The New North

1.5 – Why didn’t anybody stop her?

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Your task is to take the story about how evil comes into the world, from King’s text, and change it to tell it. First, learn the story by heart, and then tell the story to your friends and family. When you are finished, post a blog with your version of the story and some commentary on what you discovered. If you want, you can post a video of you telling the story, in place of text.


 

I decided to retell my version and try to keep it as close to the original as possible, as a type of “telephone game” experiment. My hopes were to see the subtle changes I made to the story through misremembering and put oral tradition into practice. Here is the version I told to my girlfriend Shannon and my friend Jack:

So did you know that there wasn’t always evil in the world? It came here one day. It was a long time ago when the world didn’t really look like it does now. You probably heard that man brought evil into the world, or God, or something like that. But it was actually witches.

A big group of them gathered, from all over the world, and held a competition. The competition was to see who could tell the scariest story or make the scariest potion. There were some good ones that everyone was entertained by and they were all having a good time. Finally, after almost everyone had had a turn, a witch that no one recognized came forward from the shadows. She told a story that made everyone fall silent and listen with awe and intent. It was the most terrifying thing they had ever heard. She spoke of murder and vengeance and said words they had never heard but instantly knew.

When she was done, there was no applause or cheering but only silence. Solemnly, the other witches agreed that she had won the prize. They told her that she had done a good job, too good some said. But they said that they didn’t want the story anymore. They asked her to take it back but she couldn’t. Now that the story had been told there was no way it could be untold. And that is how evil entered the world.

 

Shannon:

You want my reaction? Well how did that witch find out about evil? Was it Satan? Was she a demon witch? Kind of like a metaphor for the tree of knowledge of good and evil. Once you lose innocence you can’t get it back. It’s gonezo. Really, to call something evil is trivial. We just attach moral sentiment to it.

Jack:

Man, fuck that witch. Why didn’t anybody stop her? At least if someone stopped her halfway through there would only be half the amount of evil in the world. Like, maybe we’d still have murder but rape wouldn’t be a thing. Or maybe we’d still have betrayal but no one would ever step on a Lego. I’d be okay with that trade-off.

In review, this exercise revealed a lot more than I thought. Going back and reading the story again, I see that there is a lot of missed and some things that I even changed. Hearing Shannon’s reaction’s showed an initially Christian-centric viewpoint and understanding of the story but evolved into something more human. Jack was hilarious and hit on some interesting points that certainly provoke thought.

1.3 – Humility on Common Ground

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At the heart of the intersection between story and literature we will easily find the meeting of native and newcomer, and as Chamberlin says, “I keep returning to the experience of aboriginal peoples because it seems to me to provide a lesson for us all. And for all its [Canada] much-vaunted reputation as an international mediator and peacemaker, it is in this story of natives and newcomers that Canada really has something to offer the world” (228).  And, then he goes on to propose: “Why not change underlying title back to aboriginal title?” (229). Explain how Chamberlin justifies this proposal.

Chamberlin’s stories are seemingly endless. The creativity with which he approaches ideas previously unquestioned results in perspectives and understandings otherwise left misunderstood or worse, not contemplated or considered at all. The importance is on not only the stories he writes and their validity, but all stories. The truth of the stories, as he asserts multiple times throughout the novel, is two-fold. It is both real and not real. The stories happened and they didn’t. This understanding is what allows Chamberlin to provoke the argument of changing “underlying title back to aboriginal title.” It is this shift in perspective on which the argument stands.

Canadian understanding of claim and title is based largely upon definitive legislation that leaves no room for the interpretation of stories. Sure, it’s a good thing to be definitive in terms of “equal treatment before and under the law, and equal protection and benefit of the law without discrimination” but the legality leaves out a component of understanding and rather proposes one of entitlement (Canadian Charter of Rights and Freedoms).

Chamberlin makes his case simple, he wishes “to give the reader a sense of how important it is to come together in a new understanding of power and the paradox of stories” (239). He warns that the Them and Us mentality is inevitable but that, rather than a choice between one or the other, we should take the stance that, like the validity and truth of stories, coexistence is possible. The physical common ground we share can be more beneficial if understanding is met on both sides of the story. Changing underlying title back to aboriginal title allows the first peoples to keep what is important to them while not sacrificing what is important to the settlers. It is a win-win situation and the only price to pay is the smallest amount of humility and understanding. Not a bad ROI if you ask me.

 

Works Cited

Canadian Charter of Rights and Freedoms, s 2, Part I of the Constitution Act, 1982, being Schedule B to the Canada Act 1982 (UK), 1982, c 11. Web.

Chamberlin, J. Edward. If This Is Your Land, Where Are Your Stories?: Finding Common Ground. Toronto: A.A. Knopf Canada, 2003. Print.

 

1.1 – Wolves Are A Boy’s Best Friend

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I grew up reading Jack London. When I read White Fang — I was about 8 or 9 at the time — I didn’t understand the totality of how it would later influence me. Sure, it’s pretty awesome as a kid to read a story from the perspective of a wolf that gives you animal insight like you’ve never before imagined. You see the parallels of nature and nurture reflected in your own life alongside real-life social interactions like dominance and bullying. You don’t analyze it though. Why would you, you’re 8 years old. You just think, “Damn, wolves are cool.”

Of course, what I didn’t realize was that White Fang would shape me in the years to come. I learned that the Canadian North is hard and cold and beautiful and a great many other things that are difficult to understand. I learned that people can be both cruel and forgiving, regardless of their skin colour. And, later, I learned the subtext that an English Literature degree enables you to reveal is pretty damn priceless when looking back on your childhood.

Back in the day, way back, the New York Times reviewed White Fang. Alongside the general comments I’ve already made about how badass wolves are, the reviewer includes thoughts on White Fang’s journey into domesticity that loosely parallel the struggles of many Native American’s during the same time.

Sadly, he speaks about White Fang’s struggles the same way my grandpa speaks about Native children he went to school with, recalling the “savage instincts” and how they had to be tamed.

Whoa. That’s pretty bad, right?

But it’s how my grandpa was raised. It’s not right, but it’s not his fault either. Just as we’re products of our tolerant, understanding society, he too was a product of his often intolerant, ignorant society. It took a long time for that to be realized. The capacity for understanding the struggles of others wasn’t unavailable in the early 1900’s, it was just misplaced.

The review of White Fang is packaged eloquently and parallels this sentiment eloquently:

As long as White Fang met nothing but brutality from his masters his own savage instincts increased by leaps and bounds and he became a monster of vicious hatred. When he did encounter kindness he was a long time learning to trust it.

Okay, it might not be direct in its parallel metaphor but it hits some points that can’t not be relevant to this course. It’s about understanding. It’s about the ability to forgive, accept, and move forward. It’s about the simple, undeniable truth that we all have back fur that goes up when we’re challenged but — and this is the point — it’s about the fact that a man can see good in evil and even a wolf can obtain the understanding necessary to change. We may still be at the “long time learning to trust it” point, but it’s good that we’re there.


I don’t expect all of you to agree with the connections I’ve made here — and you shouldn’t, there are definitely some holes — but thank Kahn and Cerf (aka the internet gods), this online world is place where you get to shoot down my terrible ideas (or build me up, depending on your view).

To be honest, it’s going to be really nice to have a place where we can talk in our true first language — since online interactions shaped how most of us interact socially (I’m looking at you MSN and Nexopia). So bring on the analytical, intellectual discourse! Disagree with absolutely everything I say, and do it with that big ol’ UBC brain of yours because, my god, that thing is already better than the people who feel it’s necessary to post unsupported, opinionated responses to any post of slightly controversial material on my news feed. Really, I’m looking forward to it.


Bonus! Tell me your thoughts on this piece of Stó:lō art in regards to the issues of dominance and understanding discussed in this article.

For entrance into the Kool Kids Klub (no affiliation with what you’re thinking of) simply comment, “Damn, wolves are cool.”

 

 

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