The Singing of the New World: Indigenous Voice in the Era ofEuropean Contact (review)

Renae Watchman Dearhouse

The American Indian Quarterly, Volume 33, Number 3, Summer 2009,pp. 416-418 (Article)

Published by University of Nebraska PressDOI: 10.1353/aiq.0.0055

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416 american indian quarterly/summer 2009/vol. 33, no. 3

ther cyclic oppression and marginalization. She then exposes the cumulative

effects of ethnoviolence, which include internalized and interracial group vio-

lence. This is particularly useful for those working in the human service field in

Indian Country today in viewing interracial violence as an outgrowth of oppres-

sion and a systemic versus individual concern. Within the final chapter examples

of Native American individuals’ proactive reactions to hate crimes are discussed,

including utilizing positive coping strategies that can ultimately create sociopo-

litical change. As a reader I was left uplifted that individuals who experience hate

crimes can still find ways to combat oppression and feel empowered in doing

so, consequently instilling a sense of hope. Some practical actions are recom-

mended by Perry and the interviewees such as decolonizing public schools’ edu-

cational curriculum, speaking up when stereotypes are seen, and overall Native

nations taking action to reduce hate crimes.

Too often the societal context and voices of the individuals are not heard in

ethnoviolence. The focus becomes one of the communities and a clash between

cultures. Not only is Perry able to provide historical and contemporary context

succinctly, but her interviewees are able to provide empowering suggestions to

overcome this institutional pattern, thus providing a useful framework for edu-

cating non-Natives as well. Practitioners, educators, researchers, and lay people

alike could gain illumination into society’s perpetuation of hate crimes and so-

cial underpinnings of marginalized groups. Perry effectively narrates the com-

plexities of this historical and sociopolitical relationship throughout her writing.

Furthermore, the victims’ individual experiences can break past stereotypes and

make the reader aware of the impact of oppression on daily life. Native readers

may be armed with some clear strategies for change, while non-Native readers

could expand the book’s discussions, exploring opportunities to stop the cycle

of oppression. In sum, this book is an insightful, informative, and quick read for

anyone interested in violence and trauma in Native communities.

Gary Tomlinson. The Singing of the New World: Indigenous Voice in the

Era of European Contact. New York: Cambridge University Press, 2007.

230 pp. Cloth, $91.00.

Renae Watchman Dearhouse, University of Arizona

Part of a broad series called New Perspectives in Music History and Criticism,

Gary Tomlinson’s The Singing of the New World is a novel musicohistorical

study, not rooted in ethnography, despite the ever-present Indigenous subject.

He explores Indigenous singing and song—the voice—of the Mexica (Aztecs),

the Inca, and the Tupinamba, which remain muted or misunderstood, often

eclipsed by the singers themselves.

Book Reviews 417

Tomlinson begins with an historical introduction to Indigenous singing, or

what he calls Raised Voices. As a study of Indigenous voice in the era of European

contact, Tomlinson’s journey commences in 1505 in Bermuda, where the island

was void of people but abundant with voices. After the events of 1492 travel in-

creased, and Bermuda became a rest stop where travelers lightened their load;

pigs, for example, were abandoned and rapidly multiplied. Maritime explorers

mentioned, mapped, and stamped Bermuda but did not colonize the isle. Be-

cause of the ostensible voices and lack of human life, it became known as the

Isle of the Devils. Tomlinson reveals that the raised voices they heard were not

demons but were really birds and pigs, but the travelers’ fear of the unknown

fueled their imaginations.

Tomlinson wants to avoid imaginative interpretations of the Indigenous voice,

and he advocates the study of the primary sources, the songs. Tomlinson points

out, however, that despite the power of song, Aztec/Incan songs do not exist in

reconstituted form, and he refers to “the surviving traces of Aztec Song” (11),

which he reads through preserved codices, detailed pictographs, Indigenous al-

phabetized Nahuatl song, and finally, but with a critical eye, European sources.

Tomlinson begins chapter 1, “Unlearning the Aztec Cantares,” with the follow-

ing observation: “Scholars have moved far to restore the writing of pre-Colum-

bian America; not so its singing” (9). To unlearn the Aztec cantares, Tomlinson

rehashes current and former scholarly debates, engaging European philosophers

and outlining their ideologies. Through song, poetry, metaphor, and writing

(which includes pictography), Europeans defined (and continue to define) indi-

geneity. One example is the sixteenth-century cantares mexicanos, which are Na-

huatl songs that have been Europeanized by a Latin alphabet. As such, they have

been reinvented as literature and poetry and should be unlearned. Tomlinson

argues that the cantares mexicanos can best be understood through metonymy,

the topic of chapter 2.

In “Metonymy, Writing, and the Matter of Mexica Song” Tomlinson takes is-

sue with the fact that the cantares mexicanos, once sung and vocalized, are now

read as literature, which mutes them. Alongside ancient songs exist ancient texts

in the form of symbols inscribed onto pictographs and intricately carved instru-

ments. They depict a narrative through which surface interpretation is mean-

ingless, and Tomlinson argues that both song and text can be heard through

metonymy. In a subchapter titled “Music Writing” Tomlinson reverts his gaze

from Indigenous singers and commends the work of Jean de Léry (1536–1613),

who traveled to Brazil in 1556. His travelogue reflects the singing of the Tupi-

namba, and he is one of the few who attempted to hear the Indigenous voice by

ultimately putting Tupinamba song into readable music notation.

Tomlinson reiterates in chapter 3 that the cantares mexicanos are not to be read

but to be “sung, drummed, and danced” (50). Aware of his own deficiency of read-

418 american indian quarterly/summer 2009/vol. 33, no. 3

ing, translating, and writing out his argument, Tomlinson has no choice but to

offer written excerpts of the ninety-one cantares mexicanos in Nahuatl (which he

translates) and English. Tomlinson provides in-depth musicological analysis and

probes the meaning and usage of the language, the use of vocables, and the intent

of drumming. He cautiously scrutinizes their entertainment value by looking at

the public and private performances as they were documented. Tomlinson also

offers a convincing thematic justification of the songs through metonymy, and he

reverts to a seventeenth-century Nahuatl and Otomi linguist to clearly show how

Nahuatl was manipulated to give the songs meaning. To conclude this rich chap-

ter, Tomlinson notes that despite aggressive colonial activities songs have resisted

and exist beyond AD 1700, as evidenced by the Zapotec cantares, which prompts

the query whether more songbooks of varying linguistic regions of Indigenous

Mexico lie somewhere dormant, waiting to be “discovered.”

Chapter 4, “Musicoanthropophagy: The Songs of Cannibals,” begins with a

juxtaposition of the words “orality” and “oratory.” Both words evoke the human

mouth as the means to speaking, singing, and eating. Tomlinson depicts the Tu-

pinamba of Brazil and their well-documented cannibalism, or flesh exchange.

He illuminates their long but misunderstood oratory that preceded the anthro-

pophagic act. In one of the most enlightening moments of this book Tomlinson

discusses the role of the gourd as instrument, as body, as spirit, and as voice. The

maraca had a manifold purpose to cannibal cultures, and Tomlinson highlights

the maraca as voice, which is reminiscent of how some Native societies today

regard the drum as the heartbeat. The chapter ends with an analysis of the inter-

connectedness of Tupinamba song and cannibalism and is followed by a chapter

about the powerful and complex Indigenous political and religious song entitled

“Inca Singing at Cuzco.”

The final chapter, “Fear of Singing,” provides many examples of the recipro-

cal fear of the Other through song. Bringing us full circle, Tomlinson re-creates

initial moments of contact between Indigenous Americans and Europeans and

their reaction to “raised voices.” As voices raised, so did fear, which prompted

defense tactics, and in some cases war ensued. In this chapter Tomlinson crosses

borders and centuries and compares the sixteenth-century taki-onqoy (Quechua

for “song-dance sickness”) to the nineteenth-century Ghost Dance and their

similar consequences. In both instances the Indigenous voice through song was

misunderstood and thus feared, and both led to the massacre of innocent Indig-

enous inhabitants.

Gary Tomlinson makes the visual traces of Indigenous song audible. The

study would benefit more if the role of female singers was covered more in-

depth, as the bulk of his work concerns male singers and drummers. It is a fresh

look at the silenced Indigenous and their overlooked musical history, and it

should be on Indigenous scholars’ shelves.