Wednesday, April 21, 2010

Post #8

Since we have spent our last few weeks focusing more on projects than on the readings, I thought that it would be appropriate to write my final blog entry about the projects. I loved this assignment; it really provided a great deal of freedom for everyone in the class to explore their own unique interests. Also, because the projects are presented, the whole class is able to see what subjects other students chose, and in what medium they chose to present their information. Moreover, the entire class gets to learn from each individual’s research. Class has been very engaging these past couple of weeks as a result of these project presentations.

Another great aspect of this project was the multimedia requirement. While I do enjoy writing papers in moderation, it can definitely become overwhelming, especially at this time of the semester. I did my project on traditional Cowichan knitted sweaters, so it seemed only logical that I should attempt to create one myself. Having the freedom to do a project in the medium of knitting as opposed to the written word was very liberating to me, especially in an English class. Because I enjoy knitting and am already a fairly proficient knitter my project, even though it did take a fair few hours to complete, was actually fun and relaxing to make, instead of stressful and worrisome like a paper or other project with strict guidelines likely would have been. This final project has been very educational, and has been a fun and rewarding conclusion to this class—I thoroughly enjoyed it.

Thursday, April 1, 2010

Post #7

I actually began reading Prison Writings a couple of weeks ago, and I am thoroughly enjoying it so far. So far (the first third of the book or so), it seems that the book is more about style than content, and I actually don’t mean that in a negatively critical way, though it may sound like I do. What I mean by this, is that so far Peltier has provided little in the way of historical context or back story (though the documentary we watched in class cleared up much of my confusion). All the reader knows is that he has been imprisoned, in his opinion unfairly, “guilty only of being an Indian” (15). He offers some compelling descriptions of life in prison, but so far there has been little in terms of content that has caught my eye.

What has caught my attention, however, is his articulate, stylistically compelling tone. Peltier addresses the reader directly—in the second person—thereby drawing them into the narrative, and he also includes poetry throughout (common in American Indian literature). His style of writing is also exquisitely articulate and refined. Though I do not believe the reading level to be particularly high, every word is impeccably chosen for succinctness and to convey the appropriate meaning. The use of short sentences and paragraphs is also very jarring. For example, the final three paragraphs of the second chapter read as follows:

“So Sun Dance made even prison life sustainable for me.
I am undestroyed.
My life is my Sun Dance” (12).

This stylistic choice is highly appropriate, however, given the book’s jarring, disturbing subject matter. Peltier’s skillful utilization of style is, thus far, the most engaging aspect of Prison Writings.

Post #6

Two Old Women is probably the most enjoyable book in this class to date, in my personal opinion. It is a sweet little fable about two elderly women from an Alaskan tribe who, abandoned for the winter, must manage to survive on their own. Two Old Women is supposedly an ancient Alaskan story passed down through the generations via oral tradition. One thing that struck me about this story was that I could not think of any parallel fables coming from Anglo-American or European lore. It is not uncommon to find similar stories or myths produced by discreet cultures that had never met. It is certainly possible that there is a parallel story originating somewhere, but I could not think of one.

Another aspect of the story that I found delightful was how morally grey it was. Though it could certainly be classified as a morality tale, there is no absolute right or wrong and there are no “good guys” and “bad guys.” In abandoning the women, members of the tribe knew that they were doing something unethical, and yet they were still acting within the constraints of a defined moral code; they believed that they needed to sacrifice the two women for the good of the whole tribe. The women, on the other hand, brought their abandonment upon themselves in some ways by complaining and not working as hard as they perhaps should have. As a result of the tribe’s actions, both parties suffer, but when they meet up again in the end, everyone is stronger and wiser because of it.

Sunday, February 28, 2010

Post #5

I'm doubling up on posts this week, since I haven't written in a couple of weeks.

This week’s reading for Almanac of the Dead continued to focus on the Mexican characters Menardo, his wife Iliana, his lover and later wife (after Iliana’s death) Alegría, and the revolutionary Bartolomeo. I found the fictionalized account of the Marxist revolution in Cuba that took place in this section of the book to be particularly engaging. On a stylistic note, I thought it was interesting how after it was noted that villagers were calling Bartolomeo’s lover Angelita “Comrade la Escapía” (309) the narrator began referring to her by that title as well, almost as if that public sentiment shaped her identity on a fundamental level. On a broader level, it seems that Silko is using the idea of Marxist revolution in the Americas as a parallel to the idea or goal of total reclamation of Indian tribal lands. Just as in Marxist theory the eventual uprising of the proletariat against those who control the means of production is inevitable, Silko seems to be saying that an Indian uprising is inevitable. However, she undercuts this message by saying that “irreparable harm had been done by the immense crimes of [Marx’s] followers, Stalin and Mao.” She is drawing the parallel between both the positive theory of Marxism, as well as the negative aspects that come out in practice. She seems to be arguing, via this fictional account, that revolution, no matter the gain, is not worth it if one allows “some human beings to starve while others ate, especially not one’s own brothers and sisters” (316).

Post #4

Of the books that we have read so far in this class, I feel that A Yellow Raft in Blue Water is my favorite so far. While Smoke Dancing skipped between points of view on a chapter-by-chapter basis and Almanac of the Dead skips between characters and time periods every few pages (it seems), A Yellow Raft in Blue Water is by far the most accessible to me. Though each of the three major sections does follow a different character, while following a linear regression in time, it is still significantly easier to follow than the other two books. After reading these three books it is clear now that discontinuity of both time and character is characteristic of American Indian literature. The issue of time makes sense, given the Indian construction of time. (Although I should make an aside here to say that I am still not entirely clear how the concept of time is constructed in an Indian cultural setting. I know it’s not exactly a linear construction, but I am not sure whether it is conceived of as cyclical, just a big wobbly ball of time, or something else entirely.) I don’t, however, understand the cultural precedent for jumping between characters as opposed to following one main character. Does it perhaps relate to the Indian tradition of transmitting history through oral storytelling? When telling a story orally, does the storyteller traditionally impersonate the characters in the story, or am I completely off-track with that hypothesis? To return to A Yellow Raft in Blue Water, I actually particularly enjoy the way it’s constructed, beginning with Rayona’s story, then following the story back to her mother Christine, and her grandmother Ida. Even though it is not linear in a forward-progressing direction, the fact that it’s linear at all makes it easier to follow.

Sunday, February 7, 2010

Post for the week of the 2nd

One of the major incidences in this portion of Smoke Dancing was Fiction's “coming out” (so to speak) at the feast, at which she exposed the abuses inflicted upon her by her father. Moreover, she had prepared the dress with the purple beaded and embroidered roses signifying her physical wounds specifically for this occasion. I enjoyed this section of the book for a variety of reasons, but for this post I would like to focus on a single factor: Fiction's hand-sewn dress.

The main reason why this section stood out for me was because of the dress. Though I personally am not a particularly fashionable individual, I really appreciate the power and various social implications that clothing can connote. This is amplified by the fact that Fiction's dress was a traditional garment in an era when many cultural traditions (not just American Indians, but traditions for distinct cultural groups across the world) tend to be waning--traditional modes of dress not withstanding. This idea of tradition is increased even more by the fact that the rose pattern was one of Ruby's (a tribal elder) patterns. What I found tremendously interesting, however, was how Fiction blended these ancient cultural traditions with a modern twist: she incorporated the metallic spike studs from a modern leather jacket into her dress as the thorns of the roses. This simple action created an interesting dichotomy between the old and the new, the beautiful and the intimidating, and the feminine and the masculine. Because of the intense and dramatic impact that this dress made on her audience, Fiction was able to tell her equally intense and dramatic story without being silenced.

Tuesday, February 2, 2010

Post # 2

Though the initial post “prompt” encouraged discussion of Smoke Dancing, I would like to make some comments on last week’s Almanac of the Dead reading instead. The first chapter of last week’s reading from Almanac of the Dead was entitled “Famous Criminals.” The two criminals in question are Geronimo and John Dillinger: the subjects of Sterling’s two favorite “Yesteryear” articles from the Police Gazette.

It is interesting to note that the reason that these are his two favorite articles are because they are the two that focus most strongly on Tucson. It is interesting to look into what this may reveal about Sterling’s character. This indicates that Sterling seems to relate most closely to a geographical location (that is, Tucson) than to any other characteristic about an individual. This makes sense, given how closely Indians generally tie cultural and personal identity to land and geography. Another important similarity between Dillinger and Geronimo is race. Geronimo was Apache, whereas Dillinger had no Indian background, but his girlfriend, "Billie" Frechette, whom Sterling mentions on page 78, was of Menomonie descent. This indicates that after land and location, skin color—or at least acceptance of Indians by non-Indians—is important to Sterling. The last important similarity, indicated boldly by the chapter title, is that they were both criminals (at least in the eyes of the United States government). Geronimo was a leader in the Apache Wars; he fought against Union and Confederate attempts at expansion into the Southwest. Dillinger, on the other hand, was a bank robber, but was considered by some in his day (and today) to be something of a Robin Hood figure. History looks on both of these men in a fairly favorable light, relatively speaking, and their exploits are often glamorized. This seems to indicate to me that Sterling identifies with the misunderstood hero figures of the past.

A final interesting thing to note is that Dillinger was born in 1903, within a few years of Geronimo’s death in 1900. Together, they almost symbolize a transformation from the “freedom fighters” of the past to those of the modern era. It begs the question as to how, if at all, this tradition will be continued via the characters in Almanac of the Dead.