smiles, it will be a woman.”nWell, of course! Women are thenones who smile an’d are good, and mennscowl and are brutes and beasts. And,nas it turns out, wife-beating is one ofnthe main occupations of the Hamar.nThe men seem to think that if theyndon’t beat their wives, then the wivesnwon’t listen to them, will just — in thenwords of one of the Hamar males, “justnlie around farting all day.” Thenwomen’s consciousness has not yetnbeen raised, and they are woefullynunaware of any possible alternativenlifestyles.nWhat makes this poignant and evennentertaining is that the liberal disapprovalnof wife-beating comes into conflictnwith the liberal notions of how wenought to respect the folkways of thesentribal people. If the preservation of thenHamar way of life is a valuable andnworthy aim, that means the preservationnof wife-beating, which is the onlynway anybody can get the women to gonsweep up the goat droppings. “Bonko,nwould you like to be a woman?” thenfield anthropologist asks in that wonderfullynearnest tone of voice socialnscientists and elementary schoolteachersnshare. Bonko giggles and says no.n”Because a woman is beaten and anman is not,” he says. But then hentrumps this otherwise losing trick bynsaying, “It’s the custom!”nWe see a native dance, mostly jumpingnup and down. We see a namingnceremony. Some litde girl is gettingnnamed. Lots of names. “Truck,” “Airplane,”n”Rain,” and “Coolness” arenamong the names she is given, becausenit was raining when she was born, andnthere was a cool breeze, and, presumably,na truck drove by and a plane flewnover. And the baby is passed from handnto hand, and there are large gourdsnwith gooey stuff in them that peoplenhalf drink, half eat. And they sing theirntuneless and repetitive songs, prayingnfor wealth and plenty, these half-nakednsavages in the middle of the poorestncountry on earth.nWaugh, even if he were still alive,ncouldn’t make cruel jokes like thisnanymore. Or if he did, they couldn’tnget published and distributed. But thennhe wouldn’t have to exert himself Thenanthropologists are out there in thenbushland, carrying on his work for him,nand the museums are showing theirnfilms. All we have to do is smuggle an56/CHRONICLESnlittle intelligence into the auditorium.nAnd security devices haven’t yet beenninvented to keep that out.nDavid R. Slavitt is a poet and novelistnwho lives in Philadelphia.nLITERATUREniinThe VirginianCavaliernby Marshall W. FishwicknW;ne are Cavaliers,” novelistnWilliam Caruthers boasted,n”that generous, fox-hunting, winedrinking,ndueling and reckless race ofnmen which gives so distinct a characternto Virginians wherever they may benfound.”nIf we look closely at the Cavalier, willnwe find the quintessential Virginian?n”Cavalier” was originally an Englishnterm signifying political affiliation, notnsocial status. The migration to colonialnVirginia was largely a middle- and evennlower-class affair; most of the earlynlandholders were small farmers. Thenrelatively few settlers of wealth gavenmanners a warmer tone and emphasizednthe ideal of country life. “Theyngave Virginians their passion for handsomenhouses and fast horses, andnbrought to public life something morenthan it had before of the English notionnthat offices should be held for thenbenefit of the gentry.” Time embroiderednthe truth and made the roughnplaces smooth; more and more Virginiansnbecame Cavaliers. It is simplenenough to explain why. They wanted tonnnbe Cavaliers.nTo sanctify the Cavalier legend innliterature became a primary task fornVirginia writers — and it was by nonmeans easy. Rich in social virtues, thenrural aristocracy was poor in intellectualncross-stimulation; to write was to go itnalone. The most articulate members ofnsociety entered law, politics, or thenministry. In these three fields of endeavor,nthere developed an intellectual rigiditynand a tendency to evaluate any ideanagainst the background of its origin.nThought was often rated according tonnotions of social prestige — a habit extremelyndetrimental to creative thinking,nas many otherwise loyal sons bitterlyncomplained.nHence the literary output of Virginia’snearly writers consisted mainly ofntravel accounts (like those of JohnnSmith and Henry Norwood) and historiesn(of which those by Hugh Jones,nWilliam Stith, and Robert Beverley arenbest known). In the 18th century poetrynand fiction with some relationship ofnstyle and subject began to appear. Onenhardy theme was aristocracy and privilege,nreflecting the general antidemocraticnstrain in Southern thought. Stereotypesnand symbols epitomizing thenplantation economy, class-consciousness,nand sectional pride were nurturedntenderiy. Lacking originality, most Virginianwriters of the period built onnfoundations laid by a Scotsman and anYankee. The Scotsman was Sir WalternScott, and the Yankee James FenimorenCooper. In a sense, Virginia literaturenbegins with them.nScott’s Waverly Novels were America’snfirst best-sellers. Over five millionncopies came off American presses betweenn1813 and 1823; no one knowsnhow many more were imported. Innthese novels the self-made VirginianCavalier and his lady found a mirror ofntheir life and ideals. From them sprangnthe obsession with geneology that stillngrips the state. “It was good form,”nWilliam E. Dodd tells us, “for Southernngentlemen to place Sir WalternScott’s novels on their library shelvesnand for all Southern boys and gids tonread these books as the great models ofnlife and good breeding.” Men wouldnsaddle their horses and ride to townnwhen a new Scott novel was expected.nThe whole region became infected bynthe Sir Walter disease.nThe other pattern-maker, Jamesn