My examination of characters in Green Grass, Running Water begins on page 15 (of the ebook version), when the reader is introduced to Lionel and Norma until Joeseph Hovaugh makes his first appearance on page 25. I wanted to focus on the four elders and use of the Cherokee language in their storytelling

…

The Four Elders

Much of my examination of the four elders was informed by Jane Flick’s reading notes, however, I wanted to further expand my exploration of these characters by searching for further sources.

The character of Robinson Crusoe is a reference to Daniel Defoe’s novel Robinson Crusoe (1719). Within the story of Crusoe’s adventure, he saves an Indigenous character who he refers to as Friday and who becomes his willing servant. Friday’s “servitude has become a symbol of imperialist oppression throughout the modern world” (Sparknotes).  (Below are several artistic depictions of Crusoe and Friday).

Flicke connects the character of the Lone Ranger to “a 1933 radio serial written by Fran Striker, the 50’s television series, and numerous movies, among them: The Lone Ranger (1938), The Lone Ranger Rides Again (1939), and The Legend of the Lone Ranger (1981)” (141). More recently, in 2013, The Lone Ranger was remade. Tonto, the Ranger’s Indigenous ‘sidekick‘  was played by Johnny Depp in this version.

Hawkeye is the “adopted “Indian” name” for a character made by James Fenimore Cooper (Flicke, 141). Nathaniel Bumpoo (a.k.a Hawkeye) is a white man whose “Indian” knowledge helps him to be the hero of The Leatherstocking Saga (1826-1841). Some of the saga went on to be made into films, including The Last of the Mohicans. In these stories, Hawkeye is accompanied by Chingachgook, who is “depicted as one might imagine the stereotypical Indian — ‘nearly naked’ ‘red skin,’ a ‘scalping tuft’ with an eagle feather in it, and ‘a tomahawk and scalping-knife’ among his weapons”.

“Hawkeye” and Chinachgook as portrayed in a tv series

Ishmael is the sole survivor of the crew in Herman Melville’s Moby-Dick (1851). He too has an “Indian” companion, Queequeg who is described as “dark complexioned,” an “abominable savage,” and “a cannibal.” He is, however, entirely loyal to Ishmael, who “wakes…to find Queequeg’s arm thrown over him ‘in the most loving and affectionate manner.'” It is significant that Queequeg’s coffin is what allows Ishmael to survive, as he is able to float on it when the ship is destroyed by Moby Dick. The name Ishmael has biblical origins, but I believe that is was this the reference to Moby-Dick that King most wanted to emphasize.

I found it significant that each elder was not named directly after the “faithful Indian companion” in the narratives which they were references to (they were not named Friday, Tonto, Chingachgook, and Queequeg). They were all given the names of the white, male, protagonist in the story. By doing so, King does not make the four elders references to the stereotypical, settler-colonial idea of subservient Indigenous characters, but places them in the dominant role (the protagonist’s role). In this way, Perhaps King is working to challenge the idea of the “Indian” as a subservient, supporting-character in the story of the white man.

Cherokee Language and Storytelling

Near the end of my chosen section of this text, the four elders attempt to begin a telling story and slip into the Cherokee language. At first, the Lone Ranger tries to start with “Once upon a time”, then with “A long time ago in a faraway land” (both references to stereotypical fairytale narratives, often European in origin) and “Many moons comechucka” (a mocking reference to the stereotypical idea of how an Indigenous narrative may begin). When the others threaten to take away her turn she tries again with “In the beginning, God created the heaven and the earth“. Finally:

2) Coyote Pedagogy is a term sometimes used to describe King’s writing strategies (Margery Fee and Jane Flick). Discuss your understanding of the role of Coyote in the novel.

In “Coyote Pedagogy: Knowing Where the Borders Are in Thomas King’s Green Grass, Running Water“, Margery Fee and Jane Flick consider the ways in which the Coyote interacts with (and breaks down) borders. Fee and Flick insist that King’s novel introduces the “pleasure of moving across the border separating insider and outsider” (Fee & Flick, 132). In Green Grass Running Water, readers must navigate the borders between the known and unknown. Coyote, a Transformer, breaches these borders throughout the story. In this way, “Coyote pedagogy” refers (at least partially) to “training in illegal border-crossing” (Fee & Flick, 131).

“Anyone who wants to understand (or teach) the novel has to be prepared to cross the political border between the two countries, the disciplinary borders between English literature, Native Studies, and Anthropology, the literary border between Canadian and American literature. The most important border is between white ignorance and red knowledge” – Fee & Flick, 132

My understanding of Coyote’s role in the novel was greatly informed by the ways in which he crossed borders, often deconstructing them and subverting their significance. In this post, I will focus on Coyote’s interruptions into the borders that protect European understandings of religion, specifically Christianity.

The very beginning of the novel provides an example of how the character of Coyote breaks down the barriers of European Christianity. King’s novel begins with “So. In the beginning, there was nothing. Just the water. Coyote was there, but Coyote was asleep” (King, 1).  The biblical creation story starts by saying “In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth” (Genesis 1). Therefore, immediately a direct connection is being drawn between the two narratives and a border is addressed.

The bible describes God creating life on earth while Coyote’s creation is a manifestation of his dream. Coyote declares that Dream can be a dog, however, in the dog’s confusion, the word gets turned around into god and Coyote allows him to be “a big god” (2). Therefore, King has Coyote cross a border into European understandings of God (through the “in the beginning” reference) and then reconstruct God as a by-product of Coyote (Coyote Dream). I find it particularly interesting to consider the significance of Dream being deemed a dog (beyond it being god spelled backward). Dogs are domesticated descendants of wild canines (such as coyotes and wolves) and so this is another way in which King can be seen to reconstruct God as a by-product of Coyote.

Another example of Coyote’s role as border-crosser occurs just after the dam breaks. Coyote immediately denies causing the disaster and Robinson Crusoe points out that “The last time [Coyote] fooled around like this the world got very wet” (King, 416). Robinson’s comment inserts Coyote into the Christian story in Genesis, in which God commands Noah to build an ark before flooding the earth. The character of Coyote subverts this narrative by providing an alternative one in which he was responsible for the floods.

Within the same passage, Coyote references being “helpful” to “That woman who wanted a baby” (416). Robinson reminds Coyote about the consequences of “the last time [he] did that” and Hawkeye comments that “[They] haven’t straightened out that mess yet” (416). Once again, the character of Coyote destabilizes borders (specifically the ones between European religious stories and Indigenous narratives) by crossing them. In this portion of the passage, it is suggested that Coyote was responsible for Mary’s pregnancy with Jesus. This intersects with (and contradicts) the story of her immaculate conception from God in the bible. This would indicate that the “that” which Hawkeye refers to is Christianity itself. This marks a complete deconstruction and removal of the border. By having Coyote become integral to the story of Christianity, King makes it impossible to separate Coyote’s narrative from European religious narratives.

Therefore, my understanding of Coyote in this novel was greatly informed by the work of Flick and Fee and by understanding Coyote as a character who demonstrates the border-crossing that King is challenging his readers to do. This understanding was especially based on the ways in which Coyote breaks down the (very solid) barriers that surround European ideas of God. By inserting Coyote into stories that are typically isolated within the borders of Christianity, King uses this character to challenge the divisions between European narratives and Indigenous narratives.

Found this online: credit to https://mackydraws.tumblr.com/post/165212868454/project-i-did-for-my-indigenous-literature-class

For the sake of this blog posts length, I will not expand on the following two points too much but I felt they were important to add:

1. Fee and Flick refer to illegal border-crossing and so I would like to highlight the significance of the term “coyote” in that context, as it is used to describe people who help to smuggle migrants over borders illegally.
2. Throughout this post I refer to Coyote as “he/him” in order to avoid repetition of the character’s name, however, I don’t think Coyote was ever referred to with gendered pronouns throughout the novel. This is another interesting connection to Christianity, which teaches that God has no gender.

Works Cited:

In Response to Question 2:

The Royal Proclamation of 1763 issued by King George III for enforcement in all of the British territories in North America. It enforced a boundary that was referred to as the proclamation line. This boundary separated the British colonies on the east coast from the ‘American Indian lands’ in the west, beyond the Appalachian Mountains. Therefore, the Royal Proclamation effectively halted the colonial invasion of the west, at least temporarily.

A map of the Proclamation Line

“We do hereby strictly forbid, on Pain of Our Displeasure, all Our loving Subjects from making any Purchases or Settlements whatever, or taking Possession of any of the Lands above reserved, without Our especial Leave and Licence for that Purpose first obtained.” -excerpt from the Royal Proclamation of 1763

The significance of The Royal Proclamation of 1763 goes far beyond the proclamation line. Often referred to as “Canada’s Indian Magna Carta”, this document served to establish and define the Crown’s relationship with the Indigenous peoples of Canada. Furthermore, it became the basis for all treaty-making and continues to guide the construction of treaties in Canada today. The Royal Proclamation even informed the Canadian Confederation in 1867 and the Charter of Rights and Freedoms in 1982.

In 2013, Canada celebrated the 250^th anniversary of The Royal Proclamation of 1763. However, the celebratory sentiments of this event were not shared by everyone.

“The treaty relationships and aspirations that were expressed in the Royal Proclamation are about us sharing the land, wealth and resources of this country. That has not happened” – Shawn Atleo, National Chief from the Assembly of First Nations

Some of the potentially positive aspects of the Proclamation were acknowledged by the head of Nisqa’a Nation, Mitchell Stevens, who said, “The Royal Proclamation of 1763 is a foundational document in Canadian history because it affirms the government-to-government relationship between First Nations and the Crown.” Indeed, the Proclamation claimed to acknowledge the “great frauds and abuses have been committed in the purchasing lands of the Indians, to the great prejudice of our interests, and to the great dissatisfaction of the said Indians.” However, many Indigenous leaders were quick to point out the ineffectiveness and hypocrisy of the Proclamation. Danny Cresswell, Chief of the Carcross/Tagish First Nations community insisted that the Proclamation, as well as modern treaties that have been based on the Proclamation, have never truly been implemented in Canada.

“[The Proclamation] says [the Crown] can’t go in and invade their lands without some kind of a consultation or, more than that, it says they have to be compensated, dealt with, treated fairly … It wasn’t lived up to or enforced. It was nice to say…” Danny Cresswell

Therefore, while the Proclamation was instrumental in setting up relations between the government and Indigenous peoples, it is problematic in that it was never enforced properly.

Close analysis of this document provides some support for Coleman’s argument about the project of white civility.

Coleman emphasizes the ‘fictive element of nation-building’ by considering the “fictive ethnicity”  of British whiteness that “occupies the position of normalcy and privilege in Canada” (7). The Proclamation refers to “all Our loving Subjects” which immediately prompted thought on the ways in which this statement works to unify a massive body of fairly diverse people (all North American settlers) under one body; the British Subject. This idea of the united British Subject may have given rise to the “fictive ethnicity” of British whiteness we observe in Canada today. In the Proclamation, Indigenous peoples do not fall under the umbrella of “loving subjects”. This aligns with Coleman’s work because Indigenous people have been denied a “position of normalcy and privilege in Canada” despite being the first peoples of this land.

As well, Coleman emphasizes the necessity of forgetfulness in holding together the fictitious elements of nation-building. I was able to identify two ways in which the Proclamation potentially exemplifies this. The first is that the Proclamation itself was forgotten. It was temporary and therefore, ultimately western colonial expansion did occur. The second is that we have forgotten (or perhaps never fully acknowledged) that the Proclamation originated from the ultimate colonial power, the Crown and yet Canada continues to use it as the basis for treaties with First Nations today. Is it appropriate for modern treaties to be based on a colonial document from 257 years ago?

Therefore, the Royal Proclamation of 1763 is a document that carries several layers of complex significance. Its role in Canada’s history and in modern Canadian treaties is not straightforward nor is it widely agreed upon. However, it is clear that working to understand the Proclamations and its consequences in Canada (both in 1763 and today) is vital to improving Indigenous relations with the government.

Professor Karl Hele, director of First Nations Studies at Concordia University speaks to Anishnaabe students at White Pines C. & V. S. in Sault Ste. Marie, Ontario, Canada.  (He touches upon the idea of Indigenous exclusion from being “subjects” around 2:22)

Works Cited:

“Could You Tell Us about the Royal Proclamation of 1763?” Youtube, Voices from the Gathering Place, 21 Aug. 2017, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MRaATMirBQ8.

For my midterm evaluation, I decided to choose the three blogs in which I am responding to questions from lessons. I thought that focusing on my more scholarly/academic posts would better represent how I am navigating this course so far, although I have really appreciated the chance to work to create more creative and personal blog posts (like the writing a story about evil entering the world and sharing experiences of home with peers).

The first blog is responding to Question 5 from Lesson 1:2. I was very interested in the argument Chamberlin was making and I found that trying to break down the points he was making helped me to digest the information more fully and form my own opinions and questions about changing title in Canada.

1:3 Changing Title in Canada

The second blog post I chose is in response to Question 5 from Lesson 2:4. This post differs from the last one because rather than attempting to outline someone else’s argument, I was simply trying to communicate my impressions of a story. I was particularly excited about finding a connection between the coyote story and a story about Indigenous chiefs from British Columbia having an audience with King Edward VII.

2:4 Considering Coyote Twins

The third blog post is in response to the third question in Lesson 2:6. I thought that I got some great comments from my peers and was excited about the discussions in the comment section.

2:6 The Map that Roared

3] In order to address this question you will need to refer to Sparke’s article, “A Map that Roared and an Original Atlas: Canada, Cartography, and the Narration of Nation.” You can easily find this article online. Read the section titled: “Contrapuntal Cartographies” (468 – 470). Write a blog that explains Sparke’s analysis of what Judge McEachern might have meant by this statement: “We’ll call this the map that roared.”

Sparke’s analysis of Judge McEachern’s comment works to provide insight into how he perceived Indigenous peoples and their rights. More broadly, it provides insight into the ways that settler-colonial structures reinforce ideologies that end up manifesting themselves in the Canadian government and its courts. Sparke’s analysis begins by considering references the McEachern may have been making.

“In the immediate context of trying to open up a huge paper reproduction of the First Nations’ map” McEachern’s comment may have been perceived as alluding to the idea of a “paper tiger”, a Chinese idiom (Sparke, 468). A paper tiger refers to “something that appears threatening or scary but is unable to threaten anyone” (Youtube, 0:15). This is similar to the English expression of ‘the bark being worse than the bite’. This interpretation of Judge McEachern’s statement that “We’ll call this the map that roared” would suggest that he perceived the reproduction of the First Nations map as a sort of empty threat to colonial practices of land division and ultimately, to settler-colonial structures.

A second reference that Judge McEachern may have been making is to the 1959 Peter Sellers movie, “The Mouse that Roared”. This satirical movie tells the story of a small, impoverished country declaring war on the United States in the hopes that they will receive financial aid after surrendering. However, the US ends up surrendering after being attacked with bows and arrows and under the threat of a bomb (which turns out to have been defective the entire time). This was seen to be “a derisory scripting of the plaintiffs as a ramshackled anachronistic nation” (Sparke, 468). Understanding McEachern’s comment as a reference to this movie sheds light on his belief of the superiority of the colonial state and, in turn, of the inferiority of the First Nations.

Sparke’s analysis of Judge McEachern’s statement reveals that it appeared to “betray, albeit unconsciously, a real recognition of Gitxsan and Wet’suwet’en agency and territorial survival” (Sparke, 470). Although McEachern implied that the so-called bark of the First Nations was worse than their bite, he was still acknowledging that there was a chance that he might indeed be bitten. And in “The Mouse that Roared” it was the United States that surrendered to the small, impoverished country that wielded bows and arrows.

Ultimately, the comment made by Judge McEachern exemplifies how settler-colonial structures enforce ideologies that support a derogatory and condescending view of the rights and claims of First Nations peoples in Canada. His comment reveals that this kind of intolerance is very present in Canada (especially in the context of land claims) and significantly, within Canada’s judiciary system.  This raises questions about how existing settler-colonial structures influence attitudes within today’s judicial system and about how these attitudes manifest themselves, now in subtler ways.

Works Cited:

Matthew Sparke (1998) A Map that Roared and an Original Atlas: Canada, Cartography, and the Narration of Nation, Annals of the Association of American Geographers, 88:3, 468-470, DOI: 10.1111/0004-5608.00109

“The Mouse That Roared.” CTV, 2018, www.ctv.ca/movie/The-Mouse-That-Roared-vid1494992.

“What Does Paper Tiger Mean and Its Origin.” Youtube, 20 Nov. 2016, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S4Q1Z_eYz_g.

This post is in response to Question 5.

One of the first things I noticed during my reading of the story about the Coyote and his twin was the presence of binaries. The twins themselves, referring to them as the ‘elder’ and the ‘younger’, and, of course, the opposition of Black and White, all indicate a sort of binary dynamic, in which there is no in-between (or no grey). In reality, we know that there are seemingly infinite shades of grey between black and white and so I wondered about the significance of binaries within the story. I was led to think about the ways in which binaries encourage “othering” and the occurrence of othering in this story and in Canada’s history (or rather, Indigenous history). Othering creates a mindset that encourages divisions between “us and them”, ultimately creating binaries (discussed in ‘2: Definitions’ of this link). Perhaps the repetition and reference to different binaries throughout this story are allusions to the role of othering in the conflicts between the Coyote twins.

While reading the story I was particularly interested in the elder Coyote’s visit to the king. Upon investigation, I discovered that Chief Joe Capilano from Squamish, Chief Charley Isipaymilt from Cowichan, and Chief Basil David from Shuswap, travelled to England in 1906 for an audience with King Edward VII. (For the sake of my blog’s length I will not go into the details of this event but I highly recommend reading over these articles; I found them fascinating and had never heard about this before). These chiefs came from BC (Harry Robinson’s home) and so I wondered about the relationship between this event and the Coyote’s visit with the king, although the outcomes of the two visits differed in their productivity.

London newspapers covered the Chiefs’ audience with the King

With regard to the course theme of investigating intersections between story and literature, I noticed that the written word acted as a sort of interruption throughout the story. ‘Paper’ (and the written words on it) seemed to act as a catalyst for the rising action of the story’s plot.

When “the younger twin stole a written document-a paper-he had been warned not to touch” he was banished to a distant land and the elder Coyote was “left in his place of origin” (9). (To me, this echoed Eve’s banishment from the Garden of Eden after eating the fruit she had been warned not to touch. Some of my previous blogs have referred to the story of Adam and Eve too but I just keep making connections to it.) Therefore, the paper is the very reason for the separation between the twins, which ultimately leads to the conflict between them and to the younger Coyote (and thus, the white man) being able to “tell a lie more easily” (10).

Another example of written word interrupting potential peace in the story occurs when the younger twin’s descendants return to North America and they initiate conflict. It is significant that the storyteller (Harry) notes that the younger twin’s descendants “concealed the contents of the ‘paper'” (10). This made me immensely curious as to what the contents of the paper are. (Please leave a comment if you have any ideas on this.) Once again, the presence of the paper is an underlying reason for the story’s conflict.

I noticed that written word was a central factor in the elder Coyote’s meeting with the king, as they “produced a book that outlined a set of codes by which the two groups were supposed to live and interact” (10). The “Black and White” book was distributed but the story of the Coyote twins ends when one of Harry’s friends “having attended residential school, … could read English. But he died before he could reveal its contents to his colleagues” (10). This conclusion to the story is a vital intersection between story and literature. The set of codes that would (supposedly) allow the two groups to coexist peacefully is unable to be conveyed properly due to the barrier that is posed by written word. It is ironic and woeful that the skill to translate the contents of the Black and White was due to the man’s forced attendance at a residential school. The man’s death ultimately proves that this avenue to peace (attempting to translate of the contents of the book through cultural genocide of one group) leads only to death and does not yield a translation nor does it yield peace.

Works Cited

I really enjoyed reading about my peers’ experiences of home. People’s conceptions of home and family have always been of great interest to me (perhaps because I find that my identity is so deeply entrenched in my idea of home). I was particularly interested in Jacob Kosh’s, Joseph Um’s, June Roh’s, Navid Yazdani’s, Chino Rodriguez’s and Indra Isita’s posts.

In June’s post, she mentions that home is more connected to people than to the ownership of a physical house. The story of her grandfather really touched me. It reminded me of my grandparents. June describes how her grandfather’s home was stolen. My own grandparents were forced to flee their home in Czechoslovakia during World War II to escape the persecution of Christians that was occurring at the time (my grandfather escaped a work camp). They came to Canada and watched as the war literally tore their home country in half. To this day my grandmother mourns the loss of her home and feels displaced in Canada.

Chino’s idea that home is a set of experiences and sensations really connected with me. I especially had an appreciation for his reference to the presence of sports in his conception of home. His description of coming home from basketball practices triggered a lot of memories for me. I liked the idea that all these daily rituals are what form one’s idea of what home is.

Joseph’s story of movement through countries and his search for home and identity in different places was interesting to me as I have never even moved houses. It made me question the role of “place” and more broadly, the role of country in one’s connection to home. As well, I enjoyed the way he considered the intersection between ethnicity, culture, country, and home. It (once again) made me think of my grandmother. People do not doubt her “Canadian-ness” because she is white (something which many immigrants do not experience) yet she never found a sense of home in Canada. She was never able to culturally identify with the country (nor did she try particularly hard to).

Navid’s blog post made me expand on ideas of home in reference to place that were initiated by Josephs’s writing. Navid described home as a structure that holds “all that is valuable” to him. (I loved this particular line.) In my post, I had focused on the familial aspects of my conceptions of home but after reading Navid’s post I was led to think about how dearly I love my home too.

Indra referred to home as being something you can create for yourself. Once again, this was something I had not considered before. I really liked the idea that we have a certain level of agency in deciding who and what our home is. She says that “everyone deserves the opportunity to create their own sense of home, rather than being restricted to the house or situation they were brought home to without a choice.” This differed greatly from the idea of home that I articulated in my post but I think Indra’s conception of home is very powerful and freeing and therefore, exceptionally valuable.

Jacob’s post was similar to Indra’s in certain aspects. He described his search for a sense of home and ultimately he found that home is where you can live your truth and he determined that home is more of a “state of mind” than a place. Once again, this idea was new to me but it really piqued my interest. His conception of home, like Indra’s, insinuates that we have power over what our home is. I liked the idea that our sense of home depends on ourselves rather than on other people or places.

Ultimately, I think there is a lot of significance and power in considering what home means to yourself and to the people around you. Thanks to all my peers for sharing their stories and experiences of home!

A story from my childhood that aptly describes my sense of home…

A photo of me and my siblings on a road trip (although not the particular one that I describe in this post)

“Should I start packing up the car,” Dad asked, hands on his hips as he surveyed the pile of bags in the front hall.

“Yes, please. Make sure you leave space for the dog,” Mom replied distractedly. I remember her being bent over, double-checking the contents of the cooler. Adam appeared at the top of the stairs with Beaker on his shoulder and a plastic kennel in his hands. The parrot’s crest rose in excitement at the sight of the bustling front hall as Adam climbed past Madeline, who was sitting on the bottom step, tying her shoes.

“Madeline, take some Gravol now. And bring some to take for when we stop in Kamloops,” Mom reminded her.

“Is the scull already on the car,” Levi asked. He had emerged from the bathroom and was peering out the open front door. I don’t think anyone bothered answering him. The long boat was very visibly strapped to the top of the eight-seater SUV in the driveway.

Mom finally announced it was time to go. It took about fifteen minutes of arguing about who had to sit in the back seats, making sure we weren’t missing anything (or anyone), and Emily running back inside to get a Harry Potter book before we were finally pulling out of the driveway and were en route to the lake.

For most people, the drive from Vancouver to the lake takes four-and-a-half hours. It usually took my family nearly six but it was absolutely worth it because we got to spend all summer together with Grandma and Grandpa, swimming, digging on the beach, and trying to avoid sunburns.

This particular road trip was plagued with more stops than usual. There were Starbucks drive-throughs, gas fill-ups, pee breaks, and we had to stop for lunch. I remember that, at some point, Beaker chewed through the thick plastic of her kennel. Madeline forgot to take Gravol in Kamloops and got motion sick. Halfway through, Levi, Veronica, and I demanded that we switch seats with Emily, Adam, and Madeline (it wasn’t fair if we had to sit in the back for the whole drive).

I look back on it now and laugh, imagining that we must have looked like some sort of circus act pulling into gas stations and rest-stops, with six kids, a dog, and a parrot tumbling out of a car that had a boat strapped to the top.

But between all these chaotic interruptions we sang along to Emily’s mixtape CDs and told stories to each other. We played I Spy and then slept, resting our heads on each other’s shoulders. We’d convince Dad to buy candy from the gas station and we’d divide it up, meticulously counting every single one out so that they were evenly distributed.

It was during those times, between our home in Vancouver and the cabin at the lake, when we were all crammed in the car, that I recall feeling at home. When I was with my brothers, sisters, parents and pets, I felt a strong connection to my idea of what home means. These moments of togetherness always verged on being chaotic (they still do) but they were also always intoxicatingly fun and exciting and full of love and companionship.

So as much as I identify home with the blue house I’ve lived in since I was born, it has much more to do with the seven people (and the miscellaneous animals) I’ve shared it with.

A recent family trip to visit relatives in Australia proved to be every bit as chaotic and wonderful as our road trips tend to be

It was not a visible creature that brought evil into the world. It was The Voice, on the shoulder of humankind. The Voice whispered temptations to humankind so quietly that it almost went unnoticed. Almost. The only competition for its intoxicating messages came from The Other Voice, which pleaded earnestly from humankind’s opposite shoulder. The first time that The Voice won its never-ending battle with The Other Voice was when evil was brought into the world.

The Voice manipulated the words of humankind when it won, twisting lies and accusations and malevolence into the very fibre of the story of humankind. Every time The Voice won, humankind fractured slightly. Bits of humankind broke away. Different elements of humankind turned on each other. However, when The Other Voice won, the fractures were stitched back together slightly and humankind’s words became authentic and good again. But, of course, it was too late. The scars of The Voice remain.  For once a story is told, it cannot be called back. Once told, it is loose in humankind.

…

When deciding how to approach my retelling of this story, I tried to identify a story about evil entering the world that I was familiar with. The most obvious one, which I learned very early in my life, was the story of Adam and Eve. This is the story of how Adam and Eve gave in to the devil’s temptation and ultimately cursed humankind with original sin.

This story differs from the story that King relays in his first chapter in a couple ways. Firstly, it is a gendered story. In the story of original sin, it is the woman (Eve) who the devil tempts first. She gives in before convincing Adam to do the same. However, in the story from Leslie Silko, “no one knew… if the witch was male or female” (King, 9). A second difference is that the story of original sin attributes evil to temptation from an outside entity (the devil), while the other story describes outside entities (witches) releasing evil, almost accidentally.

I wanted to challenge myself to draw inspiration from something other than the story of original sin and remembered being introduced to the amusing idea of having an angel on one shoulder and a devil on the other by cartoons (most notably, The Emperor’s New Groove). It was this idea that I based my story on.

I found that when telling my story orally, it varied slightly each time. I ended up referring to the voices as “the good voice” and “the bad voice” without the ability to create distinctive capitalized names in written text in order to try to make the story clear for listeners (rather than readers). Often I either rattled on for too long or missing a couple details. Despite this, I found that oral storytelling helped me to develop my story better. I think that the final draft of my story had improved drastically after sharing it verbally to my small audiences. I think that oral storytelling informed the way that I ended up writing my story in this post. I kept sentences shorter, trying to imitate the flow that the story had when I spoke it.

Overall, I found this assignment fairly challenging. I am quite a practical, logical person and feel that I am slightly lacking in the area of creativity but I certainly think that being forced out of my comfort zone resulted in my greater appreciation for the relationship between oral and written storytelling.

Works Cited:

“Genesis 3:1-16 The Fall.” Bible Gateway, www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Genesis+3:1-16&version=NIV.

King, Thomas. The Truth About Stories: A Native Narrative. House of Anansi Press Inc., 2010.

“Western Animation / Good Angel Bad Angel.” TV Tropes, tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/GoodAngelBadAngel/WesternAnimation.

In If This Is Your Land, Where Are Your Stories?, Chamberlin analyzes stories and considers their intersection. He considers the significance of a title, “a single metaphor about land, in which a fiction—a story—was created to credit the fact of ownership” (Chamberlin, 228). An example of the intersection of different titles can be seen in the case of Tsilhqot’in Nation v British Columbia in 2014. Crown title is partly based on Terra nullius, which claims that “no one owned the land prior to European assertion of sovereignty” (Harrington, para. 2). Terra nullius was never fully enacted in Canada, yet “the Crown acquired radical or underlying title to all the land in” British Columbia (para. 3). In this case, Aboriginal title claims to land conflicted with Crown title claims to the land. This exemplifies the ways in which titles intersect, and how they can be based on metaphors and stories about land. Chamberlin proposes that we “change underlying title to aboriginal title” which he justifies by examining our need for such a shift and considering its benefits (Chamberlin, 229).

Newspapers detailing the results of the Tsilhqot’in Nation v. British Columbia case

According to Chamberlin, shifting to Aboriginal title would address our need for a deeper understanding of titles and their significance. All titles, including Crown title, are “arbitrary” and “meaningless” (229). However, “we have become so used to telling” Crown title narratives “that we believe it” (229). Chamberlin insists that we need to regain awareness of the fictitious nature of titles. Furthermore, he claims that we must “reclaim the unbelievability of our belief and the contradiction between reality and the imagination that lies at its heart” (229). Reclaiming these understandings is vital because “it is not the conflict between the two sets of stories that is the problem” (230). The real problem lies in our need to be reminded that stories depend on the contradiction between the real and the imaginary for their power. By making Canada’s underlying title Aboriginal title again, our need to recover understandings of the arbitrary and contradictory nature of title will be met and we will be able to perceive and appreciate the fallibility of settler titles.

Chamberlin further justifies a shift to Aboriginal title by emphasizing the ways in which it would benefit communities. He notes that Canada “has something to offer the world” and seems to suggest that it has a sort of responsibility “as an international mediator and peacemaker” to initiate such a shift (228). He also acknowledges that Indigenous peoples have something to offer too, especially with regard to their lessons of sustainability within the current climate crisis. Chamberlin declares that a shift in the narrative would provide an example to other global communities “where conflicts over land mask deeper misunderstandings over stories such as this” (231). In this way, Canada could provide a template for a new way of navigating instances of disagreeing titles and stories that avoids violence.

Ultimately, Chamberlin justifies his proposal by noting the ways in which it would secure and protect the dignity and rights of Indigenous peoples. Historically, government policy has not fully protected the rights of Indigenous peoples nor has it respected their culture. Chamberlin says that a shift to Aboriginal title “would finally provide a constitutional ceremony of belief in the humanity of aboriginal peoples in the Americas” (231). Despite the arbitrary nature of title, it “shapes the facts of life and of the land” (229). Therefore, title informs the law and the societal expectations of the people who live under it. Aboriginal title “would constitute a new story and a new society” in which progressive change could occur and the human rights of Indigenous peoples could be fully realized by the settler (231).

Chamberlin justifies his proposal by detailing the ways in which it would meet our need to recover an understanding of the nature of title and how it would benefit the global community, as well as the Indigenous communities here in Canada. Chamberlin’s proposal encourages thought on the power of stories and the dominance of some narratives over others. If the narratives we share have the ability to influence our society, what will be the effects of the stories we share today?

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