From the Vault: The Whistling, Part 3

Published Aug 26, 2023, 10:00 AM

In this classic episode of Stuff to Blow Your Mind, Robert and Joe discuss the nature and history of human whistling – including the subject of whistled languages. (originally published 08/09/2022)

Hey, you welcome to Stuff to Blow your Mind. My name is Robert Lamb.

And I'm Joe McCormick, and it's Saturday. Time to hit that vault. This episode originally aired August ninth, twenty twenty two, and it's part three of our series on whistling.

All right, let's go right in.

Welcome to Stuff to Blow Your Mind, production of iHeartRadio.

Hey, welcome to Stuff to Blow your Mind. My name is Robert.

Lamb and I'm Joe McCormick, and we're back with part three of our series on whistling. Now, if you haven't heard the first two parts, you might want to go check those out first. In the previous sections, we talked about the physics of what happens in the mouth when you whistle. We talked about whistling based languages or variants of languages, and we talked about the fascinating practice of Chinese transcendental whistling, as well as some various psychonogical beliefs about the world changing power of whistling. But today, it might be interesting to turn our eyes to ancient history and say, did people whistle in the ancient world? And if so, how would we know about it.

This is such a great question that I'd never really thought about because I kind of took it for granted, like this is a sound that the human body can make, Therefore people would have made this sound. And I think for the most part, this is a good way of looking at it things. But then the other side of the equation is, all right, well, let's look at the evidence. What evidence do we have in the literature of the ancient world that people whistled? And then if they did whistle, well, what are the attitudes concerning whistling? Because one thing that I think we've already been able to distress in this series is that that whistling is fascinating as it is, it is not a neutral thing. We end up having these various culture and, as we'll discuss, superstitious weights attached to the practice of whistling.

You know, I'm just generally fascinated by the idea of ancient music. I guess in part because for the most part we don't know what it sounded like. And so when you find, for example, people who have tried to render into performances some of the oldest recorded like a written notation of music that we have, such as the famous Hurriyan songs or Hurriyan hymns that are from the ancient city of Yugurt, which are these hymns to the goddess Nicoll. They're written on quneiform tablets, and people have tried to turn that music notation into performances that you can hear today, and it's very haunting. The same is true. I think there's an ancient Greek tombstone that has some music notation on it that has been translated into modern music. I think it's known as the Sekloss or Seculoss epitaph. And when you hear those sounds, they really do feel very alien. They're like they're from another world, and it just opens the mind all these possibilities that the ancient world was full of music that we will never know because it wasn't recorded, of course it couldn't be, and it also wasn't written down or notated in any way that we can understand today.

Yeah, yeah, all this is definitely worth thinking about it and again coming down to like why it is whistling important enough to take note of? This is a question that remains on one's mind as we look at these different examples. But the main paper that I was looking at that was really getting into this was a two thousand paper by AV Van Stakelenberg titled Whistling in Antiquity, and the author dives into the basic question of, well, what evidence do we have that, particularly the ancient Greeks and the ancient Romans whistled or didn't whistle? And again, on one hand, it's hard to believe that they didn't, and Stackkellenberg points out that we know the Romans, for instance, had many songs for different occasions, and yet whistling would also probably have been considered vulgar and not something that a person of status would do compared to other sounds that one might make. Proper Romans were not even supposed to sing, for example, I did not know that, not me neither. And yet sta Kelenberg writes, quote, whistling a tune would therefore not have been compatible with the characters of many, if not most, of the persona in ancient literature. Apart from that, however, it is a remarkable fact that we also never meet a slave, a fisherman, pimp, or soldier whistling a tune, not even in comedy. So what sta Kellenberg is pointing out here is that, okay, if whistling is not the proper thing to do, it's not the thing that your heroes and your proper Romans would would have done. What about the improper characters in your various writings. Surely somebody would come along and they would whistle, and by whistling signify that they are an improper for a character and therefore deserving a ridicule or the villain of the piece, that sort of thing.

Yeah, yeah, I mean not when you look at what kind of Roman literature survives to us, it's not all lofty royal drama. You know. There are some really body satirical Roman literature that still exists today. And so you would expect the characters in this to engage in all manner of vulgarity that the Romans knew about.

Yeah, Like I think of our own cinematic history here. And also this gets in a literature as well. Spitting spitting on the ground in front of you generally considered uncouth, but in most circles, and yet you definitely see it a lot in cinema because it's a great way to establish that well, this character is a little rough around the edges, and I think the cowboy movies where their spitting, or Cormy McCarthy novels where there's a lot of spitting.

So what stick Kellenberg is saying is that even though we have Roman literature that has lower class characters and characters who are on nderstood as doing body and vulgar things, we never in the existing corpus see them whistling, or almost.

Never seems to be the case, though Sti Keelenberg does point out a few areas where we're not entirely sure, and this is where we get into the imprecise nature of language and translations. They point to a part in Petronius's Satiricon from the first century CE that describes a person who quote put his hand to his mouth and whistled out some terrible stuff I couldn't identify. Afterwards, he told us it was Greek air. Now it's apparently an open question if the proper translation is whistling, and if it is whistling, what are we really talking about? Is it whistling like or is it finger whistling where you create, you know, the loud sound by blowing through your fingers, or is this just bad singing the idea that you know some sounds are coming out of this person's mouth. They call it Greek air. It's just bad sin.

Oh I see. So like, in order to be insulting, you might describe someone singing as wheezing or something.

Yeah, that sort of thing. They point out that even today, a fictional character whistling often means that they're they're what like they think of a whistling character in a film you've seen. It often means they're care free, or they're happy, or they're perhaps a bit of a dufiss. Sometimes the whistling is like, what's going to happen to this poor dope that's just a whistling and a little unprepared for the circumstances ahead of them.

Does Buster scrugs whistle? I feel like I think he does.

I think he does, if memory serves you know. And the Coen Brothers Buster scugs the first bit in that anthology film. Yeah, he's this white suited cowboy who at first we think, yeah, he's just too he's just too much of a goodie two shoes. He's just going to be eat up by the world that he's riding into. And of course we find out that he's more than a match for the violence of the world.

Yeah, I guess that is the joke that he's like the whistling, singing cowboy, but he's also a cold blooded killer.

Yeah, that fab was short. I love that. But in any rate, we do see some variations on this. For instance, stakellerg points out that in Western literature we see whistling associated with the Squire and the Canterbury Tales in the fourteenth century. And this is a quote here singing he was or fluting all the day. This is from the prologue. And I guess the fluting here is what might be whistling.

Fluting without a flute. That's what I've always called whistling.

Stackellenberg points out that, okay, this character, though the Squire, is also a lusty lut, and we don't really see a precursor to this character type in Roman and Greek writing, but here we have an early example of the lusty lut who is also potentially whistling. Stackellenberg also raises the question of perhaps humming was more calm and then whistling, But the problem there is we also don't know much about humming and antiquity either. They write quote, whatever the case, whistling apparently formed no part of the parallinguistic stock used by Greek and Roman authors. This stock was considerable, as recent studies show, and a few studies are cited from the nineteen nineties and include such emotional indicators as jumping for joy and nail biting. So saying here that, okay, if you're going to have characters do things to indicate what's going on in their heads or what kind of emotions are supposed to be emoting on the stage or on the page, whatever the case may be, you're going to have things that are being used like jumping for joy, like nail biting, and yet there's no whistling. Now, they also get into this concept of whistling in the dark bit, which of course is a well worn turn of phrase for us, in which one whistles to stave off fear. One of my favorite examples of this, or at least one that I think I encountered the earliest and therefore always think about this is the Ichabod Crane and Headless Horseman cartoon from Disney. This was in nineteen forty nine, The Adventures of Ichabod and Mister Toad, though this would have been This was also a segment that was often aired on Disney TV Halloween specials, So there's definitely some whistling in the dark in that one, and of course it doesn't really work. Ultimately, the things in the dark come out to chase Ichabod Crane around.

Now, Rob, maybe we will get more into this in a subsequent part when we talk about some psychology. I'm not sure, but maybe. But anyway, I wonder what you think of the function of whistling in this type of scenario where you're afraid. Maybe you're wandering by yourself past a graveyard or wandering by yourself in the dark, and there's a breeze blowing through the trees and you're a little bit apprehensive, so you start to whistle. Now, I think the phrase like whistling past the graveyard or whistling in the dark is supposed to denote like somebody showing bravada. You know, they're saying they're like trying to show off that they're not afraid, when in fact they are. But what I noticed, and that comes up in the example I just mentioned, is that people often do this when they're alone, when there's nobody there to see them. Nobody to show off too. So if whistling is to show off that you're not afraid, it seems like the showing off must either be to yourself somehow or to like the scary creature that you imagine is watching you.

Yeah, it would have to be one or the other. But I guess in some of these cases, especially when you're thinking about graveyards, there's definitely an imagined other out there, and it might not be an imagined other that you give a lot of weight most of the time, but at least right now it's on your mind. So we're going to get into several different examples of whistling as a potential means of summoning or accidentally summoning or drawing the attention of things that should not be drawn in to your vicinity. So on one level, yeah, it seems a bit dangerous if you're going to actually fall in line with some of these supernatural beliefs, like I don't want to summon the devil if I'm afraid of the devil coming out of the graveyard at me. But maybe part of it is like proving not only am I not afraid of the devil in the graveyard, I'll go ahead and summon him. If he's here, he can come on out, and we'll go ahead and do this. But I'm done with just being afraid of the devil somewhere hiding in the graveyard.

Okay, But I guess the question is whether it's actually whistling or whether it's just singing or humming some version of this idea singing when you are afraid, or singing through the graveyard. Does this come up in ancient history as well? Do we have any evidence of this from thousands of years ago?

It seems like we might, s to Kellenberg brings up another example again from Petronius, and this is again from the satirra con and it also concerns a were wolf.

Did you know that there were ancient Roman stories about were wolves?

There absolutely are, Yeah, And this one's a pretty good one. This is I'm going to read part of it, at least. This is from a nineteen eighteen Heseltine translation. Quote. I seized my opportunity and persuaded a guest in our house to come with me as far as the fifth Milestone. He was a soldier and as brave as hell, so we trotted off about cockrow, the moon shone like high noon. We got among the tombstones. My man went aside to look at the epitaphs. I sat down with my heart full of song, and began to count the grades. Hmmm, so Stekelenberg writes the following on this, how tempting to interpret this scene as a clever application of psychological para language which has a superstitious and frightened slave indulged in an ancient equivalent of our whistling in the dark. Since the kenar represents many forms of musical expressions, we would even be justified in translating it here with whistling. Unfortunately, there is no straightforward indication that Petronius had this in mind.

Okay, so, despite the fact that our expression is often like whistling past the graveyard or whistling in the graveyard, this is a word cantare, which, in whatever its Latin form is, could have meant whistling, but could also just mean singing.

Right. Yeah, So again we get into the imprecise nature of language, which continues to be a theme with trying to figure out whistling or not whistling or making other sounds and various old texts.

You know this is kind of a tangent, but I feel like, since we're on the werewolf story, it would be kind of a shame not to tell the werewolf story. What happens in this story by Petronius here.

Okay, I can read the next little bit, which I think brings it to a nice closure. Then when I looked round at my friend, he stripped himself and put all his clothes by the roadside. My heart was in my mouth, but I stood like a dead man. He made a ring of water around his clothes and suddenly turned into a wolf. Please do not think I am joking. I would not lie about this for any fortune in the world. But as I was saying, after he had turned into a wolf, he began to howl and ran off into the woods. At first I hardly knew where I was. Then I went up to take his clothes, and they had all turned to stone. No one could be nearer dead with terror than I was. But I drew my sword and went slaying shadows all the way till I came to my love's house. I went in like a corpse, nearly gave up the ghost. The sweat ran down my legs. My eyes were dull, I could hardly be revived. My dear Melissa was surprised at my stake, at my being out so late, and said, if you had come earlier, you might at least have helped us. A wolf got into the house and worried all our sheep and let their blood like a butcher. But he did not make fools of us, even though he got off, for our slave made a hole in his neck with a spear. When I heard this, I could not keep my eyes shut any longer. But at break of day, I rushed back to my master Gaius's house like a defrauded publican. And when I came to the place where the clothes were turned into stone, I found nothing but a pool of blood. When I reached home, my soldier was lying in bed like an ox, with a doctor looking after his neck. I realized that he was a werewolf, and I never could sit down to a meal with him afterwards, not if you had killed me first. Other people may think what they like about this, but may all your guardian angels punish me if I am lying. Wow, that's pretty fun, pretty staple werewolf sort of story there.

It's a great werewolf story. But my biggest question is do oxes normally lie in human beds? What does he mean I was lying in my bed like an ox? Oh no, no, not him. My soldier was lying in bed like an ox.

Hmmm. I don't know. I'm not sure about that.

I feel like we're missing some kind of historical context there.

Yeah, I mean maybe it's like he's light, his body is like that of an ox. I don't know. I don't nothing comes to mind when I try and picture an ox laying down.

But yeah, it's really funny. How Okay, So this is the satiricon by Petronius is first century CE, so it's like two thousand years later, and werewolf movies are still using the exact same trope where somebody figures out it's a werewolf because they see the monster get wounded on a certain part of the body, and then later they see a human wounded on the same part of the body. That's in like half the werewolf movies they make.

Yeah, if it ain't broke, don't fix it, right. And I think if I've seen this in other animal transformation myths and stories before, like perhaps some wear tigers stories from China and so forth.

I agree it still works all right.

So for the next bit that sta Kellenberg gets into is that they break down a couple of things we've kind of we've at least touched on, if not already discussed, and when they break these out further later on. But we have a semaphoric whistling or whistling as a form of signaling, and this has been around for a very long time. This is something that goes back to archaic humans. Citing Peter f Otswald, they share quote, whistles are here to hear than words because they concentrate sound energy into a narrow segment of the frequency spectrum instead of spreading it. Generally, they occur in the frequency range of one thousand to four thousand cycles per second, to which the human ear is most sensitive.

Oh yeah, so this is the same fact that was cited in slightly different terms in that linguistics paper that we looked at in the previous section by Meyer that was about how whistling tends to be a good medium for transmitting information because it's in that frequency range of one to four killihertz, which is a good place to concentrate energy if you wanted to travel the forest and be audible and carry distinct information the longest distance, because that's like, that's that's sort of the bull's eye for what our ears can detect and separate out from ambient noise.

Now, the next part here is where things get very biblical, because Stekellenberg points out that the oldest reference to semaphoric use of whistling can be found in the Book of Isaiah five twenty six, where the lower whistles to summon people. He will raise a signal for a nation afar off and whistle for it from the ends of the earth, and lo, swiftly, speedily it comes.

So I started off looking into this just by checking it in my Oxford NRSV to see if the translation was different in any significant way, and it's not. That translation is almost exactly the same as what stck Kellenberg has here, But in reading it this passage, I thought I should explain more about the context because it makes that quote especially interesting and even scary. This is one of the most i think one of the most powerful and chilling passages in the Hebrew Bible. So what's going on here? Well, this is actually a prophecy of doom in this part of the Book of Isaiah. The author is pronouncing a verdict of divine judgment and punishment against the people of Israel and Judah, because he says they have ignored God's instructions and chosen to live in wickedness. So there's a section before this where he's just talking about the evil they do, and you might recognize some lines from this because they're pretty famous. The prophet says, ah you who call evil good and good evil, who put darkness for light and light for darkness, who put bitter for sweet and sweet for bitter, You who are wise in your own eyes and shrewd in your own sight, Ah you, who are heroes in drinking wine and valiant at mixing drink, who acquit the guilty for a bribe and deprive the innocent of their rights.

Oh man, God coming up strong against mixed drinks.

Here, Yeah, against mixed drinks and against bribing, so that the guilty win in court. But then it starts getting with the really scary expressive metaphors. From here it goes into Therefore, as the tongue of fire devours the stubble, and as dry grass sinks down in the flame, so their root will become rotten. And their blossom go up like the dust. For they have rejected the instruction of the Lord of Hosts, and have buys the word of the Holy One of Israel. Therefore the anger of the Lord was kindled against his people, and he stretched out his hand against them and struck them. The mountains quaked, and their corpses were like refuse in the streets. For all this his anger has not turned away, and his hand is stretched out still. Then comes the line about God whistling. From that it goes straight into he will raise a signal for a nation far away, and whistle for a people at the ends of the earth. Here they come swiftly, speedily, and in this line the people being referenced there, who are they? These are the armies of the Assyrian Empire, described in the following passages and terrifying detail. The prophet says, they march without rest. Their arrows are sharp, their horses hoofs are like flint, their wheels like a whirlwind. They roar like lions. They roar like the sea. And it in saying the light grows dark with clouds. And so the prophet is saying here that the Lord will whistle to summon an invading army to slaughter his people because they have done evil and turned away from him.

Wow. So first he just wrecks and destabilizes everything in this sinful nation, and then he calls to an invading army to come on over and finish him off.

Yes. And so the whistle here, I think that takes on a totally different context that makes it a whistle of absolute terror from on high. It is something that should chill you to the bone.

But then it gets even stranger because to Kellenberg points out that the Hebrew word for whistle here leaves some room for interpretation. And apparently there's still some discussion about this, with some arguing that what we're talking about here is indeed a whistle, but others say that it is a hiss, the hiss of God. Wow.

So you shared that fact with me earlier, and I don't know what to do. That is one of the scariest images I have ever heard of, the hiss of God.

I mean, the whistle is already scarier with the additional context that you provided here, but the idea of God God hissing, and especially in such a wrathful mode of behavior, Yeah, it's kind of chilling.

Okay, But so if there's some ambiguity in the translation here, I guess that would mean that whatever word is used has something to do clearly with an expressive expelling of breath.

Yeah, and that's the thing we're getting into breath language here and breath related sounds, and apparently in various ancient texts there's a fair amount of leeway and how we might think of a hiss or a whistle as it relates to not only human sounds, but also non human sounds like leaves, arrows in the wind. Quote, hissing and whistling, when produced by humans, results the same interaction between respiratory and oral agents. The only difference is that in hissing, the oral obstruction placed in the way of the airstream is the teeth, while in the case of whistling, it the lips. In antiquity, this difference was apparently felt as too slight for differentiation between the two sounds and for the establishment of separate terminology. The lack of differentiation continues in some of the daughter languages.

Wow, that's interesting, because so we're trying to understand the cultural significance of whistling, which, in our context very often means something like, you know, it's just kind of like innocent, care free sound making, whereas a hiss, I think, is almost universally acknowledged to be one of the most hostile sounds a person could make.

Yes, my son would hiss for a while. I forget where he picked this up, Like it's something animal world. You know, kids have this central affinity with animals. But I always approved of it because they're like, yes, if threatened, like hissing sends a certain signal like that, we're past language now. Now we're in the hissing hissing zone.

I am so mad at you. I've become an animal. I am a snake, I am a cat.

It was probably a cat connection for sure. Now. Sta Kelenberg points to various examples in Greek writings, including Homer, in which we also encounter this hiss whisper confusion. Both are nonverbal language substitutes, they point out, but there is still a distinct difference, at least to our modern understanding of all this. But yeah, it just becomes difficult to try and sort all of this out, especially in these ancient texts. Was this a whistle? Was this a hiss? Is this other thing. Are we describing the wind as hissing or as the wind whistling? How do we think of these? And that connection between whistling and the wind is important in other regards as well when we get into superstition and magic. But Sta Kellnberg also gets into some other areas that I hadn't even really thought about in connection to whistling. For instance, the subject of cat calls not to be confused with the wolf whistle. So this is interesting because I think I would tend to think when I hear cat calls, I tend to think of what sta Kelenberg is actually describing as the wolf whistle. So s to Kellenberg points out that we do have clear Roman references to the cat call, to some kind of whistling used offensively against actors, speakers, or performers in order to drive them off the stage. You don't like the performers on the stage, you don't like the speaker, will everybody just just sort of whistles at them? They just kind of use a bunch of these cat calls in order to drive them away.

So whistling as just straightforward harassment or abuse.

Yes, Cicero even makes reference to the Cicero of course, the famous orator who lived one o six through forty three PCE. Basically, it's a letter from Cicero to Atticus, and he's boasting about how popular he is and how the last time he gave a particular of speech he did not hear a single shepherd's whistle. So the idea is that he's referring to a complete absence of cat calls during his appearance because he was just so captivating. And apparently the language is key here, because if Cicero had been referring to hissing instead of whistling, he would have used a different particular bit of terminology.

Okay, So while earlier Sta Kellenberg was arguing that we don't have references to fictional characters in Roman literature whistling, there are some references to whistling in the in the broader sort of descriptive literature about society.

Yeah, and so first of all, this cat call area, which you know, my mind didn't go here immediately. And also I don't know that I've encountered this much. Maybe I just haven't been to performances in a while where were that were where there was like a negative audience experience that is. I don't think that's maybe where at least like modern Western audiences are going to go immediately if they want to express their negative feelings, like they're probably gonna boo or something.

Right, Yeah, I'd say booing is more common in American culture. Yeah, I've never heard an audience whistle as a form of disapproval.

Well, apparently it was such a thing that it was and still is, at least at the writing this was again written in two thousand, in the British theater, the whistling was just such a fear, like this would be the force trying to drive you off the stage. That whistling was just not done in a British theater dressing room, and it's possibly linked to this. Now it's to Kellnberg stresses that there seems to be a divide between whistling with the British stage and the American stage again as of two thousand. Anyway, when this was written, pointing out that Okay, sometimes it seems okay and positive for American audiences to whistle at the performers on stage, and this does click for me. I know, I've been to performances where there is a certain amount of whistling, clapping, wooing, you know, all sorts of different sounds that are made as a positive sound at the end of a performance, eululations as well. You know, various different nonverbal sounds. But this could include whistling, whereas in the British context you still wouldn't whistle. You might have gotten a dirty look from English theater goers if you were there whistling at the end of a performance of Shakespeare and you were trying to say, oh, this is great, I'm gonna whistle.

So you're saying that might have been interpreted by some as like praising a performance by yelling get off the stage.

Yeah yeah. Now, finally, stick Kellenberg gets to this topic of wolf whistling, which again is what I thought what a cat call was. But I guess I had my terminology mixed up on that. The wolf whistle is a whistle to indicate sexual interest, not unlike a cartoon wolf in an old animated short.

Now, I was reading a little bit about people trying to locate the origin of the wolf whistle, which is a specific intonation. It's like a rising whistle followed by a falling whistle. You can probably hear it in your head right now. And for a while there was an explanation going around that this was traceable back to specific whistles used on naval ships, that there was like a whistle with that intonation would be used to get sailor's attention. But I've also seen some undermining of that explanation, so I'm not sure if it's exactly known where the sexual harassment form of the whistle comes from.

Yeah, and when we go to look for evidence and antiquity, this is another case Whereasta Kellenberg says, there's just we just don't know. There's like one account of possible wolf whistling in Platyus's Mercator. This would have been from the very early fifth century, and it's unclear if it's a hiss or a whistle. Once again, it might have been a hit, so it might have been a hiss, could have been a whistle, some other sound of the mouth.

Even Okay, but Rob, I think we should switch over to talking about some of the superstitions about whistling, because whistling apparently is widely believed in many cultures to have some kind of power, often negative power, beyond just being perceived as rude or a form of harassment or something like that, that it actually could have dangerous magical power.

That's right. Yeah, there are numerous examples of this to discuss, and they have some similar trends. There's sort of the idea of whistling as wind magic, and therefore there are potential elemental ramifications for whistling, especially kind of reckless whistling. I guess that's what a lot of these team to get to the idea that when we whistle, we are engaging in some sort of wind magic, and we probably don't know what we're doing and the effects could just be completely out of control. Other ideas are that whistling is some sort of connection to the spirit world, and whistling can summon or attract the attention of things that we don't want the attention of, and so forth. Then there are also some other sort of environmental specific examples that get into the dangers of whistling.

You know, I don't have proof that this is the causal connection here, but I wonder if a lot of these beliefs about the supernatural power of whistling comes from the linguistic tradition of associating spirits with breath, you know, like in Greek, you would often use the same word to indicate both that like a person's breath leaving their body would be the numa, which is the same word you use to indicate a certain kind of animating divine spirit or like the holy ghost the numa.

Yeah, yeah, I imagine there might be something to that. Now. The first idea I want to touch on, though, it's just the idea of and this is a pretty big one, whistling at sea. And this is discussed in a paper by Christina Hole that is titled Superstitions and Belief of the Sea. This came out in a nineteen sixty seven edition of the journal Folklore, and in it she writes that at least in Western traditions, the whistle was just a bad omen as it created a little wind quote, and by imitative magic may produce a greater one. So you've got to be careful whistling because that whistle could turn into a fearsome gale that could blow the ship over, etc. And that's if men did it, and if women did it, it could be even worse. Because it's kind of like the idea it seems read very sexist here, it's kind of like, well, if men are at sea and they are near a boat and they're whistling, they might accidentally bring about a catastrophic wind that destroys everything. But if a woman's doing well, she might be a wind summoning witch.

She might actually know what she's doing, and that's even more dangerous.

Yes, So, either way, though, whistling at sea was bad luck for any by the rare exception hole rites is that you did have cases where you'd have sailors stuck at sea in a dead calm. So they're out there on the ship and there's no wind, the ship is not moving. It's the opposite of the threat of the catastrophic wind. It's the threat of no wind and a slow death out on the waters. So in some of these cases there are accounts of the of sailors daring to make like small whistles, slight whistles, in the hopes that they'll stir up just enough wind to get them out of this predicament.

Oh, this is the scene from the horror movie where a character is in such a jam that they have no choice but to do the dangerous ritual that they have been warned against by a wise old person. Yeah, so I thought this was an interesting paper in general, this one by Christina Hole, and she argues that the sea is a place where old, otherwise long vanished tensions between gods and religions tend to rise up again. And part of the explanation here is that for many Pagans, the sea not only had a god, but in a sense kind of was a god. It was like a living entity with thoughts and desires and whims, and the sea brought both blessings and curses. It's, you know, it's the bringer of riches, but it can also destroy, and for this reason probably God's embodying the sea are often depicted as temperamental, unpredictable, alternately generous and murderous. And one interesting fact I'd never heard before, but Hole talks about how in European seafaring traditions for hundreds of years, priests, nuns, and clergy have been considered bad luck on the sea, like you don't want to carry monks or nuns on board. And she even tells a story of a sea voyage taken by a friend of hers, which, when I think it was crossing the Atlantic, had some Trappist monks on board and the sailors were blaming the monks for the fact that there was bad weather and the boat kept rolling and everybody was nauseated and throwing up. So in many cases, you're on a boat, and not only do you not want to be carrying monks or nuns or whatever, you don't even want to say a word like priest. So why would that be You would think? Okay? And these are Christian sailors, so they would at least probably think that the clergy would be a good omen, not a bad. But the author here speculates as follows quote, these beliefs have nothing to do with anti clerical feeling, and many who hold them are devout Christians. When on land, they probably run back to that transition period when Paganism was slowly giving way to Christianity, and many people, especially those who like sailors, led a dangerous life, had a foot in both camps, acknowledging christ on shore but taking care not to offend the old gods when at sea. Moreover, whatever was wholly and consecrated was once regarded as a center of mystical power, which was as likely to be dangerous as to be beneficent, and was therefore to be guarded against and so, of course that's just an interpretation. We don't know that's the reasoning here. It's always hard to get at the ultimate reasoning for folk beliefs, but that seems plausible to me, and I really like that. It's the idea that there's a power in it, and just the fact that there's a power in it is dangerous. Even if the priest is supposedly the good guy based on your current religious beliefs, just the fact that the priesthood is a center of power makes it potentially dangerous when you're in a dangerous situation like the sea. And I think you could maybe say the same thing of whistling itself, that whistling is perceived as having a power, and therefore, even if the power isn't always evil, it's just the fact that there is the power in it that makes it scary.

Yeah. Yeah, all this on top of just sort of the other idea of falling back into older beliefs when things heat up when you're in a dangerous place, and of course, again this is the ocean, It is inherently dangerous. Therefore, yeah, you can imagine this this not only this idea of like I'm going to slide back into old belief systems because I feel like there's heightened danger. But I wonder too if if you have more specific gods and traditions that you can fall back on. Whereas you know, the New Christianity it might not it might not have any like specific things you can do to avoid a watery death. But the old ways they might have had particular rights, particular things you could do, things you were not supposed to do, a path you might follow through the uncertain which I think, you know, I think some of us might be able to relate to that in a modern sense too. Like it's you can have more of an atheistic mindset when you're on the airplane and there's no turbulence, But when the turbulence kicks in, well what can you do? You might you might let a prayer slip out here or there, just because you know, if there is nothing practically you can do in that scenario beyond you know, the safety parameters, then there are these other scripts you can turn to, these other models of reality that at least give you, like somewhere to devote your attention. And just from the standpoint of the ocean, I mean, we could easily come back and discuss these at greater length. You get their other whole lists of various bad luck omens that include things like, of course the albatross is tied up in some of these, but also things like bananas, and then various interesting touch based positive good luck like everyone has to touch the same part of the ship, that sort of thing collar touching. I think cats end up playing a role in some of these. So yeah, it's a whole interesting world of like the heightened danger of the sea and some of the superstitious approaches to survival on the sea.

Apparently seeing a drowned cat was one of the worst omens, she says, that would sometimes make people just turn around and go back. Oh wow, oh, but come back to whistling. Another thing that Christina Hole says here is that whistling is not just a locusts of superstition on the sea. There seem to be all kinds of fears about the power of whistling even on land.

Right, and that she gets into this idea again that whistling may attract the attention of things that you don't want to attract. And some of these relate to the sea, some are more related to the land. She points that in the East Anglian Fins, sportsmen out at night never whistle to their dog because they might call up the lantern man, which would have been a type of willow the wisp creature that you did not want attracted to your whereabouts.

Yeah, fire fiend. And you know what, I wonder if there is just a general similar line of thinking, or if it could actually be based in that biblical passage about you know again, one of the oldest references to whistling as a signal to like attract a tension is God whistling to attract the attention of a ravaging army that will come and destroy you.

Yeah. Now, in terms of this is an interesting one. This one is when I read and Carol Rose and her Compendium of Monsters, she points to the murrhman known as the denny Maara that was considered a threat in some cases by the people of the Isle of Man, the Manx people generally the man of the sea. That Denniemara was generally more benevolent than other forms of the myth, because you have you have some truly awful mirror creatures out there in the world of folklore. But this one in particular, though if you were to whistle, you could stir him up and cause excess wind. So on one hand, it's kind of a supernatural creature whose attention you might get through whistling. But also we get back into the basic wind magic of the thing, like, be careful whistling. You're toying with the wind magic. And you're at sea, and that's where the wind is particularly dangerous and the least little thing can stir it up. Hole mentions another omen related to whistling, and that is the omen of the seven Whistlers. And this from her description, it sounds basically like a particular chorus of bird song that would spell disaster for those who heard it, particularly say before a battle. Now, coming back at least briefly to Stakelenberg, sta Kellenberg points to Roman writer Colomela, who shares that whistling could be used to encourage oxen to drink, which sta Kellenberg links to the possible sound similarities between whistling and flowing water. So again, instead of the wind, this time we're talking about water, and we're talking about the similarities of the sound. Here this idea seems to have survived into English traditions concerning horses at least into the sixteenth century.

Well wait, so if you're an ancient Roman, you can whistle to make oxen drink, But will that make oxen lie in your bed?

I'm not certain about that.

Now, somebody who has Roman history knowledge it, can you explain the ox in the bed metaphor to us? I want to know what that means.

It is interesting, though, to think about this idea of like the whistle as a sound that is imitating not birds or other organisms, but but imitating elemental forces the wind or in this case, the water, and therefore allowing just the average person to tap in to those the streams of terrific and at times, you know, catastrophic energies.

Well, I would also say the same thing for hissing. Hissing kind of takes away your humanity. You're you're you don't sound like a person speaking or expressing an opinion. You sound like a hostile animal or even a hostile landscape.

I guess sometimes there is hissing in theater, right, like a.

Negative Yeah, that's hiss at the villain. Yeah, yeah, you know, you boo hiss when the ago comes on stage or whatever.

Yeah, Yeah, all right, we're we're looking at the clock now and we realize that we're out of time for this episode, but oh, we still have a lot more. So we're going to go to a four parter on whistling, but we got some great stuff to come back to. We're going to dive back in a bit to some Eastern traditions of magic and whistling. We're going to discuss some more examples of whistling, superstition and folklore, and then oh, we're going to get into the psychology of whistling a bit as well.

Does the spirit dwell within you if it does come back and expel that breath one more time?

Yeah? Is it okay to whistle while you work? Should we be listening to dwarves on this matter to begin with? Well, it'll all be discussed in the next episode. In the meantime, if you would like to check out other episodes of Stuff to Blow Your Mind, our core episodes published on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and the Stuff to Blow Your Mind podcast feed. On Wednesdays we do a short form artifact or monster effect. On Mondays we do listener mail, and on Fridays we set aside most serious concerns and just focus on a weird film and weird house cinema.

Huge thanks as always to our excellent you producer, Seth Nicholas Johnson. If you would like to get in touch with us with feedback on this episode or any other, to suggest a topic for the future, or just to say hello, you can email us at contact at stuff to Blow your Mind dot com.

Stuff to Blow Your Mind is production of iHeartRadio. For more podcasts from my heart Radio, visit the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you're listening to your favorite shows.

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