In all such cases the rite lacks all independent significance, all autonomous function. In some cases, the rite introduces a substance which is used for magical purposes only. As a rule, the substance then intensifies, through a parallel action, the meaning of the spell. On the whole, it may be said that the main creative power of magic resides in the formula; that the rite serves to convey, or transfer it to the object, in certain cases emphasising the meaning of the spell through the nature of the transferring medium, as well as through the manner in which it is finally applied. It is hardly necessary to state that in the Trobriand magic, there are no rites performed without the spell.
V
It is also evident in studying the manner in which the force of the spell is conveyed to the object, that the voice of the reciter transfers the virtue. Indeed, as has been repeatedly pointed out, in quoting the formulæ, and as we shall have to discuss later still, the magical words are, so to speak, rubbed in by constant repetition to the substance.
To understand this better we must inquire into the natives’ conceptions of psycho-physiology. The mind, nanola, by which term intelligence, power of discrimination, capacity for learning magical formulæ, and all forms of non-manual skill are described, as well as moral qualities, resides somewhere in the larynx.
The natives will always point to the organs of speech, where the nanola resides. The man who cannot speak through any defect of his organs, is identified in name (tonagowa) and in treatment with all those mentally deficient.
The memory, however, the store of formulæ and traditions learned by heart, resides deeper, in the belly. A man will be said to have a good nanola, when he can acquire many formulæ, but though they enter through the larynx, naturally, as he learns them, repeating word for word, he has to stow them away in a bigger and more commodious receptacle; they sink down right to the bottom of his abdomen.
I made the discovery of this anatomical truth, while collecting war magic, from Kanukubusi, the last office holder of the long succession of war magicians to the chiefs of Omarakana. Kanukubusi is an old man, with a big head, a broad, high forehead, a stumpy nose, and no chin, the meekest and most docile of my informants, with a permanently puzzled and frightened expression on his honest countenance (see Plate LVIII).
I found this mild old man very trustworthy and accurate, an excellent informant indeed, within the narrow sphere of his speciality, which he and his predecessors had used to make ‘anger flare up in the nanola’ of Omarakana men, to make the enemy fly in terror, pursued and slaughtered by the victorious warriors.
I paid him well for the few formulæ he gave me, and inquired at the end of our first session, whether he had any more magic to produce. With pride, he struck his belly several times, and answered:
“Plenty more lies there!”
I at once checked his statement by an independent informant, and learned that everybody carries his magic in his abdomen.