The Ark

Overall, The Ark by Haruo Yuki is both fun and successful as a murder mystery. Set in an underground "ark" apparently used by a cult (with some nefarious purpose possibly predating this), the novel features a group of ten trapped underground after an earthquake. Someone then proceeds to kill three members of the group. In terms of the actual mystery behind the murders, there is a great twist at the end which truly changes the meaning of some of the earlier chapters. Nonetheless, we were able to guess the identity of the killer after the third victim's discovery. The novel's genius lies in its clever twist and reminding readers of the importance of understanding motive to solve a mystery. This novel's wannabe sleuth, Shotaro, the cousin of the narrator, builds a consistent logical chain of reasoning to identify the killer, but falls short on establishing a fully convincing motive for all three killings. Unsurprisingly, this will have terrible consequences by the conclusion of the novel. But along the way, the reader is treated by a suspenseful tale of murder and disaster as a group of university friends and the family that joins them turn on each other before the "ark" is completely flooded. One only wishes the novel explored more fully the background of the structure, only hinted at here or there with the appearance of torture instruments and cults. The old friends from their university days are also not fully developed here, but enough exists to establish the air of hostility between one character and the the narrator. 

Tula Ndivile

Going down the rabbit hole of jazz in the 1960s and 1970s led us to Johnny Dyani, which of course led back to Miriam Makeba. There's something so majestic and uplifting about her singing in these early South African vocal groups, like the Manhattan Brothers. I also recall shocking a South African person when, back in the day, I could sing some of these tunes.

Journey in Satchidananda (Live)

After reading the latest biography of Alice Coltrane, we have continued our obsessive listening to all of her recorded work. We were reminded of this rousing live version of one of our favorite Coltrane songs we enjoyed several years ago, "Journey In Satchidananda." Something about Alice Coltrane just creates an atmosphere.

Cosmic Music and Alice Coltrane

Although it took some time to procure a copy through the library, we have finally finished Andy Beta's detailed biography of Alice Coltrane. Entitled Cosmic Music: The Life, Art, and Transcendence of Alice Coltrane, one can already guess the author's approach to her life and music. He tries to balance the spiritual and musical aspects of Coltrane's life, showing much respect for her as Swamini who led an ashram in Agoura Hills. Significantly longer and benefitting from more recently released or reissued recordings of Alice Coltrane's work, Beta's biography is more comprehensive than that of Berkman's earlier study of Coltrane. By adroitly balancing the various aspects of Coltrane's life and showing great respect to her faith, readers understand how the sacred was always part of Alice's aesthetic. Though sometimes leaning toward credulity, one suspects Beta wants the reader to come to their own conclusions about Alice's spiritual transformation and abilities. For examples, see how Beta nonchalantly reports Coltrane's claims to levitate, or astrally project. Or, for instance, her somehow learning Ancient Egyptian for "Er Ra." The biography abounds with examples of Turiya's claims to astral projections, meetings with deceased composers, and karmic healing. This undoubtedly informs the reader of all aspects of her life and work, from Alice's own perspective. He's also effectively demonstrates how the jazz establishment dismissed her for sexist reasons and how Alice went on to shape New Age music, a field for which we must confess a lack of interest.

Naturally, as one can expect in the standard jazz biography, Beta contextualizes Coltrane's work in the larger social, cultural and political spheres of her time. This means highlighting the impact of race and gender on limiting opportunities for African Americans, the context of the Civil Rights Movement and Black Power, and the sexism of the jazz and music industries. Thus, the story begins with Detroit and expands significantly beyond the confines of Alice's own upbringing and church community. Black Detroit, despite the ugly racism of the past, was a vibrant center for music and the arts. Even the schools, less segregated, provided an excellent musical education accessible to black students. This background helps to explain the rise of not only jazz musicians like Alice Coltrane and her older brother, but the eventual ascent to stardom of Motown (also connected to Alice Coltrane through her sister's career as a songwriter). This important historical/cultural context for Black Detroit was unknown to us, mainly the reputation of Detroit jazz artists as excellent musicians in the genre and often becoming major figures of the second half of the last century. Thus, Yusef Lateef, Alice Coltrane, Terry Pollard, and Joseph Henderson were just some of the brilliant players to come out of this musical environment. Beta also emphasizes the role of jazz musicians like Terry Pollard and Dorothy Ashby, also from Detroit, to indicate how female instrumentalists were also renowned in the city. 

The subsequent section of the biography covers Alice's early career as a musician. Despite dreams of Juilliard, she makes a name for herself in Detroit, playing with groups like the Premiers. She also spent time in Paris, meeting with the legendary Bud Powell (whose technique she was said to resemble in her piano style) and hearing Coltrane with Miles Davis at the Olympia. She even toured with Terry Gibbs, being one of the better soloists on his recording of Jewish music. Indeed, one can already detect her eclecticism here since Alice was performing music from bob, African-American spirituals, Jewish, and the jazz traditions. Her time in New York City is mentioned here or there, including the time she spent at a Loft where each morning greeted the musicians with the fresh aroma of flowers. Coltrane even married Hagood, another musician, yet faced the misfortune of his drug addictions and had to raise Michelle on her own. But the next part of her life proved to be more momentous in her musical and personal development. 

Next, Alice meets John. Both were shy, very shy. Alice had already seen him perform in Paris and John's stature in the music was very well established. The two hit it off and Alice eventually married John. Although she did not immediately join the quartet, her conversations with John obviously included their shared passion for music, such as Stravinsky. Over time, as Coltrane's music went further "out," the group fell apart while Alice replaced Tyner as pianist. By this period, Alice's playing was less of the Bud Powell-influenced style she was known for. She was still very much connected to her musical roots, but her shared interest in spiritual jazz, avant-garde music, and alternative religious systems led her and John to create more daring, freer music. One can only wonder how their music would have developed had John lived into the 1970s and 1980s.

Of course, Coltrane tragically died from illness in 1967. After a harrowing time that was likely part mental breakdown, part spiritual awakening, Alice recovered and established herself as the bearer of John's legacy whilst continuing her own musical voice. This growing interest in Hinduism and what might be seen as New Age thinking was part of a broader current in the United States at the time. Fortunately, Beta does highlight this, even mentioning how Alice Coltrane met and worked with Laura Nyro and others interested in Eastern religion and philosophy at the time. Other jazz musicians likewise explored Islam, Buddhism, Hinduism, or their own Afrocentric mythologies, like Sun Ra. Sun Ra is mentioned by name here for being one of the influences on John's interests in esoterica. It's perhaps under-analyzed here how Alice Coltrane's ascent to guru is part of a Black counterculture, with all the limitations and problems of the larger phenomenon of the 1960s and 1970s.

Now paired with her Hindu-inspired spiritual awakening and harp playing, Alice's music was polarizing for the jazz establishment. Perhaps aiming for low-hanging fruit, Beta occasionally quotes and eviscerates sexist jazz critics who naively dismissed Alice's albums or "tainted" the last recordings of Coltrane by overdubbing strings or her own music. Some of this music is sheer beauty and cosmic delight, like World Galaxy, and was recorded with excellent jazz artists like Pharoah Sanders, Charlie Haden or Rashied Ali. In more recent times, musicians and critics have finally recognized the brilliance of Alice's music, both the secular and her unique recordings of bhajans accompanied by the singing of her students. Alice has finally received the recognition she was due, and not just as the wife of John Coltrane. One can only hope more female jazz instrumentalists receive the recognition they are due instead of being ignored or reduced to their relationship with more famous men.

Overall, this was a very readable, accessible, and entertaining biography. Our interest in Alice Coltrane as a guru or spiritual leader remains slight, but Beta successfully balances this aspect of her career with her earlier life. Indeed, his interviews with members of Coltrane's ashram as well as various producers, musicians, and family members who knew her well reveal how deeply researched this book is. And, as he makes abundantly clear in how Alice Coltrane was always performing or playing music after the end of her contract with Warner, members of the public could even visit her center on Sundays for rousing performances of bhajans. Music was constantly in the home, too. Still, it is a travesty that some of her recordings from studio dates or live performances have been lost, as well as much of the television material she created. Beta's biography fills in as much of the gap as possible, highlighting as always her dedication to music's sacred dimensions. Indeed, her son, Ravi, appears to have maintained some of this aura. At a concert we attended, of which the audience was at least a quarter Indian or South Asian, and performed in a church, one could feel the "cosmic" and divine. Therefore, the Coltrane legacy (both John and Alice) lives on in the music of Ravi and many others, both jazz or non-jazz artists, who imbue a "cosmic" dimension to their work. Unsurprisingly, we have been inspired to explore all of Coltrane's recorded works now. We have moved beyond our youthful dismissal of her music after the early 1970s and can appreciate the beauty of her bhajans.

One Nation Under a Groove

Just another classic from Funkadelic...Nothing can stop us now.

Thoughts on Lebeuf's Les principautés Kotoko: essai sur le caractère sacré de l'autorité

Les principautés Kotoko: essai sur le caractère sacré de l'autorité by Annie M.D. Lebeuf is rather difficult to "use" for those interested in the relations of the Kotoko states and Kanem-Borno. Despite Lebeuf's (and that of Griaule and her husband) work on both ethnographica and archaeological studies of the Lake Chad Basin, oral traditions are sadly vague on any kind of chronological precision. Consequently, Lebeuf engages in a deep discussion of myths heard in various Kotoko states, seeking to identify the symbolic meanings of these mythic origin tales. Doing so allows some insights into the nature of Kotoko cosmology and socio-political organization in the various principalities or states, like Logone-Birni or Makari. 

Unfortunately, this approach means that one is entering a terrain in which more exact notions of the historical development of the Kotoko states are elusive. The "Sao" period remembered as preceding the states as we know them is recalled through myth. Likewise, the long lists of names of Sao and post-Sao rulers of different Kotoko towns are just that, a list of names. Most, at least as understood by Lebeuf, have little or nothing specifically remembered about them beyond their names. As a result, Kotoko royal genealogies and oral traditions sadly cannot fill in much of the gap in the history of relations between the states of the Sayfawa (Kanem, and then Borno) and the so-called "Sao" or Kotoko principalities. 

Nonetheless, one can gleam some useful nuggets of information from Kotoko traditions. The royal families of Makari and Afade, for instance, were said to be of Kanuri Muslim extraction. Indeed, the first Muslim ruler of Afade, Assana or Meskeri Tchigo, was said to be the brother of Ousseini of Makari. To what extent they actually were of Kanuri origin is unclear, but Lebeuf's ethnographic observations often found foreign maternal ancestry among the Kotoko princes of recent times. More intriguing is the claim to Bulala origin of the first Muslim king of Goulfeil. Even if not entirely accurate, it attests to an instance of Bulala interest and possible expansion into this region south of Lake Chad, presumably during the 1300s-1500s.  Likewise, the Babalia ties of Gawi and through them to Yao in the Lake Fitri region is another interesting tradition, although difficult to place chronologically.  One can certainly detect the use of Kanuri titles and influences in some of the Kotoko states, perhaps beginning or expanding after the rise of Muslim dynasties. For instance, the possible Kanuri influence in Makari and Afade was certainly established by the 1500s, although Borno traditions point to contacts by the 1300s (see H.R. Palmer's work for the relevant traditions). This influence even affected Kotoko myth to some extent, with the bull, turtle, and primordial waters story appearing here. But Kotoko traditions remain very ambiguous when it comes to the specific details of relations with their northern neighbors from Kanem and Borno. 

In other respects, there are broadly shared regional commonalities among the Kotoko states, Bagirmi, Wadai, Kanem and Borno. For example, the central role of the nguva, or dendal, is shared between the Kotoko towns and cities of Borno. The centrality of the palace is also important, although in this region the Kotoko masons did not apply brick. Instead, their palace complexes and monumental gudu or guti were made of earth. Nonetheless, the emphasis on monumental architecture that, to Lebeuf at least, symbolized the meeting of the sky and the earth, could match the role of monumental mosques used in Wadai, Borno, and Bagirmi. To what extent moieties and quarter systems seen in Kotoko towns correspond with similar notions in Kanem, Borno, Wadai and Bagirmi is a topic we shall have to explore in the future.

What of the Kotoko states themselves? To Lebeuf, analysis of myths of origin and their symbolism provide the key. The foundation myths often refer to hunters and fishmen, the fusion of distinct populations in one region, and the sacrifice of children by representatives of the two populations. Animal symbolism is also key here, with the varan and serpents or other animals often appearing in tales. The "Sao" are accorded an important place here in these origin stories, often associated with the founders of towns like Makari. Over time, larger towns existed as agglomerations of communities walled their settlements after unifying. The Kotoko princes, to use Lebeuf's vocabulary, were sometimes seen as descendants of outsiders who forged alliances with the local people. This is perhaps why the gumsu was often chosen from among the descendants of the first families of a town or city, to maintain this pact between the dynastic line and the original settlers. Interestingly, however, succession in the Kotoko states usually passed to sons of slave women. Complex age grades were used as well as the moieties or quarter system to organize the people of the towns themselves. 

Over time, some began to increase their power over their neighbors, but the Kotoko states were never unified into a single polity. Instead, 3 broader sub-regions appear, with Makari as the dominant state in Mandague, Mser led by Kousseri, and Lagouane under Logone-Birni domination. This was not always the case, since Houlouf was remembered as once being a powerful state. A close study of references to the Kotoko states in Bagirmi, Bulala, Borno and Mandara traditions and chronicles will undoubtedly shed more light on this.

Overall, Lebeuf's work remains important for attempting to center Kotoko myths, symbolism and ethnographic fieldwork. Undoubtedly, archaeology will remain central for understanding the deep history of this region and the so-called "Sao" often associated with the early period of the Kotoko states. Nonetheless, a thorough examination, comparison and analysis of references to the Kotoko states in the historical traditions of its neighbors can shed more light. Sadly, Lebeuf scarcely attempted this. Except for some more recent history still partly recalled in Kotoko traditions on the expansionist activities of Logone-Birni by the 1760s, little else is remembered specifically. Future research on this region must include attempts at triangulation of disparate traditions as well as a  reexamination of all the relevant written sources from neighboring states. 

Jaya Jaya Rama

"Jaya Jaya Rama" is one of those early gospel blues compositions of Alice Coltrane inspired by her interest in Hinduism. She would later go on to perfect it, but it's always interesting to trace her development as a pianist in this style.