by Jeremy Narby
7 Tubocurarine is the best-known active ingredient of Amazonian curare preparations, but, as Mann (1992) points out, C-toxiferine is twenty-five times more potent. However, “both drugs have been largely superseded by other wholly synthetic neuromuscular blocking agents, such as pancuronium and atracurium. Like tubocurarine these have a rigid molecular structure with two positively charged nitrogen atoms held in a similar spatial arrangement to that found in tubocurarine. This allows them to bind to the same acetycholine receptor and thus mimic the biological activity of tubocurarine, because the distance between the two cationic centres (N+ to N+ distance) is approximately the same” (pp. 21-23). Concerning the initial use of curare in medicine, see Blubaugh and Linegar (1948).
8 See Schultes and Raffauf (1990, pp. 265ff. and 305ff.) for a relatively exhaustive list of the different plant species used across the Amazon Basin for the production of curare. As Bisset (1989) points out, the chemical activity of Amazonian curares is still poorly understood. Most of these muscle-paralyzing substances contain plants of the Strychnos or Chondodendron genus, or a combination of both, to which a certain number of admixtures are added, according to the recipes. The exact role of these admixtures is obscure, even though they seem to contribute to the potentiation of the main ingredients. Moreover, Manuel Córdova (in Lamb 1985) provides a first-person account of the production of curare destined for medical use, in which he repeatedly mentions the importance of avoiding “the pleasantly fragrant vapors” (p. 48)—giving the example of a German zoologist who died for lack of care (pp. 97-98). First-person accounts of curare production are rare, as curare recipes are often jealously guarded secrets.
9 See Reichel-Dolmatoff (1971, pp. 24, 37).
10 For examples of texts that illustrate the value of the botanical knowledge of Amazonian peoples with multiple references to curare, Pilocarpus jaborandi, and tikiuba, see the special issue of Cultural Survival Quarterly (Vol. 15, No. 3) devoted to the question of intellectual property rights of indigenous peoples, and in particular the articles by Elisabetsky (1991), Kloppenberg (1991) and King (1991). On the more general question of these rights, see Posey (1990, 1991). See Rouhi (1997) for references to Couroupita guienensis and Aristolochia. For recent work on the unidentified plants of the indigenous pharmacopoeia, see Balick, Elisabetsky, and Laird (1996), in particular the article by Wilbert (1996), as well as Schultes and von Reis (1995).
11 See Luna (1986, p. 57).
12 Schultes and Raffauf (1992, p. 58). Davis (1996) writes: “. . . Richard Evans Schultes, the greatest ethnobotanist of all, a man whose expeditions . . . placed him in the pantheon along with Charles Darwin, Alfred Russel Wallace, Henry Bates, and his own hero, the indefatigable English botanist and explorer Richard Spruce” (p. 11). Davis’s book is a treat, beautifully written and well researched.
13 Slade and Bentall (1988) write: “Indeed, taking the ordinary language words ‘real’ and ‘imaginary’ to describe public and private events respectively, it is true by definition that the act of hallucination involves mistaking the ‘imaginary’ for the ‘real’” (p. 205). Hare (1973) writes: “Let us instead define a hallucination as a subjective sensory experience which is of morbid origin and interpreted in a morbid way” (p. 474). Webster’s Third New International Dictionary defines hallucination as follows: “perception of objects with no reality; experience of sensations with no external cause usually arising from disorder of the nervous system; . . . a completely unfounded or mistaken impression or notion; Delusion.”
14 According to Renck (1989), who reviewed the scientific literature on the matter, and who bases himself on Tavolga’s work, there are six levels of communication: vegetative (the color of the flower, the texture of the fur), tonic (the smell of the flower, the heat of the body), phasic (the chameleon changes skin color, the dog pricks up its ears), descriptive (the dog growls), symbolic (some monkeys can communicate with abstract signs), and linguistic (“The only known example is the language articulated by man,” p. 4).
5: DEFOCALIZING
1 The Young Gods, and Steve Reich.
2 See Crick (1994, pp. 24, 159) on the visual system, and more broadly Penrose (1994) and Horgan (1994) on the current limits of knowledge about consciousness.
3 Among the exceptions, Hofmann (1983, pp. 28-29) writes: “As yet we do not know the biochemical mechanisms through which LSD exerts its psychic effects”; Grinspoon and Bakalar (1979, p. 240) write on the main effects of hallucinogens: “The only reasonably sure conclusion we can draw is that their psychedelic effects are in some way related to the neurotransmitter 5-hydroxytryptamine, also called serotonin. Not much more than that is known”; and Iversen and Iversen (1981) write: “We remain remarkably ignorant of the scientific basis for the action of any of these drugs.” See the bibliographies in Hoffer and Osmond (1967) and in Slade and Bentall (1988) for an overview of the numerous studies on hallucinations and hallucinogens during the 1950s and 1960s.
4 Schultes and Hofmann (1979, p. 173).
5 Psilocybin, which is found in over a hundred mushroom species, is a close variant of dimethyltryptamine, as Schultes and Hofmann (1980) write: “Degradation studies showed psilocybin to be a 4-phosphoryloxy-N, N-dimethyltryptamine. Hydrolysis of psilocybin gives equi-molecular amounts of phosphoric acid and psilocin, which is 4-hydroxy-N,N-dimethyltryptamine” (p. 74). LSD is 100 times more active than dimethyltryptamine. See Hofmann (1983, p. 115) for the comparison between LSD and psilocybin, and Strassman et al. (1994) for an estimate of the basic dose of dimethyltryptamine.
6 Grinspoon and Bakalar (1979) write: “Used to describe the estheticized perception or fascination effect, enhanced sense of meaning-fulness in familiar objects, vivid closed-eye imagery, visions in subjective space, or visual and kinesthetic distortions induced by drugs like LSD, ‘hallucination’ is far too crude. If hallucinations are defined by failure to test reality rather than merely as bizarre and vivid sense impressions, these drugs are rarely hallucinogenic” (pp. 6-7). However, these authors consider that the term “pseudo-hallucinogenic” is awkward, even if it describes precisely the effects of substances such as LSD and MDMA (“Ecstasy”). Slade (1976) writes: “The experience of true hallucination under mescalin and LSD-25 intoxication is probably fairly infrequent” (p. 9). For a discussion of the concept of “pseudo-hallucination,” see Kräupl Taylor (1981). Regarding the evolution of the relationship between science and hallucinogens, see Lee and Shlain (1985). Finally it should be noted that the synthetic compound known as “Ecstasy” differs from the other substances mentioned here in that it appears to be neurotoxic and to destroy the brain’s serotonin-producing cells (see McKenna and Peroutka 1990).
7 Besides the 72 ayahuasca-using peoples of Western Amazonia, there are those who sniff dimethyltryptamine-containing powders of vegetal origin, or who lick dimethyltryptamine-containing pastes. These pastes and powders are made from different plants (Virola, Anadenanthera, Iryanthera, etc.) depending on the region. Sniffing dimethyltryptamine powders also seems to have been a custom among the indigenous peoples of the Caribbean, until they were physically eliminated during the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries.
8 As I noted in Chapter 2, the exact chemical composition of ayahuasca remains a mystery. It should be pointed out that, contrary to the recent scientific studies which indicate that dimethyltryptamine is the brew’s main active ingredient, ayahuasqueros consider that Banisteriopsis caapi (containing the beta-carbolines) is the main ingredient, and that Psychotria viridis (containing the dimethyltryptamine) is only the additive—see Mabit (1988) and Mabit et al. (1992). Regarding scientific research on the effects of dimethyltryptamine, the studies by Szára (1956, 1957, 1970), Sai-Halasz et al. (1958), and Kaplan et al. (1974) all consider this substance as a “psychotomimetic” or a “psychotogen,” an imitator or a generator of psychosis. The study by Strassman et al. (1994) is the only one that I found with a neutral approach. However, all of these studies agree on one point: Dimethyltryptamine produces tr
ue hallucinations, in which the visions replace normal reality convincingly. As Strassman et al. (1994) write: “Reality testing was affected inasmuch as subjects were often unaware of the experimental setting, so absorbing were the phenomena” (p. 101). Finally it is worth noting that there are several interesting non-scientific studies, provided by people who have used this substance, published in Stafford (1977, pp. 283-304), as well as the writings of Terence McKenna (1991).
9 Slade and Bentall (1988) attribute the vertiginous speed of certain visual hallucinations to “the known time-distorting effects of hallucinogens” (p. 154)—but I find this explanation to be insufficient in the light of my personal experience; under the influence of ayahuasca I saw images fly past at unimaginable speed without feeling a chronological acceleration in any other domain of my internal reality. Siegel and Jarvik (1975) sum up the usual scientific theory on the internal and cerebral origin of hallucinatory images: “The notion of hallucinations consisting of complex memory imagery is neither a radical nor a new idea. It is not radical because it appeals to an intuitive sense of what is reasonable to infer. When one hallucinates something that is not there, the stimuli being perceived (i.e., the image) must come from some source. It is not reasonable for normal man to infer that such stimuli, when auditory, are ‘voices talking to me,’ ‘radio waves from another planet,’ or clairvoyant communications with a deceased loved one. Nor is it always reasonable to infer that the stimuli, when visual, are real (e.g., ‘that little green man is really there’) or self-contained in a recently administered drug (e.g., ‘God is in LSD’). Rather, it is more reasonable to infer that such phenomena originate in stored information in the brain, that is, memories” (p. 146).
10 In the nineteenth century, botanist Richard Spruce and geographer Manuel Villavicencio both described their personal ayahuasca experiences—see Reichel-Dolmatoff (1975, Chapter 2) for extracts of their reports. Currently, there is a range of positions within anthropology concerning the investigator’s personal use of hallucinogens. Taussig (1987), who uses the Colombian term yagé for ayahuasca, writes: “There is no ‘average’ yagé experience; that’s its whole point. Somewhere you have to take the bit between your teeth and depict yagé nights in terms of your own experience” (p. 406). At the other end of the spectrum, Chaumeil (1983) writes: “Moreover, I was never truly initiated into shamanic practices, which certainly gave me an external vision of the phenomenon, but which also guaranteed, on the other hand, a certain ‘objectivity’” (p. 9). Strangely, even though I feel a greater affinity for Taussig’s perspective—his book stimulated my thinking on how to broach the subject of Amazonian hallucinogens—I found Chaumeil’s book more useful for clarifying questions of techniques and content. This seems to indicate that it is possible to be a good film critic without ever seeing a movie with one’s own eyes, but by interviewing film buffs with patience and method—as Chaumeil did with Yagua shamans.
11 Harner (1968, pp. 28-29).
12 Buchillet (1982, p. 261).
13 All quotes are from Harner (1980, pp. 1-10).
14 Reichel-Dolmatoff (1981, p. 81).
15 Ibid. ( p. 87).
16 Ibid. (p. 78).
17 See Chaumeil (1983, pp. 148-149) for the two quotes. The “celestial serpent” appears in the drawing entitled “Schéma 1” on the unnumbered page between pages 160 and 161.
6: SEEING CORRESPONDENCES
1 Most authors report that ayahuasca is taken in complete darkness, which guarantees tranquillity to a certain extent and enhances the visions—see Kensinger (1973, p. 10), Weiss (1973, p. 43), Chaumeil (1983, p. 99), Luna (1986, p. 147), and Baer (1992, p. 87). According to Gebhart-Sayer (1986), Shipibo-Conibo shamans wait for their neighbors’ hearth fires and lamps to go out before drinking ayahuasca “given that light damages their eyes during the visions” (p. 193). However, Reichel-Dolmatoff (1972, p. 100) reports that the Tukano drink ayahuasca in the light of a red torch; Luna (1986, p. 145) reports that one of his informants had occasionally participated in sessions occurring on moonlit evenings and Whitten (1976, p. 155) describes a session which took place “around a very low-burning fire.”
2 Regarding the presence of bananas and fish in the ayahuasqueros’ diet, see Métraux (1967, p. 84), Lamb (1971, p. 24), Reichel-Dolmatoff (1975, p. 82), Whitten (1976, p. 147), Chaumeil (1983, p. 101), Luna (1984, p. 145), and Descola (1996, p. 339). The only mention I found of the connection between this diet and neurotransmitters was in a talk by Terence McKenna (1988, Cassette 5, Side B). On the concentration of serotonin in fish and bananas, see Hoffer and Osmond (1967, p. 503). In the short term, substances such as dimethyltryptamine displace serotonin by bonding to its receptors; this causes the synaptic levels of serotonin to rise and only hinders the brain’s overall production of serotonin in the long term, after repeated use; it is precisely under these circumstances that ayahuasqueros eat bananas and fish. According to Pierce and Peroutka (1989): “Biochemical studies have demonstrated the indole-alkylamines [such as dimethyltryptamine and LSD] suppress 5-HT [serotonin] metabolism and decrease levels of 5-hydroxyindoleacetic acid and increase synaptosomal levels of 5-HT” (p. 120). Descola (1996) writes regarding the diet of apprentice ayahuasqueros among the Achuar: “The resulting diet is dauntingly dull, its basis being plantains (from which the pips must be removed) and boiled palm hearts, sometimes accompanied by small fish” (p. 339). He explains these “dietary prohibitions,” or “taboos,” as follows: “However irrational they may seem, taboos may be regarded as an effect produced by classificatory thinking. Because they draw attention to a system of concrete properties signified by a limited collection of natural species—properties that make the point that no person is exactly like any other in that the flesh of these species is proscribed for him or her personally either temporarily or permanently—taboos testify to a desire to confer order upon the chaos of the social and natural world, purely on the basis of the categories of physical experience” (p. 340).
3 Suren Erkman, personal communication, 1994.
4 The quote is from Townsley (1993, pp. 452, 456). Ayahuasqueros generally consider the mothers, or animate essences, of plants to be the sources of their knowledge. Chaumeil (1983) writes regarding Yagua shamanism: “Every initiation begins with the ingestion of decoctions made from hallucinogenic plants, or plants considered as such, which allow the novice to apprehend the invisible world and to ‘see,’ renuria, the essence of beings and things, and above all the mothers of the plants who are the true holders of knowledge. The importance of hallucinogens in the process of gaining access to knowledge is clearly attested here; they are the main way. It is during such sessions that the novice will contact the mothers who, much more than the instructor shaman, will transmit the knowledge to him” (original italics, p. 312). Regarding these mothers, Chaumeil writes: “Everything that is animated, siskatia, ‘which lives,’ has an essence, hamwo, or mother on which the shaman can act. On the contrary, all that is lacking one is ne siskatia, ‘inanimate,’ ‘lifeless’” (p. 74). Luna (1984) writes regarding the vegetalistas of the city of Iquitos: “All four informants insist that the spirits of the plants taught them what they know” (p. 142). According to Reichel-Dolmatoff (1978), the Tukano acquire their artistic knowledge from the hallucinatory sphere. Gebhart-Sayer (1986, 1987) reports the same thing among the Shipibo-Conibo. Regarding the spirits, mothers, and animate essences more generally, see also Dobkin de Rios (1973), Chevalier (1982), Baer (1992), and Illius (1992).
5 Métraux (1946) writes at the beginning of his article entitled “Twin heroes in South American mythology”: “A pair of brothers, generally twins, are among the most important protagonists of South American folklore. They appear as culture heroes, tricksters and transformers. The Creator or Culture Hero himself is rarely a solitary character. In many cases he has a partner who is often a powerful rival, but who may be a shadowy and insignificant personage.... Whenever the partner of the Culture Hero is represented as an opponent or as a mischievous or p
rankish character, the mythical pair is indistinguishable from the Twin Heroes” (p. 114). Garza (1990) writes regarding Nahua and Maya shamanism: “We see the governing nagual, in the plastic arts of the classical period, emerging from the mouth of enormous serpents, which are magnificent, in other words plumed, and which symbolize water and the sacred vital energy” (p. 109).
6 Lévi-Strauss (1991b, p. 295).
7 See Eliade (1964, pp. 129, 275, 326, 430, 487-490). Métraux (1967) writes regarding the consecration ceremony of the young shaman among the Araucanians: “One prepares, first of all, the sacred ladder or rewe, which is the symbol of the profession” (p. 191).
8 As I wrote in Chapter 2, anthropologists have accused Eliade of “detaching symbols from their contexts,” among other things. I must admit that I, too, had several prejudices regarding his work. The first time I read his book on shamanism and noted the repeated references to ladders, I thought Eliade simply had a folkloric obsession for the “ritual” objects of exotic cultures. I had other reasons for considering his book not to be very useful for the research I was conducting. Eliade considers “narcotic intoxication” to be a “decadence in shamanic technique” (1964, p. 401). This opinion has often been quoted over the last decades to depreciate Amazonian shamanism and its use of plant hallucinogens (which are certainly not “narcotic”). It is important to remember, however, that Eliade originally wrote his book on shamanism in 1951, before the scientific community became aware of the effects of hallucinogens. According to Furst (1994, p. 23), Eliade changed his mind toward the end of his life. The quote regarding the “Rainbow Snake” is from Eliade (1972, p. 118). Regarding crystals, he writes: “It is Ungud [the Rainbow Snake] who gives the medicine man his magic powers, symbolized by the kimbas, which are quartz crystals” (p. 87).
