Wole Soyinka
author’s three works of autobiographical memoirs,
Ak´e
,
The Man Died
,
and
Ibadan
.
On the surface of things, it seems highly improbable that such textual
inscriptions which emphasize singularity and radical individual auton-
omy could also be integrated with a “representative” self, a self which
aspires to speak and act in defense of a whole culture or tradition. This is
the central conundrum of Soyinka’s project of self-invention, and this is
where his appropriation of the brooding, paradoxical myths and legends
of the deity, Ogun, constitutes a brilliant strategic move in this project.
For in the myths, narratives and ritual dramas associated with this deity,
what we encounter, compositely, is the paradox of the rebel as quintessen-
tial culture hero, the radical iconoclast as heroic protagonist of supreme
ethical, self-transcending communal values. For this intricate significa-
tion, Soyinka has had to go back to what might very well be the “ur-text”
of Yoruba mythology and cosmology: the myth of the dismemberment
of Orisanla. The
locus classicus
of the myth in Soyinka’s writings is prob-
ably the following poetic description by the narrator in his first novel,
The Interpreters
, of the “canonical” narratives and legends of the gods and
demiurges of the Yoruba pantheon, as captured in the ambitious canvas
of the painter, Kola, one of the protagonists of the novel, just before the
work is opened for exhibition:
And these floods in the beginning, of the fevered fogs of the beginning, of the first
messenger, the thimble of earth, a fowl and ear of corn, seeking the spot where a
scratch would become a peopled island;
of the first apostate rolling the boulder down the
back of the unsuspecting deity . . . and shattering him into fragments which were picked up and
pieced together with devotion . . .
of the lover of purity, the unblemished one whose
large compassion embraced the cripples and the dumb, the dwarf, the epileptic –
and why not, indeed, for they were creations of his drunken hand and what
does it avail, the eternal penance of favoritism and abstinence?
Of the lover of gore,
invincible in battle, insatiable in love and carnage, the explorer, path-finder, protector of the
forge and the creative hands, companion of the gourd whose crimson-misted sight of debauchery
set him upon his own and he butchered them until the bitter cry pierced his fog of wine, stayed
his hand and hung the sword, foolish like his dropped jaw
. . . of the parting of the fog
and the retreat of the beginning, and the eternal war of the first procedure with
the long sickle head of chance, eternally mocking the pretensions of the bowl of
plan, mocking lines of order in the ring of chaos . . . (
TI
,
–
) (My emphasis)
This densely cryptic transcription of oral narrative fragments attempts
nothing short of a totalized encapsulation of the creation myths, together
with the central myths of the principal
orisa
or deities of the Yoruba reli-
gious pantheon. The passage thus symbolically amplifies the “character”
The gnostic, worldly and radical humanism of Wole Soyinka
of the “interpreters,” the eponymous protagonists of the novel; each of
them has posed for Kola in his execution of the painting, Kola having
in the process assimilated the “essential” traits of each of these diverse
orisa
to each of his friends. The first highlighted section of the passage
recodes the dismemberment of the supreme deity, Orisanla, by his slave,
Atunda, while the second highlighted passage inscribes the bloody myths
of Ogun, god of war and creativity, with his complex and contradictory
traits: “insatiable in love and carnage, explorer, pathfinder, protector of
the forge and the creative hands, companion of the gourd” (of palm wine).
Kola’s painting assimilates this deity to Egbo, and we have seen earlier
that Egbo’s childhood rejection of the “prostration obeisance” resonates
with the young Soyinka’s enactment of the same emblematic refusal
as narrated in
Ak´e
. Thus, apart from
The Interpreters
, other fictional and
nonfictional works, as well as theoretical essays of Soyinka, have appro-
priated aspects of these Ogun motifs for ideal, symbolic constructions of
an artistic identity and authority that is fundamentally humanistic but is
riven by great contradictions. Of the essays of Soyinka which participate
in this vast machinery of self-fashioning, “The Fourth Stage,” “Morality
and Aesthetics in the Ritual Archetype” and “The Credo of Being and
Nothingness” are particularly noteworthy. And imaginative works such
as the long narrative poem “Idanre” in the collection
Idanre and Other
Poems
, the dramatic mythopoem,
Ogun Abibiman
, and the plays
A Dance of
the Forests
,
The Road
, and
The Bacchae of Euripides
, all entail strong thematic
and emblematic foregrounding of this structure of self-invention through
the Ogun motifs. That these are all part of a vast, complex and dialog-
ical fashioning of a “self” derived from, but paradoxically set against
the grain of tradition is clearly indicated in the following conversation
between Soyinka and Ulli Beier:
: Now let us talk about the way in which some of these traditional Yoruba
concepts have been used in your plays. If I am not mistaken, it was in
A Dance of the Forests
that you first used some kind of Yoruba symbolism in
a play.
: Yes, of course by that time I had written a draft of
The Lion and the
Jewel
, but that was a very different thing. It was on a different level . . .
: The striking thing about
A Dance of the Forests
is the character of Ogun.
This image of Ogun has accompanied you through your later writing; but it
has been said that the Ogun of your play is a rather personal, “unorthodox”
orisa – that in fact, you created a new kind of Ogun.
: Hmmm . . . that is true.
: But of course, even in purely traditional Yoruba terms, it is quite a
legitimate thing to do. Ogun has never been a rigidly defined being; the
Wole Soyinka
orisa can only live through people – by mounting somebody’s head – you
could go so far as to say that when the orisa fails to manifest himself in
this way through his priests and worshipers, he ceases to exist. If the priest
who personifies Ogun is an unusually powerful “Olorisa’, he can modify
the image of Ogun. So that even in Yoruba tradition Ogun consists of a
number of interrelated personalities.
Any traditional priest would accord you the
right to live Ogun your own way, in fact, they would think it the normal thing to do
. You
create Ogun – or perhaps, you are sensitive to other aspects of his being.
Because Ogun is a very complex being.
: Yes, indeed . . .
(My emphasis)
Given the pervasiveness of the binary cultural stereotype of what many
commentators have called the encounter of a “communalistic” Africa
with the “individualistic” West, the powerful cultural sanction that
Yoruba culture gives to individuality – as indicated in the highlighted
remarks of Beier in this exchange with Soyinka – will come as a surprise
to many students of the Nigerian author’s writings who have one-sidedly
ascribed Soyinka’s assertiveness on the individual autonomy of the artist
to the influence of Western individualism. What is involved here, I would
argue, is the conflation of the distinct processes and coordinates of
individ-
uation
,
individuality
and
individualism
. To the remarks of Beier in the quote
above we should take note of the ringing celebration of
individuality
in the
third epigraph to this chapter, the gnostic aphorism from Ifa divinatory
lore:
Ori kan nuun ni; iyato kan nuun ni
. (That is one soul/person; that is one
difference).
As stated earlier in this discussion, the diverse textual appropriations
of aspects of the Ogun myths in Soyinka’s works could be said to cohere
around what is perhaps the “ur-text” of mythic lore in Yoruba cosmol-
ogy, that of the Orisanla-Atunda primal confrontation. Let us recall its
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