Barbara Kirshenblatt-Gimblett

The 1988 Bad Homburg symposium reveals incommensurabilities in the ways that American folklorists and German Volkskundler understand their roles in public life. So different are the histories of American folklore and German Volkskunde that it is virtually impossible to translate the term public folklore into German. The closest approximation, öffentliche Folklore, refers to public (mis)uses of Volkskunde in the absence of Volkskundler, not the profession of public folklore, as American folklorists understand it. Whereas American public folklorists see themselves as cultural activists, German Volkskundler see themselves as cultural critics. Mindful of the abuses of Volkskunde during the Third Reich, the Volkskundler are particularly sensitive to the popular misuses of Volkskunde, understood not only as folklore but also as folkloristics. Though Volkskundler have historically worked in museums, not only as researchers but also as curators of exhibitions, they are more likely to analyze public folklore than to produce it. Volkskundler have long argued that the very act of studying what we call folklore contributes to a process of folklorization that brings the taken-for-granted into public view. While some folklorists argue that such visibility is empowering, the Volkskundler, as well as some folklorists, are wary of such instrumentalizations of the habitus. They note how cultural celebration can be used against the best interests of those represented. This essay, a response to the published Bad Homburg symposium proceedings (JFR 36:2-3), explores these incommensurabilities in relation to entanglement of our professional knowledge and popular uses of it in the public sphere, the academy, and the museum.

Bluegrass and "White Trash": A Case Study Concerning the Name "Folklore" and Class Bias

Many have questioned whether the word "folklore" accurately describes the aspects of culture that are studied by contemporary folklorists; these recent critiques form the backdrop of this article. Part of this name debate emerged from concerns about the negative effects of "folklore" stereotypes on the scholarly and professional field. Clearly, the word "folklore" can conjure stereotypical and class-biased images for some who hear the term. This attitude--spoken or unspoken--is problematic; it is uninformed about the total realities of the field, and it is rooted in cultural elitism.

However, we argue that this problem can be addressed, in part, by acknowledging that some folklorists do study just the kinds of things that other folklorists may try to distance themselves from. We ask, "What is so horrible about being associated with these particular things, especially if folklorists can make a good case for studying them?" We examine Doug Enders's experience as a member of particularly stereotyped "folk" group: a not-so-good bluegrass band. We do this to demonstrate that while the term "folklore" can bring out stereotypes and biases, it also provides folklorists a chance to engage in a dialogue that explores and challenges these biases and assumptions. Indeed, we are concerned that if folklorists change the name of the field in part because of the biases they fear the name evokes, they are capitulating to those very biases.

Michael Owen Jones

What's Disgusting, Why, and What Does It Matter?

Little attention has been paid to disgust, although efforts to understand why people eat what they do would benefit from knowing what people don't eat; furthermore, in this article I argue that the idea of "disgust" has moral implications too. Whether or not disgust is universal in the human species remains to be determined. At least in the experience of Euro-Americans, disgust appears to consist of feelings of revulsion that constitute a distinct emotion expressed through a characteristic facial expression and the action of distancing oneself from the offensive object. In this regard, disgust differs from simple dislike or distaste--and while it leads to aversion, it is not the same as aversive learning or bait shyness. Most commentators contend that animals and the waste products associated with them are the primary disgust objects, yet rotting plants and their sensory qualities often evoke disgust. People sometimes purposefully participate in loathsome behavior out of desperation, for sensationalism, or to boast, engage in one-up-manship, mark identity, or take part in the forbidden, which has the power to allure.

Why we have the disgust response remains uncertain. It may result from the customs and concerns surrounding toilet training, the bodily changes experienced in puberty, and the development in childhood of the concept of "contagion" and fears of contamination. The disgust response resembles a "negative aesthetic experience," has led to concerns over etiquette and manners, and invokes moral sentiments resulting in the segregation of people on the basis of what they eat and how they eat these things.

Ray Cashman

Mumming with the Neighbors in West Tyrone

See also the online multimedia feature complementing this piece. 

While conducting fieldwork on commemoration and collective memory in Northern Ireland, I was invited by my neighbors to join their Christmas mumming group. That experience led to this short, informal piece, which offers insights--from my perspective as a newly initiated mummer--into the motivations, group dynamics, and improvisational play of a contemporary mumming group. By describing how the group assembled and practiced, the essay touches on how this tradition is transmitted from veterans to new recruits. By recalling specific performances, the piece describes the contexts in which mumming is performed today.

As a result of my mumming experience, I relaxed my initial compulsion to document folklore as a thing and came to appreciate being part of folklore as a process. Although folk drama was not the primary focus of my fieldwork, my experience as a mummer was foundational in my relationships with new neighbors and to my understanding of my role as a fieldworker. Thus, this "encounter with folklore" also allows for some reflection on fieldwork and methodology.

Bill Ivey

Folklore, Art, and Indiana

In this speech, given at the dedication of the renovated Indiana University Auditorium, I argue that when we celebrate the care that goes into the restoration of a great building, we must remember that bricks and mortar are only metaphors for the people and the invisible structures that are the heart of great institutions. Talk of "heritage" and "legacy" must be talk about people of dedication--like IU Chancellor Herman B Wells or folklorist Stith Thompson--who were unafraid to create new educational possibilities.

Likewise, I believe the National Endowment for the Arts can be a catalyst in the effort to renew and expand our nation's commitment to the arts as a core component of learning. For me, the folklorist's vision of the centrality of art and artists to human experience is the most useful starting point from which to argue the importance of music, drama, dance, and our federal arts agency. Folklore believes that art and art-making are windows into family life, culture, and behavior: communities and individuals use their expressive capacities to synthesize experience and creativity and to gather up values and traditions for presentation to the outside world.

Based on the premise that our expressive lives constitute the basic currency of civil society, I outline my goals to 1) make art central to the lives of our young citizens, 2) recognize artists as citizens who make a distinct and irreplaceable contribution to society, and 3) bring the values, insights, and skills of artists to bear on public policy making.