“If Europeans were not from the land of the dead, or the sky, alternative explanations which were consistent with indigenous cosmologies quickly developed” (“First Contact”43). Robinson gives us one of those alternative explanations in his stories about how Coyote’s twin brother stole the “written document” and when he denied stealing the paper, he was “banished to a distant land across a large body of water” (9). We are going to return to this story, but for now – what is your first response to this story? In context with our course theme of investigating intersections where story and literature meet, what do you make of this stolen piece of paper? This is an open-ended question and you should feel free to explore your first thoughts.

Hey guys, I’m posting a little early as I’m out of town on Friday. This blog might be a bit of a clutter as it will be my first thoughts on this story, as the question asks. So let’s begin.

I loved this story, I have always loved stories that personify animals, hearing what someone thinks  a Coyote or Fox would say is such a cool idea. I use to read creation stories and myths that personified animals in all of my free time as a child, I remember this one book that my mom had to have rebound probably eight times because I read it so many times.

This story was a little confusing at first as the timeline didn’t make sense at first but as the introduction explains, stories like these don’t usually follow a ‘western’ time line. Coyote was going back and forth between the beginning of time to talking with the king of England. I had trouble following who was where and when.

I was also confused by intrigued by the twins, I understand that the elder twin was Coyote and the ‘creator’ if you will of the Indians but was the other twin a coyote as well? Is the story not just about white settlers but also about the dual nature of coyotes? I really liked the idea of two beings, as you guys already know from Div and Des, so I really liked that part of the story I am just a little confused as to the specifics, maybe they weren’t included because that is not the point, I am not sure.

The other, I don’t want to use issue, but aspect of the story I paused at was the pure evil that seemed to emanate from the other twin, it was a lying and a thief and so were its creations. I realize that this story teller probably faced a lot of prejudice and genocide in his life, so that is to me makes the most sense for the second twin and the people that he created having no redeeming qualities mentioned.

Overall  I really enjoyed this story and the nonlinear timeline it had as well as the idea of twins or duality. I, like the author of the introduction was a little confused as to the character of the Coyote, he is a sexual deviant in the first stories told but seems to be a calm trusting honest figure in the contact story. Nevertheless it was a really interesting concept for a contact story an d the idea of  Coyote working with the king of England is a great one, I would love to see that.

Any time  I read nonlinear stories it always makes me think of Salvador Dali’s The Persistence of Memory. 

Thanks for reading!

E

work cited

Robinson, Harry. Living by Stories: a Journey of Landscape and Memory. Compiled and edited by Wendy Wickwire. Vancouver: Talon Books2005

http://www.teachgenocide.org/files/UN%20Definition%20of%20Genocide.pdf

wikipedia commons

First off I just want to say I loved reading everyones stories. Each one was so interesting and authentic I really felt connected to others experiences on trying to define home. I noticed at least three things that seemed to be a common theme, that being a sense of home as a comfort not necessarily a grounded place, next being home as having the potential to existing in more than one place at once, and lastly that home its ever changing. These were not the only commonality I found, but these were the ones I related to most.

Starting with  home as an abstract concept, that doesn’t require a physical address is a concept very close to my heart. As said in my previous blog I came from a few different homes and have since moved around quite a lot. I grew up in Conifer Colorado, moved to Calgary when I was 16 and then onto Kelowna for university, I am current in Vancouver, and will be going to the University of East Angelia for my fall semester. So I really relate to not putting my values in a physical location by a feeling of comfort and safety, which I have been so lucky to find in all of those places.

Secondly the idea that home can be in more place than one is very related to my first point, but does stand on its own. I have found that my sense of home rests in my relationships with loved ones regardless of location. I have my parents in Colorado along with two of my childhood best friends, my sister in Kelowna, two ‘best friends’ that term doesn’t do it justice in Calgary, and my boyfriend out here in Vancouver with me. These relationships are so important to me and it is in them that I can find a sense of home in a new places so many times over.

Lastly is the fact that home is constantly changing, I don’t think this needs too much explanation. Other than the fact that our world is in a constant state of change and that at this point in my life, I can’t tell you what I’m doing five minutes from now or who will pop into my life for the better. Home as a sense of comfort is of course going to change, but it is important that it does. For me change inspires the best opportunities in life, if my environment hadn’t changed so much I wouldn’t of had so many great loving relationships that I value so much today.

I loved reading all the blogs and am happy and admittedly a little relieved that I was able to relate to so many of them, and that it seems everyone showed a little vulnerability with a subject that hits so close to home.

thanks for reading!

E

This weeks assignment was really intriguing for me, as it is a question  I think about often regardless of academics. For this blog I am just going to lay my life story on the table, it is the best way  I can explain my sense of home and my values.

My story starts about three years before I was even born, my mother and father, Kathy and Jim, had been trying for quite some time to get pregnant and start a little family. Sadly my mother was unable to conceive and so for about two years they wrangled with the idea of adoption.

One day while at work my mother was recounting her troubles and possible adoption with a friend, who just happened to have another friend, Kim, who was putting her baby up for adoption, it was a match no one could overlook.

So my parents flew from Colorado to Texas and met Kim and her boyfriend, but not the babies father, Sonny. All four hit it off right away, Kim loved my parents and they loved her. Fast-forward nine months and little baby Ralls, or as she is known today Elizabeth, went home to Colorado as my parents first child.

My parents were overjoyed with their little girl and Kim was happy she gave Elizabeth a better shot at life than she could provide. I’ll stop the narrative now to point out how incredibly brave Kim is, this goes without saying but her heart is one to be marvelled at.

Two years later, my parent’s telephone rang, it was Kim, she casually asked them if they wanted another baby. Again it seems the fates intervened as my parents had just began talking about adopting another child. So like with Elizabeth my parents flew down to Texas and met with Kim and Sonny, who was the father this time. Another family was hoping to adopt this baby so my parents really wanted to make a good impression, luckily for me they did.

Along came May 21 and I popped into the world premature and blue ( I had decided I wasn’t quite ready to begin breathing). My mom was in the delivery room and shared a truly blessed moment with Kim as the doctors whisked me away.

Everything seemed perfect, Kim and Sonny knew their daughter would have so many wonderful opportunities in life and my parents welcomed little baby me home. Sadly this bliss was not as smooth as Elizabeth’s had been and about three weeks after my birth, Kim and Sonny decided to try and raise me on their own. It was a part of the adoption agreement that birthparents had the right to take back the child for up to six months.

My parents were devastated, everyone was. My father met Kim in Colorado and sadly handed me over, my mother couldn’t be there, she was trying to comfort Elizabeth who couldn’t understand why her baby sister just disappeared.

I only learned of this story about seven years ago when I was thirteen, so every time I am writing here was once unknown to me.

Then as quickly as I had been taken back, Kim and Sonny realized I would have a much better life with Kathy and Jim and so again they  called my parents, who quickly came to Texas and finalized the adoption, this time leaving no room for change.

Nothing else happened except for being raised by incredible parents who allowed to know that I was adopted and to form a relationship with my birthparents, for me it has never been a question of who my parents are but a statement of how many people I am lucky for. I have my mom and my dad and Kim and Sonny.

I wrote about this story because for me it has shaped who I consider my family, all of them, and what values I learn from my own story.

I don’t really consider home a place but rather a feeling and for me it is when I am near my loved ones, I have moved a lot in my life and have had my parents living in two different countries, and my sister in another for almost five years. Yet I do not feel like I have no home, rather my home is where they are, where my heart is.

I learned to value bravery and love above all else, both my parents and birthparents are the strongest people I know and I will always look up to them, what they did  for Elizabeth and I is an act of love I can only dream of experiencing. They opened their hearts and put their vulnerabilities out there in order to provide for my sister and I. I am eternally grateful for all of them.

I strive in my everyday life to be as open and brave as they are and to keep what I consider my home close to my heart. I am so lucky to be where I am today and I have my family, which is every growing as I make my own special relationships, to thank for that.

Wherever they are that is where my home is.

Way back when, before the skies, before the stars, before anything, two beings existed. Two beings that were not like anything today, they had no characteristics, no size, colour, shape, smell, nothing they just simply were.

These beings lived for many years, thousands and thousands of years, in simple harmony with each other, exploring the big nothing that surrounded them.

One day the beings began to push into each other’s space, they began to test each other, to test dominance. They had grown tired of their peace. The two beings decided that they should be different; they wanted to be able to tell themselves apart.

So there in the big nothing these two beings that were pure entities of energy decided to give themselves an identity. The first being chose to keep its shapelessness but gave itself a white dewy color; it also chose a name, Div. Once Div had created itself the second entity wanted to do the same, it chose a colour as well, a murky grey and because it wanted to be different than Div it gave itself more rigid and sharper edges. The second entity wanted a name as well, but again it had to be different than Div, it chose the name Des.

Div and Des were quite happy with themselves and the time they had spent on making something in the big nothing. However much like they had grown tired of their peacefulness, they grew tired of their new characteristics they wanted to create more.

Div decided to create a tiny ball with blue liquid and green mush. Div was so proud of the little ball it was pretty and warm and made Div feel a sense of love inside it’s being. Div wanted more of that love feeling, so it decided to create little tiny moving fluffy things. Div made them big and small, Div made them like water or like the green mush, there were flying ones and swimming ones, things that burrowed and things that lived in the tall green mushy parts. Div loved her little ball with it’s little inhabitants and quickly forgot about Des, Div was too consumed by watching her ball to even notice what Des was doing.

Des became jealous that something else for the first time had Div’s attention. Des tried to create her own little blue ball but Des was too angry to make it as warm and as happy as Div’s and no little fluffies would stay on it. Des tried and tried and with every attempt Des became angrier and the balls became less blue and less happy.

Div was busy naming the blue ball and it’s inhabitants to see how upset Des was becoming. Div named the blue ball Earth and the liquid parts the seas and the green mushy parts the land and forests. The inhabitants all got names too, there were elephants who were big and smart, whales that were the elephants of the sea, mice which burrowed and scurried around, foxes that were beautiful and cunning, just to name a few. Div was growing more and more loving and warm with every new name or thing it created.

Des finally had enough, it had been years since Div gave any attention to Des and Des could no longer even form a ball; there was too much anger. Des sat and stewed for many years trying to think of a way to get back at Div, until one day Des thought up the perfect plan. Des knew the only thing that Div cared about was the little Earth and since Des could not make it’s own it decided to hurt Div’s. Des created rain clouds, practicing by sending little rainstorms over Div’s Earth. At first Div did not mind, the rain helped the land and forests grow which kept all the inhabitants happy.

This only enraged Des more, Des sat and practiced making the rain and liquids even more violent, until one day Des had created what it called a hurricane, a thunder storm, a flash flood, and lightening. Des was so delighted with it’s creation that for a moment Des hesitant to send it over Div’s Earth. Unfortunately the anger Des felt for Div was still growing.

Des sent all of it’s creations over Earth all at once. Div couldn’t stop it, the storms ravaged the little blue ball and overwhelmed the inhabitants, most of which never got up.

Div was devastated and Des was overjoyed, but only for a moment. Div quickly remade all the things that had perished and warned them all to lookout for Des, for Des was sure to do it again.

Sadly as much as Div warned them, the inhabitants didn’t know what to look for, they had no way to tell what Des was. So Des sent waves of storms and Div remade waves of inhabitants, for many years this was Earth’s cycle.

Finally the cunning fox asked Div what the storms names were, Div paused and said well Des created them, but Div had no name for the actually storms. Then an wise owl chimed in and suggested they name Des’s storms so they could warn each other and have a fighting chance. Div loved this idea and quickly asked all her creations what they wanted to call Des’s storms.

The inhabitants of Earth decided on Evil, it wasn’t similar to Div or any other name given and it was short enough to be shouted quickly as to warn each other of Des’s storms.

From then on Earth and it’s inhabitants knew Evil was out there and that it would come and try to hurt them, they knew that when Evil was shouted they needed to protect themselves.

Earth now knew Evil existed and some inhabitants were still caught in Des’s storms but more survived knowing Evil was out there.

Div still remakes those inhabitants that perished and Des is still trying to destroy Div’s earth, and every time Div makes someone new, they hear the story of how Evil came into their world. Div stays one step ahead of Des because, once you have told a story, you can never take it back, it can never disappear.

Here is a link to the audio that inspired my story – Beethoven’s 6th Symphony, I can picture Div and Des in this.

thanks for reading, talk soon!

E

I chose to answer to question number 7 for this weeks post,

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?

I think in order to answer this question we have to look at two of the main themes from this weeks readings, one being of course hypertext, social media tools and the new world of online stories, and the other being intersections. The new world of online text without limit that can spread like wild fire across the entire globe in a matter of minutes changes the role of writer, reader, and listener. When I log into my Facebook and see posts for the 10 most outrageous whatevers of this week, a trending article, or a developing news story and I chose to click in that moment I take control of my reader role and turn into an active reader, listening, and potential publisher. This is an environment new to us and it is really exciting. At first I am a reader but by choosing the setting, method, and distractions around I also become a listener, even more so if what I clicked on has a audio component, a video, radio or music.  However the intersection of reader and listener is not alone, because of the non-publisher requirements of online stories I also become a sort of writer if I choose to pass the story along and contribute to the widespread publication of any given story.

The next component of my answer has to do with hypertext which makes the intersection in which all three roles interact even larger, allowing for even more of a a grey zone between the three listed roles. I know by know I sound like a broken record but writing down these themes and explanation of the connections I have made in my head helps me and hopefully you guys to understand where my mind has wandered to. Hypertexts require participation on the part of the reader or listener, you actually have to follow what is being said and are given an opportunity to read in greater detail what the original author intended the context of their story to be.

I think hypertext is a really cool idea and that it will help students and the western world to move away from our favourite literary past time of cat herding. I love that metaphor of a cat herding, I cant help but giggle every time I think of how that would look, this is probably how Chamberlain felt when explaining how we try to organize orality. This is probably my favourite discovery from this weeks reading, the idea that we should regard stories, reader, writer, and listener roles, and orality in not a hierarchical sense but a ever changing, flowing, equal plane on which to share, grow, and develop our stories together.

Just as a last note, hypertext and the new online world we’ve been discussion made me think of youtube and video interacts, I follow a few people on youtube and totally get a sense of participation in their videos even though its possible to be worlds apart. One of the girls I follow is really about self love and being happy and supportive of each other no matter what, give her videos a watch! here

found this… its wonderful!

talk soon,

E

Bibliography

The Chicago School of Media Theory, “orality”. accessed May 22nd 2015. https://lucian.uchicago.edu/blogs/mediatheory/keywords/orality/

Chamberlin, J. Edward If this is your land, where are your stories?: finding common ground. Toronto: A.A. Knopf Canada, 2003. Print.

Hello, I go by Erica and this class is helping me to complete my first undergrad in History and in English. I am enjoying and yet overwhelmed by online classes and I took this course in hopes of educating myself in the world of blogs and Canadian literature simultaneously.

I am, like I said, new the world of blogging and online discourse but I am really excited and reading all of your guys blogs has really inspired me to give it go myself. I am currently in the middle of my third and fourth year at UBC and currently have taken a interest in the theory of language. What I mean by that is the methods in which writers, theorist, historians, journalists, etc use to evoke a response, lately I find my responses to the literature I have been assigned to one, of curiously and confusion. I personally think that is the best combination. I love when a piece of writing or presentation stops my ever-changing, constantly active crazy mind, and forces it to focus on the ideas presented, this is what I hope and am certain this class will provide.

For a little background and step outside my mind palace (any Sherlock fans out there?).  I grew up in Colorado and moved to Canada when I was sixteen. I was adopted at birth from two amazing people and identify with my birth father as a member of the Kiowa tribe.  The Kiowa tribe are plains people known for the hunting and horse riding ability, an activity I have pursued since I could sit on a horse. This and Canadian literature go hand in hand for me, Canada has such a rich aboriginal history and I am eager to explore it. I was first exposed to Canadian literature in my first year of university and have been wanting to revisit it ever since. One of the most memorable books I encounter was The Imaginary Indian by Daniel Francis, here is the hyperlink incase any of you guys are interested, its amazing read, http://www.danielfrancis.ca/books/imaginary-indian. As much as I identify with my tribe I was raised in a non Kiowa household by two amazing and unique parents. My dad is a sailor and my mom is every bit a feminist as you can be, well they both are. So I was raised to believe everyone in every light is equal and the human race should be celebrated equally. One way I really like to express this, or to celebrate feminism is through photography and movements based around photography. One movement or project I follow closely is Project Unbreakable, where victims of sexual assaults take back the words used to hurt them, http://projectunbreakable.tumblr.com/ it is well worth your time. I know this course isn’t intentionally focused on feminism or gender studies but I believe all literature reveals an observation on gender and I hope that is topic our class at least touches on.

I will finish up with a photo that I hopes give you all an insight into my crazy mind thats full of curiosity, understanding, eagerness and compassion .This photo is a funny quote that outlines how I see the world, I think the smallest things can have the biggest impacts.

I am really looking forward to this class and learning with you guys!

Talk soon,

E

work cited

Francis, Daniel. “The Imaginary Indian:The Image of the Indian in Canadian Culture” Daniel Francis: Reading the National      Narrative. Web. 18 May 2015.

Tumblr. “Project Unbreakable”. Web. 18 May 2015.