Aboriginal American Authors

In Short

This book is a scholarly, passionate survey of the literary output of various North and South American indigenous groups, ranging from ancient Aztec and Maya manuscripts to oral traditions and works written in European languages. By cataloging these diverse texts—histories, religious rites, poetry, and dramas—the author seeks to prove that American Indians possessed a profound and distinct "literary faculty." He argues that these documents are essential for understanding the psychological and cultural depth of native peoples, ultimately pleading for their preservation and study as significant human achievements.

The Story

The narrative begins by addressing the prevailing nineteenth-century prejudice that dismissed indigenous American societies as unlettered or unimaginative. The author systematically dismantles this notion by demonstrating the linguistic richness and diversity of native tongues. He highlights that while many traditions were historically transmitted through oral performance—a practice refined through memory and storytelling—there were also complex, indigenous systems of record-keeping.

As the text progresses, the scope expands to detail specific examples of this literature. The author examines the intricate "books" of the Aztecs and the more structured hieroglyphic systems of the Maya, explaining how these were used for everything from tracking celestial cycles to documenting genealogies and mythology. He does not stop at pre-Columbian artifacts; he moves into the post-Conquest era, identifying native scholars who began composing works in Spanish, Latin, or their own languages. He points to the Iroquois Book of Rites as a pinnacle of North American tribal history, noting how it preserves the formal ceremonies of the League of the Iroquois with undeniable authenticity.

The argument then shifts to the "didactic" and "imaginative" works, such as the Memorial de Tecpan Atitlan, which chronicles family and tribal migrations. The author acknowledges that some of these texts exist on a fuzzy border between myth and historical fact, yet he insists that this ambiguity does not diminish their value. He explores the tradition of Tupi animal myths and the poetic achievements of figures like the Tezcucan sovereign Nezahualcoyotl.

The arc concludes with an analysis of native drama, specifically highlighting the Qquichua play Ollanta. By detailing its plot—a tale of forbidden love, political rebellion, and eventual reconciliation—he proves that indigenous cultures produced complex, character-driven narratives that mirror the structural sophistication of European theater. The book ends with a firm call to action: these documents are not mere curiosities for the antiquarian but mirror images of the human mind, demanding the attention of global scholarship. He insists that failing to preserve these manuscripts is a loss to the shared history of humanity, urging governments and learned societies to treat them with the same respect afforded to ancient Chinese or Assyrian records.

How It Unfolds

The linguistic foundation The author establishes that the "literary faculty" is universal, pointing to the immense vocabularies and grammatical complexity of languages like Nahuatl and Maya. He emphasizes that the ease with which indigenous people mastered multiple foreign tongues is a testament to their innate intellectual agility.

Graphic systems and records The discussion moves to the physical methods of recording knowledge, contrasting the mnemonic pictographs of hunting tribes with the sophisticated hieroglyphic systems found in Central America. The author catalogs the diverse types of books—ranging from religious rituals to tribute rolls—that survived the destructive pressures of colonization.

The preservation of rites and narratives The narrative centers on specific, surviving documents, such as the Iroquois Book of Rites and the Memorial de Tecpan Atitlan. These examples act as evidence that indigenous societies maintained rigorous, formal processes for documenting their history, laws, and religious life.

Poetry and dramatic art The book explores the lighter, more imaginative side of the native mind through poetic odes and theatrical works. By discussing the Qquichua drama Ollanta, the author demonstrates that native literature included complex, multi-layered storytelling that relied on irony, humor, and psychological depth.

A call for collective action The conclusion serves as a scholarly appeal to the international community. The author argues that protecting these texts is a moral and scientific necessity, positioning them as equal in weight to the most venerable archives of the Old World.

The People

The book is less a character study of individuals and more a study of the collective "native mind." However, certain figures stand as representatives of this intellectual tradition. Nezahualcoyotl, the Tezcucan poet-prince, appears as a symbol of the high art produced by indigenous monarchs, showcasing a legacy of philosophical and religious reflection. Ollanta, the central figure of the Qquichua drama, represents the human element in indigenous storytelling; his journey from rebellious warrior to pardoned subject illustrates the complexities of power, honor, and love inherent in native narrative traditions. The author also features figures like Juan de San Antonio and Don Gabriel de Ayala, native nobles who utilized their education to document the shifting realities of their cultures following the European arrival. These individuals stand in opposition to the "would-be scientific men" of the 19th century—the prejudiced theorists who tried to deny the sophistication of the red race. Through their works, these native authors emerge as survivors, preserving their history against the dual threats of cultural erasure and the passage of time.

In Its Own Voice

"The extraordinarily rich synonomy of some American tongues, notably the Algonkin, the Aztec, and the Qquichua, attests how sedulously their resources have been cultivated."

This observation underscores the author's argument regarding the inherent complexity and expressive power of indigenous languages.

"The monuments of a nation's literature are more correct mirrors of its mind than any merely material objects."

This sentiment serves as the author's thesis, justifying his focus on written texts over archaeological artifacts.

"It is a refutation of the unscientific assumptions of a good many would-be scientific men, who are self-blinded by their theories of development to obvious facts in the mental powers of uncultivated tribes."

This quote highlights the author's polemical stance against the prevailing biases of his era.

What It's Really About

The book is fundamentally an argument for the intellectual equality of indigenous American cultures. It asks the reader to discard the evolutionary hierarchy of the 19th century, which often labeled native peoples as "primitive." By analyzing texts that demonstrate logic, historical consciousness, and artistic beauty, the author posits that the "literary faculty" is not the property of one civilization but a common human trait. The deeper question at stake is the legitimacy of native perspectives: the author argues that history cannot be fully understood if it is only told through the lens of the colonizer. The book serves as a reclamation of the indigenous voice as an essential element of human history.

Why Read It Today

Readers interested in the history of ideas, linguistics, or the preservation of endangered cultural records will find this book deeply compelling. It feels like an act of intellectual resistance, written during a time when such perspectives were largely ignored by the mainstream. The prose is precise and dignified, though the reader should be prepared for the dense, scholarly vocabulary of an 1883 academic. Some of the author’s terminology, while revolutionary for his time, reflects the period's limitations and dated anthropological language.

What stays with the reader is the poignant sense of urgency. The author vividly describes the fragility of these texts—manuscripts rotting in private libraries or disappearing into history—which makes the modern reader feel the weight of what has been lost. It is a sobering, yet inspiring, look at the effort required to document a culture that others tried to render invisible. For those who value the preservation of human diversity, this work is not just a historical curiosity but a reminder that the stories we choose to save determine how we understand our past. It is best suited for those who appreciate a well-reasoned, principled defense of intellectual integrity against the prevailing ignorance of its time.