You are on page 1of 67

Body Schema and Body Image: New

Directions Yochai Ataria


Visit to download the full and correct content document:
https://ebookmass.com/product/body-schema-and-body-image-new-directions-yochai
-ataria/
Body Schema and Body Image
Body Schema and
Body Image
New Directions
Edited by

YO C HA I ATA R IA
Tel-​Hai College, Israel

SHO G O TA NA KA
Tokai University, Japan

SHAU N G A L L AG H E R
University of Memphis, USA, and University of Wollongong, Australia

1
3
Great Clarendon Street, Oxford, OX2 6DP,
United Kingdom
Oxford University Press is a department of the University of Oxford.
It furthers the University’s objective of excellence in research, scholarship,
and education by publishing worldwide. Oxford is a registered trade mark of
Oxford University Press in the UK and in certain other countries
© Oxford University Press 2021
The moral rights of the authors have been asserted
First Edition published in 2021
Impression: 1
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in
a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the
prior permission in writing of Oxford University Press, or as expressly permitted
by law, by licence or under terms agreed with the appropriate reprographics
rights organization. Enquiries concerning reproduction outside the scope of the
above should be sent to the Rights Department, Oxford University Press, at the
address above
You must not circulate this work in any other form
and you must impose this same condition on any acquirer
Published in the United States of America by Oxford University Press
198 Madison Avenue, New York, NY 10016, United States of America
British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data
Data available
Library of Congress Control Number: 2020952987
ISBN 978–​0–​19–​885172–​1
DOI: 10.1093/​oso/​9780198851721.001.0001
Printed and bound by
CPI Group (UK) Ltd, Croydon, CR0 4YY
Oxford University Press makes no representation, express or implied, that the
drug dosages in this book are correct. Readers must therefore always check
the product information and clinical procedures with the most up-​to-​date
published product information and data sheets provided by the manufacturers
and the most recent codes of conduct and safety regulations. The authors and
the publishers do not accept responsibility or legal liability for any errors in the
text or for the misuse or misapplication of material in this work. Except where
otherwise stated, drug dosages and recommendations are for the non-​pregnant
adult who is not breast-​feeding
Links to third party websites are provided by Oxford in good faith and
for information only. Oxford disclaims any responsibility for the materials
contained in any third party website referenced in this work.
Contents

Acknowledgement vii
About the Editors ix
Contributors xi
Introduction xiii

PA RT I : T H E O R E T IC A L C L A R I F IC AT IO N :
B O DY S C H E M A A N D B O DY I M AG E
1. What is the body schema? 3
Frédérique de Vignemont, Victor Pitron, and Adrian J. T. Alsmith
2. The space of the body schema: putting the schema in movement 18
David Morris
3. Body schema dynamics in Merleau-​Ponty 33
Jan Halák
4. A radical phenomenology of the body: subjectivity and sensations
in body image and body schema 52
Helena De Preester
5. Body schema and body image in motor learning: refining
Merleau-​Ponty’s notion of body schema 69
Shogo Tanaka
6. Reimagining the body image 85
Shaun Gallagher
7. The body in the German neurology of the early twentieth century 99
Andreas Kalckert

PA RT I I : B R A I N , B O DY, A N D SE L F
8. Plasticity and tool use in the body schema 117
Daniele Romano and Angelo Maravita
9. Triadic body representations in the human cerebral cortex and
peripheral nerves 133
Noriaki Kanayama and Kentaro Hiromitsu
10. Body models in humans, animals, and robots: mechanisms and plasticity 152
Matej Hoffmann
vi Contents
11. From implicit to explicit body awareness in the first two years of life 181
Philippe Rochat and Sara Valencia Botto
12. Cross-​referenced body and action for the unified self: empirical,
developmental, and clinical perspectives 194
Shu Imaizumi, Tomohisa Asai, and Michiko Miyazaki
13. Growing up a self: on the relation between body image and
the experience of the interoceptive body 210
Rosie Drysdale and Manos Tsakiris

PA RT I I I : D I S O R D E R S , A N OM A L I E S , A N D T H E R A P I E S
14. The embodied and social self: insights on body image and body
schema from neurological conditions 229
Jonathan Cole
15. Unilateral body neglect: schemas versus images? 244
Laurence Havé, Anne-​Emmanuelle Priot, Laure Pisella, Gilles Rode,
and Yves Rossetti
16. Neural underpinnings of body image and body schema disturbances 267
Jasmine Ho and Bigna Lenggenhager
17. Body schema and body image disturbances in individuals
with multiple sclerosis 285
Britt Normann
18. Body schema and pain 301
Katsunori Miyahara
19. Feeling of a presence and anomalous body perception 316
Masayuki Hara, Olaf Blanke, and Noriaki Kanayama
20. The body image–​body schema/​ownership–​agency model
for pathologies: four case studies 328
Aviya Ben David and Yochai Ataria

Index 349
Acknowledgement

We thank Noam Tiran for his help with this volume’s preparation.
About the Editors

Yochai Ataria is an associate professor at Tel-​Hai College, Israel. He conducted his


post-​doctoral research in the Neurobiology Department at the Weizmann Institute
of Science. He is the author of the following books: The Structural Trauma of Western
Culture (2017); Body Disownership in Complex Post-​Traumatic Stress Disorder (2018);
The Mathematics of Trauma [Hebrew] (2014); Not in our Brain [Hebrew] (2019); Levi
and Ka-​Tsetnik (2021); and Consciousness in Flesh (in press). In addition, he co-​edited
the following volumes: Interdisciplinary Handbook of Culture and Trauma (2016); Jean
Améry: Beyond the Minds Limits (2019); Kafka: New Perspectives [Hebrew] (2013); The
End of the Human Era [Hebrew] (2016); 2001: A Space Odyssey—​50th Anniversary
[Hebrew] (2019).

Shogo Tanaka is a professor of psychology and philosophy at Tokai University in Japan.


He received his PhD in philosophical psychology from Tokyo Institute of Technology.
Dr Tanaka is primarily interested in phenomenology and psychology and, more spe-
cifically, in clarifying the theoretical foundations of psychology from the perspective
of embodiment, being inspired by the ideas of Maurice Merleau-​Ponty. The topics
of his published papers encompass a broad range of issues, including body schema,
body image, skill acquisition, embodied self, social cognition, theory of mind,
and intercorporeality. From 2013 to 2014, and from 2016 to 2017, he stayed at the
Department of Psychiatry of the University of Heidelberg in Germany as a visiting
scholar, where he worked on phenomenology, psychology, and psychopathology. His
recent publications include: ‘Intercorporeality and Aida’ (Theory & Psychology, 27,
337–​353), ‘What is it like to be disconnected from the body?’ (Journal of Consciousness
Studies, 25, 239–​262), and other articles.

Shaun Gallagher is the Lillian and Morrie Moss Professor of Excellence in Philosophy
at the University of Memphis, USA, and Professorial Fellow at the School of Liberal
Arts, University of Wollongong, Australia. He was a Humboldt Foundation Anneliese
Maier Research Fellow (2012–​18). His publications include: Action and Interaction
(2020); Enactivist Interventions: Rethinking the Mind (2017); The Neurophenomenology
of Awe and Wonder (2015); Phenomenology (2012); The Phenomenological Mind (with
Dan Zahavi, 2012); and How the Body Shapes the Mind (2005). He is also editor-​in-​chief
of the journal Phenomenology and the Cognitive Sciences.
Contributors

Adrian J. T. Alsmith, Philosophy department, King’s College, London, UK


Tomohisa Asai, Senior Researcher, Department of Cognitive Neuroscience, Advanced
Telecommunications Research Institute International (ATR), Seika, Japan
Yochai Ataria, Associate Professor, Department of Psychology, Tel-​Hai College, Israel
Olaf Blanke, Professor, Laboratory of Cognitive Neuroscience, Center for Neuroprosthetics & Brain-
Mind Institute, Swiss Federal Institute of Technology (EPFL), Geneva, Switzerland
Sara Valencia Botto, Lecturer and Researcher in Psychology, Emory University, Atlanta, USA
Jonathan Cole, Clinical Neurophysiologist and Consultant, Poole and Salisbury Hospitals, UK
Aviya Ben David, Research Assistant, Department of Psychology, Tel-​Hai College, Israel
Rosie Drysdale, Postgraduate Research Student, Department of Psychology, Royal Holloway
University of London, London, UK
Shaun Gallagher, Lillian and Morrie Moss Professor of Excellence in Philosophy, University of
Memphis, USA, and Professorial Fellow, School of Liberal Arts, University of Wollongong, Australia
Jan Halák, Assistant Professor, Department of Philosophy, Faculty of Arts, Palacký University
Olomouc, Olomouc, Czech Republic
Masayuki Hara, Associate Professor, Graduate School of Science and Engineering, Saitama
University, Saitama, Japan
Laurence Havé, ImpAct/​Trajectoires Team, Lyon Neuroscience Research Center, Bron, and Hôpital
d’Instruction des Armées Desgenettes, Lyon, France
Kentaro Hiromitsu, JSPS Research Fellow, Department of Psychology, Graduate School of Humanities
and Sociology, The University of Tokyo; Project Researcher, Department of Psychology, Graduate
School of Humanities and Sociology, The University of Tokyo; and Visiting Researcher, Department
of Cognitive Neuroscience, Cognitive Mechanisms Laboratories, Advanced Telecommunications
Research Institute International (ATR), Kyoto, Japan
Jasmine Ho, PhD Student and Member of the Cognitive Neuropsychology Research Group,
Department of Psychology, University of Zürich, Zürich, Switzerland
Matej Hoffmann, Assistant Professor, Department of Cybernetics, Faculty of Electrical Engineering,
Czech Technical University in Prague, Czech Republic
Shu Imaizumi, Assistant Professor, Institute for Education and Human Development, Ochanomizu
University, Tokyo, Japan
Andreas Kalckert, Senior Lecturer in Cognitive Neuroscience, Department of Cognitive
Neuroscience and Philosophy, Institute for Bioscience, University of Skövde, Skövde, Sweden
Noriaki Kanayama, Scientist, Human Informatics and Interaction Research Institute, National
Institute of Advanced Industrial Science and Technology (AIST), Tsukuba, and Lecturer, Center for
Brain, Mind and KANSEI Sciences Research, Hiroshima University, Hiroshima, Japan
xii Contributors
Bigna Lenggenhager, Professor and Head of the Cognitive Neuropsychology Research Group,
University of Zürich, Zürich, Switzerland
Angelo Maravita, Professor of Psychobiology and Head of Psychology Department, University of
Milano-​Bicocca, Milan, Italy
Katsunori Miyahara, Specially Appointed Lecturer, Center for Human Nature, Artificial Intelligence,
and Neuroscience (CHAIN), Hokkaido University, Sapporo, Japan
Michiko Miyazaki, Associate Professor, Faculty of Social Information Studies, Otsuma Women’s
University, Tokyo, Japan
David Morris, Professor of Philosophy, Concordia University, Montreal, Canada
Britt Normann, Professor in Health Sciences, Nord University, Bodø, and Clinical Specialist in
Neurological Physiotherapy and Researcher, Nordland Hospital Trust, Bodø, Norway
Laure Pisella, ImpAct/​Trajectoires Team, Lyon Neuroscience Research Center, Bron, France
Victor Pitron, Psychiatrist, Pitié-​Salpêtrière Hospital, and PhD Student, the Jean Nicod Institute,
Paris, France
Helena De Preester, Professor of Philososophy, The Royal Academy of Fine Arts and the Royal
Conservatory, School of Arts, University of Applied Sciences and Arts, Ghent, and Visiting research
professor, Department of Philosophy and Moral Sciences, Ghent University, Belgium
Anne-​Emmanuelle Priot, ImpAct/​Trajectoires Team, Lyon Neuroscience Research Center, Bron, and
Institut de Recherche Biomédicale des Armées (IRBA), Brétigny-​sur-​Orge, France
Philippe Rochat, Professor of Psychology and Director of the Emory Infant and Child Lab, Emory
University, Atlanta, USA
Gilles Rode, ImpAct/​Trajectoires Team, Lyon Neuroscience Research Center, Bron, and Service de
médecine physique et réadaptation, Hôpital Henry-​Gabrielle, Hospices Civils de Lyon, France
Daniele Romano, Researcher, Psychology Department, University of Milano-​Bicocca, Milan, Italy;
Department of History, Society and Human Studies, University of Salento, Lecce, Italy
Yves Rossetti, ImpAct/​Trajectoires Team, Lyon Neuroscience Research Center, Bron, and Plate-​forme
Mouvement et Handicap, Lyon Neuroscience Research Center, Bron, France
Shogo Tanaka, Professor of Psychology and Philosophy, Tokai University, Tokyo, Japan
Manos Tsakiris, Professor of Psychology, Department of Psychology, Royal Holloway University of
London, London, UK
Frédérique de Vignemont, Jean Nicod Institute, CNRS - EHESS - ENS, PSL University, Paris, France
Introduction
Yochai Ataria, Shogo Tanaka, and Shaun Gallagher

According to the famous saying, ‘We feel well as long as we do not feel our body’. Indeed,
under normal circumstances, we largely forget our body. As long as we continue to
function smoothly in the world, our body remains in the background. By contrast,
stress, stares, injuries, disabilities, certain cultural prejudices, and the like can shift the
body into the foreground.
Not only do we forget our bodies in our everyday existence, but philosophers seem
to have ignored the question of the body for too long. Even today, philosophical dis-
cussions of the body often approach it as a thing to be examined from a scientific
viewpoint—​the body-​as-​object rather than the body-​as-​subject.
There remain many outstanding questions concerning the nature and the history of
the body. However, today, in the age of neuroscience, one of the most pressing ques-
tions seems to concern whether the body is in the brain, that is, can all bodily processes
relating to perceptual and motoric functions be reduced to neuronal representations?
A neuroscientific explanation of phantom limbs appears to suggest that our body
can be reduced to maps in the brain or that the body, as we experience it, is itself a
phantom produced by neural processes. Philosophers from Descartes (1637/​1996)
to Dennett (1991) have considered matrix-​like scenarios involving an illusory body
generated by an evil demon or a brain in a vat. Yet if we accept the notion that the
body can be reduced to the homunculus, and the world is nothing more than a rep-
resentation in our brain, how can we know for sure that we are not dreaming at this
very moment?
If the phantom limb phenomenon forces us to ask whether our body can be re-
duced to neural maps in our brain, various psychopathologies, such as anorexia and
body dysmorphic disorder, remind us that the body (which, of course, includes the
brain) is never divorced from social contexts—​from the very outset, we are thrown
into a shared world. Essentially, not only is the image of our body shaped by social
context, but rather, it has also been demonstrated that the body-​schematic sensori-
motor loop is shaped by social context (Durt, Tewes, & Fuchs, 2017). Indeed our
body is the target of a gaze or the subject of others’ judgement as well as our own
(Merleau-​Ponty, 2012, p. 170):

Man does not ordinarily show his body, and, when he does, it is either nervously or
with the intention to fascinate. It seems to him that the alien gaze that glances over
his body steals it from him or, on the contrary, that the exhibition of his body will

Yochai Ataria, Shogo Tanaka, and Shaun Gallagher, Introduction In: Body Schema and Body Image. Edited by: Yochai Ataria, Shogo Tanaka,
and Shaun Gallagher, Oxford University Press. © Oxford University Press 2021. DOI: 10.1093/​oso/​9780198851721.001.0001
xiv Introduction
disarm and deliver the other person over to him, and in this case the other person
will be reduced to slavery. Thus, modesty and immodesty take place in a dialectic of
self and other that is the dialectic of master and slave. Insofar as I have a body, I can
be reduced to an object beneath the gaze of another person and no longer count
for him as a person. Or again, to the contrary, I can become his master and gaze
upon him in turn. But this mastery is a dead end, since, at the moment my value is
recognized by the other’s desire, the other person is no longer the person by whom
I wanted to be recognized: he is now a fascinated being, without freedom, and who
as such no longer counts for me. To say that I have a body is thus a way of saying that
I can be seen as an object and that I seek to be seen as a subject, that another person
can be my master or my slave, such that modesty and immodesty express the dia-
lectic of the plurality of consciousnesses and that they in fact have a metaphysical
signification.

Our bodies can be objects of desire, shame, or even disgust. Yet we are objectified
not only by others, but also by ourselves; indeed, as the popularity of plastic surgery
indicates, many of us are never really satisfied with our bodies. The body is the locus of
the drama.
Frantz Fanon, a black psychiatrist and philosopher raised in the French colony of
Martinique and the author of Black Skin, White Masks (2008), adds a critical perspec-
tive when depicting his experience as a black man among whites. Fanon’s description
allows us to understand how the other’s gaze in a racist social world permeates our
bodily experience, in particular the idea that social distortions can impinge on the body
schema (p. 83):

And then the occasion arose when I had to meet the white man’s eyes. An unfamiliar
weight burdened me. The real world challenged my claims. In the white world
the man of color encounters difficulties in the development of his bodily schema.
Consciousness of the body is solely a negating activity. It is a third person conscious-
ness. The body is surrounded by an atmosphere of certain uncertainty. I know that
if I want to smoke, I shall have to reach out my right arm and take the pack of cig-
arettes lying at the other end of the table. The matches, however, are in the drawer
on the left, and I shall have to lean back slightly. And all these movements are made
not out of habit but out of implicit knowledge. A slow composition of my self as a
body in the middle of a spatial and temporal world—​such seems to be the schema.
It does not impose itself on me; it is, rather, a definitive structuring of the self and
of the world—​definitive because it creates a real dialectic between my body and the
world . . .

While reading Fanon’s description, it becomes clear that the question of the body
cannot be examined independently of our situatedness in the world and our most basic
sense of subjectivity. Merleau-​Ponty also highlights this close link between worldly
situation and the body (2012, p. 431).
Introduction xv
If the subject is in a situation, or even if the subject is nothing other than a possibility
of situations, this is because he only achieves his ipseity by actually being a body and
by entering into the world through this body. If I find, while reflecting upon the es-
sence of the body, that it is tied to the essence of the world, this is because my existence
as subjectivity is identical with my existence as a body and with the existence of the
world, and because, ultimately, the subject that I am, understood concretely, is insep-
arable from this particular body and from this particular world. The ontological world
and body that we uncover at the core of the subject are not the world and the body as
ideas; rather, they are the world itself condensed into a comprehensive hold and the
body itself as a knowing-​body.

Note, however, that even if we embrace a radical embodied approach, emphasizing


its coupling with the physical, social, and cultural environment, it would, of course,
be a mistake to reject the role that the brain plays in the lived and bodily experience
of subjectivity. Indeed, scholars have repeatedly demonstrated that there are complex
dynamic links between neuronal plasticity (and sometimes localized brain damage),
bodily function and dysfunction, and changes in the experience of self and the world.
This volume will not solve the mystery of the body. Instead, we will examine herein
the question of the body by focusing on two concepts: body image and body schema.
We can tentatively define body image as a ‘system of perceptions, attitudes, and beliefs
pertaining to one’s own body’ and body schema as a ‘system of sensory-​motor cap-
acities that function without awareness or the necessity of perceptual monitoring’. It
has been further suggested that a double dissociation exists between body schema and
body image, although, essentially, ‘body image and body schema refer to two different
but closely related systems’ (Gallagher, 2005, p. 24). That said, the goal of this volume
is not merely to explore each one of these concepts, but also to improve our under-
standing of the complex relationship between them.
We hope to demonstrate that the concepts of body image and body schema enable
us to build new bridges and generate innovative theories. Let us begin by locating the
body image/​body schema problem in the broader context of the body-​in-​the-​brain
versus the body-​in-​the-​world debate.

Body-​in-​the-​brain versus body-​in-​the-​world

Following Merleau-​Ponty, those who ascribe to the body-​in-​the-​world approach re-


ject the very notion of bodily representations, as Morris comments (Chapter 2, p. 28),
‘Why would you ever think of neurons as doing anything like abstractly representing
positions to control, when they are clearly achieving control by virtue of being distrib-
uted over, moving around in, and working within, the very body and tentacles that are
movingly touching things?’. In his 1953 lectures, Merleau-​Ponty (2011) claimed that
the body schema operates in the background; it does not involve a perceptual moni-
toring of the body. To grasp this notion, it is helpful to think about body schema in
xvi Introduction
terms of figure and ground—​in our daily life, while operating fluently in the world,
the body schema remains in the background as part of the pre-​noetic structure of
perception. However, it is far from being some kind of passive system; instead, we
may think about body schema in terms of what Husserl called the ‘I can’. Essentially,
body schema should be described in terms of knowing-​how, a pragmatic kind of
knowledge that allows our environment to become ready-​to-​hand. Continuing this
line of thought, there is no need for a central system controlling the body (or better
put: A body) within a Newtonian space, because the body itself (as a distributed
sensory-​motor system) is pragmatically oriented in space: ‘Our body is not primarily
in space, but is rather of space’ (Merleau-​Ponty, 2012, p. 149). Thus, according to this
approach, the body image plays a secondary role with respect to motor control, al-
though, as Tanaka suggests (Chapter 5), it may come to the fore when learning new
movements or skills.
By contrast, those who ascribe to the body-​in-​the-​brain approach concentrate on
the role played by the brain in the body’s interactions with the surrounding environ-
ment and with others. As the body interacts with the world, afferent signals constantly
flow from peripheral nerves to the brain and efferent signals are sent from the brain to
control the body’s muscles and joints. The findings of both sensory and motor homun-
culi (or body maps) are the most classic expressions of the body-​in-​the-​brain approach
(Penfield & Rasmussen, 1950), demonstrating the relative independence of neural rep-
resentation of the body from the physical body itself. Penfield shows that direct elec-
trical stimulations to the somatosensory cortex cause subjective experiences of touch.
This becomes even clearer when considering particular symptoms, such as phantom
limbs, amputees’ experience of ‘a tingling feeling and a definite shape that resembles the
somatosensory experience of the real limb before amputation’ (Melzack, 1990, p. 88).
Thus, phantom sensations seem to correlate with neural activation in the somatosen-
sory cortex. This body-​in-​the-​brain view tends to replace the body that we live and
experience with the complex neural representation of the body. In its most extreme ver-
sion, this view enables neuroscientists to claim that ‘your own body is a phantom, one
that your brain has temporarily constructed purely for convenience’ (Ramachandran
& Blakeslee, 1998, p. 58). Although this approach acknowledges the sensory-​motor ac-
tivities of our body in the physical dimension, they are mostly considered in terms of
internal computational models within the brain. According to this approach, the body
schema is not a system that holistically incorporates the physical body acting in the
world, but rather the sensory-​motor representation mapped within the brain.
By emphasizing both the situatedness of the body as well as the role of the brain in re-
lation to the lived body, we hope that this volume will take us another step toward a ma-
ture dialogue between the body-​in-​the-​brain approach, which should not be without
a body, on the one hand, and the body-​in-​the-​world approach, which should not be
without a brain, on the other.
Having located the body image/​body schema debate in terms of a broader set of
questions, it is time to dive into the very heart of the discussion. Given the importance
of the case of deafferentation to our understanding of body schema and body image, as
Introduction xvii
well as the double dissociation between body image and body schema, let us begin by
presenting the case of Ian Waterman.

Cases of deafferentation

Ian Waterman, sometimes referred to as IW in the scientific literature, became deaffer-


ented from the neck down at the age of 19. As a result of peripheral neuronopathy, he
lost his sense of touch and proprioception below the neck, and initially he was unable
to control his movements. After a lengthy rehabilitation, IW learnt how to do so mainly
via visual and cognitive efforts (Cole, 1995).
Based on this finding, it has been suggested that IW’s body schema has been re-
placed by an enhanced body image, that is, a conscious visual awareness of his body
(Gallagher, 2005, p. 52):

[I]‌f he [IW] is denied access to a visual awareness of his body’s position in the percep-
tual field, or denied the ability to think about his body, then, without the framework
of the body image, the virtual body schema ceases to function—​it cannot stand on its
own . . . IW has substituted a virtual body schema—​a set of cognitively driven motor
processes. This virtual schema seems to function only within the framework of a body
image that is consciously and continually maintained.

Frédérique de Vignemont (2018) believes that one of the most important questions
concerning deafferentation is ‘whether more than thirty years later bodily control
still requires the same effort’ (p. 148). Considering the case of Ginette Lizotte (GL),
de Vignemont suggests an alternative explanation for this relative success with regard
to movement among deafferented subjects ‘[who] can move in a relatively impressive
manner’. Given this observation, she asks: ‘But in what sense is the body schema de-
fective in these patients?’ de Vignemont argues that the body schema ‘is at least partially
preserved in deafferentation’ (p. 147). In order to support this notion, she re-​examines
the role that vision plays in body-​schematic processes: ‘The role of vision for the body
schema is thus not unusual . . . it is merely more drastically important in the case of
deafferented patients [who] . . . consciously exploit their body schema, as in conscious
motor imagery.’ Furthermore, she argues that ‘although based on different weighting of
information’, the body schema of deafferented patients relies ‘more on vision than be-
fore, but for all that, it is not “missing” ’ (p. 149).
Gallagher (2005) also explores the role of vision in body-​schematic processes: ‘Visual
sense is also a source of information vital to posture and movement.’ Thus, visual pro-
prioception and visual kinaesthesis ‘are more directly related to the body schema and
involve the tacit processing of visual information about the body’s movement in rela-
tion to the environment’. To be clearer, what we see in our daily life ‘automatically gets
translated into a proprioceptive sense of how to move’. This notion echoes Merleau-​
Ponty’s ideas (1968, p. 134):
xviii Introduction
every vision takes place somewhere in the tactile space. There is double and crossed
situating of the visible in the tangible and of the tangible in the visible; the two maps
are complete, and yet they do not merge into one. The two parts are total parts and yet
are not superposable.

Gallagher (2005) further stresses that although visual perception of the environ-
ment is important for body-​schematic processes, in daily life, the ‘direct visual per-
ception of one’s own body . . . does not play a major role in motor and postural control’,
and yet, ‘for IW it is the primary source of information about his body’ (p. 45). Indeed,
IW ‘depends heavily on visual perception of his limbs and visual proprioception in
order to control his movement’. He also argues that although usually there is ‘inter-
modal communication between proprioception and vision’, vision is nevertheless ‘not
designed to take the place of somatic proprioception’. Essentially, in the case of IW,
this intermodal communication is seriously disturbed. Gallagher (2005) concludes
by saying that in IW’s case, some realignment toward visual and cognitive control of
movement has taken place.1
de Vignemont (2018) stresses that while spending time with GL she almost ‘forgot
that there was anything abnormal besides her wheelchair . . . She could cut her meat
while having a normal discussion at lunch and even gesture with her knife and fork
like everybody else, or so it seemed’.2 Note, however, that unlike GL, IW can walk.
In that sense, GL’s situation is more similar to IW’s experience while driving, which
he appears to find easier than walking: ‘The car seems to be an extension of the body
schema’ (Gallagher & Cole, 1995, p. 386). Essentially, while driving, IW does not need
to control his full body with his vision. Likewise, his hands are always in sight. As a re-
sult the observer can develop a feeling that IW is driving on ‘automatic pilot’. However,
IW himself testifies that while driving he needs to think about how he holds the wheel
and how much force he must invest in order to move the wheel one way or the other
(and so on).
This ambiguity concerning the role of vision for body schema in deafferented
subjects may reflect a long-​standing confusion concerning body schema and body
image. Gallagher stresses that the concepts of body image and body schema have been
unclear from the very outset. Likewise, de Vignemont (2018) believes that ‘there is a
lack of precise understanding of the functional role of the body schema as opposed to
the body image and without clear definitional criteria . . . they cannot play any explana-
tory role’. This lack of clarity and precision has motivated occasional calls to abandon
the concepts. Perhaps, as de Vignemont herself suggests, ‘we should simply decide that

1 Indeed, some experimental evidence suggests that IW’s use of vision for motor control activates the ventral

visual pathway in the brain (the visual stream that underpins object recognition) rather than the dorsal visual
pathway that typically serves the motor system (Athwal et al., 1999).
2 It has been suggested (Cole, 2016; Forget & Lamarre, 1987) that GL is ataxic, meaning that she cannot drink

from a cup normally; she chews her food by counting because she cannot feel much of her mouth; she cannot put
her hand into a pocket or bring her hand to her mouth easily.
Introduction xix
we are better off without them’ (p. 152). Others concur, from Conrad in his 1933 book
(Das Körperschema. Eine kritische Studie und der Versuch einer Revision) to Berlucchi
and Aglioti (2010) more recently. With this in mind, let us investigate the source of this
confusion.

The source of conceptual confusion

Throughout the twentieth century, pivotal scholars regarded Head and Holmes’ (1911)
paper as definitive in the study of body schema and body image. Given the important
role of this study, some clarifications are necessary:

(1) Head and Holmes introduced the concept of body schema to explain the cog-
nitive and somatosensory deficits of patients with cerebral lesions. They con-
sidered body schema an implicit frame for the entire body, referred to when
recognizing the present posture or locating body parts.
(2) Head and Holmes argue that ‘postural recognition is not constantly in the cen-
tral field of attention’. Thus, they suggest that ‘every recognizable change enters
into consciousness already charged with its relation to something that has gone
before, just as on a taximeter the distance is presented to us already transformed
into shillings and pence’ (pp. 186–​187). Basically, body schema is an implicit
function underpinning our postural and motor control, and it rarely comes to
our conscious attention.
(3) Head and Holmes claim that ‘image, whether it be visual or motor, is not the
fundamental standard against which all postural changes are measured’ (p. 187).
Thus, visual images of the body are distinguished from body schema.

Many philosophers and neuroscientists have relied heavily on Jacques Paillard’s in-
terpretation of Head and Holmes’ study (Paillard, 2005, p. 103; citing Head & Holmes
1911,3 p. 212):

These authors suggested the distinction between a postural schema considered as


‘a combined standard against which all subsequent changes of posture are meas-
ured . . . before the change of posture enters consciousness . . . ’ and a body image as an
‘internal representation in the conscious experience of visual, tactile and motor infor-
mation of corporal origin’.

Reading Paillard’s citation carefully, it is important to note that Head and Holmes
(1911) never use the term ‘body image’ per se; likewise, they employ the concept of
representation only in reference to the image: ‘The assumption of an imagined posture

3 Referring to the 1911 paper.


xx Introduction
may be accompanied by representations of movement equivalent to the pictures of
those who visualize strongly’ (1911, p. 187). In any case, Head and Holmes do not pre-
cisely define body image but do distinguish images of the body from what they define
as schemata of the body.
Many believe that Paul Schilder (1886–​1940) was at least partly responsible for the
current confusion between body schema and body image (see Kalckert, Chapter 7).
In his German book, published in 1923, entitled Body Schema (Das Körperschema),
Schilder defines body schema as a ‘spatial image that one has from yourself ’ (p. 2; em-
phasis added [translated by Kalckert, p. 126]). In his English-​language book The Image
and Appearance of the Human Body, published in 1935, Schilder defines the body
image as the ‘picture of our own body which we form in our mind’ (p. 11). Yet on other
occasions, Schilder mixes up his terminology: ‘We mean the body schema when we
talk about the image of the own body, which is alive within us. It includes optical, kin-
aesthetic, and tactile elements, but it is not the sum of those, these achieve their true
meaning only by its relationship to this body schema’ (Hartmann & Schilder, 1927,
p. 666; emphasis added). In further cases, Schilder’s statements are even more con-
fusing: ‘The image we have of our body, or, as it is also called the body schema or pos-
tural model of the body, is partially based on sensations and partially on representations
and thoughts’ (Schilder, 1934, p. 314).
While reading Schilder’s definitions, one might suspect that he fails to properly dis-
tinguish between body schema and body image. However, we would like to offer a
different perspective on Schilder’s work. Aside from the issue of conceptual distinc-
tions, there is a question concerning how the brain, the body, and the world, including
the social environment, are entangled in our everyday life. It seems that Schilder’s work
succeeds, at least to some degree, in demonstrating how our bodily existence is inte-
grated with the social environment during our daily life. Notwithstanding the double
dissociation between body schema and body image, in everyday life, these two sys-
tems work together. In a sense, although his classification of body schema and body
image is unclear, Schilder’ analysis remains faithful to our bodily experiences in the
lifeworld.
Another source of confusion is the erroneous first translation of Merleau-​Ponty’s
Phenomenology of Perception. As Donald A. Landes, the translator of the new edition
(2012), stresses (p. xlix):

Merleau-​Ponty’s use of the term le schéma corporel introduces both historical and con-
ceptual difficulties. Merleau-​Ponty specifically rejects the interpretation of le schéma
corporel as a representation or image . . . Rather than following Schilder by writing
image in French—​or rather than adopting Lhermitte’s phrase l’image de notre corps
(‘the image of our body’)—​Merleau-​Ponty maintains schéma.

Having understood the root of this confusion, let us examine the concept of double
dissociation between body schema and body image more thoroughly.
Introduction xxi

Double dissociation

Based on an analysis of various pathological cases, both Paillard (1999) and Gallagher
(2005) discern a double dissociation between body image on the one hand and body
schema on the other: ‘It is possible . . . to find cases in which a subject has an intact
body image but a dysfunctional body schema, and vice versa’ (Gallagher 2005, p. 24).
For example, in some cases of unilateral personal neglect, a neuropsychological con-
dition involving a deficit in attention to, and awareness of, one side of the body fol-
lowing damage to the contralateral cortex, we can detect evidence of an intact body
schema (including controlled movement) together with the impairment of body
image for the neglected side. In one such case, the patient pays no attention to the left
side of her body and fails to dress that side, although there is no motor weakness on
that side; for instance, she uses her left hand to dress her right side (Denny-​Brown,
Meyer, & Horenstein, 1952). As we saw in the case of IW, other examples indicate the
opposite, that is, body schema deficit with an intact body image.
de Vignemont (2018) raises some doubts regarding the existence of a clear-​cut
double dissociation between body schema and body image. For instance, while the case
of unilateral neglect is referenced to show the presence of body schema and the absence
of body image, patients suffering from unilateral neglect are able to attend to the right
side of their body. According to de Vignemont, this indicates that the body image is not
completely absent, even if there is a deficit. Based on these observations, she argues that
double dissociation in a strict sense does not exist: ‘Most bodily disorders do not lead to
straightforward diagnosis in terms of either body image deficit or body schema deficit.
These deficits of body schema and body image are often intermingled and clear cases
of specific disruptions rarely found’ (p. 150; for further debate, see Havé, Priot, Pisella,
Rode, & Rossetti, Chapter 15).
Keeping this in mind, Gallagher (Chapter 6) stresses that we need to distinguish be-
tween conceptual ambiguity on the one hand and ambiguity in the phenomena them-
selves on the other; ambiguity at the level of the phenomena is not an argument against
the existence of dissociation between body schema and body image.
In a wider context, it seems that from the very outset, this ambiguity concerns the na-
ture of the relationship between the perceived body and the acting body, in particular
how these perspectives are interrelated in action. When we act in a habitual manner, we
often do so without explicitly perceiving our own bodies, whereas we may need to ex-
plicitly focus on our bodies when asked to execute a novel action.
The same kind of tension can be found between the body-​as-​subject and the body-​
as-​object. Rather than avoiding it, Merleau-​Ponty (1964, p. 162) encourages us to main-
tain what seems to be a structural ambiguity:

The enigma is that my body simultaneously sees and is seen. That which looks at all
things can also look at itself and recognize, in what it sees, the ‘other side’ of its power
xxii Introduction
of looking. It sees itself seeing; it touches itself touching; it is visible and sensitive for
itself.

According to Merleau-​Ponty, this tension is necessary for our existence: ‘There


is a human body when, between the seeing and the seen, between touching and the
touched, between one eye and the other, between hand and hand, a blending of some
sort takes place.’ If, however, this sensing–​sensed structure collapses, the very essence
of being human will lose its meaning. Moreover, should this subject–​object structure
collapse, meaning that we can no longer touch and be touched at the same time, this
signals not merely the end of the human body but in fact the end of humanity: ‘Such a
body would not reflect itself; it would be an almost adamantine body, not really flesh,
not really the body of a human being (pp. 163–​164).

The structure of this volume

This volume is divided into three parts. The first, ‘Theoretical clarification: body schema
and body image’, defines these concepts and explores the possible relations between
these systems. The second part, ‘Brain, body, and self ’, attempts to understand how the
body is represented in the brain and how this representation is developed into a sense
of self. The third part, ‘Disorders, anomalies, and therapies’, explores the role of body
schema and body image in different kinds of pathologies from phenomenological, cog-
nitive, and neural perspectives.
The book opens with a chapter by Frédérique de Vignemont, Victor Pitron, and
Adrian Alsmith, ‘What is the body schema?’ According to the authors, the body schema
can be defined as a representation of the body for action. However, they ask: what does
this statement really mean? Namely, what is the uniqeness of the body schema? Is it the
type of information that it represents, or perhaps the function of the representation? In
the second chapter ‘The space of the body schema’, David Morris focuses on the body
schema as well, albeit adopting a non-​representational approach. Given their repre-
sentational approach, a fundamental problem encountered by de Vignemont, Pitron,
and Alsmith concerns what seems to be our close interaction with the world in our
everyday life, the sense of affordances, situatedness, and moods. While the orthodox
neurocognitive approach to body representation leaves the world too far away, for
Morris, this does not constitute a problem because he regards body schema itself as of
space. Note that the role which Morris’ theoretical approach accords to body schema
leaves little room for body image.
In the third chapter ‘Body schema dynamics in Merleau-​Ponty’, Jan Halák explores
the interaction between body schema and body image, drawing on the notes made by
Merleau-​Ponty (2011) for his 1953 lectures known as The Sensible World and the World
of Expression. Halák describes the relations between the two in terms of figure (body
image) and ground (body schema). Like Morris, Halák also supports a strong em-
bodied non-​representational approach; yet he nevertheless leaves a place in his theory
Introduction xxiii
for the body image. Note that both Morris and Halák reject the concept of body image–​
body schema double dissociation.
Interestingly, de Vignemont, Pitron, and Alsmith, on the one hand, and Halák
and Morris, on the other, would agree that body schema should be treated in terms
of affordances. Yet, whereas the former adopt a strong representational approach, the
latter argue that according to Merleau-​Ponty, there is no need for representations,
seemingly making many of the problems dealt with by de Vignemont, Pitron, and
Alsmith non-​issues. For instance, while de Vignemont, Pitron, and Alsmith focus on
local representations of body parts, Merleau-​Ponty considers the body a holistic system
from the outset. Note, however, that if we choose to adopt the holistic approach, we may
find it difficult to explain the strong link between localized brain damage and the dys-
function of body parts, and more generally different kinds of neuropathologies. Clearly
the approach advanced by de Vignemont, Pitron, and Alsmith facilitates this sort of
explanation.
In the fourth chapter ‘A radical phenomenology of the body’, Helena De Preester
recognizes these problems and seeks to develop a theory that considers the strengths
and weaknesses of both sides, that is, combining the body-​in-​the-​brain approach with
the body-​in-​the-​world approach. To do so, she embraces Michel Henry’s radical phe-
nomenology of the body. De Preester confronts what seems to be one of the most chal-
lenging problems faced by the representational approach—​explaining the unity of
the moving body. As we saw, de Vignemont, Pitron, and Alsmith are fully aware that
embracing their own approach raises the following question: How does one experience
and act with one’s body as an integrated whole rather than a collection of parts? De Preester
tries to avoid this problem. She argues that the definition of body schema offered by
Gallagher and Cole (1995) fails to solve this puzzle, and that as long as the body schema
remains embedded in proprioception, the problem of the unity of the moving body re-
mains unsolved. From this perspective, the Merleau-​Pontyian approach, as presented
by both Morris and Halák, is not sufficiently radical. By divorcing proprioception from
body schema, Henry’s work allows her to confront this issue. According to Henry, body
schema is responsible for unity of the transcendent body. The origin of this unity lies in
the subjective body, which, in turn, is characterized by movement in the sense of ori-
ginal, immediate knowledge of movement. De Preester tries to bridge between Henry’s
radical phenomenology of the body and current cognitive sciences by suggesting that,
at least to some extent, we can think about the subjective body in terms of offline long-​
term body representations.
In the fifth chapter ‘Body schema and body image in motor learning’, Shogo Tanaka
endeavours to provide a detailed account of the nature of relations between body
schema and body image and to take the body schema–​body image distinction a step fur-
ther. Tanaka argues that motor learning demands a close dialogue between body image
and body schema. Indeed, although the authors of the previous chapters in this volume
ascribe to opposing philosophical approaches (body-​in-​the-​brain versus body-​in-​the-​
world), they share a belief in the primacy of body schema over body image. Thus, they
all agree that compared with the body schema body image plays a minor role in our
xxiv Introduction
daily lives. Merleau-​Ponty seems to support this approach: ‘Ordinary experience shows
that, in imitating others, in learning to walk, in becoming familiar with an environment,
what occurs cannot be explained by the notion that there is first an intellectual act of
“knowing” rules, maps, or words and then a move to use them’ (1964, p. 96). Bearing
this in mind, Tanaka suggests that body image nonetheless plays a fundamental role in
most processes of motor learning; hence, any theory that seeks to explain what it is like
to be-​in-​the-​world should provide a detailed account of how body image is involved in
our everyday activities.
In the sixth chapter ‘Reimagining the body image’, Gallagher accepts the co-​
construction model (Pitron & de Vignemont, 2017), which posits a functional dis-
tinction, yet strong interaction, between body schema and body image. Indeed, if one
replaces the word ‘representation’ in the following sentence with ‘systems’, it seems that
de Vignemont, Pitron, and Alsmith would agree to some extent with Gallagher: ‘The
two types of body representations [systems] are thus functionally distinct, but their con-
struction is partly based on their interactions, which allow them to minimize discrep-
ancies between them as much as possible.’ In his chapter, Gallagher tries to respond to
several objections that have been voiced against the body image–​body schema distinc-
tion over the years. The main objection is as follows: ‘We should not take body schema
and body image to be disconnected systems, even if they are distinguishable.’ Indeed,
by reading the different chapters in the first part of this volume, it is difficult to find any
theoretical support for a strict or absolute double dissociation approach. Gallagher ad-
mits that he relies heavily on rare cases such as IW, yet he believes that: (a) the fact that
IW’s case is rare is not an argument against the body image–​body schema double dis-
sociation; and (b) even if we accept that the figure-​ground concepts describe the body
image–​body schema dialogue quite accurately in our everyday life, this does not under-
mine the possibility of double dissociation.
Reading the first part of this volume, the following question arises: Does the cur-
rent debate derive from our inability to define body schema and body image properly?
Accordingly, it is appropriate to close the first part with a historical perspective on the
current debate. In his chapter ‘The body in the German neurology of the early twen-
tieth century’, Andreas Kalckert examines the history of German neurology in the
early twentieth century, demonstrating that from the very outset, the concepts of body
schema and body image were not well defined. Kalckert closes his chapter with the
following observation: ‘Fortunately or unfortunately, these discussions resemble strik-
ingly the discussions we have today. We face unclear definitions, different interpret-
ations, now and a hundred years ago’ (Chapter 7, p. 112).
In the second part, ‘Brain, body, and self ’, we consider both body schema and
body image from the perspectives of related research fields, such as cognitive neuro-
science, experimental psychology, developmental science, phenomenology, and ro-
botics. Tool use is clearly one of the most important issues for our understanding of
body schema. Therefore, it is natural to open the second part of this volume with a
chapter by Daniele Romano and Angelo Maravita concerning the question of ‘Plasticity
and tool use in the body schema’. Romano and Maravita explore the process via which
Introduction xxv
tools become embodied. In general, when we learn to use a new tool, we develop a
new way of interacting with the surrounding space. This malleable relationship be-
tween our body and the surrounding environment is reflected in the plastic nature of
our brain. Within our brain, changes related to tool use are not limited to spatial pro-
cessing but are also linked to sensory-​motor information processing which in turn has
the potential to transform how we are embedded within the environment. Romano and
Maravita’s findings seem to fit perfectly with how Merleau-​Ponty (1964, p. 178) regards
body schema: ‘Our organs are no longer instruments; on the contrary, our instruments
are detachable organs.’ Indeed, our body lives as a system of knowing-​how within the
surrounding space and its sensory-​motor capacity and flexibly extend into this space
through tool use. Thus, body schema is itself of space.
In the second chapter ‘Triadic body representations in the human cerebral cortex and
peripheral nerves’, Noriaki Kanayama and Kentaro Hiromitsu explore how both body
schema and body image are represented in the brain. They reconsider how the entire
neural system, including peripheral nerves, constitutes body representation. Drawing
on Schwoebel and Coslett (2005), they reject the traditional dyadic taxonomy of body
schema and body image. Instead, they present a triadic taxonomy of body schema
(sensory-​motor representation of the body), body structural description (topological
representation of body parts and whole), and body semantics (lexical meanings of body
parts). Kanayama and Hiromitsu further propose that the neural basis of the new tri-
adic taxonomy lies in three information streams in the visual cortical areas: the ven-
tral stream corresponding to body semantics, the ventro-​dorsal stream corresponding
to body structural description, and the dorso-​dorsal stream corresponding to body
schema. Their proposal preserves the concept of traditional body schema, but the con-
cept of body image is now categorized into the topological-​perceptual aspect and the
lexical-​conceptual aspect. Here we notice that their proposal partially corresponds to
the taxonomy of the body image originally presented by Gallagher (2005), that is, body
percept, body affect, and body concept. Kanayama and Hiromitsu’s recategorization of
body image seems to focus on the difference between body percept and body concept.
Concerning the taxonomy of body representations, Matej Hoffmann tackles the
problem in a comprehensive manner from the perspective of robotics. In his chapter
‘Body models in humans, animals, and robots’, Hoffmann asks: How is the physical body
represented in animals, humans, and robots in terms of information processing? He pro-
poses to classify body representations by locating them on axes such as fixed versus
plastic; amodal versus modal; explicit versus implicit; centralized versus distributed;
and so on. Hoffmann argues that the human body is more centrally controlled in terms
of movement than invertebrates, such as the octopus, which have greater freedom in
peripheral movements. However, the same condition alters the human capacity for
conscious and dexterous manipulation of objects in a detailed manner, as is evident in
tool use. Although Hoffmann focuses on the fixed and amodal nature of body models
in robots, by contrast, this shows the plasticity and multimodality of human body rep-
resentations in the organic brain. According to Hoffmann, it is possible to say that hu-
mans inevitably represent the body in the brain, that is, the central nervous system
xxvi Introduction
that controls peripheral movements, but at the same time, this enables humans to con-
duct explicit and well-​controlled bodily interactions with the environment. Within
neurological-​anatomical conditions of the human body, we find the origin that consti-
tutes both body schema and body image. On the one hand, we obtain the capacity for
well-​controlled dexterous actions toward the environment, and on the other hand, we
also gain the capacity to consciously experience our own body by perceiving it expli-
citly. Curiously, even in a purely representational approach, the body must be as both
subject and object: ‘The body catches itself from the outside in the process of exercising
a knowledge function; it attempts to touch itself touching, it begins “a sort of reflec-
tion” ’ (Merleau-​Ponty, 2012, p. 95).
The human capacity to experience the body in an explicit manner initiates the possi-
bility of being as a self. In the fourth chapter ‘From implicit to explicit body awareness
in the first two years of life’, Philippe Rochat and Sara Valencia Botto explore the de-
velopmental trajectory between body schema and body image. Rochat and Botto dis-
cern the crucial difference between body schema and body image in the implicit versus
explicit axes of body awareness, attempting to find a developmental process from the
former to the latter. Unlike the previous two chapters, Rochat and Botto emphasize
the importance of the social environments in which infants manifest primordial self-​
consciousness through social emotions such as embarrassment, shame, and pride. In
the developmental contours, we first develop our embodied interactions with the sur-
rounding environment as manifestations of body schema, underpinning an implicit
body awareness separate from the outer environment. Subsequently, internalizing the
other’s evaluative gaze through embodied, as well as social, interactions, we become
conscious of our own body as body image, which can be defined as a primitive sense of
self. Note that according to their view, our sense of self is social from the very beginning.
In contrast to this emphasis on the social, in the fifth chapter ‘Cross-​referenced body
and action for the unified self ’, Shu Imaizumi, Tomohisa Asai, and Michiko Miyazaki
explore the origin of the sense of self within an individual’s bodily experiences.
According to their own experiments using the paradigm of the rubber hand illusion,
they depict a cross-​referential relation between ownership and agency—​the sense of
ownership of a fake hand induces movement of a real hand, and the movement of a
fake hand is accompanied by the sense of ownership. They further explore the idea that
the ownership–​agency interaction underpins self-​representation in cases of infants and
adults who have undergone limb amputation. The former develop a sense of self by
matching the proprioceptively perceived body and the visually perceived body, whereas
the latter experience the loss and restoration of bodily self-​representation through the
use of prostheses.
Whereas Imaizumi, Asai, and Miyazaki emphasize the role of movement in inte-
grating multimodal representations of the body, in the last chapter in Part II ‘Growing
up a self ’, Rosie Drysdale and Manos Tsakiris attempt to shed light on the sense of self
in its relation to interoceptive, as well as exteroceptive, body awareness. Although the
sensory interplay between interoception and exteroception is not yet fully understood,
by collecting scarce evidence in developmental science, they present a framework
Introduction xxvii
according to which we develop the sense of self from the inside-​out. Drysdale and
Tsakiris discern the social origins of interoceptive sensitivity, arguing that ‘a mother’s
physiological regulation during pregnancy is consequential for the foetus and its sur-
vival’ (Chapter 13, p. 218). As we saw, Rochat and Botto emphasize the social origin
of the sense of self, yet it seems that the sense of self in this case means explicit self-​
consciousness. In contrast, Imaizumi, Asai, and Miyazaki explore the sense of self that
is basically implicit and constituted by the senses of agency and body ownership, which,
in their view, are not necessarily social. Drysdale and Tsakiris further trace our sense
of self to the fundamental interoceptive sensitivity, for which they find social origins.
If so, they argue, then even in the process of forming the minimal and implicit sense of
self, the infant’s embodied social interactions with the caregiver are foundational. Their
view suggests two things: (a) we need to explicate the problem of self not only in terms
of body image, but also in terms of body schema; and (b) the sociality of body schema
and the minimal sense of self should be further examined in future research.
The third part ‘Disorders, anomalies, and therapies’ begins with Jonathan Cole’s
chapter ‘The embodied and social self ’. Cole returns to IW’s case, demonstrating: (a)
how conscious control at the body image level may only partially replace the deaffer-
ented body schema; and (b) in what sense body schema and body image can be con-
sidered, at least conceptually, two different systems. Cole develops these notions further
for the social sphere, arguing that others’ responses to one’s body are crucial in devel-
oping our body image and sense of self.
In the second chapter ‘Unilateral body neglect’, Yves Rossetti and Laurence Havé
demonstrate that body image disorders in neglect are not always accompanied by body
schema disorders. They argue that even if a clear definition of these two concepts can be
articulated, the clinical reality is far more complex, both (a) in terms of the existence of
a continuum between these two extremities of bodily manifestations of unilateral neg-
lect, and (b) in terms of the dialectic relationship between the two systems. In the third
chapter ‘Neural underpinnings of body image and body schema disturbances’, Jasmine
Ho and Bigna Lenggenhager continue this line of thought. Based on neural alterations
in various body-​related brain regions, they suggest that body schema and body image
are mutually dependent; hence it is problematic to make a clear categorization of most
disorders in terms of body schema and body image. It seems that both Rossetti and
Havé, as well as Ho and Lenggenhager, argue against the notion of double dissociation
between body schema and body image. To be more accurate, they accept the concep-
tual distinction and, to some extent, agree that body schema and body image can be
traced to neuronal mechanisms, yet they reject Paillard’s strong dichotomic approach
to body schema and body image.
The current debate should not, however, prevent us from discerning that the con-
cepts of body schema and body image can be useful in various applications. Indeed, in
her chapter ‘Body schema and body image disturbances in individuals with multiple
sclerosis’, Britt Normann shows that the concepts of body schema and body image can
deepen our understanding of individuals suffering from multiple sclerosis. Normann
demonstrates that embracing these concepts can improve our ability to treat patients. It
xxviii Introduction
seems that Cole, Rossetti and Laurence, and Ho and Lenggenhager agree on this point
at least: the concepts of body schema and body image allow us not only to improve
our understanding of subjective experience in various conditions, including disabilities
and disorders, but also to understand these phenomena in a way that has clinical rele-
vance for both therapists and patients.
In the fifth chapter ‘Body schema and pain’, Katsunori Miyahara challenges the con-
temporary theories of pain, which are rooted, according to Miyahara, in the Cartesian
tradition. Embracing the concepts of body schema and body image, he claims, enables
us to (a) get closer to the subjective experience of pain and (b) build a more consistent
theory of pain, which is also more loyal to our subjective experience. Pain, Miyahara
maintains, should be understood in terms of affordances, knowing-​how, and the
‘I-​can’/‘I cannot’.
The sixth chapter ‘Feeling of a presence and anomalous body perception’, written
by Masayuki Hara, Olaf Blanke, and Noriaki Kanayama, focuses on the phenomenon
known as ‘feeling of a presence’ (FoP)—​a strange sensation that another person is
nearby when, in fact, no other person is present. Hara, Blanke, and Kanayama trace
this phenomenon back to the phenomenology of Karl Jaspers regarding his notion of
leibhaftige Bewusstheit, which refers to the subjective feeling of another’s presence as
sometimes reported by patients suffering from schizophrenia. By comparing this with
other related research from the field of cognitive neuroscience, such as TMS study con-
cerning out-​of-​body experiences, they conclude that the temporo-​parietal junction
(TPJ) plays a key role in experiencing the FoP. They argue that whereas sensing the
presence of another person when there is no one there derives from one’s own disturbed
body image, the sense of another’s agency results from a disturbed body schema.
In the last chapter of part three ‘The body image–​body schema/​ownership–​agency
model for pathologies’, Aviya Ben David and Yochai Ataria present a model based on
the conceptual gap between body schema and body image, revealing how different
kinds of conditions, including body integrity identity disorder, schizophrenia, anor-
exia nervosa, and post-​traumatic stress disorder, can be explained as part of a unified
model. This model demonstrates the explanatory power of the double dissociation be-
tween body schema and body image. More specifically, it reveals how the sensorimotor
dimension, on the one hand, and the social sphere, on the other, are at work in our
everyday lives and in cases of different disabilities.

References
Athwal, B. S., Cole, J. D., Wolpert, D. M., Frith, C., & Frackowiak, R. S. J. (1999). The role of proprio-
ceptive feedback during movement: a PET study of a deafferented subject. NeuroImage, 9, 509.
Berlucchi, G. & Aglioti, S. M. (2010). The body in the brain revisited. Experimental Brain Research,
200(1), 25–​35. doi:10.1007/​s00221-​009-​1970-​7
Cole, J. (1995). Pride and a Daily Marathon. Cambridge, MA: MIT Press.
Cole, J. (2016). Losing Touch: A Man Without his Body. Oxford University Press.
Conrad, K. (1933). Das Körperschema. Eine kritische Studie und der Versuch einer Revision.
Zeitschrift für die Gesamte Neurologie und Psychiatrie, 147, 346–​369.
Introduction xxix
de Vignemont, F. (2018). Mind the Body. Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Dennett, D. (1991). Consciousness Explained. Boston, MA: Penguin.
Denny-​Brown, D., Meyer, J. S., & Horenstein, S. (1952). The significance of perceptual rivalry re-
sulting from parietal lesion . Brain, 75(4), 432–​471.
Descartes, R. (1637/​1996). Discourse on Method and Meditations of First Philosophy. (D. Weissman,
Ed.). New Haven, CT: Yale University Press.
Durt, C., Tewes, C., & Fuchs, T. (Eds.). (2017). Embodiment, Enaction, and Culture: Investigating the
Constitution of the Shared World. Cambridge, MA: MIT Press.
Fanon, F. (2008). Black Skin, White Masks. (C. L. Markmann, Trans.). London: Pluto Press.
Forget, R. & Lamarre, Y. (1987). Rapid elbow flexion in the absence of proprioceptive and cutaneous
feedback. Human Neurobiology, 6(1), 27–​37.
Gallagher, S. (2005). How the Body Shapes the Mind. Oxford: Clarendon Press.
Gallagher, S. & Cole, J. (1995). Body schema and body image in a deafferented subject. Journal of Mind
and Behavior, 16, 369–​390.
Hartmann, H. & Schilder, P. (1927). Körperinneres und Körperschema. Zeitschrift für die Gesamte
Neurologie und Psychiatrie, 109(1), 666–​675. doi:10.1007/​BF02870259
Head, H. & Holmes, G. (1911). Sensory disturbances from cerebral lesions. Brain, 34(2–​3), 102–​254.
Melzack, R. (1990). Phantom limbs and the concept of a neuromatrix. Trends in Neurosciences,
13(3), 88–​92.
Merleau-​Ponty, M. (1964). The Primacy of Perception (J. Edie, Ed.). Evanston, IL: Northwestern
University Press.
Merleau-​Ponty, M. (1968). The Visible and the Invisible . (C. Lefort, Ed., & A. Lingis, Trans.). Evanston,
IL: Northwestern University Press.
Merleau-Ponty, M. (2011). Le Monde Sensible et le Monde de l’Expression: Cours au Collège de France
Notes, 1953 (E. de Saint Aubert and S. Kristensen, eds.). Genève: MētisPresses.
Merleau-​Ponty, M. (2012). Phenomenology of Perception. (D. A. Landes, Trans.). London: Routledge.
Paillard, J. (1999). Body Schema and body image-​a double dissociation. Motor Control, Today and
Tomorrow, 197–​214.
Paillard, J. (2005). Vectorial versus configural encoding of body space. In H. De Preester & V.
Knockaert (eds.), Body Image and Body Sschema: Interdisciplinary Perspectives on the Body (Vol. 62,
pp. 89–​109). Amsterdam/​Philadelphia, PA: John Benjamins Publishing Company.
Penfield, W. & Rasmussen, T. T. (1950). The Cerebral Cortex of Man. New York, NY: Macmillan.
Pitron, V. & de Vignemont, F. (2017). Beyond differences between the body schema and the body
image: insights from body hallucinations. Consciousness and Cognition, 53, 115–​121. doi:10.1016/​
j.concog.2017.06.006.
Ramachandran, V. S. & Blakeslee, S. (1998). Phantoms in the Brain. New York, NY: Quill William
Morrow.
Schilder, P. (1923). Das Körperschema—​Ein Beitrag zur Lehre vom Bewusstsein des eigenen Körpers.
Berlin Heidelberg: Springer.
Schilder, P. (1934). The somato-​psyche in psychiatry and social psychology. Journal of Abnormal and
Social Psychology, 29(3), 314–​327. doi:10.1037/​h0075479.
Schilder, P. (1935). The Image and Appearance of the Human Body. Oxford: Kegan Paul.
Schwoebel, J. & Coslett, H. B. (2005). Evidence for multiple, distinct representations of the human
body. Journal of Cognitive Neuroscience, 17(4), 543–​553.
PART I
T HE OR ET ICA L
CL AR IF IC AT ION : B ODY S C H E M A
A N D B ODY I M AG E
1
What is the body schema?
Frédérique de Vignemont, Victor Pitron, and Adrian J. T. Alsmith

1.1 An action-​orientated representation

The body schema is commonly defined as the representation of a body for action
(e.g., Paillard, 1999; Dijkerman & de Haan, 2007; Gallagher, 1995; Vignemont, 2010;
Schwoebel & Coslett, 2005).1 But what do we mean exactly by that? Is it only that it
contributes to the planning and the control of bodily movements? If that is the case,
then there is actually nothing specific about this type of representation of the body.
Many states indeed can play such a causal role, including some very high-​level states.
Imagine, for instance, that you want to cut a cake into six equal slices. To do so, you can
exploit your mathematical knowledge that 360 degrees divided by 6 equals 60 degrees.
This knowledge can guide your hand while splitting the cake. Your ability to do maths
can thus play a role in guiding your action, but clearly, we want the body schema to
be more intimately connected to action. The crucial question is what makes the body
schema so special. One might believe that the theories of motor control should be able
to shed light on its nature, but they generally stay remarkably silent about the body
schema. Here we shall characterize in detail its relation to action by analysing the type
of information that it represents, the way this information is represented, and the func-
tion of this representation.
Let us start with a first provisional definition of the body schema:

The body schema represents bodily parameters that are useful for action planning and
control.

Clearly, intentional movement requires information about the properties of one’s


body—​but which properties exactly? Since action occurs on a very brief timescale, one
may believe that only short-​term properties are of direct relevance for guiding action.
For instance, one needs to know the precise posture of one’s limbs. However, to move
one’s arm, one needs to know its position at time t but also its size, which usually has
not changed for the last 10 years. For example, to switch on the light, you need to know
your starting position, but also the length of your arm in order to plan how far you

1 For a detailed discussion of the notion of body representation and its many controversies, see Alsmith (2019).

In brief, we take representations to be content-​bearing states of the central nervous system. We further assume
that body representations play the role of models that represent in virtue of their resemblance to the structure of
the body.

Frédérique de Vignemont, Victor Pitron, and Adrian J. T. Alsmith, What is the body schema? In: Body Schema and Body Image.
Edited by: Yochai Ataria, Shogo Tanaka, and Shaun Gallagher, Oxford University Press. © Oxford University Press 2021.
DOI: 10.1093/​oso/​9780198851721.003.0001
4 What is the body schema?
should stretch it. Hence, one needs knowledge about long-​term structural properties
of the body, including bodily configuration, bodily size, flexibility of the joints, and
muscle strength. It is thanks to the knowledge of these structural properties that one
does not attempt to move in biologically impossible or painful ways. It is also thanks
to that knowledge that one does not over-​or under-​reach when trying to get an object.
Now the problem with this definition is that one can be aware of these bodily prop-
erties independently of any intention to move. Imagine that you are lying in your bed
half-​asleep. You consciously experience your legs stretched on the cold sheet. Does this
postural sensation involve the body schema or not? Put it another way, does the body
schema play a role exclusively for action, or also for bodily awareness? If it has a dual
function, then one might wonder for what reason we actually give more emphasis to its
motor contribution than to its experiential contribution. Furthermore, we would not
be able to understand the fact that postural sensations do not always consciously ex-
press the way we act. In one study, for instance, after the vibration of the tendon of the
biceps, participants had the illusory experience that their arm was stretching, but when
asked to point to the position of their hand, their motor response remained immune to
the illusion and they pointed to the correct hand location, and not to the felt hand loca-
tion (Kammers et al., 2006). What this study, among others, reveals is that there are sev-
eral ways to represent bodily properties useful for action. It is thus insufficient to define
the body schema only in these terms. More is needed. One suggestion is that the body
schema encodes information about these properties in a specific format. The idea of a
format or code of mental representation is familiar in cognitive science, although there
is no consensus about what formats there are or how to individuate them. Some formats
are modality-​specific—​a visual format, a tactile format, and so forth. Another type of
format can be an amodal or purely conceptual. A further type of format, which is at the
core of our interest here, is the sensorimotor one. In brief, a sensorimotor content is a
content that can be directly exploited by the motor system. If we go back to our original
example of the mathematical belief, the mathematical result needs to be translated into
a different format for it to be usable to guide action. The transition to action is then in-
direct. By contrast, the motor intention to cut the cake represents the movements to
perform in sensorimotor terms and can thus be of immediate use for the motor system.
For the body schema to be in direct connection to action, it must thus be encoded in the
same format as the motor intention. We can then suggest this new definition:

The body schema represents in a sensorimotor format bodily parameters that are useful
for action planning and control.

Let us briefly elaborate on how the notion of format allows us to account for dissoci-
ations between bodily sensations and movements. The hypothesis is that there can be
distinct representations about the same properties (such as posture), but encoded in
different formats. One may, for instance, suggest that the body is encoded in three dif-
ferent codes: sensorimotor, visuo-​spatial, and linguistic (Schwoebel & Coslett, 2005).
The difference between the three formats can be well illustrated if we consider body
An action-orientated representation 5
metrics. Action requires fine-​grained spatial content. It thus seems a plausible hypoth-
esis that the sensorimotor content of the body schema is detailed and specific (the arm
as being 70.5 cm long, for instance—​though, obviously, in whatever unit that can be ex-
ploited by the motor system). By contrast, bodily experiences do not require such high
resolution and the visuo-​spatial content can be more approximate and sketchy (the arm
as being between 69 and 71 cm long, for instance). Finally, the linguistic content could
simply represent the fact that this is a relatively long arm.
One may wonder, however, if this new definition exhausts the specificities of the
body schema. In particular, in this definition, the link to action still remains rela-
tively remote insofar as the body schema remains causally inert. Its content seems to
be purely descriptive—​it simply gives information about the body, for instance where
my limbs are located. Describing how the body is not the same as prescribing how the
body should be. To see the difference, compare the following two mental states. I have
a visual experience of the blue sky. My visual content can be accurate or not, depending
on whether it matches the actual colour of the sky. It is then said to have a ‘mind-​to-​
world direction of fit’ (Anscombe, 1957)—​the content of the representation must fit
with the world to be true. Now I form the motor intention to grasp a bottle. My motor
intention issues commands to the skeletal muscles. Its directive content cannot be true
or false. Instead, it can be successful or not, depending on whether I actually grasp the
bottle. It has a ‘world-​to-​mind direction of fit’—​the world must be made to match the
content of the representation for it to be successful. For many, it is only when its content
is directive that a representation qualifies as action-​orientated because then only does
it tell us what to do (Grush, 2004; Millikan, 1995; Clark, 1998; Mandik, 2005). Now the
question is whether the content of the body schema is comparable to the visual con-
tent of the blue sky or to the motor content of the intention. If it were only descriptive,
as our earlier definition seems to imply, then the body schema would not be action-​
orientated—​a counterintuitive conclusion.
However, there may be a different interpretation of the body schema, according to
which it has not only a descriptive content, but also a directive content. As summarized
by Millikan (1995, p. 191):

The representation of a possibility for action is a directive representation. This is be-


cause it actually serves a proper function only if and when it is acted upon. There is no
reason to represent what can be done unless this sometimes effects its being done.

More specifically, in the now classic control-​theoretic approach to action, the motor
system uses two types of internal models: the inverse model and the forward model
(Wolpert et al., 2001). The inverse model has the role of computing the motor com-
mand needed to achieve the desired state, given the agent’s bodily postures and cap-
acities, as they are represented by the body schema. One may even say that the content
of the body schema is coercive—​it heavily constrains action planning, so that one
normally cannot help but use it to guide one’s bodily movements. In short, the body
schema makes you act in a certain way. In parallel with the inverse model is run the
6 What is the body schema?
forward model, which predicts what the action will be like, given the specific body that
executes the motor command, and allows anticipatory control of movements. Here
also, we argue, the body schema has a clear directive function. It represents the desired
posture and location. For it to be satisfied, the body must meet this posture and this
location. Hence, the direction of fit is world-​to-​mind—​the body must match its repre-
sentation, and if it does not match it, then the agent must update the motor command.
To conclude, the function of the body schema is dual—​it is both to describe the
body (at a level of spatial resolution and in a format appropriate for action) and to
guide action. This dual function is fulfilled if it provides an accurate representation
of the bodily parameters useful for action and if the motor system obeys it. The body
schema corresponds to what Millikan (1995) calls a pushmi-​pullyu representation.
Pushmi-​pullyu representations (hereafter PPRs) are governed by both truth and ac-
tivity guidance. Like Dr Doolittle’s mythical animal, PPRs face two directions—​they
have a mind-​to-​world and a world-​to-​mind direction of fit. The content of PPRs varies
as a direct function of a certain variation in some aspect of the environment that it
represents and directly guides behaviour directed toward this particular aspect of the
environment. PPRs need no inferential structure for them to have a relation to ac-
tion. There is no need to translate descriptive information into directive information.
It is constitutive of the content, which builds the command for certain behaviour into
the representations. As such, PPRs afford great economy in terms of response time
and cognitive effort. We can now propose the following final definition for the body
schema:

The body schema represents in a sensorimotor format bodily parameters that are useful
for action planning and control. Its function is both descriptive and coercive.

Now that we have a better understanding of the role that the body schema plays for
action, including the type of information that is represented, its format, and its func-
tion, it is important to acknowledge that there is not a unique representation that meets
this description.

1.2 Species of body schema

There is a sense in which the term ‘body schema’ is ambiguous, in that it functions
as a general term—​a term for the genus, if you will—​which groups together various
body representations which count as species of the body schema in virtue of satis-
fying the criteria outlined earlier. We have already distinguished between the repre-
sentation of short-​term properties such as bodily posture and the representation of
enduring properties such as body metrics. We have also discussed the roles of body
schematic processes in inverse and forward model-​based motor control. Those distinc-
tions apply independently of the type of action that one performs. We now want to pro-
pose that there is a further major distinction, which is, this time, context-​dependent—​a
Species of body schema 7
distinction between two species: the working body schema for positive affordances,
and the protective body schema for negative affordances (Vignemont, 2018).
Most research in cognitive neuroscience has restricted their investigation of the
body schema and, more generally, of action to bodily movements such as reaching,
grasping, or pointing. These movements allow us to act on the world, to explore it, and
to manipulate objects. From an evolutionary point of view, these are the movements
with the ultimate function of mostly to find food and eat it. But there is another class of
movements, possibly even more important, the function of which concerns a different
dimension of survival, namely self-​defence. These movements are sometimes summar-
ized with the famous three Fs: freeze, fight, and flight (Hediger, 1950). One should not
believe, however, that we engage in protective behaviour only when there are predators.
At any moment, we avoid obstacles on our path, we retrieve our foot from the burning
bathwater, and so forth. We can thus distinguish between these two fundamental func-
tions, to exploit the world and to protect oneself from the world.2 What we propose
is that to these two functions correspond two species of body schema, which we call
the working body schema and the protective body schema. Here are two important
implications of this functional distinction. First, the working body schema is centred
on the hands, whereas the protective body schema covers the whole body. Second, the
working body schema is highly malleable and can easily incorporate tools, whereas the
protective body schema is more stable, keeping track of the body to protect, which,
from a biological standpoint, consists of the body that nature gave us.
Let us first consider the working body schema. Its function is to reliably covary with
any bodily instrument that can act on the world and to guide these exploratory actions.
As a consequence, it does not represent the whole acting body homogeneously. It is
indeed with the hands that we mainly act on the world, whether it is to pick berries
and bring them to our mouth, to plant seeds, or to open doors and turn on the light.
We wash our hands more often than any other parts of our body, because they are the
parts of our body that interact the most with the world. We already know that the hands
are over-​represented, compared to the rest of the body, in the famous homunculus in
the primary somatosensory and motor cortex. Here, we suggest that the working body
schema, which is implemented at a later cortical stage, also represents the hands in
greater detail than other body parts because of their special significance for acting on
the world. But we also explore the world with tools. Tools extend our space of actions,
allowing us to act further away and more efficiently. They do so by extending the space
of our body, and more specifically our working body schema. Evidence for such em-
bodiment can be found in the following study (Cardinali et al., 2009). In this study,
participants repeatedly used a long mechanical grabber. When subsequently retested
while reaching to grasp with their hand alone, the kinematics of their movements
was significantly modified, as if their arm were longer than before using the grabber.

2 One might wonder whether there is not a risk of an infinite multiplications of motor functions, and thus of a

corresponding body schema. Our level of analysis, however, is at a higher functional level, based on a fundamental
distinction between negative and positive affordances.
8 What is the body schema?
Moreover, this effect of extension was generalized to other movements, such as pointing
on top of objects, although they were never performed with the grabber. Interestingly,
we constantly take, use, and drop tools of different sizes and shapes. This requires the
working body schema to adjust each time, showing an important plasticity.
Consider now the protective body schema. Its function is to reliably covary with the
body to protect and guide defensive actions. Although rarely mentioned in the litera-
ture on body representations, this notion of the body schema can be found in the litera-
ture on pain (Klein, 2015, p. 94):

There’s a body schema representation which is primarily concerned with protective


action: that is, one which maps out parts of our bodies that we should pay special at-
tention to, avoid using, keep from contacting things, and so on. Call this a defensive
representation of the body: it shows which parts of the body are in need of which sorts
of defence.

The relatively uncontroversial starting point is that survival involves preservation


of one’s body. This is why the brain evolved dedicated mechanisms specifically tuned
to the body and its immediate surroundings, which is in direct relation with the motor
system in order to protect the body. In particular, it has been found that the perceptual
system encodes in a specific way a spatial margin of safety around the body, also known
as the peripersonal space—​predators cannot approach this specific zone without
eliciting their prey-​specific defensive responses (Graziano, 2018). Peripersonal space
is anchored in various parts of one’s body, not only the hands, but also the head, the
torso, and the feet. If there is to be a key body part to protect, it is the head rather than
the hands. But the whole surface of the body is important and no matter where it hurts,
we are able to react in the appropriate way. What is important to realize, however, is
that protective behaviours are not necessarily directed toward one’s biological body;
they are directed toward the body that one takes oneself to have, namely the body as it
is represented in the protective body schema. If the protective body schema is impaired
or manipulated, then one can fail to protect part of one’s own body (Romano et al.,
2014) or start protecting a rubber hand (Ehrsson et al., 2007). Nonetheless, situations
such as these are exceptional and most of the time the protective body schema fulfils
its function and targets exclusively one’s own biological body. In particular, it normally
does not integrate the tools that we use in everyday life. We do not feel pain in the fork
that just fell on the floor. If we protected tools as we protect our limbs, we would not be
able to use them as extensively as we do and the range of our actions would be far more
limited—​we could no longer stoke the hot embers of a fire or stir a pot of boiling soup
(Povinelli et al., 2010). This claim does not contradict the fact that we protect tools and
react if they are under threat (Rossetti et al., 2015). We actually need to keep them in
good shape in order to be able to use them. Nonetheless, their significance is not of the
same kind as the evolutionary significance of our own body and it is likely that their
protection is subserved by different mechanisms. The lack of tool embodiment at the
level of the protective body schema is actually important because it prevents us from
Local and global body schemata 9
losing track of our biological body—​thanks to the unaltered protective body schema,
we keep a default body representation that can be used to recalibrate the working body
schema once we drop the tools.
One may reply that we can use tools such as knives to defend ourselves. This shows
only that protective behaviours can recruit the working body schema, in addition to the
protective body schema, but they play distinct roles, one to actively interfere with the
threat and the other to fix what is to be protected. More generally, although it is nomo-
logically possible for them to be dissociated, the two types of body schema generally
work hand in hand. While reaching for the salt on the table, you also avoid bumping
into the bottle of wine. While cutting a carrot, you also pay attention to not cutting your
finger. And so forth.

1.3 Local and global body schemata

There may be another distinction to draw within the body schema, this time in terms
of spatial scale. Jacques Paillard (1982) investigated the notion of body schema perhaps
more than anybody else. Consider the following remark of his (p. 66, translation FV):

It would thus seem that the ‘body schema’ could be fragmented into action subsystems
corresponding to the motor instruments involved in the specification of the structure
of the paths of considered visuomotor sub-​spaces.

Paillard introduces the notion of a visuomotor sub-​space (‘sous-​espace’) as a means


to characterize the content of representational processes underlying visuomotor adap-
tation effects across body parts. A natural corollary to Paillard’s notion of a sub-​space
is that of a high-​order representation (a ‘super-​espace’; cf. Paillard, 1982, p. 67) which
serves to coordinate its subordinate elements. This broadly reflects an intuitive explan-
andum phenomenon. Try, for instance, using a hand to touch your foot while using
the other to touch your face. To perform this task, is it sufficient to have local body
schemata that represent individual body parts, and if so, what is the best characteriza-
tion of these local body schemata? Or do we also need a global body schema, the func-
tion of which would be to structure these local representations? In Paillard’s terms, does
action require a high-​order representation (a ‘super-​espace’, cf. Paillard, 1982, p. 67) to
coordinate its subordinate elements?
Typically, when an agent acts with its body, it cannot act with it as a mere collection
of parts. Rather it must act with it as a structure, a structure of the kind that Casati and
Varzi (1999) refer to as a mereotopological structure, a whole composed of interlocked
parts, or what we will more simply refer to as an integrated whole. As an integrated
whole, body parts are interlocked, bearing a mutually constraining connection to one
another, constraining bodily movement due to the nature of their connection. We can
bring the point out by considering how different our capacity for action would be if our
bodies did not have this structure. We can try and imagine a creature, call her Scatty,
10 What is the body schema?
whose parts comprise a disintegrated whole. Scatty’s body parts do not form a whole in
the same sense that we would say the front and back of a sphere form a whole (Madden,
2015), but rather in the sense that the top and bottom of a bikini are part of the same bi-
kini. Imagine, for instance, that Scatty’s body consists only of two detached hands cap-
able of independent movement, like the character Thing from the The Adamms Family,
but in duplicate. Scatty could do much that normally embodied subjects could not. She
could rotate each of her parts 360° in a single plane in opposite directions, or simul-
taneously grab an elephant’s trunk and tail. By contrast, in our case, bodily actions are
spatiotemporally constrained by the body itself as an integrated whole—​when we move
a body part, it will take as long as it does and involve the physical displacements it does,
because that part is a part of an integrated whole (Latash, 2008).
A difficult question is how the parts of this integrated whole are individuated. Under
one description, the human body is a physical object. And just like any other such ob-
ject, it can be divided in any of an infinite number of ways we can imagine. However,
not just any manner of division will be appropriate in specifying potential objects of
body schema. Our guiding principle is that the body must be divided into parts in a
manner that retains a conceptual priority of the whole, such that representing said
parts may yield coordinated bodily action. On this analysis, the whole corresponds
to a causally interlocked structure in which physical forces are distributed in virtue
of causal connections such as hinging, overlapping musculature, connective tissue,
etc. Accordingly, the body is divided into parts, which correspond to the causally ef-
ficacious elements of a bodily movement. This meets our guiding principle insofar as
this manner of division retains a conceptual priority of the whole. This can be seen by
contrasting the parts with the notion of a component (Casati & Varzi, 1999, p. 32; see
also Sanford, 1993, pp. 221–​223). Components are distinguishable such that each can
be discerned, independently of its combination with other parts. But parts of the body
as a causal unity can only be discerned by their mutual causal relations to other parts
and the body as a whole.
One worry here is that this type of causal analysis of the body does not yield clear
enough part–​whole distinctions, as such distinctions seem to be a matter of emphasis.
An analysis might emphasize causal unity to such a degree that the only object it li-
censes is the single dynamic unity; or it might emphasize the plurality of causally effica-
cious elements to such a degree that it licenses every such element as an object of body
schematic representation. Neither option seems appropriate. The issue here, however,
is really one of scale. The two options described are just the two extremes of various
scales at which the causal structure of the body might be analysed. The appropriate
scale for our purpose is an intermediate scale—​beneath the highest-​level analysis at
which there is no division at all, but above lower-​level analyses concerning, for example,
individual muscles and their connection across fascial planes and joints. At this inter-
mediate scale, low-​level elements are brought together as functional units. Functional
units (or synergies) provide a way of drastically minimizing the body’s multiple degrees
of freedom (Latash, 2008; Turvey & Fonseca, 2014). These emerge in development as
infants learn the intrinsic dynamics of their particular body (Thelen & Smith, 1994).
Local and global body schemata 11
New functional units can emerge in adulthood when an individual learns to manipu-
late low-​level elements in the service of learning a new skill, e.g., by moving through
a stage at which joints are held rigid and then gradually unfrozen as they come to be
coordinated as a single unit (Anderson & Sidaway, 1994; Southard & Higgens, 1987).
These functional units may correspond to conventional body part names in English or
other linguistic partonomies, but they need not do so.
This might, in turn, raise the worry that whatever is gained through a more gen-
eral causal analysis comes at the cost of determining boundaries between parts. But
this worry is misplaced. First, hinges are a crucial kind of causal connection and these
may serve to specify boundaries between causally interacting parts as a feature of the
causal analysis (Bermúdez, 1998). Second, it is worth noting that even though we may
mark boundaries within the structure of the body, none of these are bona fide bound-
aries, i.e., closed continuous boundaries, such as might be provided by enveloping skin.
Rather, these are what Smith and Varzi (2000) refer to as fiat boundaries. Fiat bound-
aries, and their corresponding objects, are of the mind’s creation, reified in their psy-
chological significance, and they may be shared between connected objects, making
their demarcation semantically vague. Thus, although the analysis posits a distinction
between functional units in causal interaction, for each functional unit posited, there
may be a range of equally plausible candidates of very slightly differing spatial extent.
Though only one of these is, in fact, that which plays the relevant causal role, the ana-
lysis per se does not distinguish it from other candidates. But this is just what we would
expect on analysis of the body’s division that prioritizes the whole. The analysis pro-
duces a structure composed of continuous, interlocked objects, rather than a structure
composed of discontinuous, discrete objects.
On this analysis of body parts, and given their corresponding representations, one
may wonder whether there is any need for positing a representation of the body as
an integrated whole. This is an issue that has undergone very little explicit investiga-
tion, but a reasonable reflection on influential accounts in light of the remarks above
suggests the following rationale (O’Shaughnessy, 1980; Vignemont, 2018). Adequate
representation of body parts for the control action requires local body schemata to
be coordinated in a manner that is sensitive to each body part’s interlocking within
the whole. Integration of structural information about all parts of the body in a global
body schema would achieve this—​for it would serve as a constraint or regulatory prin-
ciple, modifying the content of local body schemata in a manner that is sensitive to the
interlocking between body parts. Thus, a set of local body schemata would be coordin-
ated according to a specific set of relations in virtue of a global body schema.
However, it remains an open issue of whether an account of even this more refined
explanandum actually requires positing a global body schema at all (Alsmith, 2019). For
given the interlocked nature of the body itself and the representation of its parts, an ex-
planation of the structure of bodily action arguably need not appeal to a global body
schema. The purpose of such a representation, as suggested above, would be to encode
structural information about the relations between parts of the body, which can then
serve to constrain local body schemata. But it is not clear why this particular explanatory
12 What is the body schema?
role could not be served by the body itself, consisting, as it does, of interlocked parts.
That is, rather than being constrained by an overarching global body schema encoding
relations between body parts, local body schemata might be constrained by the patterns
of sensory feedback reflecting relations between body parts themselves.
Note, moreover, that there is no sensory signal dedicated to the body as an integrated
whole. There is only sensory feedback concerning body parts. Yet it is clear that this
feedback affects motor coordination. For instance, Shadmehr and Mussa-​Ivaldi (1994)
showed that motor adaptation—​adaptation to changes in the dynamics involved in
motor tasks—​generalized across tasks which were structurally similar in terms of joint
torques and trajectories. If local body schemata are themselves adaptive, it becomes
redundant to appeal to a global body schema in an account of the particular way in
which they are coordinated. The question of why a global body schema encodes one
set of relations, rather than another, must be answered by recourse to the local body
schema itself imparting the structure of the body as an integrated whole. It is not clear
then why we should appeal to the former higher-​order representation in the first place.
Any structure in that representation that would enable its supposed coordinative func-
tion would be due to the structure transferred through representations it is supposed to
coordinate.

1.4 Towards a Bayesian model of the body schema

The question now arises—​how are all these representational processes constructed in
the brain? The computational processing underlying the generation of a body schema
is still poorly understood. Since it is still relatively controversial whether there are in-
nate body representations, one can question when they start developing. Is it as early
as in utero, during which spontaneous motor activity can lead to the differentiation of
the body into parts at the cortical level, or later when more complex behaviours emerge
(Bremner, 2017)? Here we shall not answer this question but rather highlight the chal-
lenges that any account of the generation of a body schema must meet and the con-
straints that it must respect. Appealing to the Bayesian model of brain functioning, we
shall then sketch the first outlines of a computational model.
The main challenge is that a body schema is not an immutable form of representa-
tion, encoded once and for all. The construction of a body schema should not be con-
ceived as set in stone. Rather it is continuously renewed in order to adapt to structural
and contextual changes of the body. It should thus be seen as a dynamic process. Not
only do short-​term properties, such as bodily posture, keep changing, but enduring
properties, such as joint flexibility, muscle strength, weight, and size, also vary across
time. Clearly, our hands are not the same when we are 10, 20, or 80 years of age. This
is particularly true in infancy, when the growth process engages profound structural
bodily changes, but it is also true during pregnancy, for instance, or with the deteri-
oration of the body in later life or ill-​health. As noted earlier, this is also specifically
true for the working body schema each time we use and then discard a tool. How is
Towards a Bayesian model of the body schema 13
this ever-​running process of adaptation and refinement of the body schema encoded?
A model of the underpinnings of a body schema should describe not only how it is gen-
erated at the beginning, but also how this construction process can adapt in time.
One way to address this issue is to consider the sensory determinants of a body
schema. Consider the act of peeling a fig. In addition to information about the location
and the shape of the fruit, one needs information about: (i) the posture of the fingers
of the hand holding it; (ii) the posture of the hand holding the knife; (iii) the relative
location of the two hands; (iv) the size of the various segments of the upper limbs; and
(v) the size of the knife. To this aim, several sensory inputs can be involved. It is optimal
to combine visual information with proprioceptive and tactile information in order to
achieve the most reliable estimates of the bodily parameters (van Beers et al., 1999).
Here it is important to understand that the sensorimotor format, which is classically
opposed to the visuo-​spatial format, does not prevent vision from playing an essen-
tial role for the body schema. We act on the world that we primarily see and the dorsal
pathway of visual processing directly feeds the motor system (Milner & Goodale,
1995). Vision is important for the information that it delivers not only on the world
on which we act, but also on the body that acts on it. Indeed, it offers more reliable in-
formation about spatial properties than touch and proprioception, and it often dom-
inates over them when in conflict (Welch & Warren, 1980). The interaction between
the senses thus improves the likelihood of detecting, localizing, and identifying bodily
events and properties, and any viable body schema must emerge from such a process of
multisensory integration.
The multisensory nature of the body schema has been already emphasized by sev-
eral authors (Vignemont, 2018; Wong, 2014). However, the computations underlying
how the body schema is built up out of several distinct sensory signals remain unclear.
At least two sets of important issues arise. The first problem is known in the binding
literature as the parsing problem—​how to identify and select only the relevant sensory
signals to bind together. Typically, one should not integrate proprioceptive information
about one’s hand with visual information about someone else’s hand. Spatiotemporal
congruency is part of the answer, but it cannot suffice. Let us imagine that the patient
feels her phantom hand to be at a location where there is a book. Nonetheless, seeing the
book does not cancel the experience of the phantom hand. One explanation why vision
does not erase the phantom hand is that the perceptual system does not combine the
visual information about the book with the proprioceptive information about the hand,
despite the fact that they are experienced at the same location. Tsakiris (2010) thus sug-
gests the existence of a body template or model, which guarantees that the information
bound together is about the body. The difficulty with this reply is that multisensory
integration also occurs for tools that have been incorporated into a body schema and
tools hardly meet the constraints of a body template. Furthermore, a common location
does not seem to be a necessary condition. Let us consider this time prism adaptation.
When wearing prisms, visual information about the location of one’s hand is in conflict
with proprioceptive information. Yet, they are integrated together despite the spatial
discrepancy.
14 What is the body schema?
The second set of issues arises once the relevant information is selected. How are
the relevant sensory signals integrated together to form a coherent body schema? For
one thing, the temporal encoding of sensory information changes across different sen-
sory modalities. Furthermore, each sensory modality is encoded in its own format
and, in particular, in its own spatial frame (e.g., eye-​centred vision, head-​centred au-
dition, skin-​centred touch). Consequently, the brain cannot just combine the conver-
ging sensory inputs. Rather, the perceptual system needs to go beyond the differences
between sensory formats and spatial frames of reference. Finally, sensory cues are not
given the same weight in the integration process. Consider again the example of the
fig peeler. When in the dark, visual information is downgraded while somatosensory
information is upgraded. Put the light on and the grading of sensory cues changes.
The question is: how is this order of priority settled and how is it adapted to ongoing
circumstances?
The Bayesian model has been gaining success to account for a wide range of cogni-
tive processes. In brief, it postulates that the process underlying the construction of
mental representations stems from the ability of the brain to compute probabilistic stat-
istics. At the core of the model lies the idea that the brain computes the most probable
output, given all available cues. Each time a representation is constructed, the brain
settles one set of rules integrating all relevant cues. Regarding body representations,
two kinds of information are available. On the one hand, sensory signals from distinct
modalities are integrated. On the other, previous attempts at building body representa-
tions serve as priors for future ones, i.e., ongoing body representations are constructed
in light of past body representations. The weight of those ‘priors’ is adjusted, depending
on the correspondence between present and past circumstances. If the present bodily
situation is new, sensory cues will be favoured since past experiences cannot reliably
inform about the current situation, and vice versa. In addition to past experiences,
priors also include other types of mental representations. For example, species of body
schema can serve as priors for each other’s construct—​even if, with distinct functions,
the working and the protective body schema refer to the same body. One can therefore
postulate that they are not constructed separately, but that one can inform about how
the other is built up. Along the same lines, we recently proposed that the body schema
can work as a prior for the construction of the body image (Pitron & Vignemont, 2017;
Pitron et al., 2018). Arguably, sensory processing evolved, in the first place, not to pro-
vide conscious perceptual experiences, but to provide sensory control of movements.
It was only later in evolution with the emergence of more and more complex behav-
iours that sensory processing evolved to provide internal models of the world, stored in
memory and accessible to other cognitive systems. If something like this story is true,
then the body schema is evolutionarily prior to the body image. From a developmental
perspective too, it is classically assumed that the body schema has a greater influence
on the body image than the other way around. It thus seems to indicate a predomin-
ance of the body schema over the body image. However, the body schema is only one
prior, among others, on which the body image is built, which also takes into account
social priors, affective priors, and so forth. The body image is thus not a mere copy of
Another random document with
no related content on Scribd:
Hoe een jong Warrau-indiaantje uit de handen der Caraïben
24.ontkwam.[15]
Sluit25.
de oogen en doe een wensch.
De gelukspot.
26.
De honigbij
27. en de zoete drank.
De piaiman
28. en de stinkvogels.
Hoe29.het ongeluk over de menschen kwam, of De
geschiedenis van Macanoura en Anoeannaïtoe.
De kolibri,
30. die tabak brengt aan den eersten piaiman.
Het 31.
ontstaan der vrouwen-stammen.
Het 32.
gebroken ei.
De geest
33. van den pasgeborene.
De huid
34. van den Reuzenslang of Hoe de vogels hun
tegenwoordig gevederte kregen.
Een35.waarschuwing aan de vrouwen.
Hoe36.een man van zijn luiheid genezen werd.
De zwarte
37. tijger, Wau-oeta en de gebroken pijl.
De legende
38. van Letterhoutstomp.
De legende
39. van Arimoribo en Jorobodie.
Uitdrijving
40. van een priester uit den Indiaanschen hemel.
Uitdrijving
41. van Indianen uit den Hemel der Paters.
Bezoek
42. van Caraïben aan Macoesi-land.
Legende
43. van Paramaribo.
Legende
44. van Post-Sommelsdijk.
Einde
45.van den Indiaanschen broederoorlog.
De groote
46. bloedzuigende vleermuis.
Legende
47. van Mapajawari of De uitroeiing der
menscheneters.

Migratie-legende
48. der Creek-Indianen van Georgia.

Het verhalen van de avonturen hunner Goden of Nationale Helden


behoort bij alle Indianen stammen van oudsher tot de eerste
wederkeerende plichten, die tegenover het nageslacht trouw moeten
worden nagekomen. [16]

In Noord Amerika werden daarvoor de lange winteravonden gebruikt,


en de verteller wist dan meestal door zijn bijzonder talent tranen en
lachbuien bij het jonge volk te wekken en de harten der krijgers van het
heilige vuur te doen doordringen, vooral wanneer het noodzakelijk
geacht werd, op het oorlogspad te gaan.

Hoewel deze tijden sedert de verspreiding der blanken over hunne


woongebieden voorbij zijn, wordt toch nog van hunne mythische
Helden en Goden gaarne verteld. In het leven van de oorspronkelijke
menschheid is er misschien niets, wat zoozeer op een poëtisch
aangelegd gemoed werkt als zich een vertelavond in een Indiaansche
hut voor te stellen, wanneer de oude wijze man in zijn eenvoudige,
onopgesmukte taal van een der Nationale Helden vertelt, die den
Zonnegod overwon en de seizoenen en de dagen in het leven riep.

Zoowel de Noord- als de Zuid-Amerikaansche Indianen bezitten tal van


verhalen, waarin mythische Helden als hoofdpersonen optreden. Uit
den lijvigen bundel, die Walter E. Roth (R.) in het licht heeft gegeven
en die, uit de drie Guyana’s afkomstig, voor het meerendeel door hem
ter plaatse zijn opgeteekend, kies ik in de eerste plaats:

De Geschiedenis van Haboeri (No. 1), een der mythische helden der
Warraus, die door hen den „vader der uitvindingen” wordt genoemd.
Aan dezen cultuurheld dankt de Warrau zijn zoo voortreffelijke
vaartuigen (korjalen), waarom hij hem in dit verhaal eert. Behalve dat
wij hier ook reeds met willekeurige transformaties van menschen in
dieren en omgekeerd kennis maken, en er de herhaaldelijk in hunne
vertellingen voorkomende verklaring van de eigenschappen van
diersoorten in aantreffen, wordt er ook van een der vele bij
verschillende stammen heerschende meeningen omtrent den
oorsprong van het menschdom in gewag gemaakt. [17]
Hier wordt deze n.l. op de aarde gedacht, en daar de Indianen in het
algemeen zich geen ontstaan kunnen denken uit iets, wat te voren niet
bestond, zoo gelooft de Warrau, dat de mensch, of liever de eerste
voorvader van zijn stam, hetzij uit verschillende dieren, hetzij uit een of
andere plant (in No. 1) of ook wel uit rotsen, steenen of rivieren is te
voorschijn gekomen.

De Caraïben daarentegen nemen aan, dat de mensch uit de lucht is


neêrgedaald. Het verhaal, dat wij in No. 2 geven en uit Engelsch
Guyana afkomstig is, behoort tot de z.g. mythencyclus der Caraïben,
die zich scherp onderscheidt van die der Arowakken. Dit verhaal is niet
alleen een der vele voorbeelden in de Indiaansche folklore, waarin
dieren als brengers van cultuurplanten worden geschetst, maar het
stelt ook de waarheid in het licht, die, hoeveel minder ook van
toepassing op de Indianen-maatschappij, hier toch ook haar intrede
schijnt te hebben gedaan (onder den invloed der blanken?) dat
„ondank ’s werelds loon is”.

Hoe een zelfde mythe, met grootere of kleinere wijzigingen, bij


verschillende stammen wederkeert, mag uit No. 3 blijken, waarin wij de
zelfde mythe uit den mond van een Warrau-Indiaan weêrgeven.

Wanneer, zooals den lezer bij de kennisname van dit en andere


Indiaansche verhalen zal opvallen, meermalen gesproken wordt van
„v o g e l s en d i e r e n ”, dan komt dit voort uit het geloof aan den
oorsprong van de menschen in de lucht, waar zij nog geen andere
dieren kenden dan vogels.

Ook in de mythen, die het ontstaan van het menschdom op de aarde


laten plaats vinden, en waartoe de cyclus der Arowakken behoort,
vinden wij nergens aanduidingen van een geloof uit niets, noch
spontaan, noch door bemiddeling van den Grooten Geest.

De Arowakken-cyclus heeft als leidend kenmerk het ontstaan van alle


levende wezens uit een hol in den grond, [18]dat ook wel eens in de
gedaante van een mensch, n.l. als een steenen vrouw wordt
voorgesteld.

In verband met de later te bespreken legenden, die op


volksverhuizingen (migraties) betrekking hebben, is het de aandacht
waard, dat in de scheppingsmythen van vele Indianen o.a. van de
Navajoes en de Algonkins van Noord-Amerika, het bedoelde hol steeds
in het Westen wordt gedacht, terwijl het niet minder treft, in bedoelde
mythen het voorval met de dikke vrouw (zie No. 2 en 3) terug te vinden,
die ook daar de oorzaak er van was, dat slechts een deel der
menschen het aardoppervlak bereikte. Bij bovengenoemde stammen
braken door de zwaarte der vrouw de zeer lange wortels af, die in het
gat van den aardbodem groeiden, zoodat een aantal menschen weder
in het hol terugvielen. Ook in de Migratie-legende van de Creek-
Indianen van Georgia, die ik als bijvoegsel onder No. 48 aan dezen
bundel heb toegevoegd, wordt van het ontstaan hunner voorvaderen
uit een hol onder den grond verteld.

Bij talrijke stammen heerscht het geloof, in hunne mythen uitgedrukt,


dat het menschdom uit verschillende dieren, planten, rotsen, steenen
en rivieren ontstaan is.

De volgende mythe van dezen bundel (No. 4), getiteld: „De oorsprong
der Caraïben”, doet de menschen uit dieren geboren worden. Zij schijnt
van de Warraus afkomstig te zijn, die haar naar de Caraïben hebben
overgebracht. Hier treffen wij dus het omgekeerde aan ten opzichte van
de mythe, die het menschdom buiten de aarde ontstaan denkt. Voor de
lezers, voor welke deze bundel bestemd is, geven wij de voorkeur aan
de Caraïbische lezing.

Sommige stammen leiden het menschdom af, hetzij van een


Mythischen Levensboom (zie blz. 20), hetzij [19]van bepaalde boomen,
bijv. de Zijdekatoenboom of de Kankantrie* en de Itapalm*. Volgens de
Akawai- en Macoesi-stammen van Engelsch Guyana moet er een
boom geweest zijn, waarin de Groote Geest, Makoenaima,
omhooggeklommen is en met zijn steenen bijl stukken hout heeft
afgeslagen, die in menschen en verschillende dieren veranderd zijn. Bij
de Arowakken wordt bepaaldelijk de kankantrie als de oorsprong van
menschen en dieren aangewezen. Ook bij hen zou Makoenaima
stukken van takken en van den bast van dezen boom in de lucht, het
water en op het land geworpen hebben en daaruit zouden dieren en
ook mannen en vrouwen zijn voortgekomen.

De Maipoeres, een nu uitgestorven stam aan de Boven-Orinoco,


geloofden volgens Von Humboldt, dat in oude tijden de geheele
aarde onder water geraakt is, dat er een groote vloed* is geweest en
dat slechts één man en één vrouw zich gered hebben op den top van
den berg Tamanacoe; dat het paar, wanhopig over het verlies hunner
verwanten en vrienden, om den berg heenwandelend, plotseling een
stem hoorde, die den raad gaf, vruchten van den Itapalm* achter zich
over het hoofd te werpen en dat, toen het dien raad opvolgde, uit de
vruchten, die de man wierp, mannen voortkwamen, en uit die der vrouw
vrouwen ontstonden.

Ook een ontstaan uit steenen vinden wij bij meerdere


Indianenstammen als mythe verhaald. Bij de Makoesi-Indianen van
Engelsch Guyana komt de traditie voor, dat Makoenaima een
watervloed over de aarde zond en dat slechts één man zich heeft
weten te redden, die daarna steenen achter zich wierp en dat op deze
wijze de aarde weêr bevolkt werd. Deze traditie is hierom merkwaardig,
omdat zij ook bij de Oude Grieken wordt aangetroffen. Bij hen was het
Deucalion, die steenen achter zich wierp. [20]

In No. 5 van dezen bundel, getiteld: „Hoe de Caraïben gekweekte


planten leerden kennen”, vinden wij een der vele voorstellingen
geschetst van de wijze, waarop het menschdom zijne cultuurgewassen
verkreeg. Deze zijn volgens de Caraïben van een wonderboom
gekomen, waarop zij groeiden, en terwijl het in No. 2 de Agoeti* was,
die de menschen in het bezit van de maïs stelde, is het hier de
Buniavogel*, een giersoort, die hen zelfs alles omtrent de
cultuurplanten heeft medegedeeld.

Bij vele Indianenstammen, ook van Guyana, treft men sporen aan van
een geloof aan een voortbestaan van het lichaam en de daarin
huizende geesten. Zoo vertelt de Nederlandsche onderzoekingsreiziger
C. H. de Goeje (G.), dat een Ojana-vrouw hem vroeg, als hij terug
mocht komen, voor haar een teremopüillatop (hetgeen beteekent een
werktuig, dat een eeuwig leven kan bezorgen) te willen meêbrengen,
opdat haar zoontje met het eeuwige leven gezegend zou worden.

Andere ontwikkelingstrappen van dit geloof aan een onsterfelijk


lichaam treffen wij in verschillende mythen aan, die vertellen van het
afwerpen der huid. De Indiaan gelooft, dat wie van huid verandert, het
eeuwige leven heeft. „Toen Amalivaca* een tijdlang onder de
Tamanacas* had geleefd, nam hij zijn korjaal, om de overzijde van het
water, van waar hij was gekomen, te bereiken, en zong hem toe: „Gij
zult van huid veranderen en daardoor, als slangen, eeuwig jong
blijven”. Walter E. Roth, aan wien wij het voorgaande ontleenen,
voegt er aan toe: „Toen Kororomanna* naar de aarde afdaalde, om te
zien wat de Arowakken deden, vond hij ze zóó slecht geworden, dat hij
hun het eeuwige leven ontnam, en het aan dieren gaf, die nu nog hun
huid afwerpen” (slangen, hagedissen).

Het verhaal „De dochter van den Geestenbezweerder”, [21](No. 6) geef


ik als een der vele voorbeelden van dit geloof. In een nog zeer primitief
stadium van hun geloof aan een eeuwig leven laat de Indiaan het
lichaam na den dood somtijds in steen veranderen, hetzij als een
normaal iets, hetzij bij wijze van straf (No. 9).

In een hooger stadium van het geloof aan een voortbestaan na den
dood wordt het lichaam vergankelijk gedacht, maar de geest of de
geesten, die er in huizen en die bij den dood vrijkomen,
onvernietigbaar. In alle deelen, waarin een slagader klopt, meenen de
Indianen, zetelt een geest, van welke de in het hart huizende de
voornaamste is.

De opvattingen, die verschillende Indianenstammen huldigen omtrent


het verblijf dezer geesten na den dood, en de rol, die zij spelen, loopen
zeer uiteen. Sommige stammen huldigen de meening, dat de geest van
het hart na den dood hemelwaarts stijgt, om daar met andere
gelijksoortige geesten te leven en ten slotte in een jong, nieuw lichaam
te veranderen. Andere geesten gaan na den dood, hetzij naar het
zeestrand en kunnen daar de booten van koers doen veranderen,
hetzij naar het bosch of veranderen in dieren.

Dat in tal van dieren, volgens het geloof der Indianen, geesten huizen,
blijkt niet alleen uit verschillende hunner mythen, sagen enz., maar ook
uit hun geloof aan kwade en goede voorteekens en uit hunne talrijke
bekoringsmiddelen, om de geesten dezer dieren gunstig te stemmen
(zie later). Ook komen onder de Indianen talrijke sporen voor van een
geloof aan geesten, die in planten huizen, (zie verder) ja, de geheele
natuur wordt door de Indianen als bezield gedacht.

Nu eens kan een geest zich aan een ander lichaam verbinden, om een
geestelijke vriend of een raadgever [22]te worden, dan weêr kan hij in
zijn nieuwe verblijf kwaad willen stichten. De geesten kunnen in de
bosschen, velden en bergen blijven ronddolen, hun verblijf in boomen,
steenen, onderaardsche holen opslaan, ja, ook wel met sterren,
rivieren en de zee in verbinding treden.

De graad van onsterfelijkheid van den geest verschilt, te beginnen bij


het primitieve geloof aan een ronddwalen om de plaats, waar de doode
begraven is, tot aan het meer gevorderde geloof aan een overplanting,
met of zonder dierlijke of menschelijke reïncarnatie.

De geest van een doode is altijd, ook bij de Indianen, een onderwerp
van vrees. Bij doodenfeesten moet men dan ook den geest van den
overledene gunstig trachten te stemmen, en hem vriendelijk
toespreken.

Dance (D.) haalt een merkwaardig voorbeeld daarvan uit Engelsch


Guyana aan:

Een Indiaansch kind was gestorven door de slechte gewoonte, om


aarde te eten (aardeten* of geophagie). Toen het lijkje in een open
doodkist lag, die de vader door een Creoolschen timmerman in de
buurt had laten maken, naderde de grootmoeder van het kind kort vóór
de begrafenis het kistje, en zich over het lijkje heenbuigend, sprak zij:

„Mijn kind, ik heb je altijd gewaarschuwd, geen aarde te eten. Ik heb je


er nooit van gegeven, omdat ik wist, dat het slecht voor je was. Maar
altijd zocht je het voor je zelf. Ik zeide je, dat het slecht voor je was. Nu
zie je, heeft de aarde je gedood. Val er mij niet lastig om, want het was
je eigen wil. Een boos iets bracht het in je hoofd, om ze toch te willen
eten. Zie, ik leg je pijl en boog aan je zijde. Je kunt er je meê
vermaken. Ik was altijd lief voor je. Wees ook lief voor mij en maak het
mij niet lastig”. [23]

Daarna kwam de moeder van het kind, en zei als in een treurzang:

„Mijn kind, ik bracht je ter wereld, om je alle goede dingen te laten zien
en te laten genieten. Deze borst”, (daarbij toonde zij een harer borsten)
„heeft je gevoed, zoolang je er behoefte aan had. Ik maakte mooie
doeken om je te kleeden; ik verzorgde je en gaf je eten. Ik speelde met
je en heb je nooit geslagen. Je moet ook goed voor ons zijn en nooit
ongeluk over ons brengen”.

Toen trad ook de vader op het lijkje toe en zei:

„Mijn jongen, toen ik je zei, dat aarde je zou dooden, heb je niet willen
luisteren, en zie, nu ben je dood. Ik ging uit en bracht een mooi
doodkistje voor je meê. Ik zal moeten werken, om het te kunnen
betalen. Ik heb een graf voor je gemaakt op een plek, waar je zoo
dikwijls hebt gespeeld. Ik zal er je behaaglijk inleggen en wat aarde er
bij doen, om ze te kunnen eten; want nu kan je dit geen kwaad meer
doen, en ik weet, dat je er zooveel van houdt. Je moet geen ongeluk
over mij brengen; maar zie naar hem, die je aarde deed eten”.

Het waren tot het Christendom bekeerde Arowakken die zoo spraken,
waaruit blijkt, hoezeer het animistische geloof hen nog beheerschte.

Vele verhalen der Indianen hebben betrekking op z.g. Boschgeesten.


Deze kunnen goede, maar meerendeels kwade hoedanigheden en
bedoelingen hebben, zoodat zij doorgaans bij de Indianen in een
kwaden reuk staan. Zij kunnen uit het lichaam van een doode, hetzij
mensch of dier, of ook wel spontaan ontstaan, en vinden eindelijk een
plaats, hetzij in het bosch, hetzij in een bepaalden boom of plant,
zooals in No. 9, 11 en 29 kan blijken. Hunne namen loopen bij
verschillende stammen zeer uiteen.

Bij Caraïben bestaat de overtuiging, dat zij zelf de oorzaak zijn van de
kwade bedoelingen der geesten, [24]zooals het verhaal „Hoe
lichaamspijnen, dood en ellende op de wereld kwamen” (No. 7) leert.

Een bekende boschgeest der Arowakken heet Konoko Koeja, die


Adda-Koeja wordt genoemd, wanneer hij in een bepaalden boom huist.
Deze laatsten hebben niet zelden de gedaante van vogels. Op dezen
geest heeft betrekking „Het hoofd van den boschgeest en de
nachtzwaluw” (No. 8), waarin deze door alle Indianen gevreesde vogel
uit het hoofd van den geest ontstaan wordt gedacht.

Gevaarlijk wordt het er voor gehouden, de geluiden der geesten na te


bootsen, om hen te lachen, ja zelfs om hunne namen te noemen,
zooals blijkt uit „De vrouw, die een Boschgeest nabootste” (No. 9).
Doch het kan ook wel eens voorkomen, dat een aan een plant
gebonden geest iemand tegen een anderen Boschgeest beschermt.
Als voorbeeld van dit geloof is No. 10, getiteld: „De Geest van de
schimmelplant redt het jonge meisje”, vooral hierom merkwaardig,
omdat de Indiaan zich hier zelfs begeeft op het moeilijke gebied van de
leer der plantaardige parasieten. In dit verband is ook No. 37
merkwaardig, omdat het hier de Geest van een den arm eens jagers
bedekkende schimmelsoort is, die verantwoordelijk gesteld wordt voor
diens weinige geluk op de jacht.

Buitengewoon rijk is de Indiaansche folklore aan mythen en legenden,


die in verband staan met het geloof, dat bij alle stammen wordt
aangetroffen, aangaande een innig verband tusschen menschen en
dieren.

Oorspronkelijk waren volgens de meeste overleveringen menschen en


dieren uit een zelfde „deeg” geboren en hadden zij, zooals een legende
der Akawais, een Indianenstam in Engelsch Guyana, vertelt, van den
Grooten Geest, door hen Makoenaima* genoemd, [25]den raad
medegekregen, in eensgezindheid te leven—een gebod, dat volgens
de legenden door het verre voorgeslacht getrouw werd opgevolgd.
Ongehoorzaamheid heeft in latere tijden, zooals de lezer in dezen
bundel herhaaldelijk zal vermeld vinden, daarin verandering gebracht.

Dat volgens de Indiaansche folklore menschen en dieren op


onbeperkte wijze in elkander kunnen overgaan, zooals boven reeds
werd opgemerkt, is alleszins te begrijpen (No. 11 en 12, 16, 28). In vele
gevallen werd de verandering van den mensch in een dier als een
bestraffing opgevat, zooals wij zien in het mooie verhaal, getiteld: Hoe
het ongeluk over de menschen kwam, of de geschiedenis van
Maconaura en Anoeannaïtoe (No. 29).

Volgens de overtuiging der Indianen kan hun geestenbezweerder, de


piaiman, voor wien immers niets onmogelijk geacht wordt, deze
transformatie bij zich zelf en bij anderen te voorschijn roepen, geheel
overeenkomstig die, welke door de geesten tot stand gebracht is.

In de dierenfabels der Indianen gaan de dieren als menschen met


elkander om en als menschen voeren zij gesprekken met elkander,
zooals meer in het bijzonder uit de nummers 13, 14, 15 en 30 moge
blijken. No. 15 getiteld „Tijger en Miereneter”, is ook nog hierom
merkwaardig, omdat een geheel gelijksoortige vertelling (een weinig
gewijzigd) bij sommige Noord-Amerikaansche stammen de ronde doet.
Behoort deze dierenfabel tot de groep van mythen, sagen, legenden en
fabels, die als de overblijfselen te beschouwen zijn van oeroude,
eenmaal over het geheele gebied der Nieuwe Wereld verspreide
overleveringen of is zij, overeenkomstig de meening, dat, waar de
hersenen bij alle menschen gelijk georganiseerd zijn, de produkten van
den geest overal een groote verwantschap zullen moeten vertoonen,
[26]onafhankelijk van het noordelijke voortbrengsel 7 van ’s menschen
fantasie ontstaan?

Hoewel wij ons hier ter plaatse in dezen strijd niet kunnen mengen,
mag toch worden opgemerkt, dat laatstgenoemde meening, om
gelijksoortige verhalen bij verschillende volken te verklaren, in dit geval
zeer onwaarschijnlijk is en dat vele Afrikaansche elementen, die in de
Indiaansche folklore voorkomen, onmogelijk door een ontstaan,
onafhankelijk eener aanraking met de negerbevolking, kunnen
verklaard worden.

Wenden wij ons nu tot de plantenwereld, dan hebben wij reeds


opgemerkt, dat volgens het oude geloof der Indianen, ook
verschillende planten en boomen tot verblijfplaats van geesten kunnen
dienen. Ook de transformatie van menschen in planten en omgekeerd,
wordt nu en dan in de Indiaansche folklore aangetroffen. (Zie No. 1).
Wel het meest bekende voorbeeld in Suriname van een boom, waarin
geesten huizen, is de reeds genoemde Kankantrie* of
Zijdekatoenboom, de hoogste, breedst vertakte en mooiste boom van
Guyana’s oerwouden. Door de Boschnegers van Suriname worden aan
dezen reus geregeld offers gebracht, ten einde de kwade geesten, die
in den boom huizen, gunstig te stemmen.

Het is wel merkwaardig, dat dit geloof en deze gewoonte, die de


negerslaven van Suriname uit Afrika hebben medegebracht, waar een
verwante boom, de Adansonia digitata in de animistische
voorstellingen der negers een zóó groote rol speelt, vóór de komst der
Negers in Guyana reeds lang bij de Indianen bestond. Ook deze zullen,
evenals Boschnegers en Stadsnegers, geen kankantrie omkappen.

Op dit verband tusschen dezen boom en de geestenwereld [27]berust


het geloof, dat zoowel bij Indianen (R. blz. 230) als Negers (C. e.) wordt
aangetroffen, dat de Kankantrie na het ondergaan der zon
wandeltochten onderneemt. Ook het voor den oningewijde vreemde
feit, dat de Indianen in hunne verhalen de hutposten laten spreken (zie
no. 1), vindt uit hun geloof aan in boomen huizende geesten een goede
verklaring. Het verhaal, getiteld „Hariwali en de Wonderboom” (No. 16),
evenals No. 30 „De kolibrie, die tabak brengt voor den eersten
piaiman”, waarin van in de tabak huizende geesten sprake is, is in
laatst genoemd verband zeker de aandacht waard.

Wij hadden het eerstgenoemde, met de geschiedenis van Haboeri,


evengoed onder de Heldensagen kunnen opnemen, want Hariwali is
de stamheld der Arowakken, die sommigen onder hen met Haboeri
gelijkstellen. Evenzeer hadden wij het verhaal van Hariwali onder een
afzonderlijke rubriek der Geesten van het water kunnen opnemen,
omdat er van een watergeest in verteld wordt, die er in de gedaante
van een bruinvisch in optreedt.

Hier mag er ook de aandacht op gevestigd worden, dat de vele


bekoringsmiddelen, die de Indianen toepassen (zie blz. 36) en
waarover de gebroeders Penard zoovele waardevolle mededeelingen
hebben gedaan, ten grondslag liggen aan het bij de Indianen
ingewortelde geloof aan een verband tusschen het plantenrijk en de
geestenwereld.

Waar volgens het geloof der Indianen, zooals boven reeds werd
opgemerkt, alles in de natuur bezield gedacht wordt, is het niet te
verwonderen, dat in verband met de wonderlijke rotsvormen, die in het
binnenland van Guyana voorkomen, zij daarin eveneens bepaalde
geesten denken 8 waarvoor zij zich steeds in acht hebben te nemen, en
[28]steeds een zekere vrees aan den dag leggen—zoodat zij het
gevaarlijk achten hunne namen te noemen, wanneer zij ten minste
onder een bepaalden naam bekend staan (No. 29). Walter E. Roth
geeft van deze vrees verschillende voorbeelden, deels uit de litteratuur,
deels uit eigen ondervinding. Het wordt bijv. als hoogst gevaarlijk
beschouwd, met den vinger naar een geest te wijzen, dus ook naar
diens verblijf. Meer in het bijzonder wordt dit vermeld ten opzichte van
den Ouden man’s val (de beroemde Kaieteur-val in de Essequibo). Im
Thurn (T.) verhaalt, dat toen de op gepotlood ijzer gelijkende
verweeringskorst* van vele rotsen in het droge rivierbed zijn aandacht
had getrokken en hij er de Indianen naar vroeg, zij plotseling hem het
zwijgen oplegden en hem waarschuwden, aan die steenen geen
aandacht te schenken, daar deze zich zouden kunnen wreken en
ongelukken zouden kunnen veroorzaken. Een Indiaan, die op
Schomburgk’s reizen door Engelsch Guyana in 1847–48 eene
verzameling gesteenten droeg, wierp ze weg, uit vrees, dat ze kwaad
zouden kunnen stichten.

In de Indianen-folklore vinden wij herhaaldelijk van transformaties van


menschen in steen melding gemaakt, ook hier meermalen als straf voor
begane overtredingen. Op dit geloof, dat ook in No. 9 voorkomt, heeft
betrekking de legende, die aan den zooeven genoemden val is
vastgeknoopt en die ik onder No. 17 heb opgenomen. Door den
katholieken missionaris W. H. Brett (B.) is zij in dichtvorm
opgeschreven, welke hij voor deze verzameling, waarin de invloed der
zendelingen hier en daar duidelijk te bespeuren is, uitkoos, in
overeenstemming met de wijze, waarop de nationale overleveringen in
vroeger dagen met bijzondere stembuiging, meer gezongen dan
verteld werden.

Ook het omgekeerde, nl. het geboren worden van [29]menschen uit
steen, komt in de Indianen-verhalen meermalen voor. Wij zagen
immers reeds, dat de mythen-cyclus der Arowakken als leidend
kenmerk het ontstaan van alle levende wezens uit een hol in den grond
heeft, dat in menschelijke gedaante, ook wel als een steenen vrouw
wordt voorgesteld. (E. en K. b.).

De Indianen kennen ook een aantal Watergeesten (zooals den lezer


reeds uit No. 16 bleek), waarover in W. E. Roth’s werk tal van
mededeelingen voorkomen.

Nu eens hebben deze geesten een menschelijke gedaante, dan weêr


komen zij in de gedaante van dieren voor, die in het water leven, of zijn
zij half mensch, half dier. Bij de Caraïben heeten zij Okoyoemo, bij de
Arowakken Orehoe en bij de Warraus Ho-aráoeni.

Volgens de Arowakken leven de Orehoes altijd in het water, en


minstens één begeleid steeds een korjaal. Gebeurt er een ongeluk met
een boot, dan is het altijd een Orehoe, die er de oorzaak van is. Deze
hebben menschengedaante en verschijnen hetzij als mannen of als
vrouwen. De vrouwen baden nu en dan op een zandbank in de rivier
en kammen haar lang haar met zilveren kammen.

Bij andere stammen zijn deze Watergeesten overdag vrouwen en des


nachts mannen. Volgens nog weêr anderen leven zij overdag op den
bodem van het water, en komen des nachts uit het water en
schreeuwen als kinderen.

De Okoyoemo der Caraïben hebben de gedaante van een Camoedi*,


maar hij is veel grooter. Vandaar dat het, in geval van slangenbeet,
verboden is, water te drinken of te baden, en het ook niet geraden is,
dicht bij het water te komen.

Sommige dezer watergeesten zijn uit menschen, anderen uit visschen


of vischachtige zoogdieren voortgekomen. [30]Evenals de
boschgeesten, zijn zij verantwoordelijk voor ziekten op de wereld.
Daarom roept de geestenbezweerder, de piaiman, ook hen dikwijls op.
Bij vele stammen worden nadeelige waterstanden der rivier aan hen
toegeschreven, en het is daarom verboden over hen te spreken en
hunne namen te noemen, zooals uit het verhaal: „Amanna en haar
praatzieke man” (No. 18) blijkt.

Onder de vele woorden, die de Indiaan niet mag uitspreken,—die,


zooals men dit noemt, taboe* zijn (zie blz. 37)—zijn er ook woorden,
die niet op het water mogen gebruikt worden.

De groote hoeveelheid van zulke taboe-woorden bemoeilijkt, zooals te


begrijpen is, de Indiaansche taalstudie niet weinig.

Alle Indianenstammen hebben talrijke mythen, sagen en legenden, die


van hunne animistische voorstellingen omtrent alles wat zij aan den
hemel waarnemen, duidelijk blijk geven. Het spreekt van zelf, dat Zon
en Maan een groote plaats in hunne mondelinge overleveringen
innemen. De Zon, de bron van licht en warmte, die doet leven en
groeien; de Maan—de Indiaansche zon der slaap—, die des nachts het
aardrijk verlicht en door zijn herhaalde vormveranderingen in het
eenvoudige brein dezer natuuraanbidders allerlei phantastische
voorstellingen deed geboren worden.

Bij alle stammen, zoowel van het Noordelijk als het Zuidelijk deel der
Nieuwe Wereld, moesten deze hemellichamen, door hetgeen
aangaande hun voor hen zoo geheimzinnig gedrag werd
waargenomen, tot bezielde wezens worden, die als menschen
handelen, strijd voeren, verslonden worden enz.

Kan het verwonderen, dat de Zon met zijn 9 stralenkrans [31]die aan
veeren, pijlen of haren doet denken, in hooge mate op hunne phantasie
moest inwerken; kan het bevreemden, dat ook de Maan met hare zoo
geheimzinnige vlekken, waarin de Indianen menschelijke en ook wel
dierlijke wezens zien, met hare steeds wederkeerende phasen, aan
welke zij de voorstelling van verbrokkeling, lichamelijken groei en
afname of afknaging verbinden, en van welke de maansikkel hen aan
een wapen 10, een arm of aan een waterrad doet denken, het
uitgangspunt der mythenvorming is geworden? En was het ook niet
natuurlijk, dat het opkomen en ondergaan van beide hemellichamen
voorstellingen van verslonden worden door de aarde of de zee schiep,
evenals de terecht zoo gevreesde zons- en maansverduisteringen
slechts aan een verslonden worden konden worden toegeschreven?

Gedurende een zonsverduistering, zoo wordt verhaald, (T.), renden bij


de Arowakken de mannen met angstige [32]kreten uit hunne hutten,
daar zij in de meening waren, dat de Zon en de Maan aan het vechten
waren. In Fransch Guyana is het geloof aangetroffen, dat bij zons- en
maansverduisteringen een vreeselijk monster, dat zij probeeren met
hunne pijlen te verjagen, bezig is de hemellichamen te verslinden.

Een voor dezen bundel geschikte mythe, die de Zon zelve tot
onderwerp heeft, heb ik niet kunnen vinden. No. 19, getiteld: „de Zon
en zijne tweelingzoons”, kan deze leemte eenigermate vergoeden.

Op een der West-Indische eilanden, nl. Haïti, is nog een


scheppingsmythe bewaard gebleven, waarin van de geboorte van Zon
en Maan, evenals de menschen volgens de Arowakschen cyclus, uit
een hol in den grond verteld wordt. Dit eiland zou het eerst van alle
landen geschapen zijn. Het hol, waaruit Zon en Maan geboren werden,
ten einde de aarde van het noodige licht te voorzien, zooals het verhaal
luidt, wordt door de bewoners nog aangewezen. Het bevindt zich op 7
tot 8 mijlen van Kaap François (nu Cape Haytien genoemd) en heet „la
voûte á Minguet”. Het is ongeveer 50 meter diep en zeer smal. Door de
bevolking werd het vereerd, en bij lang uitblijven van regen maakte
men er bedevaarten heen, bracht er offers in den vorm van vruchten en
bloemen en voerde er, onder begeleiding van zang, dansen uit.

„Evenals Zon en Maan stelt elke ster, die om een of andere reden de
aandacht van den Indiaan trekt, een voorwerp op aarde voor. Voor een
kenner staat de levensgeschiedenis van dieren en planten”, zeggen de
Penards, „met vurige letters aan de hemel geschreven”. De namen,
die de Indianen aan bepaalde sterren en sterrebeelden geven, zijn òf
ontleend aan het, in een tijd, waarin zij verschijnen, veelvuldig optreden
van dieren, òf aan het dan rijp worden van bepaalde vruchten. Ook hier
laten de Indianen [33]zich weêr kennen als uitmuntende
natuurwaarnemers.

Sterren en sterrebeelden zijn volgens de Indianen geesten van


menschen en dieren—deze voorstelling treffen wij aan in No. 3 getiteld:
„De oorsprong van het menschdom”—; vallende sterren zijn geesten,
die op de aarde nederdalen. Uit de vele verhalen, die betrekking
hebben op hetgeen de Indianen aan den hemel waarnemen, hebben
wij „de Zon en zijn beide tweelingzoons” (No 19) gekozen. Deze
vertelling behoort tevens tot de zg. Heldensagen, want de bij
verschillende stammen van Guyana tot de Helden behoorende
tweelingzoons van de Zon: Pia en Makoenaima, treden er in op den
voorgrond. Deze sage is een der voorbeelden van de groote
veranderingen, die een verhaal na de overbrenging van den eenen
stam op den anderen kan ondergaan. Van hetzelfde verhaal bestaat nl.
een Warrau-, een Caraïbische en een Macoesi-lezing. Wij verkozen de
tweede, en veranderden den titel, omdat de oorspronkelijke titel „De
Zon, de Kikvorsch en de vuurstokken” niet meer voor de Caraïbische
lezing past. In deze gedaante van het verhaal vindt de Held
Makoenaima tegelijk met maipoeri* ten slotte een plaats onder de
sterren.

Bij de Makoesi-Indianen, een der Indianenstammen van Engelsch


Guyana, heeft de natuuronderzoeker Schomburgk op zijne reizen in dit
land een legende opgeteekend, die betrekking heeft op een Komeet of
Staartster, nl. de Komeet van Halley. Toen deze op een nacht aan den
hemel verscheen, zegt hij, kwamen mannen, vrouwen en kinderen
verschrikt uit hunne hutten loopen, en terwijl zij de armen naar den
hemel uitspreidden, smeekten zij het vreemde lichaam den hemel te
willen verlaten. Zij noemden het Ca-po-escima (= vuurwolk) of Wae-
inopsa (= zon, die zijn stralen achter zich werpt). In deze legende,
getiteld: Legende van den Vleermuisberg (No. 20) wordt [34]de
staartster voorgesteld als een oude vrouw, die een vuurstok (flambouw)
draagt.

Talrijk zijn in de Indianen-folklore de voorbeelden van hun ingeworteld


geloof aan slechte en goede voorteekens (Omens) en hoe hun
gansche leven beheerscht wordt door dit geloof, heeft de lezer reeds
kunnen afleiden uit hetgeen daarover voorkomt in No. 16 en No. 8.

De schildpad, die levend op de heete asch werd gelegd, en telkens er


uit vandaan kroop, was een slecht voorteeken, dat de dood der vrouw
beteekende. Evenzoo is het onheilspellend geluid van de nachtzwaluw
een omen, dat ongeluk voorspelt. Want is deze vogel niet uit den kop
van een gevreesden boschgeest voortgekomen (No. 8)? Niet minder
onheilspeilend is het geluid van den uil (No. 21, No. 26 en No. 28) en
daar voor zijn de Indianen in het bijzonder bang; en geen wonder! want
onder de lugubere geluiden, die onmiddellijk na zonsondergang uit het
oerwoud klinken (C. b.) is dat van den uil wel het meest
angstaanjagende. Een uilensoort huist in oude holle boomen op een
afstand van een rivier en van daaruit klinkt zijn zang (!), die begint met
een viertal tonen in majeur, waarop na een korte pauze van slechts
enkele seconden weêr vier tonen volgen, maar die nu in het
overeenkomstige mineur klinken. Na een kort oogenblik worden de
laatste twee tonen in mineur herhaald en dan is alles stil.

Bij sommige Indianenstammen wordt deze uil „de moeder van de


maan” genoemd. Wanneer de onderzoekingsreiziger in Guyana’s
binnenlanden in een der tijdelijke kampementen in het oerwoud langs
de rivier in zijn hangmat ligt te filosofeeren over „het leven”, wordt hij
soms opgeschrikt door het diep-droefgeestige geluid van „de moeder
van de maan”, dat hem de haren te [35]berge doet rijzen. Als de eerste
tonen hem doen opschrikken, zal een huivering door zijn leden gaan,
want het is alsof een mensch in een poel om hulp roept, en wel op een
zóó droevige wijze, dat het hem toeschijnt, alsof hij alle hoop op
redding heeft opgegeven. De vier tonen, die in mineur volgen, zijn nog
droeviger, want zij klinken alsof de wanhopige in een laatste
krachtuiting den geest geeft. De laatste twee tonen, die na een korte
pauze volgen, zullen hem doen denken, dat hij de laatste snikken hoort
van een worstelende met den dood.

Zulke geluiden, die den reiziger, naast lieflijke tonen, die op


vrouwenzang gelijken of van een fluitspeler afkomstig schijnen,
meermalen des nachts uit het oerwoud toeklinken, zijn zóó
hartverscheurend en ternederdrukkend, dat wie ze eenmaal heeft
gehoord, de herinnering er aan alleen reeds voldoende is, de haren te
berge te doen rijzen. 11

Is het te verwonderen, dat het geluid van den uil in de eerste plaats bij
de Indianen als een slecht voorteeken geldt?

Ook kleinere dieren, zooals insekten kunnen, voor den Indiaan kwaad
of goed beteekenen. Een merkwaardig voorbeeld van dit geloof is bijv.
de Lichtkever*, een der merkwaardigste phosphoresceerende dieren
van het oerwoud, want deze kevers verschijnen plaatselijk als een
zwerm hellichtende vonken, die voortdurend door het geboomte heen
en weêr dwarrelen. Dit insekt kan voor den Indiaan drie voorspellingen
beteekenen. Wanneer het lichtende dier in zijn hut op den grond valt,
voorspelt [36]het een spoedigen dood van een der bewoners. Valt het in
het vuur, dan beteekent dit, dat een hert het gezonden heeft, om licht
voor hem te halen. Wanneer het onder de hutbedekking gaat zitten,
meent de Indiaan, dat hij iemand verwachten kan. Op dit bijgeloof, dat
wij aan Walter E. Roth ontleenen, heeft het verhaal „De lichtkever en
de verdwaalde jager (No. 22) betrekking, terwijl in „De piaiman en de
stinkvogels” (No. 28) een insekt (een zwarte mier) als een goed
voorteeken voorkomt.
Een zeer groote rol in het leven van den Indiaan spelen de bekoringen,
en de daarvoor door hen gebezigde bekoringsmiddelen, de zg. Binas
of Toelalas (P.) die voor allerlei doeleinden dienen, hetzij voor goede,
hetzij voor slechte. Zij worden bijv. gebruikt, om zich een goede jacht of
vischvangst te verzekeren, waarbij men voor bepaalde dieren bijzonder
daarvoor bereide Toelalas bezigt. Het geloof der Indianen in deze
middelen berust op de gelijkenis van het middel met het te bekoren
wezen. Wanneer de Indiaan bijv. een Pakira* wil bekoren, waardoor hij
meent geluk te zullen hebben op de pakirajacht, zal hij het middel
bereiden uit het blad van een plant (een Xanthosoma-soort), waarin hij
gelijkenis ziet met den pakirakop. De Penards hebben in hun reeds
aangehaald werkje dit onderwerp uitvoerig behandeld; daaruit moge
blijken, hoe ingewikkeld dit bekoringsvraagstuk, waarvan volgens den
Indiaan zooveel afhangt, wel is.

Niet alleen op de jacht en de vischvangst doen de bekoringsmiddelen


goede diensten, maar de Indiaan bezigt ze ook in zijne betrekking tot
de vrouw. Hij heeft er, die hem het bezit van een door hem gewenschte
vrouw kunnen verzekeren en ook die de kracht bezitten, een vrouw,
van wie hij afkeerig is, van hem verwijderd te houden. Ook de vrouw
kan hetzelfde middel tot wegdrijving [37]der liefde bezigen ten opzichte
van den man (zie blz. 48). Slechts enkele legenden worden onder hen
verteld, waarin het bekoringsmiddel wordt aangeduid, zooals in No. 23
getiteld: „De bina, de weder in het leven geroepen vader en de slechte
vrouw”, en in No. 24 getiteld: „Hoe een jong Warrau-Indiaantje uit de
handen der Caraïben ontkwam”. Ook in No. 38, getiteld: „De Legende
van Letterhoutstomp” is van bekoring, nl. van den slangengeest
sprake.

Talrijk zijn bij de Indianen de onthoudingen, die zij voortdurend in acht


hebben te nemen, ten einde zich daardoor tegen onheilen te

You might also like