Month: May 2014

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1:3 Story Time

I used to be rather talented too.

Predictably, I have already dropped the ball in many ways as far as the running of this blog goes. If these unattractive posts suddenly sprout images at more sensible, later times, it is because the mistress is embroiled in an eternal battle with aesthetics and needs a thousand sleeps to come up with something clever during midterm season. She is also a big fan of the cop out, and runs under the impression that being honest about her folly will lead to kindness.

 

And now, without further ado. It’s time to tell a little story. Not the best or most creative one, mind you, but a story nonetheless. It may even be somewhat autobiographical.

 

Its about a man who spent most of his life struggling to tell great stories. He told serviceable ones that sometimes even put the fine meat on the table and enjoyed modest popularity, but nothing truly awe inspiring came out of him. One year, the fickle muse struck and he was able to tell a story that was truly captivating. I can’t really think about how it might have gone, but it had wit and it tapped into something so basic and human that it touched the very souls of all who experienced it. We do love what we are entertained by and can identify with best after all.

 

His success validated his existence to himself for quite some time. Flush from the glow, he was encouraged to continue, thinking that if something like this was to come out of him once, why couldn’t it do so again? Was it not proof of his latent talent? But the fickle muse had moved on to another vessel, and he never did reach that level of greatness again.

 

Did he live poorly? Well, I will be kind and say the story was such a success that he would be able to live comfortably off of the revenue from his finest work for the rest of his life. But he could not stop chasing greatness, having tasted it once, and finding another story such as that became his personal white whale. He wrung stories out of his heart like one does a wet towel, and as much as he struggled to find that precious drop of brilliance he never did. He wished he could go back to a time where he had never been so clever, so capable of portraying something so universal in such a beautiful way. It was easier to be mediocre when he had never been great.

 

Reflection:

 

The first thing worth mentioning is that I am… truly uncomfortable with speech. I can’t say why. The amount of ‘ums’ and ‘ers’ and fidgeting that happened while telling this thing was embarrassing. I’m one of those people that loves textual communication because it takes a load off somehow.

 

Having had little access to other people this week, I caught my room mates after an evening of drunken revelry to tell this story as best as I could, and I don’t think it’s quite the same because I was in a hurry to come up with something. I think one of them chose to go for a shower after.  Room mates are hard to manage. They were not in the mood, so it did not fly. Timing really is everything.

 

Later, I met a friend and told him a very hurried, paraphrased version. Buckets of sweat were expelled and the neighbourhood of Kitsilano was temporarily flooded. When the waters subsided, he said he liked it, and since I’d cheated and told him the moral it was meant to have (whoops) he even said he knew how it fit in. I felt a bit better.

 

I used to be rather talented too.
I used to be rather talented too.
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1:2 Written and Oral

Human disaster Hannia did not just sleep through a deadline. It happened but it never happened.

 

Now, to approach the question at hand: why is dividing cultures into the categories of “oral” and “written” inaccurate as far as how cultures work?

 

To begin, I’d like to draw on the first point Chamberlin makes in his first chapter: we tend to divide ourselves into groups based on a concept of Us vs. Them. The rituals and practices of our group are completely natural and, as far as we know, the correct way to do things; other groups and their customs are alien to us because in their difference, we may not see them as correct. Or, as Chamberlin puts it, “there are those who speak properly,…, like Us, and those who babble, more or less meaninglessly, as They do.” (Chamberlin 8) After years of collectively building an understanding of the world, and how to interact with it and each other, the beliefs and rituals we create become so entrenched in our lives that anything else will inevitably seem strange, and this was likely as true for the Indigenous groups confronted by European settlers who felt their otherness made them lesser.

 

The concept of oral cultures and written cultures as entirely different groups drips with the idea of Us vs. Them; oral cultures are relegated to the role of “babbling barbarians” and written cultures hold the prestige of being “civilized” (18). This, as Chamberlin points out, can take a condescending tone in which we see groups that we classify under the umbrella of oral cultures as innocent children. We celebrate how at one with nature these cultures supposedly are, how primitive, while safe in the thought that with the written backbone of our culture, we posses the capacity for sophisticated, “modern” thought (19). Thus, the distinction between oral cultures and written cultures is not so much a useful way to classify groups as a way to distinguish between the supposedly enlightened and the unenlightened. Us and Them. I think in this way it does fit in with the way groups of people would inevitably function, as it reflects the tendency for one group to value their own customs over another’s. However, apart from reflecting this unfortunate human habit, it falls apart rather quickly as humans are not so wildly different.

 

If we look as supposed “oral” cultures as primitive children with no way of preserving their history, drifting through time and reveling in the present, we have to assume that written records are the only way to preserve the past. This ignores the fact that, just by thinking about it for a few minutes, one can come to the conclusion that if the same story is passed down from generation to generation, communicated from one mind to another by orature and performance, does that not constitute a record? Chamberlin points out that oral cultures do have their own form of “writing”: items such as  “woven and beaded belts and blankets, knotted and coloured strings, carved and painted trays, poles, doors,” etc. serve as a form of record keeping much in the way that texts do for “writing” cultures (20).

 

Written cultures are also not bereft of oral tradition. In Courtney MacNeil’s article on orality, brings up Walter Ong’s distinction of primary and secondary orality. Primary orality refers to the sort of oral tradition that thrives among people who do not practice writing, secondary orality refers to “a new orality…sustained by telephone, radio, television, and other electronic devices that depend for their existence and functioning on writing and print” that is common in “modern” cultures. Here we see that old need to draw a line between Us and Them; while both groups do have an oral tradition, ours is still more modern and sophisticated. That line of thought may not have been the exact intent, but it is reflected in the fact that this distinction was made.

 

I don’t have much space to babble about how in our modern society, we enjoy many mediums of entertainment and storytelling that are based on oral performance, so I will just throw the example I find most compelling out there. I am a great fan of internet reviewer Kyle Kallgren’s work, and in this video he explores the ways in which the rhythmic structure of classic poetry can be reflected in pop music. Poetry, which was once the most respectable form of writing, can be connected to the likes of pop music, which is often enjoyed as a performance. Yes, lyrics can be written down and preserved as a text, but what I’m getting at is that when crafting a poem, the form demands that the poem sit down and organize the words in a way that will flow pleasingly when read aloud. It is a meeting of oral and written forms, and I think this is important. The oral and the written are not mutually exclusive in culture.

Works Cited

 

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1:1 An Introduction

Have a cupcake! It's strawberry cheesecake!

Oh, hi! If you’ve made it this far, you must be one of my classmates/Dr. Paterson herself… or a lost soul who might have strayed a long way off the Yellow Brick Road on their journey elsewhere. Whoever you are, welcome, have a seat (but not on that chair, it has a tendency to stab my friends), and I’ve got some cookies due to be out of the oven in a few minutes. I don’t know about you, but I love to bake, especially when I have company. I get most of my recipes from this amazing, diet-ruining website. However, I’m not to good at tidying up in time, so please forgive the unfinished nature of the site. I’ll play around with it as I go.

Have a cupcake! It’s strawberry cheesecake!

My name is Hannia, I am very close to gaining status as a 4th year student (3 credits away, to be exact) pursuing a double major in English Literature and Film Studies, and am getting too old to continue burning the midnight oil in pursuit of academic excellence. Unfortunately, old habits die hard. I started university wanting to be a writer, but now I’m not entirely sure where I want to end up.

I’ve decided to spend my summer locking down that mandatory Canadian Literature credit for the English half of my degree by enrolling in ENGL 470A with you, and maybe two other courses. This class in particular will be examining Canadian Literature, from the Indigenuous oral tradition to colonial European texts, and the way they intersect or otherwise. At its core, the course is an exploration of stories; where and who they come from and their impact. That is the premise, and our setting is Canada.

I wish I could tie this in to a more meaningful, personal note, but although I am an immigrant to this country and have my own stories/complicated relationship to this land, mine is not really a group that I expect to find record of in Canadian media and be able to explore through the course. The Latin American diaspora seems to have sent most of the creative types to the States. But I do love stories, for they are a rare opportunity to get a taste of what life can be like for someone other than oneself and am stoked to be part of a course that focuses on their power. I’m also excited to share in all of your stories through our blogging assignments. I’ve dabbled in some online blogging myself in the past, and am interested to see how we’ll be using online platforms to enhance our learning. Even if these enhancements might end up happening in the wee hours of the morning for some. (Read: me.)

An artistic depiction of me, embarking on this summer’s journey into Canadian Literature with you.

Now, to explain the blog title. I’ve experienced Canadian content before as part of my Film degree, delving through entries into what passes for our film canon ranging from jaw-dropping, to oddly compelling, and… interesting, to say the least. As far as literature is concerned, though, even my children’s literature class had an overwhelmingly British presence, which is not all that intolerable for me, but it does feel a tad claustrophobic. This summer, though, it’s time to relocate to the colonies for some time, and this will stand as the record of my trip. So, I’ll say goodbye to England and read something new for a change.

Don’t cry, Fielding, I’ll come back for you some day.

 

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