5]  In her article, “Green Grass, Running Water: Theorizing the World of the Novel,” Blanca Chester observes that “the conversation that King sets up between oral creation story, biblical story, literary story, and historical story resembles the dialogues that Robinson sets up in his storytelling performances (47). She writes:

Robinson’s literary influence on King was, as King himself says, “inspirational.” When one reads King’s earlier novel, Medicine River, and compares it with Green Grass, Running Water, Robinson’s impact is obvious. Changes in the style of the dialogue, including the way King’s narrator seems to address readers and characters directly (using the first person), in the way traditional characters and stories from Native cultures (particularly Coyote) are adapted, and especially in the way that each of the distinct narrative strands in the novel contains and interconnects with every other, reflect Robinson’s storied impact. (46)

For this blog assignment I would like you to make some comparisons between Harry Robson’s writing style in “Coyote Makes a Deal with the King Of England” and King’s style in Green Grass, Running Water. What similarities can you find between the two story-telling voices? Coyote and God are present in both texts, how do they compare in character and voice across the stories?

A Struggle to Enjoy Robinson 

By Nolan Janssens

Harry Robinson’s influence on Thomas King is apparent when comparing Robinson’s “Coyote Makes a Deal with the King Of England” and the  

The storyline in Thomas King’s Green Grass Running Water that makes use of an unnamed, first-person narrator who interacts with both Christian and Native American traditional figures, showcases the influence Harry Robinson had on King. For the purposes of this blog post, I will be focusing on Robinson’s writing style in “Coyote Makes a Deal with the King Of England” and comparing it with “Green Grass Running Water.” To be honest, I struggle with Robinson’s writing style. I find the subversive use of grammar frustrating, the lack of sensory detail lazy, the poetic-like stanzas uninteresting, and the character’s dialogue unrealistic both in the oral and written sense. A lot of this frustration stems from the fact that I really want to appreciate Robinson’s writing, and haven’t fostered the ability to do so. As for King’s novel, the Christian and Native American traditional figure storyline are less frustrating due to it’s more modern language and humour. Before elucidating on the negative affect Robinson’s writing style has on me, I will refer to Jane Flick “Reading Notes for Thomas King’s Green Grass, Running Water” and Blanca Chester, “Green Grass, Running Water: Theorizing  the World of the Novel.” Their analysis has done little to increase my appreciation, but they have taught me why and how to respect Robinson’s writing style. To understand the importance of Robinson’s and King’s subversive writing, one must first understand what roles Coyote and God/dog can play in these texts.

     Coyote and God/dog can take on various shapes and meanings in Green Grass Running Water and “Coyote Makes a Deal with the King of England.” Flick references Bright’s work when defining Coyote in First Nation/Native American tales. Coyote is a familiar trickster figure that lived before humans existed, had tremendous powers, created the world as we know it, can be both brave and cowardly, conservative or innovative, wise or stupid. (Flick 143).  GOD/dog is “…a play on words and names. A dog (Canis familiaris) is, of course, a “lesser” form of coyote (Canislatranis)—and a god is a backward kind of dog. Or as Robin Ridington suggests, God is contrary from a dog’s point of view. GOD turns out to be the loud-voiced God of the Old Testament. (143). In “Coyote Makes a Deal with the King of England” God seems to represent the God of the Old Testament because God seems more omniscient in Robinson’s text. For example, “So in another way, God knows that./They want to change./They don’t want to have a king—a man…” (74). In Green Grass Running Water, on the other hand, God uses more modern and comedic language. For example, “Wait a minute, says that GOD. That’s my garden. That’s my stuff. “Don’t talk to me,” I says. “You better talk to First Woman.” You bet I will, says that GOD.” (41). The language is not only more modern, but it’s less jarring. The flow of the conversations between God and Coyote are more realistic and causal whereas “Coyote Makes a Deal with the King of England” reads as though Robinson uses whatever language he feels like, whether or not it is coherent.

     The frustration that I feel while reading Robinson might not only be due to the incoherence and switching of tenses. The fact that I can enjoy King’s novel, but not Robinson’s stories could be because King still makes use of some Western narrative techniques. “The “oral” influence of Robinson on King’s writing, however, paradoxically comes through written texts. This irony is perhaps reflected in King’s own multi-faceted translations and recreations of various stories and characters from different Native cultural traditions. King connects Robinson’s Okanagan Coyote with stories from the Blackfoot of Alberta, and the traditions of Thought Woman (Pueblo), First Woman (Navajo), Old Woman (Blackfoot, Dunne-za), and Changing Woman (Navajo).” (Chester 46). There is something more recognizable and comforting about King’s writing even though it still reflects Native orality. The dialogue in “Coyote Makes a Deal with the King of England” is broken up with poetically-styled verses and doesn’t come across as natural. I find it challenging to discover a realistic and oral flow that Robinson attempts through indentation.

So finally, another time, after that,

     After they was chased around by white people,

        Long time after that,

          God sent the Angel to Coyote.

Sent the Angel. (66).

      The writing is so fractured and random that I can’t even begin to “fill in the blanks” that Chester refers to in her paper. In Green Grass Running Water I feel more of a need to fill in the blanks because the storylines with Lionel, Alberta, and especially Eli and Karen, resonate with me emotionally. I feel that I am involved in the story because by King  “juxtaposing these different narratives, fragmented texts contextualize each other, creating meaning in gaps that cannot be read linearly. (47). With King, I’m both emotionally and intellectually invested in his stories, but with Robinson, I can only understand his intent on an intellectual level—and that’s due to reading other scholar’s opinions.

 

 

Works Cited

Chester, Blanca. “Green Grass, Running Water: Theorizing the World of the Novel.” Canadian Literature 161-162. (1999).Web. 04 April 2013.

Flick Jane. “Reading Notes for Thomas King’s Green Grass, Running Water.” Canadian Literature 161/162 (1999). Web. 18 March 2016. 

PBS, Public Broadcasting Service, 10 July 2015, www.pbs.org/video/chicago-tonight-october-8-2015-subversive-copy-editor-takes-grammar/.

“Top 10 Best Nonlinear Films.” The Script Lab, 22 Mar. 2011, thescriptlab.com/features/the-lists/971-top-10-best-nonlinear-films/.

*I by no means agree with the 10 Best Nonlinear Films. I just added it because they’re Western movies with fractured narratives.

5] “To raise the question of ‘authenticity’ is to challenge not only the narrative but also the ‘truth’ behind Salish ways of knowing “(Carlson 59). Explain why this is so according to Carlson, and explain why it is important to recognize this point.

If one wants to raise the question of ‘authenticity’ to challenge the ‘truth’ behind Salish ways of knowing, one must first reach methodological equivalence. Methodological equivalence is achieved in cross-cultural studies when the researcher diminishes biases and when what is being accessed is perceived the same way across cultures. (Cheung). Even though Carlson does not use the term methodological equivalence in Orality and Literacy, he does point out the different interpretations of authenticity. To understand how the Salish notion of authenticity differs from the western perspective, one must first understand the types of stories that distinguish the Salish peoples way of knowing.

Carlson refers to two different types of stories: sxwōxwiyám/shee-ma-ee and sqwélqwel/teek-wl. Sxwōxwiyám and shee-ma-ee are two terms that apply to “stories set in the distant past describing both the work of Transformers or Coyote as they set about ‘making the world right’ by transforming it into its present stable and recognizable form and their efforts to introduce special technical or ritual power to heroic ancestors…” (Carlson 56). The terms Sqwélqwe and teek-wl refer to recent stories from recent events and generations. (Carlson 56). Even though both of these are equally true and real to the Salish people, authenticity is not part of the criteria that the Salish people use in assessing them. Instead, the stories are judged by ones that are better remember and conveyed. (57). An ethnographer, cultural psychologist, anthropologist, or sociologist that want to do their job beneficially should realize that authenticity is not a term that can be used in understanding and comparing the Salish culture to the Western culture because it does not have methodological equivalence. The same can be said about the terms accuracy and literacy.

Carlson is correct in asserting that Western academics and Salish people differ in how accuracy is accessed, but Carlson forgets to mention that this is likely due to analytic vs. holistic thinking. To mainstream Western academics, historical accuracy is measured concerning verifiable evidence which means that when historical interpretations conflict with one’s understanding, the historical evidence would be regarded as poor scholarship. (Carlson 57).  With Salish people, on the other hand, historical evidence is “assessed in relation to people’s memories of previous renditions or versions of a narrative and in relation to the teller’s status and reputation as an authority. In cases of conflicting narratives, discrepancies are as often as not dismissed according to familial alliances and associations.” (57). However, Carlson could have taken his analysis further and adopted research on analytic vs. holistic thinking. For instance, Westerns are found to interpret the world through analytic thinking, and when they encounter two contradictory arguments, they come to view the better argument as even more compelling than when they encounter the same argument by itself. (Heine 368). In contrast, people from Asian cultures and many Ingenious cultures are found to interpret the world through holistic thinking. When they encounter two contradictory arguments, they come to view the weaker argument as more compelling than when it is presented by itself. (Heine 368). This is because holistic thinkers understand that something can be both true and untrue, similar to the quote from Laso Tzu, “If you want to shrink something, you must first allow it to expand. If you want to get rid of something, you must first allow it to flourish. If you want to take something, you must first allow it to be given.” (Heine 369).  However, as important as it is to understand the different ways in which various cultures think, it is also essential to look for intersections.

While some Western perspectives view the indigenous traditions of orality as primitive and illiterate, the truth of prophets in Salish culture or Judeo-Christian Western culture are equally valid. Carlson refers to Mrs. Peters’ story about her great-great-great-great-grandfather St’a’saluk that had a paper with written text that predicted knowledge that came from Europe. (60). This is only one of many pre-contact prophet stories. (52). Whether or not this is historical truth or fiction is up to what one chooses to believe, and the same can be said for the stories in the bible. The sacred Western beliefs achieved dominance in part because they were written down; however, the fact that indigenous people did not write down all their stories did not mean they were illiterate. For instance, Carlson refers to Bertha Peters who perceived “literacy not as a source of knowledge and power itself, but as a tool for preserving certain kinds of knowledge that could have assisted Salish people during times of great distress.” (48). Again, the various interpretations and histories of the term “literacy” make it challenging to achieve methodological equivalence.

Carlson focuses on establishing that Salish peoples were, in fact, literate; however, it is also important to understand that both cultures put tremendous value on spoken stories. “Talking and language have held a privileged position in much of the Western intellectual history. Among ancient Greeks, Homer concluded that there was no greater skill than to be a good debater, and Socrates thought that knowledge existed within people and could be revealed only through verbal reasoning. In Judeo-Christian beliefs, the “Word” was viewed as sacred because of its divine power to create.”  (Heine 375).  The importance that Westerner’s place on oral communication is seen in our judicial systems, the popularity of radio and podcasts, and public debates. As Carlson points out, “those that share stories in the public forum will acquire a reputation as poor historians if their retellings are sloppy and transgress.” (57). Even though Westerners and Indigenous people differ in some ways when discrediting stories, there are many similarities in how they perceive the ‘truth’ of stories.

It seems that both Western academics and Salish people are interested in telling stories that reliably help people understand their history and culture. Neither authenticity nor accuracy can be used to correctly understand how stories affect Salish people. As Carlson states, “this is not to argue that outsiders should not ask about authenticity, just that they should be alert to the significance and implications of their questions to indigenous people.” (59). I would also urge people to find intersections between the cultures to better grasp what questions are valid to ask when doing cross-cultural research. One cannot and should not judge a culture with the same reference points they use to judge their own culture.

Works Cited

Carlson, Keith Taylor. “Orality and Literacy: The ‘Black and White’ of Salish History.” Orality and Literacy: Reflections Across Disciplines. Ed. Carlson, Kristina Fagna, & Natalia Khamemko-Frieson. Toronto. U of Toronto P, 2011. 43-72

Cheung, Benjamin. “Lecture 14: Measuring culture.” Cultural Psychology. University of British Columbia, Vancouver, BC. 1 February 2019. Lecture.

He, J., & Van de Vijver, F. Bias and Equivalence in Cross-Cultural Research. Online Readings
in Psychology and Culture. 6 June 2012. https://doi.org/10.9707/2307-0919.1111

Heine, Steven J. Cultural Psychology. W. W. Norton & Company, Inc, New York, NY, 2016.

Kennedy, Dorothy, and Randy Bouchard. “Coast Salish.” The Canadian Encyclopedia. 6 Feb 2006, www.thecanadianencyclopedia.ca/en/article/coastal-salish.

A Response to:

1. First stories tell us how the world was created. In The Truth about Stories, King tells us two creation stories; one about how Charm falls from the sky pregnant with twins and creates the world out of a bit of mud with the help of all the water animals, and another about God creating heaven and earth with his words, and then Adam and Eve and the Garden. King provides us with a neat analysis of how each story reflects a distinct worldview. “The Earth Diver” story reflects a world created through collaboration, the “Genesis” story reflects a world created through a single will and an imposed hierarchical order of things: God, man, animals, plants. The differences all seem to come down to co-operation or competition — a nice clean-cut satisfying dichotomy. However, a choice must be made: you can only believe ONE of the stories is the true story of creation – right? That’s the thing about creation stories; only one can be sacred and the others are just stories. Strangely, this analysis reflects the kind of binary thinking that Chamberlin, and so many others, including King himself, would caution us to stop and examine. So, why does King create dichotomies for us to examine these two creation stories? Why does he emphasize the believability of one story over the other — as he says, he purposefully tells us the “Genesis” story with an authoritative voice, and “The Earth Diver” story with a storyteller’s voice. Why does King give us this analysis that depends on pairing up oppositions into a tidy row of dichotomies? What is he trying to show us?

A Rhetoric Analysis of King’s Dichotomies

By Nolan Janssens

     King gives his readers the opportunity to reflect on different cultures and what they hold sacred by positioning two different creation stories in binary opposition. While King himself and other scholars such as Chamberlin caution us against binary thinking, the dichotomies set up by King allow us to analyze the rhetoric of the creation stories rather than forcing the reader to believe one story over the other. King ends the chapter with “But don’t say in the years to come that you would have lived your life differently if only you had heard this story. You’ve heard it now.” (King 29). Here, King is referring to the story about Charm, the story that “celebrates equality and balance.” (24). King contrasts this story with the story of Genesis—a story that he points out is about law, order, good governance, and, I would argue, has influenced the ethos of human mastery over the planet. The idea that Christian stories lead to environmental destruction is also referred to in a paper by Lynn White’: “To a Christian, a tree can be no more than a physical fact. The whole concept of the sacred grove is alien to Christianity and the ethos of the West. For nearly two millennia Christian missionaries have been chopping down sacred groves, which are idolatrous because they assume spirit in nature.” (White 1206). I have quoted this before in one of my comments; however, it is appropriate to reiterate White in this blog post because it is essential to understanding why King creates dichotomies.

     Even though dichotomies can create problematic thinking—black vs white, gay vs. straight, them vs us, etc.—it is a useful tool in rhetoric because of its salience and simplicity. King is using rhetoric analysis when he points out that in the “native story the conversational voice tends to highlight the exuberance of the voice but diminishes its authority while the cover voice in the Christian story makes for a formal recitation that creates a sense of veracity.” (23). King is not telling us to believe one story over the other; he is telling us why the Christian story has taken power. It is not the case that one story is more sacred than the other. After all, many indigenous people hold both Christianity and Native stories as sacred. Here, King is analyzing what Aristotle would call logos, the logic of the argument. Later, King points out the ethos, the emotions and character of the audience, when he states that we struggle to believe in the story of Charm because we live in “a predominantly scientific, capitalistic, Judeo-Christian world governed by physical laws, economic imperatives, and spiritual precepts.” (12). As an atheist (in the religious sense of the word), I don’t completely agree with King’s point because Charm’s story starts with a scientific truth about how our earth looked like in its earliest stages: “…the world we know as earth was nothing but water.” (King 10). However, the notion that Charm’s story might be difficult to believe heightens the need for simple rhetoric. The dichotomies make it is easier to compare and contrast the two stories which also makes it easier to understand that the Christian story isn’t necessarily the right one, but the one with more authoritative rhetoric.

     When King places the Native story and Christian story in binary opposition, he is not polarizing us vs. them; he is making it possible for the reader to get a sense of someone else’s culture. King mentions that “creation stories are relationships that help to define the nature of the universe and how cultures understand the world in which they exist.” (King 10). The Christian story causes us the view ourselves as detached from the world and better than other creatures. The Native story gives us a sense that we are part of nature and that animals share similar souls to our own. The Native story seems to have a better outcome for the environment, but King doesn’t dismiss the Christian story altogether because we can learn it’s authoritative rhetoric and why it has influenced so many cultures. By contrasting two stories in a way that is easy to understand, he shows us that there are different ways to view our world and that these beliefs affect our behaviour and culture. It doesn’t seem that he is saying one story is better than the other, but that viewing the world from one belief system can normalize a lot of destructive behaviour. After all, “a person who knows only one country knows no countries,” Seymour Lipset.

Works Cited

King, Thomas. The Truth About Stories: A Native Narrative. University of Minnesota Press, 2005.

Marks, Gary. “Obituary: Seymour Martin Lipset.” The Guardian, Guardian News and Media, 12 Jan. 2007, www.theguardian.com/news/2007/jan/12/guardianobituaries.usa.

Richards, Daniel. “The Power of (Splitting) Dichotomies.” Daniel T. Richards, 19 Mar. 2017, www.danieltrichards.com/the-power-of-splitting-dichotomies/.

White, Lynn. “The Historical Roots of our Ecologic Crisis.” Science, vol. 155, no. 3767, 1967, pp. 1203-1207.