
This is part of a series of posts representing ideas from the book, Ishmael, by Daniel Quinn. I view the ideas explored in Ishmael to be so important to the world that it seems everyone should have a chance to be exposed. I hope this treatment inspires you to read the original.
In Chapter TEN, events in Alan’s life disrupt the lessons, and the book takes on the familiar feel of a novel for a bit. I won’t spend much time on the storyline, since that’s not why I’m making this effort. The chapter is presented in 9 numbered subsections, beginning on page 185 of the original printing and page 199 of the 25th anniversary printing. The sections below mirror this arrangement in the book. See the launch post for notes on conventions I have adopted for this series.
1. Curveballs
An unannounced visit from a demanding uncle, a final warning about an overdue assignment from a client, and an emergency root canal waylay Alan for days upon days, so that he is unable to go downtown to visit Ishmael—even to give an update about his circumstances [life before texting!].
When he finally manages to break free and make it downtown, his worst fears are realized: Ishmael’s room has been vacated. The janitor in the hallway says the previous tenant was evicted for failing to pay her rent (remember Rachel Sokolow, his “protector?”). He is entirely unwilling to let Alan have a look in the room for any clues.
2. No Help Here
The receptionist for the building management is an accomplished stonewaller, and masterfully fails to help Alan track down the former tenant. She is indignant at the absurd suggestion that a gorilla occupied the room: not in this fine establishment!
She would not even confirm if the tenant was Rachel Sokolow. Quinn (via Alan) then throws in a good line that if he ever needs a receptionist, he would want one of this caliber!
3. A Snooty Rebuff
Alan tracks down the Sokolow home to learn more about Ishmael’s disappearance—his immediate goal being to find Rachel. The butler, Partridge is top-shelf cagey, but does reveal that Rachel—Ishmael’s protector—died a few months back.
Alan admits that it is actually Ishmael he seeks, hoping the butler has a fond connection and will be helpful when he finds out that Ishmael is missing. But Partridge is tight-lipped, speculating only that someone must have helped move him. Sensing the tenuous nature of Alan’s connection to the Sokolows, the butler leaves it at that—not even answering Alan’s question about how Rachel died [so young].
4. A Hairy Rebuff
Figuring that Ishmael used newspaper advertisements to attract his pupils, Alan reasoned that friends of Ishmael might keep an eye on such ads. So, he places an ad in the paper trying to flush out friends of Ishmael who might help. After a long period of no response, he gives up on this approach.
He finally tracks down a traveling carnival now a few towns to the north. Visiting the menagerie, he finds within one of its cages a very grumpy Ishmael, who completely ignores Alan—not even looking at him when addressed.
Alan immediately speaks, with a bit of a tone, of rescuing Ishmael and wonders why he hadn’t been alerted to this looming fate. Ishmael finally replies, gruffly. He is offended by Alan’s patronizing assumption that he would need help. When Alan provokes Ishmael as to whether he is content to have a fifth failed student, Ishmael suffers to Alan that they can continue as before. Alan is a bit miffed by this suggestion, as the setting—visitors traipsing through—is not conducive to lessons.
Alan resumes the press to get Ishmael out, suggesting he team up with those who helped him get this far. Ishmael shuts that right down. [In My Ishmael, we learn more about why, and all this makes a lot more sense.] An irritated Ishmael demands that Alan “go away and leave me alone.”
5. Insistence
Alan returns later that night after the crowds had cleared, bribing the attendant so that he could stay after closing. Ishmael resigns himself to continuing Alan’s lessons.
They had covered the Genesis interpretation prior to the interruption. When asked, Alan has no idea what might be next, other than a synthesis, perhaps.
6. What is Culture?
Ishmael asks Alan to define culture, working out in steps that culture is the accumulated knowledge that defines a people, passed down to—and refined/amended by—future generations. This transmission goes beyond mere information, encompassing “beliefs, assumptions, theories, customs, legends, songs, stories, dances, jokes, superstitions, prejudices, tastes, attitudes.”
Culture is not confined to humans. Animals pass along learned techniques to future generations. [I like the example that two genetically “identical” crows acculturated separately to Alaska and Arizona—then trading places without any social support in the new place—would likely perish, not knowing how to be a crow in that new place. That’s culture!]
When did humans begin accumulating knowledge about how to live as humans? From day one, of course. Human culture is millions of years old. Homo habilis passed down cultural knowledge, inherited by Homo erectus, and later by Homo sapiens. It gradually changed along the way, of course, in ebbs and flows as environmental conditions changed and humans migrated to new places. The line is unbroken all the way to modern-day Leavers. This helps explain the similarities among Leaver peoples around the world: apparently enacting a similar, old story (to be worked out by Alan in Chapter 12). Leavers tend to treasure their ancient cultural heritage, finding pride in its longevity. Old is good, and the older the better.
Takers, however, broke with these cultural traditions, shunning them as obsolete. “The past is dreck.” We flee the past, almost as if afraid of it.
Ishmael calls Takers “cultural amnesiacs,” meaning that for thousands of years Taker culture forgot that any other culture came before. The idea was that humans appeared on the planet in current form, as agriculturalists and builders of cities. In this view, “farming is as instinctive to man as honey production is to bees.” When Takers expanded and encountered Leaver cultures in the “new world,” it was assumed that these were “degenerated” humans who lost the original ways—rather than the exact reverse!
Ishmael offers a caveat that many Takers carry a fetish for old traditions—distorted and decontextualized—especially surrounding holidays. But no one shows any interest in actually living according to the old ways.
7. Things vs. People
It goes too far to say that Takers discard everything from the past. Of particular importance for preservation is process knowledge: how to make the things we do. Who cares if we toss out some old daily custom so long as we can still smelt copper!
This is not to say that Leavers shun preservation of techniques, but it’s a matter of emphasis. Leavers care most about preserving the ways of living that work well for their people, in their place. Being specific to their local ecology, their ways are not universal—even if they share a common overall approach. While Takers are teaching their children how to make things faster, better, and cheaper, Leavers teach children how to live in a way that works well for them. Taker emphasis is on what works well for things, rather than for people. Takers don’t really know what works well for people, changing course every generation.
8. Local Leaver Legacies
Leaver ways work well for their people because they have been tested and refined over deep time. Alan notes that Takers do not tend to be interested in various place-specific ways of living that work well for people there. The Holy Grail is the “one right way” to live, for everyone in all places. Since such knowledge is not deemed to be available “out there,” Takers rely on prophets (and laws) to illuminate the way.
This phenomenon relates to the “cultural amnesia” Ishmael brought up before, or The Great Forgetting, as Quinn puts it later in The Story of B. Breaking with the traditions of the past created a vacuum to be filled in by laws and prophetic teachings. Cue the squabbling!
The difference is that Leavers inherit wisdom that is older than memory and proven to work—earned the hard way by interaction with the external world. One might say that these ways are externally-inspired. Takers, on the other hand, tend to manufacture laws out of their heads (internally-inspired). Then some pretend they have found the one right way, while others disagree and propose their own version of the one right way. None of these internal fabrications are proven to have worked well for eons in an ecological context [and can’t be expected to, such are the limitations of meat-brains].
Ishmael reiterates that while Takers focus on things and Leavers focus on people, the Leavers do not strive for a one-size-fits-all set of guidelines. Leaver cultures were customized to work well for people in a particular climate, landscape, ecological community, and cosmology. We might call this: wisdom.
Tragically, “every time the Takers stamp out a Leaver culture,” they extinguish an ancient flame of immense value. They discard hard-earned wisdom that has stood the test of time. [Even the lost languages embody important worldviews.] The same is true for every species we drive to extinction: a form of proven wisdom is forever lost. “It is ugly.”
9. Begone!
At this point, Ishmael pronounced himself too tired and cold to go on, sending Alan away.
Next Time
In the next installment, we finally get the Leaver story’s premise in Chapter 11. The fourth section of the chapter is my favorite, which I look forward to sharing.
I thank Alex Leff for looking over a draft of this post and offering valuable comments and suggestions.
Views: 154
Many traits have been ascribed as 'that which distinguishes homo sapiens from all other species.' Culture, one such trait has been shown to exist in other species, though perhaps not to the extent to which it is exhibited in humans. Robert Sapolsky notes that humans have the largest frontal cortex.
Ernest Becker has, I believe, the strongest argument for a unique trait of humans: human individuals are the only creatures that are (unavoidably) aware that they will die.
To be a Taker means to do everything possible to avoid (deny) death (or, at least, go out in a 'blaze of glory'). I know of no research on the subject, but it seems to me that Leavers must experience a profound acceptance of death, their own and others, in order to 'leave themselves in the hands of the gods.'