Tuesday, June 9, 2009

Blog Discourse Essay

A few years ago I kept a blog but got out of the habit once I started college. When we set up our blogs at the beginning of this course I was actually excited to start another one, albeit a bit wary to be writing more for academic purposes than therapeutic rambling. In retrospect, the blog turned out to be helpful and made typically mundane assignments more interesting.


Although I knew that anyone could stumble upon my blog and read what I had written, I tended to think of our class as my only audience. Since we were all answering the same prompts and reflecting on the same readings, I felt that what I wrote would predominately be read by my classmates and not random Internet wanderers. Furthermore, if someone not in our class happened to come across my blog I doubted they would find what I was writing interesting or understand the context in which it was written so I wrote specifically for the audience of our small class. Fortunately, catering to such an audience helped keep the tone and quality of my writing at an appropriate level. Knowing that my peers and professor would be reading this helped me keep perspective when I responded to blog prompts so that it (hopefully) never sounded too casual or too pretentious.


As the quarter progressed, I feel that my writing, as well as the degree of seriousness with which I responded to prompts, improved. In the beginning, especially with the early questions about Ceremony, I opted to rattle off answers for the sake of having a blog post rather than truly thinking about the question. My responses to the questions in the first Ceremony blog (about Tayo’s guilt over the drought and Auntie’s attitude) seem more like a regurgitation of the text than a thoughtful response. Compared with my later blogs about Ceremony, I tended to avoid applying my own insights or feelings about the text to my answers. Once I became more comfortable with the process of writing in the blog (as well as the book itself) my responses became more of a balance of answering and applying.

I feel that my strongest posts were the Coulombe summary and the response to The Lone Ranger and Tonto Fistfight in Heaven. When I wrote these posts, I felt engaged in a way that I hadn’t when writing previous entries. These texts really interested me and I was excited to be able to offer my own take on the prompts as well as create a summary for Coulombe’s essay. My second blog response to readings in Ceremony were not as bland as my first; however, I did not feel it was my best post because I lacked the motivation that propelled me through the Coulombe/TLRATFIH prompts. While Ceremony interested me, I felt more of an emotional response to Alexie’s work which made my writings for those topics stronger and clearer.


The comments I received on my posts were an interesting aspect of the blog experience. While I felt it was a great avenue for the class to get fresh perspectives on their writing and provide constructive criticism, I feel that we all (including myself) sugar-coated our comments a little too much to provide any truly helpful feedback. If there was any constructive criticism in the comments, it was weak at best and sandwiched between “Great job!” and “Great work!” – which wasn’t particularly helpful seeing as how there is always room for improvement. However, I feel that the simple act of commenting contributed to the learning process in that feedback of any kind can prompt someone to continue writing. Be it good or bad, I think the curiosity we all had to read each others work and see what others thought of our own motivated us to keep up with the blog and put effort into it (or at least it did for me). There were a few times when I received a comment telling me I could have developed an idea further, or that my answer was not one they had thought of before. These observations did stay in my mind the next time I wrote in the blog which helped steer me in the right direction.


Overall, keeping this blog throughout the duration of the class was a fun take on what could have been dull or routine assignments. Because I had a blog prompt waiting to be written after each reading, I felt compelled to really understand what I was reading and (eventually) tie that understanding in with my own thoughts and opinions. As such, the blog did help my writing in that it yanked me out of a strictly academic environment and encouraged me to blend together personal opinion and critical thinking.

Tuesday, May 26, 2009

Wednesday, May 20, 2009

Group Web Project

Out of the possible ideas for the web project, I would be most interested in options E (or A, but mostly E). I would really like to delve deeper into several of Alexie's stories and interpret his various literary methods, especially his use of humor. I think that by breaking down Alexie's style and interpreting the meanings behind the stories, my group and I (as well as any readers of Alexie's work) will be able to arrive at a richer understanding and appreciation of the text. This interpretation of his stories could also include revealing Alexie's attitude towards humor in real life (via interviews or speeches).

Sadly, I'm pretty unskilled when it comes to web design ... but I'd be more than willing to contribute creatively and learn as much I can!

Wednesday, May 13, 2009

Summary Application (TLRATFIH)

Summary Application (TLRATFIH):

In his essay, Coulombe examines the purpose and use of humor in Sherman Alexie's work as well as the criticism it receives. In doing so, Coulombe confronts the assertions of Alexie's critics who claim his bold use of humor perpetuates the notion of Indians as pitiable drunks and prevents white readers from seeing beyond these predisposed cultural typecasts. He argues that Alexie's multifaceted brand of humor, found in most of his works but most notably in The Lone Ranger and Tonto Fistfight in Heaven, is actually a critical element of the social and moral landscape of Alexie's writing, which uses humor as a means of both unification and revelation. To support this argument, Coulombe discusses examples of Alexie's effective use of humor in several of his short stories. By using humor as a tool to repair, protect, expose, and create, Coulombe asserts that Alexie unflinchingly bridges the gap between disconnection and unity. Alexie uses this carefully-crafted humorous platform to dispel generalized assumptions and encourage readers to embrace a shared sense of humanity. By periodically referring back to the complaints of Alexie's critics, Coulombe challenges their collective assumption that Alexie presents Indians as purposeless stereotypes that use sardonic humor to further pigeonhole themselves. He contends that by employing humor, however disconcerting or impractical it may seem, Alexie persuades both white and Indian readers to re-evaluate their preconceived social and moral notions in order to reach a new level of clarity, connection, and empathy.


According to Coulombe, the act of storytelling and its ability to foster “self-knowledge and social awareness” is readily apparent in Alexie’s emotionally complex -- and not easily unraveled – stories (95). He claims that “by creating situations that resist formulaic responses, Alexie fits into a longstanding tradition of Indian storytelling” (97). This method of storytelling closely links Alexie with “Trickster” and Thomas Builds-the-Fire, who both expose distorted realities and incite listeners to “rethink the circumstances” that create it (Coulombe 97). The “painful and wrenching [realizations]” that Alexie conjures in his stories prompt his readers to “correct” their “complacency and resistance” to a culture that is largely preserved in the wisdom of storytelling. By crafting stories with deeply rooted sadness and indistinct resolutions, Alexie forces “readers to re-evaluate accepted ways of thinking” so that there might be “the potential for increased understanding” (Coulombe 97-98).

This notion of storytelling as crucial to shedding light on the issues that plague Indians is represented in Alexie’s story “A Train is an Order of Occurrence Designed to Lead to Some Result.” The central character, Samuel Builds-the-Fire (grandfather to Thomas) has “the gift of storytelling” (Alexie 132). Sure that his stories were capable of teaching the people around him how to turn their world “into something better,” Samuel spread his wisdom until the day came when “all the younger people on the reservation had no time for stories” (Alexie 134-135). After working in a motel and witnessing first-hand the tragic circumstances that befall Indians, “the stories waiting to be told left [Samuel] and never returned” (Alexie 137). Samuel retreats into a bar after being let go from the job that exposed him to so many horrors, despite having watched the people around him relinquish their dreams for the anesthetic of alcohol. With one drink, Samuel “knew all about how it begins; he knew he wanted to live this way now” (Alexie 134). Here, Alexie underscores the seemingly inescapable forces of “fear and failure” that can invade even the most spiritually in-tune Indian in the guise of drunken clarity, rendering them numb. Through this sad yet caustic account of the fall of a former storyteller, Alexie exposes the raw, inevitable conflict that paralyzes the modern Indian: “At the halfway point of any drunken night, there is a moment when an Indian realizes he cannot turn back toward tradition and that he has no map to guide him toward the future” (Alexie 134). The “world [Alexie] depicts” in this story, while it offers no simple resolution or answer, “provides an emotional and intellectual meeting ground for his readers to reconsider reductive stereotypes” (Coulombe 96-97). Rather than present Samuel Builds-the-Fire as merely a one-dimensional drunken typecast, Alexie uses elements of storytelling and humor to “provoke [his] readers to rethink the circumstances that allow the sad and sardonic humor” (Coulombe 97). By crafting an empathetic place in which readers of all backgrounds can dissect layers of meaning, Alexie “adds a complex new dynamic to the communal territory allowed by stories” (Coulombe 98). This narrative strategy allows Alexie to transcend the “purely logical … or traditional efforts to promote understanding” and instead engage his readers through a shared sense of humanity that ultimately “necessitates analysis, clarification, and … identification” (Coulombe 96).



WORKS CITED:

Alexie, Sherman. The Lone Ranger and Tonto Fistfight in Heaven.
New York: Grove Press, 2005.

Coulombe, Joseph. “The Approximate Size of His Favorite Humor: Sherman Alexie’s Comic Connections and Disconnections in The Lone Ranger and Tonto Fistfight in HeavenAmerican Indian Quarterly 26 (winter 2002) : p. 94-115. Project Muse. Ohio University Lib. Athens, OH.

Monday, May 11, 2009

Coulombe Essay Summary

In his essay, Coulombe examines the purpose and use of humor in Sherman Alexie's work as well as the criticism it receives. In doing so, Coulombe confronts the assertions of Alexie's critics who claim his bold use of humor perpetuates the notion of Indians as pitiable drunks and prevents white readers from seeing beyond these predisposed cultural typecasts. He argues that Alexie's multifaceted brand of humor, found in most of his works but most notably in The Lone Ranger and Tonto Fistfight in Heaven, is actually a critical element of the social and moral landscape of Alexie's writing, which uses humor as a means of both unification and revelation. To support this argument, Coulombe discusses examples of Alexie's effective use of humor in several of his short stories. By using humor as a tool to repair, protect, expose, and create, Coulombe asserts that Alexie unflinchingly bridges the gap between disconnection and unity. Alexie uses this carefully-crafted humorous platform to dispel generalized assumptions and encourage readers to embrace a shared sense of humanity. By periodically referring back to the complaints of Alexie's critics, Coulombe challenges their collective assumption that Alexie presents Indians as purposeless stereotypes that use sardonic humor to further pigeonhole themselves. He contends that by employing humor, however disconcerting or impractical it may seem, Alexie persuades both white and Indian readers to re-evaluate their preconceived social and moral notions in order to reach a new level of clarity, connection, and empathy.

Monday, May 4, 2009

TLRATFIH response

1). Frank Ross asked Alexie about the political nature of his writing, quoting him as saying he does not like to beat readers over the head with it. Alexie replied: “I like to make them laugh first, then beat them over the head . . . when they are defenseless.” Describe some examples from the stories that demonstrate this tactic. Choose one example to focus on and explain how the humor and political point work together as in the above quote.

Humor - albeit it mostly dark - is evident throughout most of Alexie's stories in TLRATFIH. Whether indulging in mind-altering drugs in search of spiritual visions or tossing a drunk Indian onto a roller coaster, Alexie wraps even his darkest subject matters into an accessible package through the use of humorous retelling. In "Because My Father Always Said He Was the Only Indian who Saw Jimi Hendrix Play 'The Star-Spangled Banner' At Woodstock," the character of Victor describes his father's unwavering obsession with Jimi Hendrix and the circumstances that lead him to see his hero playing at Woodstock. In this story, Alexie caustically relates his father's involvement in a anti-war demonstration that gleaned a Pulitzer Prize winning photograph and jail-time. The irony of the photograph, which captured the use of violence to negate violence, is as humorous as it is pointed. The subsequent captions that accompanied this visual dichotomy teemed with racist puns: "ONE WARRIOR AGAINST WAR" and "PEACEFUL GATHERING TURNS INTO NATIVE UPRISING." Even his father's experience in jail was defined by killings that were labeled only by the victim's skin color. This dark portrait of race is described in the story against a backdrop of odd humor; in fact, the entire story that unfolds surrounding Victor's father's fixation with Jimi Hendrix is heavy with sadness but carried lightly by its sardonic delivery. His parent's volatile relationship and his father's motorcycle injury and eventual departure are all tinged with a knowing sense of humor, however dark it may be. By relating the story in a sardonic tone, Alexie is able to subtly tap into his reader's emotions that are left wide open in the presence of humor. Because he refrains from an overly depressing and pitying tone, Alexie creates a harmony between the intensity of the story and it's casual delivery so that readers are more inclined to receive the emotional message that lies within.



2). On whiteness, Indian identity and colonialism, Alexie says, “What is colonialism but the breeding out of existence of the colonized? The most dangerous thing for Indians, then, now and forever is that we love our colonizers. And we do.” He goes on to say, and I paraphrase, that Indian identity now is mostly a matter of cultural difference; that culture is received knowledge, because the authentic practitioners are gone. The culture is all adopted culture, not innate. Colonization is complete. Think about how what he is discussing plays out in his stories. Choose one (a different one than for the first question) and discuss how a story represents the characters' relationship to the tribe's past and to the colonizing culture.

In "This is What it Means to Say Phoenix, Arizona" Alexie delves deeper into the character of Thomas Builds-the-fire and his relationship with Victor. Thomas is an outcast in the reservation; his penchant for "storytelling" and his spiritual oddities make him and easy target for bullying and disregard. However, in a community that is fraught with alcoholism, fear, and poverty, Thomas seems to be one of the few Indians who remains in touch with the spirituality that defines Indian culture. He receives visions in dreams and relates stories about the people around him that are both omniscient and revealing. However, Victor is described as feeling "embarrassed" to be around Thomas and has a history of treating him as badly as most everyone else on the reservation. Victor laments, "Whatever happened to the tribal ties, the sense of community? The only real thing he shared with anybody was a bottle and broken dreams." In the past, Indian communities shared timeless stories and knowledge that fostered a cultural bond. This common sense of identity and heritage transcended the boundaries of time, but as colonization took hold in the Indian world it slowly faded into the realm of irrelevance and shame. Thomas Builds-the-Fire, however, remains connected to the mystic properties of storytelling and nature despite the scorn he receives from his fellow Indians, who have long-since succumbed to the dynamic force of colonization.

Wednesday, April 22, 2009

Summary Application

Summary/Application (Ceremony):

In her article, Bird confronts the issue of assimilation that has entangled itself in Indian culture. In doing so, Bird is promoting the undoing of the colonization of the native people which has led them to speak passively and adopt the stereotypes to which they are perpetually assigned. As someone who was raised in an Indian family but did not actually speak the native language, Bird highlights the significance of language as a tool that can be used both to denigrate and liberate a culture. She asserts that Ceremony achieves the status of “critical fiction,” defined by bell hooks as a work that urges readers to stretch beyond cultural boundaries through the means of language and imagination. By employing a fragmented story construction, interweaving myth and reality in Tayo’s world, and relating Ceremony from a native’s perspective, Bird asserts that Silko boldly contests the scope of colonization. Silko uses these elements of Ceremony to bolster the values and traditions of Indian culture while also underscoring the importance of understanding and abandoning the domineering effects of colonization. By referencing the central conflict in Ceremony¸ in which the assimilation and shame of an individual affects the welfare of the entire community, Bird highlights the crucial aspect of Tayo’s healing ceremony: identifying the source of oppression in order to move toward a place of empowerment and connection to one’s culture. This very issue is one that Bird herself addresses when she teaches Ceremony in an attempt to discourage her students from denying their identity through submissive language. Bird contends that by challenging the colonized patterns of thought, readers are able to imagine (and perhaps create) a future in which the inherent values of Indian culture will no longer be ostracized.


According to Bird, colonization is readily apparent in the Indian people’s acceptance of themselves as “vanishing” (1). She claims that “the image of [themselves] as ‘dying’ pervades not only the ways [they] have been taught to view [themselves] as Othered and vanishing from the outside in, but can also be viewed as the successful colonization of [their] minds” (1). This submission to the stereotypes and ideals of mainstream culture creates a perpetual image of the Indian people as inferior and rapidly fading from significance. By internalizing these “typifications,” Indians generate within themselves a self-hatred that prevents them from truly owning their cultural identity (Bird 5). This notion of self-destructive denial and rejection of one’s culture is represented in the character of Helen Jean in Ceremony. Helen Jean appears briefly in the novel as a drinking buddy of sorts for Harley and Leroy. Having left the Towac reservation in search of a better life and money to send home to her family, Helen Jean quickly falls prey to the dynamic force of assimilation. She alters her physical appearance to distance herself from the female Indians that she views with disdain: “She didn’t like the looks of the Indian women she saw in Gallup … their hair was dirty and straight. They’d shaved off their eyebrows, [but] they didn’t bother to pencil them anymore” (Silko 154). Contrastingly, Helen Jean hides behind her altered appearance, taking care to touch up her red lipstick, penciled-in eyebrows, and permanently curled hair. Her attitude towards the Indians in general is similarly scornful. When Harley boasts about “stealing” Leroy’s new pick-up truck from the white man, Helen Jean “[doesn’t] smile” and merely says: “Gypped you again! This thing isn’t even worth a half acre!” Here, Silko crafts Helen Jean to feel shame towards the supposed ignorance and foolishness of the Indian people, just as Tayo’s mother did. After seeing the things the “old Utes” claimed did not exist – such as elevators, neon signs, and juke boxes – Helen Jean feels “embarrassed for the old people at home” (Silko 151). She even allows herself to believe a version of the “big lie” that paints the White man as upstanding and blameless: “[The Indian war vets] had ribbons and medals … if the U.S. Government decorated them, they must be okay” (Silko 151). Ultimately, Helen Jean “[perpetuates the] notions of inferiority and domination” (Bird 6) by living in poverty, drinking and sleeping with men for money, and regarding her fellow Indians with pity and shame: “She didn’t need to be wasting her time there, in the middle of nowhere … If she hung around any longer, [that’s how she’d end up]. Like the rest of the Indians” (Silko 154).


Bird proposes in her article that Silko’s use of “mythic edge” is a narrative strategy which propels Ceremony to the ranks of critical fiction (Bird 3). Critical fiction, as defined by bell hooks, invokes the imagination of the reader in order to stretch beyond cultural boundaries. By employing a “textual terrain with the capacity of encompassing time and space in a simultaneous present, past, and future,” Silko creates a “human-to-human and human-to-land dynamic” that aids the reader in “[viewing] reality through the perceptions of the native Other” (Bird 3). This “mythic mirror” underscores the connection between mythic and realist worlds that is so significant in Indian culture and represents the “connectedness of all things, how each depends on something else” (Bird 3). This close relationship between reality and myth is exemplified in the characters of Ts’eh and the hunter. Both Ts’eh and the hunter act as guides for Tayo as he works to complete his healing ceremony. Ts’eh and the hunter are closely tied to spiritual acts; Ts’eh is not only a crucial aspect of Tayo’s ceremony, but she also possesses omniscient and magical qualities. After seeing the mountain lion, Tayo “sprinkled pinches of yellow pollen into the four footprints” and refers to the mountain lion as “the hunter’s helper” (Silko 182). Not long after doing so, Tayo encounters a hunter who leads him back to Ts’eh and Josiah’s cattle. There are various other mythical references throughout Ceremony, such as the parallel story lines about the hummingbird and the gambler, but by crafting such a close interaction between Tayo and these mythical characters, Silko invites readers to experience “the interconnectedness of all things – of people to land, of stories to people, of people to people” (Bird 4). This narrative strategy allows Ceremony to transcend typical Western notions of reality and thereby reject the “colonist endoctrination,” which according to Bird, is “one of the first steps towards … decolonization” (6).


WORKS CITED:

1. Bird, Gloria. “Towards a Decolonization of the Mind and Text 1: Leslie Marmon Silko's ‘Ceremony’” Wicazo Sa Review, 9, 2 (Autumn, 1993) : 1-8.

2. Silko, Leslie Marmon. Ceremony. New York:
Penguin Books, 1977.

Monday, April 20, 2009

Gloria Bird summary

Bird, Gloria. "Towards a Decolonization of the Mind and Text 1: Leslie Marmon Silko's 'Ceremony'" Wicazo Sa Review 9 (1993): 1-8.


In her article, Bird utilizes the issues of language and “hegemonic discourse” found in Leslie Marmon Silko’s Ceremony in order to promote the undoing of the colonization of the native people which has lead them to speak passively and adopt the stereotypes that are perpetually assigned to them. As someone who was raised in an Indian family but did not actually speak the native language, Bird highlights the significance of language as a tool that can be used both to denigrate and liberate a culture. She asserts that in Silko’s fragmented construction of Ceremony and it’s assertive use of textual landscape, the scope of decolonization is confronted and contested. By referencing the central conflict in Ceremony¸ in which the assimilation and shame of an individual simultaneously affects the welfare of the entire community, Bird explains the importance of recognizing the source of oppression that comes forth in discourse in order to move toward a place of empowerment and pride.

Monday, April 13, 2009

Ceremony (p.58-142)

1). P. 62-63 covers the theme of Christianity as a coercive force of assimilation. By what means does this occur and what feelings does it evoke?

The values and beliefs of Christianity permeated the "old sensitivity" of the Indian people which had been passed down over thousands of years and had created a shared conciousness amongst generations. But the infiltration of Christianity worked against this unity by enforcing an individualistic existance: "...it tried to crush the single clan name, encouraging each person to stand alone, because Jesus Christ would save only the individual soul; Jesus Christ was not like the Mother who loved and cared for them as her children, as her family" (63). The world as the Indians knew it suddenly shared an identity with white culture. This assimilation was blatantly enforced in the school system; there was a heavy sense of shame associated with the "deplorable ways of the Indian people" (63). This created a tension between Indian culture and the new world of the white people that tried to establish itself as the dominant/correct way of life.



2). We are also introduced to Josiah’s Mexican lover, the Flamenco dancer, Night Swan. What do we find out about her? What significance attaches to her character? What’s with all the blue? How does what she tells Tayo connect with elements that come up in other parts of the novel?


Night Swan is a Mexican woman of mixed descent and a retired Flamenco dancer with whom Josiah has an affair. In her youth she would dance and seduce men; now, she is a grandmother who ended up Cubero after the small town she lived in fell victim to a severe drought. She is a mysterious topic of interest in her community and ignites a blaze of gossip amongst the women who are threatened by her commanding sexuality. When Tayo delivers Josiah's message to Night Swan, the color blue is heavily described in both setting and in her clothing. This could potentially reflect the rain that Tayo has prayed for and the ceremonious way the color blue has been mentioned earlier in the book (i.e., the turqoise rings placed on the antlers of the hunted deer). When she explains to Tayo that it is people's fear of change that leads them to blame "the ones who look different" it harkens to the struggle with race that is prominent throughout the story, as well as the concept of change. The change that the people so greatly fear seems to be pointing to the changes that have lead to the drought and difficulties of Tayo's community. When she tells him that he will soon recognize and understand what is happening, it implies that even more change (and perhaps a journey) are on Tayo's horizon.




3). We get poetic installments of the Hummingbird tale on p. 42-45, 49-50, 65-66, 76, 97, 104-105, 140 (to this point) How might you relate this story to Tayo’s?


The most obvious correlation between the Hummingbird tale and Tayo's story is the absence of rain. In both stories, the drought is causing unrest and desperation; in Tayo's case, he feels that he prayed the rain away during his time in the war and in the Hummingbird tale, the "magic" that enraptures the community causes Nau'ts'ity'i to take away their rain/sustenance. Beyond this similarity, both stories are setting up a journey of sorts. The hummingbird and the fly must continually travel between worlds with gifts in order to convince mother to grant them rain and food. In this same vein, Tayo begins on a journey to heal himself and the community, as well as bring back the rain.

Wednesday, April 8, 2009

Ceremony

1). Explain why Tayo blames himself for the six year drought.

After he returns home, Tayo learns that "the wind had blown since late february and it did not stop after April"; in the six years he has been gone, there has been a persistent drought that has yellowed the grass and dried up the earth. During his time in the war, Tayo and the rest of the soldiers had experienced rain that "had no beginning or end." The thick, humid jungle rain clouded the soldier's lungs and minds, seeped into their wounds, and created treacherous mud and trenches. Desperate for the rain to end so that his cousin Rocky's injury could heal, Tayo prayed "for dry air, dry as a hundred years squeezed out of yellow sand." After the blanket carrying wounded Rocky slipped from his and the Corporal's hands into the muddy flood, he began to damn the rain and pray against it by chanting a story about Corn Woman and Reed Woman. When he returns to his drought-stricken home, he believes he is responsible for praying the rain away and struggles with guilt, especially after his encounter with Ku'oosh: "The old man only made him certain of something he had feared all along ... it took only one person to tear away the delicate strands of the web."



2). Describe, as best as you can, Auntie’s attitudes about Tayo, mixed blood, and religion.

Auntie seems to adhere more to the standards of other people rather than the standards of her family. She had initially become Tayo's caretaker in order to atone for her sister's scandalous affair with a white man and to invite sympathy and respect from her peers by taking on the burden of raising her illegitimate, mixed-race nephew. She is extremely judgemental when it comes to her people having relationships with other races and ironically adheres to Native American social codes and Christian martyrdom. Rather than assume responsibility for Tayo because she loved him or out of familial ties, she instead dutifully cares for Tayo so that she can appear to be a true Christian woman. After he returns from the war, Tayo knows as well as Auntie does that she will take care of him now solely because "she needed a new struggle, another opportunity to show those who might gossip that she had still another unfortunate burden." She revels in in the satisfaction of being right and is constantly concerned with how the deeds of her family will affect how the community sees and treats them. By using the burden of Tayo and Rocky's death to her advantage with the people of the community, she attempts to cast herself as a martyr ("[measuring] life by counting the crosses") in a narrow-minded Christian sense.

Wednesday, April 1, 2009

She Had Some Horses

She Had Some Horses
by Joy Harjo

She had some horses.

She had horses who were bodies of sand.
She had horses who were maps drawn of blood.
She had horses who were skins of ocean water.
She had horses who were the blue air of sky.
She had horses who were fur and teeth.
She had horses who were clay and would break.
She had horses who were splintered red cliff.

She had some horses.

She had horses with eyes of trains.
She had horses with full, brown thighs.
She had horses who laughed too much.
She had horses who threw rocks at glass houses.
She had horses who licked razor blades.

She had some horses.

She had horses who danced in their mothers' arms.
She had horses who thought they were the sun and their
bodies shone and burned like stars.
She had horses who waltzed nightly on the moon.
She had horses who were much too shy, and kept quiet
in stalls of their own making.

She had some horses.

She had horses who liked Creek Stomp Dance songs.
She had horses who cried in their beer.
She had horses who spit at male queens who made
them afraid of themselves.
She had horses who said they weren't afraid.
She had horses who lied.
She had horses who told the truth, who were stripped
bare of their tongues.

She had some horses.

She had horses who called themselves, "horse".
She had horses who called themselves, "spirit", and kept
their voices secret and to themselves.
She had horses who had no names.
She had horses who had books of names.

She had some horses.

She had horses who whispered in the dark, who were afraid to speak.
She had horses who screamed out of fear of the silence, who
carried knives to protect themselves from ghosts.
She had horses who waited for destruction.
She had horses who waited for resurrection.

She had some horses.

She had horses who got down on their knees for any saviour.
She had horses who thought their high price had saved them.
She had horses who tried to save her, who climbed in her
bed at night and prayed as they raped her.

She had some horses.

She had some horses she loved.
She had some horses she hated.

These were the same horses.



Harjo's poem is a gorgeously depicted portrait of a life that has left a woman with an insurmountable pile of contradictory emotions and experiences. With both literal and metaphoric descriptions, Harjo uses the "horses" within the female speaker to relate these personal nuances. These feelings seem to revolve around a common struggle between fragility and strength, "destruction" and "resurrection," truth and lies, and love and hate.

The female speaker's persona is subtly evident throughout the poem but is broadly revealed in the lines that claim "She had horses who tried to save her, who climbed in her / bed at night and prayed as they raped her." However, while the voice of the poem is distinctly feminine, the horses she describes are not assigned to a specific gender. They seem to be spiritual relics of the speaker's soul and experiences and take on various meanings that are not necessarily male or female. They range from southwestern images, to liars, to shy introverts: "She had horses who were the blue air of sky," "She had horses who lied," "She had horses who were much too shy and kept quiet / in stalls of their own making." In this sense, the horses seem to be preserved emotions and memories that relate direct truths about the speaker. While the horses tend to be shrouded in metaphor, the ideas behind them are clear: the speaker is a woman who has perpetually struggled with her idea of self-worth, confidence, and identity. The contradictions she presents are evident in these back-to-back lines: the horses within her "spit at male queens who made / them afraid of themselves. /She had horses who said they weren't afraid." In nearly every stanza the speaker seems to bounce between the idea of being strong ("She had horses who thought they were the sun") and being weak ("She had horses who were much too shy"), being hidden ("She had horses who whispered in the dark, who were afraid to speak") and being revealed ("She had horses who called themselves, 'horse'").

The last lines of the poem condense this contradicting struggle into three short yet potent lines. By effectively labeling the horses as both loved and hated, the dichotomy between her emotions and experiences, and her reason for attempting to reconcile them, becomes clear. The speaker's life is steadfastly comprised of these various "horses" and by uniting them, a whole sense of self can be achieved. While these last lines do not provide a resolution in the typical sense, an answer can be found in the lack of resolve: both the loved and hated aspects of her life intertwine to create simply that: her life.

Tuesday, March 31, 2009

First post on my new blog for ENG 254.