The Spell of the Sensuous: Perception and Language in a More-Than-Human World

Abram explores the relationship between language and the natural world in oral cultures, highlighting the connection between human speech and the animate landscape. He emphasizes that in oral societies, language is not just a human construct but an exchange that encompasses the sounds, rhythms, and expressions of the natural environment. This participatory engagement with the world is evident in the way oral cultures attune their languages to the contours of the landscape and the calls of its inhabitants.

Abram presents examples from diverse cultures, such as the Amazonian rainforest inhabitants and the Koyukon people of Alaska, to illustrate how the immediately surrounding natural world influences the sounds and patterns of human speech. In these cultures, animals and the land are not silent backdrops but active participants in the linguistic realm: Their calls and cries are interwoven into the fabric of human language. The Koyukon people, for instance, perceive birds and other animals as possessing their own forms of language and interpret certain animal calls as meaningful phrases in the Koyukon language. These interpretations are often tied to ancient stories from the Distant Time, a mythic era when humans and nonhuman entities shared a common language and society. The text highlights how, in oral cultures, the boundary between human language and the expressive life of the landscape is porous, allowing for a synesthetic exchange that modern, literate cultures have largely lost. Abram argues that remnants of this deep linguistic and ecological interrelatedness persist at the fringes of the expanding global monoculture, offering a window into a more reciprocal and respectful mode of inhabiting the earth.

In addition, he delves into the significance of storytelling and place-names within Indigenous oral cultures, particularly focusing on how these elements intertwine with the natural landscape and seasons. He highlights that in North American native communities, sacred stories are traditionally told only at night during the winter months. This timing is not arbitrary; the stories themselves hold a magical power, believed to influence not only people but also the land itself, potentially hastening the arrival of spring. Winter, a time when many animals hibernate and the land rests, is deemed the safest period for recounting tales that directly reference the exploits and attributes of animals and other natural entities. Such stories, if told in the presence of the subjects during active seasons, could cause offense or upset. The Koyukon people, for example, use circumlocution to avoid directly naming certain animals, out of respect and to avoid drawing bad luck.

This respectful and mindful engagement with the natural world is also reflected in the Western Apache people’s use of place-names and the telling of agodzaahi tales, or stories that tie moral and ethical lessons to specific locations within the landscape. The people recount these tales to address and amend community misdeeds, directly impacting the individuals involved by reminding them of their connection and obligation to both the community and the land. The stories function as moral compasses, and the places named within them are constant, living reminders of lessons learned.

Abram explores how these practices underscore a relationship between language, land, and community ethics among Indigenous cultures. For these communities, storytelling is not merely a way to pass down knowledge and values but an active participation in the life of the land. The natural landscape is not a backdrop for human activities but a vital participant in the stories that define a community’s ethical and moral standards. Through storytelling, Indigenous cultures maintain connection to their environment, seeing themselves as characters within a larger story that the earth itself is telling.

Abram explores the Dreamtime beliefs of the Aboriginal peoples of Australia, emphasizing the connection between their oral traditions and the natural landscape. The Dreamtime, or Jukurrpa/Alcheringathat, represents a time beyond ordinary experience, in which ancestral beings shaped the world through their journeys, leaving behind a landscape rich in stories and spiritual significance. As these ancestral beings moved across the land, their actions and encounters with various elements and creatures created earth’s current physical and spiritual geography, including mountains, waterholes, and other natural features.

Aboriginal culture is rooted in the land, and each place holds stories that guide behavior, social customs, and the ethical relationships between people and the environment. These stories are passed down through generations as “songlines” or Dreaming tracks, which are both auditory and physical paths across the continent. These songlines are essential for navigation and survival, linking people to specific places that provide water, shelter, and food.

The act of singing or recounting these Dreaming stories is not merely a recollection of past events but a reenactment that keeps the landscape alive and maintains the connection between the present and the Dreamtime. Each Aboriginal person inherits a part of the songlines, tying their identity and responsibilities to the land and its other inhabitants, including plants and animals. This connection dictates their stewardship of the land, their dietary restrictions, and their social and spiritual obligations.

Abram highlights the reciprocal mnemonic relationship between the land and the Dreaming stories: The stories aid in navigating the land, while the features of the landscape trigger the memory of these stories. This interdependence underscores the inseparability of language and the environment in Aboriginal culture. The practice of writing down these oral traditions, however, risks detaching the stories from their rooted context in the natural world, potentially diminishing their power and significance. Displacing Indigenous people from their ancestral lands effectively strips them of their linguistic and cultural identity, leading to a loss of meaning and coherence in their speech. Such displacement, which often occurs as a result of political or economic “progress,” is a form of cultural genocide.

However, this trend increasingly encounters resistance within technologically advanced societies, fueled by a newfound appreciation for oral traditions and their connection to specific landscapes. Studies highlighting these connections are increasingly used in legal contexts to protect the rights and lands of Indigenous peoples. Examples include Keith Basso’s work with the Western Apache, which helped safeguard their land and water rights, and efforts to protect Aboriginal Dreaming tracks in Australia from development. For cultures like the Amahuaca, Koyukon, Western Apache, and Australian Aboriginals, language and ecological coherence are inseparable, emphasizing that human speech is part of a broader, earth-centered discourse.