Deadly Powers: Animal Predators and the Mythic Imagination

by Paul A. Trout, Barbara Ehrenreich (Foreword)

In this illuminating and evocative exploration of the origin and function of storytelling, the author goes beyond the work of mythologist Joseph Campbell, arguing that mythmaking evolved as a cultural survival strategy for coping with the constant fear of being killed and eaten by predators. Beginning nearly two million years ago in the Pleistocene era, the first stories, Trout argues, functioned as alarm calls, warning fellow group members about the carnivores lurking in the surroundings. At the earliest period, before the development of language, these rudimentary "stories" would have been acted out. When language appeared with the evolution of the ancestral human brain, stories were recited, memorized, and much later written down as the often bone-chilling myths that have survived to this day. This book takes the reader through the landscape of world mythology to show how our more recent ancestors created myths that portrayed animal predators in four basic as monsters, as gods, as benefactors, and as role models. Each incarnation is a variation of the fear-management technique that enabled early humans not only to survive but to overcome their potentially incapacitating fear of predators. In the final chapter, Trout explores the ways in which our visceral fear of predators is played out in the movies, where both animal and human predators serve to probe and revitalize our capacity to detect and survive danger. Anyone with an interest in mythology, archaeology, folk tales, and the origins of contemporary storytelling will find this book an exciting and provocative exploration into the natural and psychological forces that shaped human culture and gave rise to storytelling and mythmaking.

Genres: Nonfiction

325 pages, Hardcover

First published January 1, 2011

Reviews

[Boria Sax · Rating 3 out of 5]

In Deadly Powers, Trout argues that religious awe is ultimately a sublimation of terror, going back to the days when early human beings and their ancestors were easy prey for large carnivores. This makes the history of humankind an epic tale of our gradual ascent up the proverbial "food chain." We attempted to conciliate the powerful beasts of prey, as well as to partially identify with them. It is an exciting tale featuring gods, demons, serpents, and megafauna of the Pleistocene, and Trout tells it very well. At times, however, he seems to be so involved in this narrative that he neglects to check it against the facts. Contrary to what Trout claims, the carnivores such as the big cats do not dominate in cave paintings. Herbivorous animals such as cattle and deer are at least as prominent. Some large predators such as wolves are rare. The earliest known shrines at Catal Huyuk do not feature large predators so much as grazing animals such as bulls and smaller ones such as foxes. Trout supports his thesis with erudition that is vast but not very systematic. He discusses totemism, for example, as descent of a tribe from an animal, without mentioning the criticism of that notion by Claude Levi-Strauss and others. This is a stimulating book and a lot of fun to read, but I find the thesis unconvincing.

[Trekscribbler · Rating 5 out of 5]

DEADLY POWERS Explores Man’s Ultimate Relationship to Myth

I’ve never been one to believe in evolution. Now, before you tune me off, just hear me out for a moment. I’ve never believed much in it because I’ve never truly understood how man – as a modern creature – couldn’t psychologically have grown from, say, some earlier creature. Sure, I’ve seen the popularized picture – the ape to the upright man – but I’ve never grasped how the human mind – arguably the greatest instrument toward reason that we know of in the universe – could possibly be ignorant of where it came from. I’ve read enough to know that there’s still the possibility of a ‘missing link’ in the established evolutionary chain; still, fully understanding where the human brain and the powers of cognition figured into the whole equation was always a bit nebulous to me.

(As I’ve already established in other reviews, I’m no science nerd.)

It is precisely because of my unique place in the universe that I found myself immeasurably fascinated with Paul A. Trout’s DEADLY POWERS: ANIMAL PREDATORS AND THE MYTHIC IMAGINATION.

I’ve always been fascinated with myths. Creation myths. Roman myths. Greek myths. Indian myths. Various tribal myths. I think that’s because I’ve always believed that – trapped somewhere deep within a rationed and reasoned exploration of man’s earliest stories – there has remain hidden slivers of reality. Once we can crack open this last crystal of secret knowledge, we can fully examine the pieces in order to unlock a truer understanding of where we began – as a people. I think Mr. Trout would agree with that premise, as, in his new book, he goes against popular convention regarding the evolution of storytelling (aka “myths”) to assert that mankind, first and foremost, didn’t begin its collective experience at the top of the food chain; rather, it was probably somewhere very near the bottom.

This is what most fascinated me about DEADLY POWERS. Rather than dissecting the earliest myths to give them clarity for the time in which they were told, Trout reaches very astutely back to what mankind’s first experiences more likely were – that of being the prey running from vastly more threatening predators – and he uses those frights and horrors to establish man’s earliest understanding (feeble it may’ve been) for the role he played in that environment. How many times must these early men and women have watched others from their tribe fall prey to giant tigers or lions or bears? How futile may their hopes have been for survival? How would these experiences have played out with their limited cognitive ability? What did early man learn from this, and how would they then pass this knowledge on to others as well as successive generations? It only stands to reason that myths would’ve sprung out of these early terrors – the kind of myths that teach survival when survival seems near impossible; and it only stands to reason that subsequent myths would’ve incorporate threads and hints back to these prehistoric fears so that those sentiments could’ve been preserved for the generations that followed.

Trout goes to modest lengths to provide an overview of these earlier predators that man would’ve shared space with (mostly running away from!), giving the reader only a glimpse at the treacherous Pleistocene era and thereafter. From there, he gives a solid rundown of fear triggers and responses know to man, even showing how some of these behaviors may’ve evolved from or have been heavily influenced by these early predators. As these early men developed languages and began to think with ‘metacognition’, Trout explores how a fragile psychology could’ve attached feelings of kinship, guardianship, and even godhood to such carnivores. Lastly, he ties his theory all up in the complete package by highlighting how all of these factors coalesced into perhaps the single greatest influence within mankind’s ability to create myths – myths with meaning and purpose and stories to convey for the benefit of those who learn them and carry them forward to future generations.

As I hope I’ve conveyed, it’s a fascinating exploration, mostly because it fills in what I’ve always thought was a bit of a gap in understanding the what’s, where’s, and why’s mankind first decided to begin telling a story; certainly, it all could’ve begun with a very simple purpose in mind – saving one’s skin. That’s a very significant influence when you’re little more than a tasty morsel being given a healthy look-over by the nearest lion. It’s all told briskly and, thankfully, in very relatable prose. If you’re a student of myths, then I would imagine you’d be equally pleased as I was.

So … was mankind the original roadkill in the history of Earth? Was he nothing more than tomorrow’s leftovers for yesterday’s animal kingdom? Trout makes a convincing argument, and it’s one that comes with my highest recommendation.

In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to share that the kind folks of Prometheus Books provided me with a press copy for the purposes of completing this review.

[Stephen Lowe · Rating 5 out of 5]

Reading Period: Jan 18 - Feb 13, 2020

I signed this book out from our local library, wherein it appeared in a display on mythology. As a writer and storyteller with an interest in mythology and with a need to better understand the role of the predator and how it affects storytelling, for a creative writing project I’m working on, I am so happy to have found this book.

I’m working on a Kaiju story set in the near-future and as research fodder I’ve been watching the Legendary Pictures version’s of Godzilla (2014), Kong: Skull Island, and Godzilla: King of Monsters. Not only was I seeing the very concepts Trout writes about put to use before me, but I could see the reasons they were, too. In G:KOTM there are predator/prey behaviours shows between the creatures, but you also experience the prey experience and see the keynote predator behaviours he details - an assistance for the viewer to recognize predator behaviours.

This lead me to two surprising realizations:

The process of moving from a prey species to a predator species, which is mirrored in our mythology, legends and religion finds its ultimate expression in the concept that we were created as the fully formed humans we are now - as an alpha-predator - an act that removes us from the web of life as a partner in the ecosystem, to that as a creature separate from it and above it, with the right to destroy whatever we like. What’s interesting to me about this is as immigrant westerners to North America with the influence of religion for centuries, the creatures were put on earth for us as resources. But the First Nations people see that relationship differently: we are stewards of the natural world, meant to be protectors. This idea is derivative of understanding our place in the natural order, as part of the web of life, not apart from it.

The other thing I realized is that in our current political climate, the President of the United States has taken on the role of alpha predator, and the Republican politicians who support him have become like those whom Trout mentions who behave like the predator so they need not fear it, sacrifice others to the predator to placate it, and revere the predator so it will favour them. Meanwhile, Trump is instilling fear of the predator in others by portraying the Democrats as vicious predators themselves in an effort to portray them and their allies and followers as the dangerous ‘other’ and to rally his supporters to his cause in order to create group strength and defence.

I think Trout is right in his assertion that we’ve participated in this long journey from prey species to predator species, that we’ve used to process of mimesis in order to evoke that transformation, which is why we can bolster our courage by holding our posture in a brave pose and acting like we are brave, though we are not. We become the thing we are not by imitating the behaviours of that thing.

I’m happy to have read this book and hope you enjoy it as much as I have, and find it as useful as I have.

[Joseph F. · Rating 3 out of 5]

Trout covers a neglected area in the study of our origins: that ugly fact that at one time in our early history, we were food. Before we learned to hunt, we were prey. The world during the Pleistocene was a scary place; predators were everywhere and they were bigger and badder than they are today. This of course led to the strong possibility that humans must have had a severe fear of being gobbled up and turned into shit. The book is an exploration of how early humans, with the help of myths and their mimetic performances, might have led to us lessening our fears. By controlling our fears and learning how to survive predatory attacks, the way was paved to how we went from prey to predator.
Suddenly, all of those myths we grew up with ( monsters that must be slain, or bloodthirsty gods that need sanguinary sacrifices), seem to make sense. We dealt with our fears by seeing predators in different ways: monsters that needed slaying by a hero, gods, benefactors, and finally, beings to be emulated.
It's an interesting theory, but I had some issues with how myths were sometimes used to illustrate a point. The author would come to a conclusion, then use some myths to support it. Then he would make another point, and use different myths to illustrate that. It's easy to cherry pick myths to support a position, there are so many myths out there!
Also, some stories are simply wrong. for example, on page 22 he says that humans can only appear after the gods killed Fenris, Garm and Jormungand (in Norse mythology). Not really. These monsters had only to be kept in check by the gods in order for humans to live and thrive. It's only when the gods themselves die that these monsters are killed. But that is a future happier world that has not yet arrived.
On page 244, he says that Ino and Shiva kill and flay their victims with their nails. What?! Ino is a minor Greek goddess of the sea, and Shiva is the Hindu god who kills demons with his trident or his third flaming eye. Maybe there are a few myths out there that I'm not familiar with. But if they exist, they must be fairly minor, and it is another example of the author scraping the bottom of the barrel to illustrate a point.
On page 262, he says that Sigurd the hero wears a wolf skin and becomes deranged into thinking he's a wolf. I read the Saga of the Volsungs, and it is not Sigurd that undergoes the wolf transformation.
I know I know, I'm being pedantic. But I love my myths and I want people to get them right damn it!
Despite my criticisms, the author's thesis is enjoyable to read and holds up pretty well. It would have been nice to have included a time line of early human evolution. Many people are not familiar with our development, and the author literally covers a period spanning a few million years.

[Bc · Rating 3 out of 5]

A well written exploration of human behavior based on the fear of being eaten. Could be and should be basic reading in any number of disciplines.