Category Archives: Lesson 1

1.3: Evil’s Story

Posted on by
11

I have a great story to tell you. And it’s about me, Evil.

Yes, me, Evil. My name is Evil. You might have heard of me. Faint whispers in the dark, that cold breeze that tangles your hair into knots and draws marks on your skin, and that eerie feeling you get looking too long into someone’s eyes.

I came to this world all on my own. Not with Good. Everybody always pairs me up with Good. And Good always gets all the credit. It’s always “Good conquers Evil” or “Good wins in the end”. I never seem to be able to get rid of Good. It’s like an itch way down in a place you can’t reach – annoying and frustrating. I was here first, not Good. Or God. Whatever you want to call Good.

But anyway, I’m Evil. Not Good. Don’t get us confused.

Don’t get me confused with my friends either. Lust is great and beautiful – all kinds of positive – but she is a little excessive at times. She’ll have you on your knees, begging for more and then, she’ll flake on you. Just like that. She’ll disappear and you’re left with empty hands and empty pockets.

Gluttony will probably fill that emptiness. He’ll shower you with the richest, warmest foods. Food that drips with hot, sweating oil, and smells that fill the whole room until you’re suffocating for fresh air.

Greed is good friends with Gluttony. They’re very similar, except Greed hates to share. She has so much money that it would make Smaug salivate until the fire inside of him goes out.

And if you want to learn how to get absolutely nothing done, find Sloth. He’s always in his room. I don’t think he’s even seen the light of day. Come to think of it, I can’t remember the last time I’ve seen him.

But, of course, I can’t forget about Wrath. Don’t ever forget about Wrath or you’ll have to face him. And he is not a pretty sight.

Envy and Pride are two peas in a pod. They work well as a unit, always trying to rise to the top and always looking down their noses at everyone else. They are very good at what they do and will do almost anything to obtain what they want. Be wary of them, but aim to be them. That’s my advice.

So be careful. Don’t get me confused with Good and my seven deadly friends. They will tell you things – crazy stories – and you won’t know what to believe. And you will be left with dreams and half-awake fantasies of the unimaginable, teetering on the edges of sense and nonsense. Don’t listen to them, trust me, because once you do, you won’t be able to forget them.

So let me tell you my story. It’s better than any story you will ever hear from lousy Good or any of my lousy friends. It’s a story that’s won me many contests, especially with the Witches of Silko who are always looking for the best, the scariest, and the most kingly of things. It was so great they told me to take it back; they wanted to forget it. I’m guessing so I could tell them all over again.

So sit down, get comfortable, and listen. I have a great story to tell you.

*

I wrote this version of the story intending to replicate the same reaction I had with the original retelling of Leslie Silko’s story by Thomas King. Of course, I wrote it in a much more overt way than the way King told it. After telling the story to my two younger sisters, I got the reaction I wanted. And felt –well – an evil glee upon witnessing their expected pain of not knowing what the “great story” is. I found an irony in not knowing exactly what the story full of “murderous mischief” was and designed my story in the same way. Truly, this is one form of evil: hooking someone in with words and promises and never fulfilling them.

 

References

King, Thomas. The Truth about Stories: A Native Narrative. Toronto: House of Anansi, 2003. Print.

1.2: Meaning is in the Mind of the Beholder

Posted on by
14

What if blue is not blue? Who decided blue would be called blue? What if the person who decided blue was blue looked up at the sky during the night and decided the night sky was blue?

There is a 55-hectare spaced land in the centre of Richmond which has been under much ownership debate for many years.

These are some questions I wondered about after watching a clip from BBC Horizon about the Himba tribe. The people of the Himba tribe see colours differently from English speakers. It’s amazing to realize how impactful words can be on us as humans and how it can change the way we perceive the world. For the Himba, it is easy to distinguish which green is which compared to the English speaker. There was no hesitation and no questioning. That particular “green” was different from the other “greens”.

J. Edward Chamberlin says in his book, If This Is Your Land, Where Are Your Stories? Finding Common Ground, “living in the real word depends on our living in our imaginations” (125). I believe when he says this that he is suggesting there is no real solid divide between reality and imagination. He calls the choice of choosing between these two “false choices”. Each reality is different for each one’s imagination.

There are many words for things in reality that don’t exist in the English language. One of the most common struggles I have growing up using Cantonese as my other language is trying to explain to non-Cantonese speakers in English about something that seems to only exist in the Cantonese language. Take example the word “nonsense”. In English, it means something that either has no meaning or sense, or behaviour that is foolish or unacceptable. However, in Cantonese, mo liu means that and more. It’s a feeling too. You can feel mo liu or you can feel something is mo liu. You can’t really feel nonsense in English. Something can seem nonsensical, but can you really feel it?

Non-Cantonese speakers probably don’t know what I’m babbling about. I don’t expect them to. Maybe there is a way to explain mo liu in one perfect English word or phrase, but I just don’t know it yet. For now, the reality of that feeling only exists to me and other speakers of the Cantonese language.

Chamberlin touches upon briefly the hypothesis of linguistic relativity, or what is called the Sapir-Whorf hypothesis. It is the idea that language can shape our thought processes and thus the way we see the world. I would argue that language can help to shape the way we see the world, or at least how we name or describe it. Even without a word, things exist but with a word to name it, these things seem clearer and closer to understanding. Chamberlin writes, “Naming things is one of the oldest forms of storytelling” (127).

Ultimately, Chamberlin’s goal is to find common ground. This is difficult when we feel the need or are forced to choose these “false choices” – between what is common ground and what is not. I don’t believe there can ever be a true common ground where everyone agrees what something should be (or, say, what English word best represents mo liu). It is why when Canadians are asked, “What is a Canadian?” you can get about a hundred and four different answers. Some are agreed upon and some are not. But they are all valid representations of what a Canadian is – according to the answerer.

I am privileged to have two languages and to be able to see the world through several lenses. I do not see the world exactly the same way as my mother or my father, but they gave me my language and my Chinese culture. The fact that I can think something is nonsense as well as feel it as mo liu, brings me closer to the reality that I imagine for myself everyday.

I don’t believe common ground is the attempt to find similarities while discounting the differences, or choosing what is considered important to keep as shared values. But rather common ground is being able to understand and acknowledge the many words a language can create for someone. And also understanding how each language, or culture, exists at the same time and is all relevant to everything in its own unique way.

Just because you think it is nonsense, does not mean it is nonsense to another.

 

 

References
Chamberlin, J. Edward. If This Is Your Land, Where Are Your Stories?: Finding Common Ground. Toronto: Vintage Canada, 2003. Print.
Lilienfeld, Scott O. “Linguistic Relativity: Language Gives Thought A Gentle Nudge.” Psychology: From Inquiry to Understanding. Boston: Pearson/Allyn & Bacon, 2011. 347. Print.

1.1: Oh Hello

Posted on by
6

There are many voices in every story, even if you can only hear one. Coming from a rather loud family with two other sisters, I know what it’s like to almost hear half a dozen voices at once and attempt to pick which one to listen to or not.

My name is Cristabel Koo, but you can call me Crista. I’m a fourth year student majoring in English literature and minoring in sociology. I have recently taken a seminar course on Canadian autobiographies and most (pretty much all) of my knowledge on Canadian literature is from that awesome class. However, before that, I came into my studies initially interested in gender and sexuality discourses in literature, or what is called Queer Theory. Yet as I progressed in my studies, I was reminded how, as gender and sexuality is fluid, other matters of intersectionality flow into these realms as well. I was not only realizing the flexibility of gender and sexual identity, but how identity is also impacted by cultural landscapes.

Wah’s book is written like an autobiography and talks about his life growing up in his father’s diner. It’s a bit of a tough read but I have the idea that Wah is a tough guy and that’s pretty cool.

As a Canadian born Chinese, my experiences in Canada would differ from common historical narratives found in Western colonialist culture. Fred Wah’s Diamond Grill is one of those stories I can relate to. He writes about living in the hyphen, or in a place that straddles the doorways of whiteness and Chineseness and how that all comes together to create what he sees as Canadian. Attempting to understand where you are and who you are in certain places is something I feel that is common in forming Canadian identity.

On the same vein, English 470A Canadian Studies will explore the experiences of European and Indigenous Canadians and how these experiences are passed on through literature and oral tradition. These stories can be used to cement canons of Canadian literature or even at times, break them down in order to create new narratives. These narratives help to create a sense of identity, or in relation to the course, a Canadian identity. However, it is important to understand Canadian identity is not one solid idea. It is many and goes beyond just Western colonizing narratives. As Northrop Frye writes, the “Canadian identity has been profoundly disturbed, not so much our famous problem of identity […] but by a series of paradoxes in what confronts that identity.” These paradoxes being the many differing and conflicting histories and experiences of Canadians. The course will focus on how each voice and story has a legitimate part in creating a Canadian literary canon – more specifically, whose voice and story is heard, or unheard, and whose histories makes it into the canon.

Really Professional Photo taken from my very professional iPhone at the Museum of Anthropology

This brings in the debated idea of authenticity and legitimacy of Canadianism. We are often surrounded by First Nations art – from the Canucks logo to the walkway entering Canada when you arrive from international flights at the YVR Airport – but the stories of these artworks are not always heard. And I am guilty of looking at them with an air of distance and I know it can seem non-Canadian to some. Last term, I attended a mini-class field trip in one of my sociology courses. We visited the Museum of Anthropology on campus. There, the guide walked us through the artwork and artefacts displayed and spoke  of how often people have complained about the legitimacy of contemporary Aboriginal artwork being mixed in with the “traditional”. Upon starting this course, I am reminded of the tour guide’s story and how it raised the question of what can be considered “real” or authentic Aboriginal artwork and what is not. What is Canada then? Who is a Canadian and who is not? Whose work is allowed to pass the mark and whose isn’t? I’m hoping this course will add on to these questions that are very difficult to answer (and probably have no single all-defining answer) and to help me gain knowledge and understanding of the perspectives of European and Indigenous Canadians.

 

References
Frye, Northrop. “Conclusion to a Literary History of Canada.” The Bush Garden: Essays on the Canadian Imagination. Toronto: Anansi, 1971. 213-51.
Wah, Fred. Diamond Grill. Edmonton: NeWest, 2006. Print.