Monthly Archives: April 2019

Chinigchinich; or, The Curious Franciscan

THE THEATRE OF CONVERSION, PART 3

In the years of Spanish dominion over Alta California, 125 Franciscans served in the Missions. Though most missionaries learned at least the rudiments of the native languages, and some became fluent in several at once, only one missionary became really curious about the Indians’ religious beliefs; in other words, he wondered what the Indians were being converted from.

His name was Fr. Geronimo Boscano; his book was “Chinigchinich.”

Boscano wrote in about 1820, describing what he had heard from the Indians themselves, with frequent eruptions of horror and constant denunciations of their beliefs. We can get at least a glimpse of the amazing revivalist cult that was sweeping over Southern California in the late 18th and early 19th centuries, just as the Spanish arrived. But we also get real first-hand insight into the mind of the Franciscan Mission in Alta California.

The Chinigchinich cult almost certainly began among the Tongva; much of the myth cycle is set in the rancheria of Pu’uvungna, which was a real Tongva village, located somewhere on the grounds of Cal State Long Beach. Here is Chinigchinich appearing to the people of Pu’uvungna, during the chaos after the death of the old tyrant, Ouiot:

“After the death of Ouiot, they remained, for some time, undecided, whether to inter his remains, or to burn them; however, it was determined by the elders, that they should do the latter. The fire was prepared, the body placed upon a pile erected for the occasion, and fearing that the “Coyote” would come, and eat him, they sent out and burnt his retreat; but he had made his escape, and soon presented himself at the place of sacrifice, declaring he would be burnt with his captain; and, suddenly leaping upon the pile, he tore off from his stomach a large piece of flesh, and ate it. The remainder of the body was afterwards consumed by the flames.

The name of the Coyote was Eyacque, which implies second captain; and from this time they changed his name to that of Eno; signifying a thief and cannibal, and thieves were generally termed Eyoton, derived from Eno and Ouiot…

After burning [Ouiot’s] body, a general council was called, to make provision for the collecting of grain and seeds; the acorns, &c., &c., and the flesh of animals; such as deer, rabbits, hares, squirrels, rats, and all kinds which they fed upon. While consulting together, they beheld for several days, and at distinct times, a spectre, unlike themselves, who appeared and disappeared; sometimes in one direction and sometimes in another. Alarmed at its appearance, they determined to speak to it. Having summoned it to their presence, inquiries were made if he were their Captain Ouiot. “I am not Ouiot,” said he, “but a captain of greater power; and my name is Chinigchinich. My habitation is above. On what matters are you debating, and why are you thus congregated?” he inquired. “Our captain is dead,” said they “we have come to his interment, and were discussing in what manner to maintain ourselves upon the seeds of the fields, and the flesh of animals without being obliged to live upon the clay, or earth, as we have done.” Having listened to their answer, he spake unto them, and said, I create all things; I will make you another people, and from this time, one of you shall be endowed with the power to cause it to rain, another to influence the dews, another to produce the acorn, another to create rabbits, another ducks, another geese, another deer.”

— Fr. Geronimo Boscana

The worship of the great God Chinigchinich was associated with, and derived from, the earlier ?antap , or toloache, cults. (Which themselves grew out of, and were associated with, or re-organizations of, the ancient tribal myths, dances, and initiation rituals.)
A righteous star-captain, or sky chief, Chinigchinich was a supernatural force, who came into our realm to order the world. Thus anyone who followed his precepts not only found right living as an Indian, but also could claim part of Chinigchinich’s great power, the power of nature and animal spirits, and the power of the ancestors and heroes.

Chinigchinich worship began among the Tongva, with much Chumash influence. But the cult spread with the toloache doctors, and through mass ceremonies at multi-lingual villages like Achoicomenga. It spread even through the use of Spanish as a lingua-franca after the tribes were reduced to the missions. Thus the Tongva and Chumash northern neighbors the Tataviam; and their neighbors to the south, the Payomkowitchum and Kumeyaay, became active in the cult. It was while serving at Mission San Luis Rey de Francia that Fr. Boscana investigated the religion of the”Luisenos” and their neighbors the “Juanenos” of Capistrano, the “Gabrielinos” of LA, and the “Fernandenos” of the Valley. it seems clear that one of the strengths of the religion was that it helped both individuals and social groups find centers for Indian identity, when their ancestral identities were being challenged and obliterated by Spanish contact.

Though (or because) Boscana framed Chinigchinich with European bigotry, and though (or because) it sizzles with the over-developed body-shame of a 19th-century Franciscan, and though (or because) it infuriates a modern reader with its casuistry, hypocritical circular logic, and constant Satan-baiting, it is a kind of masterpiece. Boscana was obviously a meticulous reporter. And he seems earnestly to wish to understand the myths — though he constantly fails, because he obviously represses and resists or mis-directs any personal insight into the disturbing similarities between the Tongva mythos and the Christian mythos.

“In fine, each one received his particular occupation, and power to create such food as they now eat. Even now, such as claim to be descendants of this people, pretend to be endowed with the same powers, and are frequently consulted as to their harvests, and receive in return for their advice, a gift of some kind, either in money or clothing, and, in fact, the result of their harvest depends entirely upon the maintenance given to these sorcerers, and the supplying all their necessities. To offend them, would be to destroy all their productions of flesh and grain.
Chinigchinich, after having conferred the power, as we have said, upon the descendants of Ouiot, about the time of “dixet et factum est,” created man, forming him of clay found upon the borders of a lake. Both male and female he created, and the Indians of the present day are descendants of these. He then said unto them these words–“Him who obeyeth me not, or believeth not in my teachings, I will chastise–to him I will send bears to bite, serpents to sting, misfortunes, infirmities, and death.” He taught them the laws they were to observe for the future, as well as their rites and ceremonies. HIs first commandment was to build a temple where they might pay to him adoration, offer up sacrifices, and have religious worship. The plan of this building [i.e., the wamkech]was regulated by himself. From this time they looked upon Chinigchinich as God. The Indians say, he had neither father nor mother, and they are entirely ignorant of his origin. The name Chinigchinich signifies “all-powerful” or “almighty,” and it is believed by the Indians, that he was ever present, and in all places: he saw every thing, although it might be in the darkest night, but no one could see him. He was a friend to the good, but the wicked he chastised.””

— Fr. Geronimo Boscana

Click the link below for the full text of Boscana’s “Chinigchinich, A Historical Account of the Origins, Customs, and Traditions of the Indians at the Missionary Establishment of San Juan Capistrano, Alta California.”

http://www.sacred-texts.com/nam/ca/bosc/

Quoth Wikipedia: “Born at Llucmajor on the island of Mallorca, Spain, in 1776. Boscana was educated at Palma and joined the Franciscan order in 1792. He traveled to Mexico in 1803 and to California in 1806. He served at Mission Nuestra Senora en la Soledad, Mission La Purisima Concepcion, and Mission San Luis Rey de Francia. For more than a decade, from 1812–1826, he was stationed at Mission San Juan Capistrano. He died at Mission San Gabriel in 1831.”

“Chinigchinich was known under three distinct names, as follows: SaorQuaguar, and Tobet. Each one possessing its particular signification, denoting diversity or a difference of times. Saor, signifies or means, that period in which Chinigchinich could not dance; Quaguar, when enabled to dance; and Tobet, when he danced enrobed in a dress composed of feathers, with a crown of the same upon his head, and his face painted black and red. They say that once, while dancing in this costume, he was taken up into heaven, where are located the stars. His order was, that they should use this mode of dress in their grand feasts–an observance, regarded to this day.

–Fr. Geronimo Boscana

Fr. Boscana squeamishly describes the “extravagances” of the Indians, the hallucinatory concoctions and painful initiation rites, but he scoffs at the important ritual art of groundpainting. He calls the drawings nonsense, crude; vulgar cartoons. It’s surprising Boscana was not more interested in this aspect of the spread of the cult, since the Franciscans themselves put colorful paintings of heaven and hell in every mission. Also, the legendary founding of San Gabriel Mission was effected when a missionary party unfurled a painting of Our Lady of Sorrows, which awed and fascinated an attacking Tongva war party. All the local tribes had highly-developed artistic traditions, rock art, signs, symbols and images. Anthropologist Charles Irwin describes how Indian groundpaintings were visual representations of Chinigchinich’s metaphysical world:

“Among southern California societies, such as those of the Diegueiio,Luiseno, Juaneiio and Gabrielino, world view was reflected in rites of passage, including the Chinigchinich initiation rites for adolescent boys and girls. The ritual dances and costumes worn by youthful initiates and by older functionaries in the religious system were analogous to the dance and costume of Chinigchinich “who taught the elders how to dance” (Boscana 1970:12). The tortures and privations endured by males included whipping, ant bites, fasting and doses of a beverage extracted from the roots of Jimson weed. Shamans administered a tobacco concoction to girl initiates (Dubois 1908:94), who underwent ordeals differing from those in boys’ initiation… groundpaintings were a component of Luiseno ritual; they were symbolic representations of the universe and the ideal development of an individual in his or her quest to
learn group mores and to reach an upper realm of spiritual fulfillment after death. The “paintings” formed part of the Chinigchinich complex including the Jimson weed ceremony and the ant ordeal: they were used to instruct youthful inhiates about the origins and structure of the universe. The attributes of the deity, Chinigchinich, found expression in the groundpaintings as in other ritual elements of the saga of boys’ and girls’ initiation. The “punishers,”\ who occupied positions around the center of the painting, were “Chinigchinich” animals such as the rattlesnake, the bear, “panther,” and the black spider, and were capable of inflicting misfortunes upon ritually wayward individuals.. The
paintings were also used in such mortuary rituals as the Unish matakish, during which the
clan or “party” chief buried the feathers of a deceased Chinigchinich initiate The doctors or shamans made these abstract and colorful sacred symbols in the ceremonial brush shelter (wamkish or vanquech) on ritual occasions.”

— Charles N. Irwin, The Journal of California Anthropology, 1978. Click below for full article.

https://escholarship.org/uc/item/5vk6198m

The enduring significance of Chinigchinich for the Indians of that is, for the Tongva, Chumash, and the Tataviam who were reduced to San Gabriel Mission and San Fernando Mission and the others, maybe appreciated in this remark by historian James A. Sandos:

“Some Indian societies were overwhelmed with the mission experience and lost touch with the old culture quickly. With a few significant exceptions, that was the case in the San Francisco Bay Area. In Southern California, the home of the Toloache Cults, Indians proved more resilient. Southern California Indians continued as much of their pre-contact religion and culture as they could throughout the life of the msisions and beyond, just outside the view of missionaries and other outsiders…Through the vehicle of the Spanish language, shamans and ceremonial leaders as well as their followers kept knowledge of their tribal lore alive and transmitted it to succeeding generations through oral tradition. They also preserved what they could of their original Indian language.”

— James A. Sandos, Converting California: Indians and Franciscans in the Missions. pp. 181-182

Below: a Tongva war party who had come out to resist the Spanish, were reportedly soothed to docility upon glimpsing Our Lady Of Sorrows. The Franciscan narrative is that the Indians knelt, paid homage to the Virgin, and accepted the friars’ mission and became Christian. This remarkable reported example of the importance of image-worship (or image-veneration, to the Franciscans) is celebrated as the founding of San Gabriel. The miraculous painting is still displayed next to the altar.

The New LA! …same as the old…

Find the front door! This is the California Department of Transportation (CALTrans). As highway builders, they apparently thought it important to support their bailiwick, making their building inaccessible EXCEPT by car.

I was all set to blog this morning about the ghastly, civilization-killing architecture projects that are devouring the city, as glimpsed from the top of City Hall. I was especially eager to express outrage at the fact that nobody in the City government has taken on board A SINGLE THING about the interlocking existential threats we face. (These are the threats to civilization itself in the next 10 years; we’ve already lost two years of our allotted dozen, thanks to Gen. Stupefaction.) They are the threats posed by climate change, water inequality, homelessness, disaster capitalism, environmental degradation, and human collapse.

I was all ginned up to hoot and jeer at these new buildings downtown, each of them a trillion-dollar project, each of them displacing blocks at a time, and each a perfect punch-in-the-nose to every modern idea you’ve ever heard of, be it New Urbanism, sustainable architecture, democracy, pedestrian access, adjacent diversity of retail and residential units, citizen involvement, public ownership, transit availability, or even the “City Beautiful.” This is the treeless, hot-wind-blasted future brought to you by the disaster capitalists. These are what they want us all to live and work in for the next 30 years or so, which is the useful life of these buildings. (Thus, unless somebody courageous spends millions to tear down these new buildings in the next two years or so, and re-re-invents downtown for people, then “We’Re FuckEd!” is already being baked right into our future pie.)

The Old/New Style: block-busting, climate-controlled, single-entrance cubes and towers, really only accessible by freeway. The buildings in this shot span 60 years of architecture — yet they’re all the same kind of bad. EASTER EGG: One of these buildings is the new max-security Downtown Mens’ Jail. Can you identify which?

Despite the techno-triumphalism you’ll read about LEED-buildings, “smart parking lots” and solar panels to run the water coolers, This Shit is what’s actually being built, everywhere. Not one of these buildings has a window that opens. Not one of them has more than a single, difficult, guarded entrance, for purposes of social control (leaving the other three sides as acres of blighted no-go-zones). There isn’t a cafe, a dry cleaner, or a drug store for blocks and blocks. Not one worker or resident will ever arrive at these buildings by Metro — for the simple reason that every seat on every train, at every hour, is already taken, already filled, over-flowing even, with terrified passengers squeezed by increasingly violent, crazy homeless-in-residence. If you can’t walk there and you can’t take the train, that means you’re going to drive there. And sure enough, all these buildings follow current city regulations mandating floors and floors of subterranean parking.

I was going to blog about all this!

Gleaming the Cube. That’s the shell of the old LA Times building on the corner, with its own once-monstrous additions that now seem hokey and quaint. The paper isn’t defunct, but its last two rounds of billionaire owners have long since abandoned downtown. The site awaits “redevelopment,” doubtless into more Gleaming Cube/Gleaming Tower, to reflect Gleaming Cube across the street and Gleaming Triangle across the other street.

Then I saw a piece online, saying Mayor Eric Garcetti had issued today a major statement of environmental commitment. For a moment I thought my curmudgeonly blog was toast; then I read the Mayor’s plan. He has indeed committed somebody, somebody else in fact, 30 years down the line, to seeing to it that 80% of the cars being driven in the LA of 2050, ought to be electric. Then, he further commanded this unnamed future leader, you will see to it that the power to run these cars, will come largely from renewable sources.

Finally, they are building over the site of that parking garage on Grand across from Disney Hall. Whatever complex goes up above the surface, you can bet it will include a huge net INCREASE in parking spaces on the site.

Patient Reader, if you think calling for someone to invent and implement a magic car sounds like a government plan, or if you think adding any kind of cars in any way pencils out to saving the planet, Good For You! Hizzoner deserves a gold star.

If, on the other hand, you look at these photos, and see the actual direction LA is going, you might instead want to save your gold star for whoever it is that screams “Enough!” and tears This Shit the F— Down, and puts the City of Los Angeles back on walkable streets with human-scaled, diverse affordable homes and businesses, right back where it all used to be.

HARR-rumph.





Market Street, 1967

San Francisco, Aug-Sep 1967. Thus, the last summer before The World Rushed In, Again (Only This Time Barefoot.) Watch SF’s local fauna beat their feet right the hell down Market St., at Powell where the cable cars turn around. Robert Durden’s silent, 8mm footage captures everything I ever imagined about Baghdad-by-the-Bay, in its happy, hazy hey-day. [Gay Studies: This was the Golden Age of public cruising — nuff said.] The SFPL has preserved this haunting film as a digital archive project. Bless them. It brought a tear to me e’e.

Holding A Place

My rocks! My precious rocks!

The wise oak, or sycamore, builds his house upon the rock.

Of course, those same smug oaks (and sycamores) are doing everything they can to crush the very rocks they snagged and built upon, into base sand…only…very…very…VERY…slowly. Thus many generations of men pass and die, without anybody spotting what the crafty oaks are doing: creating their own real estate. (Hmmm…very Dutch.)

Below, two sycamores near the top of the canyon are down to bedrock after the latest storms. The first is well-supported, but the second is hanging precariously, all her soil base gone. Enlarge, and you can see, however, that she has a single long tap-root plunging down into the waterfall pool. Sycamores are clambering and long-lived, and the pool is a good water source. I’d bet on the survival of this tree, which now has only a few tiny sprigs of spring life, at right.

Let the waste grains slip through their roots — let the other plants find a season or two of riot on the shifting sands of the creek bed. Any tree who wants to be a Big Tree, will hang onto their rocks like Rockefellers. Fires come, floods go. Hang. Onto. The. Rocks.

They build up the terrace behind them — until a season of flood strips away ten vertical feet of canyon soil, down to bedrock, and the buttresses and arches of the oak’s understory are exposed, high and dry. Still — as long as they can clutch a few boulders, they will soon start building up new soil around them, to cover their roots again, with the upgrade of a brand new canyon floor. 400 years of Romanovs, indeed.

“A conservative is a fellow standing athwart history, yelling “Stop!”

William F. Buckley