Green Grass Running Water by Thomas King is full of allusions and connections to the works beyond the novel itself. Below are a few that caught my attention:

N. Bates

For horror fanatics or anyone who has been on the internet for long enough, this allusion to Norman Bates in Hitchcock’s Psycho is obvious. An incredibly strange interaction accompanies this easter egg. Jane Flick notes that rather than Bates Motel like in the film, it is a “lodge, for Indian dwelling” because this novel is about native people (Flick 154). The allusion may not have a more significant role within the general plot or story, but it is a fun find.

Alberta Frank

Alberta Frank’s character is quite impressive both in terms of her name and as an individual. Her name alludes to the province of Alberta. The Province of Alberta, in colonial history, was a large part of the fur trade and later, a major agricultural centre. The floral emblem of Alberta is the Wild Rose, which has symbolic ties to life and vitality. Meanwhile, the provincial bird is the owl, which symbolizes wisdom and sacred knowledge. The surname Frank has two different allusions. The name Frank is of German origin, meaning free man. The word frank is a synonym for honest and sincere. All of these meanings seem to be incorporated into Alberta Frank’s character. The most exciting part of this character, however, is her desire for a child without marriage or a husband. This defies the social expectations made of women in which women should have both a man and a child. Moreover, single-parent homes, while common, are often frowned upon because some people believe that children need two parents to be raised well. Alberta’s defiance of these social expectations may suggest resistance against the misogyny, the mistreatment of women, or a starting point for a discussion in the women’s role and the patriarchy.

Pauline Johnson and The Shagganappi

Pauline ‘Polly’ Johnson appears in Green Grass Running Water alongside her book the Shagganappi. Polly’s friend introduces her to Latisha: “Polly here is part Indian. She’s a writer, too. Maybe you’ve read one of her books?” which Latisha denies and Polly simply replies “It’s all right, dear […] not many people have” (King 158). This interaction between the two may be alluding to the effort that it took for Johnson to be recognized as an author. The $20 tip under The Shagganappi, as noted by Jane Flick, maybe a way of telling Latisha to give her book a read. While there is no research material regarding her book on the internet other than E-book versions, Pauline Johnson is an incredibly influential person in Canada. According to Jane Flick, Johnson was the “daughter of a Mohawk father and white mother,” but what made her famous was “her public appearances – in buckskins- across the country to read her work” and share it with the people (Flick 154). Today, she is celebrated as an essential figure in sharing Indigenous and Canadian literary culture. She even has a monument in Stanley Park, Vancouver, BC.

Being Canadian versus Being American

The debate about being Canadian as opposed to being American is one of the most frequent contentions presented in popular media like CBC News and vigorously defended by Canadians. This tension is shown in the book as an issue of identity and personal values. Canadians are “dependent [… and] conservative,” while Americans are “independent […and] adventurous,” which very clearly indicates the divide between the two nationalities (King 156). Canadians are naive, innocent, and harmless, and Americans are assertive, judgemental, and rude. King makes the connection that being a specific nationality equates to having a particular set of traits. Latisha is shown holding her son and “whisper ferociously over and over again until it became a chant, a mantra, ‘You are a Canadian. You are a Canadian. You are a Canadian.” as if it will instil Canadian attitudes and behaviours into her son. It is an intense portrayal of stereotypes which may, in and within itself, allude to the perpetuation of native stereotypes in popular media.

Film Portrayals of Indigenous People

“‘A cowboy.’ And his mother had laughed. ‘Charlie, your father made a very good Indian’ […] Before the year was out, Portland was playing chiefs. Hy played Quick Fox in Duel at Sioux Crossing, Chief Jumping Otter in They Rode for Glory, and Chief Lazy Dog in Cheyenne Sunrise. He was a Sioux eighteen times, a Cheyenne ten times, a Kiowa six times, an Apache fives times, and a Navaho once” (King 151).

Charlie reminisces the story his mother told him about his father’s career as an actor in Portland, Oregon. During the 90s, Portland and Hollywood produced many films that had Indigenous people. These portrayals were racist and perpetuated negative stereotypes about Indigenous people. As noted in the novel, a native actor would act as members of tribes he was not a part of at the insistence of directors. While it can be argued that a good actor can play any role, this emphasizes the lack of care that the producers had about Indigenous peoples and cultures. The movies often portrayed all Indigenous tribes as one entity rather than as separate tribes, which further displaced Indigenous identity in film. The negative and ignorant representations affected the way the public responded to the natives. This response generated more negative stereotypes such as the notion that Indigenous people are lazy, or alcoholics, or drug-addicts without considering the long-standing history of violence or causes. Indigenous people became a stock character with one or two traits that became a universal symbol.

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Question 6:

Lee Maracle writes:

In order for criticism to arise naturally from within our culture, discourse must serve the same function it has always served. In Euro-society, literary criticism heightens the competition between writers and limits entry of new writers to preserve the original canon. What will its function be in our societies? (88)

In the following paragraphs in her essay, Maracle answers her question describing what she sees to be the function of literary criticism in Salish society. Summarize her answer and then make some comparisons between Maracle and Frye’s analysis of the role of myth in nation building.

Lee Maracle, in her article “Toward a national Literature: A Body of Writing,” discusses the function of literary criticism within her Salish community. She defines it as a “process of gathering together to find what is new and being born, to learn as an ensemble, to discover as a group” to begin taking apart the story (Maracle 85). The act of literary criticism is a communal experience of shaping the myth together to allow space for each member to confront their understanding and grow from it. Salish people tell stories through understanding the story, then inserting the self and the community within the context of the story, and followed by seeing the commonality that the story shares with the people. After it has been taken apart and put back together, the Salish will “assess its value to continued growth and transformation of the community and the nation” because every single story shared within their community is a piece of their history and beliefs (Maracle 85).

The criticism of stories for the Salish is about self-reflection and personal development concerning the community because each individual has a duty to the community and, by connection, a responsibility to the continual telling of stories. The Salish welcome new stories from old stories because it is changing to fit the passage of time. The new ones are more fitting as guiding principles for the community because the new stories are attuned to new ways of life. This is a stark contrast from the European tendency to exclude and limit the creation of new stories while striving to protect and covet old stories with outdated beliefs. Salish myths give space for the community to grow with time while Europeans are obsessed with nostalgia and a glorified past – the latter is an idea explored by Northrop Frye

Northrop Frye, in “Conclusion to a Literary History of Canada,” explores the struggles of Canadian identity and nation-building as a result of the lack of myth. Frye explains the lack of renowned Canadian Literature and attributes it to the lack of connection that Canadian Literature has to place. The writing from Canada does not connect readers but instead shares a generic Western experience that is not specific to Canada; as such, the literature cannot develop the Canadian identity. Myths are a literary tradition of place that “become structural principles of storytelling, its mythical concepts, sun-gods and the like, become habits of metaphorical thought,” which provide a basis for the creation of original stories (Frye 234). Canada lacks that. Canadian history is not rooted in the place of Canada but rather in the experiences endured on Canadian soil like colonialism, confederation, or the immigration of people. Nothing is connecting Canada to its creation because those are stories known only to the Natives. These stories have been destroyed by the murder and assimilation of Native peoples. Most countries have national myths, but Canada will probably never will. Canadian writers today write from a place of experience or emotion connected to a history of the books they have read. These pasts are linked to Europe; thus, the stories from Canada are mostly monotonous do not define Canada.

Maracles highlights the importance of myth in her culture and, thus, as a part of her identity. The Salish stories simultaneously build up her community and her sense of self. The stories connect her to her people, to the land, and her nation, which helps create her identity. Frye, on the other hand, emphasizes the fact that the lack of myth in Canada makes it hard to create that link to place and self. Canada cannot define itself without correlation to other countries because Canada does not have an original myth. Without the myth, Canadians cannot feel connected to Canada in the fundamental ways that the natives do to the land. Both Maracles and Frye emphasize similar arguments – myth is crucial to nation-building because each myth lays a concrete foundation for a people to connect to in building their community; without the myths, there is nothing substantial and thus, no specific identity.

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Question 3: What are the major differences or similarities between the ethos of the creation story or stories you are familiar with and the story King tells in The Truth About Stories?

“The Earth Diver” is a native creation story about the formation of Earth as we know it. Thomas King’s version is a simple tale about a woman who fell through a hole and gave birth to a set of twins who then formed Earth with the help of some sea creatures. The Greek creation story is a little more complicated than that. The story begins with Chaos, the beginning of all things, and from Chaos came Gaia (Earth) and her siblings like Eros (love). From here, Gaia gave birth to Ouranos (the Sky), and through their relationship, created the Titans. Gaia then gave the Titans some siblings like the Cyclops and the Hecatoncheires (Hundred Armed Monsters). The eldest Titan Kronos and his wife (and sister), Rhea gave birth to the pantheon of gods and Goddess worshipped by the Ancient Greeks. The pantheon of Gods and Goddesses created humans. Long story short, the creation of Earth predated humanity and predated the gods they worshipped by a long shot.

The main difference between the two stories is that The Greek creation story is not a single story like The Earth Diver. It is a long, convoluted myth that builds the creation of humanity through different layers and different stories. The creation of humanity is often told as a whole separate myth with an entirely different set of characters. Gaia, in this case, is her own entity and modifies herself to accommodate her children as she sees fit – building mountainous ranges and deep caverns. The Greek myths are also much more violent, and while the stories have different versions for different ages, the tales are always a tad gruesome. The Earth Diver story, on the other hand, is very different from the Greeks. As noted, King presents it as a singular myth that explains all of creation, from Earth to humans, in one sitting. It is a story of harmony and community. All of the sea creatures extend a helping hand with no judgement and no insincerity. Moreover, the Greek creation myth has a pantheon of powerful gods with divine power as opposed to the community effort between nature, the earth diver, her twins, and human beings. The differences between the creation myths are more technical due to the cultural differences between the Greeks and the natives.

The similarities are more thematic and symbolic. Both creation stories involve the notion that creation began from a woman. In “The Earth Diver,” the creation of Earth as we know it comes from the birth of twins who then mould and shape the land. In the Greek myth, Chaos, a female deity, gives birth to Gaia, also female, who gives birth to the gods and moulds the Earth. In both cases, women are the primary source of creation and the beginning of life. Moreover, this is a reflection of the culture or society that created these stories. The Greek myths are violent, which suggests a likeness to the violence of Greek warriors. “The Earth Diver” focuses on creation being a communal effort in which all members must help, which is a trait noted in many native tribes – an emphasis on community and family. The creation story is a foundation of beliefs and teachings about cultural histories about each culture. Although there are some differences between the two creation stories, the essence is still the same because all creation myths serve the same purpose and thus, vitally important to society.

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Question 1: In his article, “Godzilla vs. Post-Colonial,” King discusses Robinson’s collection of stories. King explains that while the stories are written in English, “the patterns, metaphors, structures, as well as the themes and characters, come primarily from oral literature.” More than this, Robinson, he says “develops what we might want to call an oral syntax that defeats reader’s efforts to read the stories silently to themselves, a syntax that encourages readers to read aloud” and in so doing, “recreating at once the storyteller and the performance” (186). Read “Coyote Makes a Deal with King of England”, in Living by Stories. Read it silently, read it out loud, read it to a friend, and have a friend read it to you. See if you can discover how this oral syntax works to shape meaning for the story by shaping your reading and listening of the story. Write a blog about this reading/listening experience that provides references to both King’s article and Robinson’s story.

Thomas King, in his article “Godzilla vs. Post-Colonial,” introduces several different genres of native literature that does not in any way fall under the limited categories of “pre-colonial” or “post-colonial” literature. King presents a fundamental argument about the nature of native literature:

“post-colonialism purports to be a method by which we can begin to look at those literatures which are formed out of the struggle of the oppressed against the oppressor, the colonized and the colonizer, the term itself assumes that the starting point for that discussion is the advent of Europeans in North America. At the same time, the term organizes the literature progressively suggesting that there is both progress and improvement.” (King 184-185).

The term ‘post-colonial’ infers that native literature evolved as a result of colonialism that the arrival of the Europeans changed the way that native literature is shared. It emphasizes the Europeans and insufficient focus on native literature. The term itself is equally as exclusionary as the act of colonialism itself. King emphasizes some other genres that deviate from ‘post-colonial’ and ‘pre-colonial’ literature, which is often exclusionary to native traditions and histories. The terms imply that native literature moves from savagery to civilized, which promotes racist perceptions. While native literature has evolved, much of it remains proprietary towards native cultures. For example, Harry Robinson’s “Coyote Makes a Deal with the King of England,” which is an account of the colonial experience through the native perspective. King explains that the unique writing style of Robinson retains the “patterns, metaphors, structures as well as the themes and characters [that] come primarily from oral literature” and thus, has changed the way readers interact with Robinsons’ stories (King 186). The reason for is this assertion is because Robinson’s story requires the reader to hear the tale aurally and experience it orally.

The story requires reading through a few times to fully gauge the whole story, especially from the non-native perspective, because the story is not created for me. From the perspective of a non-native, some symbolism is lost to me; for example, the importance of Coyote. Furthermore, the story is about colonialism, yet not really about colonialism. From the perspective of someone who has studied colonialism relationships carefully from the European perspective, the general narrative of colonialism is present. However, the connections are not entirely stable to me, and in reality, it should not be. An exciting part of this story is Coyote’s encounter with the King of England. The King and Coyote discuss the treatment of the natives in which the King justifies the behaviour: “your word, it sounds like war. Sounds like war. If you are King and I am King, we should fight” rather than provide a plausible explanation to the act of taking land (Robinson 71). Robinson presents this discussion as a conversation, and it makes sense to the reader. The treatment of natives by Europeans is extremely violent and indeed like a war on the natives. However, a question remains. The word that Coyote tells the King sounds like war to the King, but what is the word to Coyote? The answer is not tangible for the non-native, but perhaps it is when read by a native. This world is created by their history and by their culture, not mine. I still want to know though because words are an exceptionally crucial part of the cultural infrastructure.

I do not believe that I can understand the entire story unless all the pieces are explained to me by the natives, and even then, I know that it is impossible. Reading “Coyote Makes a Deal with the King of England” is like listening to a song that I once heard when I was young, but I no longer remember the lyrics. I know the story of colonialism, the effects, and the crimes, but I do not know the details, and I do not know the perspective of the natives. There are, after all, many different perspectives and experiences with colonialism. No matter how many times I read or listen to the story, there will always be pieces missing from the final picture. Perhaps this is what King is trying to say. Native literature can be shared, but no matter how many times it is shared, it cannot be enjoyed in its entirety because the context of history, culture, and social connection are meant only for native people.

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Question 1: First stories tell us how the world was created. In The Truth about Stories, King tells us two creation stories; one about how Charm falls from the sky pregnant with twins and creates the world out of a bit of mud with the help of all the water animals, and another about God creating heaven and earth with his words, and then Adam and Eve and the Garden. King provides us with a neat analysis of how each story reflects a distinct worldview. “The Earth Diver” story reflects a world created through collaboration, the “Genesis” story reflects a world created through a single will and an imposed hierarchical order of things: God, man, animals, plants. The differences all seem to come down to co-operation or competition — a nice clean-cut satisfying dichotomy. However, a choice must be made: you can only believe ONE of the stories is the true story of creation – right? That’s the thing about creation stories; only one can be sacred and the others are just stories. Strangely, this analysis reflects the kind of binary thinking that Chamberlin, and so many others, including King himself, would caution us to stop and examine. So, why does King create dichotomies for us to examine these two creation stories? Why does he emphasize the believability of one story over the other — as he says, he purposefully tells us the “Genesis” story with an authoritative voice, and “The Earth Diver” story with a storyteller’s voice. Why does King give us this analysis that depends on pairing up oppositions into a tidy row of dichotomies? What is he trying to show us?

The relationship between creation stories and its teller is also the relationship between the West and the Indigenous people. The dichotomies presented by Thomas King emphasize the ways readers interact with the Bible as opposed to oral stories in ways that diminish the latter’s significance. King’s image that one story is more believable is a reflection of the way each individual story is being presented through the written word. The row of dichotomies that King uses to supplement his argument implores readers to acknowledge their binary thinking and address the issues in these dichotomies. Thomas King is trying to highlight a long-standing dehumanizing relationship between the natives and the settlers that extends into cultural traditions; therefore, the comparison between “The Earth Diver” and “Genesis” is a reflection of the way that contemporary society interact with Indigenous peoples and Western thought.

“The Earth Diver” and “Genesis” are both stories that are vital to explaining the beginning of life, regardless of either’s authenticity, because they are the foundation of cultural evolution. The creation myth is an explanation for the creation of the world and the steps that it took to create contemporary society. The myths bear a religious and spiritual significance for the believer, and it should strike a chord with the listener. In the case of “The Earth Diver” and “Genesis,” the latter is the most widely recognized creation story due to the spread of Christianity, while the former is often considered a myth. The mainstream nature of Christianity has rendered other religious myths and stories as fictional and, thus, unbelievable. This effect is seen in the various portrayals of Ancient Greek and Ancient Egyptian deities in books or films. On the other, most of the characters based on Christian mythic figures tend to be tamer and follow the Bible a little closer. The distinct differences highlight the systematic and historical oppression of indigenous peoples. The dichotomies presented to emphasize the critical differences between Western regimes and native peoples: the former focuses on a single person with immense power versus the power of a community. In a way, King is critiquing the way the West diminishes and discredits Indigenous peoples. The relationship between creation stories and its teller is a mirror of the relationship between the West and the Indigenous people.

The emphasis on the “Genesis” presents the notion that it is better because the tone used in the story is far more authoritative and, thus, more controlling. Meanwhile, the casual tone of “The Earth Diver” tends to leave the impression of the myth being less serious and perhaps less real. King is emphasizing the parallel between the listener and the stories – the creation stories that people hear and the one people choose to believe – the stories are a reflection of the beliefs and the upbringing of the listener. King’s comparison between the creation stories is presenting the notion that each story builds a different person. King presents “The Earth Diver” and “Genesis” as options for the creation story, but for those who believe in the Big Bang – that is a creation story too. King’s emphasis on one’s believability over the other forces listeners to give a reaction towards his choices. In making a decision, the listener recognizes their own beliefs and thus, exposes the tension between religious beliefs and cultures. The importance is understanding that creation stories are not only myths; they are the foundation of a belief system and the one that we choose to believe defines who we are as individuals. The listener of these creation myths are never just listening to a story; they are partaking in the teaching of a people. By choosing one account over the other, the listener is denouncing one lesson in favour of another.

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Home
/hōm/

Noun

1. Home is the place where our family is.
2. Home is a sense of belonging and safety
3. Home is a physical space like a room or a building
4. Home is the ties and bonds that we have to friends and lovers
5. Home is the memories and emotions that connect us to the people we love that, in turn, root us to a place

Georgia’s sense of home is connected to sights and sounds relating to specific places that she identifies as her home. Home is the emotional connection that we have to places and to people that tell us that we belong.

Haipei’s sense of home is a connection to his comrades. Home does not need to be defined by family, it only needs to be a place that provides safety and comfort.

Emilia’s sense of home the physical ties created between our individual family members to the place that they live at. Home is knowing that no matter the distance, our family roots us to our place of origin and to ourselves.

Navid’s sense of home is warmth and comfort. Home is a place that provides shelter after a hard day and family is always there to welcome us back.

Nargiza’s sense of home is quiet, ordinary, and beautifully mundane. Home is the routine that we create with our loved ones that strengthen our sense of belonging.

Jade’s sense of home is rooted in the people she has shared her life, both those who are alive and those who are no longer here. Home changes. The people we share a home with, the place where home is, and the way we identify home all change. In the end, home is a symbol that guides us and roots us when we need it.

Home is our connection to nature, to a physical space, and to the people, we share our lives with. Home changes as we evolve, and it moves with us as we grow, but the ideations of home remain encapsulated by memories and stories about our relationships with other people. We remember home through our parents, our siblings, our grandparents, our friends, and our lovers because it is in the time that we spend with them that we feel like we belong. In that case, maybe home can be defined by the people we love and the people who love us.

The interesting thing about home, both in the ways that we each define them and in the ways we share them, is that home feels familiar. In reading the blogs that others have written about home, I feel a sense of familiarity. Our experiences of home are different, but the feelings that are shared about home are the same ones that can be found in my personal definition. Home is a very general term that we learn to understand throughout our lifetime. No matter how different our lives or our backgrounds might be, home is always something that we can unanimously relate to in one way or another.

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Sunshine filters through the blinds of the playroom, the light blinding as it reflects off the pages of the worn book. The warmth of summertime clings to my skin as I race to finish the stack of books I have borrowed from the library. My little sister is practicing the piano in the background but is instead throwing a tantrum as mommy cooks. The radio is playing in the kitchen at a low level so as not to disturb my sister’s disastrous plinking of piano keys. She is trying to play a beginner’s version of Ode to Joy by Beethoven, but her mistakes are jarring even to the untrained ear. Mommy will not be happy when she hears the comments our piano teacher gives after our next lesson. I flip a page in my book, the adventures of a boy hero are far more interesting than listening to my sister whine about practice. “Piano isn’t even an essential skill, why do I have have to learn it?” my little sister asks over and over. The sun has set by the time I look up again from my book, it is a different book, and the stack has been depleted by three in a matter of hours. I at six years old can read up to five books in a day without fail. Daddy is home now, and as the front door unlocks, I rush to hide in a nightly game of hide-and-seek. Where should I hide today?

Home at six years old is my childhood home. Home is warm and loud. It is always bright and mischievous. It is forever a blazing summer day, and the world is tinged in pink.

~~~
Sunshine filters through the blinds of my best friend’s living room, the light blinding as it reflects off her wooden floorboards. The slight warmth of spring is absent in the ever-present chill of her house as I rapid-fire message after message at our other friend. She has One Direction’s latest album playing on her iPod Touch as her grandfather mows the lawn. The TV is playing a Chinese drama quietly as to not disturb our gossiping. Our other friend has a crush on a boy, and we want to know all the juicy details before everyone else. Not that anything is surprising, this boy is the sixteenth boy she’s had a crush on. My best friend and I roll our eyes at each other – we’ve heard these exact words before and we will surely listen to them again. I scroll through my Tumblr, the videos of One Direction’s latest concert are far more entrancing than my other friend’s complaints. “Why won’t he like me back, I’m not that horrible am I?” my friend asks my best friend and I as if we could see into the mind of the boy. The afternoon sun is high in the sky, and I am hit with the sudden urge to sit in my best friend’s yard instead. I, at fourteen years old, could spend hours with my friends without getting tired of them. As the door to the yard clicks open, I turn to find my best friend asking me: “Where should we go tomorrow?”

Home at fourteen is the time that I spend at my best friend’s side. Home is comfort and patience. There is always laughter and teasing. It is forever a bright spring day, and the sky is still blue.

~~~
Sunshine filters through the blinds of his bedroom, the light awkwardly splashed against the wall. The chill of winter seeps into through his window as I sit on his bed, playing with his Saint Bernard. The occasional video plays from his computer as he anxiously scrolls through his Facebook. Some K-Pop song is playing in the background of our conversation, quiet enough to be soothing, quiet enough to be forgotten. We catch up on the last five years – he has depression and anxiety, I have depression and anxiety – as if we lived parallel but disconnected lives. My best friend will not be happy to hear that I am with him, but that’s okay, I just won’t tell her. I blink at the ceiling, the thoughts racing through my mind are far more distracting than the fact that I am lying next to him. “Did you know that I still remember every little thing about you?” he whispers as my mind echoes I love you into the void. The evening sun is setting, and I am hit with the reality that in fifteen minutes, I have to leave this bubble of security. I, at twenty-two, crave the way that being held by him eases the pain that life gives me. As I start the car, I ask myself, “Where will I find that safety again in this life?”

Home at twenty-two is the short hours that I spent in his arms. Home is safe and soothing. There is always tranquillity and peace. It is a forever a winters day, and it will warm my entire being until summer returns.

~~~

Home will always be warm, always be happy, always be safe. It is tied less to the place and more so to the people. It is tied less to history and more so to the present. Home is where I can exist, exactly as I am and exactly as I am meant to be. The definition of home has accumulated new meanings over the years, but they will always be grounded in memories. The people in these memories become the characters in the stories we tell other people, and in becoming a story, the people we love continue to shape the way we define home. No matter what, home always has sunlight.

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I have a great story to tell you.

Eons ago, when the divine still walked the Earth in their purest forms and still favoured humankind as their best creation, there was a lonely white butterfly. The butterfly flew from shoreline to shoreline, from city to city, searching for a companion. At the very same time, a little girl was wandering across vast plains trying to catch up to a goddess who had saved her life, hoping to give them her thanks. It was on these very plains, at the edge of a riverbank that the little butterfly found its companion. The butterfly promised the little girl that it would do anything in its power to help the little girl find the goddess who saved her life, anything at all. So their journey began, a little girl and a white butterfly hoping to find a goddess among the vast lands upon the Earth.

The journey was a long one, but it was one that brought bloodshed and wrought havoc wherever the pair went. You see, the butterfly was not lying when it said that it would and could anything to fulfill the girl’s desires. Meanwhile, the girl’s hunger for satisfaction became insatiable, and her desires grew exponentially. The girl had a rapacious lust for power and found happiness in leaving a trail of blood leading from one city to the next. When the girl finally reached the gates of the goddess’ temple, she was drenched from head to toe in the blood of innocents and bedecked in the most exquisite jewellery that could be found. The goddess, having heard the news of the girl seeking her, went to meet the child she saved and was devastated by what she saw.
“Come, child, I will release you from your suffering and save you once more” and with one wave of her hand, the goddess released the girl from her worldly ties and sent her soul towards the stars. The butterfly, escaped unscathed, in search for a new companion.

The butterfly had spent the duration of their journey whispering dreams into the girl’s ears and the girl dreamt them into existence just as much as the butterfly spoke life into them.

“Once you have told a story, you can never take it back. So be careful of the stories you tell, AND the stories you listen to.” (King 10)

Writing the story was the easy part, telling the story was the hard part. A lot of it had to do with the fact that my audience could not relate to the story. Each person already held a preconceived notion of how evil came to Earth and my story was apparently not the right one. There was always a little detail that made the story unbelievable. Having played the role of the storyteller, I was reminded of Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie’s TED Talk about the dangers of telling one story. Every single story about a culture or a person changes the way that culture or a person is perceived. Every character holds power within their words and the stories that they tell you can control your soul and your entire existence. That is why we should be mindful of the way we speak and the stories we are spreading with our words because words have a mind and power of their own.

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Question 7: At the beginning of this lesson I pointed to the idea that technological advances in communication tools have been part of the impetus to rethink the divisive and hierarchical categorizing of literature and orality, and suggested that this is happening for a number of reasons.  I’d like you to consider two aspects of digital literature: 1) social media tools that enable widespread publication, without publishers, and 2) Hypertext, which is the name for the text that lies beyond the text you are reading, until you click. How do you think these capabilities might be impacting literature and story?

Literature, as discussed, is written text often in a bound book that creates, in the 21st century, an archaic aesthetic of having a cup of tea under a cozy blanket with a fire going. A story is, more often than not, the kinds of tales that children are told when they are being tucked into bed, or the horror stories whispered into the pitch black of a friend’s living room. The idea of literature and storytelling has been altered by technological advancements and ravished by time. Today, no child wants to pick up a book to read, opting for the quicker and more accessible digitized versions on the internet. The internet is the best teacher, the best friend, and the best storyteller. The internet impacts literature and storytelling in two ways: (a) the controller of the narrative, and (b) the types of stories being told.

Who controls the narrative?

In the past, it is the writer. The story that they write becomes the sole canon and the accepted truth about the universe they have created. It is a single-dimensional method of communication between the author and the reader. The author speaks the reality of the story, and the reader accepts this as the actual canon. With the rise of the internet in the past decade, this single-dimensional relationship has been altered in unimaginable ways. Audiences now have the power to control the course of a story and the way that it is shared. Movies and TV Shows are a fantastic form of visual story-telling that takes the audiences on a roller-coaster of emotions. Large franchises cast well-known actors and actresses to support their story while monitoring every single outlet for possible leaks.

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Dear Reader,

I am Stephanie, an English Literature and History double major in my final semester here at UBC. It has been quite a journey. One of the most significant takeaways from my years studying at UBC is that narratives should always be taken with a grain of salt. Somebody out there is ready to tell a new perspective-changing story at a moment’s notice and being stuck in a singular mindset is not going to stop change. At all. That being said, ENGL 372 is going to redefine the definitions of home, nation, and its historical connections to storytelling. Colonization has erased, excluded, and pointedly overwritten indigenous storylines and truths in order to create a European definition of Canada. A description that can still be found in contemporary notions about Canada and the ways the nation should be defined. ENGL 372 explores the different forms of storytelling and the power of stories by confronting moments in time where Indigenous traditions are combatted by European violence.

Fifteen Dogs by André Alexis

My experience with Canadian Literature is few and far, but my absolute favourite novel of all time is Fifteen Dogs by André Alexis. It is a novel about two Greek gods giving human intelligence to a selection of fifteen dogs as a part of a wager to determine the parameters of human happiness.  It is an exciting spin on the study of the human condition, one which I absolutely adore. I highly recommend it to dog lovers and those who are a little curious about life.

Dead Girls by Nancy Lee

Another text I have really enjoyed is Dead Girls by Nancy Lee. It is a collection of short stories that are centred around the disappearance of 60 women from the Downtown Eastside here in Vancouver. The stories contain considerably dark themes around women and the way they interact with their lives.

In terms of this course, I hope that it will open the floor for discourse about racism and the effects of the colonial legacies left behind. For example, how much of the recent incident involving an elderly man taking his twelve-year-old granddaughter to BMO are remnants of a colonial legacy? What are the effects of this news article on social thinking? Have stories been manipulated by the institutions of power to present particular narratives that have been approved by said institute of power?

I am looking forward to exploring the different facets of storytelling with you!

Cheers,

-Steph

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