Monthly Archives: June 2014

image by: Gallo Images/Thinkstock

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). 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.

On the surface, the story of how Coyote’s twin brother stole the “written document” seems to resemble the dichotomous narratives so common in European/Christian stories, but I think there is an interweaving of holistic ideas, of “one-ness,” in it as well.

I was first struck by the binary imagery of the black and white twins which seems to echo the “this or that,” “us or them” dichotomy that we’ve been struggling against, though the nature of the brothers being twins introduces another dynamic. While their behaviour and their colours—Coyote as “goodness” and his brother as a “liar and a thief” (Robinson 11)—reflect a divisive stand-off in terms of imagery (they become geographically divided as well, when the younger brother is banished) the fact that they are twins implies they are also the same. In my first draft of this post, I used the phrase “two sides of the same coin,” which feels fitting but I’m also wary it might not be quite what I’m trying to say. I found it interesting that Coyote is given a name, while his twin is only referred to as “the younger twin” (9). Perhaps another instance of dichotomy. I wonder if there is a significance in not naming the younger brother. Continue reading →

Howl’s Moving Castle

I haven’t been able to define a sense of home for myself yet. Even in my own story, I didn’t intend to point to one location as a home (though perhaps Vancouver seemed the likely candidate). However, while reading through the other blogs, I’ve noticed a recurring theme of comfort and change that have helped me think further about my own ideas of home. Continue reading →

i.

It’s the same conversation that happens every spring at the end of exams: what day am I leaving, what time is my flight, how great it is that I can finally eat some decently cooked food like a normal person.

My friend, C, is sitting on the lumpy dorm room mattress in Marine Drive. I’m slowly spinning around in my desk chair. There’s a box of pizza sitting between us on the desk, three slices going cold.

“Excited about going home?” she says. It’s one of those questions that already have a scripted answer.

I watch the room move around me as I spin. My posters with the corners curling off the wall. The cardboard box on top of the dresser being used as a makeshift bookshelf. More textbooks and novels on the floor. My pillow and my blanket, piled at the bottom of the bed. My DVDs. My laptop. My lonely little phallic cactus. C, reaching for another pizza slice.

“Yeah,” I say, “I guess so.” Continue reading →

the Kola Superdeep Borehole, closed and abandoned.

In 1989, the Trinity Broadcasting Network released a story about scientists discovering Hell in Russia. The story goes that scientists had drilled a hole deep into the pit of the Earth, straight into a hollow cavern. They say the temperature there measured over 2000 degrees, and when the scientists lowered microphones down into the hole, they heard the screaming of a million tortured souls.

Of course, the “Well to Hell” story is a hoax. It had already been told multiple times before TBN, morphing through various versions, since the publication of an article in 1984 about the very real and very un-damned Kola Superdeep Borehole. Besides, we all know evil is often much quieter than shrieking hellfire.

But you should also know, somewhere in the world, there is a well that reaches into the heart of the earth. It’s said to contain the darkness to make way for a world that needed light. The well was first created before the world began, back when Time was still learning to walk. For as far back as people can remember, a thick iron seal has always covered the well. This is all we need to know anyway, since even Time can’t remember when the well was freely gaping maw in the earth.

A small village used to surround the well. The people there were innocent and kind. They didn’t know how to be anything else. Eventually, after generations upon generations had passed, the task of guarding the well, set by the first villagers, became a hazy inheritance. The only ritual they were certain of was the Resealing that took place after every earthquake that loosened the iron seal. Until one day, they forgot. Continue reading →