A Short Note on Javanese Daily-ness

Having read Josef Prijotomo’s last two entries (Space in Text, Space in Architecture, and Fart and Mount Mahameru), I notice one thing: for the Javanese, what they encounter and experience on daily basis is what matters. As such, their perception of space is determined (if I may use the word “determined” hereby) by their daily experiences and perceptions.

This also reminds me with Prijotomo’s book, (Re-)Konstruksi Arsitektur Jawa; Griya Jawa dalam Tradisi Tanpatulisan (Wastu Lanas Grafika, Surabaya, 2006), which I made a review upon, which was eventually published on The Jakarta Post (The Conundrum in Explaining “Non-literal” Text, May 13th, 2007). In this book, it is explained that the space of a Javanese structure is formed by the roof (the roof provides shading; the shade is where the space be). Yes, it looks so obvious. But Javanese are not Platonic people. Hence Nietzsche was German instead of Javanese.

The book also explains how a Javanese house (griya) embodies Javanese knowledge. The way the house is constructed disseminates this knowledge on various aspects. A house is, of course, a daily thing.

So is a fart. It is a profane and daily thing. Perhaps it is precisely its “banality” (that is, its daily-ness) that prompted the creator of Semar character to decide Semar’s ultimate weapon is his fart. And Semar became a character in wayang, which is also a part of Javanese daily life. Being a part of daily-ness (being a medium of entertainment), wayang acts as a tool for disseminating knowledge—just like a house.

Perhaps daily-ness is also the factor behind Majapahit’s era perspective (refer to my entry on Javanese perspective as demonstrated by an archaeologist on his paper). The perspective found on carved relief panels of Majapahit candis (such as Candi Sukuh) represents none other than what a Javanese person perceives when she/he gazes across a space. It is not a space perceived through a religious or metaphysical point of view. It is simply what one actually perceives visually.

Prijotomo’s writing on space in Javanese text also touches upon daily-ness. On daily basis, one sees various phenomena. One does not only witness one phenomenon. Things sacred and things profane, thing logical and things absurd, are present simultaneously in our daily experiences. As such, differentiation through segregation is not necessary. In daily-ness, one can see differences within knitted, yet varying, phenomena. Therefore, Javanese text does not necessitate having a space between two words; two different things do not have to be segregated, for in daily occurrences different things happen simultaneously.

Daily-ness is perhaps a key to understand Javanese perception, and understanding, of space. Perhaps this is a theoretical subject that can only be understood not by reading books on architectural theories, but by experiencing the spaces as daily phenomena.

One thing that needs to be considered is epistemology. Reason alone is incapable to understand the subject of Javanese space. It seems that for Javanese, reason cannot act alone to perceive and understand. Daily-ness includes senses. Hence Semar’s fart becomes something that forms space, according to Prijotomo.

On this matter of epistemology, comparison can be done by putting Javanese and Western epistemologies side by side, if we need to contrast them. But in order to get similarities, we may compare Javanese epistemology with that of—for instance—Islamic society in medieval Middle East. It is interesting that thinkers such as Ibn Sina (Avicenna, in Latin form) proposed something similar to Javanese epistemology: reason alone is incapacitated to perceive and comprehend things. There are also others, beside reason, that one has to use in order to perceive and understand things; others such as will and senses.