Question: In this lesson I say that our capacity for understanding or making meaningfulness from the first stories is seriously limited for numerous reasons and I briefly offer two reasons why this is so: 1) the social process of the telling is disconnected from the story and this creates obvious problems for ascribing meaningfulness, and 2) the extended time of criminal prohibitions against Indigenous peoples telling stories combined with the act of taking all the children between 5 – 15 away from their families and communities. In Wickwire’s introduction to Living Stories, find a third reason why, according to Robinson, our abilities to make meaning from first stories and encounters is so seriously limited. To be complete, your answer should begin with a brief discussion on the two reasons I present and then proceed to introduce and explain your third reason from Wickwire’s introduction.
In Erika Paterson‘s blog, she clearly outlines two reasons that our capacity for understanding the first stories is limited:
1. “in the acts of collecting, translating and publishing these stories, the social process of the telling is disconnected from the story and this creates obvious problems for ascribing meaningfulness”.
2. “there exists a serious time gap of almost 75 years, between 1880 and 1951, when the telling and retelling of stories at the potlatch, and other similar First Nations institutions across the country, were outlawed by the Indian Act and accordingly, the possibilities for storytelling were greatly diminished”.
In the first reason, we see that the verbal telling is no longer emphasizes and is in fact being removed all together. By having the stories written down, the only thing that is needed for the stories to continue is a reader. Previously, they were told at a potlatch feast, which seems to be a sort of community gathering. Paterson effectively describes it as “a special place and time set aside where laws, cultural and spiritual beliefs, and treasured knowledge are displayed, performed, challenged, decided and disseminated”. Now that only a reader is needed, the community and teaching aspect of these stories is stripped away.
The second reason has a more political emphasis. For 75 years, which is an entire life for most, and consists of 7 separate generations, it was against the law to speak of stories at a potlatch. As mentioned above, the potlatch was a time for the community to get together to learn, tell stories, and build community. Without the ability to tell stories in this time, many family favourite has the opportunity to be lost. Furthermore, Native children were taken from their home and placed in residential schools where they were taught the traditional Catholic stories, not their culture’s stories that they would have learned otherwise.
In Wendy Wickwire’s introduction to Harry Robinson’s book Living by Stories: A Journey of Landscape and Memory, she introduces several other reasons why our capacity for understanding the first stories is limited. The one I will focus on is her argument that other’s ideas and values can impede our own. She tells how she decided how to compile Robinson’s stories into two separate volumes, wondering “how much of Boas’s editorial decisions had influenced [her] own selection process” (22). I would say that by compiling narratives into a coherent theme would be a way that limits our stories. Earlier in the intro, Wickwire explains that she enjoyed staying with Robinson for longer trips so that she could wander with him and through those wanderings and explorations his memory would be triggered to tell another story. These are organic stories. They are not being forced together; they are not asking to be linked or to be seen as similar. The stories told by a whiff of nostalgia are the stories that cause our arms to sweep around us as we tell them. They make us lean in; they keep us engaged. They make our souls salivate and have us craving more.
Works Cited:
- anashinteractive. “The Importance of Potlatch.” Online video clip. Youtube. Youtube, 27 Feb 2008. Web. 9 Feb 2015.
- Paterson, Erika. “Lesson 2:2.” ENGL 470A Canadian Studies: Canadian Literary Genres – 99C Jan 2015. UBC Blogs. Web. 9 Feb 2015.
- “Residential Schools.” Truth and Reconciliation Commission of Canada. n.p., n.d. Web. 9 Feb 2015.
- Robinson, Harry. Living by Stories: A Journey of Landscape and Memory. Ed Wendy Wickwire. Vancouver: Talonbooks, 2005. Print.
Hi Caitlin,
You’ve got some really thoughtful comments here!
Since Wendy Wickwire’s visits to Robinson in the 80s, a lot has changed in our society. Since the storytelling assignments we’ve done, I’ve started to really feel that people just aren’t really into traditional storytelling anymore. Since cultural values have changed as well, do you feel like traditional storytelling functions are still relevant in today’s society?
It’s such a sensitive topic, and I feel like we are mostly just onlookers who can never really understand. But even traditions can change. We certainly don’t observe Chinese New Years as strictly as we used to. Especially living in Canada, it mostly just means eating dinner with the family. We certainly don’t tell each other stories, but I don’t even know if that was part of our culture. Do you think we’re missing something special there? I kinda think so to an extent? I don’t really know where I stand, to be honest. While we don’t have traditional storytelling of myths and whatnot, we certainly share stories. Just not at any set time.
What do you think?
Florence
Hi Florence,
Thanks for your very thoughtful response. I don’t really think I’ve ever experienced traditional storytelling. I like to listen to my grandparents tell storied from their childhood. Does that count? Listening to these stories brings me closer to my family. It makes their stories my stories, as I will be telling my kids about the stories their great grandparents told and how much I loved listening to them, but also about how different times were back then. I think that this aspect makes storytelling needed and, truthfully, vital.
I have such a bizarre family history, so the idea of a family culture is very foreign to me. We have traditions, but few are from my grandparents – most are just my immediate family’s traditions. So I couldn’t really speak to the idea of a culture’s stories dying or being upheld and celebrated. Cultures are bound to change and adapt, especially when moved to a new country. It would be interesting to view a culture’s celebrations between different areas: for example, Chinese New Year in Vancouver, San Francisco, Ohio or Beijing.
Caitlin
Hi Caitlin,
Great post! I especially like the distinction you seem to make about ‘static’ stories – which have been labeled and stamped with a certain (often misleading) theme vs. ‘organic’ stories that have the potential to proliferate and inspire other stories, precisely because they remain ambiguous. When I think about static vs organic stories, I immediately make the connection to written stories vs. oral ones. This makes me wonder – must all written literature be static? Is there a way to print stories without losing that organic quality?
Just some thoughts! Thanks again for sharing.
Cheers,
Tarana
Hi Tarana,
Thanks for your comment and your compliment 🙂
Appreciate you defining the opposite of what I labeled an “organic” story – static is the perfect word. I naturally want to say that all written stories are static, but then I think of books like Sense and Sensibility and Sea Monsters; tales like Cinderella that have several versions; even the Bible, which depending on your branch will have different books. I don’t think we can print a story and not loose part of it’s inorganic quality, simply because of the nature of people. We want to know the truth, we want there to be one answer, we want it to be qualitative, we want to know who is *right*. Only once we care more about the teller and the impact than the specific order or words of story itself will we be able to maintain the organic quality of written stories.
Caitlin
Hi Caitlin,
Just this past week, I went to a coffee shop on Davie Street in Vancouver. This coffee shop was owned and operated by Daryl who is an Aboriginal person. https://www.facebook.com/pages/Darryls-Coffee-And-Native-Art-Shop/104072279711699 It was such an enlightening experience because I always connected coffee shops with making connections with people and on this day, I made a connection with Daryl. When I was there, I told him about the course I was taking and he began telling me his story. I must intercede here and say that I am remembering the story that he told me and I am not a good re-teller of stories. Point is, he was not able to learn his native tongue because he was not allowed to learn it. That by itself, is a huge impediment to understanding your own culture and heritage.
Then I asked him if he could share a story with me, and then he said (and again I am paraphrasing) that he had already told me many stories. Which was another revealing moment because up until that point, we were having a conversation, and he was telling me about the customers that came into his store (one of which was Robin Williams) and those WERE stories but I could not see them as stories. In my head, the signifier of a story is when there is a prose (before the story, to begin the story), and then there was the beginning, the story arc (which must include either a conflict or a surprise or a horror), and then there would always something that you can learn from. That was the format of a story in my head and so when the story came in a different form (in a form of a conversation), they weren’t stories anymore. Which I found quite interesting in my reflections. Which then leads to the following question. Am I missing stories because they don’t come in the expected format?
One other experience I have is my own personal experience where my grandmother is only fluent in the Teochew dialect. It is not a written language and has no documentation whatsoever. Hence any part of the language that I know has been directly taught to me by my grandmother. Because of this, it is a huge challenge sometimes to understand my grandmother. For example, if there was a word that she said that I had never heard before (or that was used less often), I would not understand her. When asked to clarify, she would have to use the same language that I do not fully understand, to explain that one word that I do not understand. In this way, stories that I wish I knew, or that she has told me before, continue to fade away, and I continue to fight to understand her stories.
In response to the 3rd reason that you pointed out. I could see why that would be the case. In fact, I was just thinking about that today. If one is surrounded by people who continuously see you negatively, then you start to see yourself negatively. That said…Have you ever been to a potlatch?
Qihui.
Hi Qihui,
It is interesting to see how we all observer and retain stories. I will sometimes hear someone tell me of a procedure, and how *not* to do it, and yearn for the story that is lurking below the surface.
I’ve never been to a potlatch, no. Have you had the opportunity before?
Caitlin
Hi Caitlin!
I really enjoyed your post for this question. More specifically, one of your comments stood out at me. You say, “By having the stories written down, the only thing that is needed for the stories to continue is a reader.” This is important to me because this is the way I feel about memory. While doing the “home” blog post for this class, I felt that way about recalling stories or memories. I think that memories are stored in one’s mind -like stories that are written down- and one has the ability to make those memories become real or remember them by recalling those events, similarly to the way a story remains “alive” by the reader. When doing that “home” exercise I felt that my memories became alive because, like I said, the 5 senses came to life. I could smell certain meals and perfumes and recall the touch of my old comforter. This brings me to what you mentioned about “organic stories.” During my blog post for the “home” assignment, I felt the inclination to tell more stories about home because one memory would lead to another. As you’ve mentioned, “compiling narratives into a coherent theme might be a way that limits our stories,” and for this reason, I believe that our memories are so scattered for this reason. I think that it might constrain us from remembering to our maximum potential. What do you think?! Thanks again for this provoking post!
Jess P
Hey Caitlin,
Just wondering if you would like to be in a group together with Jessica Ramsey and I (and Tarana, but I haven’t asked her yet!)
Let me know!
Jessica P
Hey Caitlin,
Just commenting to say hello and check in to see if you wanted to work in a group together for our final project! Jess P and I worked together in another class and we both are very involved and like to focus on getting the work done! All your work has been very thought provoking and I think we would work well together!
I hope this is something you would be interested in! Any chance you’re good with technology? 🙂
Jessica R
Hi Jessica! I’m so sorry for the late reply – I took reading break off and then got SUPER sick. Finally better 🙂 I’d love to work together with you and Jessica P. – sounds like a great idea! Are you in the Vancouver area still? I’m moderately good with technology – nothing I couldn’t figure out with a bit of elbow grease haha.
Hey Jessica,
Sorry for the late response – I took all of reading week off and then of course got pretty sick. Finally just getting back into the swing of things 🙂 I’d love to be in a group with you three. I already told Laura Landsberg that I would be in a group together, so would that be ohk for the 5 of us?
Caitlin