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3:3 Green Grass, Running Water. 115-121

3:3 Green Grass, Running Water: Connecting symbol to meaning

For this post I will be hyper-lining information about characters in Green Grass Running Water, by Thomas King. These characters are complex representations and amalgamations of many ideas, tongue in cheek commentaries, and references to stories we prefer to avoid when talking about Canadian History, First Peoples, and colonization. I have attempted to weigh how much I have written on the character based on their appearance in my section.

My assigned section were pages 115-121 of GGRW. In this chapter, we get some insight into Charlie Looking Bear, why he works for the company Duplessis. We also learn about the love triangle between Alberta Frank, Lionel, and Charlie.

 

Charlie Looking Bear

The majority of the passage I am responsible for is focused on Charlie Looking Bear. Upon first reading about Charlie Looking Bear I found him to be repulsive. He is actively aware that he is being used as a pawn for a Duplessis International Associates, a corporation battling Eli Stands Alone in the courts for the operation of the dam. When it is pointed out the tribe won’t gain any value from the dam being operations Charlie responds pragmatically with “Then some of us should, don’t you think?”

Is it really fair to dislike Charlie so? I would argue no. He is in opposition to Eli, someone we identify with as trying to protect his past, his heritage, and his beliefs by standing up. It is a classic David vs. Goliath epic and we all love underdogs. However, Eli already left home, didn’t look back, and already made a life (and wages!) that have allowed him to be standing up for what he believes in. In this I see a parallel to developed nations arguments about reducing resource extraction (and fossil fuel emissions) to developing economies. It is easy from our position to tell other nations to “green” themselves, because we have already built infrastructure and accumulated wealth. Thus, I would like to give Charlie a break.

Now, what does it mean, to be a Little Bear? Honestly, I am not sure. Little can have many connotations as can “Bear”, as literally devoid or as a metaphor or symbol. I tried to find out what the Bear represent in Squamish Lilwat culture, and found that the bear represents strength, family, learned humility, and is protector of the animal kingdom and forests. Perhaps this is why Charlie is Looking Bear. He certainly seems to be a strong character, but rather than protecting nature he is protecting the right of a corporation to destroy it.

The more I have explored around the subject, including some brief research on the American Indian Movement (AIM) I came across an individual named Wallace “Mad Bear” Anderson. He grew up near Niagara Falls on the Tuscarora Indian Reservation. He became an activist in 1957, and became a key figure in the Tuscarora Reservoir Protest. Anderson and others blocked surveyors from the Power Authority of the State of New York when they attempted to seize and build a reservoir that would floor land on the Tuscarora Reservation. 

The more I have read about Wallace Anderson the more parallels I see between his reality, and Charlie Little Bear. Now, I see Little Bear as a tongue in cheek jab about what Charlie could have been with his legal background, a defender rather than an exploiter of circumstance. Perhaps an adequate description for how King treats some of his characters such as Charlie is as a mirror of reality, the same but opposite.

Full Story about Wallace Mad Bear Anderson

 

Alberta Frank

Alberta Frank. Where to start, she is a smart, educated, employed strong female character who does what she wants. Both Lionel and Charlie profess love for her, and she appears to be dancing the fine line between them.

Alberta Frank is easily related back to Frank, Alberta. No doubt others have found this connection, but rather than “Googling” her name I was initially reminded of a song. One of my favourite songs by the Rural Alberta Advantage is Frank, AB. There are some beautiful harmonies (Woo-eee-ooo-oohs) and I recommend you take a listen. Much to my shame, until now I was unaware of the deeper meaning behind the lyrics. What hooked me on this song was the haunting stanza:

My love I will hold on to your touch

Until there’s nothing left of us

To save you from this life

It leaves much to the imagination, but the song is really about Frank, Alberta, and of the 1903 landslide that destroyed a mine, businesses, houses, and killed 70-90 people. The song is short, sweet, and ends with:

And under the rubble of the mountain that tumbl’d

I’ll hold you forever,

I’ll hold you forever,

They’ll build up another

on the bodies of our brothers

and I’ll love you forever

The town was rebuilt. And perhaps that means that Alberta, as a symbol of danger and foreshadowed tragedy (especially when considering the love triangle) is also a symbol of hope. Another interesting point is that the Frank mine collapsed not because of extensive mining but because of a fault-line of limestone worn away by water (Read et al, 2005). This is reflected in the plot-line of Eli Stands Alone and the dam in the following sections. The dam was built on fault-lines that appeared would be its undoing. Alberta wants a child, but not another husband. More eloquently put she does not want two children. She might destroy the lives of the two men who love her in the process, but it may be just what she needs. Perhaps this is a way to illustrate how our strengths are also our weaknesses, our fault lines may seed destruction within our lives but they are also intrinsic to who we are.

 

Bow River Valley. The closest I’ve been to Alberta Frank.

Lionel

In my section, Lionel makes a woefully small appearance compared to his continuance and growth through the novel. He steps in a puddle, pick up the hitch-hiking four Indians, and reminisces about a conversation with Alberta. Lionel is perplexed that she is interested in Charlie in spite of her intellect, employment, and responsibility. This assumption on his part plays into Alberta’s own concerns about men interested in her only care about what they think she is, rather than how she sees herself and what she wants from life.

Later on in the story, the four travelling Indians seeking to fix the world focus on fixing Lionel. Now, I was initially unaware of who, or what Lionel Red Dog could represent or how he existed outside of the novel, outside of his character. Some searching on the Internet revealed a parallel between his characters experiences at Wounded Knee as a representation of the American Indian Movement. Perhaps it is a deeper connection, but I will leave exploring those connections to others whose sections are more focused on Lionel.

 

Lone Ranger

The Lone Ranger appears briefly in this section and meets Lionel while thumbing a ride to Blossom. The Lone Ranger is traditionally an American fictional character who travels around the “Wild West” fighting injustice with his sidekick, Tonto, an “Indian” portrayed in a stereotypical racist manner. Once again, I think King has created a mirror of a “real” character, in this case, King’s Lone Ranger is an Indian vs. the American fictional character who is a generic white Wild West vigilante hero. In this case, it seems as though the morality of the characters is mirrored as identical, but their visual and cultural connotations are opposite. The use of the Lone Ranger as an Indian character seems like a way to draw attention to how First Nations have been portrayed, and juxtaposition that with how they are today.

Overall Opinion of Green Grass, Running Water

I would recommend reading Green Grass Running Water to any and all North Americans. Since I moved to the West coast of Canada, I have had several confusing experiences where my lexicon and language that I have been familiar with as a Maritimer go misunderstood. We are all familiar with our own background, knowledge base, and stories, and when we communicate within common ground we are well understood. However, when our stories lead away from common ground so that others can understand our own world view and the greater and more personal stories we can tell they must put forth an effect to explore and understand the unknown. That is how I feel about GGRW, initially it was very challenging. But as I have explored the connections, symbolism, and subtle undertones of what the story says without saying I have gained much greater insight into the history and world view of King. I would argue this is significant as a Canadian as well, to gain greater understand of not only our past and present, but what are future may hold.

 

References:

  • King, Thomas. Green Grass Running Water. Toronto: Harper Collins, 1993. Print. Pages 115-121.
  • Flick, Jane. “Reading Notes for Thomas King’s Green Grass Running Water.Canadian Literature 161-162. (1999). Web. April 04/2013.
  • Read, R.S., Langenberg, W., Cruden, D., Field, M., Stewart, R., Bland, H., Chen, Z., Froese, C.R., Cavers, D.S., and Bidwell, A.K. 2005. Frank Slide a century later: The Turtle Mountain monitoring project. In International Conference on Landslide Risk Management. Balkema Publishers, Rotterdam, pp. 713–723.

3:2 Q2: They say anything is possible.

What I want to know is why you are so much larger than me? That’s easy, said the Moose, and he walked into the lake and he disappeared.”

-Thomas King

This is one of my favourite King quotes and is the reason why I have decided to assess the major differences and similarities between King’s Creation story about Charm and the world on a turtle and my own somewhat convoluted stories. In this post, you can expect to learn about how I see the world through the lens of my creation stories, where King and I meet on common ground, and where we diverge. Mostly, it is storytelling and I hope you enjoy it.

If you are unfamiliar with King’s story about Charm, you can read it here (Begins on Page 11) or listen to it on CBC.

If you don’t have time to (re)read it, I have included a short summary:

Earth was created on the back of a turtle. Rather, the earth as we know it was. Long ago, the earth was really all water and there was no land to be seen. Animals lived there, but there were no people. On another, larger world, far away, was a curious woman named Charm. She ended up falling through her world pursuing her curiosity, and fell through space onto Earth (perhaps better named Water!). Not knowing how to swim, she was saved by animals. One of which, an Otter, dove and returned to Charm, who was now resting on a turtle. The otter was exhausted but had brought some mud. Soon, Charm gave birth on the back of the turtle and her twins shaped the mud and made the mountains, valleys, rivers, and forests we now know today. One twin built and ordered, the other muddled and added complexity. All the earth as we know it rests on the back of a turtle.

 

What follows are some stories. I have tried to write the way I would tell them to mirror King’s methods. Similar to King’s story about Charm my tale is less about creation and is really more about a happening.

How the World came to be

You might be wondering how we came to be. It is a long, long story. It takes longer than a life to tell, so all we really get is a highlight reel. A summary. Coles notes. A dummy’s guide to life.

Once upon a time there was infinity.

It does not end or begin. Like tracing a finger on a drawn circle. I suppose it isn’t once upon a time after all, it’s always.

Infinity just is.

Infinity? What is it?

People call it different things.

Energy and matter they say.

They are the same thing, but different, like water and ice.

Yes, steam too.

Energy and matter.

We don’t really understand how, but a long time ago a man with a very impressive beard say that energy and matter are interchangeable. Matter becomes energy, energy becomes matter. It never disappears or appears really, but it moves around. Sometimes it moves around in ways we cannot understand. Through things calls dimensions.

Dimensions. Like drawing a square on a page, and making it into a cube. You just went up a dimension! Congratulations. Some women and men believe there to be at least 11 or more dimensions. Really we don’t know.

We don’t know.

But energy and matter…

There is a funny thing about things. Sometimes things run away from each other. Like a drop of dye in a glass of water. And sometimes things stick together, like oil in a glass of water.

Try it at home.

Why is that?

Energy and matter, of course.

See, energy and matter like to travel but seem to get lonely too. We don’t know why.

Sometimes there is this pull on matter, maybe it is energy, and it matter stays together.

Sometimes there is this push on matter and it tries to stay away.

Like how sometimes we just want a hug, and other times we want to be left alone.

Anyway, back to the World.

Once upon an always, there was enough matter bumping into each other that a force pulled and pulled. Like gravity. Maybe it was gravity?

This force it made a ball. That got bigger and bigger.

When things get compressed they get hot, and heat is energy. Matter and energy are the same, and maybe some of that heat energy matter just wanted to escape the crowd.

Like being in a stuffy crowded room and escaping to fresh air.

That big ball is the sun.

Energy and matter.

Other balls formed in other places.

Why are they balls?

Oh, well they pull towards a centre.

Anyhow, this is how the earth came to be.

It wasn’t created so much as happened. Imagine a whirlpool in a ballpit.

Eventually, some matter stuck together. Like oil in water. The little balls all stick together and spin in space.

For a long long long time. And now there is this big ball, the Earth.

It’s hot in the middle so they say.

That probably why there are volcanoes. Energy and matter.

Ok fine. But where does life come from? Where do we come from?

Don’t worry, I’m not out of stories yet. I’ll tell two stories and you can take your pick. Choose your own adventure:

After the earth glued itself together it got hit over and over again by comets and asteroids. Some of them had water. Oceans of water.

Then this thing happened. Maybe once, maybe a bazillion times. But at least once.

This thing.

The earth was hot. Some of the water turned into steam and vapour and rose, becoming clouds. Then this thing happened, it was lightning.

Lightning is energy, you see.

From the forces and pulls of different types of matter moving around. Being pulled around.

Every once in awhile there is such a difference in how excited the energy in clouds and the ground that energy goes to balance it out. Like visiting someone after a long time the excitement builds and builds and builds.

Hi. How are you? EXCITED!

Lightning stuck some water.

And some bits and pieces in the water, they get all boiled up into a ball.

A tiny ball on a big ball.

A ball of oil.

Anything is possible, so they say. I suppose it must be.

Because it seems impossible to for this ball full of proteins of oil out of soup and lightening. It is improbable.

But if you flip a coin a bazillion times, it will eventually come up heads enough times in a row to be astonishing.

This ball has some bits and pieces in it. And it copies itself.

A long long time goes by.

These little balls, they like to copy themselves.

That is one creation story. Little balls and big odds. Energy and matter.

Bazillions.

Or maybe that isn’t right at all. This is another story I have heard, a story I like more. I like it because a moose walks into a lake. Well, there is no moose or lake, but you will see.

Earth may have formed as I spoke of before, balls hurtling through space coalescing into the planet as we know it. Asteroids and comets smashing into earth bring matter and debris is cast into space from the impacts.

This matter, might very well contain oceans.

The debris hum around earth, quickly caught in our gravity. Smashing into each other. Sometimes they coalesce, and before we know it, the moon is born. Or rather, is build. By gravity, by energy.

Some of these extraterrestrial rocks, some of them can contain oceans of water.

They crash into the earth. And melt.

Then there are oceans.

But in the water is life.

It came in the ice.

Frozen. Preserved.

It is possible life did not start here. That it is a continuance.

And aeons pass. Those things that survive, survive. Sometimes the climate changes and many die.

Years and years.

Animals, great and small. In and out of the oceans. Onto the land.

Finally, people, as we recognize them.

Years and years.

And you and I.

The matter we are made up of is the same as the stars, and we are descended from unknown life scattered across the universe. Sometimes it survives, sometimes it doesn’t. Like seeds on the wind. Some land on fields, some on rock. Some survive and some do not.

This story is called panspermia.

Instead of seeds growing into plants, it is the seeds of life on barren planets.

There is not creation, but a continuance. What is a beginning? Maybe there never has been a beginning.

That seems impossible. But there is a sliver of possibility. So really it is improbable.

 

Where does the energy and matter come from you might ask?

No-one really knows.

But it is. Whatever is means.

These are some stories. You can choose to believe them or not.

We’re all here together now though, so lets make the best of it.

Maybe there is magic out there. Maybe there is other life. Maybe there are gods.

Anything is possible, so they say.

———

Similarities and Differences

Based on my own experiences as a child who has asked for “five more minutes” of play or is told we will leave “in five”, or as an adult hitting a snooze button I don’t think I am alone in the human experience of time not being consistent and linear. Like King, I describe “creation” as a change rather than a discrete beginning. Perhaps it seems as though there should be a beginning, middle, and end to this story, post, or this discussion, much like birth, life and death. But even these discrete categories fall apart on closer analysis, any mother can tell you that birth is not in an instant! In fact, birth is describing a change from inside to outside of the womb rather than a creation or beginning. Even birth is a continuance. As for death, is it when we stop breathing? When our heart stops pumping? When our blood stops circulating? When the last of our cells cease to metabolize?

As you can see, I do not perceive creation as a moment. Like time, it is a continuance. This is where the creation story about Charm and my own overlap the most. That, and the gradual changes that have lead to life being the way it is. King’s and my own stories are different from the King James creation story in genesis as (1) The world starting perfect and falling into chaos and (2) that there was not “nothing” then “everything” at the whim of a (one) creator. In addition, in The Truth About Stories King mentions that he knows a few creation stories, I hope I have illustrated that we share common ground in having multiple stories. Much like Coyote – the trick is that either story can be false, or both can be true. They are not mutually exclusive.

There are differences in our stories. For King the Earth was once all water, to me it was all land. I do not believe turtles are holding up the land but I can understand how someone would. Simply put, earth sinks. We also diverge on another topic, four vs. three as “magic” numbers, or numbers of significance. This comes out in the four cardinal directions, four colours on the medicine wheel, four women and four men in Green Grass Running water. In my world-view, it takes two to make one (parents/child) leading to three; there is birth life and death, two of each appendage and sensory organ and one brain, day, night, and the space inbetween. I can see how four fits any of my own observations as well, but perhaps these are differences deeply ingrained in how we have learned to see the world. I think we can share common ground in our numbers, as well as our stories. It is not that one is right and one is wrong, both simply are.

If you do not like King’s or my own creation stories, there are plenty more out there. Perhaps you expected me to launch into a battle between King James and Thomas King. Battles over Eden and water, about creation and continuance. I will leave you with a piece* presented this week (March 10th, 2014) at the Vancouver Poetry slam which tells the story of Genesis from an outsiders perspective.

*Note: This piece contains language and ideas that may be considered offensive to some. It is not my intention to cause offence or anger, but rather present an alternate view of the King James creation story as told by an “outsider” without addressing it directly because I am already way over my word limit for the week!

 

As the sun sets and we huddle around sharing stories and ourselves, we are looking for meaning. This comes down to the great questions of why are we here? What was here before? What will be after?

The answers are easy.

Just ask the moose.

 

 

References:

  • Greene, Brian. “How Did Water Come to Earth?” Smithsonian Magazine. May 2013. Web. 13 Mar 2014.
  • King, Thomas. Green Grass Running Water. Toronto: Harper Collins, 1993. Print.
  • King, Thomas. The Truth About Stories. Toronto: Harper Collins, 2003. Print.
  • Massey, Simon. “A Brief History of Creation”. Online Video Clip Youtube. Vancouver Poetry Slam.13 Mar 2014. Web. 13 Mar 2014.
  • Photos by Duncan MacGillivray.

3:1Q2 Canadian? The Immigration Act.

This week, I am focused on an idea poised by Daniel Coleman in White Civility: The Literary Project of English Canada and how it relates to the Immigration Act of 1910.

 

“What was isn’t, what will be hasn’t, and what is what is”

Words quietly uttered at fireside in a small farmhouse nestle in a hill in Prince Edward Island after a day of carrying debarked and aged tree trunks through knee-deep wetlands to build a log cabin. A good friend said these simple words, often they resonate with me when I consider history and relativism. Indeed, Canada is not how it was but nothing ever “was” – existence is flux. This lends a bias to my eye when I read about colonialism or Nationalism, so please keep that in mind.

Canada is often spoken of as a young country, or nation, and while ribbon cutting may happen overnight we know that it comes only after a long and perilous road. Nation building is a lengthy and complex continuity of events that culminate in ideas and ideology. Ideas put in practice through Acts and laws. I looked at several Canadian Acts, and was particular taken by the Immigration act of 1910. I have always imagined Canada as a vast area, peopled by nomads from diverse backgrounds. The immigration act strikes me as particularly interesting, laws enacted to filter and discriminate upon who may have membership in newly founded Canada.

The Constitution Act came about in 1867, uniting Nova Scotia, New Brunswick, and the Province of Canada (later to be Ontario and Quebec) formed as a dominion, vying for similar position and autonomy as Scotland or Ireland had within Great Britain. 1867 – Indeed Canada is young. When I hold my Grandmothers hand (who is turning 92) I am touching someone who touched someone who was alive when Canada was not a country at all. Other provinces soon joined the dominion and Canada became an awkward semi self-managing entity. However, a unified nation was not formed overnight, one could even argue it still has not. In 1914, four years after the Immigration act (I’ll get there shortly, hang in there) Canada was automatically brought into the First World War by colonial ties to England. On shaky legs with a held hand Canada has emerged from colonization, treaties, and reserves into a “nation”. A big part of that was creating an identity, what was it to be Canadian? What is it now? What will it be?

The Immigration Act.

Reading this act with regard to present Canadian Identity is rather shocking. Basically, Canadian citizens were defined as persons born in Canada, British subjects residing in Canada, or persons naturalized under the laws of Canada.

In fact, immigrants are further designated as all persons who are: (I) non-Canadian, (II) non-diplomatic, (III) relations of British military, (IV) tourists/travellers, and (V) students. Canada was creating an “us” and “them” dichotomy closely tied to colonial British roots. The act then discriminated against persons with mental problems, criminal records, religious and ethnic groups, and the impoverished and destitute. These persons were viewed as being unnecessary burdens on a fragile country. Definitions in the immigration act play strongly into Coleman’s argument about how Canadian nation building has relied on archetypes of “White civility”. However, we know that the people in North America came from diverse backgrounds. The administration may have been British (after taking over from French rule) but there was a targeted campaign to recruit other cultures to immigrate to Canada as well.

“I think the stalwart peasant in a sheepskin coat, born on the soil, whose forefathers have been farmers for ten generations, with a stout wife and a half-dozen children, is good quality” – Clifford Sifton (Belanger, 2006)

The sheepskin coat was a reference to Eastern European and Nordic farmers. I highly recommend you read this story where I stumbled upon this quote and further explains it.

Coleman describe four archetypes: the Loyalist brother, the Scottish orphan, the muscular Christian, and the maturing colonial son. Each of these represent moral imperatives or desirable attributes or ways to act “Canadian”. In light of Canadian history rooted in Colonial Britain it is little surprise that these archetypes dominate descriptions of a “Canadian”. Reminiscing on heritage moments – not all are about white men but they are the overwhelming majority. Or, perhaps, check this list of quotes (Belanger, 2006) from Canadian officials that can easily be categorized as Coleman’s white civility, if not supremacy.

Personally, reading Coleman struck a gut wrenching cord of recognition. Four years ago I travelled from the Maritimes to the west coast, then North to the Yukon and Alaska. I was trying to get a better grasp of Canada as a place, to explore, and frankly – play outside. At this point in my life I was no stranger to travel, but was still astonished at (and revelled in) the incredible diversity and common ground held by people all over the country. In primary school I studied French in the St. Mary’s First Nation reserve which was both an informative experience and also played into a national ideology. First Nation. Anglo. French. No mention of the plethora of other cultural groups that forged Canada as a country.

 

Still, I was weaned as an orphan Scot – both sides of my family are descendent from Scots (with mixed heritage from Whales, England, and First Nations). My ancestors were people who had been displaced and exiled from their homeland, with family and clan ties shattered. My maternal grandfather is the prototypical orphan Scot if there ever was one, and a hard working protestant too. My paternal grandfather was a courier de bois in Northern Quebec. It is not that I think any other culture is “less Canadian” but I have always associated a certain tenacity, ruggedness, acceptance of others, mysticism, and altruistism to a Canadian identity. Have I too been indoctrinated by a contrived story to become a thrall for a national agenda? And whose agenda is that exactly?

Canada was not, and has not become the mask of tolerance, acceptance, shelter, and aid that it puts forth to the international stage. Certainly, the 1910 Immigration Act reflects the aforementioned quotes above and I must concur with much of what Coleman put forth. I add that perhaps the archetypal “Canadian” was white civility because the Scotch-Irish already had experienced dealing with English rule and making their voices heard. When British rule succeeded they (and British loyalists) leapt to the stage – but they were also positioned to do so. It was of course, in England’s best interest to have a self-governing but closely allied Canada. In this process the voices of other cultural histories have been silenced.

We have all been told stories about what this place is and who we are. They may or may not be true, but I will argue that what was isn’t, what will be hasn’t, and what is what is. We should know our history and learn from it, but not lament it. For me, a Canadian isn’t someone who was born in a particular place or looks a certain way, but someone who can accept and embrace our differences and strive to build a safe and peaceful community to live in. And the Canada I want to live in certainly is not a place that does not provide prenatal care to pregnant refugees or insulin to children. Frankly, we can – and should – do better.

 Refs:

Canada. The Consitution Act of 19 Mar 1867. Web. 27 Feb 2014. Permalink <http://laws-lois.justice.gc.ca/eng/const/page-1.html>

Canada. The Immigration Act. Ottawa : C.H. Parmelee. Web. 27 Feb 2014. Permalink <http://eco.canadiana.ca/view/oocihm.9_07184>

Bélanger, Claude. “Canadian Opinions of Immigrants (pre 1945 period)” Quebec History: Marianopolis College. 2006. Web. 27 Feb 2014.

“Legal Challenge to Refugee Health Care Cuts Begin Today” Canadian Association of Refugee Lawyers. 17 Dec 2013. Web. 27 Feb 2014.

2:3Q3 – Dealings with Coyote

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.

 

 

Cooke, Gina. “Why is there a “b” in doubt?” A Ted-Ed Original. TEDEd Lessons Worth Sharing. nd. Web. 14 Feb 2014.
“Killed By Coyotes?: Urban Coyote Expert” National Geographic. nd. Video. Web. 14 Feb 2014.
Carlson, Keith Thor. “Orality and Literacy: The ‘Black and White’ of Salish History.” Orality & Literacy: Reflectins Across Disciplines. Ed. Carlson, Kristina Fagna, & Natalia Khamemko-Frieson. Toronto: Uof Toronto P, 2011. 43-72.
Robinson, Harry. “Coyote Makes a Deal with the King Of England.” Living by Stories: a Journey of Landscape and Memory. Ed. Wendy Wickwire. Vancouver: Talonbooks, 2005. 64-85.

Musing and interpretation of Chapter 2 “First Contact as a Spiritual Performance: Encounters on the North American West Coast” from Myth and Memory: Rethinking Stories of Indigenous-European Contact by John Lutz

2:2 Question 3 – What do you make of this reading? Am I being fair when I point to this assumption? If so, is Lutz being fair when he makes this assumption?

Two words: Dance off.

Preamble: I failed to come to a clear initial impression of Lutz’s work, I had to reread the chapter “First Contact as a Spiritual Performance: Encounters on the North American West Coast” several times before I felt I had grasped the material adequately to provide any insight. The overarching goal is to establish the importance of performance in communication, especially when contextualized by first-contact situations, and to highlight the importance of spiritual belief systems as context for dialogues.

 

Early in “First Contact as a Spiritual Performance Lutz writes:

“One of the most obvious difficulties is comprehending the performances of the indigenous participants. One must of necessity enter a world that is distant in time and alien in culture, attempting to perceive indigenous performance through their eyes as well as those of the Europeans.” (32)

These sentences set the stage for the chapter describing first-contact from the indigenous point of view contextualized by spiritual belief systems. Within these lines is an inherent bias, one that the readers (or society at large) belongs to a European tradition, or that such a tradition is disadvantaged in understanding performance. Hence the necessity to enter a distant world. This chapter continues to contextualize first-contact from the Indigenous perspectives with several examples including incorporation into spiritual belief systems. Europeans ideas are touched upon in through the chapter but there is a distinct lack of perspective provided to the reader in the spiritual grounding of explorers, colonizers, and settlers.

Lutz’s assumption that the reader is from a Western European background is a relatively fair one to make, as the vast majority of readers will likely have less exposure or knowledge about traditional North Western Indigenous spiritual and historic ideologies than about dominant European ones. Globally, more people will come from backgrounds touched in some way by European colonization than by the relatively fewer familiar with indigenous cultures in Canada, much least a distinct North Western region. However, I believe that lacking a detailed and full explanation of how European spiritualism plays into communication weakens the overall argument that spirituality shapes understanding as well as the need for entry into a “new world” for perception of performance.

Unbalanced explanation of spirituality with a heavy focus on the Indigenous leads the reader to the assumption that it is more difficult for the European to understand the Indigenous performance then vice versa. I do not believe this was Lutz’s goal, but it may well have been. Much of his chapter is devoted to explaining how explorers fit spiritual and supernatural histories, stories, and myths of indigenous people that placed them upon a pedestal – as either supernatural beings or even as deities. Lutz explains that this fit the colonial idea of superiority predicated on civilization, technology, and religion. This explanation of colonization certainly lends itself to the notion that European misunderstanding of Indigenous communication was indeed more prominent in the history of first-contact.

The Dempster Highway runs two ways

Misunderstanding was not a one way street. Lutz recounted the story of Ts’mysen George McCauley (provided by anthropologist William Beynon) which provides perspective of a Gitrhala man’s interpretation of first contact (pages 33-34). Herein, the Gitrhala man is constantly in awe of his captors and when he is ordered to cut up fish, they stop him and do it faster with their knives, when asked to light a fire, they do so more rapidly with flint. Eventually, he understands that though spiritual or magical in nature, these men mean him no harm. To me, it seems as though the indigenous man misunderstood the desires and aspirations of Europeans who throughout the entire story are never made out to be uncomfortable, afraid, or lacking understanding of the situation. They communicated to the Gitrhala man instructions on building a fire, cooking, and even showing them to his home without many problems. I put forward that this is evidence that Indigenous peoples were themselves more disadvantaged in communication in first contact performance scenarios. European explorers had a long history of colonization and inter-cultural trade by the time they landed in the Americas, especially by the time they arrived in the North West. Thus, Europeans had an upper hand in experience interpreting performances.

Lutz brings up the nuances of cultural constrained gestures as an example for how difficult it is to understand what may or may not cause offence or instigate violent reactions. I argue that while gesticulation is highly culturally constrained, and we judge “us and them” based on body language, when we encounter obviously culturally distinct other we do not take offence so easily. Indeed, there is a long human history of meeting strangers nomads, travellers, and merchants with whom verbal communication may be impossible. First contact happens daily between people from diverse backgrounds. Ubiquitously humans manage to communicate through performance with the shared understanding that the message may be muddled. With that shared understanding we are not easily offended by gestures or actions we would normally see as transgressions. Rather, these symbolic modes of communication may direct or shape our categorization of the “other” in some way.

Cross-cultural non-verbal communication at work

Almost there. Hang in a little longer.

 

Is it then necessary for one to enter a world that is distant in time and alien in culture to attempt to perceive indigenous performance?

I respond with an adamant and resounding “No”. Not only do I disagree, but I suggest that the opposite is true. The elegance of the human condition is we can use our shared experiences to communicate. This can be achieved non-verbally through dance, acting, and performance. We can express birth and death, day and night, hot and cold, limitless dichotomies. The beauty of this form of communication is that it transcends local constraints of history, culture, and spirituality. It is what builds the common ground of humanity between all of us. We may be limited to our experiences, but they allow us to transform our common ground into an arena for communication.

Understanding the spirituality and culture of people is fundamental to clear and concise communication. However, I caution the reliance of this form of “understanding” in perception of other people. We often learn some things about different perspectives and assume we understand all. It is this hubris that is our downfall, because the moment we stop questioning whether or not we are being understood or are understanding each other correctly we can err. An example of this caution is the W4D Indian as portrayed by the Canadian media, CBC phrases it more eloquently that I ever could. Once the dominant culture believes they understand another communication of stories really breaks down.

In summary to this long and rambling road: performance is nuanced but can be globally understood with effort. I disagree with Lutz’s comment that the most obvious difficulty of first contact histories resides in the perception of performances. Ultimately, it is the mutual desire to communicate that gives rise to both perception and performance. The most difficult part of first contact histories is simple that we cannot trust or know what really happened – but perhaps it is the stories that are told that are more important.

 

Thanks for making it to the end!

As always, comments, criticisms, concerns, and questions are most welcome.

 

My opinions and bias is formed by my own experiences of non-verbal communication – this reading and response spoke to me on several levels and reminded me of some time spent with far flung amigos…

Non-verbal communication goes a long way. Guinea-Conakry

Basket weaving 101. Words free.

Goldin-Meadow, Susan. “The Role of Gesture in Communication and Thinking.” Trends in cognitive sciences 3.11 (1999): 419–429. Print.
Lutz, John. “First Contact as a Spiritual Performance: Aboriginal — Non-Aboriginal Encounters on the North American West Coast.” Myth and Memory: Rethinking Stories of Indigenous-European Contact. Ed. Lutz. Vancouver: U of British Columbia P, 2007. 30-45. Print.
McCue, Duncan. “What it takes for aboriginal people to make the news” CBC News. 29 Jan 2014. Web. 4 Feb 2014