Showing posts sorted by relevance for query Thanks to the Animals. Sort by date Show all posts
Showing posts sorted by relevance for query Thanks to the Animals. Sort by date Show all posts

Tuesday, January 02, 2007

Allen Sockabasin's THANKS TO THE ANIMALS


My family in New Mexico is among those coping with a huge snowfall. My sister says there's two feet outside her door. They're in northern New Mexico, at Nambe Pueblo. Winter has definitely arrived there, with two huge snowfalls in a week's time. Allan Sockabasin's story sounds perfect for my nieces and nephews. Beverly Slapin's review of Thanks to the Animals is below. It may not be published elsewhere without her written permission.
_________________________

Sockabasin, Allen (Passamaquoddy), Thanks to the Animals, illustrated by Rebekah Raye. Tillbury House, 2005. Unpaginated, color illustrations; all grades.
Winter arrives, as a Passamaquoddy family prepares for the trip north to the deep woods of Maine, their winter home. Everyone helps as they dismantle their house and tie down the cedar logs and everything else they need—canoe, food, clothing, baskets—on the bobsled, making sure there is enough room for the children to ride in the back. As Papa Joo Tum drives the horses and Mama and the older children settle in for the long ride, nestling together in the warmth of their sealskin coats and patchwork blankets, they don’t notice that little Zoo Sap has tumbled off the sled.
Alerted by Zoo Sap’s cries, the animals of the forest—large and small—come together to keep him warm until Papa Joo Tum comes to get him. Joo Tum thanks the animals, one by one, and carries little Zoo Sap—none the worse for wear—back to his family. This quiet, gentle story is enhanced by the warm, watercolor-and-ink paintings, my favorite of which shows little Zoo Sap contentedly and “safely sleeping in a great pile of warm animals.” Thanks to the Animals, with Passamoquoddy names for the animals in the back, is a perfect bedtime story.
—Beverly Slapin

Tuesday, November 03, 2009

Notes and Summary: PETER PAN IN SCARLET

Back when Geraldine McCaughrean's Peter Pan in Scarlet (nearly everytime I type the words "Peter Pan" I have to fix a typo.... instead of Pan it comes out as Pain) was published, I posted some initial notes. I finished the book, but, events at that time were such that a follow-up post was lost. A colleague wrote to me asking if I'd done anymore work on the book. His query prompted me to dig out the book and my notes (thanks, PN!).

I begin, anew. Below are notes and pretty thin chapter by chapter summaries.

Chapter 1 -  The Old Boys

Atop John's wardrobe are things from Neverland. Among the things is "an Indian head-dress" (p. 3). At night, John has bad dreams about Neverland. In the mornings, things from Neverland are in the bed. Mrs. John puts them on the wardrobe.

The Old Boys (Mr. John, Judge Tootles, Dr. Curly, Honourable Slightly, Mr. Nibs, and, the Twins) meet to talk about their dreams. The Twins say they tried to avoid the dreams by staying awake all night for a week. They finally fell asleep on the London omnibus and when they woke up, they were "both wearing warpaint" (p. 5). 


At the end of chapter one, Wendy says something is wrong in Neverland, and that they must go back.

Chapter 2 - First Find Your Baby

In response to Wendy's suggestion, the Old Boys reply (on page 10):

"Go back!? Go back to Neverland? Go back to the mysterious island, with its mermaids, pirates, and redskins?"
They are incredulous at the idea of going back. Wendy ignores their protests, and by the end of the chapter, they have found a baby, made it laugh its first laugh (which hatches a fairy), and collected fairy dust from that fairy.The fairy's name is Fireflyer.


Chapter 3 - A Change of Clothes



Fireflyer is living in "a kind of tepee" (p. 22) that Wendy made out of a lampshade. He has red hair, tells "extraordinarily big lies" (p. 23) and is always hungry.


Each of the Old Boys must have clothes of a child in order to go back to Neverland. Most have children of their own, and take clothes from them. But Honourable Slightly does not have children, and the other Old Boys have apparently forgotten that he has no child from whom to take clothes. Throughout all the planning, he remains quiet. McCaughrean says that he had no children, "no one whose clothes he could borrow, no one to make him young again." (p. 26)


She goes on to say,

"Because, of course, that's how it is done. Everyone knows that when you put on dressing-up clothes, you become someone else."(p. 26)


The Old Boys put on their children's clothing, which magically fits them, and off they go, to Neverland. As they fly there, they remember their days there and call out to each other. One of them says

"If the redskins are on the warpath, I'm going too!" (p. 30)


They arrive over the island, look down, and see that it is completely changed.

Chapter 4 - The One and Only Child

As they fly over the island, they see that all is not well.

"The redskin totem poles leaned at crazy angles, felled by wind or war, and roped in creepers and ivy." (p. 36)

Clearings where they'd had fires and meetings are gone. It is autumn (hence "Scarlet" in the title).

"If there were redskins on the warpath, their warpaths were hidden from sight." (p. 36)

They eventually find Peter Pan. When Wendy asks if he's in trouble, he replies, baffled:
"How 'in trouble'? In a cooking pot with cannibals waiting to eat me, you mean?" (p. 39)

He describes a few other trouble-scenarios, none of which he's experienced. Tootles asks
"Are you quite well, Chief?" (p. 41)
and takes Peter's pulse and temperature. Peter says he is dying, of boredom, and now that they are back in Neverland, they can have adventures.


Chapter 5 - Tootles's Quest

The chapter is about fighting dragons. The Twins find a Forest Dragon and kill it with fire. Wendy finds a circus and meets Ravello, the ring master. At the end of the chapter, the adventures over, Peter wants to play War, but the Old Boys don't want to. They're remembering "the Big War" during which Michael Darling was "Lost" (p. 63). Peter doesn't understand what "lost" means, and, the text reads,
"No one tried to explain. They knew that Peter Pan (and foolish young fairies like Fireflyer) were much better off not knowing about the War. (p. 63)
Chapter 6 - A Ravelling Man

After rejecting Ravello's offer of a place to sleep, Wendy asks Peter if he smells smoke. He replies
"Signal fires," he said. "Or bonfires...Maybe the Tribes are feasting." (p. 71)
They hear a great crackling sound and the cries of frightened and agitated animals. Peter remembers the Twins saying they had killed a Forest Dragon. He asks them how, they say "with fire" and they realize they've set the forest on fire. They're trapped on the beach, face the lagoon, and see a boat.


Chapter 7 - A Certain Coat

The boat is the Jolly Roger. Somewhat fearful, they go on board. Finding Captain Hook's chest, Peter pulls out a red coat. In a pocket he finds a treasure map. They head off to find the treasure.

Chapter 8 - All At Sea

Out at sea, they come upon another boat, a steel steam-cutter called the SS Shark. On board are pirates (p. 88):
They made an unnerving sight, because these pirates, though no more than waist high, were wearing full warpaint and were armed with hatchets, bows and arrows, and bowie knives.


"Starkey's redskins!" said Peter under his breath.

The Shark rams the Jolly Peter (he changed its name from Roger to Peter), pushing the Jolly Peter ahead of it. The Jolly Peter is helpless.

The captain of the steam-cutter was carried for'ard from the bridge, borne aloft on a swiveling leather captain's chair carried by four child warriors. (p. 89)
Of Starkey's crew, McCaughrean writes:
Half were girls, with long silken hair and cleaner buckskin tunics. But they were all armed. Drawing back their bowstrings to full stretch, they bowed (or curtsied), blinked their large dark eyes at the crew of the Jolly Peter, and shouted, "Hello. Thank you very much. How do you do. Delighted I'm sure. Kindly shed your loot in our direction, then lie face down on the deck or, sadly, we will have to slit your gizzards and feed you to the fishes. Deep regrets. Please do not ask for mercy, as refusal can give offense. Thank you very much. Nice weather we are having."  (p. 89)

Captain Starkey approves of what they said, and then says
"Very good, buckos, but you forgot about the scalping. You must always mention the scalping." (p. 89)

At this point, Starkey recognizes the coat Peter is wearing. Peter, humiliated to have the Jolly Peter being pushed about by the SS Starkey (they realize it was not called Shark) yells out to Starkey, trying to humiliate him. Peter says:
"I heard you were captured by the redskins, Starkey! After we routed you in the Great Battle? I heard you were put to looking after their papooses! Terrible fate for a man who calls himself a pirate!" Peter loaded the words with contempt, as he would have loaded a musket. (p. 90)
Starkey agrees that it was beneath him, calling it a fate worse than death, but, Starkey says, he made the best of it:
See what a job I done on 'em, my little squaws an' braves? You won't find better manners in the King of England's parlous. An' I trained them up in a trade, too, which is more'n you can say for most schoolmasters. Learned 'em everything I knowed. Turned 'em into pirates, every Jack-and-Jill of 'em. Got some real talent in there, I can tell you! Pride of me heart, these little throat slitters are! Pride of me heart." (p. 91)

He orders "his little throat-slitters" (p. 91)  to board the Jolly Peter and look for loot. The "warpainted pirates" (p. 91) jump onto the Jolly Peter. Finding nothing, they put the Darlings into their pirate bags. Starkey says he "I can get me a good price for slaves!" (p. 91). His "warriors" (p. 91) were very polite and their hands were "soft and well washed." They talk to each other, discussing "whether Puppy was best cooked with giner, squid, or piri-piri sauce." (p. 92) [Note: Puppy is a real puppy brought to Neverland with the Old Boys.]

Starkey orders Peter to empty his pockets.  Peter replies "Never!" (p. 92), and Starkey says
Turn out your pockets, cock-a-doodle, or I'll have my throat-slitters shoot you full of arrows, and take a look myself, after." (p. 92)

Wendy sees that Peter plans to jump ship instead and calls out to him.

Starkey laid a fatherly hand on the shoulder of one young squaw, whose bowstring was pulled taut. "On my word, bucko... shoot him in the thigh," he said, and the squaw took careful aim. "Let's see what an arrow can do to puncture his pride!" (p. 93)

Out in the sea, five small islands are approaching the two ships. On the islands were inhabitants:

Grappling irons came over the ship's rail like gigantic claws. After that came... well, gigantic claws. The redskins saw the tigers first. (p. 94)

In addition to the tigers, there were panthers, bears, baboons, and palmerions. [Note: What IS a palmerion?!]

No doubt Starkey's sprogs were, in the normal course of things, wonderful at archery and throat slitting. (p. 94)

But, they were afraid and went down a hatch, below decks. From one of the islands came Ravello.



Chapter 9 - Fair Shares


The animals are all under the command of Ravello. All except the bears go back to their islands. The bears dip their paws into the hatch.

The little redskins inside could be heard screaming and whimpering and calling for their mothers. (p. 98)

Ravello wants to work for Peter Pan. They learn that Starkey's cargo is "Silverskins." Nobody but Ravello knows what that actually is. Ravello asserts that Peter should keep half and divide the rest among his crew. That starts the "Silverskin War" (p. 101) as they argue about who should get what. Amidst all the arguing, Starkey tries to get away. Peter grabs him and shouts at him (to turn over the booty):

After years spent teaching manners to redskin sprogs [babies], Starkey said it without thinking: "Now now, son. What's the little word that gets things done?" (p. 104)


The cargo is opened, and out pops Fireflyer who had eaten all the booty. Silverskins are onions.


Chapter 10 - Lodestone Rock

On board the ship, Ravello is very helpful. Among the many things he does is to make "the redskins sew their blankets ito warm coats for the League" (p. 108)

As they sail, they tow Starkey and his crew. They are guarded by bears from one of the floating islands. Wendy asks Peter what he plans to do with them:

"We'll sell them for slaves or spit-roast them for supper!" (p. 109)

The text says he doesn't mean it, but that in saying those words, he sounds decisive. They're looking for the treasure, studying the map. On that map is a "vast blank" labeled "Unknown Territory" (p. 110). Here's what they say:

"We shall map it as we go!" said Peter.

"And find the source of the Nevva River!"

"Discover new animals!"

"Take rock samples!"

"You might also care to name mountains and lakes, sir," suggested Ravello, setting down the afternoon tea.

Then Ravello says, that since Captain Hook had put the treasure there, the territory should be named Hook's Territory. Peter cries out that the territory is his, not Hooks, and that the treasure is also his. Wendy says that she thinks Peter meant 'ours.'  Peter is flushed and says:

"Pour me a tot of Indian courage," he commanded. "The smoke from Starkey's filthy pirate barge has turned my stomach." (p. 111)

Suddenly the Starkey began dragging the Jolly Roger. Nobody can see smoke coming from the Starkey's smokestacks. They fear what may be causing it to move through the water with such force. Ravello looks at the maps and sees Lodestone Rock, which is magnetic. It is drawing the Starkey to it [the Starkey is made of steel]. The bears abandon the Starkey, and:

"the redskins swarmed on deck, weeping and shrieking and struggling into cork life-jackets." (p. 112)

The Starkey hits Lodestone Rock, and the chain between the Starkey and the Jolly Roger breaks. Peter thinks they're safe, since their ship is made of wood, but all the nails are pulled out of the Jolly Roger and it falls apart. The Old Boys use fairy dust,and  muster enough good thoughts (when Peter reminds them of the treasure) to fly up. Wendy sobs, remembering that Fireflyer was locked up in the ship that just went down. Ravello is in the water, holding on to Hook's chest.


Chapter 11 - Grief Reef and the Maze of Witches

Fireflyer is ok and joins the "Company of Explorers" as they fly, looking for land. They sight land and head for it. There, they find Ravello, and, the five islands, too. On the shore are hundreds of prams and baby carriages. Ravello explains these are prams of babies left unattended. Babies who became Lost Boys. The prams got to this shore, called Grief Reef, by the nursemaids who, fired by angry parents, set out to search for the lost babies, not to find them, but to seek revenge. The thought frightens the Lost Boys. Peter reminds everyone that grown-ups can't get into Neverland, and

"everybody felt so much better that they decided to overlook all the grown-up pirates, redskins, and circus masters known to inhabit Neverland." (p. 121)

The Company of Explorer's head inland and come upon a Maze. In it are the nursemaids. This place, Ravello tells them, is the Maze of Witches. Their failure and temper turned them into witches. As witches, then, they could enter Neverland. Eventually, the Company makes its way out of the Maze.

Chapter 12 - Fare Shares

Slightly plays his clarinet. Fireflyer likes the music. The higher the note Slightly plays, the higher Fireflyer goes. Slightly asks what he sees as he flies higher. Then Slightly puts the clarinet aside and whistles, which sends Fireflyer even higher. Slightly asks what he can see:

"Oooo. Right into the past! I see the Aztecs and the Vikings!" (p. 136)

Peter doesn't like the whistling and tells Slightly to stop. Gradually throughout the latter few chapters, Peter's appearance and behavior are changing. Peter shoves Slightly. This scares the others. Wendy says she hardly recognizes him. He is also no longer able to imagine food for them to eat. They remember biscuits in Hook's chest, but find out Fireflyer has eaten them. Peter banishes Fireflyer. They're all increasingly hungry and go to bed. To their surprise, they wake and find Peter has berries for them. They eat and head off into a forest where Peter says he got the berries. All except Slightly are too short to reach any. Thinking he can get back into Peter's good graces by picking some, he pulls down three bunches. Peter is outraged, calling him a traitor. Turns out, Slightly is growing up, which makes him a traitor. Peter imprisons him, and they leave him behind.

Chapter 13 - Taking Sides

Though they've left him behind, they still hear Slightly playing his clarinet. Ravello says that the Roarers may get him. They, Ravello explains, are boys who've grown up. Banished by Peter, they roam around, living as bandits. The Company enters and leaves a desert, finds a waterfall, and are suddenly in a blizzard that turns out to be fairies, thousands of them, that bury them. These fairies are having a war: the Reds fight the Blues. The fairies ask the Company to take sides. Peter goes into the waterfall and holds up a rainbow. This confuses the fairies. They leave, and the Company presses on to Neverpeak Mountain to find the treasure.

Chapter 14 - No Fun Anymore

They can't find food, so eat the last of the berries Peter had given them earlier. They finally get to Neverpeak, which is shaped like a cupcake with steep granite walls. The Company asks Peter to go up there alone. He chides them and sets out alone. Ravello tells them Roarers are all around, which prompts them all to start climbing trees to scale Neverpeak. They struggle through mosquitos and hail as they go. Ravello cuts away the shadows of all but Peter and puts them into the chest.

Chapter 15 - Nowhereland

The story shifts in this chapter, from Peter to Nowhereland, where Slightly and Fireflyer are now. Fireflyer wants a story, so Slightly tells him about their first visit to Neverland. He describes Hook, and realizes that Peter has become just like Hook. Slightly and Fireflyer turn in for the night but are surrounded by Roarers. They tell Slightly that they think Peter used poison to turn them into grownups. He also put poison in the Lagoon, which caused many changes in Neverland, including the fairies war. Slightly asks who told them all that, and figures out it is Ravello, and that Ravello is a danger.

Chapter 16 - Shadow Boxing

Back to Peter and the quest for the treasure. The Boys, without their shadows, climb easily. Peter struggles, and so, Ravello cuts it off, too, and begins to croon and then roar about how awful mothers are. Ravello sees all the Explorers staring at him:

"What language is he talking?" asked John. "Is it Esquimeau?" (p. 187)

Wendy asks Ravello if he's a Lost Boy, which he vehemently denies.  Puppy is missing. Next morning, they set off again, calling out for Puppy as they go. Its very cold and icy. Crossing an ice bridge, Peter looks down, sees something, slips, and falls. He clings to an icicle. He tells them he saw his reflection in the ice and that it was Hook. Hook. Ravello tells him it is only a bad memory and reaches to help Peter. Peter realizes he should be able to fly, and asks Ravello why he can't fly. Ravello ignores the question, and helps everyone across the bridge. Ravello and the sea chest nearly fall into the ravine. Ravello chuckles in an ominous way.


Chapter 17 - Not Himself

They get to the top of Neverpeak and look across the territory, noting places they had been. Snow is very deep. Peter starts to dig, cued by Ravello. He finds the chest. They open the lid and find things in there that they'd wished for. Twigs to make a fire, fairy dust to fly home with, food, and, Tinker Bell. There is also a trophy. Peter, gazing at it, sees his reflection again. He tells Wendy he is not himself. Ravello appears and tells Peter that he has become Captain Hook. And, he tells Peter, that he has groomed him well, that it all started when he convinced Peter to put on his second-best jacket.

Chapter 18 - Taking Deadness

Ravello says that, putting on clothes makes the wearer into that person. Peter has become Hook. Ravello once was Hook, but now, Peter is Hook. Peter takes off the coat, but Ravello tells him that shedding the coat does not change who he has become. The Boys are afraid and want to go home. Wendy gives them dust, readying them to leave, but Ravello reminds them that he has their shadows and can no longer fly. He tells them his life story, including what Peter did to him and how it came to pass that Peter became Hook. Ravello asks Peter what he wants to be now, and then, Slightly appears and tells Peter not to answer the question. Slightly tells everyone how he was tricked by Ravello, and thereby started to turn into a grownup. He tells them that he's figured out Ravello.

Chapter 19 - Burned

The boys start a fire to keep warm. They cook the food that was in the chest and

"sent smoke signals summoning help (though the blizzard did its best to smudge them out)." (p. 229)

Chapter 20 - Ill Luck

The Company decides to leave the mountain. They're exhausted. Peter starts coughing and then suddenly disappears over a ledge. He lands on Hook (Ravello is now Hook again). The boys tumble down, too. Peter lies there, still, and they think he has died.


Chapter 21 - Coming of Age

Peter needs a doctor. Curly had grown up to be a doctor. To save Peter, he asks Hook to ask him the question (what do you want to be when you grow up) which will trigger his growing up and ability to help Peter. Slightly reminds him that he'll grow up and be a Roarer, never able to go home. Curly goes ahead, and then saves Peter, removing a strand of London fog from Peter. Peter is restored to health and vigor. The renew their descent from Neverpeak, and find themselves surrounded by Roarers.

Chapter 22 - Consequences

The Roarers bind their prisoners to trees and discuss what to do with Peter. Ravello is in the trees overhead, watching Peter as he starts to sink in quicksand. The Roarer's blame Peter for their growing up and subsequent banishment by him, but Wendy tells them Ravello is the one who poisoned them. They recognize and remember him, and move towards him. He summons his circus animals. The Roarer's scatter, and John and the Twins rescue Peter. The Company lay on the ground, together, recovering, when they realize that Ravello's beasts are closing in on them.

Chapter 23 - The Red Coat

First Twin has the red coat tied around his waist. He throws it up into the air. The animals paw at it, and Peter cries out "Red! Do you See? Red!" (p. 267) which summons the blue fairies. This distracts the animals and the Company sneaks away. Ravello pleads for the animals lives, Wendy remembers the rainbow, and the fairies let up. The animals recover. Peter and Hook prepare to fight each other. Just before Hook kills Peter, Puppy returns, but is now fullgrown. Puppy attacks Hook, saving Peter. Wendy kisses Hook on the cheek and leaves him there to sleep, drifting to death. Peter is furious with her and tries, unsuccessfully, to banish her.

Chapter 24 - Back Together

The Company sets out again, walking across the island, to get to Neverwood. The going is tough. As they go (extended excerpt, spanning p. 280 to 282),

...the sky ahead turned ochre yellow with flying dust. Sandstorm, they thought. Then they topped the rise, and a sight met their eyes that none would ever forget. There, streaming towards them across the flat skilet of the sear desert sands, came all the bison and appaloosas and travois and squaws and dogs and braves and thunderbirds and drums and papooses and war bonnets and peace-pipes and braids and coup sticks and moccasins and bows and arrows that went to make up the Tribes of the Eight Nations.

The smoke signals Peter had sent from the top of Neverpeak had never been smudged out completely. Now Tribes from north, south, east, west, and the ohter place came thundering over the Thirsty Desert as fast as their appaloosas and bisons would carry them. At the sight of Peter and his fellow Explorers, the Tribes began to bang on their shields and drums and papooses and so forth in a triumphant chorus of greeting.

The Tribes threw a potlatch for the League: A party that consisted of eating and drinking and giving away most of their belongings. They gave a lot of these to Peter and Wendy and Tootles and the Twins and John (who was thrilled to the core). Bud sadly, because they had nothing of their own to give, the children had to give away the gifts they had just been given.

At the feast that followed, a lovely Princess came and smeared their faces with warpaint and told them that now they were honorary members of the Eight Nations.

"Hello, Tiger Lilly," said Peter. But the Princess looked at him strangely and said she was Princess Agapanthus, actually. "Ah. I could never remember names," Peter said. "Or faces."

"Twins? Whatever is the matter?" asked Tootles. "Just because you had to give away those bowie knives..."

But the Twins were not crying because of the bowie knives. They had just remembered riding on an omnibus to Putney and falling asleep and waking to find themselves wearing warpaint. "Will we ever see Putney again, Wendy?" they asked.

Wendy put on her most businessslike face. "We shall just have to wait for the fairies to stop quarrelling and for our shadows to grow back. Look: yours are starting to come already." The Twins brightened--then, of course, their shadows stopped growing again, which rather defeated Wendy's efforts.

They travelled on in a cloud of dust, with an escort of Eight Nations (not to mention the bison)--through the Elephant's Graveyard, over Parcel Pass and the primaeval ruins of Never City and the Groves of Academe. If there were Roarers or lions lying in ambush, the bison and travoises flattened them, because suddenly the horizon was plush with the trees of Neverwood, and the Tribes were saying good-bye and moving off in eight different directions--to tepees, hogans, kivas or longhouses, roundhouses, bivouacs or stockades; some to sleep under the stars. (p. 282)
The Company of Explorers curl up to sleep, too. Puppy is with them, but, suddenly he runs off, starts to dig, and next thing he's dug a hole into the den where Peter and the Lost Boys lived. What follows are reunions and lots of storytelling.

Chapter 25 - The Heartbroken

In this chapter, Lost Boys find their parents, the Darlings get back home, Peter heads back to Neverwood. Ravello wakes up, no longer Ravello but Hook, once again, waiting to tangle with Peter Pan.

------


That's it. Now to think about it...

Tuesday, January 31, 2017

Can Kiera Drake's THE CONTINENT be revised?

Editors note, 2/19/18: See my review of the revised book

Kiera Drake's The Continent was slated for release in January of 2017 from Harlequin Teen. 

Questions from readers, however, prompted Harlequin Teen to postpone it. They didn't say they were canceling it. Just postponing it, which means they are trying to... fix it. 

Can Drake revise The Continent so that it will, eventually, be released? 

My answer: no.  

I have an arc (advanced reader copy). I hope my review of that ARC is useful to the author, her editor, her publisher, and anyone else who is writing, editing, reviewing, or otherwise working with a book that depicts Native people.

Let's start with the synopsis:
"Have we really come so far, when a tour of the Continent is so desirable a thing? We've traded our swords for treaties, our daggers for promises--but our thirst for violence has never been quelled. And that's the crux of it: it can't be quelled. It's human nature." 
For her sixteenth birthday, Vaela Sun receives the most coveted gift in all the Spire--a trip to the Continent. It seems an unlikely destination for a holiday: a cold, desolate land where two "uncivilized" nations remain perpetually locked in combat. Most citizens lucky enough to tour the Continent do so to observe the spectacle and violence of war, a thing long banished in the Spire. For Vaela--a talented apprentice cartographer--the journey is a dream come true: a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to improve upon the maps she's drawn of this vast, frozen land. 
But Vaela's dream all too quickly turns to a nightmare as the journey brings her face-to-face with the brutal reality of a war she's only read about. Observing from the safety of a heli-plane, Vaela is forever changed by the bloody battle waging far beneath her. And when a tragic accident leaves her stranded on the Continent, Vaela finds herself much closer to danger than she'd ever imagined. Starving, alone and lost in the middle of a war zone, Vaela must try to find a way home--but first, she must survive.
During the course of the story, we'll learn that the Spire is comprised of four nations: the West, the East, the South, and the North. 

Note: For each chapter below, summary is in plain text; my comments are in italics.

Chapter One

Chapter one opens with Vaela Sun's 16th birthday party in an ornate place in the Spire (a hundred million other people live there, too). Vaela has received three gifts from her parents. One is a ruby pendant on a gold chain that brings out the gold color of her hair. The second one is an elegantly framed map of the Continent that she drew based on her studies (she's a cartographer). The third gift is an official certificate of travel to the Continent. Trips to the Continent are very rare. There are only ten tours in a year, and only six guests on each tour.

My comments: Clearly, these are the most affluent people in this place called "the Spire." The name of the place embodies privilege. These two families are at the very top of that privilege.

Vaela and her parents dine with the Shaw's, who are highly placed in the Spire and used their influence to make the trip possible. At dinner, Vaela's father (Mr. Sun) and Mr. Shaw have this exchange (p. 15):
"Have you any thoughts, Mr. Shaw, about the natives on the Continent? I expect we shall see a good deal of fighting during our tour."
"I find them fascinating," says Mr. Shaw, leaning forward. I'm not as well-read on the natives as my boy Aaden here, but I think I favor the Topi. Seem a red-blooded sort--aggressive and primitive, they say."
"They are a popular favorite, to be sure," my father says. "Much more fearsome than the Aven'ei. I take no preference myself. But I admit, it will be interesting to see them at battle."
My comments: Prior to reading this book, I knew that other people who had read the ARC had identified the Topi as being representative of the Hopi Nation, and the Aven'ei as Japanese. My grandfather (now deceased) was Hopi, born and raised at one of the villages in Arizona. 

These wealthy white people, speaking of the Topi/Hopi as they do, is revolting. Native people, for these wealthy white people, are entertainment. When she wrote this book, did the author imagine that Native teens might read it? 

Vaela's mom (Mrs. Sun) was hoping they wouldn't see any bloodshed, but Aaden Shaw asks if there's any other reason to go to the Continent. Though there are spectacular landscapes, he says (p. 15),
"Let's be honest--it's not the scenery that has every citizen in the Spire clamoring to see the Continent. It's the war."
Mrs. Sun says she's not interested in seeing "natives slaughter one another" and Aaden presses her, asking her if she is prepared for it, because that is exactly what they will see. Mrs. Shaw says (p. 15):
"They've been railing at each other for centuries. I've never understood the fascination with it, myself. I'm right there with you, Mrs. Sun."
My comments: Did you take that idea--that these two peoples on the Continent have been at constant, bloody, war with each other for centuries--as fact? If so, I think it reflects the degree to which you've been taught to think about those who are labeled as primitive, less-than-human other.

Mr. Sun and Mr. Shaw talk about how, from the safety of the heli-plane, they can observe war. Mr. Shaw says (p. 16):
"We take for granted that the Spire is a place without such primitive hostilities--that we have transcended the ways of war in favor of peace and negotiation. To see the Topi and the Aven'ei in conflict is to look into our past--and to appreciate how far we have come."
Aaden wishes he could be on the ground and see the fighting up close, but Mr. Shaw prefers a safe distance from arrows and hatchets. Mrs. Sun thinks it is a "dreadful shame" they've not been able to sort out their differences, and Mrs. Shaw rolls her eyes (p. 16):
"I say let them kill each other. One day they'll figure out that war suits no one, or else they'll drive themselves to extinction. Either way, it makes no difference to me."
Mrs. Sun reminds them that they are people, but Mrs. Shaw says they're people without good sense to know there are civilized ways to solve disagreements. Mr. Shaw relies:
"Before the Four Nations united to become the Spire, the people of our own lands were just as brutal, ever locked in some conflict or another. And see how far we have come? There may be hope yet for the Topi and the Aven'ei." 
Later, Vaela's mother asks her if she'll be all right with the violence she'll see. Vaela replies (p. 17):
It's what they do Mother. You oughtn't be so concerned. I know what to expect--we've all read the histories. The natives fight, and fight, and fight some more. Over land or territory or whatever it is--I've never quite understood--the war goes on and on. It never changes."
My comments: This idea--of using people--to measure ones own progress towards "civilization" is more than just a story. At the 1893 World Columbian Exposition in Chicago, exhibits featured living Native peoples. The goal was to show fair-goers different evolutionary stages that placed Native peoples at the savage end of the exhibit, and white people at the other. Another example of using Native people as an exhibit was Ishi.    

Chapter Two


The Shaws and the Suns board the plane. Mrs. Shaw is surprised with the small windows. Aaden tells her (p. 25):
"Don't worry, they're big enough. I expect you won't have any trouble watching the Topi chop the Aven'ei to pieces."
Mrs. Shaw looks at Mr. Shaw. She says Aaden's vulgarity is his fault, for giving him "all those books about the Continent."

The plane takes off. Later, looking out a window, Aaden sees four natives. Mrs. Shaw is thrilled and asks if they're Aven'ei or Topi (p. 31):
"They're Aven'ei," Aaden says. "The Topi don't live this far south or east. In any case, you can tell from their clothing--see how everything is sort of mute and fitted? The Topi are more ostentatious--they wear brighter colors, fringed sleeves, bone helmets--that sort of thing."
Mrs. Shaw thinks he's kidding about the helmets, but he says (p. 32):
"What better way to antagonize the Aven'ei than by flaunting the bones of their fallen comrades?" 
Mrs. Shaw goes on, saying that the Topi are vulgar and warmongering. She heard from a Mrs. Galfeather, that (p. 32-33):
"...there's nothing to the Topi but bloodlust. That's precisely the word she used: bloodlust. She says we know nothing else about them because there's naught else to know, and that they've bullied the Aven'ei for eons."
Aaden responds that they're not bullies but is interrupted by Mr. Shaw, who has noticed what he thinks are flags hanging from a bridge. They peer down and realize they're not flags, but bodies. Vaela watches...  (p. 33):
One of the strips swivels on its cable, and as it turns, I see the rotted face of a Topi warrior, his bone helmet shattered on one side, his arms bound tightly at the wrists."
My comments: Bloodlust. An echo of "blood thirsty" Indians. 

Chapter Three


Everyone is unsettled by what they saw. Vaela tells her dad she's fine. She thinks (p. 34):

The war between the natives is the stuff of legend--isn't it only natural to be curious about the morbid truth of things? Perhaps Aaden was right when he said that everyone has some interest in the conflict between the Topi and the Aven'ei--though my mother seems to be a rare exception to this rule.
I think the lot of us were simply unprepared to see anything macabre at that moment; we were so distracted and enthralled by our first view of the landscape, marveling at the unexpected appearance of the Aven'ei, and then... the bodies. Decayed and frightening and real. Unexpected. 
They all sit quietly, pretending not to be bothered. Vaela thinks it is easier to pretend a disinterest, rather than to admit how disturbing it was to see those bodies. Later, Aaden and Vaela talk about their safety at the Spire being a luxury they've earned after many centuries during which the Four Nations were at war. Aaden says (p. 36):
But have we really come so far, when a tour of the Continent is a desirable thing? We've traded our swords for treaties, our daggers for promises--but our thirst for violence has never been quelled. And that's the crux of it: it can't be quelled. 
Vaela's dad disagrees, saying that human nature compels them to seek peace, as they did in the Spire. The desire to see the natives at war on the Continent, he says, is just curiosity. Eventually they get to Ivanel, an island, which is their destination. Like their home at the Spire, the rooms at Ivanel are opulent. Everyone settles in for the night.

My comments: Aaden's remarks about war and violence as part of the human condition... what to make of that? 

Chapter Four

The plan is an airplane tour of the Continent. The steward of Ivanel is their tour guide, pointing out geography, where the fights are taking place, and that of the land masses of their planet, the Continent is the least populated. Its population is in decline due to warfare. They fly over an Aven'ei town, and then (p. 47):
Before long, the plane is headed north, and we fly over an expansive network of Topi villages. The architecture is different from that of the Aven'ei: cruder harsher, yet terribly formidible, even in the frozen, icy territory the Topi call home. The little towns, too, are much closer together than Aven'ei villages; I am reminded of an ant colony, with many chambers all connected together, working to support a single purpose. 
My comments: The description of the Topi villages confirms that they're based on the Hopi people. The Hopis in Arizona and the Pueblos in New Mexico are related. We're descendants of what is commonly called "cliff dwellers." Here's an aerial photo that sounds precisely like what Vaela is describing:




Pueblo Bonito is in Chaco Canyon. It is one of many sites like that, in the Southwest. For a long time, the National Park Service called them homes of the Anasazi--who had disappeared--but today, that error is gone. These are all now regarded as homes of Ancestral Puebloans. Vaela, and perhaps Kiera Drake, look upon them and thinks of ants. Insects. Need I say how offensive that is? 

The plane gets low enough for Vaela to see the villagers, who are "singularly dark of hair, with beautiful bronzed skin" (p. 47).

My comments: That's one of the (many) passages that needed some work. The Topi village is in the icy, frozen north. How, I wonder, can she see the skin color? Later we're going to read about their clothing for this climate. 

Aaden is drawn to the buildings, exclaiming (p. 47):
"Look at the paint! It must be sleet and ice nearly all year round, yet the buildings are blood red, sunshine yellow--incredible!"
The tour continues. They come upon a clearing where a battle is happening. Vaela looks out the window and is taken by the blood, everywhere, on the stark white of the land. Topi men decapitate an Aven'ei man, and then hurl the severed head up towards the plane. 

My comments: Though the amount of space Drake gives to the scene is just over a page in length, her description makes it loom large. It feels gratuitous, too. Intended, I think, for us to remember how brutal war is--but especially how brutal the Topi are. 

Chapter Five

Back at Ivanel, Vaela grasps the violence in a way she had not, before. She understands the difference between spectacle and death. Rather than go up in the plane again, Vaela and Aaden will go on a walking tour, led by the steward. His name is Mr. Cloud. He is a Westerner and has "beautiful dark skin" and "blue eyes so pale they are nearly white" (p. 55). Aaden and Vaela talk about the battle. Recalling history she says (p. 59):
The whole thing was dreadful. And to think, all those years ago, each was offered a place as a nation of the Spire if only their quarrels could be set aside. But they chose dissension. They chose death and blood and perpetual hostility. Why?
Aaden tells her that the Aven'ei wanted to unite with the Spire but the Topi did not (p. 59):
"It was the Topi who refused--they wanted nothing to do with our people from the very first; we were never able to establish even the simplest trade with them." He scuffs his foot along the side of the rock and shakes his head. "It was different with the Aven'ei. They traded peacefully for decades with the East and the West--right up until the Spire was formed."
Vaela wonders what the Aven'ei could possibly have, that the people of the Spire would want. Aaden chides her but she goes on, saying they are such a primitive culture. Aaden tells her that all things aren't measured in gold, that it was Aven'ei art and culture that Spire people desired. He reminds her of all the things in the Spire that are clearly influenced by Aven'ei aesthetic. Vaela wonders what the Aven'ei might have received in trade with the Spire. Weapons, she wonders, that might help them fight? Aaden tells her that the Aven'ei adopted the language of the Spire. 

He also tells her that when the Continent was discovered 270 years ago, the Four Nations made a treaty amongst themselves that prohibited them from giving weapons to anyone on the Continent. There was trade, however, for a while. The East got lumber from the Aven'ei, and gave the Aven'ei agricultural wealth (crops and cattle). Vaela wonders why the Aven'ei didn't join the Four Nations. Aaden tells her that part of the treaty said that, in order to join, they would have to stop being a warring country. If they did that, the Topi would massacre them. 

My comment: In each passage about the Topi and the Aven'ei, we see more and more that of the two, it is the Topi who are most primitive. 

Chapter Six

The next day, the group gets on the plane again for another tour. Something goes wrong. Vaela's dad puts her in a safety pod. The plane crashes.

Chapter Seven

The pod lands in snow. After the third day, Vaela sets off, hoping to get to Avanel. At the end of the chapter, she's exhausted. Sitting against a tree, she hears what she thinks is the rescue plane. 

Chapter Eight

Vaela gets up and runs towards the sound, then to a field. At the far end, she sees "a Topi warrior" bent over in the snow, a hatchet and dead squirrels beside him. He doesn't see her, so she decides to run into the field and wave at the plane. She does, but another Topi does see her. He's got red and yellow paint on his face and a quiver of arrows on his back. "The warrior's expression" is one of curiosity, not fierce. He calls to the other one. She runs, an arrow whizzes past her. She falls. He catches her, ties her hands together, rolls her over onto her back and looks into her face. His breath reeks of fish and decay as he speaks to her. The other warrior joins them. One jabs an arrow into her thigh. He hits her and she passes out. 

My comments: Drake's use of "warrior" when she could have said "man" adds to the overall depiction of the Topi as warlike. That first guy? He was hunting. We don't know about the second one. But having his breath smell of decay... Drake is slowly but surely making the Topi out to be less than human. 

Chapter Nine

Vaela comes to. She's on the ground on her back. The first Topi warrior she saw is with her. He grins at her; she notes his teeth, "blackened by whatever root he is chewing" (p. 88). He gives her some meat and berries. The other one returns later. Using a knife he draws a map in the dirt. She shows him where the Spire is. 

Evening comes and the two men drink, "becoming increasingly boisterous" (p. 91). The first one finally passes out. The second one, however, yanks her to her feet and pulls her to him. There's a sticky white substance at the corners of his mouth. He buries his face in her hair and then starts kissing her her face and neck. She knows his intentions are "lustful." Suddenly, he falls away, a knife embedded in his neck. Another man, clad head to toe, in black. In the firelight she sees his "high cheekbones, dark almond-shaped eyes that slope gently upward at the corners, full lips" (p. 94).  He speaks to her, in English.

My comments: Ah... the Drunken Indian stereotype. This drunk Topi, however, goes further. He's going to rape this blond haired white woman. This is SUCH A TROPE. Some stores have rows of romance novels with a white woman on the cover, in the arms of an Indian man. She might be struggling; she might not be. He is usually depicted as handsome.

Drake's menacing Native man is more like what we see in children's books. Like... this page in The Matchlock Gun: 




Or in this scene from the television production of Little House on the Prairie (the part where they approach Ma is at the 1:45 mark, and again, at the 2:30 mark):




Here's a screen cap from the 2:10 mark:




Chapter Ten

Hearing English spoken to her is a healing ointment on her heart. He asks where she is from. She tells him she's from the Spire (p. 96):
His mouth opens slightly and his dark brows rise up an inch or so. "You come from the Nations Beyond the Sea." It is not so much a question as a realization.
Their conversation continues. She tells him she was on a tour in the heli-plane. He wonders what that is, she tells him, and he tells her they call them anzibatu, or, skyships. He asks her why she was on a tour, saying "you come to watch us [...] like animals in a menagerie?" He wonders why they don't interfere in their fighting. She tells him their fighting is a curiosity, regrets saying it, and tries to explain that it is complicated. He ends the conversation telling her they'll leave in the morning. She asks where he intends to take her. He responds that she isn't a prisoner and can go with him if she wants to, or, stay where they are. Vaela asks him what is name is; he tells her he is called Noro. She thanks him for saving her life. 

My comments: Another trope! In children's books about European arrival on what came to be known as the American continent, Native people are shown as being in awe of Europeans. 

A small point, but annoying nonetheless: As Aaden noted in chapter five, the Aven'ei adopted English. I suppose Drake wrote that into the story so that Vaela and Noro could easily communicate, but some of the logic of words/concepts he knows (and doesn't know) feels inconsistent to me. He doesn't know the word heli-plane but does know menagerie (and later, "propriety" but doesn't know "technology").

Last point: Damsel's in distress, saved by a man, are annoying. Also annoying are female characters who run, trip, and are caught by bad guys. That happened in chapter five when Vaela was running away from the Topi man.   

The next day, Noro thinks he should tend to Vaela's wounded thigh, but she's uneasy with having him touch her or see her bare leg. She relents, he cleans and bandages the wound, and she tells him this is the second time he's saved her. They set off. 

That evening, Noro asks if other people in the Spire look like Vaela, with her "golden hair" and "eyes like the leaves of an evergreen" (p. 105). She tells him that the people in the West are dark-skinned with pale blue eyes, those in the North have pale skin and white hair, those in the South are olive-skinned with dark hair, and those in the East (where she is from) are often pale, with blue or green eyes. 

My comments: Another trope! Time and again in children's books, writers depict Native people as in awe of blonde--or sometimes red--hair. 

Chapter Eleven

Vaela is getting sick. Towards the end of the chapter, Noro has to carry her for awhile. He wants to take her to a healer when they get to his village but she's afraid of what that healer will do (leeches are one possibility). She insists that Noro take her to the village leaders first. He agrees. They arrive at the village.

Chapter Twelve

As they walk through the village, Vaela is surprised and impressed at their rich culture. She meets Noro's ten-year-old brother, Keiji. In Noro's cottage, she notices a tapestry on the wall, and a carved bookcase full of books. She learns that Noro is one of the few assassins they have. They "eliminate Topi leaders." Without the assassins, "the Topi would have wiped us from the Continent long ago" (p. 125).  

My comments: Earlier, I noted that the author (Kiera Drake) was, as the story unfolded, drawing a distinction between the Topi and the Aven'ei. The description of the tapestry and books add a lot. They are definitely not "uncivilized." 

Vaela and Noro go to the meeting with the village leaders. They deny her request to be taken back to Ivanel because it is dangerous to try to be on the sea during this part of the year, and, because they're at war. Noro takes Vaela to Eno's (the healer) cottage.

Chapter Thirteen

Vaela spends several weeks under the care of Eno. Keiji visits but Noro does not.

Chapter Fourteen

When she's well, Keiji takes her to her own cottage. It is furnished much like Keiji and Noro's. Sofa, bookshelf, books. She looks around the main room, the kitchen, her bedroom, and a room with a bash basin and a chamber pot. Later she goes to visit Noro, who tells her the leaders want to see her again, to assign her a job. She tells Noro about "the Lonely Islands" (p. 148) of the Spire. Citizens who don't want to work are "invited" to relocate to that place. Some choose to go, others are sent.  

Chapter Fifteen

Vaela begins work as a field hand, scooping and hauling cow manure. Noro gave her some money to use until she gets paid. She goes to the market, where an old woman remarks on her gold hair, with its "strings of sunshine." The woman offers Vaela three, then four, then five oka (coins) for it but Vaela says no. Vaela meets a young woman, Yuki Sanzo (they're going to become good friends). 

My comments: the fascination/value again of blonde hair...  

Yuki tells her the war is because of a debt, and that now, the Topi (p. 159):
"understand the riches of the south. The fertility of our soil, the safety of our shoes. The agriculture we have cultivated. They love the north, but desire what the north cannot deliver. And so they seek to take it from us, here in the south and east."
Vaela tells Yuki that on the Spire, they found a way to share resources and that perhaps, someday, the Topi and Aven'ei will do that, too. 

My comments: This depiction of the Topi as hunter/gatherers who don't know how to farm is common, in fiction, nonfiction, and textbooks, too. It is an error, especially given that the Topi are based on the Hopi, who for thousands of years, cultivated corn in the southwest. Doing that required sophisticated irrigation systems. This is well-described in Roxane Dunbar-Ortiz's book (An Indigenous Peoples History of the U.S.)  This widespread misrepresentation lays the groundwork for justifying occupation and colonization of Native lands. 

Chapter Sixteen

Vaela does her work, and thinks about how she could make a map that the Aven'ei could use in their war against the Topi. 

Chapter Seventeen

On a visit, Yuki realizes that Vaela doesn't know how to take care of herself or cook, either. She teaches her. Noro visits; Vaela tells him she wants to visit the council about improvements in the village. Specifically, she tells him about toilets and how they work. He's disgusted with the idea of having a privy inside the house. 

Chapter Eighteen

Vaela tells Yuki the villagers give her odd looks. Yuki tells her they're just wary of her. Yuki tells her she needs to have a knife with her at all times because the Continent is not the Spire. Vaela thinks the Topi wouldn't come to the village. Yuki isn't sure of anything. 

Chapter Nineteen

Keiji starts teaching Vaela how to fight; Noro calls Vaela "miyake" which means "my love."

Chapter Twenty

Noro reports that there are Topi nearby and asks Vaela to draw a map of where they are; they take the map to the leaders. Noro gives Vaela a set of throwing knives. 

Chapter Twenty-One

When Noro is teaching Vaela how to use a knife to kill someone, quickly, and quietly. Vaela asks if that is the technique that Noro used on the Topi who found her after the crash. He nods; she says that the Topi was kind to her, that he gave her food. Noro gets angry that she grieves for the Topi, and tells her she cannot look upon them as men. They are the enemy. She tells him the Topi are people, too. Yuki is angry at her, too, telling her that the Topi might put her head on a pike. Vaela counters that the Aven'ei are brutal, too, and recounts the bodies they saw from the plane. Another person who is with them, Takashi, says that Vaela makes a valid point. Yuki and Takashi start arguing. Vaela tries to get them to stop, and Yuki tells her that she is, and will always be, an outsider. 

My comments: in that passage and before, Vaela seems to be wanting to help. That, however, is another problem with how she is developed. She's a white character, entering a place of Native and People of Color, attempting to improve their lives--according to her standards. This a white savior. 

Chapter Twenty-Two

The Topi come into the village. Noro goes out to fight, telling Vaela to stay in the bedroom with her knives. But later, she starts thinking she can at least kill one Topi (p. 216):
If I were to try and fight, I would almost surely die. But I might kill one. One Topi whose thirst for blood cannot be quenched except in death.
She goes outside. As she walks she hears rhythmic pounding. She remembers Yuki talking about the drums of war. She sees a Topi and maps out a route to position herself. She notices he's got his eyes fixed on someone that she recognizes to be Keiji. He's struck in the neck. She rushes to him. Noro and another assassin get there, too. Noro goes looking for the Topi who shot Keiji. Vaela thinks the Topi archer "does not have long to live."

My comments: When I started this chapter-by-chapter read, I noted that a Native reader--and especially one who is Hopi--would have a different experience than, perhaps, most others who read these passages about killing. To make them as brutal as possible, this Topi is firing at a child (remember, Keiji is only ten years old).

Chapter Twenty-Three

They take Keiji to a healer. Noro arrives shortly. Vaela asks if he killed the Topi archer and replies "good" when he says he did. Noro tells her she would not have killed a Topi. Instead, she would have been killed, and if not that, she'd have been "captured, raped and beaten--kept to be used by any savage who wanted you" (p. 225). 

My comments: On the heels of the Topi warrior who shot a child, Drake puts forth a scenario where a "savage" rapes, beats, and uses the blonde as he wishes. 

Vaela tells Noro she wants to return to the Spire to get help. Noro tells her they already know what is happening, that they've known for over 200 years and not intervened. Vaela is sure she can persuade them. She promises she'll return (p. 229):
I give you my word I will return. And when I do, I will bring peace to the Continent. One way or another, I will ring peace.

My comments: Again, Drake depicts her main character as a white savior.

Chapter Twenty-Four

The village leaders approve of Vaela's plan to return to the Spire. Noro will take her to Ivanel. 

Chapter Twenty-Five

Vaela and Noro arrive on Ivanel. He's impressed with the building and the glass windows. She tells him it has other things, too, like an indoor swimming pool, racquet courts, cedar saunas, and toilets. Soon after that, they say their good-byes. Noro leaves Ivanel.

My comments: that scene strikes me as tone deaf and heartless. Didn't they just spend hours with Keiji, worried for his life? I guess out-of-sight, out-of-mind... 

Chapter Twenty-Six

Valea plans for her return to the Spire where she will try to persuade the Heads of State to intervene.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Vaela arrives at her home at the Spire.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Vaela goes to the Chancellery for her meeting with the sweet-faced Mr. Lowe of the West who has dark skin and pale eyes, Mr. Wey of the East who is a scholarly man in spectacles, Mr. Chamberlain of the South, who is sickly looking, has a slender mustache, and watery eyes, and Mrs. Pendergrast of the North who looks like she spent her life sucking on sour candy. Vaela notices that Mr. Lowe and Mrs. Pendergrast avoid each other. 

Mr. Lowe thinks the Aven'ei could be relocated to the Spire. Mrs. Pendergrast thinks they're uncivilized and should not be brought there. Vaela tells them the Aven'ei are not uncivilized, but that they wouldn't leave their homes. Mr. Lowe asks her what she wants, then, if not to help them relocate. 

Vaela says she wants the Spire to build a wall between the Aven'ei and the Topi. Mr. Lowe thinks it a good idea but Mrs. Pendergrast wonders who will pay for it, and that they don't have sufficient resources to "erect walls for a bunch of savages" (p. 263). The chancellor takes a vote. The only one who votes yes is Mr. Lowe. The four argue with Mr. Lowe about peace and the value of their own lives over those of the Aven'ei. Vaela leaves, angry. 

My comments: A wall? I don't know how long trump (lower case t for his name is not a typo) has been talking about a wall. I don't know when Drake came up with this part of her novel. Timing is unfortunate, but the idea... THE IDEA of a wall... introduced to young readers as a solution, delivered by the wealthy--in this case, Vaela Sun of the East Nation of the Spire--to the "uncivilized" peoples of the Continent... it reeks, Ms. Drake! Nobody in the novel says "that's messed up." This idea, of this wall, is put forth, uncritically. 

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Vaela waits for the Chancellor to make arrangements for her to return to the Continent.

Chapter Thirty

Vaela reunites with Noro and tells him the Spire is not coming to help. 

Chapter Thirty-One

Vaela settles back into her cottage and working on the farm but gets into an argument with Shoshi (he owns the farm and is one of the village leaders). He calls her a "takaharu" and tells her to leave and never return. 

Vaela tells Yuki what happened and what he called her. The word "takaharu" means someone who is promiscuous, wanton, and revels in the sexual company of the enemy. Yuki thinks Vaela should tell Noro of this slander of her honor, but Vaela dismisses that idea, saying "Oh, honestly, you Aven'ei! My honor is intact."  

Chapter Thirty-Two

Noro tells Vaela that it was the Aven'ei that started this war with the Topi, when the Aven'ei thought it would be an easy thing to take land from the Topi. He says they didn't anticipate "what they would become."

My comments: What were they before? Peaceful? Why did the Aven'ei think they could easily take the land? Did they view the Topi as child-like? Primitive? 

Chapter Thirty-Three

The Aven'ei have gathered and are making ready for war. One evening, Yuki sings a song about a battle at Sana-Zo. The group talks about their final stand happening at the Southern Vale where they've gathered. After the battle, she says, only the Topi will be left to sing about the battle (p. 289):
"They don't sing," Noro says. "They howl." 
They all laugh.

My comments: Native people depicted as animal-like... If you're a regular reader of AICL, you know that happens a lot. If you have a copy of Little House on the Prairie, pull it out and read it. See how many ways Wilder depicts Native people as animal-like. Of course, that depiction is unacceptable.

On the third day at Southern Vale, the Topi "swarm" and "look like ants" as they fill the Vale. There are eight thousand of them, and only four thousand of the Aven'ei. Vaela hears drums again, along with "the clamoring insect noise of the Topi" (p. 293). The battles begin. Vaela and Noro are separated. 

My comments: Here, Drake returns to an earlier characterization of the Topi as being ants. This time, though, she adds that they swarm and make insect noises. Need I say why this is offensive? 

Chapter Thirty-Four

Gory fighting begins. Vaela kills a Topi man. She's repulsed by it but wants to do it again. She comes across a Topi whose intestines are spread across his belly. She kills him out of mercy. She looks up and sees another, a few feet away. He has yellow face paint and is grinning at her. She throws two knives at him, turns, and runs. He chases her, grabs her hair, throws her down. He snarls at her and chokes her. Her hands drop to her side, she finds another knife and starts stabbing him. He throws her down and just as he is about to strike her with his axe, Shoshi arrives and kills him. She turns, kills another Topi. Vaela and Shoshi stand together, looking across the field. Most Aven'ei are dead. There are still many Topi. She hears a buzz, looks up, and sees twelve heli-planes. The Spire has come, after all.


My comments: I'm at the end of my patience with this chapter-by-chapter read. What comes to mind each time I read that is the helicopter scene from Apocalypse Now, where they American forces blast Ride of the Valkyries. 

Chapter Thirty-Five

The heli-planes hover low, over the field of battle. From one, an amplified voice booms, telling them to cease fighting, to cease the war, to stop, or they will be killed. The fighting doesn't stop, so, the men in the heli-planes start shooting. Topi men fall, "by the hundreds" (p. 305). The fighting stops. Some Topi howl at the heli-planes. The voice booms again, telling them to return to their own territories and not to pass onto the other's realm again. The Topi move westward; the Aven'ei move to the east. 

The voice, Vaela realizes, is Mr. Lowe. It booms again, asking her to come to the heli-plane. Once there, she says she doesn't know what to say. He tells her she said all that needed saying, back at the Chancellory. The West chose to act alone, which led to a dissolution of the Spire. Mr. Lowe tells Vaela they (the West) will build the wall that she suggested. The war is over. He (Mr. West) will see to it. 

Vaela reunites with Noro. He says it is time to bury the dead and help the wounded. She tells him they can live a life now, without war. He says "we shall see" and she replies (p. 312):
It is done now," I say, gesturing up at the heli-planes. "The West has come to ensure peace. You need never wear the shadow of the itzatsune again."
They kiss. She thinks that she knows peace, once again, for now, and that sometimes, now is enough.

The story ends. 

My comments: White saviors abound! In booming voices they tell those two warring peoples to.... go to their rooms. And, of course, they do as they're told! And just to make sure they don't get into any more fights, those white saviors are going to erect a wall to keep them apart. Those booming White voices will make sure peace reigns. 

----

Moving out of italics, now, for some background information and closing thoughts on Kiera Drake's The Continent.  As noted at the start of this page, the release for the book was postponed so the author could revisit it and make revisions. Prior to that announcement, there had been a lot of incisive discussion of the book on Twitter. 

Drake responded to it on November 5, 2016. Here's the first paragraph of her response:
I am saddened by the recent controversy on Twitter pertaining to THE CONTINENT. I abhor racism, sexism, gender-ism, or discrimination in any form, and am outspoken against it, so it was with great surprise and distress that I saw the comments being made about the book. I want everyone to know that I am listening, I am learning, and I am trying to address concerns about the novel as thoughtfully and responsibly as possible.
On November 7, 2016, author Zoraida Córdova wrote An Open Letter on Fantasy World Building and Keira Drake's Apology.

That same day, Halequin Teen posted this notice at their Tumblr page:




The assumption is that the book can be revised.  

Is that possible? What would Drake change? In her response on November 5, she wrote:
THE CONTINENT was written with a single theme in mind: the fact that privilege allows people to turn a blind eye to the suffering of others. It is not about a white savior, or one race vs. another, or any one group of people being superior to any other. Every nation, and every character in the book is flawed.
Almost three months ago, Drake felt that Vaela is not a white savior. Has she changed her mind? Does my close read help her see that it is, indeed, a white savior story? Ironically, (to quote her words), she seems to be blind to the suffering of others. She seems to think that every nation and every character in her book is flawed. I wouldn't argue with that statement. It is the degree to which they're flawed, and the ability of readers to SEE them as flawed that is the problem. She herself doesn't seem to be able to see the white savior! It is right there on the last pages!

Elsewhere on her site, there's a description of the book:
Keira Drake‘s young adult fantasy, THE CONTINENT, is part action adventure, part allegory, and part against-the-odds survival story. Engaging with questions of social responsibility, the nature of peace and violence, and the value (and danger) of nationalism, Drake’s debut is as thought-provoking as it is fast-paced and surprising, a heart-pounding and heartbreaking story of strength and survival.
Her story rests completely upon the idea that one of these peoples--the Topi (the Native people)--are utterly barbaric. They're animal like. They're insect like. None of that is effectively challenged by anyone in the story or by the author, either, in how any of the characters think. There is that one scene when Noro and Yuki are angry at her for trying to tell them the Topi aren't the only ones who are brutal, but overwhelmingly, Drake's characters think of them as less-than. 

She could rewrite parts of the story so that someone says WTF are you doing thinking of these people as insects right away when Vaela first thinks of the Topi as ants, but who would do that? And what would it do to the rest of the story? It seems to me it would need a massive rewrite. 

Drake may have set out to write a book about social responsibility, the nature of peace and violence, the value and danger of nationalism, but again, who is the audience? As I said above, I seriously doubt that she ever thought of a Native reader. If we add Native readers to the audience, what do they have to endure so that all the other readers discern Drake's themes? Yes, they could set the book down. They don't have to read it. Or... do they? What if it is assigned in school? Given the state of the world, teachers might think it the perfect novel to discuss what is happening in so many places. 

I might be back with more thoughts, later. I'll certainly be back to fix typos and formatting errors I've missed, or clarify thoughts that--on a second or third read--need work. I may be back to write about the Discussion Questions that are at the end of the book. They were not in my ARC, but colleagues who have an ARC with the questions sent them to me.
  
______

See:

Justina Ireland's The Continent, Carve the Mark, and the Dark Skinned Aggressor

______

Update on Feb 1, 2016, at 8:45 AM:
I've learned that there was more discussion of the book on January 23rd. It prompted Drake to respond. Here's part of what she said:
While I cannot control what others may say, I can communicate to you here in very clear terms that I value criticism, have listened to all feedback concerning the book, and am working to address those concerns. I remain tremendously appreciative to those in the writing community who offered constructive insight, guidance, and feedback in regard to THE CONTINENT. I feel very blessed to have such an incredible network of friends, critics, readers, and industry professionals at my side, and am so grateful to Harlequin TEEN for allowing me the opportunity to revise before publication. I see with clarity that the comparisons drawn between the fictitious peoples of the book and those of existing cultures are valid and important, and, once again, wish to communicate how sorry I am that the original version of the book reflected these and other harmful representations.

Thursday, March 20, 2014

NOT RECOMMENDED: Rosanne Parry's WRITTEN IN STONE

Editor's notes:
  • 3-22-2014, 7:13AM: Rosanne Parry submitted a comment to this review. I pasted her comment and my response to her comment beneath the review for your convenience (both are also visible in the comment section). 
  • 3/29/2014, 9:03AM: I've continued to paste Parry and my comments into the body of the review.
  • 4/6/2014, 5:59 PM: Please read the comments, too, submitted by others, and submit yours, too. 
  • 4/25/2014, 4:42 PM: I'm re-reading the book, and revisiting my notes as I do... There are so many areas of concern that did not get into the review below. Not sure yet what I'll do with them. Perhaps an essay, later, when this conversation is over. 
  • 9/25/2018, 7:43 PM: I contacted Janine Ledford, Executive Director at the Makah Cultural and Research Center, to ask if the museum store sells Written In Stone. Ms. Ledford wrote back to say they do not sell it.
~~~~~

In the late 1990s, one of the big stories circulating amongst Native people was what was happening with the Makah Nation in the state of Washington. For the first time in decades, they were going to go whaling. Choosing to hunt again was their choice. It was the exercise of their sovereignty.

They had stopped whaling in the 1920s because commercial whaling had overwhelmed the gray whale, such that it was placed on the endangered animals list. When the gray whale was removed from that status, the Makah nation's leaders declared their intent to resume their whale hunt. Their desire to do so was challenged by groups that did not want them to hunt and it ended up in court. The Makah won the case. Environmentalists were furious. There was intense media coverage (see this article from the LA Times). Protesters carried signs that said "Save a Whale, Hunt a Makah." The school received bomb threats. The hunt took place in May of 1999.

That knowledge is what I brought to my reading of Written In Stone (published in 2013 by Random House). It'll help, before I begin, to say that the structure for Parry's book is Pearl (the protagonist) in 1999, then in 1923, and then back in 1999 again.

Pearl - the "old woman" who opens/closes Written In Stone

Rosanne Parry's book, Written In Stone, opens with Pearl, an "old woman" (on page 181 Parry describes her as an old woman) headed to the beach for that 1999 whale hunt. Reporters are all around, but there are no clues that this was a contested moment. Pearl reflects back on her childhood, to 1923 when she was thirteen, and was waiting for her father to return from a hunt. That remembering is the bulk of the story Parry tells. The last part of the story returns to Pearl in 1999. As she walks to the beach, she hears the click and whir of cameras.

Parry does not reference the media frenzy or anti-Makah activity anywhere. Pearl, if she was a real person, would definitely have been enduring it. Parry's Pearl doesn't reference the antagonism at all. As I read the story, though, Parry created Pearl as an activist (more on that later). Not having Pearl note the anti-Makah activities as she walks to the whale they've hunted doesn't ring true. And--Parry calling her an "old woman" doesn't work for me personally. Pearl would be called an elder.

The Author's Note

Parry divided her Author's Note into several sections. She begins with "Connections" on page 177, where she tells us that:
"As a fifth grader, I saw the Raven stories told and danced by Chief Lelooska and his family at their longhouse in Ariel, Washington. When the dancer pulled the hidden string that split the mask open to reveal the sun it seemed as magical to me in the firelight as any movie special effect." 
Reading how taken she was with Lelooska gave me pause. The place Parry visited was/is a performance space that is not affiliated with any of the tribes in that area. The person who went by "Chief Lelooska" is a man named Don Smith. In Chris Friday's Lelooska: The Life of a Northwest Coast Artist (University of Washington Press, 2011), we read that he was born in Sonoma, California to a woman who was 3/4 Cherokee but not raised or enrolled with the Cherokee Nation.

The "About Chief Lelooska" page at the website for the Lelooska Foundation says that "Lelooska" is a Nez Perce name, given to Smith when the Nez Perce adopted him when he was 12 years old. In the second paragraph, we read that he was later adopted by a Kwakiutl man named James Sewid, and that the adoption came hereditary rights to Sewid's family heritage. In short, Lelooska can do what Sewid did, which is to perform Kwakiutl stories. Later on that page, we read that Lelooska is an authority on Indians of North America.

Smith's story is quite familiar. There are many people who were taken with Native artifacts and started making and selling them. When actual tribal peoples are called in to look over the items supposed to be authentic, they're found to be little more than craft work of hobbyists. There are critical reviews of Lelooska. Friday alludes to his problematic identity (and to Sewid's controversial activities, too), and so do others, but I gather Parry is unaware of them. In her Resources section, she lists the Lelooska Foundation and two of his books as resources for young readers.

In the Connections section, Parry writes about teaching 5th graders at Taholah Elementary School on the Quinault reservation. Specifically, she writes about a discussion they had about story, and that a student asked "Why is the story never about us?" (p. 178). Another student said "I guess nothing is going to change unless somebody here grows up and writes that book" (p. 179). Then she writes "I did not imagine I would be the one to grow up and write the book" that is Written In Stone. She dedicates the book to those students, who, "asked for a book of their own. I never forgot, and after all these years, this story is for you and all of your children and even someday your grandchildren."

We can look at Parry's decision to write that book as a wonderful decision. She wrote it, I'm guessing, a decade or so after she left there. She doesn't tell us how long she taught at Taholah. My overall sense is that she was was deeply moved by teaching there, which makes me wonder why she left. Memories, though, lingered such that she decided to write the book.

Problems in Pearl as a 13 year old

A quick overview of the main points of the story of Pearl as a 13 year old:

  • Her father is killed on a whale hunt; her mother has been dead for 5 years, of influenza
  • Without a whale, Pearl's extended family is worried about survival
  • Her grandfather gets a letter from a collector (Mr. Glen); if they work with him, it could be a source of badly needed income
  • Pearl plans to steal her father's regalia so her family won't sell it, but on her way to do it, gets hurt and spends a couple of days on a part of the shore where she finds petroglyphs and decides not to go through with her plan
  • Back with her family, Pearl figures out the collector's real agenda is to get them drunk and get their signatures on documents signing away mineral rights to coal and oil in "Shipwreck Cove."
  • Pearl undermines the collector/speculator's activities by writing letters to other tribes along the coast

As I read the story of thirteen-year-old Pearl, I kept getting a sense of writing that was more influenced by Chief Lelooska and somewhat romantic ideas of Native people, past and present, than by the Makah students Parry taught.

For example, when we meet the thirteen-year-old Pearl, she says she is a princess, and that her mother was a Tlingit princess. Where, I wonder, did Parry find support for so boldly proclaiming that identity for Pearl?

In various places, we read that Pearl is the one who is going to remember the songs, dances, and stories. She will commit them to memory, and she will write them down. She is the one who will save all those aspects of their culture for the tribe. Her grandmother gives her a journal to write in, and a fancy pen, too, but later, Pearl wonders if there's a rule against women writing, so some of this thread has gaps that creep in, I think, as Parry tries to tease out (inject?!) some feminist ideas about what women can/cannot do.

Another inconsistency is that her father didn't burn her mother's loom. He was supposed to burn everything, and burning everything is such a dramatic moment early on in the story, that when I got to that part--with a blanket partly intact on the loom--it didn't make sense to me. Maybe I was supposed to fill in a gap that her mother's weaving was so important that her father would refuse to burn it, but, her grandmother went on at one point about how her dad had to burn everything in order to survive the pain of losing his wife.

In several places, Pearl talks about a "robe of power." Her dad had one, and her mom had one, and she wants one, too. Her dad was going to make one for her, but his death put an end to that process. The ways she talks of that "robe of power" feel odd to me. Some articles of clothing do have significance, so I do understand that. I think it was just over-used in the story.

When Pearl is afraid her family may sell her father's regalia to the collector, she makes a plan to steal her father's things and move away to live amongst white people, where she imagines that the "bread-loaf brown faded from my skin" (p. 123) when she'll be pale like a weevil. As someone with brown skin, I can tell you that it never fades to the pale tones of a weevil.

Back to 1999

Back in 1999, Pearl recounts having written a thousand letters to tribes, governors, senators, and presidents. The became the editor of an Indian newspaper, and one of the authors of the Quinault and Makah dictionaries. She wrote a book about medicinal plants, and made sound recordings of the old songs. Earlier, I said she became an activist. This recitation of all her activities is evidence of that activist identity and is why it doesn't make sense to me that Pearl doesn't mention the whaling controversy when the book opens, or here, either. Maybe we are meant to think she's beyond or above that controversy, but all of these things Pearl did just makes me think of Don "Chief Lelooska" Smith again. By that, I mean, that the man had a huge ego, and, so does Pearl.

As I noted on opening this review, the Makah decision to whale again was a decision to exercise their rights as a sovereign nation. It was preceded by activism of the 1960s and 1970s when the tribal nations of the northwest coast won a major case in the Supreme Court, again, over the rights stated in the treaty they signed with the U.S. Government in 1855.

Parry demonstrates some understanding of political battles. Her reference to the exploitation of collectors is one example. She wanted to write a book that would reflect the lives of her Makah students, and, perhaps, the Makah's long-standing activism to protect their rights. Pearl's effort to keep items from the collector is a gesture in that direction, but that isn't what that collector--or Parry--was focused on. Instead, Parry makes up two things. In the Author's Note, she tells us she made these up:


  • First is the petroglyphs. She says that there are, in fact, petroglyphs are around that area, but that she made up the ones in her book--the ones that are so pivotal in what Pearl does. 



  • Second, she made up the cove and the coal and oil that are in that cove, and she shrouds that cove with Makah stories about monsters that keep kids away from there. In doing that, she's making up tribal stories, too.   


There are other things that are jarring to me, that I wonder if they, like the petroglyphs and cove, are made up:


  • Having Pearl play "Pirates and Indians" made me go "huh?" I would love to see Parry's source for that. 



  • I'm also wondering about a source for the part of the story where the Indian Agent makes her father burn all of her mother's things, AND her mother's body, and the baby, too when she dies of influenza. It was the Influenza epidemic of 1918. I haven't found support for burning of bodies, whether they were Native or not. 


My bottom line?

As a Native reader, I find made-up stuff all the time. It is troublesome, but in this case, it is worse because Parry deliberately set out to write a book for those kids in Taholah, who--I imagine--are dealing with made up stuff all the time, too. If I was a writer, I wouldn't add to that pile of made-up-stuff. It'd be hard to imagine myself doing it and then handing it to the kids.

In the end, I can't recommend this book.

A couple of tips to writers: keep in mind that Native people already have a huge pile of made-up stuff to deal with. I don't think we need to add to it. And, check your sources! Check the knowledge you bring to your project! I think if Parry had let go of her memories of Chief Lelooska and done some background research on him, she'd have written a different book. [One more tip, added an hour after this review went live as I started shutting down all the windows I had open while working on my review: Read Native journals! There's an excellent article in American Indian Quarterly (volume 29 #1 and 2) about the Makah museum and working with staff there. Titled "Forging Indigenous Methodologies on Cape Flatterly" it provides insights on how tribal peoples work with people who are not tribal members so that projects fit within the frame of native nation building (which I've written about before) that are mutually beneficial.]

I invite your comments on my review.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Rosanne Parry's comment, posted on Friday, March 21, 2014, at 11:55 AM

Debbie, thank you for your thoughtful and lengthy review of Written in Stone. It's unusual for any reviewer to go to the depth you have and I appreciate the concerns you've raised in this blog post. Writing a novel, in my experience, is mostly about taking things out, so I'm grateful for the opportunity to discuss the ideas in the story and elements of the Quinault and Makah culture in more detail--elements that would have been didactic within the book but are great fuel for conversation around the book. I have reasons for all the story choices I've made and I'm always glad to discuss them. 

I don't want to clog up your blog with lengthy comments, so I'll respond to your concerns on my own blog over the next month or so. Please don't construe my remarks as disapproval of what you've said. I'm just happy to have a conversation on a topic we both care about. 

I will comment briefly on the choice of old woman vs. elder as a description for Pearl as a great-grandmother. I'm not entirely happy with that word choice myself. Elder would be the expected word and my editor asked me why I didn't choose it in this passage. But in my time in Taholah I never remember hearing the older generation referred to as elders. Seniors is the term I always heard. When I was invited back to Taholah for a celebration of Written in Stone this May I was asked to speak to the seniors in the afternoon before the evening event. So in earlier drafts I used the word senior. The trouble is most readers of this book will be in fourth grade (when Native cultures of the Pacific northwest are studied in Oregon and Washington). Kids this age tend to associate the word senior with 17 year old high school students--not an image I want to evoke. 

This is a word choice I'd gladly reconsider. And fortunately we have a window of opportunity right now before the book goes to paperback to make a different choice. Do you have another word that you think would work better? I hate it when one word in a book rings false to me and takes me out the story. I'm sorry you had that experience with old woman as a description of Pearl. I'll have to go back and look up the Quinault word for grandmother. That might be the best solution. But I am in earnest in asking you for your opinion. There probably is a better choice to make, and both I and my publisher are committed to putting out the best version of this story possible. They've always been supportive of this in the past and I'm sure they will be now. 

Thanks again for your review. I'm always looking for good stories set among the tribes of the northwest and in particular ones by a Native American author. I'm very interested in encouraging a more diverse group of writers for children, and I'm glad to have you here championing their work.




Debbie's response to Parry, Saturday, March 22, 2014 at 7:00 AM

Rosanne,

I am replying to your question about the use of "old woman" but there is a lot more that pulled me out of the story. 

You call Pearl an "old woman" in your author's note. That is what I was referring to (I included a page number). That is who she is in your mind. 

Personally, the phrase that comes to my mind when I think of older women at home is elder. If I was writing that author note as the author, I would think "elder" and not "old woman." I would have written "with Pearl as an elder" rather than "with Pearl as an old woman". It isn't wrong for you to say "old woman." That is who she is to you. More than being right/wrong, I think it demonstrates outsider perspective.

You use "old woman" when Jeremiah speaks to the white agent (when the agent thinks Pearl should go away to school). That was fine. In that context, "old woman" works.

Later, when Susi tells Pearl to write everything down, Pearl worries that she might get something wrong. The text reads "I imagined the whole row of old women who sit in the honored positions at all the feasts. I imagined them shaking their heads and clucking to each other about that pathetic Pearl Carver, a girl who didn't know her own stories properly." Your use of "old women" there--you can ask your contacts what they would use. At that moment Pearl sure isn't thinking well of her elders, is she, thinking they'd "cluck." I'd run that by your contacts, too. Though that phrase "cluck" or "clucking" has been around a very long time among English speaking people, its use by a Makah girl in the 1920s feels odd, and, it is more like what an adult, not a child, would say. 

We use "seniors" at Nambe, too, by the way, but the contextual use is different and related to the community projects in place to care and support them. My sister might say "the seniors are having a..." and I'd know she was talking about the senior citizens. My sister's kids would know what she meant, too. You're right, though. Non-Native kids, or Native kids who aren't living in a tight Native community would read "seniors" and think of students in a high school. You heard "seniors" because that is the context of your interaction with the students and community. 

I'll be out in Washington doing some workshops with librarians in April. I'll ask them about some of this, too.

That said, those are words. They could be changed but the overall sense I have in reading the story doesn't ring true. What I get in reading your book is more of an outsider perspective. 

Please don't worry about clogging up my site. I welcome the conversation, too. 


----------

Parry's response, March 23 2014, 12:03 AM CDT:

Since you're open to an ongoing conversation I'll continue to comment here and post these comments on my blog with a link to yours and also some pictures and maps and other things that I hope will help others who are interested follow the conversation. 

I was happy to see both you and Beverly Slapin comment on the controversy surrounding the 1999 Makah whale hunt. It was big news in the region and I'm glad to hear that the news made the national stage as well. The best information on how hunts are conducted is found on the Makah website. I put a link to that on my blog. There is much additional information to be found at the Makah Cultural Research Center in Neah Bay. 

The resumption of whaling by the Makah encountered some vociferous opposition, most notably by the Sea Shepherd Society, but it also found support from a number of places. The International Whaling Commission verified that the gray whale is no longer an endangered species. There were marine safety issues to work out with local agencies. The hunt took place near a very busy international shipping lane, so that called for some communication and planning. Those negotiations were lengthy and complex but it's not my impression that they were acrimonious. Unfortunately the peaceful working out of details does not make for exciting news, so I think the national outlets in particular paid attention to controversy more than cooperation. 

I heard the Chairman of the Makah Whaling commission speak in Portland about the day of the hunt back in 2000. He said that on the morning of the hunt, the media was not present when the whalers set out and arrived only after the whale had already been brought in. The helicopters and cameras did show up eventually and the atmosphere on the beach got a bit chaotic, but there was a brief window of time when the Makah were (not completely but nearly) alone with their whale, and that time meant a great deal to them. Cultural renewal is the phrase the chairman used to describe what that moment meant to the tribe. 

That is the moment I wanted for Pearl and her great-granddaughter. The reader can deduce from the news helicopter chop that the moment of peace will be brief but it's the prerogative of the novelist to pick the focus of a scene and I wanted to end with that one moment of connection for Pearl's family and their whale. 


Absolutely true that the activist that Pearl grew up to be would have been in the thick of the work of resuming the treaty right to hunt whales. In fact when I first thought about writing this story I wanted to write about the resumption of whaling. Self-determination of natural resources is a piece of the civil rights story that seldom gets told. It's a rich history and one I'd love to see in books for kids. 

Ahem! you publishing professionals who have said in my hearing that there's a need for more middle grade non-fiction, this is the perfect topic for a non-fiction series! It involves geography, history, a variety of Native and Non-native cultures, biology, chemistry, climate change, economics, international trade. Think of the possibilities for critical thinking and curriculum connections! 


Back to the topic at hand :-)


I left the whaling controversy out of Written in Stone for several reasons. Most of all I wanted to keep the focus on Pearl as a teenager in the 1920s and leave the 1999 whale hunt to serve as a frame and show that although the Makah lost whaling in the 1920s, it was not lost to them forever. It also shows that the Makah have not vanished nor maintained an Amish-like distance from the things of modern life, but continue to live and thrive in the same place they've always lived. 

As I researched the whale hunt the piece of it that really interested me was that the Makah who had organized their culture around whale hunting voluntarily gave it up when they saw the whale populations plummet in the Pacific. That cultural survival piece of how to go on being the people that you are when something that so defined you is gone. That's interesting to me personally and I think it's something that people from a wide variety of cultures can relate to. It's true that I'm writing as an outsider to the Makah experience. A fiction writer is always writing outside of her experience. However, the Irish have long suffered the suppression of their culture, language, music, literature, and dance. And I know how I feel about playing a jig or hornpipe that's hundreds of years old or dancing a set from my father's ancestral county; it's an avenue of insight for me. Many people have an experience of cultural loss in coming to this country and although it is not the same experience it does make the story more accessible to the reader. So I chose to focus on the cultural survival aspect of this story rather than the resumption of whaling.

I also felt that a contemporary story about the Makah whaling experience would be better told by a whaler or other member of the tribe. I'd much prefer to use my book, imperfect instrument that it is, to nudge local writers in the direction of writing and publishing. In fact I'm happy to hear you'll be in Washington. I've been developing the position of Youth Outreach Coordinator in our local SCBWI, in part, for the purpose of fostering a more diverse generation writers. Perhaps that's an area where we could work together. One of the benefits of having a book published at a large publishing house is that it can attract attention to an issue. There is still so little in print about tribes of the northwest, and my hope is that if this book does well enough, then other publishers will see the potential for more books set among these tribes and addressing these vital issues--a need that could be filled by local writers. 

I'll stop here for today but later this week I'll get to the pirates and indians bit because, yes, there is a story about that!



Debbie's response to Parry, Monday March 24 2014, 11:27 AM CDT:

Thanks, Rosanne, for continuing to comment here. 

A quick note: when Native people assert our rights to this or that, it is not CIVIL rights, it is TREATY rights. 

It is common--but incorrect--to characterize Native activism as "civil rights" because most of American society thinks of social movements of American citizens as centered on civil rights.



Parry's response to Debbie, Tuesday March 25 2014, 5:40 PM CDT:

Absolutely right about the treaty rights being a different issue than civil rights. 

I'm thinking in terms of what will work for schools and the treaty issues raised here and in a number of the other books you have recommended could find place in the curriculum under the broader umbrella of civil rights history. Not a perfect fit but I have a lot of confidence in a teacher's ability to make the necessary distinctions with students.

Treaty rights as they pertain to natural resources could also find a place in the science curriculum under conservation or environmental literacy. Again not a perfect fit but I think we both want to see lots of books with Native American characters used in schools and to do so we'll have to find a spot somewhere in the common core for them to perch. 

I'd love to see a non-fiction book about treaty rights too. That would be a great resource, because it's another of those frequently misunderstood topics. 



Parry's comment, Friday, March 28 2014, 9:03 AM CDT:

I promised to tell you a little more about Pirates and Indians and the week got away from me. Sorry about that. Here are my thoughts.

The word or phrase that pulls the reader out of the story is sometimes a flaw in in the author's word choices and sometimes the inevitable result of what the reader brings to the page, but sometimes it is the intention of the author to invite a reader to pause outside of the story for a moment and reflect. Such is the case with the pirates and indians remark in Written in Stone. The reader is naturally expecting the phrase cowboys and indians so the pirate reference invites the observation that there no cowboys in this story and no horses. 

Most Americans associate horses and teepees with Native Americans but that's a very narrow picture of the more than 500 nations that reside here. The Quinault and Makah have never been horse cultures. The Olympic Peninsula gets 15 feet of rain a year. It's part of the only temperate rainforest in North America. It's very difficult to keep horses alive in such a wet climate and there's nothing that grows natively for them to eat. 

These tribes are a maritime culture, two of the many tribes of the Pacific who make ocean going canoes. Their navigational skills are impressive. Historically they traveled as far north as Alaska and up the Columbia to Celilo Falls. Extensive canoe journeys are still made regularly. Most recently the Quinaults hosted an event which gathered hundreds of people from the native cultures of the Pacific who traveled to Taholah by canoe. 

(Debbie, we haven't talked about the cover so I'm not sure how you feel about it but, I am so pleased my cover artist Richard Tuschman chose a canoe for the cover of this book. I'm also thrilled that Random House paid attention to the lack of children of color on book covers in general and made sure Pearl appeared--not in silhouette--on the cover of this one.)

There is a story about a contact between Spanish Pirates and the Quinaults which predates their contact with English speaking settlers. As the story goes the Quinaults resisted the pirates so fiercely at see that the Spanish fled and no Spanish ship ever landed on their shores again. It's impossible to verify this event, but as used in the story as a passing reference, it doesn't matter. The Spanish did travel in these waters. The Quinaults had experience fighting at sea. If it didn't happen, it could have which is evidence enough for a work of fiction.

The larger purpose of the reference though is to invite a conversation about what makes this tribe and this ecosystem and this culture different from other Native American tribes with which my reader may be more familiar. In my opinion the conversation that happens because of a book is far more important than anything that's actually in the book. Which I why I'm so grateful for this conversation here. Thanks for continuing to engage with me Debbie.



Debbie's response to Parry, March 29 2014 at 8:50 AM CDT:

I thought the support for your use of "pirates and Indians" would be that, in your research, you had found the phrase being used by a Makah in the 1920s. 

What you offer instead is an awareness of history and material culture of the Makah, and, why you used that awareness to use "pirates" instead of "cowboys" when you have Pearl say that "pirates and Indians was our favorite game" (p. 42). 

I appreciate your explanation, but I don't buy that Pearl's favorite game in 1920 would be to play pirates and Indians. 

Here's why:

There is evidence of non-Native people dressing up to play Indian. Philip Deloria documents this quite well in his PLAYING INDIAN, published by Yale University Press in 1999. 

Playing Indian (doing what was perceived to be Indian things) arose out of a desire to carve out an American identity that, in various ways, emulated Native peoples in the US, thereby making an American identity distinct on an international stage. Boy scouts played Indian, and secret societies also played Indian. An affinity for doing that became pervasive in American society.

The question at hand is: did Native children do it, too, in the 1920s? How did Pearl know what that form of play looked like? She'd have to know about stereotypes of Indians that were used to play pirates/cowboys and Indians, wouldn't she? 

Where did Pearl get that information? 

Elsewhere in her book, Parry has white children pretending to be Indians by war whooping and shooting arrows at Pearl. With that scene, she suggests that the idea of playing Indian in the 1920s involved war whooping and shooting arrows at others. Given that all the way back in 1773, Bostonians war whooped as they threw tea into Boston Harbor, the war whooping part works. The shooting arrows? I'm not sure.

To carry Rosanne's explanation a bit further, wouldn't Pearl have been playing Pirates and Makahs, rather than Pirates and Indians? What would playing Pirates and Makahs look like? It helps to frame this in my own world, at Nambe Pueblo. Historically, our wars were with the Spanish, too, specifically the conquistadors and Catholic church. According to Rosanne's explanation, we would play Conquisator's and Indians, or, Conquistadors and Pueblos. 

The thing is, I can't imagine someone from Nambe who was the same age as Pearl in the 1920s, playing Conquistador and Pueblo, OR, Conquistador and Indian. 

I don't think playing Indian was something Native children did as a matter-of-course. Of course, I cannot know that definitively, and as many will point out, Parry's book is a work of fiction, so she can write what she wishes. Still, as her responses to my review indicate, she's striving to get it right. 

Where I end up is this: Even if we replace cowboy with pirate, I don't think Native kids played that way, and that is why I said "huh?" in my review. It doesn't ring true. 



Parry's response to Debbie, March 29 2014 at 3:21 PM CDT:

I'm not surprised at all that conquistadors and indians is not a game among tribes of the southwest. Where is the fun? I really can't fathom how a child would make a game of that. But you and your culture are a very long way from the Pacific northwest. The tribes here fought skirmishes among them selves over the centuries but they aren't a conquered people in the way that many other tribes in the US and Canada have been. They were skilled traders who had relationships across various cultures and international borders. Presumably there was occasional friction over fishing and fur trapping spots. But they never engaged the US army or the army of another nation. The suppression of the potlatch was a real problem but it was police-type work rather than an engagement of combat. They were never forcibly moved off their land though many have migrated to urban areas for economic reasons. 

Also conquistadores are not a part of American popular culture in the way that pirates are. Treasure Island was a widely read book in the 1920s. Errol Flynn didn't make his first pirate movie until the early 30s but there were quite a few other films, including a version of Treasure Island, in the pirate genre by the early 20s, so they would be in the mental repertoire of the era. And perhaps most importantly there's a memory of winning against the pirates which makes it a more appealing avenue for play. I did see little boys on the playground in Taholah playing pirates and indians with sticks for swords and clubs. I was surprised as I don't think I've ever seen another group of kids anywhere playing indians either alone or in combination with cowboy characters. But the boys connected it to the pirate story they'd heard and they were using the sort of pirate talk that was common in movies, so it would be a blend of history and pop culture I think, both in my own experience and in the story in the 1920s. 



Debbie's response to Parry, April 2 2014, 8:00 AM CDT:

Reading your first paragraph, one would think you are quite the expert in American Indian/First Nation history and culture, but your word choices and responses continue to point to an outsider perspective. 

Your "you and your culture" echoes your previous use of "civil rights." Your default is to use words/ideas that reflect a multicultural framework rather than a political one. When I point to your errors in that regard, you say things like "Absolutely" as if you agree and understand the centrality of sovereignty/sovereign nation status and what it means, but your continued use of words in that multicultural framework suggest to me that you don't really get it.   

Your discussion of potlatch is an example of an outsider characterization of Native history. It is wrong to characterize the US laws that prohibited Makah or any Native Nation from practicing our religion simply as "police" work. It was far more than that. It was the outcome of hundreds of years of aggressive action and warfare. Characterizing it as "police" work disconnects it from that history. 

As for Pueblo people, we are well known for the extensive trading networks we had with Native nations all up and down the coast, and we were never forcibly removed from our homelands. We are also known for the Pueblo Revolt of 1680 during which we drove the Spanish out of our homelands. 

Again--I don't buy your explanation for having Pearl play "Pirates and Indians" in 1920. You reference a story in which the Makah defeated the pirates. I have no doubt of that having happened. The Makah and Pueblo people fought to defend our homelands. But you want readers/me to think that Native children in 1920 would play games that white children most definitely play/played in recent decades? Doesn't ring true!     


Parry's response to Debbie, March 31 2014, 11:13 CDT:











Continuing our chat, I thought I'd say a little more about the petrogyphs and the mineral resources of the Olympic Peninsula.

In the story the petroglyphs play a key role in helping Pearl uncover and claim her vocation as a writer and historian for her tribe. The ownership of artwork is a matter I take very seriously and to use an actual rock carving done by a Makah artist and put it in my book with no way of asking permission or compensating that artist fairly for his work would simply be wrong. So instead I invented a group of rock carvings based the carving style and technique I've seen while hiking in this area but copying none of them. To my thinking this is the more just course. Taking what's not mine is wrong. Making things up is what a fiction writer does. When the cover team was meeting I sent them a bunch of photographs of the Olympic Peninsula so they could get a feel for the ecosystem. The pictures included one of a petroglyph which is on public land. I was so happy to see Richard Tuschman, the cover artist, incorporate a few petroglyphs in the cover image--inventing an element in the style of this art but not stealing what is not his to copy.

The other major plot element which is made up is the natural gas vent at Shipwreck Cove and the stories the tribe uses to keep children away from a dangerous place. The accusation that I've made up stories that don't exist is not correct. I've told no stories belonging to the Quinault or Makah, real or made up. I have pointed out something that is distinctive and interesting about their culture though. These tribes use monster stories to keep their children away from danger without having to hover over them constantly. I was struck by how much freedom young people in the community had during my time in Taholah. They walked all over town freely and without immediate supervision but still under the watchful care of the entire community. Places that might be dangerous, such as the ocean with it's powerful undertow and the dump which attracts bears, were bounded about, not with fences, but with scary stories that kept kids from wandering into harm's way. If there was a natural gas vent near the town (and there might be, there were places I was asked not to go myself when I lived there) then certainly there would be stories to warn children away.

As I say in the authors note the cove and its contents are my invention. Whether or not petroleum is present on the Quinault or Makah reservations is something you'd have to ask them about. Each tribe has a natural resources department and they are the ones to speak (or decline to speak) about their reservation lands. Natural gas is present all over the Olympic Peninsula but it's not abundant enough that anyone has drilled for it so far. Prospecting for oil and natural gas was very common in the 1920 and business men with an eye to a quick profit were often unscrupulous in acquiring mineral rights to land. This is not only an injustice directed toward Native Americans. Many white farmers and ranchers fell victim to their swindles as well. And frankly, I'm tired of stories that cast Native Americans as the hapless victim. I wanted a story where they won and did so, not in some wildly unrealistic battle or singlehanded act of heroism, but in the manner that most of life's battles are won: with words, and community, and the hard work of many years.


Debbie's response to Parry, April 4 2014, 11:50 AM CDT:

Maybe it would be wrong to use an existing petroglyph, but that depends on what you did with it. 

What you did instead is definitely problematic because, to use your word, you invented something and labeled it as being Makah. What you invented is based on existing petroglyphs. What you (and Richard Tuschman) have done is inject your thinking and your ideas into Makah ways of viewing the world. You're labeling that invention as Makah. If this was art that you or Tuschman wanted to sell on the open market as "Makah" art, you'd be in violation of US law that prohibits non-Native people from labeling their work as Native (or in this case Makah). That law does not cover literature, but the principles have broad application. 

Technically, you are correct in saying that you did not make up and tell a "monster story" about natural gas vents in the place you made up (Shipwreck Cove). A reader will not find that story in the pages of your book. However! You did make up a "monster story" and put it into the minds of your characters. You made up that story to motivate your characters.

You created the existence of the oil and gas so that you could tell a story about exploitation of Native people. To explain how Pearl would not know about that area, you created a story in her mind that would keep her from going there. For those who haven't read the book, here's that part:

Mr. Glen (the oil man who is masquerading as a collector) asks Pearl to take him to Shipwreck Cove. She doesn't want to go there, saying "It's dangerous up there." He replies, saying "Your demon stories don't scare me" (p. 144). On page 146:
When I was younger and I passed the trail to Shipwreck Cove, I wanted to sneak down and discover its secrets. Charlie and I made a game of guessing what sort of unnamed monster lived there and the vengeance he would take if we disturbed his home. But now, as I set out on the forbidden trail, even with the solid company of my oldest cousin, I felt dread grow.
See? The story is there, even if you haven't put it on the page itself. On page 148, Pearl asks Henry (Pearl's oldest cousin) what makes the awful stench in Shipwreck Cove. He tells her "Grandpa would call it a power of the earth." 

In your last paragraph above, you say that you're "tired of stories that cast Native Americans as the hapless victim" and that you wanted "a story where they won and did so, not in some wildly unrealistic battle or singlehanded act of heroism, but in the manner that most of life's battles are won: with words, and community, and the hard work of many years." 

There are--as you've pointed out elsewhere in this conversation--examples of the Makah doing just that! They've won many battles. But you've chosen not to tell those stories because you think that they should tell those stories. With that in mind, you made up a story where they win, but in making up that story, you commit several wrongs. 

I know you mean well, and that you meant well in creating Written In Stone. As I hope this extended conversation shows, a lot can go wrong if you have an insufficient understanding of Native people and sovereignty. 

Today, tribal nations have developed/are developing protocols describing what they will agree to, and what they expect from researchers who wish to do research on that particular nation. On a global scale, the United Nations issued the Declaration of the Rights of Indigenous Peoples

In short, good intentions are not enough. 


Parry's response to Debbie, April 5 2014, 2:55 PM CDT:

Debbie, I'd love it if you'd include the title of the US law to which you are referring and a link to the text of the law if it's available.

Here is a link to the text of the Declaration of Rights of Indigenous Peoples by the United Nations. http://www.un.org/esa/socdev/unpfii/documents/DRIPS_en.pdf


I think both will be valuable to those following the conversation. Article 11 of the UN declaration is most pertinent to our conversation here, although the whole thing is useful reading.

I think it's worth thinking about why literature was left out of the US law Debbie has referenced. It's also important to bear in mind that the tribes involved in the story were consulted (as the UN declaration recommends) and had ample opportunity to object to the publication of the book. They did not object prior to publication or after. They did offer valuable information and support. 

Being an member of the Nambe Pueblo in Arizona does not give Debbie the standing to speak on behalf of the Quinault and Makah who live in Washington. Nowhere in her remarks has she referenced the wishes of the tribes involved, Nor have I seen any indication that she's ever spoken to somebody from the tribe, let alone lived and worked there and consulted with them over a period of many years as I have in the writing of Written in Stone. They are well able to speak for themselves and in presuming to speak for them Debbie has overstepped her role as a book reviewer. 

However, since I believe she also has good intentions I'm willing to engage her in this conversation and in particular because I believe her methods are undermining her goal of increasing books for young readers by Native American authors. It's an important goal. I'd like to see lots of young Native American writers nurtured all the way to publication by a major publishing house and also publication by their own tribes. One of the major factors in deciding whether a book will be acquired is the comparison to similar titles. So if a Makah or Quinault author would like to publish a book (probably a better book than this one) the publisher will, after making sure its well written and carefully researched, look and see how my book sold before deciding whether to publish their book and how much of an advance to offer. Whether or not that's fair is a side issue. It is how publication decisions get made regardless of the race of the author. It's an important consideration for anybody working in the area of multicultural fiction to bear in mind. Future publishing decisions are made on past sales performance. 

If you are a librarian who wants to see more books with non-white characters then you need to buy those books with non-white characters which are currently in print. If you are a librarian who wants to see more books with a brown child on the cover, you have to buy the books that are available now, not because they are perfect, but because they are a step down the path you want to go. You might never get a seat in the committee that decides what goes to print and what doesn't, but your purchase is a vote they can hear loud and clear. 



Debbie's response to Parry, April 5 2014

A short response for now... 

The law you asked about is the Indian Arts and Crafts Act of 1990. I'll see if I can find out why it does not apply to literature. Why do you think literature was left out?

I'd like a bit more information about who you consulted with. Did you go before the tribal council of the Makah or Quinault? 

Nambe is in New Mexico, not Arizona. 

We're absolutely at odds, Rosanne, in the ways that we view this book. 

You find that I've overstepped my role because I point out the sorts of things that Native critics say, and have been saying, for a long time. My work is widely respected, by Native and non-Native people and organizations, too. John D. Berry, long-standing and former president of the American Indian Library Association, currently has my site as the featured page at the Native American/First Nations Facebook page, saying "it does not get any better than this blog." A few weeks ago, one of the most acclaimed Native writers, Simon Ortiz, invited me to give a lecture in 2016 at one of the most prestigious lecture series in the country

More later... 

Debbie's response to Parry (continued): April 6 2014 at 5:58 PM CDT:

You're right--future publishing decisions are made on past sales performance. 

Because I think that buying books by Native writers is important, I encourage people to buy Joseph Bruchac's Hidden Roots, Louise Erdrich's Birchbark House series, Eric Gansworth's If I Ever Get Out Of Here, Cynthia Leitich Smith's Jingle Dancer, Tim Tingle's How I Became A Ghost, or any of the books I recommend on AICL.  

I also encourage people to buy books by non-Native writers that have written excellent books. Debby Dahl Edwardson's My Name Is Not Easy is one example. Fatty Legs by Christy Jordan-Fenton and her Native mother-in-law, Margaret Pokiak-Fenton, is another. 

Of the Native writers I listed, Bruchac and Tingle have stepped outside their own nations and written books about Native people of other nations. They do so from a space that is thoroughly grounded in an understanding of Native people and history. When I read their books, sovereignty and treaty rights are at the core of what they write. They aren't influenced by people like "Chief Lelooska" and the don't say "civil rights" - they say Native rights, or treaty rights.  

The problem you and I are having, Rosanne, is that we approach this discussion from two very different positions, traditions, and histories. 

I was born at an Indian Hospital. I was raised on a reservation. The land my home is on is land that has always been Nambe land. I taught Native children for many years in Oklahoma and New Mexico. In graduate school, I was a key figure in the movement to get rid of "Chief Illiniwek" -- a mascot created by white fans who maintained that we (Native people) should feel honored by it. 

My identity and activism aside, I am steeped in Indigenous scholarship that looks critically at issues of representation and appropriation. I've taught and studied the works of our most esteemed Native scholars, including Vine Deloria Jr., Elizabeth Cook-Lynn, and Geary Hobson. I've read the literature written by the most powerful Native writers, including Simon J. Ortiz and Leslie Marmon Silko. 

Within children's literature about American Indians, I studied and learned from the work of Native scholars like Lisa Mitten, Naomi Caldwell, and Lotsee Patterson, and non-Native women like Beverly Slapin, Kathleen Horning, and Ginny Moore Kruse, who have studied this body of literature and offer tremendous insights as well. 

Right now, I'm reading An Indigenous Peoples' History of the United States, by Roxanne Dunbar-Ortiz, and Recognition, Sovereignty Struggles, and Indigenous Rights in the United States, edited by Amy E. Den Ouden and Jean M. O'Brien. 

I could go on.   

The point is, I read and evaluate children's literature from a specific perspective that is grounded in Native Sovereignty and Native Nation building. That means I want the very best for Native and non-Native readers. 

I think you do, too, but we disagree on what "the very best" looks like. 

I encourage you (and any writers who are reading this conversation) to go to Native Studies conferences. There are many. I gave a keynote at the Native American Literature Symposium a few years ago. You would likely gain a lot by going there, given that it is literature-specific. You could go to the conference of the Association of Tribal Archives, Libraries, and Museums. Or, the Native American and Indigenous Studies Association's conference. There are many options.

Parry's response to Debbie, April 7, 2014 at 11:29 AM CDT:

Well I do think we are at odds on the issue of who can write a book with Native American characters and who can speak on behalf of a tribe. But I also think we have many objectives in common including increasing the number and quality of books with Native American characters in them. If I had no respect for your work or your objectives, Debbie, it would be simple enough to ignore you. I am here and engaging in this conversation because I think that the issues you raise are important ones, well worth a serious author's consideration. 

For example, I think an author does well to consider the ownership and purpose of art used in a story. Before I wrote the chapter in which Pearl finds the petroglyphs I spoke to many neighbors and parents of my students. Those conversations tended to be more general about how old the petroglyphs were and why they were made. I wasn't a writer at the time, just a curious hiker and a teacher wanting to understand her students and their culture as fully as possible. Later when I was thinking about the book I spoke to people at the Makah Cultural Research Center and learned what I could about what the carvings meant to them historically and in the present. I also learned a truly heart-breaking story about a stretch of cliff face with hundreds of petroglyphs on it which was dynamited away without notice to the tribe in order to make a civil defense highway. Later still when I was vetting full drafts of the story I went back to the Quinault language and culture teacher and the Makah and Quinault historian who agreed to help me with the work. They gave me unpublished doctoral research and other materials held by the tribe which answered many of my questions and rounded out my understanding of many of the issues surrounding my story. I read everything publicly available in print on petroglyphs and spoke to some folks at the Burke Museum in Seattle about archeological dating of the Olympic coast petroglyphs. They also had a perspective to share on how those carvings are similar and different from other petroglyphs of North America. I went to a symposium on petroglyphs in Portland which drew academics, and artists both Native American and not. I learned about ancient tools and how the carvings were most likely made. I was particularly interested in the comments of Pat Courtney Gold, a Wasco fiber artist of considerable reputation. She has used motifs in her work from the Columbia River petroglyphs.

Pat Gold was encouraging people to think of the petroglyphs not so much as long dead artifacts to prove the existence of some facet of a tribe's ancient existence but rather as living works of art. The carvings are not signed, the original carvers are long gone and their original purpose is not in the current oral tradition, but what is knowable is the artistic choices of the carver: color, style, placement, subject and so forth. That can be known and studied just as you would study any other artist in the world. 

In all my research I found nothing to indicate that petroglyphs had a sacred or set aside purpose beyond being works of art. They quite naturally became way finding markers over time. But there was nothing to suggest that I'd be using them unfairly in the book. In all my conversations, nobody acted uncomfortable or evasive when discussing the petroglyphs. If they'd turned out to be in current or historical use as a sacred object or shrine, then I'd have left them out of the story as I have left alone other elements of Quinault and Makah culture which are not mine to share. My sources were not at all shy about telling me where I was searching for information that didn't belong in the public sphere. I kept the story element with the petroglyphs and had Pearl respond to them, as Pat Gold suggested, as works of art which inspire her to reflect on her life and her purpose and which are a source of encouragement and connection. I think Debbie is correct in encouraging authors to think carefully about the content of a story and research things thoroughly. But she is not correct in assuming that I haven't done my research or that I am incapable of understanding cultural and spiritual nuances. Her experience in working with the issues is impressive and her advocacy is vital. But all of her scholarship in the broader issues of Indigenous people does not make her an expert on the particular tribes in my book nor does it make her their designated spokesperson. 

When I was growing up my grandfather lived with me. He and I spoke German together and he had much to teach me about his childhood in Berlin. When I moved to Bavaria shortly after his death I couldn't understand a word my neighbors said at first. Their accent, turn of phrase, and vocabulary was completely different from what I'd learned at home and at school from my Berlin born and educated German teachers. The food and many of the social customs were equally foreign. It would have been easy to say, they aren't speaking "real German" and converse only in English which they were all capable of and willing to do. But I'm glad I did the work of listening and learning the Swiss and Italian-influenced vocabulary that infuses Bavarian German. I had a richer and more interesting time there than I would have otherwise. I'm not surprised that elements of Written in Stone didn't ring true to Debbie. Her tribe belongs to a different ecosystem, and a different language group. Being a white person doesn't make me an authority on all white people. When I wrote a Soviet soldier character from Estonia in an earlier book I did just a thorough a job of researching his cultural, political, spiritual, and historical background. Even when I am writing well within my own culture I have other people vet the details because my perspective on my own culture is a limited one. 

That I've made up a petroglyph in the story does not harm or diminish petroglyphs currently in existence. Nor does it prevent a Quinault or Makah writer for publishing their own books. It's my hope that many of them consider writing and that many more stories set in this region are published. Among the excellent recommendations Debbie made there is not one person writing from the perspective of the coastal tribes of the Pacific Northwest. I'd like to see that change. If my book and this conversation about it can be a vehicle for that change then it's effort well spent.

Debbie's response to Parry, April 7, 2014

I did not say you can't write a book with Native characters, so we're definitely not at odds on that. Anyone can do that. Many have. Some do it well, others don't. 

In my review, I pointed you to an article describing protocols for doing research on their reservation. Here's what the article, written by the director of the Makah Culture and Research Center says:
The Makah Tribal Council has authorized the MCRC Board of Trustees to screen and oversee the non-Makah research that takes place on the reservation. Prior to any fieldwork on the Makah Reservation, researchers are required to submit a packet to the MCRC Board of Trustees which includes a resume and a detailed account of the nature and objectives of the proposed research. After reviewing proposal materials, the MCRC can (and has) refuse research on the ground that the subject is culturally inappropriate. The board or staff may decide to assist in retooling the research design (for example, such that it includes the participation of Elders or alters the approach to Elders), or they may choose to advise or direct researchers toward rich resources of which they are unaware. The MCRC staff is also responsible for advising researchers that they must follow the MCRC protocol for gathering oral histories.

Approval from the Makah Board dictates that a final copy of the research needs to be deposited at MCRC and a report made before the Makah Tribal Council. In this way MCRC acts as a repository for research that takes place on the reservation, ensuring community accessibility. In part, this ensures against what a former board member described to Erikson as "the helicopter effect." He asked, "Do you know what the 'helicopter effect' is?" You, and the information you gather, get into the helicopter and fly away. That's it." 

Did you do that? 

When I objected to your creation of petroglyphs that you labeled as Makah petroglyphs, I did not say anything about them being sacred. As you said above, your sources told you petroglyphs aren't sacred. Your research said as much, too. You tell us that Makah petroglyphs are art that "has no purpose beyond being works of art" and that later, they were used as wayfinders. 

For a lot of tribal nations, petroglyphs do have sacred qualities and access to them is restricted. They aren't talked about because experience shows that collectors will try to take them. This was the case last year in California. 

I did an Internet search using "Makah petroglyphs" and "sacred" and got several hits about the Wedding Rocks. The same language is used across the sites: "Respect these historic and sacred artifacts." 

Based on your research, however, that is an incorrect statement. I'd like to see your source. 

You've indicated you have a strong relationship with Makah people and you want to see more books about them. I do, too. You're published by a major publishing house and you give writing workshops. Are you currently mentoring any Makah writers? Or Quinault writers? Or introducing them to your editors?

Comment from Parry, April 8, 2014 at 12:51 PM CDT:

I have a final thought here on the issue Debbie raised about the work of Lelooska. The issues surrounding what it means to be adopted into a tribe are complex and vary a lot among Indian nations, but this topic seemed to hit a nerve so I didn't want to leave her concerns unanswered. To be clear, Lelooska is not in the story and is mentioned briefly in the author's note. Lelooska himself died in the late 1990s and his work is carried on by the Lelooska Foundation. 

I'm well aware, as Debbie has mentioned, that Lelooska was adopted into one of the bands of the Kwakwaka'wakw (also known as the Kwakiutl) tribe of British Columbia. Not everyone enjoys his art and not everyone likes the living history programs that he has provided in Washington for almost 40 years. I'm not interested in changing Debbie's mind on this point. But here is why I disagree with her. 

The right to tell a traditional story with its accompanying song, dance, and regalia is conferred in a potlatch. Lelooska's right to share the stories he does was given to him by Chief James Aul Sewide and witnessed and agreed to by all tribal members and neighbors present at the potlatch. If they did not wish for Don Smith to become Chief Lelooska they could have chosen not to come to the potlatch. That they did so, is all the evidence I need to determine if he is doing this work fairly and in keeping with the traditions of the Kwakwaka'wakw. The tribe had the opportunity to deny the Lelooska Foundation the right to perform their living history programs after Lelooska died. But they came to the potlatch for his brother Tsungani and again conferred on him the ownership of the stories his family continues to present to the public. 


I received an email just last week from the head of the planning team who was hired by the Quinault to relocate the village of Taholah out of the tsunami inundation zone. My book was recommended to him by somebody from the tribe as a vehicle for understanding them better. He’s aware of the weight of this project, to move a village site more than a thousand years old. He and his team want to make sure that what they design really serves the tribe well. Simply sticking in some local art at the end of the process isn’t what they want. They want to really think through with the community what their village needs in order to be a home to them. And so the book is a vehicle for thinking and talking about what the land and ocean and river and lake means to the community. Not because it’s a perfect representation of Quinault and Makah culture, they already have non-fiction materials aplenty for that purpose. It does what fiction does best, it invites reflection and conversation.


The bottom line for me is that each tribe gets to decide for themselves what is an acceptable representation of their culture. One of the reasons I chose the Quinault and Makah rather than one of the many smaller tribes in the area, is that they are well-accustomed to speaking up for themselves at a national and international level. If something about my book bothers them, I'm confident they will say so publicly. So far they've had no criticism of the book. The community in Taholah has invited me to come and celebrate it with them later this spring. The curator of their historical collection recommends the book to people who are interested in learning more about that tribe. That is all the endorsement I need.



Debbie's response to Parry: April 10

Ah... so you've circled back to Lelooska/Don Smith. 

He is not in the story, but he had enough of an impact on you that you recommend his books and his performances in the 'for young readers' portion of your book. You seem unable to step away from what he/his family says on its website. You're only parroting what you read there. Did you cross check that information as part of your research process?  

I read the website, too. Based on my study and experience, it raised several red flags that were easily affirmed in several places. One is Chris Friday's biography, Lelooska: The Life of a Northwest Coast Artist.  As a child, Friday was a friend of the family, and therefore felt an affinity and conflict in writing about Don Smith's identity. Did you read that biography? Or anything else about Lelooska/Smith other than what the website says? If yes, what did you read? 

The Makah website and the Quinault website do not link to Lelooska. The Makah museum does not sell his books. 

You are on thin ice when you put forward words of praise for him. 

What curator recommends your book? Of what institution? Can you give me a name? Where will you be for this celebration? 


Parry's response to Debbie: Monday, April 21 at 4:01 PM CDT:

The role of an author's note is to help readers round out the material in the book with more information. To be of use the information must be both as accurate as possible and widely accessible. In my research, I used some unpublished materials from the tribes that were specific to their cultures. Much as I'd like to share those documents, since the stories are more accurate to the Quinault and Makah cultures, but those documents aren't accessible to the public. The Lelooska stories, on the other hand, are in the vein of this story telling and illustration tradition and can be found in many libraries and on line. When a better resource becomes available, I'll amend the author’s note. As I mentioned before, if you, Debbie, or any of your readers are aware of a better resource for traditional stories from any of the tribes of the Pacific Northwest, please let me know.

When describing the regalia and dance in the book I worked from Quinault and Makah performances I've seen while living in Taholah and visiting Neah Bay. If these tribes had their own living history programs then of course I'd send readers there. But they don't. The living history programs by the Lelooska Foundation are the closest example of song, story, and dance in the region. Living history is not the same as real life practice. I have confidence that just as people understand the difference with a place like Colonial Williamsburg, so my readers will see the performances of the Lelooska Foundation for what they are. For most people it's the only way they'd ever be able to see this type of dance in performance. 

But here's what I'm listening for and not hearing in our conversation about the Lelooska Foundation. (It's entirely possible this is due to thick-headedness on my part.) I'm not hearing that his claim of adoption is false or that a specific element of his performances is inauthentic or that the art is created under false pretenses. If legal action has been taken against them Under the Indian Arts and Crafts Act of 1990 or if there was a request from the Kwakwaka'wakw for him to cease and desist from his performances, then I'd gladly withdraw any mention of him from the authors note. 

Here's what I have seen of the work of the Lelooska Foundation that makes me think they are a legitimate source of information. I've seen the show 5 times over the last 40 years, They have been performing essentially the same small group of stories they have always performed. If they were adding new stories every year or "jazzing up" the performance to make it more commercial, I'd be concerned. If they were claiming to be born into the tribe rather than adopted, I'd be concerned too. If they represented the performances as an actual potlatch rather than a living history exhibit or if they were diverging from the traditional form line style of art, I'd not recommend them. 

I do know that there are several different bands of the Kwakwaka'wakw (I think 15 altogether) and at least one of those bands doesn't like the notion of traditional dances being used as living history exhibits. So that is of some concern. But disputes within a tribe are not uncommon. Even a single Indian nation will have a diverging views among its members. But perhaps there is more to that argument than I know. If the nation as a whole has requested the Lelooska Foundation to stop I'd love to hear about it. These performances have been going on for more than 40 years. The Indian Arts and Crafts Act has been in place for the last 24 years. In all that time I've never heard of the Kwakwaka'wakw taking either an internal to the tribe method or an external legal method to stop the Lelooska Foundation. I find that persuasive, although I'm still willing to be persuaded otherwise if you have information I haven't considered.