New book fails where others flourish

Page 27

Honour Earth Mother

By Basil Johnston

Kegedonce Press

171 pages, (sc)

$19

Ojibway ethnographer Basil Johnston's newest book, Honour Earth Mother, is a collection of stories about clothing, housing, food and medicine (the needs of people), as well as creation, geography, history and ceremony (the world around the people). Johnston explains in an introduction how the animals and the earth provide for human needs, which makes everything interrelated.

Johnston says that people can learn from their surroundings-and learn about this interrelatedness-if they understand how to read the book of the earth. He believes that the lessons of the earth "came before book knowledge," and that these lessons are more complete than those found in books because people must use every one of their five senses to learn them. The interrelatedness is a good point, and describing the earth as a book is a nice idea, but the delivery just doesn't add up.

On the surface, these stories look like traditional Aboriginal storytelling. But it's clear that Johnston has written these stories himself and is not retelling ancient tales. These stories are missing the metaphor and other important elements that make Aboriginal oral literature accessible and applicable to a diverse population. They're very literal, and have only one meaning.

Traditionally, Aboriginal stories were told to make sense of the world and to illustrate proper behavior. But Johnston's stories contain ideas that are not in keeping with the Aboriginal world view.

For example, Johnston tells a story about the Ojibway character Nanaboozhoo punishing some owls, and there is also a story about some animals killing a warrior in retribution. Since when is the (Western) concept of punishment an Aboriginal idea?

Aboriginal societies are teaching societies, in which people are taught by example, not by punishment. And although Aboriginal societies resorted to exile as a last resort for those who repeatedly threatened the integrity of the community, retribution is not the way Aboriginal people deal with serious breaches of protocol.

There is also the matter of tone. Johnston's tone throughout the book is judgmental and dismissive. The author says Crow earns a "low opinion" because "it cannot learn." In fact, the author has several stories in which he portrays animals as not learning, and he considers them all "lowly." While it is true that traditional Aboriginal stories may point out a character's weakness-especially if it is a teaching story-it is also true that they tend to point out each character's particular gift.

Aboriginal societies are different from Western societies because Aboriginal societies accept people for who they are and what they bring to the group. No one is blamed for a basic human limitation.

Some of the characters in these stories are described as "ashamed," yet few Native cultures have the concept of shame or guilt (which is why court translators in Alberta, for example, have translated ways for a defendant to plead that they are either responsible or not responsible, which is more in keeping with the Aboriginal worldview).

There are also many stories in this book about animals that have done some sort of wrong. Taken with the focus on blame, shame, and guilt-and the various characters who "cannot learn"-it seems that the author may have unresolved issues from his residential school experience (an experience he has made public in other books).

There are also major errors throughout the book. For example, Johnston says that, traditionally, "Famine was unknown" in Native communities, and that starving families were a result of a failure on the part of the family's provider. Not only is there plenty of historical evidence that refutes this opinion, but it highlights yet again the author's focus on blame and shows him as once again sitting in judgment on everybody he sees as failing his standards.

The author has a florid, old-fashioned style of writing, whic makes the book seem a bit like 19th century prose ("Such vanity! Such coyness!"). He's also excessively maudlin in parts ("She [the earth] whispers, 'I love you. I care.'") and relies too often on cliches (he describes one story as a "David and Goliath" struggle). Johnston uses no literary technique, such as metaphor or allegory, relying instead on didacticism. He explains rather than illustrates. He also constantly dismisses European attitudes to land and life, as well as European science.

It's a limited approach, and it makes the author sound narrow-minded. Johnston doesn't pull the reader into his world, or into his argument, using even-handed arguments and graceful conclusions. He just sounds bitter.

Johnston has dealt with history, culture, and stories in his writing and in his work as an ethnographer at the Royal Ontario Museum. He was one of the first Aboriginal people to communicate Aboriginal culture to the dominant society, and he enjoys a considerable reputation as a result.

Unfortunately, his reputation seems to outweigh his ability to tell an effective and well-constructed series of stories. Although the book's introduction and summation both contain honorable messages-in the former, that everything is related, and in the latter, that Aboriginal people should take back the stewardship they used to practise over the earth-the storytelling is less than stellar.

If people want to understand the earth's role as teacher, there are plenty of books out there that will explain those lessons. If they want to understand the importance of stories to the human universe-and how stories are used and viewed within Aboriginal societies-they'd do better to seek out Thomas King's brilliant and well-written new book The Truth About Stories: A Native Narrative. Unfortunately, as Honour Earth Mother shows, Johnston's writing just doesn't match his vision.