Shuck, Kim (Tsalagi, Sauk/Fox, Polish), Rabbit Stories. Poetic Matrix Press,
2013, high school-up
Rabbit (the Being) has awesome responsibilities. He
weighs and measures leaves so they can exist. He sings to bring the flowers
into bloom. He dances to turn the seasons. He cradles subatomic particles and
powwow dancers in his sight—whispers, “beautiful, happy”—and they dance, dance,
dance, dance. All these things (and more) he has been given to do, else the
world—or at least this corner of the
cosmos—will get bent. No small feats and no small responsibilities, those. Rabbit
is also a mentor (in his magical way) to Rabbit Food, the human girl he’s named
for a wild rose, the human girl he brings to maturity as a smart, loving,
responsible, talented Indian woman; a quantum physicist who knows who she is
and what she comes from. Under Rabbit’s auspices (and, of course, those of her Aunties
and Grandmas), Rabbit Food is a “child of multiple cultures, of Tsalagi and
Polish and fantasy and sci-fi, she knows that around any corner there may be a
paradigm shift… (And) she will be prepared if stuck in an alternate reality.”
The two—(or three if you count the polyvalent
reality of Robin and Fox)—trickster-mentor and quantum physicist, naturally
acknowledge each other without actually speaking or touching. Since Rabbit Food
was a child, it has never occurred to her to mention him to anyone. Rather, she
tosses him a cookie now and then, or lets the cilantro stolen from the fridge
go unnoticed, or hides a cashew where he will find it, and she “keeps learning
the things she needs.” And Rabbit “loves Rabbit Food, loves her…with the
completeness that only someone thoroughly self-absorbed can achieve, and only
then for small moments.”
The stories—of Rabbit Food’s lifetime as girl,
young woman, new mother and mature artist, and, of course, ever the student of
trickster-cum-life coach Rabbit—weave up, down, around and through. They’re brilliantly crafted and lovingly
told, semi-autobiographical stories that take
place in parallel worlds full of spirit and magic and wonder and grace; intertwined like the tight stitches of a
Tsalagi double-woven basket.
Indian students
will appreciate these stories for their many cultural and historical references,
their nuances and word plays, their multiple layers of dream and memory, and
their fast-paced, wise cracking humor—everything that makes Rabbit Stories Indian. They will also probably
appreciate that the author did not,
as non-Native authors often do with “Indian” material, turn the stories into
mind-numbing ethnographic expositions. Students who are from outside the
community may not “get” everything, but will appreciate the stories as well. I
encourage teachers to allow these appealing stories to resonate with their
students and not to ruin the experience by attempting to analyze or interpret them.
Rabbit Stories, as is Kim’s first
book of poetry, Smuggling Cherokee,
is amazing; and Kim—an accomplished artist and master storyteller, poet, and
educator—is an international treasure. Not one eagle feather dropped here, no
pickup dance necessary.
—Beverly Slapin
