Zoroastrian Orality: An Addendum
Expanding on the previous post, I share what I learned about adding new material to oral texts so that novel hearers can follow, remember, and learn it.
Dr. Kerman Daruwalla expanded on his oral transmission lecture from earlier this week. I know very little about oral traditions, being steeped in Western written literature and history. Although I know some of what is written now was transmitted orally centuries or millennia ago, I know little about composing and learning new oral works.
I wrote about fixed versus fluid texts last time. Today, I add to my previous post on Zoroastrian Orality and write about how new text is introduced into oral traditions.
The Gathas
Tradition holds that Zarathushtra composed the Gathas, the revealed words of Ahura Mazda. Last time, I wrote about fixed texts having a set number of syllables and stanza structures. Today, Dr. Kerman gave specific examples, which helped me (and I’m sure the others who attended the Friday tutorial) understand what he’d meant by fixed metrical structures.
Each Gathas follows a set structure: each stanza has a defined number of lines, and each line is broken into two half lines. So, for example, the first Gatha’s stanzas contain 3 lines; the second Gatha 5 lines; and the third 4 lines.
Each half line of a stanza contains a set number of syllables. So, for example, the first Gatha’s lines are divided into 7 syllables for the first half line and 9 syllables for the second half line.
Although the second and third Gathas contain a different number of lines per stanza, the half lines contain the same number of syllables: 4 syllables for the first half line, and 7 for the second half line.
This structure is inviolate. If you’re familiar with poetry, you know how it has a beat when you read it out loud. If you misread a word or a line, it throws off the beat, and you know you went astray. The same for the Gathas.
That’s how the Gathas remained unchanged for 2,000 years before being written down and it’s why they continue to be transmitted as they were first heard 4,000 years ago.
The Yasna and Yasht
These two were fluid texts, although where portions of the Gathas were inserted, those were fixed from the start.
Some elements of the Yasht were composed before the Gathas. Composition ended in about 500 BCE just before the Achaemenid Empire, the first Zoroastrian Empire. So for about 1,500 years, various people composed new elements that they inserted into familiar texts.
I hadn’t thought much before about how people learned new stanzas in an oral tradition. Dr. Kerman explained how the structure of fluid text enables the creator to have space to compose and for the hearer to absorb, process, and learn new material.
When a creator composes new verses and they’re heard for the first time, it’s extremely difficult to remember the new material. But when you bracket new material with known or you make the core of new material familiar texts, then the hearers latch onto the familiar and use it to understand the new material. The Yasna and Yasht use different structures to assist learning new material in this way.
To compose requires the creator to understand the meaning behind vocabulary and grammar.
The Yasna
The Yasna is a “long liturgy.” It’s the only long liturgy with elements written in Old Avestan. Thus, it’s completely an oral composition, and it’s meant to be recited and repeated to new audiences.
The Yasna is structured with Young Avestan padding either side of the core of Old Avestan. The first 27 chapters are in Young Avestan; chapters 28 to 51 are in Old Avestan, that is, the Gathas; and chapters 55 to 72 are again in Young Avestan. This structure enables hearing, absorbing, processing, and learning new material by latching onto the familiar core.
Only text composed in Young Avestan was fluid text. For 1,500 years, people created new elements in Young Avestan. But by 500 BCE, people didn’t know Avestan anymore, having moved linguistically into Old Persian, and couldn’t compose in it. And so from that date on, the entire Yasna, Old and Young Avestan, became fixed text. It’s interesting to think about how you can recite texts in a language you don’t know, how you can be familiar with its sounds and can pronounce it properly, yet be unable to compose in it because you have no idea about the meaning behind its vocabulary and grammar.
The Yasht
This text comprises 21 chapters and is more flexible than the Yasna. Each chapter comprises Kardes. Karde means section. Composers structured kardes in such a way as to enable hearers to remember and learn new elements.
Each karde begins and ends with the exact same beginnings and endings. New elements comprise the core in between the repeated beginnings and endings. Every karde has different beginnings and endings, but the repetition of this structure across and within kardes creates familiarity for the hearers and space for the creator to gather their thoughts.
Composers limited the core so as not to overwhelm the hearers when trying to listen to, absorb, process, remember, and learn the new material. The Yasht was also crystallized — became fixed text — in about 500 BCE.
Hearing the Rhythm
In a previous post, I wrote about the multimedia interactive website on the Yasna. In the Multimedia Yasna Project, two priests recite the entire Yasna. Fast. Unless you’re very familiar with Avesta, you can’t hear the metrical quality of their recitation. But if you slow it down to half speed, the syllables and stanza structures become audible. This site gives an English translation below the written Avesta, so you can understand what they’re chanting.
The Avestan Digital Archive allows you to see the original manuscripts and their typed transcriptions (although, remember, the oldest is dated back only to 1278).
Why Compose Texts Beyond the Gathas?
Why did priests (and others?) compose the Yasna and Yasht, as well as all the other texts, when the Gathas are the revealed word of God to Zarathushtra? Isn’t the revealed word sufficient?
The Gathas are philosophical and cosmological in nature, but don’t provide guidance for daily living or for human activities and life events like funerals. In addition, just like Jesus sometimes explained his parables, and pastors today give sermons on various parts of the Bible, so, too, did peoples from ancient times try to convey the meaning of the Gathas and give guidance on purity and how to live in practical terms.
However, centuries ago, Middle Persian translators were sometimes off in their translations, which would’ve affected their interpretations. Even now, debates rage. For example, Avesta scholars assert Gaush means cow — literally, cow. While Indian (priests?) suggest Gaush is a metaphor for Mother Earth or that which gives birth. The scholars counter that Avesta has terms for Mother Earth. In other words, just as with ancient books in the Bible, where people continue to debate and argue over meanings, so, too, with the Gathas and other texts.
To me, this kind of debate keeps texts alive and allows us to derive layers of meaning as well as stimulate deeper thinking instead of assuming in a first reading we totally understand what a writer or oral transmitter living in a completely different culture with a completely different way of thinking and talking in a completely different language meant.