Question:
“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.
Harry Robinson was told the Coyote twin story as an explanation for Aboriginal ownership of the land they had lived on and remembered living on, an explanation that may seem absurd to both Western and Aboriginal parties, but for different reasons. The stark truth that Aboriginal ownership is often pushed from consideration, that the “Indians belonged to the land,” creates a necessity for these ownership stories (Robinson, “Living by Stories” 9). However, Aboriginal conventions of establishing such ownership through stories and traditions did not match Western legal ownership concepts. J. Edward Chamberlin showed us earlier how such cultural divides in perception subvert, from one’s own culture, valid ownership claims, recalling the judge dismissing the First Nation’s woman’s “ada’ox” (“If This Is Your Land, Where Are Your Stories?” 20).
It’s fascinating how ownership establishes itself differently, yet remains, with a lot of reduction here, about living on and off of a particular piece of geographical land. The necessity for stories complements the necessity for laws across the cultures, perhaps clarifying how our myths of structure rule similarly anywhere.
This similarity is initially seen in the unifying aspect of Harry’s (the storyteller’s) two characters being twins, binding the two figures with the sacredness of kinship. A blood bond exists between twins, Here the storyteller highlights the common humanity that persists (but so often in silence) during first contact. It is also a moment of humility as both twin’s perceptions originate simultaneously with their tasks for creating the world. The younger twin, the thief, can be dismissed as evil or can be accepted as a part of all heritage as even the Aboriginals feuded and stole lands. This initial unity, I think, may be the most powerful moral message taken from the short, summarized version of the story.
The particulars of the story’s manifestation as a way to claim ownership for the Coyote’s descendants, the ones who followed the proper ordering of the world counteracts the previous humility–there is pride in being a Coyote. The pride too isn’t something to shy away from, it’s necessary, and is reflected just as easily in the “proper way of things” that Western ideology brought to North America. The written document reeks of the bible too, and in its stealing seems to comment on both the ability for a story to be misinterpreted or warped as well as the desire for people to make a story their own, to steal it. The written document, the “paper,” presumably was a part of the instructions for the “creation of the earth and its first inhabitants,” mirroring the testaments of European religion (Robinson, “Living Stories” 9).
The way out of conflict, the storyteller offers, was a book of codes detailing “the law from the time we finish” (10). The statement quoted shows that the tasks the twins were initially given were still unfinished. This gives the story a sense of an inevitable end, but also a future. Intriguingly, the two twins meet at the written, signalling some kind of forgiveness for the original sin from Coyote as well as a desperation, once again showing the duality of existence; of forgiving and needing help simultaneously.
The implications of this short story fire off in every direction: we all descend from the same family, but have our own stories and interpretations, that “Black and White” can unite on rules (interestingly in a written code), that oral and written come from the same “series of important tasks,” and many more (9-10).
My question going forward is simply what happened to the younger twin? What is the importance of Coyote requesting a law from the king?
Work Cited:
Chamberlin, J. Edward. If This is Your Land, Where are Your Stories?: Finding Common Ground. Vintage Canada, 2004.
Robinson, Harry. Living by Stories A Journey of Landscape and Memory. Edited by Wendy Wickwire, Talonbooks, 2005.
The younger twin? What makes you consider that? Interesting. Cain was older than Abel (from the Bible) yet Abel’s line was blessed…However, normally in Jewish culture, the oldest son had the significant rights and inheritance. I wonder if other Coyote twin stories address age and its significance.
When I read Robinson’s account of Coyote’s visit to the King, I inferred that Robinson (perhaps subjectively) believed the Native people did not want war. Was it because the Native people knew they could easily lose against the forces of the Europeans, or was it that Coyote believed ultimately the white people wanted to do the right thing, and avoid war and harm?
Coyote seems to have addressed the king with foresight of the calamities that war between the Europeans and the Native people would cause. Perhaps we all ultimately want to “do the right thing,” but the eternity it may take for us to communally learn what the “right thing” is requires a lot of casualties in the meantime. Maybe Coyote saw the inevitability of conflict and wanted to create dialogue, even knowing it might not prevent war.
On the brothers that’s a fascinating comparison with the age role-reversal. I’m sure there’s more filial lines to be drawn through the story, and the Biblical connection, even reversed, proves that.
Thanks for the comment,