I have a great story to tell you…
This all happened a long, long time ago, so long ago that it happened before people recorded history in books but used their voices instead. All of the people of the world used to live together in one big city. This city was called Peace. All of the citizens of Peace lived together with compassion and respect. Skyscrapers of gold reached up into the sky at the heart of Peace and at the city limits golden crops of wheat nestled up against emerald meadows where powder-puff sheep grazed. No one ever felt the urge to leave Peace because, well, it was so peaceful. The Peaceables wanted for nothing.
“What happened?” you must be wondering. “What happened to Peace? The world has been divided for as long as I can remember and even longer than that.” Something happened. Something happened that eroded Peace at its very core and divided its people. Dust moved in where the golden skycrapers once stood and the exiled Peaceables were driven out in search of new places to settle. The erosion of Peace has remained a mystery for many years. As luck would have it, I know the secret of Peace. It was whispered to me over food and drink some time ago and now I will whisper it to you.
The people of Peace were not superhuman. They were regular people like you and me. They had human feelings of sadness and envy and greed. Thoughts of anger and hate crept up at times but they managed to live at ease with each other. “How were they so happy if they understood the pain of life?” you ask. I will tell you. The Peaceables had a sacred structure at the central city square. It was a temple of sorts. A beautiful, round building. At the heart of the building stood a stone figure. It was so old that no one remembered who it was meant to be. They called the figure Peacekeeper. One Peaceable would enter at a time to air their grievances to the Peacekeeper and rid themselves of any ill-will. The room was constructed in such a way that the words they uttered would echo back to them in the darkness. A Peaceable would go in and speak their darkness to the Peacekeeper and the room would echo it back, at first, before swallowing it. Darkness feeding darkness. All that is darkest and hardest about humanity reverberated in that room. And perhaps it was a mistake to have it all live together in the shadows. Perhaps it was wrong to let all of the sadness and hurt and loneliness and anger mingle together for so long. Because one day the darkness stopped swallowing the echoes and it began to whisper back a story. Layers of echoes, one over the other, came back in the form of the foulest story you have ever heard. Grievances from years ago, heartaches that had long been forgotten, sounded back to the ears of each Peaceable that entered the room. And when they left the temple, they looked upon the city with troubled eyes. Peace was plagued with the whispered story. Gossip and animosity permeated the air of Peace. As the story passed from person to person it became uglier and more destructive. Soon the story of evil was on the lips and in the minds of each citizen of Peace. Their sleep was troubled. Their relationships were wounded. Suspicion laced every interaction.
The story from the whispers boiled up until the citizens of Peace realized something had to be done. They came together in the city square and pleaded with one other to stop the stories. To leave the echoing whispers in the confines of the temple. They knew they could no longer live together with the story. It would continue to devour their contentment until they warred with one another. Life in Peace would be at an end. They beseeched the once sacred building, now a malignancy on the topography of Peace. “We were doing okay without it. We can get along without that kind of thing. Take it back. Call these stories back!”
But of course, it was too late. For once a story is told, it cannot be called back. Once told, it is loose in the world.
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I discovered that I don’t tell this kind of story to my friends and family. I felt a little bit sheepish at first launching into the storytelling form. I’m not used to telling stories in such a structured, yet fanciful way. Most of the stories I tell are fact-based. I noticed that I changed things according to how my audience was reacting. If they really seemed to be enjoying a certain part, I would embellish a bit more, and it was fun to add comments that would engage them. It was a nostalgic experience and I felt like my audience enjoyed the nostalgia as much as I did. It’s so much fun to be told a story.
When I set out to change the story I knew it couldn’t be witch people because I am quite fond of witches. So that was my main reason for changing the original tale. I like that Silko doesn’t locate the blame of evil in any one sex, race, etc. but I felt uncomfortable locating evil in witches. I wanted to avoid a Pandora or Eve situation so I tried to make it a universally human error rather than specify a scapegoat.
This was a very interesting experiment for me and I really enjoyed it. I was surprised at how easy it was to re-write the story. It came easily to me. I started writing my version at work, while I was standing in a government liquor store, asking people to sample wine. Liquor store samplings are quite tedious and lonely at times. It was nice being able to escape into my imagination and it made me much more cheerful with the patrons I spoke to. I really had a lot of fun with it.
Works Cited
King, Thomas. The Truth About Stories: A Native Narrative. Toronto: House of Anansi Press Inc, 2003. Print.
Really well written! The use of “…over food and drink” really drew me in, especially within the context of whispered stories. I am a huge HP Lovecraft fan and was instantly taken back to his novella “The Whisperer in the Dark” which speaks of untold horrors outside of regular civilization, where there once was something far different.
I also used the idea of echos in my stories, I think there is something in that. Perhaps it is a way to help add tangibility to the idea of being unable to take stories back. Rationally I realize that not being able to take words back is really symbolism of the last hurt you can cause by saying things you shouldn’t have but there is some part of me that understands it as an echo. Perhaps that is also how I understand memory – it is the same as the event that happened but also somehow changed forever. I also expressed the sentiment that evil was not really introduced so much to the world as it was introduced in *our* world – as you explained that people would express and direct their evil at the peacekeeper it was only when it was bounced back into their reality that problems really arose.
Do you think our shared (at least, it seems to me to be shared) concept that evil is already in the world is a part of a binary complex? Because I do not know how to seperate evil from good, they are intertwined in co-existance. And if neither are/were present in the world would it be a better place? Or just different? Perhaps I watched too much Star Trek growing up and am too caught up in the conflict between rationality and emotion. As a result I wonder if a rational world, albeit calm and peaceful, would be worth living in.
Anyway, great story telling! Thanks.
Such a great take on the story, Lauren. I really enjoyed it.
Like Chris I thought of The Giver when you introduced the Peacekeeper.
And like Duncan, the echoes drew me in. There’s a sense that telling a story doesn’t so much make evil real (incarnate) – listening does. This links with the idea that in bringing the reader/listener into the equation, they supplant the author. Despite it being the author’s creation, I think it is the reader/listener who brings vibrancy to words (stories). But as you showed in your story, the author (speaker) can listen too (“you must be wondering,” “you ask,” etc.).
On Duncan’s question, I remember reading an autobiography (Chapter V) of John Stuart Mill. He was raised by his father and Jeremy Bentham on rationality and utilitarianism, with little consideration for artistic or emotional expression. He later had a breakdown, which he attributed in part to this neglect of feelings and ability to express himself that would have naturally developed in him had they been deemed to have utility (which the strict utilitarianism of his father and Bentham did not). He eventually came to find release in broader interests – not just the rational (political philosophy and economics) but in poetry and nature. So I guess I’m just thinking if JS Mill couldn’t handle or ‘out-think’ the uber-rational, and if Data constantly wanted his human emotion chip, I think it’s a good bet a solely rational word wouldn’t be worth living in.
Thanks, Jamie.
It’s interesting to me that both you and Chris enjoyed the Peacekeeper so much. It’s interesting to me because I almost didn’t include the Peacekeeper at all. At first I just had the “Peaceables” telling their secrets to the darkness. When I was ready to publish I read it over and felt that it didn’t fit with the storytelling theme. There needed to be a witness beyond the air. So I rather carelessly, I’m loath to admit, came up with the stone figure and then settled on a name for it. Funny how sometimes the most careless decisions have the greatest effect.
I like your analysis of echoes. Like a stone thrown in a pond there are ripples, consequences, that stem from the source. For one of my other classes we are reading Barthes’ “The Death of the Author” and Foucault’s “What is an Author.” So your assertion that the reader carries a certain power seems timely.
The thought of a purely rational and utilitarian world reminds me of Dickens’ Hard Times. Gradgrind’s obsession with facts and neglect of feeling leads to the downfall of both of his children, Louisa and Tom. It’s one of my favourite works by Dickens. I think it was (at least partially) based on the writings of John Stuart Mill.
I loved your story. You had the same issues with your story that I had with mine. I did not want to make one person or being bring the evil, I wanted it to be “brought out” in beings that were already capable of evil. Your story was so well written and I loved that the evil stories were a combination of all the grievances, not due to one person.
It would be really interesting to learn why the “darkness stopped swallowing the echoes and it began to whisper back a story.” Would there be an evil being or sabotage that caused the darkness stopped swallowing the echoes? Or was there no more room to store the echoes?
I agree with Duncan and I too watched too much Star Trek. I agree with him on the conflict of rationality and emotion. I do not think that it is possible to live in a rational world as the human race is irrational. Is it because of our stories? If humans were only ever introduced to a rational world, and told those type of stories would our history be different? Would we have a rational world that is calm and peaceful? I think it would be easy to live in if we did not know the difference. It is nice to dream of a world that is calm and peaceful. I think it would be worth living in.
Thinking of this world reminds me of a quote by Walk Whitman.
“I think I could turn and live with animals, they are so placid and
self-contain’d,
I stand and look at them long and long.
They do not sweat and whine about their condition,
They do not lie awake in the dark and weep for their sins,
They do not make me sick discussing their duty to God,
Not one is dissatisfied, not one is demented with the mania of
owning things,
Not one kneels to another, nor to his kind that lived thousands of
years ago,
Not one is respectable or unhappy over the whole earth.”
― Walt Whitman, Song of Myself
Hi Lauren, thanks for sharing, I really enjoyed your story!
I’m not sure if you’ve ever read The Giver by Lois Lowry, but your role of the Peacekeeper reminded me of the role of the receiver/the Giver in that work.
I like how your portrayed evil as something that grows even as it is suppressed, and how it became extremely viral near the story’s end. I wonder if we were to have a peaceful society, would we eventually be destroyed by harbouring darker thoughts and emotions forbidden to be expressed? Or would we require a ritual like “whispering” to let that negativity out and carry on with our lives?
Hi Chris,
I have never read The Giver. I will have to give it a read (haha) when school slows down a bit.
I think the release of human emotions is absolutely necessary and that nothing good comes of suppressing them. We just need to find a healthy release for things. I think a peaceful society could come from open discussion of what we feel and what our concerns are. It’s when people hide things or aren’t honest about their intentions that harmful situations arise. Communication is key.
I loved your story! It was really well written and engaging. In all the stories I’ve been reading in the blogs for this assignment, I’ve noticed that different stories pull on a certain aspect that seems to be the most important reason, according to that specific story, for why evil came into the world. In your story, the reason appears to be that the citizens of Peace tried to burry all their problems in darkness. Do you think they would have been able to continue living there if they had had some other way of channelling their negative emotions? Or is the idea of a perfect, peaceful society simply unrealistic?
Greta,
I think my concept of evil is changing from this assignment. At the very least, it is being brought into question. From reading other stories, I started thinking about what really constitutes evil. My instinct was to pile up all of the yucky, albeit human, emotions. Maybe if they were all neglected and ignored they’d fester into something grotesque. Something evil.
Evil. It almost doesn’t seem like a real concept. Is anyone truly evil? Or is it a matter of perspective? People we don’t understand, or don’t easily understand are brushed off as evil. The label is a way of dismissing, I think. I find the word itself very unsatisfactory. There’s a through line in many of our stories of the less noble human emotions being categorized as or roots of evil. And I don’t know if that’s the case. Especially now that we know so much about mental illness it is hard to relegate something to evil because it’s just too simple. And in my experience human beings are rarely simple beings.
I’m going to retreat into the realm of cliche for a moment here but I think perfection lies in the flaws amid the brilliance. Peaceful society does feel far away in our modern world. There is so much going on. So many perspectives and so many issues and we are even more aware of them than ever because of our hyper-connected world. Ultimately, I think we are better off dealing with our grievances and our anger and our jealousy and all of those gross things that seem to make life difficult. At the same time, a place where I could spew all of my fear and hurt and then be relieved of it, is a really lovely idea. I guess that’s what therapy is for? 🙂
Hi Lauren!
I really loved reading your story, you are quite the creative writer! I found myself being drawn in completely to your world of Peace. I really liked that you thought of a temple that contained “darkness” where people could go to confess, essentially, their sins and negative thoughts. I wonder, did this idea stem from a religious metaphor about church? Just out of curiosity. I think the hardest part for me when I tried to re-imagine this story was envisioning a world without “evil.” Perhaps because the concept is so foreign to reality but also because the term “evil” is so difficult to define. We can all agree that certain things can aptly be labeled as evil acts (child abuse and life-threatening diseases for example) but I think everyone has a different perception and division of the line between what is evil and what is painful. I know this is an old-saying, but sometimes the things that give us pain are the things that help us grow. As incredible as it would be to live in a world without heartbreak and hardships it would also be a world that challenges us very little and that requires little courage and personal growth. Some evil that I have encountered in my life isn’t really evil… it’s just as you said, darkness. I suppose you wouldn’t know what light is like if you didn’t have something to compare it to. So when you say “We can get along without that kind of thing!” I wonder…can we? Anyways, you can see how your blog got me thinking! I look forward to reading more of your creative writing in the future.
Hi Lauren,
Thank you for sharing such a beautifully written piece! I found myself completely captivated and drawn into your story from the first sentence. The tangible description of the city of Peace played a huge part in establishing the story and allowing a certain perspective while reading it.
The concept of the people of Peace using a dark chamber to spell out their frustrations, grievances and secrets is very interesting, but it got me thinking – Is it the secrets and grievances themselves that are evil, or does evil only exist when these issues are aired out and exposed for the entirety of society to know of? In my opinion, every individual battles with some sort of evil, whether it be an internal or external struggle, mindset, disease, or behaviour. If these evils were not diagnosed, discussed, looked at, or examined, would they not be considered evils then? I feel that like anything, a label makes the article tangible, or real. A label gives something meaning. Before being exposed, the grievances exposed to the darkness were just that, words that disappeared into the darkness forever. But with the returning whispers the words became something, they became evil and were discussed among individuals as evil.
I’m really just writing down my internal thought process after reading your post. It definitely got me thinking! A great, creative “peace” of work.
Thank you for sharing!
Gillian
Hi Lauren, your story has certainly provoked a lot of reflections – thank you. A fascinating re-telling along with some excellent dialogue 😉