ASTU 100 at UBC has explored many different facets of life narratives. As such any future texts to be looked at ought to bring something new and unique to the table, which is why I propose Heart Berries by Terese Marie Mailhot. It documents her traumatic childhood living in poverty on the Seabird Island First Nation Indian reservation with an abusive, alcoholic father (Evans), her struggles with her identity in a country that heavily stereotypes Indigenous peoples (“’We Don’t See a Person’”), and her experiences with mental illness. In doing so, Mailhot is able to reconcile herself with her past, and “seizes control of her story” (“Heart Berries”).

Donna Cheng. Heart Berries Book Cover. Courtesy of Goodreads.

Because it deals with the intersection of many topics discussed in class, such as memory (“Heart Berries”), identity, and self-representation (“’We Don’t See a Person’”), Heart Berries has the potential to extend these discussions in a new way. Further, because it deals with indigeneity, a topic only briefly discussed in ASTU 100, it can expand students’ understanding of Canada’s colonial history and the power memoir can have in resisting the effects of this history. To demonstrate the memoir’s value to literary studies students, I’ll briefly explore two potential avenues for research; how it bears witness to marginalization, and issues of who has the authority to speak for a group.

One potential topic for future students to look at is how the memoir bears witness to the marginalization of Indigenous peoples and people with mental illnesses. The work of Schaffer and Smith on how life narratives can present “alternative or counter-histories coming from the margins” and the impacts this can have on human rights (4) could be applied here. Mailhot’s personal experiences, as outlined in her memoir, may be seen to bear witness to the discrimination she likely faced as a mentally ill, Indigenous woman. As such, it could be argued that the memoir has the potential to impact the way the public sees such marginalized groups, and thus can possibly increase human rights for them (Schaffer and Smith 1).

Issues around who has the authority to speak for a marginalized group, and what the implications of this are could also be raised. In line with Couser’s assertion that disability life narratives (though his conclusions are more broadly applicable) often conform to certain rhetorics that can inhibit their potential to challenge common perceptions (31-48), an argument could be made that Heart Berries conforms to the so-called rhetoric of “triumph over adversity” (33). Seeing as Mailhot, who is now a successful, “post doctoral fellow at Purdue University” (“‘We Don’t See a Person’”), can be seen to have overcome the traumas of her past (though this is not to say she has overcome her indigeneity), she may be perceived as a more authoritative narrator than those who are still bound by their pasts. In contrast with the analysis based on Schaffer and Smith, Couser’s framework suggests that this lessens the ability of the memoir to act as a counter-narrative, as it only “removes the stigma… from the author” (34).

There’s the potential for many discussions around representation, trauma, memory, and more in regard to Terese Marie Mailhot’s memoir Heart Berries, which is why it is such a fruitful memoir for burgeoning literary scholars to examine. In-depth analyses of this memoir could illuminate not only how it bears witness to marginalization, and who is considered an “authoritative” narrator, but also could add to the larger scholarly conversation on the potential for life narratives to challenge existing perceptions (Couser 31, Schaffer and Smith 4). It is for these reasons that I propose Heart Berries as the next text for ASTU classes to read, in the hopes that it enriches their understanding of life narratives.

Works Cited

Cheng, Donna. Heart Berries Book Cover. Goodreads, www.goodreads.com/book/show/35840657-heart-berries?from_choice=true.

Couser, G. Thomas. “Rhetoric and Self-Representation in Disability Memoir.” Signifying Bodies: Disability in Contemporary Life Writing. University of Michigan Press, 2009, pp. 31-48.

Evans, Diana. “Heart Berries by Terese Marie Mailhot Review – a Raw, Rich Indigenous Memoir.” The Guardian, 4 Aug. 2018, www.theguardian.com/books/2018/aug/04/heart-berries-by-terese-marie-mailhot-review.

“Heart Berries: A Memoir by Terese Marie Mailhot.” BookBub, www.bookbub.com/books/heart-berries-by-terese-marie-mailhot-sherman-alexie-joan-naviyuk-kane?source=tbbb_books.

Schaffer, Kay and Sidonie Smith. “Conjunctions: Life Narratives in the Field of Human Rights.” Biography, vol. 27, no. 1, 2004, pp. 1-24.

“‘We Don’t See a Person’: Terese Marie Mailhot Confronts Indigenous Stereotypes in Memoir.” CBC Radio, 9 May 2018, www.cbc.ca/radio/thecurrent/the-current-for-may-9-2018-1.4654246/we-don-t-see-a-person-terese-marie-mailhot-confronts-indigenous-stereotypes-in-memoir-1.4654250.

“Jack Stickney”

Jack Stickney was a Canadian soldier who fought and died in WWI on December 18, 1915 (Locke). Many of his documents are preserved in UBC’s Rare Books and Special Collections and provide insight into his life and death. One of these documents, a letter sent to Mrs. Stickney by Lieut. William Beecher Locke, informs her of her son’s passing and offers condolences. Using Victoria Stewart’s insights into WWI memoirs, I will demonstrate that Locke’s letter is representative of the experience of writing about war because it follows certain conventions, but also that its more personal nature offers insight into the war that other sources may not be able to provide.

Stewart notes that when writing about war, people struggle to “glorify those who died in war without glorifying war itself” (Winter quoted in Stewart 38). This theme is present in Locke’s letter, as he writes “your boy was in every sense of the word a ‘good’ soldier,” and further that “we looked on him as one of the best” (1), thus glorifying Jack Stickney. Locke also mentions that Stickney died “in the defence of the innocent” (2), and though it seems to justify the war, it also fulfills another of Stewart’s conventions. She asserts that “patriotism can give a purpose to, if not comfort for, the loss” (43), and because this apparent glorification of the war is very minimal in the letter, it is more likely a commendation of Stickney’s patriotism. Thus, by fulfilling what Stewart outlines as the qualities of war writings, it can be said that it is representative of the genre and the experience of writing about war.

There are also some aspects that make Locke’s letter less conventional. It seems to demonstrate a personal connection to Stickney, evident in the praises of his character, the claim that he “lay down his life for his friends” (Locke 2), and the fact that Locke took the time to hand-write it. Popular sources often depict a contrasting image, with loved ones being informed of the deaths of soldiers through telegrams (“Death Notification”). The efficient and impersonal nature of telegrams as a way to inform loved ones of a death elicits the image of the ‘war machine’ uninterested in individual lives. And while telegrams were most likely the main method used (indeed, the Stickney fonds includes a telegram to Mrs. Stickney apprising her of Jack’s death), the handwritten, personal letter from Locke invites a more nuanced take. By recognizing that there were more than just the quick, insincere telegrams sent by a bureaucratic system that seems to devalue those who fight for it, but also expressions of “heartfelt sympathy” (Locke 2) we can re-evaluate the notion of the ‘war machine.’ This is validated by the fact that the letter is representative of the genre of war writing (according to Stewart’s view).

Overall, Locke’s letter to Mrs. Stickney is representative of the genre of war writings, and by extension the experience of writing about war, as it conforms to Stewart’s notion of “glorify[ing] those who died in war without glorifying war itself” (38) and of consolation through patriotism. Due to its handwritten, personal nature, it can also deepen our understanding of remembrance, the unique intimacy between soldiers, and can question the notion of the ‘war machine.’

Works Cited

“Death Notification.” Wikipedia, Wikimedia Foundation, 18 Nov. 2018, en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Death_notification.

“Home.” Rare Books and Special Collections, UBC, rbsc.library.ubc.ca/.

“Jack Stickney.” Photographic postcard. n.d. Box 1 File 15. Jack Stickney fonds. University of British Columbia Library Rare Books and Special Collections, Vancouver, Canada.

Locke, William Beecher. Letter from William Beecher Locke to Mrs. C. H. Stickney. 18 Dec. 1915. Box 1 File 18. Jack Stickney fonds. University of British Columbia Library Rare Books and Special Collections, Vancouver, Canada.

Stewart, Victoria. “‘War Memoirs of the Dead’: Writing and Remembrance in the First World War.” Literature & History, vol. 14, no. 2, Nov. 2005, pp. 37–52, doi:10.7227/LH.14.2.3.

Brandon Stanton’s massively popular blog “Humans of New York” (HONY), with over 18 million likes on Facebook, and two bestselling books, documents the diverse stories (and photos) of people in New York, later expanding to several other countries (“About”). It serves to make public the stories of marginalized people, and as the name suggests, to “humanize the ‘other’” (Erdener 374). I will establish that this is achieved through the use of affective (i.e. emotion-based) storytelling, a concept Anna Poletti examines thoroughly in her article “Coaxing an Intimate Public: Life Narrative in Digital Storytelling.” Utilizing Poletti’s observations of the inherent hegemony of digital life narratives, and the limitations of affective narratives (81), I will demonstrate that though HONY establishes a universal human connection (Erdener 374) between readers and subjects, it does not entirely fulfill its potential to effect real political change.

Poletti asserts that certain themes are common in life narratives, and she cites Burgess’ classification of these themes as those of “life, loss, belonging, hope for the future, friendship and love” (Burgess cited in Poletti 81). Poletti argues that digital life narratives often conform to our culture’s view of an ideal life, and thus aren’t fully capable of challenging this political and social hegemony (81).

Fig. 1 Screenshot of a HONY post: Stanton, Brandon. “I started bodybuilding after my chemotherapy…” Facebook, 4 Nov. 2018.

In its attempt to create a universal appeal to its readers, HONY unfortunately conforms to these ideals. In Fig. 1 alone we can see several examples of these themes; the subject’s sense of belonging (in the bodybuilding community), life (her triumph over cancer), and hope for the future (her growing self-acceptance in the face of intolerance). This conformity is likely elicited through guiding questions asked by Stanton. Especially when telling minority stories (as HONY often does), it is imperative to overcome hegemony, so the need for political change becomes apparent. In conforming to these ideals, however, HONY only ensures its stories are well received, it cannot encourage activism.

Poletti also draws attention to Berlant’s observations of the issues of affective narratives. Because they present pain and suffering as universal experiences, they create a sort of political apathy among readers; because suffering is universal, it can’t be helped. Thus, though these narratives do foster empathy, they cannot bring about real political change (Berlant cited in Poletti, pp. 80). As is evident in Fig. 1, HONY often utilizes emotional narratives. By situating the stories in feelings readers are familiar with, HONY creates a feeling of universal connection, but Poletti’s theory states it cannot do much more than that(80). Further, the nature of Facebook may “persuade [Stanton’s] audiences to click ‘like’ without having to do anything more” (Erdener 375), keeping in line with Poletti’s idea of political apathy.

Humans of New York documents the stories of marginalized people and cultivates an idea of a universal human experience that reminds us all how similar we are. However, its potential to bring about real political or social change is impeded by what Anna Poletti presents as the common issues of digital life narratives. In her article “Coaxing an Intimate Public: Life Narrative in Digital Storytelling,” Poletti proposes that these issues are the “inherent hegemonic function” (81) of the universality of digital life narratives, as well as their affective nature contributing more to a “vaguely civic-minded ideal of compassion” (Berlant cited in Poletti 80) than to any real change. Though it is true that in these ways HONY may not reach its full potential to effect change, it does “dismantle the otherwise pervasive narrative of irreconcilable differences” (Erdener 376), which is sorely needed in a world that too often focuses on those differences.

Works Cited

“About.” Humans of New York, 18 Sept. 2012, www.humansofnewyork.com/about. Accessed 6 Nov. 2018.

Erdener, Jasmine. “Humans of New York and Ethical Reflections in the Digital Age.” Communication and the Public, vol. 1, no. 3, Sept. 2016, pp. 372–376.

Poletti, Anna. “Coaxing an Intimate Public: Life Narrative in Digital Storytelling.” Continuum, vol. 25, no. 1, 2011, pp. 73-83.

Stanton, Brandon. “Humans of New York.” Facebook, 2010, www.facebook.com/humansofnewyork/. Accessed 6 Nov. 2018.

Stanton, Brandon. “I started bodybuilding after my chemotherapy…” Facebook, 4 Nov. 2018, www.facebook.com/humansofnewyork/photos/a.102107073196735/2645549015519182/?type=3&theater. Accessed 7 Nov. 2018.

As told by “Shining Path,” during 1980 to 1999 in Peru, a communist group called the Shining Path terrorized communities. Their aim was to institute communism first in Peru, then to expand to the entire world. They believed that death for their movement was the ultimate sacrifice, and they reinforced this ideal through “blood quotas” which often resulted in large-scale executions. The rural village of Ayacucho was one of their primary footholds, as it was made up of vulnerable indigenous peoples who often felt alienated from Peruvian culture. As a result of this affiliation, the Peruvian military would go on to decimate Peru’s indigenous population (2015).

Piraq Causa, meaning “who’s to blame”, is a feature in the “Arts of Resistance” exhibit at UBC’s Museum of Anthropology. This series of 5 paintings depicts the Shining Path conflicts of Peru, events which resulted in over 69,000 people, largely made up of innocent indigenous villagers, being killed (“Shining Path,” 2015). It is the story of the villagers of Ayacucho that these paintings illustrate. The traditional style that these works are painted in, as articulated by Gonzalez, are called tablas pintadas, and were originally used to “depict family genealogy” (2018). However, they are being used in the context of these paintings to illustrate the collective history of the culture during this time. They are intended to denounce the horrors committed against them, as well as to rebel against the erasure of their culture by the Peruvian government.

A Piraq Causa painting (photo credit: Lee (2018))

The initial goal of these paintings was to condemn the atrocities committed against the Ayacuchano people. As one of the poorest indigenous communities in Peru, Ayacucho was easily infiltrated by the Shining Path insurgents (“Shining Path,” 2015). As Gonzales recognizes, though public perception was that the villagers supported the movement, the paintings tell a different story. Indeed, they name the insurgents onqoy, a plague or sickness on the community (2018). This is significant as it runs contrary to the official position of Peru, which unjustly labeled the paintings as pro-terrorist (Osorio Sunnucks, 2018). Perhaps the most horrific scene painted depicts military helicopters gunning down everyone in sight, guerillas and civilians alike. Osorio Sunnucks explains how focused the government was on eradicating the Shining Path, so focused that they completely disregarded the innocents who were unable to defend themselves from the attack (2018). As illustrated through the callous indifference the government had towards indigenous life, it’s clear that they did not care if the Ayacuchan culture survived.

The Ayacuchanos, however, do care. The use of the tablas pintadas method is the artist’s way of showing that no matter what, their culture will persevere. More than just the killing of the Ayacuchano people, the conflicts – which disproportionately affected indigenous peoples (“Shining Path,” 2015) – were a form of cultural genocide. A specific example from the paintings shows the Peruvian military destroying the Ayacucho community center as a way of targeting the Shining Path. However, the insurgents had no vested interest in the community (Osorio Sunnucks, 2018), and therefore the only people who were affected were the villagers whose cultural history had just been wiped out. After the conflicts, the remaining Ayacuchanos scattered themselves around Peru, leading to a loss of their customs (Arts of Resistance: Politics and the Past in Latin America, 2018). Through the use of traditional techniques, the artists are preserving a part of their culture and rebelling against a government that has marginalized and attacked them. Even as recently as 2017, the Lima Museum was criticized for showing these pieces, as they are seen as pro-terrorist (Gonzales, 2018; see also Osorio Sunnucks, 2018). As Schaffer and Smith (2004) observe, life narratives are “often banned in their country of origin,” (p. 16) as they typically reflect negatively on the country itself.

The Piraq Causa paintings displayed in UBC’s Museum of Anthropology depict the atrocities committed against indigenous groups during the Shining Path conflicts. They challenge the official rhetoric of the Peruvian government which paints the indigenous people as insurgents, supporters of the cause who had to be stopped. Not only do these paintings bear witness to the extreme actions taken by the government and the Shining Path, they are also a way for the Ayacuchanos to preserve their culture through the use of traditional techniques.

Works Cited

Arts of Resistance: Politics and the Past in Latin America. 17 May-30 Sept. 2018, Museum of Anthropology, Vancouver.

Gonzales, Olga. “Art Under Attack in Peru.” NACLA, 29 Aug. 2018, www.nacla.org/news/2018/08/29/art-under-attack-peru. Accessed 29 Sept. 2018.

Lee, Tara. A Photograph of a Piraq Causa Art Piece. Inside Vancouver, 17 May 2018, www.insidevancouver.ca/2018/05/17/vancouvers-moa-launches-new-exhibition-on-latin-american-artistic-resistance/. Accessed 30 Sept. 2018.

Osorio Sunnucks, Laura. “#4 Resistance in Chile.” YouTube, uploaded by Kennedy Wong, 17 Sept. 2018, www.youtube.com/watch?v=zCEL155PniA&t=0s&list=PL5a14FT4xSaqZAQXgImGwHBBA-aI6QMHI&index=5. Accessed 29 Sept. 2018.

Schaffer, Kay, and Sidonie Smith. “Conjunctions: Life Narratives in the Field of Human Rights.” Biography, vol. 27, no. 1, 2004, pp. 1-24.

“Shining Path.” Peru Reports, 20 Mar. 2015, www.perureports.com/shining-path/. Accessed 29 Sept. 2018.