordinary, experiences of riding, swinging and so forth. These are also de-automatisations, in that they raise to explicitness the equilibrating activities which are normally embedded in motor activity. Swinging and riding make use of a physical support whose independent activity permits the behavioural abstraction of equilibratory skills: Muria trance is only more complex than this in that it is the body itself, in its own semi-autonomous role as a vibrating, shuddering entity that has been separated out, and divorced from its normal integral place in consciousness. It has become a vehicle, a horse, and the rediscovery, across the trance-gap between intention and experience (between rider and horse) of its immanent rhythms, its inertial properties, its manipulability-the very discoveries we make when learning to ride a horse or a bicycle-is the vertiginous triumphs of the trance state and the origins of its religious signification.

That there is more, a great deal more, to the trance state than the horse-and- rider approach I have sketched in, I would be the first to concede; nonetheless, I would like to enter a plea that some such interpretation be granted a place in the spectrum of analytical models available to us in attempting to understand these complex psycho-physical manifestations. Why I stress this aspect of trance particularly is that it seems to be basic and thematic in the context of Muria religion in particular. Within the field of Muria religious techniques, there is a definite concentration on equilibrium threatened and preserved, which spans the otherwise marked distinction between trance proper, where

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the body is the horse, the soul the rider, and the anga dance in which the god is the invisible rider and the assemblage of youths plus wooden image, the horse. It is only in the light of this model that we can see the unity which exists between the modes whereby the Muria have access to the divinity, and the mode of 'divinised' experience itself-the prevalence of vertigo.8

(vii) The Pujari making offerings I was originally persuaded that it might be fruitful to look at Muria religion

from the point of view adopted here by an incident which I observed while attending pen karsana at Mahimagwari. We should not think of the leisurely and meticulous duties of the hereditary priesthood (the gaitas and pujaris described earlier) as sharing many features with the ecstatic aspect of the cult of the pen and yayalmutte. Yet even here elements of the pursuit of vertigo can be seen to intrude. The specific instance I have in mind is the etiquette which governs the foot-position adopted by the pujari when making offerings to the vehicles of the divinities. The pujari (a Gond) makes an offering to the anga, koli, etc. by, so to speak, 'drawing a circle' in the air over the image which is being venerated with his cupped hands, which hold the incense-burner, the liquor for libations, or rice-offerings as the case may be. I was much struck by the trembling of the pujari's hands as he performed this 'encircling' gesture, which is accompanied by bending and straightening of the knees. This unwonted trembling ceased to be mysterious only when I noticed the curious way in which the pujari's feet were positioned. Instead of being placed side by side in the conventional manner, the pujari's feet were aligned fore-and-aft, with the Achilles tendon of the fore foot clamped tightly between the big toe and the adjoining toe of the rear foot, while both feet were angled in, so that the net effect was that the pujari was precariously balanced on a knife-edge consisting of the outer margins of the two feet while he was performing his complicated bending and stretching movements involving a changing distribution of weight. Here is explanation enough of the trembling of the pujari's cupped hands. But it is pertinent to ask why this position, of all the possible ones, should be enjoined on him. The pujari is in the presence of the divinity, for all he is not possessed, and in the trembling that affects him we are surely meant to discover the influence of the divinities to whom he is making his offerings. For what else is the divinity but a certain trembling, a certain vertiginous intoxication? The pujari's hands reproduce, in miniature, the 'hunting' oscillation which drives the anga through its whirling dance, and racks the bodies of the ecstatic mediums. Where there arises the 'gap' between intention and experience, a dislocation of input-output relations in conscious- ness, we are in the presence of divinity in its raw state. The pujari's foot position, apparently a trivial detail, complicates the wrangle with gravity which is part of the human condition, and in so doing instils a tincture of divinity into the simple act of 'making an offering'-a compact with the powers which express themselves in vertigo.

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(viii) Secular vertigo For lack of space, I cannot here describe the ramifications of secular vertigo

among the Muria. But let me briefly state only a few of the most salient facts. Muria socialisation practices, and childhood games emphasise violent rocking, swinging, jiggling up and down, and balancing to a marked degree. A quintessential Muria childhood amusement is the 'drunkenness game'. This consists of the child's whirling around on the spot till he becomes dizzy, whereupon crying 'I'm drunk, I'm drunk' he staggers about and eventually topples over. The immense popularity of this and other vertiginous games such as swinging in trees, testifies to a profound cultural preoccupation with dizziness, which pervades subsequent religious experience. We would also include under this rubric the employment of alchohol in Muria secular and religious life, where it plays a role akin to the use of hallucinogenic drugs in certain other religious traditions. But-here is the vital difference-it is not hallucinations, but specifically vestibular and kinaesthetic illusions which are the dominant feature in Muria drug use. For Muria, the primordial 'non- normal' experience, in play, in secular pleasure-seeking and in religious ecstasy, is the dislocation of the structures of body-world-self intentionality.

Postscript: trance and autism In this postscript I would like to return to the concept of'deautomatisation'

in relation to possession and other altered states of consciousness. Deikman, the originator of the term, argued that by 'reinvesting actions and percepts [normally carried on un-reflectively] with attention' the subject engaged in passive meditation experiences a heightening of awareness (I966). Such an individual is not simply aware of his world, but is aware of his awareness, of what is involved in terms of mental processes. One way of imagining this is to see deautomatisation as the insertion of an extra segment in the subject/world feedback chain (fig. 5). Unreflective mental activity is supplemented and perhaps even bypassed by mental processes under voluntary control. This is facilitated if the 'world' of which the subject is aware is devoid of novelty and distractions, and is pervaded with repetitive, self-generated stimuli (e.g. the reiterated syllable om - am - om ... ).

Ornstein (Naranjo & Ornstein I97I) speaks of a 'recycling' of psychic subroutines in meditative trance. Distractions from the environment, and anything in the way of preoccupation with a matter-of-fact task are suppressed, so that perceptual activity is abstracted from its normal accompaniments in the stream of consciousness and becomes graspable in itself, both as an activity of the subject and as a relation with a newly discovered world. This disembedding of perception as a mental discipline is akin to the abstractions on a behavioural level that I spoke of earlier in discussing equilibrium play. That is to say, it is not only through stillness and withdrawal that restructurings of cognition and self-world relations can be achieved, but also through many more active techniques, some involving highly skilled play activities (the Zen archery approach: Herrigel I959) and others the kind of violent physical activity such as the ritual behaviour discussed in this article.

240 ALFRED GELL

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But however diverse the techniques involved, ranging from 'just sitting' through to the more active conceptual experimentation of the Husserlain epoche, through to trance, possession and ecstasy, I believe they all point in the same direction. They are all means to the deautomatisation of experience which is otherwise embedded and lost within functional routines, and hence may be considered to be essentially playful.

In conclusion, I should like to mention one possible line of research, which may in future enable us to gain a more specific understanding of the psychology of 'deautomatisation' as it applies to the ecstatic trance, of the kind described in the body of this article. This is the suggestion that the equilibrium sense, or more precisely the brain mechanisms which among other things are responsible for monitoring bodily equilibrium, are actually profoundly important in the establishment and maintenance of normal self/world relations, and that it is consequently no mere happenstance that it is precisely these mental functions that the trance induction procedures described earlier seem designed to disrupt. My interest in the cognitive role of the vestibular system (the brain mechanisms concerned) was aroused initially by a series of brilliant papers on the problem of infantile autism, by an American neurobiologist and clinician, Edward M. Ornitz (1970; I97I; I973). The reader will probably have no difficulty in appreciating the reasons for my becoming suddenly so interested in an apparently extraneous topic, from the following collage of direct quotations from a review article on 'Childhood autism' by the author in question:

His mannerisms are complex and ritualistic, and while they clearly do not have the appearance of seizure discharges or involuntary movements, they are stereotyped and do not appear to be entirely voluntary. His deviant motility may involve only the hands, the lower extremities or the trunk and the entire body. He may wiggle his fingers, flap his hands, walk on his toes, rock, sway and whirl. He engages in excessive body rocking, swaying, head-banging and often rolls his head from side to side, and he may whirl around for many minutes. He will run in circles on his toes, whirl and make staccato-like lunging and darting movements and vigorously flap his hands. This hand flapping involves a rapid and untiring flexion and extension of the fingers and an alternating pronation and supination of the forearm. His lunging and darting is terminated by sudden stops. He arches his back and hyperextends his neck, maintaining this uncomfortable position for brief periods. There are episodes of intense staring. He may ignore new persons and features of his environment and walk into persons and objects as if he did not see them. His head-banging may develop into self-mutilation. Painful stimuli are ignored and he may not notice cuts and bruises. He may react to being picked up by becoming completely limp or rigid. Responsive smiling does not occur. He remains aloof, emotionally detached and his communication appears to be characterised by loose tangential thinking. His fantasies are bizarre and confused with reality ... (Ornitz I973).

It will be seen that this could very well be a description of a Muria lesk in action. While not every one of these behaviours is to be seen in every Muria trance, I have seen every one of them at some time or other. Of course, it should be clearly borne in mind that Ornitz is writing about mentally disturbed children, and the most severely affected ones at that, while the Muria medium is adult, and generally speaking in good mental and physical health. But the fact remains that in so far as one can use language to describe behaviour at all, the language needed to describe the common behaviour of a severely handicapped autistic child, and the language needed to describe the temporary

242 ALFRED GELL

aberrations of a medium in ecstatic trance, is substantially the same. We are entitled to assume, at least initially, that this is not solely a fact about language.

Are there some underlying features in common between trance and autism? Before proffering my suggestions as to this intriguing possibility, I must enter some very necessary qualifications. I have nothing to add to the currently existing scientific theories as to the causes of infantile autism. This distressing condition, whose very existence as a separate syndrome has been disputed, is one which is being studied by numerous workers in the fields of medicine and psychiatry, using many different approaches to a problem which has many different aspects (cf. Wing I966, Rutter I97I for general surveys). In what follows, I have singled out one particular theoretical approach, which is concerned with one aspect of a very complex whole, because it is of particular interest to me as an anthropologist. The 'vestibular dysfunction' approach to autism necessarily stands or falls on the basis of its adequacy in accounting for the whole spectrum of clinical observations of autistic children, and on the evidence of experiments designed to test it. I have no competence in such matters, which lie quite outside my province. Similarly, the views about the trance state put forward here must be justified, if at all, by direct investigation, and the existence of certain analogies between the behavioural characteristics of autistic children and mediums proves nothing by itself, even if it does suggest certain structural affinities.

I have-argued that the ecstatic trance combines an assault on the equilibrium sense, with a re-structuring of self/world relationships. The 'equilibrium sense' consists of the gravity and movement sensing organs in the inner ear (semicircular canals etc., in the 'vestibule' whence the word 'vestibular') which are connected to a number of sites in the central nervous system, which together comprise the vestibular system. The vestibular system does not merely monitor equilibrium; it is closely keyed in with the control of the eye-muscles (oculovestibular system) and also with the reflex control of the muscles of the head, neck and upper body, and the control of posture. It is possible that the vestibular system may have a more general role which has to do with what is called 'input/output modulation' i.e. integrating the activity of the input (sensory) parts of the brain with the activity of the brain as an output (effector) organ, initiating bodily actions. Very schematically, this might be depicted as in figure 6.

intentions (output) intentions

SUBJECT WORLD experiences (input) experiences

VESTIBULAR SYSTEM

FIGURE 6.

ALFRED GELL 243

The function of input/output modulation is to ensure a proper balance or adjustment between these two complementary aspects of the over-all functioning of the central nervous system; when there is a burst of output from the brain (effector activity) the vestibular system metaphorically 'reduces the volume' of the input channels into the brain, and conversely, when the brain is processing an intense stream of input from the senses, the vestibular system dampens output from the effector systems. This adjustment is what is meant by 'modulation'. It is suggested, therefore, that the vestibular system is involved in the monitoring of bodily movements and eye movements, and in the integration of perceptual and motor activity. Teuber (I966, cited in Ornitz I97I) proposes that a vestibular mechanism'. . . shunts, directly and centrally, the motor pathways of the forebrain in order to reset and prepare ... the sensory system for those changes that result from normal execution of intended movement'. Such a mechanism not only enables'... the capacity to maintain perceptual constancies of size and direction during self-induced changes of posture ...' but also provides for the comparison of'... the outcome of impending actions against the "intent"'. Any alteration effected to input- output modulation is simultaneously an alteration of the normal sense of 'self' in that it is through input-output modulation that differentiation is possible between externally generated stimuli and those generated endogenously by the subject-for instance differentiation between changes in the retinal image due to eye movements versus those resulting from external causes.

We are now in a position to grasp the broad outline of Ornitz's theory concerning vestibular malfunction in autistic children, which he has proposed as an explanation of patterns of stereotyped movements which characterise the severely autistic child. Ornitz argues that these symptoms are a consequence of a deepseated maturational defect in the ability to coordinate sensory input and motor output such that severe confusions arise in the realms of language, object, and personal relations. Some of the evidence for central vestibular deficit in autistic children comes from studies which have shown up abnormalities in the eye-movements of autistic children who have been rapidly rotated in a special chair. In normal subjects this produces an onset of a side-to- side flicking of the eyeballs (nystagmus), a vestibular response par excellence, but this effect is reduced in the case of autistic children. Furthermore, sleep studies have shown that while autistic children do not differ from normal controls in the overall amount of rapid-eye-movement (REM) sleep, the rapid eye movement component of their REM sleep is less differentiated, less distinct from the normal sleep pattern, than in age matched controls. A less differentiated excitatory pattern in REM sleep in the autistic child (fewer eye movements) appears to be accompanied by a less differentiated inhibitory pattern as well, in that while normally the auditory evoked response (the measured strength of the signal passing from the ear to the brain, evoked by a stimulus-a click-of constant loudness) is markedly decreased in REM sleep, this effect is less pronounced in the autistic child. It will be seen that both of these abnormalities have to do with the modulation of motor output and sensory input, and that the autistic child may be developmentally delayed in these respects. There is reason to think that these are both vestibular effects;

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Ornitz quotes the experimental findings of Pompeiano and his colleagues, who have shown that:

... in the experimental animal ... all of the phasic excitatory and inhibitory events involving motility and perception during the ocular activity of REM sleep are mediated by and depend on the integrity of central vestibular mechanisms (Ornitz I97I :62. Pompeiano reviews this work in Pompeiano I974).

These findings, and others, lead Ornitz to postulate that autistic children suffer from a deep-seated 'failure of the normal homeostatic regulation' of sensory input and motor output (Ornitz I97I). But why, in this case do they produce the behaviour they do? It is possible to interpret a great deal of their behaviour, particularly the stereotyped rockings, hand-flappings, etc., as the only means they have of providing themselves with intelligible proprioceptive feedback. Or-and here I am departing from what Ornitz says or would no doubt wish to say-this is their way of bridging the 'gap' between themselves as the locus of efferent intentions and afferent experiences. This is the very 'gap' I spoke of earlier in connexion with the trance state. The autistic child has to bridge this 'gap' by means of feedback provided by stereotyped behaviour because automatic sensori-motor integration is in his case lacking or deficient. Making use of the same diagrammatic conventions as before, one might depict the situation of the autistic child as follows (figure 7, versus the normal situation shown in figure 6).

stereotyped > movements -

SUBJECT j I WORLD

... proprioceptive .

feedback

FIGURE 7.

The nub of my argument, therefore, is that there is an underlying similarity between the postulated 'constructed' feedback replacing automatic vestibular modulation of input/output relations in Ornitz's model of the autistic child's predicament, and the voluntary disembedding of motor and perceptual functions, and bypassing of automatic regulation, in trance induction, often by means of stereotyped repetitive behaviours of a rather analogous kind. The corresponding schema for the Muria lesk might therefore be as in figure 8 (cf. figure 5).

trance induction -* stereotyped >

movements SUBJECT WORLD

deautomatised feedback

FIGURE 8.

ALFRED GELL 245

That is to say, there are two ways of achieving input-output modulation; either automatically, via a short cycle of feedback loops internal to the functioning of the CNS and possibly localised in the vestibular system, or secondly, in situations in which this short cycle of feedback is either not efficient or has somehow been put under suspension, by means of long cycles of feedback passing through the subject and the environment (including the body and its supports) and back again, laboriously constructed via repetitive behaviours, auto-stimulation and, incidentally, at the verbal level by echolalia, which is very marked among autistic children. A curious inverted symmetry exists between these postulated long and short cycles of feedback such that the very kinds of behaviour which are used to establish the long cycle of 'deautornatised' feedback are those which tend to throw the short cycle out of kilter. Take whirling around on the spot, for instance. The autistic child must be attempting by this means to establish some category relationship between his intense physical exertion and a whirling, whizzing world-and can presumably keep it up for longer in that the oculovestibular responses which produce vertigo in normal persons are somewhat lacking in his case. The normal child on the other hand-the Muria child playing the drunkenness game-will employ this behaviour in order to knock out normal vestibular regulation of input-output relations, in order to discover a new kind of self- hood-the deautomatised, drunken or even ecstatic self. We also see instances of the autistic child using self-induced oscillations of parts of the body, particularly the forearms and hands, in exact parallel to similar movement on the part of mediums, to establish long cycles of feedback via proprioceptions of these quasi-independent 'hunting' oscillations. The medium, I argued earlier, constructs a new, ecstatic self by attuning himself to rhythmicities which seem to originate in something other than an act of will on his part; the hunting oscillation of his limbs at first contradicts the normal integration of intention and experience, input and output, but following this rupture in motor- perceptual integration, reintegration is effected at a new level. It is at this similarly 'deautomatised' level, I would argue, that the autistic child is attempting to construct an intelligible schema of motor-perceptual relation- ships, though in his case this is because ordinary automatic integration does not function properly.

In other words, the medium, starting from a secure base in reality as mediated by automatic input-output modulation in the CNS, voluntarily gets himself into a situation in which this integration is to some degree contradicted, and reintegrated at a higher level via long cycles of feedback from proprioception (thereby achieving a restructuring of self-world relationships which is invested with religious meaning). The autistic child, either permanently or at some crucial developmental stage, lacking this secure base in automatically mediated reality, produces a great deal of the same behaviour because this is his only way of 'making sense out of sensation' (Ornitz I970) and the only kind of integration he can achieve. In a sense, the contrast between the medium and the autistic child could not be more extreme despite the similarity in certain of their patterns of behaviour. The medium's objective is the attainment of some kind of secondary, deautomatised reality encapsulated

246 ALFRED GELL

within primordial reality, while the autistic child, deprived of this primordial reality, pursues the same course down a developmental blind alley from which he can only be rescued, sometimes, with much care and skill.

Here I rest the case for a 'vestibular' theory of trance. There are grave objections to it, to which I can find no easy answers. For instance, the autistic child's stereotypes, and indeed the medium's, are largely identical to those produced by normal babies and toddlers at moments of excitement, which would suggest a quite different interpretation of this behaviour. And there is the fundamental objection that I personally have no direct experience with autistic children, and cannot therefore assert with any degree of confidence that there are not profound and striking visible differences between their behaviour and that of the mediums I observed, which would rule my interpretation out of court.

Despite these difficulties, I may perhaps be permitted to conclude with a plea for greater consideration to be given to certain mental processes, particularly those involving the vestibular apparatus and the equilibrium sense, which may be crucially involved in the establishment of stable self-world relationships. While I would not minimise the significance of recent neuro-scientific findings with the obvious 'social' or 'cognitive' implications (e.g., relating to the limbic system and emotionality, or hemispherical lateralisation) there does seem to be a huge area which is at present mainly the concern of neuroanatomists and neurophysiologists, to do with interconnexions between sensory systems and motor systems in various parts of the brain, which potentially might be very significant in understanding human behaviour and thinking in its full cultural context. This is surely the direction in which Ornitz's work points, and I hope that I have been able to suggest that there might be pay-offs in anthropological terms in the form of a better understanding of those consciousness-altering techniques that involve special motor behaviour, posture control and so forth. Brain, mind and body are inseparable, and Mauss's great project for the global study of les techniques du corps will only really come to fruition when we know a great deal more about the brain.

In this developing understanding, I suspect that the vestibular apparatus may play a key role. I do not base this assertion on the known facts concerning input-output modulation but on more general intuitive grounds. We live, in some very basic way, through the equilibrium sense, which, though it lacks direct representation in consciousness on a par with the other senses, may perhaps be the hidden hand behind all of them. We are entirely accustomed to the idea that babies appreciate being rocked, that children adore swings and roundabouts and will use the most expensive beds and sofas as trampolines given a chance, that they progress to ponies and dirt-bikes and skateboards, and some even to free-fall parachuting, yet no body of theory corresponds to the actual prominence of equilibrium play, nor has any analysis been attempted of just what 'lonely impulse of delight' drove Yeats's airman to seek his fate among the clouds. I believe that the connexion between input-output modulation, the equilibrium sense, and the basic reality sense, will not turn out to be an illusory one.

ALFRED GELL 247

NOTES

I undertook fieldwork among the Muria from June I976 to May I977 assisted by the Australian National University (SGS) both financially and by a grant of research leave. I was accompanied in the field by Simeran Gell, who has been able to correct, as the result of subsequent and more detailed research, many errors contained in an earlier draft of this essay. I also gratefully acknowledge the essential contributions made to the germination of this essay by Peter Reynolds and Richard Barz. I am, of course, wholly responsible for remaining errors and confusions.

1 Elsewhere in Asia an association between swinging and trance states, spirit possession etc., is also apparent. Cf. e.g. Schebesta I928:25I and plate facing p. 26I.

2 It needs to be said here that by 'vertigo' I do not mean only the unpleasant sensations of dizziness and disorientation, but also to a variety of pleasurable or thrilling states as well. Giddy pursuits like mountaineering and hang-gliding etc., are not monopolised by maniacs but are also followed by quite reasonable people on pleasure bent. Vertiginous sports correspond, in Caillois's scheme of categories of play, to the category ilynx, as opposed to agon (contests) and alea (games of hazard). (Cf. Callois I 96 I, chapter i.)

3 Simeran Gell reports (pers. comm.) that the two poles on either side of the anga are opposed as dadabhai (lineal kin) to saga (allies/affines). The word anga we may reasonably surmise is identical to the form anna found in related Dravidian languages with the meaning 'elder brother'. In present-day Muria Gondi we find the Indo-European dada replacing anna (anga) for elder brother, while the feminine ange is retained for elder brother's wife (Burrows & Emeneau 196I; Tyler I969:487 sqq.).

4 Neher I962; Sturtevant I968. 'Dissociation' is to be understood here as a modification of mood, or an increased suggestibility, rather than as a grossly apparent physiological change. For criticism of the Neher theory see Jackson I968 and Rouget in Blacking I977.

5 The Muria, when speaking of the arrival of the pen refer to his/her 'riding' into the village kodate reina. The medium's position when possessed, e.g. when dancing or answering questions in the persona of the divinity, does indeed resemble that of a child riding an imaginary hobby- horse, the arms held up before the chest as if grasping the reins, and the whole body bobbing up and down in a rider-like way.

6 It is significant that the ritual use of swings and the employment of temple images of swinging Gods or Gods mounted on royal elephants is exclusively confined to the cult of Yayalmutte, the 'state' Bastar Goddess, and her refractions, as opposed to the use of the anga images exclusively for local clan divinities. The structural polarity between the swing and the anga corresponds to the basic sociological opposition in Muria life between the state (hierarchy) and the village (equality).

7 The word deautomatisation will perhaps offend some ears. But there is no word in the language of earlier or more elegant coinage which means the same thing. Deikman's paper is a recognised landmark in the history of the study of altered states of consciousness, and his word for 'the undoing of automatic psychic processes' will presumably remain current as long as these matters continue to be under investigation.

8 Some Muria villages have a festival which is devoted to dancing on stilts in honour of the village Goddess (Elwin I 947 :65 I sqq.). Here again we find the assault on the equilibrium sense being invested with religious meaning, as well as the idea of'sacralisation by elevation'.

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