Preamble: One two. One author. Two styles. Different messages.
When I was young there were always kept animals. In the beginning there were two cats bold and wanderer – one run off. Then comes up a pup-dog with old brother. Next comes me and a mouse, then my next brother and he was named mouse. Then comes another cat, a crafty one. Last comes a dog… but not a full dog. He’s half-coyote. and full crafty and passes through walls. A proper coydog.
I always grew up with animals. My folks inherited two cats before they had any kids. When my older brother was born one of the cats ran off and they soon-after bought a golden retriever. A quintessential family of kids and a puppy. Then I was born. When I was young I had a pet mouse, kept the fish (in a pond), and eventually became responsible for a stray cat. Next was my younger brother, he wanted a dog. And so long it was not a puppy my father conceded. A week later there was a fast, mischievous, and far too intelligent puppy cruising around the yard. He was from the pound and was found abandoned in a box – he was the unplanned offspring from the copulation of a coyote and a German Sheppard so we were told. This would make him an infamous coydog. We have never had him genetically screened and while it is biologically possible for coyotes and dogs to procreate it is generally accepted in the scientific community that this is not the case.
It is truly strange how syntax, lexicon, vernacular, and rhythm all change dramatically when one adopts an oral style story to written word. Truly, it is only when it is read allowed does it make sense in the way it was meant. An oral story written seems to lack the believable, or “truth” of literature.
Dealings with Coyote
When I first read “Coyote Makes a Deal with King of England” I was lost, confused, and having a terrible time trying to understand it. I kept finding myself lost on the page – those moments when you are reading and your eyes continue but your brain wanders. Perhaps it was the vernacular or the confusing interchange of “he” and “they” for identifying Coyote in the text. Suffice it to say, as a story-teller, I found it difficult to remain silent as I read.
“For a long time, Coyote was there
on the water, sitting on that boat.
And he eat right there,
And then they got a fire…”
-Robinson (64)
The next attempt was out aloud. I am now allowed to read aloud. Perhaps it is the opportunity to give voice to ideas, written or thought, that makes out-loud have the same meaning as allowed.
Reading to myself made the unforeseen cantor and flow of Harry Robinson come alive. The story begun to unfold and make more sense to me. I began to question to switch between “he” and “they” when referring to Coyote. Is “they” Coyote and the Angel? Coyote and the presence of God? Or are there some others I am unaware of with Coyote? An unanticipated pack? Subsequently I considered that “he” and “they” are the same individual (Coyote) who is both man and myth, human and animal, a tangible example of binary “one or the other” existing together.
In the story, Coyote goes to see the King of England and invisible to onlookers makes his way to the kitchen doors (because even King’s have to eat and cooks must be present). Coyote knocks, and the cook comes to the door and sees “this man”:
“They look different.
Looks like a Coyote but it looks like a man.
Just kinda half-and-half.” Robinson (69)
Coyote has now been described as a man, they, and it. In a literal sense, I found this hard to digest but once read aloud the realization that Coyote is more than any of those one categories becomes apparent. Also, we are well aware that English written and spoken are quite different things.
My next task was to find a friend to suffer me reading them a story. Ok – that may be hyperbole. Many people like to hear stories. As I read the story aloud once more I found my cantor change, pauses were created for effect, and the words I spoke may or may not have been written. The story came alive as I told it to an audience, and I was transformed into a forward-hunched soothsayer speaking in a different tongue of a different world and a different time.
Lastly, I had the story read back to me. This was mostly a comical experience because we had both heard the story, but I had now read it four times and this was their first meeting of the written word. Stumbling, laughable, hilarious. Oral syntax, and experience with it changes how the story is told and how it is received.
Interpretation and understanding is always riddled with the lens of our of bias. I was rather shocked at one point when reading Carlson “The Orality and Literacy: The ‘Black and White’ of Salish History.” when he brought up the same story I now was so familiar with. In particular, Carlson paraphrases Harry Robinson’s story – I have includes quotes from both below.
“So difficult is the task of composing the ‘Indian law’ (and so reluctant, it seems, is the king to work speedily) that the task cannot be completed during Coyote’s visit. And so Coyote has to be satisfied with a point form list and a commitment…” – Carlson (49)
“You write it down.
You write it down just the points, like.
But when I leave you, then you can do the rest,
take your time and do the rest.
When you finish, all the paper, that could be the Indian Law,
you give ’em to my children.
Not right away, but a long time from now.”
-Robinson (73)
The emphasis on point form is quite clear, but I take issue with the ascertain added by Carlson that “Coyote has to be satisfied”. It adds a level of equal footing, concessions, and compromise that was not present in Harry Robinson’s story. There, Coyote travels to the King of England and makes demands that a law should be made with a threat of inevitable war until the end of time. Through his clever (perhaps divinely inspired) ruse Coyote convinces the King to write the law, but leaves the penning and distribution of the law to the king. This is a final piece of positioning – not only has Coyote won in his persuasion of the King, but also he has now sourced the work to the defeated. The issue then becomes that the King drags his feet on writing and distributing the “Indian Law” as he was instructed. When Carlson changes this to Coyote having to be satisfied with what he has received I think he is echoing a reality of Indigenous peoples all over the world dealing with colonial governments. Time and again, Indigenous peoples make requests and have to be “satisfied” with what they receive. Instead, in Robinson’s narrative the Indigenous people make a deal behind closed doors, a deal that is denied and ignored. Perhaps Robinson’s story is a far more “real” example of what has happened during colonial history.
Amid the readings there is a theme of writing, literacy, and how this changes stories. I hope that we can all remember the words of Winston Churchill – History is written by the victors. Perhaps this is why it was so important to Coyote that the law only be distributed (enacted) when his people were capable (literate) of understanding it so they would not be tricked. Time and again, Coyote is the ultimate trickster.
Hi Duncan!
Thanks for your many insights into Robinson’s story. It’s obvious that you know it backwards and forwards by this point! I especially appreciated your critique of Carlson’s understanding of Coyote’s success/compromise with the King of England. It’s a subtle point in Carlson’s writing, but it really shows how easily we can cloud our judgement with assumptions about the role of indigenous people in their own backyards.
I am curious about your thoughts on the camera scene in Robinson’s story— the moment when Coyote requests that the King take his picture multiple times, to “take all the picture [he] can take out of [Coyote]” (73). It’s certainly different than the first mention of cameras earlier, when the white folks were unsuccessfully chasing down Coyote somewhere at sea and weren’t able to get close enough for pictures. What do you think the role of the picture-taking is in Coyote’s interactions with the King? Is it another form of trickery, turning the King’s own technology/power on himself to prove that Coyote was there for future generations? Or maybe a way for Coyote to relieve the frustration he and his people have had over being photographed and treated like museum artifacts over the years by taking command of the process? I’m not sure what exactly Coyote’s motive is here but would appreciate any further insights.
Great thoughts Keely. I thought of the photography scene as an expression of power – it wasn’t said that Coyote prevented his picture from being taken, only that the sailers were unable to do so. This adds to the mystique about Coyote. I also considered the (in)ability to approach Coyote to photograph him to be an expression of a lack of understanding… the concept of Coyote as a man, animal, myth, magical being, or deity is (/would have) been difficult for many people outside of North American culture to understand. Thus, even when white people think they “see” Coyote they cannot get any closer to him. This is akin to having a grasp of an idea but not fully understanding it. When Coyote present himself to the king, he has reached out and made himself understood on his terms and even this is a display of power. Even then, he was only seen and photographed by the King (and the cook I suppose) and not the rest of the country. Communication & power, I suppose.
Thanks for the reply! The idea of Coyote’s inapproachability to those outside of Coyote’s own culture is very intriguing and rings a bit true for my own (lack of) understanding of Coyote too.
Exciting! What a fantastic reading and writing of your telling of Robinson’s story. Excellent, makes me wish I was a student again! Thank you Duncan, and thank you Keely for your question about the camera: I think there’s more to be explored in that question, and hopefully someone will find themselves here and venture to consider further …
🙂