Trans-Pacific Dialogue: Constructing Indigenous Identity in Contemporary Northern Native American and Taiwanese Indigenous Texts

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Authors Yu, Yingwen

Citation Yu, Yingwen. (2021). Trans-Pacific Dialogue: Constructing Indigenous Identity in Contemporary Northern Native American and Taiwanese Indigenous Texts (Doctoral dissertation, University of Arizona, Tucson, USA).

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TRANS-PACIFIC DIALOGUE:

CONSTRUCTING INDIGENOUS IDENTITY IN CONTEMPORARY

NORTHERN NATIVE AMERICAN AND TAIWANESE INDIGENOUS TEXTS

Ying-wen Yu

______

A Dissertation Submitted to the Faculty of the

DEPARTMENT OF ENGLISH

In Partial Fulfillment of the Requirements For the Degree of

DOCTOR OF PHILOSOPHY

In the Graduate College

THE UNIVERSITY OF ARIZONA

2021

THE UNIVERSITY OF ARIZONA GRADUATE COLLEGE

As members of the Dissertation Committee, we certify that we have read the dissertation prepared by: Ying-wen Yu titled: Trans-Pacific Dialogue: Constructing Indigenous Identity in Contemporary Northern Native American and Taiwanese Indigenous Texts and recommend that it be accepted as fulfilling the dissertation requirement for the Degree of Doctor of Philosophy.

______Date: ______May 13, 2021 Jennifer Jenkins

Homer Pettey ______Date: ______May 14, 2021 Homer Pettey

______Date: ______May 13, 2021 Amy Fatzinger

Final approval and acceptance of this dissertation is contingent upon the candidate’s submission of the final copies of the dissertation to the Graduate College.

I hereby certify that I have read this dissertation prepared under my direction and recommend that it be accepted as fulfilling the dissertation requirement.

______Date: ______May 13, 2021 Jennifer Jenkins Dissertation Committee Chair

Deaprtment of English

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

Words cannot express my gratitude to my family for their love and support throughout this entire process.

This work would not have been possible without the support of my Dissertation

Committee. I would like to express my deepest gratitude to my advisor, Dr. Jennifer Jenkins, for her invaluable input throughout the dissertation process and the years in the Ph. D program. Her critical provocations and thoughtful readings helped me consider the larger nuances of my topic.

I would like to thank Dr. Amy Fatzinger for her brilliance, understanding and humor. Her knowledge on American Indian Studies helped me consider my dissertation within a broader context. I would like to thank Dr. Homer Pettey for his patience during my moments of panic, and suggestions during the moments of clarity.

I would like to give special thanks to professors of the Native American Literature study group in Taiwan for showing me the magical doorway to Native American literature. My gratitude extends to A. Robert Lee for his support, encouragement, guidance, and for believing in me, and to Gerald Vizenor for his friendship and being a significant source of inspiration.

My completion of this project could not have been accomplished without the encouragement and friendship of my dear friends. Your support and love make me feel at home in this foreign country, and your sense of humor and occasional sarcasm keep me sane.

Finally, to my caring and supportive husband, Jorge, and my loving daughter, Mia: my heartfelt thanks. Xie-xie.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Abstract ….………………………………………………………………………………………. 5

Introduction. Trans-Pacific Dialogue: Contracting Indigenous Identity in Cotemporary Northern

Native American and Taiwanese Indigenous Texts ………………………………..…6

Chapter 1. Stories Make the World: Voices of Ancestors in N. Scott Momaday’s The Way to

Rainy Mountain and Dadelavan Ebau’s See You Again, Eagle………………….…..31

Chapter 2. Adapting to Natural Disasters with Humor in Ofelia Zepeda’s “The Floods of 1993

and Others” and Walis Nokan’s “Tribal Disaster Studies”……………………….…74

Chapter 3. Writing Home, Writing Memories in Thomas King’s Truth & Bright Water and

Rimuy Aki’s The Hometown of Lapaw………………………………………….…105

Chapter 4. All-My-Relations: Humans, Nature, and Culture in Linda Hogan’s People of the

Whale and Ahronglong Sakinu’s The Wind Walker……………………….……….140

Chapter 5. Boats of Transmotion and Indigenous Presence in Gerald Vizenor’s Treaty Shirts and

Chien-hsiang Lin’s Kawut na Cinat’kelang (Assembling the Big Boat)……….…..180

Conclusion. The Future of Trans-Pacific Dialogue: “The World Begins at a Kitchen Table”—

Indigenous Foodways as An Example………………………………..……….……215

References………………………………………………………………………………………225 5

ABSTRACT

Trans-Pacific Dialogue: Constructing Indigenous Identity in Contemporary Northern Native

American and Taiwanese Indigenous Texts pursues a comparative approach, emphasizes

Indigenous perspectives, and interrogates the complexity of Indigenous identity formation through relationships with family, community, culture, and nature. The juxtaposition of Native

American and Taiwanese Indigenous texts in Trans-Pacific Dialogue demonstrates an innovative and productive comparative approach that contributes to the global Indigenous conversation, promotes the visibility of Taiwanese Indigenous texts for the global Indigenous community, and broadens global Indigenous fields of inquiry. Both N. Scott Momaday and Ebau demonstrate the importance of ancestors’ voice and stories in affirming their Indigenous identity in The Way to

Rainy Mountain (1969) and See You Again, Eagle (2004), respectively. Ofelia Zepeda’s “The

Floods of 1993 and Others” (1995) and Walis Nokan’s “Tribal Disasters Studies” (2016) showcase both poets utilizing Native humor in storytelling to assert the narrative of survival. As homing-in is a significant trope in Native American literature, I argue that both Thomas King’s

Truth and Bright Water (2000) and Rimuy Aki’s The Hometown of Lapaw (2010) decolonize home with Indigenous knowledge and practice of recovery and survival for individual, community, and culture. Linda Hogan’s People of the Whale (2008), and Sakinu’s The Wind

Walker (2000) honor Traditional Ecological Knowledge and strengthen the relationship between

Indigenous identity and nature. Finally, Gerald Vizenor’s Treaty Shirts (2014) and Lin Chien

Hsiang’s documentary Kawut na Cinat’kelang: Rowing the Big Assembled Boat (2009) assert

Indigenous identity through the right of motion and cultural sovereignty.

Introduction

Trans-Pacific Dialogue: Constructing Indigenous Identity in

Contemporary Northern Native American and Taiwanese Indigenous Texts

Trans-Pacific Dialogue is a comparative framework of contemporary Northern Native

American and Taiwanese Indigenous texts that seek to provide Indigenous-centered perspectives on Indigenous identity formation in the context of a global Indigenous voice and community.

Being one of the first comparative frameworks between Native American literature and

Taiwanese Indigenous texts, Trans-Pacific Dialogue bridges the gap between the two islands,

Turtle Island and the island of Taiwan. Despite the differences in languages, cultures, and spatial locations, Trans-Pacific Dialogue examines the dynamics and complexity of Indigenous identity formation in relation to story, family, community, culture, and nature in Northern Native

American and Taiwanese Indigenous literatures, thereby broadening the conversation among global Indigenous communities. Echoing Chadwick Allen’s notion of trans-Indigeneity which

“acknowledges the mobility and multiple interactions of Indigenous peoples, cultures, histories, and texts,”1 Trans-Pacific Dialogue seeks to scrutinize the significance of Indigenous identity formation in contemporary Northern Native American and Taiwanese Indigenous texts, chart productive relationships across the geographical and language boundaries, and demonstrate

Indigenous-centered methodologies and literary texts. Identity formation is an ongoing process in which people see themselves and develop relationships with others, and it is also shaped by

“recognition, absence of recognition or misrecognition by others.”2 Because various competing

1 Chadwick Allen, Trans-Indigenous Methodologies for Global Native Literary Studies (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 2012), xiv.

2 Hilary N. Weaver, “Indigenous Identity: What Is It, and Who Really Has It?” American Indian Quarterly 25, no.2 (Spring, 2001), 243.

7 factors constitute the process of identity formation, shared characteristics such as language, ethnicity, nationality, and culture, to name a few, create a sense belonging and solidarity. Just as human identity is multilayered, Indigenous Identity is complex and multifaceted. In “Indigenous

Identity: What Is It, and Who Really Has It?” Hilary N. Weaver points out that Indigenous identity is generally comprised of “self-identification, community identification, and external identification,”3 which is often highly contested because of different criteria of identity within

Indigenous communities and the federal government as well as the influence of colonization and internalized oppression. Though identity politics change over time, Weaver observes that

Indigenous cultures, including language and history, indeed help individuals and communities to form cultural identity as reflected in beliefs and worldviews. Similarly, the four elements sacred history, language, ceremony and place in Tom Holm’s Peoplehood Matrix not only “intertwine, interpenetrate, and interact”4 with one another but also formulate “a particular group’s larger sense of identity.”5 In his Trans-Indigenous Methodologies for Global Native Literary Studies,

Allen points out that the immediate question concerning the complexity of Indigenous identities is “how to recognize, acknowledge, confront, and critically engage the effects of differential experiences and performances of Indigenous identities… when Indigenous identities will be only more and not less diverse and complex, and in ways we have yet to imagine.”6 Therefore, to discuss Indigenous identity is to reveal the complexity of history, acknowledge specific cultures

3 Weaver, 244.

4 Tom Holm, J. Diane Pearson, Ben Chavis, “Peoplehood: A Model for the Extension of Sovereignty in American Indian Studies,” Wicazo Sa Review 18, no. 1 (Spring, 2003), 13.

5 Holm, Pearson, and Chavis, 12.

6 Allen, Trans-Indigenous, xxxii-xxxiii.

8 of Indigenous communities, and engage in a trans-Indigenous conversation. Rather than investigating Indigenous identity by means of blood quantum or lineal descent, the exploration of

Indigenous identity in this project centers on cultural identity which reflects in the worldviews, beliefs, and values because cultural identity encompasses language, history, and lifeways that are significant to Indigenous communities.

The terminology used in Trans-Pacific Dialogue, in addition to being respectful and accurate, reflects the necessary sensibilities and Indigenous-centered approaches in the field of inquiry. Reflecting on word choices that are shaped by colonialism, Tara Campbell calls attention to Indigenous narrative style because it is a way to understand the foundations of word choice and highlight the importance of engaging in respectful and productive conversation in her

“A Copy Editor’s Education in Indigenous Style.” In Trans-Pacific Dialogue, I rely on Devon

Abbott Mihesuah’s So You Want to Write About American Indians? A Guide for Writers,

Students, and Scholars, and Gregory Younging’s Elements of Indigenous Style: A Guide for

Writing By and About Indigenous Peoples to navigate the proper use of language in writing.

Following their guidelines, I use the capitalized Indigenous to refer to Indigenous peoples collectively and separately. Furthermore, the term Indigenous is common in international usage, and it echoes the global movement proposed by the “U.N. Declaration on the Rights of

Indigenous Peoples.” Though the term Native American raises concerns about Indigenous communities outside of the continental U.S. such as Alaska Natives and Native Hawaiians and

Indigenous people in Canada, Central and South America, Native Americans is common usage for Indigenous people in the United States of America during the civil rights era of the 1960 because it emphasized the Native population and cultures that predated European colonization; furthermore, the term did not carry the negative connotations as the term Indian did. Instead of

Aboriginal, the term Taiwanese Indigenous people refers to Indigenous people in Taiwan in

Trans-Pacific Dialogue so as to respond to the constitutional amendment that replaced

Aboriginal with Indigenous peoples in 1997. As for specific terms and capitalized words, I follow Younging’s and Mihesuah’s guidelines to Indigenize writing and to promote a decolonizing perspective.

Contemporary Northern Native American and Taiwanese Indigenous texts demonstrate both the shared concern of Indigenous identity formation and the increasing awareness of

Indigenous cultural revitalization since the 1960s. In his “The Indian Renaissance, 1960-2000,”

Robert Warrior uses Billy Mills, the first Lakota to win a gold medal at the 1964 Tokyo

Olympics, as an example to explain the empowered Indigenous participation in the history of the

United States so as to counter “the history tendency to set Indians apart from America’s history.”7 The founding of the National Indian Youth Council (NIYC) in 1961 is one of the first

Native organizations to use direct action protests to pursue its goals such as supporting the

Pacific Northwest fishing rights. In addition to Mills’ victory in the international arena in 1964, a small group of Sioux held the first demonstration by occupying Alcatraz in 1964. Though the unsuccessful demonstration lasted less than a day, it raised people’s attention for Indigenous treaty right and protests across the Bay Area in the next few years. Warrior points out that though the National Congress of American Indians (NCAI) was founded in 1944, the year 1964 marked a significant year because Vine Deloria Jr. became the new executive director for the organization as well as “the most prominent Native intellectual of the century.”8 Deloria’s non-

7 Robert Warrior, “The Indian Renaissance, 1960-2000: Stumbling to Victory, or Anecdotes of Persistence?” in The Oxford Handbook of American Indian History (New York: Oxford University Press, 2016), 131.

8 Warrior, 131.

10 fiction Custer Died for Your Sins: An Indian Manifesto (1969) advocates Indigenous-centered perspectives and encourages active participation in Indigenous issues. Founded in 1968, the

American Indian Movement (AIM) addressed systemic poverty and violence against Native

Americans in urban areas, organized various protests to promote Native American interests, and occupied the Bureau of Indian Affairs in the “Trail of Broken Treaties” to demand their concerns about sovereignty and treaty rights. The Indian Civil Rights Act of 1968 urged sovereignty by ensuring Indigenous people the Bill of Rights, and prohibiting state governments from acquiring additional authority over Indian reservations without tribal consent. Additionally, in literary field, N. Scott Momaday’s 1969 Pulitzer winner book, House Made of Dawn, not only reached wide readership but also raised awareness about Native American authors, artistic expression, and cultures. Kenneth Lincoln coined the term, the “Native American Renaissance,” in his 1983

Native American Renaissance to show the increasing numbers of Native authors and works, followed by N. Scott Momaday’s House Made of Dawn, and to reflect on early Indigenous writers and texts. Literature has been an integral part of the renaissance because Native literary works refer to early Indigenous writers, reclaim the heritage through literary expressions, and revive Indigenous storytelling. In other words, “Native American Renaissance” suggests transformation, resurgence and revitalization of Indigenous life. Indigenous writers commonly incorporate oral tradition in written texts to push genre boundaries, present distinctive worldviews, affirm Indigenous cultures, and emphasize the narrative of survival to counter colonialist history. Paula Gunn Allen contends that there are three waves in the development of

Native American literature. The major concerns for writers of the first wave, from 1870 to1970, are the loss of land and culture, and thus, identity. Writers from the second wave, from 1970 to the early 1990s, though negotiating internal and external conflicts, provide a sense of hope and

11 assert Indigenous identity in the texts. Writers of the third wave emphasize distinct experiences and histories, and revive culture and traditions of their communities.9 As the Native American

Renaissance continues to prosper, so Indigenous writers explore various themes with different ways of storytelling. In addition to Momaday’s emphasis on the power of language and stories,

Leslie Marmon Silko intertwines Laguna oral tradition and ceremonies in her texts; Gerald

Vizenor challenges readers with his imagination and trickster discourse; Louise Erdrich presents an Indigenous world that evolves around family history and generational conflicts; Thomas King counters colonial history with humor; Linda Hogan stresses the close relationship among all forms of life, to name a few. The diverse themes and genres of Native American literature exhibit major contemporary concerns, including the quest for identity, interconnectedness among individuals, communities, and the non-human world, and the narrative of survival and the awareness of sovereignty; furthermore, the emphasis on Indigenous knowledge and perspective dismantles stereotypes and shapes the distinctiveness of Indigenous identity.

The rise of Taiwanese Indigenous literature in the 1980s reveals the impact of colonialism on Indigenous communities and demands acknowledgement of the diverse

Taiwanese Indigenous cultures. Yi-chun Wei contends that 1984 marked as a significant year for the development of Taiwanese Indigenous literature because it was the year in which Paiwan poet Monaneng published three poems about the resistance to colonial oppression in 春風叢刊

[Spring Wind] a magazine banned by the Kuomingtang government during the Martial Law

9 Paula Gunn Allen, Song of the Turtle: American Indian Literature, 1974-1994 (New York: Ballantine, 1996).

Period (1948-1987).10 It was also the year of the establishment of the 台灣原住民族權利促進會

[Association for the Advancement of Taiwanese Indigenous Rights,] the first pan-Indigenous organization in the history of Taiwan.11 As more and more Indigenous people got involved in publication, policy making, and activism, so Indigenous writers have sought to reclaim

Indigenous identity and rediscover the family and community history. Wei writes, “也就是在一

九八四年的前後，各族「原運世代」的文學創作者‘文化論述者，不僅奠定了戰後台灣原

住民文學構成的基礎，進而掀起並帶動了不同世代的原住民以漢語、族語或混語參與文學

書寫的浪潮” 12 [It was around 1984 that Indigenous authors of the ‘Indigenous Activism

Generation’ built up the foundation of the post-war Taiwanese Indigenous literature, and promoted Indigenous writings in Han language, tribal language, and even the mixture of both languages across generations]. After the lifting of Martial Law in 1987, Indigenous literature along with Taiwan localism began to prosper. Established in 1993, 山海文化雙月刊 [Taiwan

Indigenous Voice Bimonthly (TIVB)] has become “為原住民搭建一個屬於自己的文化舞台：

在這個舞台上，讓我們的同胞盡情揮灑自己的文學才華、藝術想像、文化創見以及獨特的

10 See Yi-chun Wei 魏貽君, Zhan hou tai wan yuan zhu min zu wen xue xing cheng de tan cha 戰後台灣原住民族文學形成的探察 [The Development of the Post-War Taiwanese Indigenous Literature] (Taipei: Ink, 2013). My translation.

11 See Hsih-chung Hsieh 謝世忠, Ren tong de wu ming tai wan yuan zhu min de zu qun bian qian 認同的污名：台灣原住民的族群變遷 [Ethnic Contacts, Stigmatized Identity, and Pan-Taiwan Aboriginalism: A Study on Ethnic Change of Taiwan Aborigines]. Taipei: Tipi, 2017.

12 Yi-chun Wei, 魏貽君 Zhan hou tai wan yuan zhu min zu wen xue xing cheng de tan cha 戰後台灣原住民族文學形成的探察 [The Development of the Post-War Taiwanese Indigenous Literature] (Taipei: Ink, 2013), 36. My translation.

政經觀點” 13 [the cultural platform for Indigenous people on which [Indigenous authors] are able to express their creativity in literature, art, culture, and provide distinct political and economic perspectives], as Da-chuan Sun claims. Sun observes the transformation of Taiwanese

Indigenous communities in literature, from being passive objects for investigation to being active subjects to demonstrate who they are, and calls attention to Indigenous writers the responsibility to pass down the voices and wisdom of ancestors. Therefore, the shared concerns of Taiwanese

Indigenous writers include personal and familial experiences as in Sakinu’s 山豬，飛鼠，撒可

努 [Wild Boar, Flying Squirrel, Sakinu], and Rimuy Aki’s 山櫻花的故鄉 [The Hometown of

Lapaw], sacred landscape and creation stories as in Neqou Sokluman’s 東谷沙飛 [Tongku

Saveq] and Syaman Raponagang’s 八代灣的神話 [Creation Stories of Badaiwan], and history of

Indigenous communities as in Badai’s 野韻 [Wild Tunes] and Walis Nokan’s 番人之眼 [Eyes of Savages]. These Indigenous writers enrich the field of Taiwanese Indigenous literature with diverse themes and genres; furthermore, their use of Indigenous languages as a form of resistance interrupts the grammar of the dominant Mandarin Chinese. By including creation stories, ceremonial knowledge, and traditions in their writings, Taiwanese Indigenous writers expand perspectives by “社會互動的整體文化意義增值的進行式狀態”14 [keeping the interaction with the society and enhancing the cultural value in motion], and affirm the

Indigenous identity and culture in their stories.

13 Da-chuan Sun 孫大川, Shan hai shi jie: tai wan yuan zhu min xin ling shi jie de mo xie 山海世界：台灣原住民心靈世界的摹寫 [The World of Mountain and Ocean: The Depiction of Taiwanese Indigenous Inner World] (Taipei: Unitas Publishing, 2000), 148. My translation.

14 Wei, 戰後台灣原住民族文學形成的探察 [The Development of the Post-War Taiwanese Indigenous Literature], 328. My translation.

Indigenous identity formation reveals the importance of Indigenous heritage and culture; on the other hand, it also demonstrates the complex history among Indigenous people, colonizers, and settler colonizers especially with the different labels associated with Indigenous people. The term “Indian” is problematic because it is a misnomer used by Christopher

Columbus, who thought he had reached the East Indies in 1492. Even though the term “Indian” indicates a historical error,15 it has been widely used in treaties, laws, and modern discourse within Tribal communities. For example, the goals of the Dawes Act of 1887 were “to extinguish tribal sovereignty, erase reservation boundaries, and force the assimilation of Indians into the society at large,”16 and Carlisle Indian School was founded in 1879 with the infamous motto,

“Kill the Indian. Save the Man.” Priscilla Wald uses two Supreme Court cases—Cherokee

Nation v. Georgia (1831) and Scott v. Sandford (1857) -- to argue that “the rhetoric of erasure”17 in the two cases made Native Americans “not legally representable.”18 Native Americans not only were removed from their land and in legal cases but also disappeared in the literature.

Investigating “Indian-White relations”19 in the nineteenth century American literature, Lucy

15 For example, Vizenor sees the term Indian as a colonial burden imposed on Native communities since Columbus’s accidental discovery of the New World which has no referent to real Native cultures or communities. Therefore, to resist the colonial term, Vizenor italicized the term and puts it in lower case in his writing. See Gerald Vizenor, Manifest Manners: Narratives on Postindian Survivance (Lincoln: Bison Books, 1999).

16 “Dawes Act (1887).” Our Documents. https://www.ourdocuments.gov/doc.php?flash=false&doc=50

17 Priscilla Wald, “Terms of Assimilation: Legislating Subjectivity in the Emerging Nation,” boundary 2 19.3 (Autumn, 1992), 80.

18 Wald, 77.

19 Lucy Maddox, Removals: Nineteenth-Century American Literature and the Politics of Indian Affairs (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1991), 3.

Maddox utilizes the “civilization and extinction”20 dichotomy to point out that “no matter where the writer begins, and no matter what his or her sympathies, nineteenth-century analyses of ‘the

Indian question’ almost always end… at the virtually impassable stone wall of the choice between civilization and extinction for the Indians.”21 Similarly, Renée L. Bergland argues that the formation of American subjectivity and American national discourse insisted that “Native

Americans were extinct, that they did not exist, or that they existed as representatives of the past.”22 The narrative of civilization and extinction is so prevailing that it creates negative stereotypes in literature and popular culture such as blood-thirsty savages and vanishing Indians in James Fenimore Cooper’s Leatherstocking Tales; threats to civilization in Western movies; and even derogatory terms such as “redskin,” “squaw” or “Injun.”23 Even though Indian,

American Indian, and Native American are commonly used and interchangeable, these terms are not able to demonstrate the diverse cultures of each Indigenous community.

20 Maddox, 8.

21 Moddox, 8.

22 Renée L. Bergland, The National Uncanny, Indian Ghosts and American Subjects (Hanover: Dartmouth College, 2000), 15.

23 The Indigenous people name controversy demonstrates the complex history of the terminology used by Indigenous and non-Indigenous people. “Redskin” was largely used for the color metaphor for race in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, and the term became a derogative slang for Native people in the northern Native America through the nineteenth and twentieth centuries. The term was translated in Mandarin Taiwanese as hong fan 紅番 [red savages] to refer to Native Americans. Historically, “squaw” referred to Native American females, and it is considered a demeaning and offensive term for Native American females. In Cogewea, Mourning Dove expresses her strong disapproval for the term that she writes, “If I was to marry a white man and he would dare call me a ‘squaw,’—as an epithet with the sarcasm that we know so well—I believe that I would feel like killing him.” The term, “Injun,” is a mispronunciation of “Indian.” Therefore, it is often used to mock Natives who speak with a heavy accent.

Similarly, the different names of Taiwanese Indigenous people in history reflect conflicts with various colonizers. Before the Han people migrated from China to Taiwan as early as the seventeenth century,24 Taiwanese Indigenous people had inhabited the island for at least 6500 years, and they were part of the Austronesian family with a distinct culture and language.25

Indigenous people were called dong fan 東番 [Savages of the East]”during the early seventeenth century in Ming Dynasty and Indias or Blacks by the colonial Dutch Empire between 1624 and

1662.26 The common use of fan 番 [savage] was found in historical documents. For example,

Deng Chuang-an’s “Li ce hui chao”蠡測匯鈔 [A Glimpse of Life] records his contact with and observation of Taiwanese Indigenous people in the early nineteenth century during the Qing

Dynasty:

台灣四面皆海，而大山亙其南北。山以西，民番雜居；山以東，有番無民，番所聚處曰社。於東西之間，分疆畫界；界內番，或在平地，或再進山，皆熟番也；界外番，或規劃，或未歸化，皆生番也。27

24 Taiwanese Han people (漢人), including Ming-nan (閩南人), Hakka (客家人) and Mainlander (外省人), refer to the decedents of those who migrated to Taiwan between the 17th and 19th century, during 1945 and 1949 mostly with the Kuomingtang government, and people from China, Hong Kong, and Macau after 1990s.

25 Taiwanese Indigenous people are considered part of the Austronesian family because of the linguistic and genetic similarities. See Albert Min-shan Ko, “Early Austronesians: Into and Out of Taiwan,” The American Journal of Human Genetics: Cell Press 94.3 (Mar. 2014): 426- 436.

26 Taiwan, also known as Formosa, was under the Dutch colonization from 1624 to 1662. In addition to economic development in Taiwan and trades with the Ming Empire in China, the Dutch also attempted to convert Taiwanese Indigenous people to Christianity. See Ann Heylen, “Taiwan in late Ming and Qing China,” Routledge Handbook of Cotemporary Taiwan (London: Routledge, 2016): 7-21.

27 Chuan-an Deng 鄧傳安, Li ce hui chao 蠡測匯鈔 [A Glimpse of Life] “A Glimpse of Life,” Zhong huo zhe xue shu dian zi hua ji hua 中國哲學書電子化計畫 [Digitization of Books of Chinese Philosophy]. https://ctext.org/wiki.pl?if=gb&chapter=604337 My translation. “A Glimpse of Life” is about Deng’s experience living in Taiwan in the early 19th century. The excerpt explains the geography of Taiwan and provides information about Taiwanese society in

[Taiwan is surrounded by ocean, and the mountain range rests from the north to the south. There are people and savages who live west of the mountain; but only savages are in the east of the mountain. Sia is where savages gather. Between the east and the west, there are territories. Savages residing within the territories or on the plain or close to the mountains are called cooked savages; savages who do not live within the territories, in the remote areas or have not been in contact with the society are called raw savages.]

Made up stories about Han-Indigenous conflicts were widespread to reinforce the negative stereotypes of savages and to strengthen the Han cultural dominance.28 The use of savages was also common during the beginning of the Japanese Occupation Period (1895-1945) until anthropologist Ino Kanori renamed shu fan 熟番 [cooked savages] to ping pu zu 平埔族 [the

Plain People] and sheng fan 生番 [raw savages] to Takasago 高砂族.29 The nine communities of

Takasago became the first nine recognized Indigenous communities during the settler

relation to Indigenous communities. The mountain separating the island is now Central Mountain Range. The west of the range is mainly plain while the east is mountainous area. As of today, township or city names that contain 社 Sia or Shé means that these places were within the territory of Indigenous communities. The raw and cooked metaphors, or sometimes translated as wild and domesticated, indicate the level of assimilation of Indigenous communities.

28 One of the stories is the myth of [Wu-fung] who maintained good relationship with Indigenous people due to his wisdom and bravery. Though Wu-fung tried to civilize Indigenous people by telling them to abandon using human sacrifice for a ceremony, Indigenous people would not listen to him because of their nature. As a result, Wu-fung sacrifices himself to let Indigenous people know the importance of adapting to civilization. The story was written into different books about Taiwan and textbooks in late 19th and early 20th century. A town and memorial park were named after Wu-fung during the Kuomingtang dominance. It was in 1989 when Indigenous people demanded the official change of the name and elimination of the story in textbooks that the myth of Wu-fung was demystified.

29 Ino Kanori used Plain Indigenous people (平埔族) and Takasago (高砂族) or Mountain people to replace raw and cooked savages. The nine recognized Indigenous communities include Amis, Paiwan, Atayal, Bunun, Puyuma, Rukai, Saisiyat, Tsau , and Tao. As of today, in addition to the nine communities, there are seven more recognized Indigenous communities, including Thao, Kavalan, Taroko, Sakizaya, Seediq, Hla’alua, and Kanakanavu.

18 colonization of the authoritarian Kuomingtang government 國民黨政府 (KMT).30 During the dominance of the Kuomingtang government, the monolithic term shan bao 山胞 [Mountain

People] was the official title of the Indigenous people, despite their different cultures and languages.31 Moreover, government policies were designed to enhance assimilation into the Han culture by abandoning Indigenous names, languages, and cultures, intermarriage, and implementing land privatization so as to lessen Indigenous and cultural identity.32 It was not until the constitutional amendments of 1994 that Aboriginals replaced the degrading term Mountain

People. In the constitutional amendments of 1997, Indigenous People became the official term because it conveys the collective rights and honors the differences; in addition, several articles became official to affirm Indigenous cultures and recognition. Since then, more and more

Indigenous people have become involved in political self-determination, economic development, and language and culture revitalization.

Just as an individual’s identity is an ongoing development, so Indigenous cultural identity, rather than being static, reveals progressive cultural awareness and a process of cultural

30 After World War II in 1945, Taiwan was to return to the Republic of China (ROC). The Kuomingtang government retreated to Taiwan and claimed political authority over Taiwan in 1949 after civil war between the Communists and Nationalists in China. In order for the KMT government to control the population, Mandarin Chinese and cultures were introduced to Indigenous communities and Taiwanese people. See John Balcom, “Translator’s Introduction,” Indigenous Writers of Taiwan: An Anthology of Stories, Essays, & Poems (New York: Columbia University Press, 2005): ix-xxiv.

31 Mountain people was replaced by Aboriginal people in the constitutional reform of 1994, and Indigenous people became the official term in the constitutional reform of 1997. As a result, both Aboriginal and Indigenous are commonly used in the translations of Taiwanese Indigenous related materials.

32 See Chi Chung-Chieh, “Indigenous Movements and Multicultural Taiwan,” Routledge Handbook of Contemporary Taiwan (London: Routledge, 2016): 268-279.

19 revitalization and renewal both crucial to individuals and communities. It is important to note that not all Indigenous people have the same experience and share the same cultural identity; rather, the diverse Indigenous cultures have different interests and contexts that foster varied process of identification. Because of the complexity of cultural identity, Indigenous writers and scholars have discussed the mammoth task of constructing Indigenous identity and have found that an individual identity is inseparable from a collective one. Louis Owens points out that the quest for identity is “at the center of American Indian fiction”33 because centuries of colonialism

“results in widespread loss of cultural identity.”34 Therefore, in order to recover one’s identity, one must “[rediscover] sense of place as well as community.”35 Similarly, in That the People

Might Live, Jace Weaver coins the term communitism—"a shared quest for belonging, a search for community”36 —to reiterate the importance of community in Indigenous culture. His emphasis on the power of language in Indigenous identity formation demonstrates that stories

“create identity and community”37 and promote the connections to cultures and traditions.

In other words, Indigenous identity is more than one’s affiliation and kinship lineage; it is closely related to a “wider community” such as land, cultures, worldviews and traditions.38

Encompassing the interrelationship between language, sacred history, place, and ceremonial

33 Louis Owens, Other Destinies: Understanding the American Indian Novel (Norman: University of Oklahoma Press, 1992), 5.

34 Owens, 5.

35 Owens, 5.

36 Jace Weaver, That the People Might Live: Native American Literatures and Native American Community (New York: Oxford University Press, 1997), 45.

37 Weaver, 20.

38 Weaver, 39.

20 cycle, the Peoplehood Matrix, proposed by Tom Holm, is “universal to all Native American tribes and nations and possibly to all indigenous groups and could equally serve as the primary theoretical underpinning of indigenous peoples studies.”39 The Peoplehood Matrix as an

Indigenous epistemology helps readers to understand the connectedness and relationships of the four elements and how the elements help individuals to construct Indigenous identity with the community, culture, and nature. Likewise, reflecting on colonial history of Taiwanese

Indigenous people and the awareness of Indigenous rights and cultures since the 1980s, Da- chuan Sun urges Taiwanese Indigenous writers to include knowledge of hunting, ceremonies, and oral stories in their writings so as to “深化族群意識和部落經驗” 40 [deepen communal values and tribal experiences,] and “厚植、確立原住民的文化存在、歷史存在” 41 [nurture and affirm the existence of Indigenous cultures and history]. The pursuit of Indigenous identity reveals that individual identity is intertwined with collective awareness, such as values and worldviews, and cultural renewal.

Trans-Pacific Dialogue demonstrates an innovative and productive comparative approach that contributes to the global Indigenous conversation, promotes the visibility of Taiwanese

Indigenous texts for the global Indigenous community, and broadens global Indigenous fields of

39 Holm, Person, and Chavis, 12.

40 Da-chuan Sun 孫大川, “Yuan zhu min wen hua li shi yu xin ling shi jie de mo xie” 原住民文化歷史與心靈世界的摹寫 [The Writing of Indigenous Culture, History, and Spiritual World: A Discussion on the Possibilities of Indigenous Literature], Tai wan yuan zhu min han yu wen xue xuan ji ping lu juan shang 台灣原住民漢語文學選集：評論卷（上）[Anthology of Taiwanese Indigenous Literature in Han Language: Critical Essays I] (New Taipei City: Ink, 2003), 39. My translation.

41 Sun, 47. My translation.

21 inquiry. In his Trans-Indigenous Methodologies for Global Native Literary Studies, Allen reflects on his comparative studies on American Indian and New Zealand Māori literatures and cultures and contemplates the significance of trans-Indigenous studies that invites and expands productive conversations of and for global Indigenous communities: “My goal in staging purposeful Indigenous juxtapositions is to develop a version of Indigenous literary studies that locates itself firmly in the specificity of the Indigenous local while remaining always cognizant of the complexity of the relevant Indigenous global.”42 While acknowledging the importance of the local-grounded and community-based critical conversation, Allen calls attention to the urgency for the global Indigenous dialogue because “both explicit and implicit collaborations promote approaches to scholarship embracing multiple perspectives rather than a singular focus.”43 With Allen’s statement in mind, I presented “What are Taiwanese (Indigenous People)

Doing in Thomas King’s Novel? A Borderless World in The Back of the Turtle” at the Western

Literature Association conference in 2019. I argued that the minor characters were Taiwanese

Indigenous people because they have been the major labor force of offshore fishing and ocean freight since the1960s, which echoes both King’s personal experience and the storyline in The

Back of the Turtle. I further analyzed the subtext of the history of offshore fishing for Taiwanese

Indigenous people in a documentary, Freezing Point, which depicts the Taiwanese Indigenous workers’ life stories on fishing boats.44 Even though the Taiwanese Indigenous people are minor

42 Allen, Trans-Indigenous, xix.

43 Allen, xxii. See Mita Banerjee, “Introduction: Comparative Indigenous Studies and the Politics of Reconciliation,” Comparative Indigenous Studies (Heidelberg: Universitätsverlag, 2016): 1-18.

44 See Yu-rei Lu 盧昱瑞, dir. Bing dian 冰點 [Freezing Point] (Taipei: Betacam, 2008). My translation.

22 characters in King’s novel, their existence unveils the omitted contribution Taiwanese

Indigenous workers have given to the industry. Just as my presentation engages Taiwanese

Indigenous history in a borderless world, so the current Trans-Pacific Dialogue explored in this project provides a purposeful juxtaposition and promotes Taiwanese Indigenous texts for the global community.

There are small number of book-length works on comparative Indigenous studies and even smaller number of critical essays include Taiwanese Indigenous literary texts in the comparative framework due to a language barrier and limited translations, and these existing critical essays are forerunners that contribute to the development of trans-Indigenous studies.

Prior to Allen’s Trans-Indigenous, Arnold Krupat in 1998 proposed three perspectives— nationalism, Indigenism, and cosmopolitanism—to approach Native American literature.

Expanding upon the previous essay in 2012, Krupat included necessary discussion of transnationalism and trans-Indigenism, and scrutinized possible collaboration among the different perspectives in “Nationalism, Transnationalism, Trans-Indigenism, Cosmopolitanism:

Four Perspectives on Native American Literatures.” After the publication of Trans-Indigenous,

Mita Banerjee compiled the first Comparative Indigenous Studies: A Monograph Series (2016) in which she links Indigenous communities across the globe, and highlights Indigenous studies in the humanities, social science, geography and politics. Comparative Indigenous Studies not only contributes to the expansion on Allen’s trans-Indigenous practice but also enriches the dialogue among Indigenous communities.

While it is exciting to see the emergence of comparative Indigenous texts, the visibility of

Taiwanese Indigenous literature in such a framework remains low. Hsinya Huang is one of the very few scholars in Taiwan who engages in the comparative Indigenous studies by including

Taiwanese Indigenous literary works in her research such as “Trans-Pacific Ecological

Imaginary,” “When Sea Levels Rise: Writing/Righting climate Change in Pacific Islanders’

Literature,” and “Radiation Ecologies, Resistance and Survivance on Pacific Islands” in which she emphasizes the ecological imaginary and multispecies discourse in the comparative framework. Scholarly essays on Taiwanese Indigenous literature, in English or Mandarin, rely heavily on Western theories; furthermore, Syaman Rapongang’s writings are often the focus because of the availability of texts in English translation. For example, Kuei-fen Chiu applies

Derrida’s notion of inheritance to the reading of Syaman Rapongang’s works in “The Production of Indigeneity: Contemporary Indigenous Literature in Taiwan and Trans-Cultural Inheritance.”

Shuhwa Shirley Wu uses the theory of diaspora in reading Syaman Rapongang’s writing in “Tao

Fisherman and the Sea: Shammon Lanpoan’s Memories of Waves.”45 Ya-chu Hsu examines the conflict of identity in Syaman Ranpongang’s writing with Arif Dirlik’s theory on hybridity in

“傳統與現代：原住民作家夏曼藍波灣的地誌書寫與對話”[Tradition and Modernity:

Siaman Rampogan’s Topographic Writing and Dialogue] in Chinese.46 Yih-ren Lin’s “台灣自

然保育的西雅圖酋長化：一個從原住民傳統生態知識出發的基進觀點” [The Chief

Seattlization of Nature Conservation in Taiwan: A Radical Perspective on Indigenous Traditional

Ecological Knowledge] in Chinese is one of the few critical essays emphasizing the conjunction of Indigenous-centered approach and ecocriticism.47

The slow emergence of translations of Taiwanese Indigenous literature demonstrates the necessity of the visibility of Taiwanese Indigenous works in the field of global Indigenous

45 The official Romanized name is Syaman Rapongang.

46 My translation.

47 My translation.

24 studies. The Center for Taiwan Studies at the University of California, Santa Barbara translated some Taiwanese Indigenous works in the special issues of Aboriginal Literature in Taiwan prior to 2002, and there are three special issues in the past two decades, including Taiwan Literature and the Ocean (2005), Mountains, Forests, and Taiwan Literature (2006), and The Mythology and Oral Literature of Taiwan’s Indigenous Peoples (2009). After the publication by the

Columbia University Press of the first anthology of Taiwan Indigenous literature in English translation, Indigenous Writers of Taiwan: An Anthology of Stories, Essays, and Poems (2005), the first anthology of Taiwan Indigenous literature in English translation published by the

Columbia University Press, the Council of Indigenous Peoples in Taiwan published three volumes of The Anthology of Taiwan Indigenous Literature (2015). Serenity International

Publishing House, an independent publisher in California, translated and published Voices from the Mountain (2014), Indigenous Voices: Short Stories by Taiwanese Writers (2020), and My

Dear Ak’i, Please Don’t Be Upset (2021). Cambria Press, another independent publisher in New

York, translated and published The Soul of Jade Mountain in 2020. In addition to the translations, Indigenous Knowledge in Taiwan and Beyond (2021), edited by Shu-mei Shih and

Lin-chin Tsai, situates Taiwanese Indigenous knowledge in a global context. The forthcoming

Taiwan’s Contemporary Indigenous Peoples, edited by Dafydd Fell, Daniel Davies, and Chia- yuan Huang, brings together local and international scholars to examine economic, political, and cultural issues of Taiwanese Indigenous communities. The publication of these two most recent books, along with the English translation of the literary works, reiterates the significance of

Taiwanese Indigenous people in the global Indigenous conversation.

Language is among the major challenges that contributes to the challenge of trans-

Indigenous studies and the low visibility of Taiwanese Indigenous literature in the global

Indigenous studies. In Reinventing the Enemy’s Language, Joy Harjo and Gloria Bird point out that even though many Indigenous writers use the language of colonizers such as English,

Spanish, and French, it is important for writers and readers to “become empowered rather than victimized by destruction”48 with the power of language. In a webinar “AUPresses Community

Read: Why Indigenous Literatures Matter,” Daniel Heath Justice and Alice Te Punga Somerville point out both the privilege and problem of Anglophone Indigenous literature.49 Somerville reminds the audience that there is always a language barrier in Indigenous studies because researchers and scholars tend to normalize Anglophone Indigenous literature. She urges attentiveness to other languages and multilingual collaborations in the future Indigenous studies.

Similarly, Heath mentions that there are rich Francophone Indigenous texts in Quebec, Canada, which are often neglected in the current conversation. Therefore, dialogue across language boundaries is tremendously important. The issues of language barriers also manifest in Trans-

Pacific Dialogue: the lack of translations of the selected Taiwanese Indigenous texts in the project and the lack of consistence such as names, titles of texts, and even information on government websites and publications, in existing translations. It was not until 1995 that

Taiwanese Indigenous people were allowed to use their Indigenous names in either Mandarin or

Romanization transliteration on personal legal documents. As a result, Taiwanese Indigenous writers often used their Han names with designated last names before 1995. For example, Kowan

Talall is known as Ing-hsiung Chen (陳英雄) and Walis Nokan is known as Jun-jie Wu (吳俊

48 Joy Harjo, and Gloria Bird, eds. “Introduction,” Reinventing the enemy’s Language: Contemporary Native Women’s Writings of North America (New York: W. W. Norton, 1997), 21.

49 See “AUPresses Community Read: Why Indigenous Literatures Matter,” Vimeo, February 17, 2021. https://vimeo.com/513599000

傑). The different transliterations used by different scholars and researchers make it difficult to unify names and terms. In order for Trans-Pacific Dialogue to be possible, I translated the selected texts and book titles on my own. The Romanized names of the Taiwanese Indigenous writers are the ones used by the writers, and the Romanized terms are from government websites for credibility.

Trans-Pacific Dialogue transcends language and cultural borders and invokes the concept of Indigenous identity in relation to story, community, culture, and nature. In his influential

“Native American Novels: Homing In,” William Bevis scrutinizes the importance of homing-in plots in Native American literature and argues that the home Native American characters return to include the connection to the community, land, and nature. Leaving home for individual advances has been crucial themes in American literature; however, Native American characters often feel isolated after leaving home because they are disconnected from home, place, and culture. Furthermore, the quest for Indigenous identity is not individual but involves the

“transpersonal self,”50 including community, culture, and place as Bevis argues, “To be separated from that transpersonal time and space is to lose identity”51 because “The tribal ‘being’ has three components: society, past, and place.”52 The society includes material family and community, and practices of religion and law. The past Bevis refers to is not the nostalgic past but the respect for history, Elders, and knowledge. The place is not confined to the home or the community;

50 William Bevis, “Native American Novels: Homing In,” Recovering the Word: Essays on Native American Literature (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1987), 585.

51 Bevis, 586.

52 Bevis, 586.

27 rather, it is where “the protagonist’s growth and pride”53 are made possible. Therefore, I expand

Bevis’ argument that home not only represents a sense of belonging but also constitutes the formation of Indigenous identity. Echoing the three components Bevis proposes, I focus on the significance of story, place, tradition, worldview, and sovereignty in the juxtapositions of the selected Native American and Taiwanese Indigenous texts. Furthermore, to Indigenize and decolonize the discussion of identity, I emphasize the importance of Indigenous-centered perspectives in each chapter.

Inspired by the possibilities of purposeful trans-Indigenous juxtaposition, the chapters in

Trans-Pacific Dialogue demonstrate the distinct contexts and interpretation in relation to

Indigenous identity formation. Chapter One, “Stories Make the World: Voices of Ancestors in N.

Scott Momaday’s The Way to Rainy Mountains and Dadelavan Ebau’s See You Again, Eagle,” begins the process of Trans-Pacific Dialogue by stressing the value of storytelling, especially the ancestral voices, in Indigenous culture. Momaday’s journey to Rainy Mountain helps him to revisit Kiowa creation stories, and Ebau’s trip to Tibet reminds her of the Paiwan culture and stories told by tribal maladas, female shamans. I invoke Justice’s Why Indigenous Literature

Matters and LeAnne Howe’s “tribalography” to discuss both the power of stories and multiple formats of storytelling. More importantly, the stories bring out the importance of survival, continuity and responsibility for future generations. The chapter ends with a brief consideration of being good ancestors for future generations in terms of Indigenous futurisms. Chapter Two,

“Adapting to Natural Disasters with Humor in Ofelia Zepeda’s ‘The Floods of 1993 and Others’ and Walis Nokan’s ‘Tribal Disaster Studies,’” compares two poems about humor as a coping mechanism when facing sudden drastic change in nature. Zepeda’s “The Floods of 1993 and

53 Bevis, 592.

Others” is about the change of landscape and the helplessness the Tohono O’odham experience due to the severe flood in Tucson in 1993, and Walis Nokan describes the unusual calmness of his family and community during a strong typhoon night. Both poets demonstrate that their

Indigenous identity is inseparable from the land, one being the desert and the other the mountains. While it is unbearable to see the home place ruined by natural disasters, Zepeda and

Walis Nokan emphasize the use of humor in difficult situations to strengthen the narrative of survival and resilience. The significance of Indigenous humor lies in its narrative of survival, empowerment, and resistance. Chapter Three, “Writing Home, Writing Memories in Thomas

King’s Truth & Bright Water and Rimuy Aki’s The Hometown of Lapaw,” investigates what home means in Indigenous literature because it encompasses history, memories, and tradition.

More importantly, home provides a sense of healing to counter colonial trauma. Therefore, Linda

Tuhiwai Smith’s Decolonizing Methodologies helps to analyze home in Indigenous texts through recovery and survival. Set at the border of the United States of America and Canada, Thomas

King’s Truth & Bright Water disrupts the national and political boundaries and suggests a shared concern about colonialism. Monroe Swimmer’s restoration project is meant to provide a sense of healing for Indigenous communities. The Atayal gaga, culture and lifeway, in The Hometown of

Lapaw affirm the Atayal identity when the Bawnay family is relocated to another town. Rather than returning home, Aki points out that the Atayal-centered narrative, maintaining the Atayal identity and practicing Atayal gaga, creates home. Chapter Four, “All-My-Relations: Humans,

Nature, and Culture in Linda Hogan’s People of the Whale and Ahronglong Sakinu’s The Wind

Walker,” highlights the concept of all-my-relations by means of hunting in the texts. Gregory

Cajete’s conception of Native Science, the reciprocal relationship between human and nature, helps to interpret the hunting plots in both texts. While People of the Whale demands the respect

29 for all beings in the world, The Wind Walker seeks to revive hunting knowledge so as to understand the significance of all-my-relations. Though Hogan and Sakinu use different approaches illuminate all-my-relations, both writers point out the importance of being a hunter in

Indigenous cultures in the pursuit of respect and balance. Moreover, Traditional Ecological

Knowledge (TEK) not only provides a holistic view of ecosystem but also helps researchers to understand the natural world from an Indigenous perspective. Finally, Chapter Five, “Boats of

Transmotion and Indigenous Presence in Gerald Vizenor’s Treaty Shirts and Chien-hsiang Lin’s

Kawut na Cinat’kelang (Assembling the Big Boat),” discusses the right of motion and cultures in a written text and a documentary. The concept of transmotion involves history, tradition, lifeways, and sovereignty. It celebrates the presence of Indigenous people, culture, and stories, and affirms Indigenous identity with a sense of presence. Vizenor and Lin utilize boats and sailing to demonstrate the sovereignty of motion. Treaty Shirts is a speculative novel in which

Vizenor envisions a future in which sovereignty is sustained by exiles on a boat. The sailing of

Baron of Patronia dismantles the national boundaries and honors the waterway that is meaningful for the Anishinaabe. Lin’s Kawut na Cinat’kelang documents the process of building

Ipangana, a seven-paired assembled boat, and sailing it from Ponso no Tao, Orchid Island or

Lanyu, to Taiwan. The documentary demonstrates the Tao knowledge of building a tatala; more importantly, the sailing route indicates resistance to colonialism and injustice the Tao people have experienced. Both Vizenor and Lin incorporates the history and culture in their texts and state that the very presence of Indigeneity is an affirmation of Indigenous identity.

The five chapters of Trans-Pacific Dialogue develop a process for purposeful juxtapositions in examining the formation of Indigenous identity from Indigenous-centered approaches. It is imperative to engage in productive conversations by including the Taiwanese

Indigenous texts because these Indigenous writers advocate for their culture, tradition and identity in their works. In the context of 21st century literary study, Allen writes, “Trans-, could be the next post-. It could launch a thousand symposia, essays, and books, enlist sympathetic responses, provoke bitter critiques. It could propel the growth of a still-emerging field toward still-unexplored possibilities.”54 Indigenous identity describes the complexity, diversity and even conflicts and contradictions in Indigenous cultures. More importantly, stories help to construct

Indigenous identity as King writes, “The truth about stories is, that’s all we are,”55 and Silko writes, “Story makes community, you know; that’s how you belong; that’s how you know you belong.”56 These five chapters are the initial steps for a broader Trans-Pacific Dialogue which might include Indigenous foodways, Indigenous comics and graphic novels, and Indigenous films. Trans-Pacific Dialogue strives to open up a space for situating Taiwanese Indigenous literature in a global Indigenous community, emphasizes Indigenous-centered methodologies, and promotes interdisciplinary collaboration across the globe.

54 Allen, xv.

55 Thomas King, The Truth About Stories: A Native Narrative (Scarborough: HarperCollins, 2003), 2.

56 Jane Katz, This Song Remembers: Self Portraits of Native Americans in the Arts (Boston: Houghton Mifflin Company, 1980), 190.

Chapter 1

Stories Make the World:

Voices of Ancestors in N. Scott Momaday’s The Way to Rainy Mountain and

Dadelavan Ebau’s See You Again, Eagle

Storytelling is a form of human creativity and activity, and stories releases our imagination, help us bridge the gap between other human communities and non-human beings, and teach us moral lessons. Every culture has its own stories as a means of entertainment, education, and cultural preservation. Storytelling plays a significant role in Indigenous communities because through different forms of storytelling, such as ceremonies, songs, or dream interpretations, shared stories of Indigenous histories, traditions, experiences and worldviews are shared and reiterated among listeners. Indigenous stories may begin with a creation story or an oral story; in fact, the ancestral voices in the stories honor relationship humans have with other beings, pass down sources of knowledge and culture to the younger generations, and offer insight and pathways for meaningful connections. Therefore, the voices of ancestors sustain communities and cultures, and construct a communal identity and a sense of belonging. In his “Native American Novels: Homing In,” William Bevis points out the importance of the past in Native American writings: “Not only is knowledge usually sought, interpreted, and applied in social context […] but useful knowledge is also knowledge from and of the past.”1 Though the past is often viewed as the opposite of progress, the past in Indigenous cultures is indeed the source of knowledge and identity. The voices of ancestors are prominent in

Kiowa writer N. Scott Momaday’s The Way to Rainy Mountain and Paiwan writer Dadelavan

1 William Bevis, “Native American Novels: Homing In,” in Recovering the Word: Essays on Native American Literatures, ed. Brian Swan and Arnold Krupat (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1987), 591.

Ebau’s 老鷹，再見 [See You Again, Eagle] because the stories of and from the ancestors encompass the cultures, histories, and struggles of their people.2 The ancestral voices are a crucial component in Momaday’s The Way to Rainy Mountain: the stories not only construct

Kiowa identity but also remind the future generation to maintain a respectful and living relationship with the culture. Momaday’s journey to Rainy Mountain becomes the spiritual home-coming to a landscape significant in Kiowa culture. In See You Again, Eagle, the voices of ancestors remind Ebau of Paiwan culture and identity, and provide a sense of comfort and healing. Ebau transforms the journey to Tibet into a spiritual returning to the Paiwan sacred mountain and malada culture.3 Both Momaday and Ebau blend ancestral voices into their own narratives and create “a spider’s web” of stories,4 a metaphor Leslie Marmon Silko uses to indicate the non-linear story structure and emphasize the significance of connections and relationships across time and space in Native American stories. The voices of ancestors are not meant to be nostalgic; rather, Trans-Pacific Dialogue of ancestral voices emphasizes the shared

2 The Chinese title of Ebau’s Lao ying zai jian 老鷹，再見 is often translated as Goodbye, Eagle. Because goodbye indicates never going to see or meet again, I chose “See you again” to emphasize the possibility of future encounters, echoing Ebau’s desire to see the eagles again. Furthermore, Ebau includes the title in Paiwan language, miperepereper I kalevelevan aza aris, meaning eagles soaring the sky, reflecting her father’s wish for her to swift, keen, and strong like an eagle. Dadelavan Ebau, the full Paiwan name, is composed of a house name and a given name. Ebau often addresses herself with just the given name. Therefore, I will use her given name, Ebau, in this chapter.

3 The term, malada, is loosely translated as a witch or a shamaness, a female shaman. Ebau uses wu shi 巫師 [witch] in the text, but I chose to use malada in Paiwan language to honor Paiwan culture. The traditional task of a malada is to heal and cure sickness, physically and psychologically. A male shaman is called parakalai who is responsible for performing rituals and ceremonies.

4 Leslie Marmon Silko, “Language and Literature from a Pueblo Indian Perspective,” in English Literature: Opening Up the Canon, ed. Leslie A. Fiedler, and Houston A. Baker, Jr., (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1981), 54.

33 importance of cultural continuity, validates Indigenous cultures and identities, and connects the past, present, and future.

The Way to Rainy Mountain and See You Again, Eagle demonstrate the importance of ancestral voices in Indigenous cultures because the voices help Momaday and Ebau to reconnect with their tribal cultures and communities, provide a sense of belonging and healing, and accentuating the responsibility of passing down knowledge to the future generations. Writing in prose, Momaday weaves three different voices, “the ancestral voice, […] the voice of historical commentary, […] and personal reminiscence,”5 so as to provide biographical and cultural contexts for Kiowa culture in The Way to Rainy Mountain. Momaday’s return to Rainy Mountain was due to his grandmother Aho’s passing; therefore, the journey of returning to the sacred landscape makes Momaday reminisce about the Kiowa stories and history as well as his personal memories of Kiowa elders. The Way to Rainy Mountain begins with the origin of the Kiowa people and ends with Ko-sahn an elder’s recollection about the Sun Dance and Tai-me, the sacred Sun Dance doll. Rather than indicating a linear narrative, the three sections, “The Setting

Out,” “The Going On,” and “The Closing In,” demonstrate the interconnectedness of stories, history, and personal reminiscence in a revolving circle. As the ancestral voices embedded in The

Way to Rainy Mountain constantly remind Momaday of Kiowa culture and the responsibility of being a storyteller for the future generations, so the voices of the Paiwan ancestors in See You

Again, Eagle alleviate Ebau’s pain of the disconnection with Paiwan culture and community. See

You Again, Eagle is a travelogue that documents Ebau’s trip to Tibet because Ebau hopes that the pilgrimage will bring a sense of peace as she constantly feels a sense of detachment in life.

5 N. Scott Momaday, The Way to Rainy Mountain (Albuquerque: University of New Mexico Press, 1969), ix.

Unexpectedly, the more people and places she encounters during the trip, the more she is reminded of the Paiwan stories, history, and culture told by tribal maladas. Ebau writes, “無論跑

多遠，我的左腳右腳，終是要轉彎回來看見你” 6 [No matter how far away I may be, my left and right feet are meant to make a U-turn to see you again]. During the religious trip, the voices of maladas in Ebau’s memories offer guidance for her spiritual return to Paiwan culture and provide a sense of healing.

Both Momaday and Ebau demonstrate how stories make the world and affirm their cultures and identities. In his Why Indigenous Literatures Matter, writer and scholar Daniel

Heath Justice (Cherokee) attempts to understand stories in Indigenous cultures. Instead of theorizing stories, he emphasizes functions of stories in Indigenous cultures that the power of stories can hurt and heal; most importantly, the stories teach humans to build and maintain good relationships with other beings and future generations:

In fact, our stories have been integral to that survival—more than that, they’ve been part of our cultural, political, and familial resurgence and our continuing efforts to maintain our rights and responsibilities in these contested lands. They are good medicine. They remind us about who we are and where we’re going, on our own and in relation to those with whom we share this world. They remind us about the relationships that make good life possible. In short, they matter.7 In other words, Indigenous stories continue to assert the responsibilities and relationships that have connected people to their lands, history, and culture. Similarly, Puyuma scholar Da-chuan

Sun points out that the foremost responsibility for Taiwan Indigenous writers is to “盡其所能描

6 Ebau, See You Again, Eagle (Taipei: Locus Publishing, 2004), 206. My translation.

7 Daniel Heath Justice, Why Indigenous Literatures Matter (Waterloo: Wilfrid Laurier University Press, 2018), 5-6. Emphasis original.

繪並呈現原住民過去、現在與未來之族群經驗、心靈世界以及其共同的夢想” 8 [depict truthfully the past, present and future of tribal experiences, worldview, and shared vision].

Therefore, Indigenous writers have to transform the tribal cultures and ancestral wisdom into “成

為我們思想、行動有機的部分” 9 [a part of our lively thoughts and actions]. Sun also points out that songs, drawings, and ceremonies all tell stories and pass on the tribal cultures and history the same as Indigenous literature does. Echoing the significance of stories for Indigenous people,

Choctaw writer LeAnne Howe coins the term “tribalography” to suggest the continuity and multiplicity of Indigenous stories: “The Native propensity for bringing things together, for making consensus, and for symbiotically connecting one thing to another becomes a theory about the way American Indians tell stories. Oral or written, I have called this genre ‘tribalography.’”10

Tribalography encompasses Indigenous stories in various formats, connects people across time and space, and (re)creates stories of ancestors from experiences and imagination. Therefore, the ancestral voices in The Way to Rainy Mountain and See You Again, Eagle regenerate Indigenous traditions, assert Indigenous identity, and maintain Indigenous presence.

8 Da-chuan Sun 孫大川, “Yuan zhu min wen hua li shi yu xin ling shi jie de mo xie shi lun yuan zhu min wen xue de ke neng 原住民文化歷史與心靈世界的摹寫：試論原住民文學的可能” [The Writing of Indigenous Culture, History, and Spiritual World: A Discussion on the Possibilities of Indigenous Literature], in Tai wan yuan zhu min han yu wen xue xuan ji ping lu juan shang 台灣原住民漢語文學選集：評論卷（上）[Anthology of Taiwanese Indigenous Literature in Han Language: Critical Essays I] ed. Da-chuan Sun 孫大川 (New Taipei City: Ink, 2003), 39. My translation.

9 Sun. 40. My translation.

10 LeAnne Howe, “Blind Bread and the Business of Theory Making, by Embarrassed Grief,” Reasoning Together: The Native Critics Collective (Norman: University of Oklahoma Press, 2008), 330.

Stories of Continuity in The Way to Rainy Mountain

The power of words, imagination, and tribal identity are consistent concerns in

Momaday’s literary works because he considers that stories affirm his Kiowa identity and sustain

Kiowa culture. In The Names: A Memoir (1976), Momaday traces his Kiowa ancestry and explores the influence of the Kiowa stories on his role as a storyteller that he writes, “The first word gives origin to the second, the first and second to the third, the first, second, and third to the forth, and so on. You cannot begin with the second word and tell the story, for the telling of the story is a cumulative process, a chain of becoming, at last of being.”11 Joseph Bruchac observes that the dual purpose of stories is “to both entertain and teach.”12 Therefore, in addition to entertainment, an Indigenous storyteller tells a story that accumulates the history and past experiences of the tribe. Furthermore, the stories told by his grandparents and tribal elders in The

Man Made of Words (1997) make Momaday contemplate the interconnectedness of language, land and identity, and realize that the stories have become a part of who he is: “Those stories became permanent in my mind, the nourishment of my imagination for the whole of my life.”13

As stories have played a crucial part in Momaday’s life and writing, Momaday ponders the role of a storyteller and the meaning of story in Indigenous culture in “The Man Made of Words,” and he points out the responsibility of a storyteller is to use his imagination and to maintain good character:

11 N. Scott Momaday, The Names: A Memoir (Tucson: University of Arizona Press, 1976), 154.

12 Joseph Bruchac, Roots of Survival: Native American Storytelling and the Sacred (Golden: Fulcrum Publishing, 1996), ix.

13 N. Scott Momaday, The Man Made of Words (New York: St. Martin’s Griffin, 1997), 8.

Storytelling is imaginative and creative in nature. It is an act by which man strives to realize his capacity for wonder, meaning and delight. It is also a process in which man invests and preserves himself in the context of ideas. Man tells stories in order to understand his experience, whatever it may be. The possibilities of storytelling are precisely those of understand the human experience… [This] is to say that man achieves the fullest realization of his humanity in such an art and product of the imagination as literature… This is admittedly a moral view of the question, but literature is itself a moral view, and it is a view of morality.14 Rather than reciting a story, a storyteller weaves stories and history to create a narrative that perpetuates the tribal memories and culture, as Momaday does in The Way to Rainy Mountain.

Momaday explains that the spiritual journey back to Rainy Mountain after the passing of his grandmother Aho makes the book possible. He had followed his ancestors from eastern Montana to southwestern Oklahoma. The journey becomes a catalyst for Momaday to reconsider Kiowa culture in the past and today, his individual and tribal identity, and traditional stories of imagination and experience. Even though the journey came to an end, Momaday realizes that the stories must go on because “there is a great persistence in it.”15 As a result, a sense of continuance is demonstrated in the stories in The Way to Rainy Mountain. As there are three sections in the text, the stories of “The Setting Out” trace the creation stories and foreground an understanding of the Kiowa cosmology, and the next two sections, “The Going On” and “The

Closing In” demonstrate the Kiowa ancestors’ insistence on and difficulty of cultural continuity of stories, languages, and ceremonies. As The Way to Rainy Mountain provides both biographical and cultural contexts and reinforces the importance of the tribal identity, imagination, and survival, so the ancestral voices in the stories function as guidance for

14 N. Scott Momaday, “The Man Made of Words,” in Literature of the American Indians: Views and Interpretations, ed. Abraham Chapman (New York: New American Library, 1975), 104.

15 Lawrence J. Evers, “A Conversation with N. Scott Momaday,” in Conversations with N. Scott Momaday, ed. Matthias Schubnell (Jackson: University Press of Mississippi, 1997), 40.

Momaday to understand Kiowa culture and to become an accountable storyteller for the future generations.

The ancestral voices in Indigenous stories are instructive because they empower storytellers to tell the storied experiences, to face struggles, and to be good ancestors for the future generations. In “How Do We Become Good Ancestors,” Justice explicitly points out the significance of being of a good ancestor in Indigenous culture:

We’re the ancestors of future generations, just as the ordinary people of past times became the ancestors to whom we now look for good guidance and cautionary example. We hope that work we do today makes life better for those in the future, but the how of if, especially for those of us who are largely untethered from the cultural continuity of traditions and ceremonies, is a challenge to realize in the everyday.16 In other words, to be a good ancestor for future generations is to sustain tribal traditions, to continue tribal culture, and to emphasize the importance of survival. A good ancestor does not shy away from telling stories of struggles because stories of such kind demonstrate resilience and persistence of ancestors and provide hope and encouragement for their people because “without those ancestors, without their stories, there is nothing to carry forward—there is nothing to bring to future generation.”17 While the voices of ancestors reinforce the significance of the storied relationship that the present and the future generations are able to build upon a good relationship with the ancestors in the past and the future generations, Justice calls attention to the responsibility of the contemporary generation to “[think] of our own work as future ancestors.”18

Indeed, the significance of the ancestral voices lies in continuity of culture, knowledge, and relationships.

16 Justice, Why Indigenous Literatures Matter, 114-115.

17 Justice, 139-140.

18 Justice, 124.

The ancestral voices in “The Setting Out” in The Way to Rainy Mountain emphasize the significance of storytelling because the mythical elements in the stories reinforce the power of language and imagination, two crucial components in Momaday’s writing. The power of language has been Momaday’s recurrent concern because it reflects realities, formulates meanings, and signifies survival: “The spoken word is the means by which [a person] must keep alive his way of life. There is no other possibility of cultural survival.”19 Therefore, the power of language and imagination enriches stories with an alternative worldview and the act of storytelling becomes an ethical practice to envision both the individual and tribal identity, echoing Momaday’s claim that “we are what we imagine ourselves to be.”20 In The Way to Rainy

Mountain, the power of language is demonstrated by a series of Kiowa stories that involve naming and the magic of words. “The Setting Out” begins when the Kiowas come into the world through a hollow log and call themselves “Kwuda, ‘coming out.’”21 In addition to Kwuda, the

Kiowas addressed themselves as Tepda and Gaigwu, meaning coming out and two halves of the same thing but different in appearance, respectively.22 In fact, the Kiowas’s naming of themselves demonstrates the power to use language to define who they are. Furthermore, the language understood both by the Kiowa ancestors and non-human beings demonstrates the crucial idea of language producing power and the close relationship humans share with other

19 Momaday, The Man Made of Words, 29.

20 Momaday, 39.

21 Momaday, The Way to Rainy Mountain, 16.

22 The idea of the same thing with two halves are observed in two pairs of brothers in two stories, VII and XI. Robert L. Berner considers that the human brother in the latter story separates from the natural world, the monster brother, and becomes a Kiowa. See Robert L. Berner, “N. Scott Momaday: Beyond Rainy Mountain,” American Indian Culture and Research Journal 3, no. 1 (1979): 57-67.

40 beings. In the story that explains the reciprocal relationship between the Kiowas and dogs, the dog said to the Kiowas who were surrounded by enemies, “If you will take care of my puppies, I will show you how to get away.”23 Therefore, the Kiowas were saved by the dog by mutual agreement. As a caring elder, the grandmother spider sang to the sun’s child who was alone on earth, “Go to sleep and do not cry,”24 and the grandmother spider took care of the child as if he were her own. When a hungry Kiowa came a long way to search for food to feed his people, a mysterious creature, with the feet of a deer and covered with feathers, said, “Take me with you, and I will give you whatever you want.”25 Therefore, the sacred Tai-me has been with the

Kiowas since. Interestingly, the non-human beings are not considered different from or inferior to humans; rather, they are companions, elders, providers, and protectors for humans in these stories. The mythical elements may be entertaining; in fact, they are educational because they reinforce the concept of all-my-relations and the significance of maintaining good relations with one another in Native culture. From naming themselves to building reciprocal relationships, the voices of the Kiowa ancestors demonstrate the power of language, magic of imagination in storytelling, and interconnectedness with other beings.

In addition to the power of language and mythic elements, the ancestral voices in the stories of “The Going On” demonstrate the survival of Kiowas and Kiowa values because they convey wisdom for overcoming difficulties. While the Kiowa ancestors received help from non- human beings in “The Setting Out,” the stories in “The Going On” are about Kiowa ancestors’ ability to recognize danger and apply strategies to survive. Observation and collaboration are

23 Momaday, The Way to Rainy Mountain, 20.

24 Momaday, 26.

25 Momaday, 36.

41 important in the stories related to survival. For instance, in one of the stories, an old man found out that his home was surrounded by hungry enemies who demanded food: “If you will feed us all, we will not harm you.”26 Therefore, the old man’s wife cooked for the enemies while waiting for her husband’s signal to kill them because the husband did not believe the promise of the enemies. The collaboration of the husband and wife successfully defeats the enemies and keeps the family safe from the threat. In “The Arrowmaker,” one of the most discussed stories in

Momaday’s writing, an experienced arrow maker, after noticing someone was outside of his tent, asked his wife to remain calm so that he could find out if the stranger was a threat. Then, the husband spoke in Kiowa, “If you are a Kiowa, you will understand what I am saying, and you will speak your name.”27 Because there was no response from the stranger, the husband killed the stranger, knowing that the stranger was not Kiowa and was likely an enemy. In the two stories mentioned above, the Kiowa ancestors did not depend on supernatural power but their cultural knowledge to overcome difficulties to survive. As lessons about keen observation and collaboration are crucial in these stories, punishment is necessary for people who disregard the importance of cooperation and mutual support. In another story, a young hunter was reckless with other Kiowa hunters and was punished by wind and became blind. Without the ability to hunt, the blind man was left with his wife and children. One day, the husband heard a herd of buffalo passing and asked for arrows and bow so that he could kill buffalo to provide for his family. The blind husband successfully shot several buffalo, but his wife lied to him that he had missed the shots because she was too tired to take care of a blind person. The wife then ran away with her children and the buffalo meat, leaving the blind husband alone in winter. The blind

26 Momaday, 44.

27 Momaday, 46.

42 husband was rescued by a group of Kiowas and was brought to their camp where he recognized the voice of his wife telling a story about him being killed by enemies. After the truth was revealed, the woman was thrown away by the Kiowas because she was a bad woman. In the story, the blind man is punished for being “wild and reckless”28 because his compulsion during hunting would jeopardize the fellow hunters. His wife, the bad woman, is punished for lying and avoiding the responsibility of taking care of the one in need. Both the blind husband and the bad woman are punished for their lack of Kiowa ethics. In addition to the knowledge of survival acquired by accumulated observation and experiences, the ancestral voices in “The Going On” outline the ethics valued in Kiowa culture: trustworthiness, loyalty, and modesty.

Different from the sense of confidence in the previous section, the stories about horses in

“The Closing In” show a sense of loss and defeat of Kiowa culture because they can be read as an example of the decline of power and freedom of the Kiowas. In “How do we become good ancestors?” Justice points out that the past carries both wisdom and sometimes suffering; however, the stories of struggle reflect the ancestors’ experiences and teach the future generation to cope with difficulties: “Indigenous peoples have storied our experience to empower the struggle of the present and to make the truth of struggle clear to future generations.”29 The stories of horses in The Way to Rainy Mountain indeed showcase the ancestors’ struggles. Horses have played a significant role in Kiowa culture. According to the Kiowa stories, the ancestors made a horse with clay: “they began to shape the clay with their hands.”30 Therefore, the relationship

28 Momaday, 58.

29 Justice, Why Indigenous Literatures Matter, 118.

30 Momaday, The Way to Rainy Mountain, 48.

43 between horses and the Kiowas are inseparable as Momaday says, “the horse became the extension of my senses.”31 Horses indeed made freedom possible for the Kiowa ancestors possible, and they became an important aid to hunting, just as James Mooney writes: “With the horse [the Kiowa] was transformed into the daring buffalo hunter.”32 In other words, horses have been the symbol of freedom, power and prosperity in Kiowa culture. However, the declining number of horses indicates the loss of Kiowa culture in “The Closing In.” For example, the historical account of a Pawnee boy’s stealing one of the finest hunting horses suggests the diminishing in strength of the Kiowas. Because the Kiowas were known for their warrior culture and horses were indispensable in their daily life, the captive’s running away with a fine hunting horse saddened the Kiowas: “the loss of that horse was a hard thing to bear.”33 The Kiowas were disheartened by the loss of the horse; moreover, they mourned for the dwindling warrior culture because they seemed to lose the survival skills such as keen observation and collaboration over time. In addition, diseases and lack of food sources led to the declining Kiowa warrior culture. In

The Way to Rainy Mountain. Momaday writes, “Later in [1861] an epidemic of smallpox broke out in the tribe, and the old man Gaapiatan sacrificed one of his best horses, a fine-eared animal, that he and his family might be spared.”34 The smallpox epidemic of 1861 was not the first epidemic the Kiowas had experienced; the smallpox epidemic of 1780-1782 diminished the

31 Momaday, The Man Made of Words, 77.

32 Momaday, The Way to Rainy Mountain, 61. In The Way to Rainy Mountain, Momaday includes three excerpts from Calendar History of the Kiowa Indians (1898) written by Mooney (1861-1921), an American ethnographer of the nineteenth century, to provide a historical perspective of the Kiowas.

33 Momaday, 77.

34 Momaday, 71.

Plains Indians by one third of the population, the 1837 Great Plains smallpox epidemic devasted the Natives and altered the power structures of the impacted tribes, and the recurrence of the disease in 1861-1862 ravaged the Kiowas.35 In order to shield the community from the disastrous disease, the old man sought help from Tai-me, and sacrificed one of the most valuable items: a horse. Empathizing with the old man Gaapiatan, Momaday writes as if he were the old man, “If you will give me my life and the lives of my family, I will give you the life of this black-eared horse.”36 Seeking the supernatural aid as the last resort indicates the Kiowa’s desperation in such a helpless situation. Furthermore, the Battle of Palo Duro Canyon between the Southern Plain

Indians and the U.S. Army in 1874 resulted in the loss of the Native’s winter food supply and horses, for “nearly 800 horses were killed outright; two thousand more were sold, stolen, given away.”37 Without supplies and food sources, the Kiowas “were obliged to kill and eat their ponies during the summer to save themselves from starving,” writes Mooney.38 From being an important aid to hunting and expansion to being reduced to the meat to sustain human lives, horses indeed indicate the hardship of the Kiowa ancestors: the expansion of the Euro-

35 The 1780-82 Northern Great Plains smallpox epidemic was a part of 1775-1782 epidemic. See Colin G. Calloway, ed., Our Hearts Fell to the Ground: Plains Indians View of How the West Was Lost (Boston: St. Martin’s, 1996), and George E. Hyde, Indians of the High Plains: From the Prehistoric Period to the coming of Europeans (Norman: University of Oklahoma Press, 1959).

36 Momaday, The Way to Rainy Mountain, 71.

37 Momaday, 67. The Battle of Palo Duro Canyon represents the Plain Indians’ last effort to resist the colonization of the U.S. government. The battle was known as the major battle of the Red River War (1974-1975), which was to relocate the Southern Plains, including the Comanche, Cheyenne, Arapaho and Kiowa, to reservations in the Indian Territory. See William Leckie, The Military Conquest of the Southern Plains (Norman: University of Oklahoma Press, 1963).

38 Momaday, 67.

Americans, the smallpox epidemics, and the diminishing Kiowa society. The stories of suffering, in fact, demonstrate “the fierce, desperate hope and relentless insistence”39 of the Kiowa ancestors, striving for the continuity of culture.

While The Way to Rainy Mountain may seem to end in a sense of nostalgia or defeat, the ancestral voices in fact demonstrate the hope and perseverance of the Kiowa ancestors to survive hardship and affirm Kiowa identity. The stories of Tai-me, especially, assert the Kiowa religious belief, and reinforce the continuity of tribal culture.40 Tai-me holds profound significance in

Kiowa culture because its story traces back to the origin of the tribe and the assistance the Kiowa ancestors received from the half-animal and half-human mythical creature that represents the spiritual presence of the Sun. Because of its sacredness, the Tai-me is kept under wraps and can only be seen at the Sun Dance, an annual summer indoor ceremony to celebrate renewed life and the return of the bison herds.41 The bundle is a two-foot-tall human figure covered with feathers and beads, and “it is preserved in a rawhide box in charge of the hereditary keeper,”42 who has to

39 Justice, Why Indigenous Literatures Matter, 115.

40 Momaday published The Journey of Tai-me in 1967 in which he explores the Kiowa heritage and stories after the death of his grandmother, Aho. The book is considered as the basis of The Way to Rainy Mountain. The University of New Mexico Press reprinted The Journey of Tai-me in 2010 for interested readers.

41 The Sun Dance was held inside of a lodge while the Buffalo Dance was performed outdoors. The whole tribe gathered for the religious ceremonies to show their respect and send spiritual power to Tai-me. Like the potlatch of the Pacific Northwest Natives, the Sun Dance was one of the prohibited ceremonies, and its last ceremony was held in 1888. Because of its sacredness and exclusivity, the details of the Sun Dance and the Buffalo Dance are seldom revealed to non-Natives. The existing materials are mostly collected by anthropologists and ethnologists. See Hugh Lenox Scott, “Notes on the Kado, or Sun Dance of the Kiowa,” American Anthropologist 13, no. 3 (July-September 1911): 345-379.

42 Momaday, The Way to Rainy Mountain, 37.

46 be an honorable member of the tribe. The bundle, though not very big, is very powerful, such that “if anyone who wore a medicine bundle failed to show it the proper respect, it grew extremely heavy around his neck.”43 Momaday recalls the first time he saw the Tai-me bundle that “there was a great holiness all about the room.”44 In “How do we become good ancestors?”

Justice explains that proper respect to the ancestors indicates the acknowledgement for the interconnectedness: “Giving proper respect to the ancestors isn’t just good manners, it’s also good sense for the course of one’s own life, as any harm introduced into the network of relationships will affect every participant, living and dead alike.”45 Therefore, to respect the Tai- me bundle is to honor Kiowa history, and the close relationship with the land and bison herds that provided food for the Kiowas. In The Way to Rainy Mountain, Momaday utilizes the tribal elder Ko-sahn’s memories about the Sun Dance to emphasize the continuity of stories, ceremonies, and culture. When Ko-sahn speaks of her memories of the Sun Dance, she begins with a dear childhood memory about everyone’s participation in the ceremony that “everyone went out to see and to pray.”46 Ko-sahn observed that different responsibilities were allocated to different people, some singing, some dancing, and others preparing needed items for the ceremony. No matter who they were, “they wore splendid things—beautiful buckskin and beads.”47 Finally, Ko-sahn exclaims, “That was the beginning of the Sun Dance. It was all for

43 Momaday 81.

44 Momaday, 37.

45 Justice, Why Indigenous Literatures Matter, 124

46 Momaday, The Way to Rainy Mountain, 86.

47 Momaday, 88.

Tai-me, you know, and it was a long time ago.”48 Even though the Sun Dance ceremony was last performed in 1888, as one of the last few witnesses, Ko-sahn indeed passes along the significance of Tai-me and Sun Dance in stories, that they may be forever remembered by Kiowa descendants. Her memories remind Kiowa descendants of the Kiowa cosmology, the close relationship with other beings, and, most importantly, the Kiowa ancestral voices of history and culture. The voices of the ancestors function as “the repository of whole knowledge”49 for the future generations.

The ancestral voices in The Way to Rainy Mountain not only emphasize the continuity of

Kiowa culture, stories, and ceremonies but also charge the future generations with maintaining the continuity and relationships with the Kiowa ancestors. Momaday, as a storyteller, accentuates the importance of stories, the sacredness of language, and the power of imagination. More importantly, these stories and memories help Momaday to understand the Kiowa ancestors, teach him the Kiowa history and affirm his Kiowa identity. Considering the importance of Kiowa stories, land and people, Momaday explains that the journey is an evocation of “a landscape that is incomparable, a time that is gone forever, and the human spirit, which endures.”50 The Way to

Rainy Mountain presents the journey of Kiowa ancestors and affirms the living relationships between him and the past generations, echoing the sense of continuity about which Justice writes, “the ancestors aren’t separated from the living by an impermeable barrier between life and death; no linear path from life to death exists.”51 Momaday uses the word “noon” in both the

48 Momaday, 88.

49 Momaday, The Man Made of Words, 11.

50 Momaday, The Way to Rainy Mountain, 4.

51 Justice, Why Indigenous Literatures Matter, 126.

48 opening poem, “Headwaters,” and ending poem, “Rainy Mountain Cemetery” in The Way to

Rainy Mountain to indicate the Kiowa history, cosmology and a sense of continuity. The noon suggests “a time of great adventure and nobility and fulfillment”52which Gus Palmer Jr. considers “a Golden Age of the Kiowa people.”53 The use of noon reiterates the prominence of sun, buffalo, and the Sun Dance in Kiowa culture because buffalo are not only the representation of sun but also the sacrificial animal of the Sun Dance. Moreover, Momaday begins

“Headwaters” with “Noon in the intermountain plain,”54 and ends “Rainy Mountain Cemetery” with “And silence is the long approach of noon/ Upon the shadow that your names defines.”55

Echoing Chadwick Allen’s careful interpretation of Momaday’s “Carnegie, Oklahoma, 1919” that the poem transcends the temporal and spatial boundary because Momaday begins the poem with a specific time, 1919, and place, Oklahoma, and he ends the poem with “I am here,” in which he concludes that “distinctions among the past, the present, and possibly the future are collapsed.”56 The use of noon in the two poems in The Rainy Mountain indeed evokes a sense of continuity of stories and culture of Kiowa ancestors and accentuates Kiowa identity. Palmer comments on the Kiowa way of telling stories reinforces their relationships with Kiowa history and place: “The journey they recalled in story continues to be recalled today, and the journey

52 Momaday, The Way to Rainy Mountain, 3.

53 Gus Palmer Jr., Telling Stories the Kiowa Way (Tucson: The University of Arizona of Press, 2003), 4.

54 Momaday, 2.

55 Momaday, 89.

56 Chadwick Allen, Trans-Indigenous: Methodologies for Global Native Literary Studies (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 2012), 114.

49 legend is reinforced with every telling.”57 Momaday as a responsible storyteller for the future generations incorporates the ancestral voices into his writing and emphasizes the continuity of

Kiowa culture. Momaday explains the importance of the past intertwined in his stories in the preface to The Way to Rainy Mountain:

The journey herein recalled continues to be made anew each time the miracle comes to mind, for that is peculiarly the right and responsibility of the imagination. It is a whole journey, intricate with motion and meaning; and it is made with the whole memory, that experience of the mind which is legendary as well as historical, personal as well as cultural. And the journey is an evocation and three things in particular: a landscape that is incomparable, a time that is gone forever, and the human spirit, which endures. The imaginative experience and the historical express equally the traditions of man’s reality. Finally, then, the journey recalled is among other things the revelation of one way in which these traditions are conceived, developed, and interfused in the human mind.58

In other words, Momaday’s journey to Rainy Mountain is infused with and informed by the

Kiowa ancestral voices that tell stories of suffering and survival, and the stories, as Justice notes, provide “guidance for thinking of our own works as future ancestors. The ancestral voices in The

Way to Rainy Mountain underscore Momaday’s concerns about language, stories, and imagination; moreover, by weaving the ancestral voices into the text, Momaday provides readers a chance to build a relationship with the past as well as the future. His approach to being a good ancestor is to honor the past, recognize hardship, and continue to thrive.

Stories of Remembrance in Ebau’s See You Again, Eagle

Just as the voices of Kiowa ancestors accentuate the continuity of culture, worldview, and identity in Momaday’s The Way to Rainy Mountain, so the Paiwan malada’s stories represent a sense of belonging and healing in Ebau’s See You Again, Eagle. Ebau has expressed the desire of finding home in her previous writings. In her first published writing, “田野記情 (一)” [The Field

57 Palmer Jr., 4.

58 Momaday, The Way to Rainy Mountain, 4.

50 of Love, 1] she mourns for the death of her dear friend A-sa, and dreams about A-sa shouting

“帶我回家，帶我回家” 59 [Bring me home. Bring me home] in the dream. In “田野記情二--小

米月” [The Field of Love, 2-- The Month of Millets,] the tribal elder calls to her ailing friend,

“回家—回家—回家—和我一起走”60 [Come home. Come home. Come home. Come with me.]

Finally, Ebau dreams about returning home to visit her sick sister in “最後的祭師” [The Last

Malada] in which she writes, “我終於找到家的路”61 [I finally find the way home]. The fact that home is associated with sickness or death implies isolation and pessimism in Ebau’s stories because Ebau finds people, old and young, passing away every time she returns home. Therefore, the association of home, sickness, and death indeed indicates Ebau’s fear of witnessing a dying culture and community—a vanishing home. Similar to Bevis’s argument that the plot of leaving implies isolation for Natives in literature, Ebau’s passive perspective is derived from a sense of isolation because she leaves the community to find disconnection from Paiwan culture rather

59 Ebau 伊苞, “Tian ye ji qing yi 田野記情(一)” [The Field of Love] Shan hai wen hua Shuang yue kan 山海文化雙月刊 [Taiwan Indigenous Voice Bimonthly] 8 (January 1995), 78. My translation.

60 Ebau 伊苞, “Tian ye ji qing er xio mi yue 田野記情(二)—小米月” Shan hai wen hua Shuang yue kan 山海文化雙月刊 [Taiwan Indigenous Voice Bimonthly] 9 (March 1995), 70. My translation.

61 Ebau 伊苞, “Zui hou de ji shi 最後的祭師” [The Last Malada] Shan hai wen hua Shuang yue kan 山海文化雙月刊 [Taiwan Indigenous Voice Bimonthly] 23, 24 (August 1995), 78. My translation. In addition to the three works mentioned above, Ebau’s “Muwakai 慕娃凱” is about the Paiwan creation story and contemporary same-sex love story of the female character, Muwakai. Ebau is the only Taiwan Indigenous writer who identifies herself as a lesbian in the broad contemporary Taiwanese literature. There are rare examples of Indigenous LGBTQ in Taiwanese literature and films. Alifu, The Prince/ss 阿莉芙 in 2017 is the first film addressing Indigenous LGBTQ groups in the Taiwanese society. Shan di hua 山地話/珊蒂化 [Indigenous] in 2020 is another prose collection written by 馬翊航[Yi-hang Ma], a gay Puyuma writer.

51 than the individual success. As a result, Ebau hopes that by joining the Circling the Mt. Kailash pilgrimage in Tibet will help her find peace of mind.62 Recalling the influence of the trip to Tibet in her life, Ebau explains how she is flooded with childhood memories and Paiwan stories during the trip:

我要去西藏前，我沒有想過要寫成一本書，也沒想過路途上部落家鄉的回憶會湧現。前往西藏的路途上，環境相當惡劣，一下子太陽很好，等一下風一吹、下雨又變了，過沒多久太陽又出現。… 還有高山症，讓我的動作都很慢，讓我開始思考，很多東西就會跑進腦袋中。一個人面對自己的呼吸，不是很順暢而有困難時，很原始的東西就會浮現，當我一坐下來，家鄉的回憶馬上出現。…所有家鄉回憶，就像情節，又從我眼前走過一遍。63 [I had never thought of writing a book before I visited Tibet, and I had never expected to remember things about my tribal home during the trip. The weather was pretty bad on the way to Tibet. It was sunny for a while and then windy, and then rainy, and the sunny again […] No to mention altitude sickness that made me move so slowly that I started to think, and more thoughts came to my mind. When I heard my own breathing, not so smooth but with difficulty, so many early memories start to manifest. When I sat down, the memories about my hometown emerged … All the memories about home, like a movie, presenting them in my mind’s eye.]

Unexpectedly, the trip to Tibet becomes Ebau’s spiritual return to Paiwan culture. The Tibetan religious stories trigger Ebau’s memories of the Paiwan stories, the sacred mountain reminds her

62 Circling the Sacred Mt. Kailash is considered one of the most important pilgrimages in Tibet. Because of its religious significance, people can only honor the mountain by taking the circling route rather than climbing it. The length of the route is approximately thirty-three miles which usually cost people average three days to complete the circle. Some pious Tibetans would take the practice of three-step-one-bow that would prolong the time of completion. Recently more and more travelers from around the world participate the spiritual journey because it is believed that the more times people complete the circling, the more good karma would befall on them and their family.

63 Yi-miao Lin 林宜妙, “Dadelavan Ebau fang wen gao” 達德拉瓦•伊苞訪問稿 [Interview with Dadelavan Ebau] (March 31, 2009). My translation. http://dore.tacp.gov.tw/dorefile//00/00/ng.pdf

52 of kavulungan, also known as Mount Da-wu, where Paiwan ancestors were from, and the chanting of the Six-Character Great Bright Mantra recalls the voices of tribal maladas.64

Interestingly, as Ebau says, “我會來西藏，最大的因素是跟神話有關，我在神話中長大，我

一直相信著，神話是人類最原始的智慧”65 [The major reason for me to visit Tibet is myths. I grew up listening to stories, and I have always believed that stories represent the primary wisdom of humankind]. See You Again, Eagle, in addition to functioning as a travelogue, indeed serves as a memoir for Ebau to honor Paiwan culture and stories. As the trip to Tibet is to find a sense of peace, the spiritual journey to Paiwan culture through stories affirms a sense of belonging.

The ancestral voices in maladas’ stories, rather than suggesting a dwindling culture, provide a sense of healing, empower Ebau to reconnect with Paiwan culture and assert Paiwan identity.

Maladas, the female shamans, play a crucial part in Paiwan culture and in See You Again,

Eagle because they are important mediators for ancestors to communicate with decedents, they carry the cultural responsibility to protect cultural heritage and activities, and they provide guidance for their people in different stages of life. A malada does not inherit the title and the

64 Kavulungan, meaning the mother of all mountains in Paiwan, is located between Pingtung County and Taitung County. It is the highest mountain (10144 ft) of the southern Central Mountain Range, the longest range (211 miles) in Taiwan. Culturally, Kavulungan is the sacred mountain for tribes of Paiwan and Rukai because both tribes have lived and hunted in the area for hundreds of years and there are creation stories that tell the significance of the mountain. The mountain plays an important role for the Paiwans because it is where the Paiwan ancestors are from and return to. Furthermore, the Paiwan Maleveq, Five-year Ceremony, which takes place every five years, is to honor the Paiwan ancestors and Kavulungan. The Six-Character Great Bright Mantra, Om Mani Padme Hum, represents wisdom, kindness, etiquette, equality, happiness and empathy. It is believed that the diligent chanting of the mantra would bring peace and wisdom to the chanter.

65 Ebau, See You Again, Eagle, 153-154. My translation. 神話 in Taiwanese Mandarin is loosely translated as “words of gods” because a myth is a story about supernatural beings. Myth and story are interchangeable in Taiwanese Mandarin. The use of myth in Ebau’s interview does not bear a derogatory implication; rather, the interview indicates the religious perspective of the Tibetan stories.

53 responsibility; rather, a female has to prove that she is the chosen one by Paiwan ancestors with the manifestation of a za’u,66 a bead-like object symbolizing the ancestors’s approval. The appearance of a za’u is inexplicable. According to tribal oral stories, some were born with za’u in their hands, others have dreams about receiving za’u, and others receive za’u in the open or within a household. With the appearance of za’u, the female is qualified to learn the knowledge of being a malada. Because of the special connection to and the ability to communicate with ancestors, a malada, besides performing rituals, is responsible for interpreting dreams, inviting good fortunes and casting away bad omens. No matter what the problem is, a malada is a pillar of strength, providing guidance and support for the tribe. However, the colonial past, and changes of lifestyle and religion endangers the malada culture, resulting in less and less chosen ones agree to take on the task of being maladas, and the unique Paiwan malada tradition is regarded as a form superstition with little value. As a result, to revive the Paiwan malada culture has become an important task for Paiwan people. For example, Hsin-wen Chiu, the malada of

Ta-ban Village started the Malada Training Program in 2007 in order to sustain the Paiwan malada culture. The program invites people of all tribes to learn the Paiwan language, culture, and ceremonies. In order to successfully conduct ceremonies, each malada has to memorize the complex hierarchy of spirits and the related sutras. Besides knowing her community well, a malada’s task includes researching “從古到今的傳說、史蹟” 67 [the folklores and historical

66 Za’u or zaqu looks like a soapberry seed, and it is used mainly in three occasions: to choose the parakalai, the male priest, to ask for reasons of bad omen, and to protect evil spirits when conducting funerals. Not all who learn the knowledge of being a malada is given a za’u. The person has to be the chosen one. If the chosen one refuses to be a malada, it is believed that bad luck would befall upon the person and her family.

67 Hsiu-hui Li 李修慧, “Pai wan zu xian dai nu wu de cheng wu zhi lu” 排灣族現代女巫的成巫之路 [The Path of Becoming a Contemporary Paiwan Malada], Guan jian ping lun 關鍵評論 (April 17, 2018). My translation. https://www.thenewslens.com/article/90951

54 accounts from the past to the present] so as to be a responsible mediator. Though being a malada is honorable, a malada does not take such privilege for granted because she considers herself as a vassal transmitting messages for ancestors as one malada says, “不是我，而是神祖靈在唱” 68

[Not my singing; it’s cemas singing] after singing sutras continuously and effortlessly for hours.

Therefore, reviving the Paiwan malada culture is to reconnect with cemas and to relearn the

Paiwan stories and stories for maladas. Similarly, the Paiwans are given opportunities to communicate with the ancestors through maladass stories, visions, and dreams.

The ancestral voices in maladas’ stories, including visions, dreams, and histories, emphasize the cultural continuity, and create narratives that empower storytelling. Choctaw scholar LeAnne Howe introduces the concept of tribalography to explain the power of

Indigenous stories in “Tribalography: The Power of Native Stories”:

The study of tribalography is advanced by first looking at how Indian people made story from events and non-events. Secondly, by examining how the oral tradition and written texts are a symbiosis of Old World and New World, it becomes evident that Native authors are important to expanding our understanding of story at the beginning of the new millennium.69 Later, in Howe reiterates the importance of Native stories in shaping the histories of America in

“The Story of America: A Tribalography” that “tribalography comes from the Native propensity

68 Academia Sinica 中央研究院研之有物編輯, Yan zhi you wu chuan yue gu jin zhong yan yuan de 25 tang ren wen gong kai ke” [What do Contemporary Indigenous Shamans do?] 研之有物：穿越古今！中研院的 25 堂人文公開課 [Materialism from Past to the Present: Twenty- Five Open Access Humanities Classes of Academia Sinica] (Taipei: Aquarius Publishing, 2018), 182. My translation. The Paiwan religion is polytheist. Cemas in Paiwan language is referred to deities, ghosts, spirits and ancestors. When a malada is invested in performing a ceremony, she becomes entranced and not able to control her body. It is believed that the malada’s body is occupied, or possessed, by cemas to deliver messages.

69 LeAnne Howe, “Tribalography: The Power of Native Stories,” Journal of Dramatic Theory and Criticism (Fall 1999), 118.

55 for bringing things together, for making consensus, and for symbiotically connecting one thing to another.”70 That is to say, tribalography as a methodology indeed emphasizes on multifaceted connections and encourages reciprocal responsibility in stories. Furthermore, Anishinaabe scholar Jill Doerfler contends the application of tribalography may help her formulate her study of “An Anishinaabe Tribalography”:

Tribalography is a method that scholars can use to tell stories that are not isolated, objective accounts of the past but weave together a variety of sources and perspectives to create useful stories that engage with AIS and “traditional” disciplines, Native and non- Native scholars, and academia and tribal communities. This is precisely the type of project I undertook in “An Anishinaabe Tribalography.”71 Similar to Doefler’s take on tribalography, Sun points out that Indigenous stories that blend myths, histories, rituals and ceremonies together cannot be regarded as “蠻荒的記憶”72

[memories of primitivism]. Rather, these stories provide “一個集體信仰… 一套禁忌系統，一

套宗教儀節… 形成一個民族內在的神聖秩序”73 [a collective belief …, a set of taboos, and a set of religious rituals … that form a set of sacred structure for the people]. That is to say, both

Doefler and Sun scrutinize the importance of Indigenous stories and conclude that Indigenous stories provide alternative perspectives on histories and worldviews just like maladas’ stories tell

70 LeAnne Howe, “The Story of America: A Tribalography,” in Clearing a Path: Theorizing the Past in Native American Studies, ed. Nancy Shoemaker (New York: Routledge, 2002), 42.

71 Jill Doerfler, “Making It Work: A Model of Tribalography as Methodology,” Studies in American Indian Literature 26, no.2 (Summer 2014), 68.

72 Sun Da-chuan 孫大川, Shan hai shi jie tai wan yuan zhu min xin ling shi jie de mo xie 山海世界：台灣原住民心靈世界的摹寫 [World of Mountain and Ocean: The Depiction of the Taiwan Indigenous People’s Inner World] (Taipei: Unitas Publishing, 2000), 193. My translation.

73 Sun, 187. My translation.

56 the Paiwan specific history and culture in See You Again, Eagle. Furthermore, echoing Justice’s argument that being a good ancestor is to be the guidance for the future generations, maladas’ stories in indeed present interactions and conflicts between Paiwans and non-Paiwan people, and create a narrative that brings the past, present and future together. The ancestral voices in See

You Again, Eagle demonstrate the responsibility of a good ancestor, affirming the continuity of

Paiwan culture and knowledge, and honoring the inseparable connection with the ancestors.

Just like Tibetan religious stories foster Ebau to the pilgrimage, so Paiwan stories in See

You Again, Eagle remind Ebau of the sacred landscape of Mount Da-wu in her hometown.

According to the Tibetan religious stories, Mount Kailash is home to several deities and holy spirits; therefore, the ritual of circling the sacred mountain on foot brings good fortune and merit to one’s family and afterlife: “據說神山轉一圈，可以洗盡一生罪孽”74 [It is believed that one would wash away sins if circling the mountain once in the lifetime]. As a result, pious pilgrims from all over the world honor the gods and the grandeur of the mountain by taking the strenuous trekking route and immerse themselves in the power of the spiritual belief of the mountain.

Witnessing the pilgrims’ firm belief, Ebau recalls the sacred landscape surrounding Mount Da- wu, including the geological setting, creation storiess, and connectedness to the mountain:

我的家鄉有一座山叫大武山，我們稱大武山叫 Kavulungan。大拇指的排灣話也叫 Kavulungan。意思是山中之山，眾山之母。同時大武山也是創造神的所在地。75

我家鄉的河流，大大小小都有名字，撒渡姑居住在河流的源頭，她是織布女神。撒拉法恩是照管人類出生的神，她唱歌造人，以及居住在撒渡姑下游的山裡，圍繞部

74 Ebau, See You Again, Eagle, 153. My translation. Mount Kailash is sacred to four religions, including Hinduism, Buddhism, Tibetan Bon, and Indian Jain Dharma. The mountain is unclimbable because of its religious significance that the divine energies should not be disturbed. See Robert Thurman, and Tad Wise, Circling the Sacred Mountain: A Spiritual Adventure Through the Himalayas (New York: Bantam Books, 1999).

75 Ebau, 127. My translation.

落的山各有神靈居住著，撒慕阿該、媽渡姑渡姑，居住森林的神靈，充滿各種神話傳說。部落老人家要上山砍一棵樹，他會先稟報居住山林的神靈以及大武山的神，告訴他們，他將前往山林砍樹，並無冒犯之意，然後對著樹說，我把你帶走是因為我要建蓋我的房子，我的家需要你當樑柱，好讓我的家人有遮風擋雨的地方。76 [There is a mountain, Mount Da-wu, in my hometown which we call Kavulungan. The thumb in Paiwan is also called Kavulungan. So [Mount Da-wu] is the mountain of all mountains, the creator of all mountains, and it is where the na qemati live.

All the rivers and creeks in my hometown have names. Sadugu, the goddess of weaving, lives in the headwater of rivers. Salafaen, the goddess of protecting births, creates lives with singing and dwells in the mountains down the river. Each mountain houses a specific deity such as Samuagai or Madugudugu. So many deities in the mountains; so many creation stories. When a tribal elder need to chop down a tree, he would talk to na qemati and cemas that he is about to take down a tree without offense. Afterwards, he would tell the tree that the reason why he brings the tree away [from where she stands] is because she is needed to build a home and to be a pillar so that his family have a shelter.]

Just as Mount Kailash is holy to pilgrims, so the sacredness of Mount Da-wu lies in providing food and material resources as well as spiritual guidance and protection for the Paiwans.

Furthermore, Mount Da-wu is where all lives come from and where spirits of ancestors return to.

Unfortunately, the colonialism during the Japanese Occupation period (1895-1945), the introduction of Western religions, and the prejudiced policies against Indigenous people after the arrival of the Kuomingtan government (1949) have brought changes of lifestyle and belittled the significance of Mount Da-wu.77 For example, when a Paiwan passes away, the body is clothed in

76 Ebau, 54. My translation. In Paiwan culture, the na qemati is the greatest deity that creates the world and all forms of life. In the original text, Ebau uses 創造神 which is loosely translated as creator in English. I use na qemati in Paiwan in the translation to avoid the confusion with the Creator in Christianity and also to honor the Paiwan language.

77 Even though the Japanese government started to establish schools for the Taiwan Indigenous people in the early twentieth century, the purpose of education was to teach Indigenous tribes skills of land cultivation and handcraft. Gradually, the Japanese government intervened the tribal organization and sovereignty by appointing tribal leaders, disregarding tribal specific customs. After the arrival of the Kuomintang government, different Indigenous tribes were renamed as Mountain People on official documents, and they were given different house names or last names. Worse, the government claimed vast amount of hunting grounds and tribal lands by forcing and tricking Indigenous people to sign contracts. For example, the so-called fish

58 a traditional garment, put in a crouching position with the head facing Mount Da-wu, and buried at home with layers of slates and soil. However, during the Japanese Occupation period, the

Japanese government forbade Paiwan-styled funeral because it was considered unsanitary. The introduction of Christianity urged tribal members to convert to the monotheism and to give up the belief in cemas, na qemati, and maladas. Moreover, Ebau recalls more and more tribal member left for jobs in factories or construction sites so as to make more money than working as hunter-gatherers in the 1970s. As a result, “已經少有人願意再待在山上工作，大家都不願意

曝曬在陽光下”78 [very few of Paiwans are willing to stay in the mountains because they are not willing to be exposed to sunlight]. Followed by the lack of the connections to the sacred landscape and decreasing interactions with tribal maladas, more and more Paiwans have gradually forgotten the Paiwan stories and disconnected with Paiwan cultures. Ebau draws the parallel to Mount Kailash and Mount Da-wu in terms of cultural significance and sacredness during the pilgrimage; however, she is saddened by the fact that while Mount Kailash becomes a religious symbol, Mount Da-wu has seemed to lose its importance for the Paiwans: “如果沒有殖

民，如果有堅持，我是不是也是大武山的朝聖者”79 [If colonialism had not happened, if our

cannery on Ponso no Tao, or Orchid Island, home to the Tao people was in fact designed as a nuclear waste storage in 1970s. The Tao people had not been aware of it until the truth was revealed in 1982. The site stopped functioning in 1992; however, the existing waste still remains on the island. In October 2016, the president Eng-wen Tsai reopened the related investigation on hazardous waste on Ponso no Tao and demanded compensation for the Taos in July 2018. The history of the Taiwan Indigenous people as mentioned above can be compared to the history of the Native Americans such as boarding school in the mid-nineteenth century, the Dawes Act (1887), and environmental injustice on the tribal lands in the twentieth century.

78 Ebau, See You Again, Eagle, 19. My translation.

79 Ebau, 159. My translation.

59 people had persisted, could I have been a pilgrim of Mount Da-wu]. It may seem that Ebau laments the lost glory of Mount Da-wu; on the other hand, the painful memories indeed reconnect and remind her of the importance of the creation stories and the landscape of Paiwan culture and ancestors.

Maladas’ stories play a crucial role during Ebau’s pilgrimage because their voices help

Ebau overcome the physically challenge journey and provide spiritual comfort through difficulties. The long distance (33 miles) and high elevation (16000 ft) of the pilgrimage challenge each pilgrim’s physical capacity: muscle ache, shortness of breath, insomnia, and fatigue, to name a few. The physical discomfort resulting from altitude sickness and the cold temperature make Ebau think of leaving and death. Ebau remembers that when a person leaves home, vuvus would consider leaving a form of death because “離別是死亡的其中一個面孔”80

[leaving is one of the many faces of death,] and because vuvus are worried if those who leave would return. Furthermore, Ebau observes that old age, illness and alcoholism claims several tribal members’ lives that “村子裡，一家一家的輪流死亡，我們活著的人，就是忙著挖土埋

葬”81 [one by one, people in the village pass away, and us living ones are busy digging graves].

Suffering from altitude sickness and pondering death, Ebau watches other pilgrims passing by and a bright colored poncho catches her eye because it reminds her of the traditional Paiwan clothing and the patterns of the poncho make her think of maladas’ ivecies that indicate Paiwan

80 Ebau, 17. My translation. A vuvu refers to both tribal elders and the youngest generation in Paiwan language. Ebau uses 部落老人家 which is loosely translated as tribal elders in the sentence. I use vuvus to both honor the language and to indicate the importance of legacy of Paiwan culture.

81 Ebau, 204. My translation.

60 identity and the firm belief in Paiwan tradition.82 The ivecies are more than a symbol of the rank in a Paiwan community because according to Paiwan tradition, females from royal families or who hold noble positions are granted the privilege to have hand tattoos. However, the Paiwan hand-tattoo culture almost died out because it was forbidden to hold the tattoo rituals during the

Japanese Occupation Period and after the arrival of the Kuomintang government. As a result, there are only twenty-odd numbers of living female tribal elders with hand tattoos in various

Paiwan communities. Ebau recalls touching a malada’s fading ivecies on the wrinkly hands and feeling sorrowful for the disappearing art. However, the malada’s response brings solace because the ivecies are “是回家的記號… 回到大武山與祖靈相見”83 [a mark of home… where

[maladas] will meet ancestors and cemas on Mount Da-wu]. The malada’s desire for a reunion with Paiwan ancestors transforms the idea of death to the aspiration of returning home, demonstrates the courage to face death, and empowers Ebau to acknowledge the Paiwan elders’ persistence: “一群部落老人家堅持某種生活方式而凝聚的力量，受到現代社會的衝擊，仍

然堅持著祖先留傳下來的，善的能量”84 [The perseverance of the tribal elders to continue a certain lifestyle passed down by the ancestors, though faced with impact from the mainstream society, is the power of virtue]. Such stimulation, “巫師的吟唱，從銀灰色的天空傳來”85 [as if maladas’ voices coming from the silver-gray sky] makes Ebau realize the importance of life and

82 Ivecies are tattoo patterns in Paiwan. Royal and honorable men and females are able to have tattoos on the upper arms and chest, and hands, respectively. If a Paiwan civilian wants to get a tattoo, he or she has to buy the permission from the tribal leader. 83 Ebau, See You Again, Eagle, 131. My translation.

84 Ebau, 131. My translation.

85 Ebau, 178. My translation.

61 death. Her exclamation almost at the end of the journey, “喔！我活著！”86 [Oh! I am alive!] indeed indicate the power of survival. As Howe argues that the power of Native storytelling is

“revealed as a living character who continue to influence our culture,”87 the maladas’ stories assuredly create “貫穿全身的力量，自內底的種子湧生出的力量”88 [forces that penetrating the body and emerging from the seed inside oneself] sustain Ebau through the difficult pilgrimage and provide unyielding belief in Paiwan culture.

The dreams and visions of maladas function as a form of healing because they represent

Paiwan worldview and provide a sense of belonging. Paula Gunn Allen uses the term “dream connections” to point out the significance of dreams in Native cultures.89 Just as we have the abilities to feel and to act in the material world, Native Dreamers are able to communicate with the spiritual power and “[connect] to one another in ways more than mere language, culture, or proximity can assure” in a nonmaterial world.90 More importantly, Dreamers are capable of healing with dreams and visions, and finding a balanced “relationship between person and cosmos.”91 In other words, Dreamers and maladas alike, they are the mediators and translators between people and the spiritual world, and they represent an alternative worldview that the self is part of the web of relations. Moreover, the healing power of their dreams and visions provide

86 Ebau, 177. My translation.

87 Howe, “Tribalography: The Power of Native Stories,” 118.

88 Ebau, See You Again, Eagle, 190. My translation.

89 Paula Gunn Allen, The Sacred Hoop: Recovering the Feminine in American Indian Traditions (Boston: Beacon Press, 1986), 22.

90 Allen, 205.

91 Allen, 206.

62 spiritual guidance for the spiritually wounded people and a sense of belonging to the tribal traditions. Ebau recalls an event about a malada’s solving old auntie Tuwu’s recurrent bad dream and providing her with solace. After Lalub, Tuwu’s husband, passed away in an accident, Tuwu has had the same dream that Lalub stands still outside of his house, silently looking at his family, as if he has unfinished business to do. Tuwu explains that because Lalub was the only Christian in his family when he was alive, a Christian burial was held after the accident. Therefore, Tuwu consults the malada who uses a dried bottle gourd to communicate with the dead, and wants to know Lalub is unsatisfied with the burial. The malada shakes the dried gourd, prays to cemas, and asks the spirit of Lalub if the unfinished business is to unite with his Paiwan ancestors, “我

要和你談談，你是否因為信仰的關係沒有和你的母親、兄弟在一起，回不到你的出生地扎

拉阿地阿家族，所以你希望能跟他們在一起”92 [I need to talk to you. Is it because of the religion that you did not unite with your mother, brothers, or return to the land of the Zalaadi family? Do you wish to be with them?] The dried gourd in the malada’s hand suddenly stops making sounds, and the malada tells Tuwu firmly that Lalub’s wish is to return with the ancestors of the Zalaadi family. With the malada’s help, Tuwu is able to understand the message in the dream so as to fulfill her dead husband’s wish. After witnessing the event, Ebau concludes,

“巫師安慰死者的靈魂，同時也安慰生者的心靈”93[A malada consoles the spirit of the dead and comforts the soul of the living]. The significance of the event is multifold: it shows the power of healing through communication, it demonstrates the importance of reconnecting with the ancestors, and it strengthens Paiwan culture as a form of belonging. Similar to Howe’s

92 Ebau, See You Again, Eagle, 75. My translation.

93 Ebau, 76. My translation.

63 definition of tribalography that creates narratives with “the power to transform,”94 indeed, the malada’s interpretation of the dream creates a narrative that transforms despair into the empowerment of Paiwan tradition.

As the desire of searching for a sense of belonging is prominent in Ebau’s works, the stories of maladas in See You Again, Eagle emphatically lead Ebau home to the assertion of

Paiwan identity. Just as Bevis argues in “Native American Novels: Homing In” that Native protagonists leave home to find isolation because the plot of leaving indicates disconnection to the tribal community and history, Ebau’s identity crisis derives from the dissociation with

Paiwan culture because she considers her Paiwan identity a burden for her success in the mainstream society:

我要如何說明這個世界和他們的世界的不同，以及努力工作賺取金錢受主管賞識對個人存在的重要性？經驗已經告訴我，我的膚色和身份是個沈重的負擔，我無法再帶著我的傳統，我的文化，站在人和人競爭的舞台上。相反地，我必須不斷消去我身上的氣息，我的原來色彩，以適應不同的觀念和價值，才不致傷痕累累。早在幾年前，我以取下掛在身上的鷹羽，我不想成為異類。95 [How do I explain that my world is different from theirs [maladas’s]? And how do I explain it is important for an individual to work hard, make money, and be acknowledged by a supervisor? My experiences have taught me that my skin color and identity are a tremendous burden; I cannot compete with others while carrying my tradition and my culture. Rather, I have to eliminate the smell [of my body] and dim my [skin] color so as to adapt to different perspectives and values, and to avoid being hurt again and again. I took off the eagle feathers on me years ago. I do not want to be different.]

Though identity is created through a dynamic process of tribal traditions and negotiations with other people, Ebau’s identity crisis clearly results from her rejection of Paiwan identity. As a

94 Howe, “Tribalography: The Power of Native Stories,” 118.

95 Ebau, See You Again, Eagle, 147-148. My translation. Eagles are spiritual animals in Paiwan culture. After Ebau was born, a malada sewed eagle feathers on Ebau’s clothes for protection from evil spirits. As a result, Ebau often associates herself with eagles for their courage, swiftness, and sagacity.

64 result, she describes herself as a “逃亡者” [fugitive] who hides her “獨特的音聲、獨特的身份

…湮埋在酒精的世界裡96 [distinct voice, special identity …in the world of alcohol]. Ebau’s desolation startles a malada, and therefore, the malada tells Ebau, “我們把它叫回來” [Let’s call your soul back] by commending loudly: “在冬季，埋葬身底的枯枝腐葉，起來，清晨的陽光

出現了；裡面的人，醒起來，醒起來”97 [Wake up, those rotten leaves buried deeply in winter. The morning sun has shone. Wake up, the person [hidden] inside. Wake Up]. Afterwards, the malada says, “你無論在哪裡，請守好你的靈魂”98 [No matter where you are, please guard your soul]. The malada’s notion of guarding one’s soul is more than protecting oneself from physical harm and mental struggle; it suggests a balanced connection with the family, community, and culture because one can rid self-destruction by acknowledging his or her tribal identity and culture. Realizing the hidden message in the malada’s edification, Ebau finally understands that her pain is caused by the detachment from her Paiwan identity and culture.

Standing in the mountain in Tibet, Ebau finally recognizes the need to accept her Paiwan identity as if the voice from the malada tells her, “這就是你”99 [This is who you are]. Reminiscing about the memories of her life and the malada’s wisdom, Ebau has the urge to go home: “迷路的孩

子，想要回家，真的好想回家”100 [The lost child wants to go home. She wants to go home so

96 Ebau, 144. My translation.

97 Ebau, 81. My translation.

98 Ebau, 147. My translation.

99 Ebau, 191. My translation.

100 Ebau, 68. My translation.

65 much]. In other words, the home Ebau desires to return to is indeed her Paiwan identity. Echoing

Bevis’ claim that the “[Native] ‘transpersonal self’ [is] composed of society, past, and place,”101 with the stories of maladas, Ebau is able to re-establish her connections to Paiwan identity, land, and culture.

The stories of maladas in See You Again, Eagle not only create narratives that empower

Paiwan culture but also reconstruct a balanced relationship for the living and the dead, and the self and the community. Ebau considers maladas’ stories entertaining, educational, and inspiring, but never preaching because the maladas are able to pass on important lessons in an effortless way as Ebau describes: “他們的頭上有一棵樹，樹上長滿故事，隨手一抓，「很久很久以前

…」這就是他們要說給你聽的道理”102 [There is a tree of stories on top of maladas’ heads.

When they pick a leaf from the tree, ‘Once upon a time…,’ it is the lesson they want you to know]. That is to say, stories are the maladas’ way of passing on experiences, wisdom, history, and culture. As Howe argues in “Tribalography: The Power of Native Stories” that Native stories are a way for Native people to both “acknowledge the wrongs committed against our ancestors” and to “speak to future generations,”103 maladas’ stories indeed demonstrate the ancestors’ persistence during difficult times, the accumulative wisdom to guide the future generations, and the power to strengthen the tribal identity and culture. See You Again, Eagle begins with a malada’s dream of a little girl drinking water from a lake on the day Ebau was born, and it ends with an old black-and-white photo of Ebau and a tribal malada standing next to each other in the

101 Bevis, “Native American Novels: Homing In,” 590.

102 Ebau, 180. My translation.

103 Howe, Tribalography: The Power of Native Stories,” 124.

66 community. It is obvious that maladas play a crucial role in Ebau’s life and in maintaining an inseparable relationship between Ebau and Paiwan culture. In the epilogue of See You Again,

Eagle, Ebau reveals that the Tibetan pilgrimage and her acceptance of Paiwan identity foster her creation of a play, 祭．遙 [Reverence Afar], which tells Paiwan culture and worldview through the obstacles the tribal maladas have endured. A character sings, “每個人的靈魂深處都有一首

歌，一首古老的歌，只是，有人忘了，我也忘了”104 [There is a song for everyone deep in the soul. An ancient song. But people forgot about it, and so did I]. The forgotten song indeed symbolizes the hidden identity, the deserted culture, and the neglected tradition. With the voices of maladas, the stories of remembrance, weaving history and stories, offer a sense of healing and belonging, affirm Paiwan identity, and create narratives of empowerment for the future generations.

Conclusion

The juxtaposition of Momaday’s The Way to Rainy Mountain and Ebau’s See You Again,

Eagle demonstrates shared trans-Pacific Indigenous concern for the significance of ancestral voices in Indigenous storytelling that teaches tribal histories and worldviews, and establishes communication between the ancestors and the descendants. To illustrate the importance of ancestral voices in Indigenous storytelling, Bevis writes, “[The] past, too, was part of tribal authority and culture and therefore part of identity… Severed from the past, the present is

104 Ebau, See You Again, Eagle, 205. My translation. Ebau is a senior member of U- Theatre 優人神鼓 that is known for the combination of meditation, martial arts, and drumming in Taiwan. Her play, Reverence Afar was performed in 2004 and 2016 in Taiwan. The original title of the play is Ji yao 祭．遙 in which 祭 means to show respect especially with a religious ceremony and 遙 means far away. The English title is my translation.

67 meaningless, outcast, homeless.”105 That is to say, the past is the source of knowledge that

Indigenous people seek a sense of belonging and construct their identity. In The Way to Rainy

Mountain, the ancestral voices sustain Kiowa culture by telling stories of the mythical time and sharing the ancestors’ obstacles in historic moments. The story of Tai-me, for instance, asserts the Kiowa religious belief and the continuity of Kiowa culture. Momaday’s trip to Rainy

Mountain foster the relearning of Kiowa culture and strengthening Kiowa identity. Similarly, the pilgrimage of Circling the Sacred Mount Kailash in Tibet makes Ebau reminisce the significance of Mount Da-wu in Paiwan culture that it is the origin of life and knowledge for her people.

Furthermore, the maladas’ voices encourage Ebau to accomplish the strenuous pilgrimage, provide comfort and healing for Ebau’s identity crisis, and reconnect Ebau with Paiwan culture.

Just as Justice argues in “How Do We Become Good Ancestors?” that one aspect of maintaining a good relationship with the ancestors is “learning of their struggle to strengthen our own in the current time,”106 so, in addition to the glorious past, the ancestral voices in The Way to Rainy

Mountain and See You Again, Eagle teach the future generations how the ancestors survived hardship and strived to maintain a balanced relationship with all forms of life. The ancestral voices of continuity and remembrance are indeed prominent in both authors’ acknowledgement of tribal worldviews and histories through storytelling.

One important message in The Way to Rainy Mountain and See You Again, Eagle is the significance of survival in Indigenous storytelling. Kiowa ancestors survived hunger, warfare, and the loss of Tai-me, and Paiwan ancestors survived the loss of religious practice, land, and

105 Bevis, “Native American Novels: Homing In,” 590.

106 Justice, Why Indigenous Literatures Matter, 123.

68 culture. With the stories of loss, the lesson of survival prevails in both texts. Justice reiterates the notion of survival in Why Indigenous Literatures Matters:

In fact, our stories have been integral to that survival—more than that, they’ve been part of our cultural, political, and familial resurgence and our continuing efforts to maintain our rights and responsibilities in these contested lands. They are good medicine. They remind us about who we are and where we’re going, on our own and in relation to those with whom we share this world. They remind us about the relationships that make a good life possible.107 That is to say, the stories of survival empower the future generations and remind them that they are the descendants of survivors. In addition to The Way to Rainy Mountain and See You Again,

Eagle, both Momaday and Ebau encourage and create narratives of empowerment and survival in different forms of storytelling. Inspired by The Way to Rainy Mountain, Jill Scott Momaday,

Momaday’s daughter, produced a short film, Return to Rainy Mountain in 2017 in which she traces Momaday’s footstep to Rainy Mountain so as to understand the meaning of being a

Kiowa. reminiscing the stories she has listened to since childhood and visiting the old family house and the sacred hill, Jill Momaday explains the importance of stories in understanding

Kiowa culture and history:

And those stories were the history of the Kiowa people. Those are the stories that defined really who [N. Scott Momaday] was and who we are culturally as a people. It really connects us to the past, and if we don’t have that, then we can’t move forward and we can’t pass those stories on to the next generations. And that’s really what the oral tradition is all about.108 Echoing Howe’s claim that “all histories are stories written down,”109 Jill Momaday points out that stories teach the Kiowas about their history and affirm their Kiowa identity. In the most

107 Justice, 5-6.

108 Return to Rainy Mountain, directed by Jill Scott Momaday, 2017, film, 12:08-12:34. http://www.returntorainymountain.com/film.html 109 Howe, “Tribalography: The Power of Native Stories,” 123.

69 recent documentary, N. Scott Momaday: Words from a Bear (2019), Momaday reiterates the power of storytelling: “Everything started out as the oral tradition. It is a part of language that makes the most of responsible telling, careful listening, and memory.”110 In other words, it requires accountable storytellers and attentive listeners to pass on the stories so that the future generations are able to establish connections with the past, society, and culture. Similar to the works of cultural continuity inspired by The Way to Rainy Mountain, Ebau’s See You Again,

Eagle not only makes her play Reverence Afar possible but also encourages her to teach theater performance and drumming to Indigenous children in Taiwan. Reverence Afar tells a story of a

Paiwan couple who are forced to separate from each other because the male is recruited to fight the Pacific War and passes away while the female becomes a tribal malada to pass on the Paiwan tradition during the Japanese Occupation Period.111 Rather than a tragic love story, Reverence

Afar highlights the female’s journey of becoming a malada and her responsibility to sustain

Paiwan culture. The success of the performance motivates Ebau to establish connections to

Indigenous tribes by teaching children drumming because Ebau considers drumming is a form of art and is a way of examining one’s life. Therefore, Ebau urge Indigenous children to listen to the drumbeat and heartbeat, reflect on the tribal values, and be proud of their identity. Both

Momaday and Ebau are accountable storytellers because they endeavor to sustain the Indigenous

110 N. Scott Momaday: Words from a Bear, directed by Jeffrey Palmer, 2019, 25:28- 25:40.

111 Similar to Native American soldiers in World War I, World War II, and Vietnam War, to name a few, Taiwan Indigenous males, named Takasago Volunteers or Takasago Giyutai 高砂義勇隊 were recruited by the Japanese government to fight mainly the Pacific War (1942-1945). See Victor Louzon, “From Japanese Soldiers to Chinese Rebels: Colonial Hegemony, War Experience, and Spontaneous Remobilization During the 1947 Taiwanese Rebellion,” The Journal of Asian Studies 77, no. 1 (Feb. 2018): 161-179.

70 culture and tradition with narratives of survival, thus making both authors good ancestors for the future generations.

The narrative of survival is crucial in the recent Indigenous Futurism, a movement encompassing visual arts, films, popular culture, and music, that weaves traditional knowledge with futuristic ideas in works. The term, Indigenous Futurism, was coined by Grace L. Dillon, an

Anishinaabe scholar in her Walking the Clouds: An Anthology of Indigenous Science Fiction

(2012). Inspired by Afrofuturism that link African culture to technology and science fiction,

Indigenous Futurism reveals Indigenous presence, honor the tribal traditions, and sustain the tribal cultures. Dillon uses an Anishinaabemowin word, biskaabiiyang, meaning returning to ourselves, to describe the significance of Indigenous Futurism: “discovering how personally one is affected by colonization… and recovering ancestral traditions in order to adapt in our post-

Native Apocalypse world.”112 That is to say, Indigenous Futurism decolonizes the Indigenous stereotypes and defamiliarizes the settings by positioning Indigenous people in post-apocalyptic landscapes or the digital world. For example, Anishinaabe and Métis scholar Elizabeth LaPensée created Survivance (2013), a website for players to choose a character and to finish quest.

LaPensée applies Gerald Vizenor’s concept of survivance to the new storytelling technique so as to assert Indigenous presence in contemporary media. Graphic novels and comics recently become an important medium for Indigenous writers and artists to tell stories in a visual way.

Moonshot: The Indigenous Comics Collection (2015) defies the mainstream representation of

112 Grace L. Dillon, Walking the Clouds: An Anthology of Indigenous Science Fiction (Tucson: The University of Arizona Press, 2012), 10.

Indigenous people and emphasizes “cultural continuance.”113 Furthermore, LaPensée and

Gordon Henry Jr. edited a graphic novel, Sovereign Traces Vol. 1: Not (Just) (An) Other (2018), to demonstrate Indigenous storytelling with visual representation. More recently, Indigenous

Futurism: Transcending Past/Present/Future (2020) published by IAIA Museum of

Contemporary Native Arts showcases artworks, including painting, sculpture, and clothes, to name a few, that utilize Indigenous patterns or materials to create futuristic works. To reiterate the narrative of survival, Justice writes, “We are more than just ‘of descent’ from those initial survivors, however—we’re survivors, too, every one of us.”114 The artists of Indigenous

Futurism use different methods to demonstrate struggle, sacrifice, and hope, affirm Indigenous presence, and highlights survival in their stories.

Even though the term Indigenous Futurism is unfamiliar to Taiwan Indigenous people,

Taiwan Indigenous artists utilize different agencies to promote the narrative of survival and continuity in their works. Paiwan singer Aljenljeng Tjaluvie uses her voice, lyrics in Paiwan language, and Paiwan traditional rhythm to create music albums. Inspired by her maternal grandmother’s wish to sing the traditional songs, The East Payuan Folk and Three Generations

(2014) is the first music album of traditional Paiwan folksongs. Vavayan．Women (2016), also in Paiwan language, honors her close relationship with Aljenljeng Tjaluvie’s mother and the significance of mothers in Paiwan culture with mixture of the tradition Paiwan rhythm, jazz, and

R&B. Following the experiments of blending traditional Paiwan language and music with

113 Michael Sheyahshe, “Introduction,” in Moonshot: The Indigenous Comics Collection (Toronto: AH Comics, 2015), 8. There are three volumes of Moonshot up to date. See Michael Sheyahshe, Native Americans in Comics: A Critical Study (Jefferson: McFarland, 2008).

114 Justice, Why Indigenous Literatures Matter, 5.

72 different music genre, her most recent Kinakaian．Mother Tongue (2019) honors Paiwan ancestors with music. As Aljenljen Tjaluvie uses music to honor Paiwan culture, so Truku artist

Dondon Hounwn utilizes installation art to tell stories of conflicts and compromise of his tribal and gender identity. In addition to the three-dimensional works, Dondon Hounwn uses videos and sings songs in Truku language to showcase the richness of Truku culture; moreover, he also demands audience to reflect on “很多儀式是否逐漸流於表面的形式115 [whether the traditional rituals and ceremonies have become mere performances]. Nau Angai Kaaviana, a Kanakanavu weaver, leathercraft, and artist, have taught females in her tribe to weave the traditional

Kanakanavu clothes because the population of her tribe is the smallest of all the sixteen official tribes, and she wishes to pass on the skills of making traditional clothing. Therefore, she has taught her tribal members the traditional patterns and the fabrics as she claims, “我想寄望未

來，期待部落的年輕一代，能夠將這個文化順承傳統的接續下去，認清自己的文化，也認

識自己是誰”116 [I expect and look forward to the future generations in my tribe to pass on the culture and tradition. Knowing your culture and knowing who you are]. The works of cultural

115 “Yi shu jia zhuan fang dong dong hou wen wen rou di su shuo shen ti shi wo yu yi shu dui hua de yu yan 藝術家專訪：東冬．侯溫：溫柔地訴說，身體是我與藝術對話的語言” [Interview with an Artist: Dondon Hounwn: Speaking Gently, the Body is the Language I Speak to Art], Bang: Magazine for Mr. Boys (October 8, 2019). My translation. http://www.bangweb.com.tw/custom.php?act=view&id=43 116 “Yi shu jia zhuan fang na wu ang nai ka a fei 72 ana tu di hui rang wo men zhao dao yong qi he chu lu 藝術家專訪：誽鄔．昂艿．卡啊妃雅誽：土地會讓我們找到勇氣和出路 [Interview with an Artist: Nau Angai Kaaviana: Our Land will Let Us Find A Way and Courage], Bang: Magazine for Mr. Boys (April 20, 2019). My translation. http://www.bangweb.com.tw/custom.php?act=view&id=37

73 continuity and the narrative of survival of the Taiwan Indigenous artists indeed deserve recognition within the Taiwan society and global Indigenous community.

Trans-Pacific Dialogue of the voices of ancestors exhibited in The Way to Rainy

Mountain and See You Again, Eagle pinpoints the significance of survival and continuity of

Indigenous culture. In addition to stories, the ancestral voices empower Indigenous tradition and affirm Indigenous identity. The stories of Kiowa ancestors demonstrate Kiowa history and the hardship they overcame. Moreover, the stories emphasize the power of language and imagination crucial to the understanding of Kiowa oral tradition. The stories of maladas in Ebau’s See You

Again, Eagle offers a Paiwan-specific malada culture, provides Ebau with a sense of belonging during the arduous pilgrimage, and assert Paiwan identity. The voices of maladas indeed reconnect Ebau to Paiwan culture with their stories of the past and of imagination. Justice writes:

Our literatures are just one more vital way that we have encountered those forces of erasure and given shape to our own ways of being in the world. Our mindful stories, in all their forms and functions—and whether vocalized, embodied, or inscribed—honour the sacrifices of those who came before us and who made it possible for us to continue the struggle today as specific peoples in relation with the world. They help us bridge the gap of human imagination between one another, between other human communities, and between us and other-than-human beings. Fundamentally, they affirm Indigenous presence—and our present.117 The voices of ancestors carry the accumulative wisdom from the past, and Indigenous writers and artist transform such wisdom into narratives of continuity and survival with various approaches. Both Momaday’s The Way to Rainy Mountain and Ebau’s See You Again, Eagle honor the ancestral voices by acknowledging history and tradition and becoming good ancestors for the future generations.

117 Justice, Why Indigenous Literatures Matter, xix.

Chapter 2

Adapting to Natural Disasters with Humor in Ofelia Zepeda’s “The Floods of 1993 and

Others” and Walis Nokan’s “Tribal Disaster Studies”

Natural disasters are inevitable. Even though some can be predicted so that people can take precautions, others are unforeseeable, and many lives are lost. Observing the influence of natural disasters on Indigenous communities, Gregory Cajete considers that Indigenous communities are faced with more difficulties: “Globally, Indigenous communities face multiple challenges from climate change, starting with the most basic needs for life: ensuring freshwater supplies, securing food supplies, and mediating the impact on key plant and animal species.”1

William Bevis regards that “[n]ature is part of tribe” in his “Native American Novel: Homing In” because of reciprocity between nature and Indigenous people that Indigenous communities learn to confront, respond, and adapt to sudden changes in natural environment become particularly important for Indigenous communities.2 Their reactions demonstrate the challenges of natural disasters, the community’s resistance to hardship, and people’s resilience for survival.

Confronting natural disasters, Tohono O’odham poet Ofelia Zepeda and Atayal writer Walis

Nokan document the Floods of 1993 in Tucson in Southern Arizona and landslides caused by

Typhoon Aere in Taiwan in 2004, respectively, and their humorous response to the sudden changes in the natural environment. In “The Floods of 1993 and Others,” Zepeda depicts in a humorous tone the change of the desert landscape with floating cacti and flooded trails, and

1 Gregory Cajete, Indigenous Community: Rekindling the Teachings of the Seventh Fire (St. Paul: Living Justice Press, 2015), 232.

2 William Bevis, “Native American Novels: Homing In,” in Recovering the Word: Essays on Native American Literature, ed. Brian Swan and Arnold Krupat (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1987), 602.

75 criticizes the helplessness and neglect the Tohono O’odham experience due to the lack of immediate assistance. Writing across the Pacific Ocean, Walis Nokan’s prose poem “部落災難

學” [Tribal Disaster Studies] describes the casual conversations and activities of his family and the sound of heavy rain and gusty wind on the night Typhoon Aere hit Taiwan in August 2004.

Though Walis Nokan seems nonchalant, the trivialities in the poem imply the fear of losing home to the typhoon and landslides, and his sarcastic tone insinuates the incompetence of the government in the poem. Juxtaposing “The Floods of 1993 and Others” and “Tribal Disaster

Studies,” Trans-Pacific Dialogue shows the vulnerability of Indigenous communities when facing natural disasters; moreover, Zepeda’s and Walis Nokan’s humorous and yet sarcastic tone indicates their resistance to the governments’ untimely response and resilience of survival.

The significance of Native humor is multifold: it is a form of communication, it bonds the community, and it indicates resistance and survival.3 In his “Indian Humor,” Vine Deloria considers humor as a way of life because humor is observed in daily conversation and stories; furthermore, it is a way of coping because “the more desperate the problem, the more humor is directed to describe it.”4 That is to say, Native people use humor to share aspects of life and to survive hardship. In Manifest Manners, Gerald Vizenor points out the significance of laughter and humor in Native American literature: the comic narrative subverts the dominant discourse and heals with imagination, for “[Native] children would be healed with humor, and manifest

3 The studies of Humor encompass disciplines such as linguistics, history, psychology, and literature, to name a few. I focus on Native humor in this chapter. For the long history of the studies of humor, laughter, and comic vision, see John Morreall, Taking Laughter Seriously (New York: SUNY Press, 1983), The Philosophy of Laughter and Humor (New York: SUNY Press, 1987), and Comic Relief: A Comprehensive Philosophy of Humor (Hoboken: Wiley- Blackwell, 2009).

4 Vine Deloria Jr., “Indian Humor,” Custer Died for Your Sins: An Indian Manifesto, (Norman: University of Oklahoma Press, 1988), 147.

76 manners would be undermined at the same time.”5 Moreover, Lawrence Gross contends that humor can maintain and revive Native culture and “exhibits a healing effect.”6 Similarly, Native counselors and psychologists share the similar opinion that Native humor counters negative stereotypes of Native people and “creates an atmosphere of sharing and connectedness.”7 The healing power of humor, thus, is a shared opinion among activists, literary critics, and psychologists; in other words, the healing power indicates the communal nature of humor, and it helps connect people of the community. Rather than tragic representation of hardship and suffering, Native humor, in forms of storytelling, teasing, or anecdotes, helps to reaffirm Native presence and enhance resiliency.

Drawing on “The Floods of 1993 and Others” and “Tribal Disasters Studies,” I aim to convene the concept of Native humor within the two texts because both Zepeda and Walis

Nokan not only transform the natural disasters into the knowledge of the natural surroundings but also confront sudden events with humor so as to reassert the skills of coping and survival.

Southern Arizona is known for fauna and flora of the Sonoran Desert; however, the floods of

1993 turned the desert landscape into a water world. Responding to the floods of 1993 in Tucson,

“The Floods of 1993 and Others” depicts the impact of the unexpected floods on the landscape.

Rather than portraying the devastation caused by the floods, Zepeda personifies cacti, depicts incongruous scenes, and demonstrates helplessness with a sense of humor as a form of coping

5 Gerald Vizenor, Manifest Manners (Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 1994), 83.

6 Lawrence Gross, “Humor and Healing in the Nonfiction Works of Jim Northrup,” Wicazo Za Review 24, no. 1 (Spring 2009), 85.

7 Michael Tlanusta Garrett, J. T. Garrett, Gloria K. King, Indigenous Cultures and Mental Health Counselling: Four Directions for Integration with Counselling Psychology (London: Taylor & Francis, 2016), 24.

77 mechanism. Taiwan, on the other hand, is a subtropical island and is threatened by typhoons every summer. Because of its mountainous geography, one of the worst impacts of typhoons is landslides. Unfortunately, as most Indigenous communities are in the mountainous areas in

Taiwan, so the Indigenous communities have experienced the drastic impact of natural disasters.

As a result, “Tribal Disaster Studies” not only documents the frightening night when Typhoon

Aere hit central Taiwan, but also portrays the calmness of Walis Nokan’s family waiting for the typhoon to pass as if they excel at coping with natural disasters. Walis Nokan’s humorous and sarcastic tone both criticizes the overdue proper land management of the government and insinuates the resiliency of his people when confronting natural disasters. Desert in southern

Arizona and mountains in central Taiwan alike are nurtured, sustained and yet threatened by the power of water, be it floods or typhoons. Trans-Pacific Dialogue of the two Indigenous texts demonstrates the natural environments of the two distinct places, the impact of natural force, and the authors’ use of humor to confront and survive hardship.

Water World in the Desert—Zepeda’s “The Floods of 1993 and Others”

Depicting the Sonoran Desert, writing in the Tohono O’odham language, and expressing the tribal worldview have been prominent in Zepeda’s writings. Ocean Power, her first book of poetry, depicts the natural surroundings and daily life of the O’odham community. Because

Tohono O’odham is situated in southern Arizona, also known as the area of the Sonoran Desert, rain brings joy to people and life to land, as Zepeda writes: “I remember how these adults laughed at anyone who got caught in the rain… [They] also seemed to laugh at the delight of the wetness…It is the smell not only of dirt but of the dry bark of mesquite and other acacias.”8

8 Ofelia Zepeda, Ocean Power: Poems from the Desert (Tucson: The University of Arizona Press, 1995), 2.

While Zepeda celebrates clouds, rain, and storms, she is also well aware of the destructive power of water in desert areas. One of Zepeda’s early memories about escaping rapid floods is watching her father and workers running away from floods: “they looked like a pack animals crossing rushing rivers.”9 Therefore, Zepeda reminds people to show “fear and respect” to rain.10 People in southern Arizona are prepared for the summer monsoon, but the unusual series of winter storms in January 1993 brought heavy rain that caused severe flooding and changed the desert landscape. Reflecting on the unexpected winter floods, Zepeda’s “The Floods of 1993 and

Others” contains three parts: firstly, Zepeda personifies the uprooted trees and floating cacti, and imagines their silent scream. The incongruity of juxtaposing desert flora, drifting animals, roaming ashes and running river creates a comic vision. Later, Zepeda describes the raging river flowing into canyons and trapping two helpless boys. The poem ends in an answering machine message from the Department of Transportation and Flood Control that indicates both the forlornness of the two boys and the delayed response of the government. Garrett argues in “A

Laughing Matter” that “the use of humour in Native tradition has contributed to the survival of many Native nations as a coping skill by restoring harmony and balance among Native people.”11 Humor in “The Floods of 1993 and Others” indeed demonstrates the way Zepeda highlights the narrative of survival when confronting the floods.

It is important to understand the close relationship between the O’odham people and the

Sonoran Desert because the desert is the Tohono O’odham people’s ancestral land and the way

9 Zepeda, 3.

10 Zepeda, 3.

11 Garrett, Garrett, and King, Indigenous Cultures and Mental Health Counselling, 28.

79 the O’odham people have adapted to the natural surroundings reveals the deep connections among the environment, the significance of water, and the O’odham culture. There are Akimel

O’odham, or River People, and Tohono O’odham, or Desert People, in Arizona. The Akimel

O’odham is known as the one-village-people because the year-round water flowing past a village provides steady water source; on the other hand, the Tohono O’odham people, known as the two- village-people, made annual pilgrimages to salt flats near the Gulf of California because they believed the rain spirits lived there and prayed for more rain to come. Water not only shapes the size of the community and seasonal activities but also plays an integral part in the O’odham cosmology as Thomas Sheridan explains, “The O’odham therefore sang about water, dreamed about water, and learned all the ways to utilize whatever water they found in a dry land.”12 The

O’odham people find thriving life in the desert because they are able to utilize the desert plants to produce daily necessities such as food and housing; moreover, the Saguaro Wine Ceremony marks the reciprocity between the people and the land. The O’odham people use saguaro flowers and fruits for food, and ribs for making baskets and building fences. The ripe saguaro fruits are gathered and processed into thickened syrup and then fermented into ceremonial wine for the

Saguaro Wine Ceremony. which takes place at the end of the saguaro harvest and the beginning of the monsoon season, indicating the beginning of the New Year.13 The purpose of the ceremony is to pull the clouds in, so the rain helps the desert life prosperous. While summer monsoons are oftentimes severe and unpredictable, winter rains are usually relatively gentle.14

12 Thomas Sheridan, Paths of Life: American Indians of the Southwest and Northern Mexico (Tucson: The University of Arizona Press, 1996), 116.

13 The O’odham New Year begins in late June or early July, rather than in January, when saguaro fruits ripen.

O’odham people rely on both summer and winter rains to seed and grow crops, and the desert plants have their ways of holding the moisture; all are prepared for the next dry period.

The significance of Zepeda’s “The Floods of 1993 and Others” lies in the recognition of the unique desert ecology and the reciprocity between the O’odham culture and the natural environment. Zepeda divides Ocean Power into four parts, and “The Floods of 1993 and Others” is one of the poems in Part I, ‘i-hudiñ g cewagi, “Pulling Down the Clouds.” Just like the way the

O’odham people conduct the Saguaro Wine Ceremony to pull down the clouds for rain, so the poems in Part I contains depictions of dances, and songs as well people’s eager expectation for the rain to come. For example, Part I begins with “Pulling Down the Clouds” in which “women with harvesting sticks/ raised toward the sky.”15 The harvesting sticks are used to gather saguaro fruits during the harvest season and to symbolically hook the clouds during the ceremony. The following poems, “O’odham Dances,” “Ju:ki Ñe’i” (rain songs), “Na:nko Ma:s Cewagi Cloud

Song,” “Wind,” and “Black Clouds” describe the ceremonial dance and different types of wind that indicate the change of weather. “Cewagi” (clouds), after “The Floods of 1993 and Others,” ends Part I with the gathering of summer clouds and thunder, indicating the cycle of water. Just like the ceremony that calls upon the clouds to produce rain, “The Floods of 1993 and Others” nor only symbolizes the blessing of the exceptional abundance of rain to the desert but also the destructive power of nature that demands people’s respect. Though winter rains are most of the time gentle, winter storms with heavy rain occur occasionally in the desert area, and the January

14 Summer rains are called las aguas, “the waters,” and winter rains are called las equipatas, “the little packages” by Desert Dwellers in Sonora, Mexico. See Mrill Ingram, “Desert Storms,” A Natural History of the Sonoran Desert (Los Angeles: University of California Press, 1999), 44.

15 Zepeda, Ocean Power, 10.

81 winter storm in 1993 the poem refers to indeed ravaged the Tucson area, including the Tohono

O’odham Nation, with heavy rain and flooding. During the fourteen-day period of the winter storm, roads were flooded, bridges damaged, power was out, sewage overflowed and the desert landscape became a water world. Rather than complaining the severe impact of the winter storm,

Zepeda instills a sense of humor in “The Floods of 1993 and Others” because the winter storm and its impact are part of the desert life. As a result, she is able to emphasizes resilience and survival of the desert dwellers, plants and humans alike, in the poem.

Zepeda’s description of the personified desert flora indicates that the plants are part of the community, demonstrates the unique desert ecosystem, and emphasizes its resilience for survival in “The Floods of 1993 and Others.” Because of the surging water, the rooted desert plants are dislocated and disheveled.

Old trees uprooted, grasses, twigs, and branches, all forced, all pointing with limbs in the same direction, as if telling us, the one that did this to us went that way.

Barrel cactus, hanging in uncactuslike manner, upside down in between tree trunks and large branches.16

In addition to the uprooted trees and barrel cactus, Zepeda describes the tangled bear grass as if they were “having the appearance of Diana Ross and the Supremes of the ‘60s”17 because of the flood. Zepeda’s description showcases the destructive power of the floods and the damaged desert ecosystem. Desert trees provide shade and space for animals, barrel cacti contain water

16 Zepeda, 21.

17 Zepeda, 22.

82 and produce juicy fruits, and Native people have used the long narrow leaves of bear grass to make baskets for daily use. Even though Zepeda does not tell the readers what the old trees are, they are likely mesquite, palo verde, or ironwood, which are native Sonoran Desert trees. Barrel cacti are classic desert plants: they require minimal water, they are dormant in winter, and they can live a long life. In addition, bear grass, or Indian basket grass, grows in well-drained soil and helps control soil erosion. These desert plants may seem common in the area; in fact, they represent the desert ecosystem because of the implied interdependence among land, plants, animals, and humans. Even though the desert ecosystem is destroyed, Zepeda insinuates the resilience of plants. For example, the personified old trees and cacti scream silently, “My roots are still good, put me in the rocky soil,”18 and that tangled bear grass “secretly [wishes] for the ultimate disaster. Fire. One which they would survive with renewed opportunity.”19 The exposed roots and soaked trunks do not ruin the plants; on the contrary, the silent scream suggests the plants’ resistance to severe climate and adaptation to different natural surroundings. Putting them back into the soil so that the plants will continue to grow demonstrates the vitality of desert plants. Additionally, bear grass shows its liveliness with the ability to survive fire and to regrowth even after floods and fire. The personification of the plants in “The Floods of 1993 and

Others” demands humans to listen to them; furthermore, the significance of giving them voices suggest that the desert plants are a crucial part of the ecosystem and the Tohono O’odham community.

In addition to the damaged ecosystem, Zepeda uses two voiceless boys trapped in the flooded canyon to demonstrate the changed desert landscape so as to summon respect and fear

18 Zepeda, 21.

19 Zepeda, 22.

83 for the force of nature. The desert landscape contains a wide variety of geological features, and one of the most noted features in Arizona is canyons such as Grand Canyon near Flagstaff,

Antelope Canyon in Navajo Nation, and Madera Canyon near Tucson. These canyons are formed over millions of years with the movement of rivers such as weathering and erosion. While the movement of water transforms rocks into beautiful canyons, flash floods in canyons are deadly.

In “The Floods of 1993 and Others,” Zepeda depicts Tony and Ken’s quick response and yet helpless situation when encountering flash floods in a canyon. Tony and Ken know the canyon trail like the back of the hand because they are familiar with “every turn, every incline” of the trail.20 Therefore, when they realize the potential threat of flash floods, they “[follow] the canyon trail loop,” trying to escape danger.21 Because desert sands do not absorb water, water just six inches deep can increase chances of being swept away into deeper waters. The sudden surge of fast-moving water with sediments and debris can move rocks, pull up trees, destroy landscape, and even claim lives. Zepeda provides details about the sudden change of the familiar natural surroundings: “Down on hands they grope for rocks that should have been there. They feel trees that weren’t there before. The trail has fallen off the side of the mountain. They balk in their rhythm and look at the side of a mountain, a side that wasn’t there before…. All debris carried by water, reshaping a canyon.”22 As a result, Tony and Ken are “like two sighted men suddenly gone blind,”23 because the familiar trail becomes strange to them. As Tony and Ken debate which way to go, they have to move faster than the fast-rushing water. So they climb to

20 Zepeda, 24.

21 Zepeda, 24.

22 Zepeda, 24.

23 Zepeda, 24.

84 higher ground with “limb caught upon limb in wild, frozen dance postures,”24 and “their lungs rhythmically, quietly screaming.”25 Like the uprooted plants dangling in awkward places, Tony and Ken’s weird postures indicate both the danger of floods in canyons and their efforts to survive. The similar silent scream of the plants and Tony and Ken showcases the same vulnerability of life when encountering natural disasters. While gentle rain is considered a blessing in desert, flash floods caused by heavy rain indeed remind people of their powerlessness and summon fear and respect for the unexpected force of nature.

Just as the descriptions of the incongruous postures of plants and humans create a comical effect, the use of teasing in “The Floods of 1993 and Others” indeed demonstrates the ill-judgement and untimely response of the government management, and highlights the desire for better policy-making of the government. Deloria writes in “Indian Humor” that “teasing was a method of control of social situations by Indian people.”26 Furthermore, he explains that teasing among tribal members is a way of showing someone who is “out of step with the consensus of tribal opinion,”27 and “[gradually] people learned to anticipate teasing and began to tease themselves as a means of showing humility and at the same time advocating a course of action they deeply believed in.”28 Teasing is also used to lessen the distress of adapting to “the strange new white ways”29 and agony of conflicts. In “The Floods of 1993 and Others,” Zepeda

24 Zepeda, 24.

25 Zepeda, 23.

26 Deloria, “Indian Humor,” 147.

27 Deloria, 147.

28 Deloria, 147.

29 Deloria, 150.

85 teases the Park Service multiple times because the Park Service overlooks the fact that the concrete disrupts natural washes and drainages, and it contributes to flooding.

They silently scream, “My roots are still good, put me in the rocky soil.” The screams are inaudible. Even if every curved thorn joins in the Park Service employees don’t hear them. Or if they do, they ignore them. Too busy repairing concrete.30

In fact, the ignored silent scream of the plants indicates the Park Service employees’ lack of knowledge of the desert ecology. As Tony and Ken are trapped in the canyon trail, fearing that they will be swept away with all debris by water, Zepeda comments that the flash floods “[touch] everything except the U.S. Park Service picnic tables. Heavy concrete remains steadfast in the midst of nature’s war zone.”31 While “[n]ature’s features reshaped, molested by watery monster,”32 the concrete picnic tables remain intact and untouched by the force of nature.

Though the park facilities are designed to fit in with the surroundings, the immovable picnic tables standing abruptly among the floods indicate that the facility is inadaptable to the ever- changing natural environment. Finally, Zepeda teases the Department of Transportation and

Flood Control of the untimely response with an answering machine message that lists all the extensions and says, “Emergencies after 5 P.M. call,”33 as if the department is not aware of the urgency of potential danger. According to the “January 1993 Floods Pima County, Arizona,

30 Zepeda, Ocean Power, 21-22.

31 Zepeda, 24.

32 Zepeda, 24.

33 Zepeda, 25.

Summary Report” provided by the Pima County Department of Transportation and Flood

Control District (PCDOT & FCD), emergency response personnel and contractors extended their working hours to ensure the safety of the threatened areas:

During the January 1993 Floods, the EOC (Emergency Operations Center) was initially activated at about 4:00 P.M. on January 7th, and remained operational until about 11:30 P.M. that night; it was reactivated several times during the next two weeks as conditions warranted…. PCDOT & FCD staff responds to emergency flood situations as prescribed in a Pima County document titled Disaster Control Plan- Departmental Standard Operating Procedures. As the Plan applies only to unincorporated Pima County, other jurisdictions such as the City of Tucson are responsible for their respective disaster and emergency response plans.34 Even though the Tohono O’odham Nation occupies most of the western portion of Pima County and a part of the Nation is just south of Tucson, the Tohono O’odham Nation lands are “just like the incorporated jurisdictions,”35 and “the County has no jurisdiction over the Nation.”36 Because emergencies take place within the boundary of the nation are likely to be directed to other departments, the Department of Transportation and Flood Control is not able to respond to emergencies such as Tony and Ken experience in “The Floods of 1993 and Others.” Zepeda ends the poem with “Please leave a message after the scream,” suggesting the Tohono O’odham people’s helplessness and their feeling of abandonment. Similar to the ignored silent scream of the plants and those of Tony and Ken, the O’odham people’s audible scream is likely to be overlooked due to the bureaucratic (mis)management. Deloria writes, “Satirical remarks often

34 Pima County Department of Transportation and Flood Control District, “January 1993 Floods, Pima County, Arizona, Summary Report,” (July 1993), 18. http://www.maps.pima.gov/RFCDimd/LibraryDocs/09/1993-01-01_09-0005-882.pdf

35 “Pima Prospers: Comprehensive Plan Initiative.” https://webcms.pima.gov/UserFiles/Servers/Server_6/File/Government/Pima%20Prospers/Offici al%20Plan/Appedix%20A%20Backgound%20and%20Current%20Condtions.pdf

36 “Pima Prospers: Comprehensive Plan Initiative.”

87 circumscribe problems so that possible solutions are drawn from the circumstances that would not make sense if presented in other than a humorous form.”37 Zepeda’s humorous teasing and seemingly satirical comments in “The Floods of 1993 and Others” indeed point out the problem of management and policy-making of a bureaucracy that is detached from the people and place it is meant to assist.

Zepeda utilizes storytelling and humor in “The Floods of 1993 and Others” to demonstrate O’odham people’s responds to the sudden flooding and affirm the power of healing in stories. Echoing Garrett’s argument that humor “serves the purpose of reaffirming and enhancing the sense of connectedness and resiliency experienced as being part of the family, clan, and tribe,”38 the juxtaposition of the urgencies caused by the floods, the incongruous presentation of the dislocated desert plants, and the boys in an awkward dancing pose when trapped in a canyon serve as a testament to the resilience embedded in Native humor.

Furthermore, such juxtaposition demonstrates the concept of all-my-relations that is significant to Native culture: that all forms of beings are alike, they are blessed with and threatened by forces of nature. As Zepeda tells “the story of harsh winter rain that flooded the desert,”39 she utilizes storytelling and humor into the poem to create a shared experience among the Tohono

O’odham people, emphasizing community, connectedness and healing. The feeling of abandonment and helplessness hidden in the humorous tone indicates the obstacles the community has experienced and reduces the likelihood of struggles over which people have no control. Using humor as an approach to countering unfortunate circumstances, in fact, shows the

37 Deloria, “Indian Humor,” 40.

38 Garrett, Garrett, and King, Indigenous Cultures and Mental Health Counselling, 30.

39 Zepeda, Ocean Power, 87.

88 powerful healing effect of perspective and reiterates the significance of the narrative of survival.

Deloria concludes, “When a people can laugh at themselves and laugh at others and hold all aspects of life together without letting anybody drive them to extremes, then it seems to me that that people can survive.”40 “The Floods of 1993 and Others” indeed showcases the use of humor when facing natural disasters. By telling the stories of the winter floods with humor, Zepeda demonstrates connectedness among humans, plants, and land, highlights the problems she sees unfit, and reaffirms the narrative of survival in “The Floods of 1993 and Others.”

Living on an Inland Island —Walis Nokan’s “Tribal Disaster Studies”

Just as the unexpected winter storm flooded the desert in Arizona as depicted in Zepeda’s

“The Floods of 1993 and Others,” so the Atayal communities in central Taiwan were ravaged by summer tropical storms that caused severe landslides in 2004, as described in Walis Nokan’s

“Tribal Disaster Studies.” In the title of the second section, “颱風的腳走上來了” [Here Comes the Typhoon] in 七日讀 [Reading in Seven Days],41 Walis Nokan contemplates the land, his people, and natural disasters, including typhoons, landslides, and earthquakes, because his home,

Miho community, is one of the communities in the most vulnerable location in the mountainous area in central Taiwan most devastated after the Jiji earthquake in 1999.42 Walis Nokan describes

40 Deloria, “Indian Humor,” 167.

41 Walis Nokan 瓦歷斯•諾幹, Qi ri du 七日讀 [Reading in Seven Days] (Taipei: Ink, 2016), 137. My translation. The most recent award Walis Nokan received is the Outstanding Contribution Award of the Nineth Taichung Literary Award in December 2020.

42 The great earthquake of September 21 in 1999, also known as the Jiji earthquake, was a 7.3 magnitude earthquake that occurred in in Jiji, Nantou County, in central Taiwan. The primary earthquake, along with the aftershocks, caused buildings and roads to collapse, which made the rescue more difficult for residents in the remote areas. Some sections of land near the Chelongpu Fault were raised as much as 23ft, changing the landscape and creating waterfalls. After the Jiji earthquake, the Council of Indigenous Peoples recommended that six Indigenous communities

89 the impact of the reshaped family orchard after the earthquake of September 21 as “如巨人般的

果園殘破成被肢解般的屍塊”43 [a giant-like orchard dismembered into broken body parts].

After Walis Nokan purchased another piece of land for his father to grow persimmons the next year, his father witnessed from afar “一個下午的土石流”44 [landslides lasting for the whole afternoon] as if he were watching a movie. Walis Nokan’s father was startled to find that “地會

動，山會走，土石也可以是流水”45 [the land moves, the mountains walk, and rocks and soil become liquid]. In addition to the earthquake, the seasonal tropical storms, or typhoons, bring not only heavy rains to the already fragile landscape but also potential danger to the local communities. As a result, Walis Nokan’s father and fellow elders apply traditional knowledge because “只有經歷災難，才學得如何利用有意識的知識以及了解這種知識的根源與整體”46

[by experiencing disasters, one is able to learn to utilize the [traditional] knowledge and understand the context of knowledge]. For example, Walis Nokan’s mother advocates for nature:

“土地太累了，讓它休息，不要打擾它，有一天，土地就會邀請你進來”47 [the land is too exhausted. Let it rest. Don’t disturb it. It will welcome you some day in the future]. The multiple experiences of encountering constant natural disasters not only highlight the Atayal traditional

relocate to other areas because heavy rainfalls would cause severe disasters, and Miho community, Walis Nokan’s hometown, was one of the relocated communities.

43 Walis Nokan, Reading in Seven Days, 137. My translation.

44 Walis Nokan, 140. My translation.

45 Walis Nokan, 140. My translation.

46 Walis Nokan, 164. My translation.

47 Walis Nokan, 140. My translation.

90 knowledge about their natural surroundings, but also seem to make everyone a crisis expert.

Walis Nokan’s “Tribal Disaster Studies” indeed reflects his objective, analytical and humorous perspective as an expert of disasters when facing Typhoon Aere in 2004. The prose poem is divided into eighteen sections in which he incorporates brief conversation among his family members and the almost impersonal description of the devastated communities. His seeming calm indicates that he has experienced natural disasters so many times that he has learned to adapt to the drastic natural changes. More importantly, his use of a humorous and sarcastic tone in “Tribal Disaster Studies,” while depicting the violent stormy night, demonstrates his people’s adaptability to the natural disasters and accentuates the resilience and survival of the community.

Because humor is considered the nature of Indigenous people in Taiwan society, the use of humor in Taiwan Indigenous texts, though noticeable, is often associated more with being amusing and entertaining than in relation to survival narratives. An anonymous Paiwan describes that tribal people use humor to ridicule each other to “讓生活好過一些”48 [make life easier]: “我

們是一台幽默翻譯機，把日常生活中的所有挫折、糗事或倒楣事輸入進去，翻出來都變得

很逗趣。原住民的幽默多源自於天性單純熱情[…] 藉由幽默的言行來應付生活中的挫折、

尷尬情境等，避免精神上的緊張、焦慮和痛苦等”49 [We’re a humor translator. You can key in all the frustration, embarrassment, and misery, and we can translate them into something entertaining. Humor of Indigenous people comes from our simple and passionate personality…

We use humor to deal with disappointment and humiliation so as to avoid nervousness, anxiety,

48 “Yuan zhu min de you mo fan yi ji 原住民的幽默翻譯機” [Indigenous People’s Humor Machine], Mata Taiwan, January 14, 2014. My translation. https://www.matataiwan.com/2014/01/22/indigenous-peoples-humor-machine/

49 “Indigenous People’s Humor Machine.” My translation.

91 and psychological pain]. Similarly, Payuma scholar Da-chun Sun attributes Indigenous humor to their cheerful temperament. He describes his experiences discussing community reconstruction after serious mudslides that damaged several communities in Taitung on the east coast of Taiwan when several tribal members started to sing an adapted nursery rhyme: “我家門前有土石流，後

面有漂流木，漂流木的上面有堰塞湖，隨時會潰流，沒關係，沒有關係，原民會有補助，

只要每天快樂喝酒，總會有永久屋”50 [Landslides in the front and drifting woods in the back.

A landslide dam on top that floods any day. It’s all right; it’s okay ‘cuz CIP will subsidize. Drink alcohol happily every day and you’ll have permanent housing to stay]. Sun comments, “配上可

愛的動作，風災的苦難彷彿一切凍結，像是大自然給我們製造的笑料” 51 [With childlike actions seems to put an end to all the hardship brought by typhoons. It seems like nature gives us materials to laugh about]. Both Sun and the anonymous Paiwan reporter indeed notice that

Taiwan Indigenous people utilize humor as an important approach to handling hardship; however, their observation emphasizes positive attitudes more than humor as a narrative of survival significant in Indigenous writing and culture.

The use of humor in “Tribal Disaster Studies” is more than amusing; Walis Nokan utilizes a sarcastic tone as a device to subvert the tragic representation of Indigenous people when facing natural disasters and to appreciate his people’s determination of survival in hardship. The sarcastic tone indeed implies a sense of superiority because Walis Nokan and his

50 Da-chuan Sun 孫大川, “Xu lengaw 序 lengaw” [Preface: lengaw] Qi ri du 七日讀 [Reading in Seven Days] (Taipei: Ink, 2016), 9. My translation. The original nursery rhyme is about the serene life of living in the countryside. The CIP stands for the Council of Indigenous Peoples which is the central interface for the Indigenous communities with the government. According to Sun, lengaw in Puyuma language means echo.

51 Sun, “Preface: lengaw,” 10. My translation.

92 people are knowledgeable and in control when facing calamities. In Humor in Contemporary

Native North American Literature, Eva Gruber follows sociologist Gary Alan Fine’s argument that conflict-humor such as irony, sarcasm, and parody is used within situations of conflicts so as to avoid potential aggression. Gruber applies such conflict-humor in the understanding of

Native-White relations and “the renegotiation of Nativeness within Native communities”52 so that the communities can keep them from repeating similar conflicts in the future. Rather than ridicule the government for not taking effective measures to lessen the damage caused by natural disasters, the sarcastic tone as a form of humor in “Tribal Disaster Studies” demonstrates Walis

Nokan and his people’s control in the devastated circumstances. For example, Walis Nokan addresses the poem as a form of “災難美學”53 [aesthetics of disaster] because numerous disasters have trained him and his people to be professionals who not only know how to deal with the difficult situations but also to view disasters as a unique narrative for them to understand their relationship with the land and the community. Echoing Gruber’s negotiation within communities with conflict-humor, “Tribal Disaster Studies” shows different approaches

Indigenous people learn from nature and natural disasters. In doing so, the traditional knowledge is strengthened, the bond between people, land, and culture is reaffirmed, and the narrative of survival is invigorated.

Like the silent scream in Zepeda’s “The Floods of 1993 and Others,” Walis Nokan demonstrates emotional detachment in “Tribal Disaster Studies” to suggest that the community

52 Eva Gruber, Humor in Contemporary Native North American Literature (Rochester: Camden House, 2008), 37.

53 Walis Nokan 瓦歷斯•諾幹, 2016. “Zai nan mei xue” 災難美學 [Aesthetics of disaster], Facebook (Oct. 21, 2016). My translation. https://www.facebook.com/photo?fbid=347193905615637&set=a.104905663177797

93 has become so experienced in natural disasters that they are calm when facing potential threats brought by Typhoon Aere. As if writing a weather observation report, Walis Nokan describes a scenario and raises a question: “當艾利攜帶中心最大風速三十五公尺，相當於十二級風以及

擁載女王般的密集雨量抵達台灣島嶼，我與我山區族人足以抵禦現實的考驗嗎？”54

[When Typhoon Aere arrives the island of Taiwan, with its highest speed of wind at seventy- seven miles per hour, level twelve hurricane force, and extreme heavy rain as if clustered for the queen’s arrival, are my people in the mountain and myself able to survive?] To answer his question, Walis Nokan observes his children’s reaction firstly. His children watch the weather forecast silently to learn the most updated information about Typhoon Aere. Afterwards, his youngest son reports to Walis Nokan that water supply has been cut off. As the intensity of rainfall and wind speed strengthens deep into the night, the children manage to “學著海洋一般

入睡” 55 [sleep like an ocean] despite the fact that they are worried about the potential danger of the typhoon. The reaction of Walis Nokan’s children, such as gathering information, reporting problems, and self-soothing, indeed suggests that they have been trained to cope with typhoons and related calamities since their young age as if there were a protocol for them to follow. In fact, Typhoon Aere was not the first typhoon in Taiwan in 2004. Earlier in late June and early

July in 2004, Typhoon Mindulle with intensity stronger than Typhoon Aere ravaged Taiwan, causing several river floods and landslides, destroying roads, railroads and bridges, resulting in

54 Walis Nokan, Reading in Seven Days, 173. My translation. I converted the wind speed from meter-per-second to mile-per-hour. The phrase “extreme heavy rain as if clustered for the queen’s arrival” may not make sense for non-Taiwanese Mandarin readers; however, Walis Nokan uses the image of thousands of people gathering to see a queen to describe the high intensity of rainfall.

55 Walis Nokan, 177. My translation.

94 water and electricity outrage.56 The roads that lead to Walis Nokan’s community and the neighboring communities were blocked by overflowing rivers and mudslides for days. Shortly after Typhoon Mindulle came Typhoon Aere. As a result, the communities in the area were able to react swiftly and calmly because they were used to the situation. Moreover, when Walis

Nokan’s family is surprised that they still have electricity the next morning, they turn on the television “我們正像看著電影一樣的觀看著災難的來臨”57 [to watch the arrival of natural disasters as if we were watching a movie]. The apparent emotional detachment shows the composure of the family and subverts the stereotype of being helpless and in despair when facing the recurring disasters after each typhoon. The more Walis Nokan repeats how emotionally controlled they are, the more readers are aware of the increasing danger of the possible overflowing rivers and landslides. Kristina Fagan observes that though humor is communal because it is shared among a family or a community, humor can be “a way to displace, condense, and examine various social tensions, anxieties and contradictions.”58 Walis Nokan’s sense of humor in describing the reaction of his family indeed demonstrates a means of survival through controlling anxieties in the threatening situations.

The narrative of survival is illustrated by Walis Nokan’s observation of his father’s determination to protect his persimmon orchard because it suggests his commitment to the land

56 Typhoon Mindulle was the strongest typhoon that influenced Taiwan in 2004, and it caused the worst flooding since Typhoon Toraji in 2001. Typhoon Mindulle claimed more than forty lives, including missing people. The economic damage was approximately three hundred million US dollars in Taiwan alone.

57 Walis Nokan, Reading in Severn Days, 179. My translation.

58 Kristina Fagan, “Teasing, Tolerating, Teaching: Laughter and Community in Native Literature,” in Me Funny, ed Drew Hayden Taylor (Vancouver: Douglas & McIntyre, 2005), 43.

95 and connectedness with the Atayal ancestors. Walis Nokan’s father used to own an orange grove; however, his orchard was damaged by Typhoon Herb in 1996, and then ruined by the great earthquake of September 21 in 1999. His father was devasted at the loss of his precious orchard, but he told Walis Nokan with relief that he could finally stopped his “做山”59 [labor in the mountains]. As a result, his father seemed to lose life goals because “無所事事的枯坐著，不論

在白天或者黑夜，有如停格的時間的片段”60 [he just sat there, day or night, as if time pauses at that moment]. It was not until Walis Nokan had purchased another piece of land that his father finally regained high spirits by attending to his persimmon orchard carefully and cheerfully even though seasonal tropical storms and occasional mudslides still could destroy the orchard. The significance of the orchard and the previous grove indicate the close relationship between the land and Walis Nokan’s father. The father has lived in the same community for decades and the mountains were in fact the traditional Atayal hunting ground, which Walis Nokan calls “祖父之

地的森林”61 [the forest of my forefathers]. After the arrival of the Kuomintang government in

1949, the land has become government owned, and the size of tribal land decreased in size; as a result, tribal members were forced to hunt and grow crops within the limited areas. Furthermore, the seasonal and unexpected natural disasters “吃掉了工寮”62 [devour temporary lodgings,] and destroy the already limited land. Walis Nokan’s father is frustrated with the recurrent damages, but he still attends to his orchard because the orchard represents his connection with the land and

59 Walis Nokan, Reading in Seven Days, 175. My translation.

60 Walis Nokan, 175. My translation.

61 Walis Nokan, 178. My translation.

62 Walis Nokan, 178. My translation.

Atayal ancestors. In “Tribal Disaster Studies,” Walis Nokan listens to the little noises of his father and knows that his father wakes up in the early morning and gets ready to maintain the orchard regardless of the heavy rain and strong wind brought by Typhoon Aere: “父親還是在大

雨暫歇的不注意的空擋奔向果園吧!”63 [Father eventually ran to his orchard during rain intervals] because each persimmon is “父親的地球”64 [the world to my father]. The father’s determination to look after his orchard suggests a narrative of survival because he acknowledges the hardship on and about the land and still strives to maintain and protect the land of the ancestors. Walis Nokan’s depiction of his father is empathetic because he understands that the survival of land indicates the survival of his people. Walis Nokan explains that his Atayal identity is so closely related to the land that “透過暸解自身居住生存的空間以往曾經流動哪

些歷史事件、感人事蹟，不正是對自我認同的一個開端與啟蒙?” 65 [knowing the historical events and anecdotes of the space that one lives in is exactly the beginning and enlightenment of one’s identity, isn’t it?] The father’s relentless effort to take care of the orchard honors the land of the ancestors, accentuates the Atayal identity, and demonstrates a narrative of survival.

Although Walis Nokan’s object and keen observations of his community may seem tragic, they in fact demonstrate the endurance and resilience of the community. Despite the fact

63 Walis Nokan, 178. My translation.

64 Walis Nokan, 178. My Translation.

65 Walis Nokan 瓦歷斯•諾幹, “Di ming kou chuan yu guo jia tong zhi de bian yi yi tai ya ren Vai Beinox (bei shi qun )wei li 地名、口傳與國家統治的變異—以泰雅人 Vai Beinox (北勢群)為例 [The Transformation of Place Names, Oral Tradition, and Governance: A Case Study of Atayal Vai Beinox] Shou jie tai wan min jian wen xue xue shu yan tao hui lun wen ji 首屆台灣民間文學學術研討會論文集 [The First Conference Proceeding of Taiwan Folklore Studies] (Changhua: Huangxi Cultural Center, 1997), 334. My translation.

97 that Taiwan is a mountainous island, there has been little research about the impact of landslides on natural surroundings and community development.66 The area of Walis Nokan’s community and the nearby communities is called Tbulan, which means the vast land of abundant water and rich soil in Atayal language. It was considered a Taiwan “Xanadu” until the great earthquake of

September 21. Afterwards, the geological structures of the area have become fragile and are easily influenced by even slight earthquakes and rainfall. In What Landslides Have Taught Me? published in 2010, the Soil and Water conservation Bureau of Taiwan documents the impact of major mudslides on Indigenous communities. Chi-hway Chen, a retired police patrolman, recalls that all the tribal communities demonstrated life and energy in reconstructing their home after the great earthquake in 1999, and their efforts paid off because they were voted the model communities of reconstruction. However, the two consecutive Typhoons Mindulle and Aere, in

2004, crushed the spirit of the tribal people because all the roads were cut off by flooding and the beautiful communities were covered in debris. A survivor of the landslides describes, “土石流來

時，溪裡面的石頭相互撞擊的聲音就像打雷一樣轟轟作響”67 [When landslides came, the clanging sounds of rocks were just like the sound of thunder]. Because all the bridges were damaged by debris, the area “形同孤島”68 [was like a lonely island]. Similarly, Walis Nokan

66 According to the data provided by the Digital Museum of Debris Flow in Taiwan, the earliest landslide record can be traced back to 1959 when the mountainous areas in central Taiwan were submerged by debris. It was not until Typhoon Cecil caused another landslide near greater Taipei area in 1982 that there were a few related researches the influences of landslides. See http://www.hmhsieh.idv.tw/mis2005/www/project1.html.

67 Soil and Water Conservation Bureau, Council of Agriculture, Executive Yuan 行政院農業委員會水土保持局, Na xie tu shi liu jiao wo de shi 那些土石流教我的事 [What Landslides Have Taught Me] (Taipei: Bookzone, 2010), 43. My translation.

68 Soil and Water Conservation Bureau, 45. My translation.

98 uses the island as a metaphor in “Tribal Disaster Studies” to suggests the isolation and vulnerability of his community after natural disasters. Both his wife and mother have bad dreams about waking up to an ocean of mud and debris as if their house were “宛如孤島似的”69 [as if it were a lonely island]. The feeling of abandonment is proven real when police patrols come to tell the family that the roads to the community are damaged, as Walis Nokan describes, “我們已經

成為這座島嶼中無數個內陸孤島之一，我與我的家人甚至是部落族人似乎已經習以為常以

至於表現出驚人的鎮定”70[My community has become one of the countless lonely inland islands on the island (of Taiwan). My family and I, and even my tribal people are so getting used to it that we exhibit astounding serenity]. The calm of Walis Nokan’s family and tribal people, rather than suggesting submission to the disasters, represents their assurance and resilience when facing hardship. Moreover, the sarcastic tone indicates the sense of control Walis Nokan and his people have. It also implies that they are able to survive another disaster because of the accumulated knowledge and experience. In What Landslides Have Taught Me? a local Atayal tells the reporters the close relationship between his people and the land: “對松鶴部落的泰雅族

人來說，家在哪裡，愛就在哪裡，即便歷經災變，源源不絕的生命力，也將從那裡培根長

起”71 [For Atayals in Tbulan, home is where our love is. Despite frequent disasters, the persistent life force is rooted here and grows stronger here]. In “Tribal Disaster Studies,” Walis Nokan shows his deep affection for the land and his community in a detached or even sarcastic tone

69 Walis Nokan, Reading in Seven Days, 175. My translation.

70 Walis Nokan, 179. My translation.

71 Soil and Water Conservation Bureau, 41. My translation.

99 because he understands his people are able to survive another natural disaster, and they are as strong and persistent as the land survives disasters.

Rather than creating comic visions to make people laugh, the use of humor in “Tribal

Disaster Studies” demonstrates that humor is a form of coping mechanism and a narrative of survival. In “Striking the Pole: American Indian Humor,” Joseph Bruchac uses sacred clowns in

Native American cultures to explain their significance. The sacred clowns, whether they are masked dancers, Pueblo kachina figures or Lakota heyoka, have the ability to provoke and the power to heal. Bruchac writes, “The role of the clown is not to take our minds off our troubles, but to point out ways to survive and even laugh.”72 That is to say, the significance of humor is not just to alleviate suffering; it teaches us to manage the unpleasant and unexpected situations with different perspectives. Similarly, Fagan points out that humor in the works of Native writers represents a means of coping: “Humour is shown as offering a sense of relief and an acceptance of circumstance in the face of danger or tragedy.”73 Furthermore, Fagan suggests that humor is

“a complex teaching tool”74 because it teaches people lessons about life that encompass the good and the bad, and conflicts and negotiations. The humor in “Tribal Disaster Studies” demonstrates the importance of coping with difficult circumstances, including natural disasters and emotional distress, and signals the narrative of survival. Rather than writing about amusing dialogue or behavior, Walis Nokan and his people show persistence and resilience because the land is their home, and it represents the Atayal identity. On facing tragedy with humor, Bruchac writes

72 Joseph Bruchac, “Striking the Pole: American Indian Humor,” Parabola 12 (Nov. 1987), 28.

73 Fagan, “Teasing, Tolerating, Teaching,” 26.

74 Fagan, 32.

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“laugh with us not at us.”75 Similarly, an important message in “Tribal Disaster Studies” is:

Don’t laugh at their determination to stay and efforts to reconstruct; laugh with them to celebrate survival and healing.

Conclusion

In addition to the commonly known trickster discourse that utilizes ceremonial buffoons or animal tricksters to show the corrective approach in Native humor, studies of Indigenous humor acknowledge the empowerment, survival, and healing significant to Indigenous communities. For example, Kenneth Lincoln shows diverse Native humor in literary texts and personal experience in Indi’n Humor: Bicultural Play in Native America. Drew Hayden Taylor puts together My Funny that demonstrates the nature of Indigenous humor and its significance for helping people to face conflicts. Eva Gruber’s Humor in Contemporary Native North

American Literature: Reimagining Nativeness (2008) highlights the link between humor and

Indigenous identity. Freya Schiwy finds shared concerns between Indigenous humor and humor in Indigenous Latin American cinema in “Who’s Laughing Now? Indigenous Media and the

Politics of Humor” in Humor in Latin American Cinema (2016). In October 2020, in the special issue of Studies in American Humor on Native and Indigenous humor, scholars consider humor as survivance, empowerment to strengthen Indigenous identity, and solidarity when facing obstacles. It is important to note that Indigenous humor is never individual, but communal because of the shared knowledge and context. Artist James Luna comments on humor as a way of countering tragedy: “In Native humor, you can make fun of anything and even at the worst times… but I think what I came to realize is that it’s a way of easing the pain, that laughter is a

75 Bruchac, 26.

101 good cure and that maybe if we didn’t laugh so much, we would be depressed.”76 That is to say,

Indigenous humor disrupts stereotypes just like tricksters do and restores balance with laughter.

Moreover, Indigenous humor is not just observed in daily conversation; it can be applied to the process of healing and mental health.

The recent application of Indigenous humor to different genre, such as writing, music, and performance, suggests the creativity and adaptability of Indigenous people. Thomas King shows humor and sarcasm in the radio show The Dead Dog Café Comedy Hour which ran from

1997 to 2000. King implements his fictional characters in the radio show in which the characters provide political critiques and social commentary and make fun of cultural stereotypes against

Indigenous people. Similarly, the 1491s, a Native American sketch comedy group whose name is a reference to the last year before Columbus’s discovery of the New World, has used humor and satire to explore and criticize issues such as racism, and injustice via YouTube since the successful video “The Wolf Pack Auditions” went viral in 2009.77 Moreover, Aboriginal stand- up comedy has been increasingly recognizable in Australia’s comedy industry. For example,

Melbourne’s International Comedy Festival held its first Deadly Funny competition in 2007, and recently there are TV shows such as Black Comedy and 8 MMM that star aboriginal comedians and performers. The aboriginal performers use humor and laughter to make connections and

“demonstrate an insightful pride in their own cultural heritage.”78 Ponay, an amateur Amis singer

76 James Luna, “A Native American Man,” Art on the Edge and Over: Searching for Art’s Meaning in Contemporary Society, 1970s-1990s (Litchfield: Art Insights, 1996), 101.

77 See 1491s http://www.1491s.com/ and https://www.youtube.com/user/the1491s

78 Karen Austin, “Deadly Funny: The Aboriginal Stand-Up Comedians Cracking up Australia,” ABC NEWS Australia, March 29, 2017. https://www.abc.net.au/news/2017-03- 29/deadly-funny-the-aboriginal-comedians-cracking-up-australia/8396586

102 in Taiwan, transforms popular Taiwanese songs into traditional Amis rhythm and deliberately sings in Amis accents. His YouTube videos have attracted attention and invited several famous

Taiwan Indigenous singers to join his creation; moreover, his intentional exaggeration in accents and melody make him a postindian warrior who liberates negative Indigenous stereotypes with new Indigenous voices. In a recent article “How Wendy Red Star Decolonizes the Museum with

Humor and Play,” Salma Monani and Nicole Seymour look into Red Star’s museum displays and find “humor, playfulness, and irony to Indigenous representation” 79 in her works. In the embedded video, Red Star explains that her intention is to show the living Crow culture to the public because Indigenous cultures have been fossilized. The Indigenous artists use different methods to demonstrate the significance of humor in their life and cultures, and affirm

Indigenous presence and highlight the narrative of survival in their works.

The significance of Indigenous humor is multifold because it provides alternative perspectives when facing obstacles, it implies the will of survival in the face of colonialization and oppressions, and it empowers Indigenous communities with resistance and healing. Drew

Hayden Taylor writes, “Humour requires intelligence. It calls for the ability to take in information, deconstruct it and reconstruct it in a new, improved, refined format. The humorist then reintroduces that information to the world to achieve a completely different reaction.”80 In other words, humor helps people to form different perspectives when facing hardship. In

“Answering the Deer: Genocide and Continuance in the Poetry of American Indian Women,”

79 Salma Monani and Nicole Seymore, “How Wendy Red Star Decolonizes the Museum with Humor and Play,” Edge Effects Oct. 8, 2020. https://edgeeffects.net/wendy-red- star/?fbclid=IwAR0okl1muc8idl-V_Oekjc4pLejmYeRtmONKkJHXdd5Wy0QpQgexKBOT7Eg

80 Drew Hayden Taylor, “Introduction,” in Me Funny, ed. Drew Hayden Taylor (Vancouver, Douglas & McIntyre, 2005), 3.

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Paula Gunn Allen sees humor as the best weapon to confront the continuing impact of colonization:

Aside from the obvious emotional, social, and psychological considerations implied in this observation, the interesting thing about the use of humor in American Indian poetry is its integrating effect: it makes tolerable what is otherwise unthinkable; it allows a short of breathing space in which an entire race can take stock of itself and its future. Humor is a primary means of reconciling the tradition of continuance, bonding, and celebration with the stark facts of racial destruction.81 Even though Allen looks into humor in Native American poetry, her critical perspective can be applied not just to Native American texts but also global Indigenous texts because of the shared colonialist past and similar traumatic histories. The juxtaposition of Zepeda’s “The Floods of

1993 and Others” and Walis Nokan’s “Tribal Disaster Studies” demonstrates the impact of natural disasters on Indigenous land and people, and Trans-Pacific Dialogue shows that the use of humor in both texts functions as a form of coping mechanism, serves as a form of healing, and accentuates the narrative of survival. Zepeda uses humor to show the urgency of the winter floods, including the ravaged landscape, the helpless Tohono O’odham people, and the untimely assistance from the government. She utilizes humor as an approach to countering difficult times and emphasizes the narrative of survival. Similarly, the humor in Walis Nokan’s “Tribal Disaster

Studies” shows the adaptability and the relentless energy of the land and the Atayal people. The repeated natural threats, though devastating, make the Atayal communities strive to survive.

Bruchac writes, “If laughter is, as many have said, only the other side of tragedy, then learning something about the humor of a people also means learning something about their history.”82

Therefore, humor in both “The Floods of 1993 and Others” and “Tribal Disaster Studies” teach

81 Paula Gunn Allen, The Sacred Hoop: Recovering the Feminine in American Indian Traditions (Boston: Beacon Press, 1986), 159.

82 Joseph Bruchac, 24.

104 the close connection the people have had with the land and the hardship they have endured and survived. That is to say, humor in both texts highlights the narrative of survival.

105

Chapter 3

Writing Home, Writing Memories in Thomas King’s Truth & Bright Water and

Rimuy Aki’s The Hometown of Lapaw

Home is an important trope in literature. Though characters leave home, return home, and make home for various reasons, their shared goal is to search for identity and a sense of belonging. The home is more than a physical place; rather, it indicates a sense of belonging because it encompasses the shared memories and experiences that the characters identify with. In contrast to the protagonists’ leaving home to accomplish goals in the traditional Western trope,

William Bevis argues in his “Native American Novels: Homing In” that in Indigenous texts, the protagonist’s return provides an opportunity to revisit Indigenous history and reconnect with the community. Upon returning home, characters in Indigenous texts seek to re-establish connections to family, extended family, community, rituals, and cultures. While journeying characters all intend to find their identity, Indigenous characters find the self not in isolation but in a “transpersonal” way.1 In other words, the concept of Indigenous identity is inseparable from community, history, and place— the collective and tribal identity. To demonstrate the entanglement of home and identity, Cherokee writer Thomas King and Atayal writer Rimuy Aki incorporates stories of home and a sense of belonging in their texts to create Trans-Pacific

Dialogue of home-coming and home-making. The concept of home is a crucial medium of collective identity in King’s Truth & Bright Water and Rimuy’s 山櫻花的故鄉 [The Hometown

1 William Bevis, “Native American Novels: Homing In,” in Recovering the Word: Essays on Native American Literature, ed. Brian Swan and Arnold Krupat (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1987), 585.

106 of Lapaw].2 Set along the international border between the United States of America and Canada, the locations of the two fictitious towns, Truth and Bright Water, King’s Truth & Bright Water disrupts the political boundary and suggests a shared Indigenous experience. While the novel implicitly depicts issues such as the loss of land and culture, alcoholism, domestic violence, and poor economy on the reservation, the return of a mysterious figure, Monroe Swimmer, seems to provide hope for the community with his unusual project of home (re)making and returning.

Writing across the continent and the Pacific Ocean, Rimuy utilizes Bawnay Lesa’s family story of migration from the north to the south of Taiwan to reflect the collective memory of displacement of the Atayal people in the early 1960s. Though away from home, the Bawnay family strives to maintain the Atayal tradition by growing lapaw, the Taiwanese mountain cherry tree, so as to create a sense of belonging in a foreign territory. The two texts, one focusing on returning home and the other homemaking, demonstrate each author’s concern toward home and identity.

Home is crucial in understanding Truth & Bright Water and The Hometown of Lapaw because it provides a decolonizing discourse that home is the embodiment of collective memories and tribal identity. The notion of home is understood differently by Indigenous people and non-Indigenous ones. Scrutinizing the concept of home, Bevis observes that plots of leaving are prevalent in the traditional American literature because of the influence from “four centuries of colonial expansion.”3 He finds that characters in texts such as St. Jean de Crèvecoeur’s Letters

2 The original title is translated as The Hometown of Taiwanese Mountain Cherry Trees. Rimuy Aki uses lapaw, Taiwanese mountain cherry trees in Atayal language frequently in the novel. Therefore, I use lapaw to show the significance of Atayal language and culture in the novel. There are two translations of Rimuy’s name in English, Rimuy and Rimui, and Rimuy is more commonly used.

3 Bevis, “Native American Novels: Homing In,” 581.

107 from an American Farmer, Herman Melville’s Moby Dick, and Mark Twain’s Huckleberry Finn leave home for better opportunities and personal adventure in a new land. Therefore, leaving home bears a positive implication of expansion and quest while returning home suggests a negative indication of “regressing to a place”4 because of failure to succeed. Quite the contrary, home in Native American texts indicates the close relationship the characters share with the family, place, and community; furthermore, it is through the bond to the people, place, history, and culture that the characters reconnect to “a primary mode of knowledge and a primary good.”5

To return home is not regression; rather, it helps the characters to recover and restore what is forgotten and missing. The plots of returning home or making home in Indigenous texts indeed dismantle the colonial imposition and echo the decolonizing methodologies proposed by Linda

Tuhiwai Smith’s Decolonizing Methodologies. Smith scrutinizes the influence of “imperial eyes”6 that Indigenous people have been seen as the other and the object for discovery and discipline from the Western academic perspective, resulting in alienation from their own culture and knowledge. Therefore, Smith urges a new approach to challenge imperialism with “a different epistemological tradition which frames the way we see the world, the way we organize ourselves in it, the questions we ask and the solutions we seek.”7 The decolonizing methodologies center on Indigenous knowledge and practice and make local, reginal and global dialogue possible among the Indigenous worlds. Home as a medium in King’s and Rimuy’s texts

4 Bevis, 582.

5 Bevis, 582.

6 Linda Tuhiwai Smith, Decolonizing Methodologies: Research and Indigenous Peoples, (London and New York: Zed Books, 1999), 56.

7 Smith, 188.

108 indeed demonstrate Indigenous perspectives of recovery and survival for individual, community and culture.

Drawing on Truth & Bright Water and The Hometown of Lapaw, I intend to scrutinize the concept of home with the two texts because the authors use different approaches, King on returning home and Rimuy making home, to create a sense of belonging with shared memories and experiences. Truth & Bright Water challenges readers to reconsider a borderless world with two fictional border towns, Truth and Bright Water, where Indigenous people of various communities come to celebrate the annual Indian Day Festival. Of all the people who return for the festival, Monroe Swimmer’s return is the most surprising because besides his return to the reservation, he returns the Native skulls to the ancestral land and transforms the landscape to the pre-colonial status without a church and with bison. The plot of returning home in Truth &

Brightwater demonstrates Monroe’s intention to decolonize the land and culture and to create a sense of belonging among Native communities. Rimuy, on the other hand, depicts the significance of the Atayal culture and rituals with the story of the Bawnay family. The family leave their hometown, Skaru Village, to San-ming Village, home to the Bunun people, to seek a better life with abundant natural resources such as land and game animals.8 Living up to the

Atayal tradition of respect, generosity and honesty despite hardship, the Bawnay family becomes an integral part of the community in San-ming Village. Home of Lapaw ends with the Bawnay

8 Skaru Village is situated in Wufong Township in Hsinchu County, a mountainous area. Demographically, Atayal and Saisiat tribes are the major Indigenous population in this area. San- ming Village, which means The Three Principles of the People, was to commemorate Dr. Sun yat-sen. The name San-ming Village had been used until 2007 when it was officially changed to Namasia District. Tribal delegates decided the name San-ming did not reflect the history of the area and thus changed it to Namasia to commemorate a teenage hero of the same name who saved his tribe, Kanakanavu, from a major flood that would have devasted the whole village. The major population in Namasia District is the Bunun people.

109 family’s return to Skaru Village, which symbolizes the circular journey significant in Atayal culture—the return to the gamil, the root. The Bawnay family finds a sense of belonging in the

Atayal culture and the shared experiences with the Bunun people. The incorporation of the

Atayal language in the novel reiterates the family’s identity as the proud Atayal people. The juxtaposition of the two texts demonstrates the shared concerns of home and a sense of belonging through collective tribal histories in trans-Pacific indigeneity. The home in Truth &

Bright Water represents an Indigenous way of decolonizing Native histories. On the other hand, the home in Home of Lapaw lies in the firm belief in the Atayal tradition and culture through

Rimuy’s vivid description of the Atayal rituals and lifeways that the novel can be read as an ethnography of the Atayal history. As both writers present fictional worlds with focus on

Indigenous knowledge in the juxtaposition of the two Indigenous texts, Trans-Pacific Dialogue demonstrates the shared concerns of an interwoven relationship of home and identity.

Home-returning: A Decolonizing Approach in Truth & Bright Water

Returning-home is an important theme in King’s writing: the home the characters return to include a mythical world in Green Grass, Running Water, a reservation in Medicine River, a global community in The Back of the Turtle. King’s exploration of home in Truth & Bright

Water challenges the national border by insinuating a borderless community with stories heavily embedded with Native American historical events and the depiction of Monroe Swimmer’s mysterious project of restoration and returning suggests a decolonizing approach to the understanding of home-returning. The combination of the name, Monroe Swimmer, insinuates the unusual characteristics of the character because Swimmer was a Cherokee healer in the late nineteenth century and President James Monroe pushed for the Cherokee Removals; therefore, the name creates a tension between the Native and the colonial history. Unlike Tecumseh, a

110

Shawnee warrior who was a persuasive orator and a hero in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, the teenage character Tecumseh of the novel is not an omniscient narrator who provides objective and thorough depictions of the place and the people; rather, his observation is partial and sometimes indicates his lack of knowledge about his surroundings such as the domestic violence his cousin Lum has experienced, the mysterious and devastating past of his aunt Cassie, the fallout of his parents’ marriage, and the profound Native American history.

However, like Tecumseh who was devoted to promote unity among Indigenous communities, the character Tecumseh reveals pan-tribal issues in the novel.9 From Tecumseh’s perspective,

Monroe is an incomprehensible person who is full of mysteries and stories. The more Tecumseh spends time with Monroe, the more he is bewildered by his project. Upon returning to the reservation, Monroe purchases a church and paints the church “so that it blends in with the prairies and the sky.”10 Later, Monroe tells Tecumseh about his former project of restoration is to restore paintings by adding Indians back to the painting. Finally, Monroe reveals another secret mission—returning the Indigenous human skulls from museums to the land where they belong to. Monroe’s project of restoration and returning suggests a desire to undo the colonial influence by reclaiming the land and the culture and returning the skulls. Bud Hirsch argues that Monroe is not a savior because he does not have the magical ability to undo the history; however, his project of reclaiming, restoration, and returning teaches an important lesson-- “how to survive

9 See Evelyn P. Mayer, “Thomas King’s Truth & Bright Water (1999): Native De/Bordering,” Narrating North American Borderlands: Thomas King, Howard F. Mosher, and Jim Lynch (Frankfurt: Peter Lang, 2014), 65-113.

10 Thomas King, Truth& Bright Water (New York: Grove Press, 2000), 43.

111 the agony of loss.”11 Indeed, the agony comes from the colonial influence and injustice that have imposed on Natives. Therefore, Monroe’s project provides a decolonizing approach with resistance to be erased from history and stories to give voices to those who are neglected.

A decolonizing approach is instructive because it prioritizes the Indigenous knowledge and cultures, and centers on cultural survival and healing. As an Indigenous scholar specializing in Indigenous education, Smith finds a lack of Indigenous epistemology and voice in the traditional Western academia. The colonial imposition of viewing Indigenous people as others reduces the importance of Indigenous knowledge, language and culture. She sketches the history of the Western gaze on Indigenous people from Hegel to Foucault in which she argues that

Western researchers draw from “systems of classification, representation and evaluation”12 and neglect that Indigenous knowledge is comprised of cultures, traditions, stories, and relationships.

It angers us when practices linked to the last century, and the centuries before that, are still employed to deny the validity of indigenous people’s claim to existence, to land and territories, to the right of self-determination, to the survival of our languages and forms of cultural knowledge, to our natural resources and systems for living within our environments.13

As a result, Smith proposes decolonizing methodologies to counter the destructive power of imperialism and colonialism on Indigenous people, and creates an Indigenous Research

Agenda14 that recognizes and prioritizes Indigenous culture and survival. Derived from the

11 Bud Hirsch, “Stay Calm. Be Brave. Wait of the Signs: Sign-Offs and Send-Ups in the Fiction of Thomas King,” Western American Literature 39, no. 2 (Summer 2004), 154.

12 Smith, Decolonizing Methodologies, 45.

13 Smith, 1.

14 Smith, 121

112

Agenda, Smith’s “Twenty-five Indigenous Project”15 seeks to promote Indigenous voice and epistemology and collaboration among Indigenous communities. Smith considers that the

Indigenous-centered approaches demand “the need to take back control of [their] destinies”16 and

“pursuit of social justice.”17 The twenty-five projects focus on reconnecting to the culture and history through storytelling and language revitalization. By reestablishing relationships with other communities and the world, people are able to survive through hardship and envision a future with Indigenous impact. Witnessing the positive impact of decolonizing methodologies in

Maori communities on language and culture revitalization and Indigenous-centered research approaches, Smith contends, “Indigenous peoples across the world have other stories to tell which not only question the assumed nature of those ideals and the practices that the generate, but also serve to tell an alternative story.”18 Centering Indigenous knowledge and culture and engaging in Indigenous conversations and practices indeed resist colonial imposition and decolonize with alternative Indigenous stories.

The concept of borderlessness has been a recurrent concern of King because it resists the national and political border and demonstrates a space of possibility for Indigenous people. Truth

& Bright Water begins with a vivid description of the geography of the two border towns: “Truth and Bright Water sit on opposite sides of the river, the railroad town on the American side, the reserve in Canada.”19 The border towns Truth and Bright Water are regarded as one community

15 See Linda Tuhiwai Smith, “Twenty-five Indigenous Projects,” Decolonizing Methodologies, London and New York: Zed Books, 1999), 143-164.

16 Smith, 143.

17 Smith, 143.

18 Smith, 2.

19 King, Truth & Bright Water, 1.

113 because the two towns share similar scenery, economic difficulty, and families and friends, indicating the shared culture rather than the separation.20 For example, before moving to Truth for better job opportunities, Tecumseh’s family used to live in Bright Water where his grandmother and cousin still live. In fact, people travel back and forth Truth and Bright Water frequently regardless of the national divide. Similar to the meaningless border, the bridge that unsuccessfully connects Truth and Bright Water demonstrates the ineffective government-funded project which was meant to boost local tourism. With a halt in the construction of the bridge, people are disappointed at the loss of the economic opportunities and low employment. Without a properly functioning bridge, local residents and travelers either take a detour or the aging ferry to reach the other side of the river. When chatting with friends about the poor economy, a character Gabriel Tucker complains, “A bridge like that would never have kicked the economy in the ass and got it jumping.”21 The useless bridge and the meaningless national border alike imply the failed colonial scheme. The river that runs across the two towns, on the other hand, indeed functions as a favored natural boundary accepted by the community. For instance, when

Tecumseh and his mother Helen cross the river to visit the grandmother in Bright Water, Helen says, “[The river] has been here since the beginning of time”22 that predates the constructions of the national border and the bridge. Moreover, Tecumseh is surprised to learn that “the Canadian/

United States border ran right through the middle of the lake”23 because he expected to see “a

20 According to the description in the novel, the towns are at the border of Alberta, Canada and Montana, the United States of America, home to the ancestral and present-day Blackfeet.

21 King, Truth & Bright Water, 166.

22 King, 52.

23 King, 78.

114 floating fence or inner tubes with barbed wire and lights […] to keep people from staying from one country into the other.”24 While the construction and reinforcement of the national border suggests a colonial strain, the natural world indicates both transformation and adaptation.

Contrast to Tecumseh’s naïve rendering of the national border, Helen’s Indigenous perspective indeed demonstrates what Davidson calls “mutability over the fixity”25-- favoring the natural world over the arbitrary separation. Therefore, the river as natural boundary decolonizes the governmental project and provides the community with a space full of possibilities.

The return of the mysterious Monroe challenges the negative connotation of home- returning in the traditional Western narrative and his staying in the borderland between Truth and

Bright Water resists the national boundary and indicates a sense of survivance. Of all the characters in Truth & Bright Water, Monroe is considered a celebrated figure because of his successful career as “the big-time artist,” as Lum calls him.26 However, Monroe’s return puzzles the community because they have internalized the idea that leaving-home means expanding one’s world while returning-home suggests failure to succeed. For example, Lum tells Tecumseh that “nobody comes back to Truth and Bright Water unless they’re crazy or dying,”27 or worse, suicidal. Because Monroe does not show signs of agony and misfortune, he becomes the object of scorn that his success comes merely from his Indian identity. When the community members gather to gossip about Monroe’s accomplishment, Miles thinks otherwise. “Miles figured

24 King, 78.

25 Arnold E. Davidson, Priscilla L. Walton, and Jennifer Andrews, Border Crossings: Thomas King’s Cultural Inversions (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 2003), 143.

26 King, Truth & Bright Water, 6.

27 King, 67.

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Monroe got lucky, that he landed in Toronto just as being an Indian was becoming chic, and that if he hadn’t been Indian, he would have been sucking up soup at the Salvation Army.”28 Rather than taking pride in Monroe’s achievement as a famed Indigenous artist, Miles considers it pure luck. The collective response to Monroe’s return represents the difficulty of homecoming and echoes the colonial notion that the Indigenous identity is inferior and therefore subjugation is necessary. Monroe’s return disrupts such colonial imposition that he chooses not to stay in either

Truth or Bright Water but to occupy an abandoned church in between Truth and Bright Water, enacting resistance to national borders. As the church was built at the turn of the century, the church has been owned and sold by various sects such as the Methodists, the Baptists, and the

First Assembly of God. Because the location of the church is in neither Truth nor Bright Water, it cannot be reached by the ineffective bridge. As a result, the last congregation, Sacred Word

Gospel, left the church because the unfinished bridge construction obstructed people’s visits.

Unfortunately, the church is left in poor condition until Monroe purchases it. As the church used to be “a mission to the Indians,”29 Monroe transforms it and begins paint the walls of the church until they blend with the prairie and the sky. Monroe understands that to demolish the building is to remove part of the history of Truth and Bright Water but to keep the building and make it blend in with the surroundings is to “symbolically reverse the exploitative violence of

Euramerican frontier advancement,”30 as Matthew Cella observes the creative approach Monroe demonstrates in re-writing the history. Similarly, by occupying the in-between space of

28 King, 27.

29 King, 1.

30 Matthew J.C. Cella, “The Mythology of the Buffalo Commons in Proulx’s ‘The Old Ace in the Hole’ and King’s Truth & Bright Water,” Western American Literature 41, no. 4 (Winter 2007), 435.

116 ambiguity, Monroe indeed celebrates survivance including possibilities, life and diversity embedded in the space that Monroe says, “Before we’re done [with the project], the buffalo will return”31 and it would be “just like the old days.” 32 Monroe’s reasserting presence on the land and reclaiming the existence of Natives in history demonstrate his alternative homing-in. His transforming the abandoned area into an Indigenous-centered space decolonizes the church and the border, rejects victimization, and tells his alternative stories of survivance.

Monroe’s multiple restoration projects demonstrate his intention to decolonize the trope of Manifest Destiny by controlling his narrative with creativity. His previous job restoring nineteen century paintings in museums has led to what he is really good at: restoring the

Nineteenth- century landscapes with an unusual experience. Monroe was asked to restore a painting but no matter what he did, “the image began to bleed through.”33 Monroe took a closer look and was astounded to find that what was underneath was a village: “There was an Indian village on the lake, slowly coming up through the layers of paint.”34 This unusual experience may seem absurd, but the appearing Indian village in the painting reverses the trope of the

Vanishing Indian and noble savage in the nineteenth-century American painting. For example,

King points out in “The End of the Trails” that paintings about Native people by painters such as

George Catlin, Charles Bird King and Paul Kane in the nineteenth century become stereotypes—

“the bloodthirsty savage, the noble savage, and the dying savage.”35 Furthermore, the British-

31 King, Truth & Bright Water, 134.

32 King, 135.

33 King, 130.

34 King, 130.

35 Thomas King, The Inconvenient Indian: A Curious Account of Native People in North America (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 2012), 34.

117

American painter Thomas Cole created the sublime beauty of the American landscape in works such as Falls of the Kaaterskill (1826) and Distant View of Niagara Falls (1830) in which he often included tiny figures of Native people to demonstrate the decrease of American wilderness and vanishing Indians. The contrast of civilization and untamed wilderness is represented in The

Oxbow (1833) which depicts the Connecticut River Valley after a thunderstorm with a contrast of the bright valley on the right and the dark woods on the left. Cole used a pastoral setting and idealized nature of serenity and peace to reflect God’s almighty power. His works indicate three themes significant to the nineteenth-century America: discovery, exploration and settlement, which echo the doctrine of Manifest Destiny: the right, validated by Divine providence, to expand the United States to the Pacific and uphold settler entitlement to the land. John Gast’s famous painting American Progress (1872) serves as an allegory for Manifest Destiny and depicts the American westward expansion. Columbia, the central female figure associated with

America, is put in the center of the painting with her face facing forward to the west. On the right side, there are trains, ships, electricity poles, and wagons as well as two white men farming on the land and a group of men traveling westward. Contrary to the bright hues and representation of civilization on the right, the opposite side is dark with bison running and several half naked

Natives riding horses to the west while three of them turning their heads backward staring at the angel. The compositions and colors used in The Oxbow and American Progress create a similar narrative that civilization brings light to the untamed and dark barbarism. What lies beneath the serene landscape was massacre, removal and death. The bleeding images and the missing Indians in the painting that Monroe tries to restore indeed tell the tragic consequences that Natives have experienced. Monroe’s specialty in restoring the nineteenth-century painting is not a

118 coincidence; his creativity indeed echoes one of Smith’s Indigenous projects in which she pinpoints the significance of imagination for Indigenous culture.

The project of creating is not just about the artistic endeavours of individuals, but about the spirit of creating that Indigenous communities have exercised over thousands of years. Imagination enables people to rise above their own circumstances, to dream new visions and to hold on to hold ones. It fosters inventions and discoveries, facilitates simple improvements to people’s lives and uplifts our spirits.36

Monroe’s creative plan to “save the world”37 by “[painting] the village and the Indians back into the painting”38 shows the refusal to be victims. He cannot change the history, but he can reveal what has been erased and neglected one painting at a time with the narratives of survival by prioritizing and recognizing Native presence.

Echoing the Native American Graves Protection and Repatriation Act (NAGPRA),

Monroe’s returning skulls to nature not only decolonizes the ethnological collecting in history but also suggests a process of healing. Truth & Bright Water begins with Tecumseh and Lum witnessing a mysterious woman who carries a suitcase full of human skulls and throws it to the river. Both teenagers are so eager to find out the woman’s identity and the mystery of the skulls.

As the story progresses, Tecumseh accidentally finds out that Monroe is the mysterious woman they saw by the river because of the wig and other human skulls Monroe carefully stashes away in moving boxes. To satisfy Tecumseh’s curiosity, Monroe explains that he was saddened to see that the children skeletons were kept away in drawers for years and that he had to rescue them.

Children… I found them in drawers and boxes and stuck away on dusty shelves… Indian children… Anthropologists and archaeologists dig the kids up, clean them off, and stick them in drawers. Every ten years or so, some bright graduate student opens the drawers, takes a look, writes a paper, and shuts the drawer… So I rescued them… But I’d find

36 Smith, Decolonizing Methodologies, 159.

37 King, Truth & Bright Water, 131.

38 King, 133.

119

them no matter where they had been hidden away. Sometimes those idiots had even forgotten where they had put them… This is the center of the universe. Where else would I bring them? Where else would they want to be?39 Monroe resents the lack of respect and mistreatment of the Native remains by museums and his returning skeletons to Truth and Bright Water corresponds to the establishment of Native

American Graves Protection and Repatriation Act in 1990 in the United States, and Heritage

Conservation Act in 1994 in Canada. Scott Manning Stevens, when discussing the influence of museums on Indigenous communities, argues that Native materials and artifacts were collected for scientific investigation in late nineteenth century. With the rise of archaeology and anthropology in the early twentieth century, scholars and collectors promoted the incorporation of the Native bodily remains into museums, institutions and universities. As a result, more and more skeletal remains were dug out and carted away indefinitely for various research purposes to such a degree that Steven calls it “a new species of grave robbing.”40 Such robbing caused alienation of Native materials and a sense of belonging in Indigenous communities. With the demand to redress the problematic policies of acquisition and retention of Native skeletons in institutions, Congress passed the Native American Graves Protection and Repatriation Act, known by its acronym, NAGPRA, that allows tribes to recover religious and cultural items held in federally funded institutions and protests the right of tribes to preserve all human remains excavated on tribal land.41 As a result of the process, Native tribes expose the narrative of

39 King, 250-251.

40 Scott Manning Stevens, “Collectors and Museums: From Cabinets of Curiosities to Indigenous Cultural Center,” in The Oxford Handbook of American Indian History, ed. Frederick E. Hoxie (New York: Oxford University Press, 2016), 484.

41 See Stephen L. Pevar, “Civil Rights of Indians,” The Right of Indians and Tribes (New York: Oxford University Press, 2012).

120 cultural preservation in museums and institutions and reclaims their ownership of land, culture, and objects. Eric Hemenway, an Anishinaabe tribal repatriation specialist, shares his experiences working with Native communities and museums on the return of ancestors and considers the process a form of healing for both Native communities and museums. “The healing that occurs within tribes when remains and items are returned is a wonderful feeling,”42 and “the museum and tribal staff know they have done something fundamentally, morally and spiritually right, together.”43 Therefore, Monroe’s secretly collecting Native remains and returning them to nature in Truth & Bright Water not only suggests a symbolic home-returning but also provides a process of healing. Furthermore, the act of returning echoes the “holistic approach” 44 of Smith’s decolonizing project that seeks emotional, spiritual and physical healing for both the individual and the collective. Similar to his intention to unveil the Native presence in historic paintings and to create a narrative of survival, Monroe criticizes the wrongful museum policies by repatriating the bodily remains. As the skeletons symbolize a painful past in Native history, so the return of the bones indeed connects memories, places and experiences, and transforms the heartbreaking past into an act of survival and healing.

The significance of Monroe’s unusual restoration projects is both personal and communal because it embeds collective Native history within personal story and reveals a storied life of

Native history. Explaining the evidence of Indian Removal in Truth & Bright Water in “Happy

Trails to You,” Robin Ridington uses “history as story and story as history” to suggest the

42 Eric Hemenway, “Finding Our Way Home,” in Accomplishing NAGPRA: Perspectives on the Intent, Impact, and Future of the Native American Graves Protection Act, ed. Sangita Chari and Jaime M. N. Lavallee (Corvallis: Oregon State University Press, 2013), 94.

43 Hemenway, 94-95.

44 Smith, Decolonizing Methodologies, 155.

121 interwoven relationship of history and story in the novel.45 Similar to Ridington’s argument,

Monroe’s return to Truth and Bright Water and restoration projects indeed indicate decolonizes the narrative of vanishing Indians from the nineteenth century and reinforces the importance of home-returning of various forms such as artifacts, materials, and skeletons. The return and restoration not only offers a healing process but also promotes an Indigenous-centered narrative and, as Smith claims in her decolonizing projects, “set[s] a new vision.”46 Moreover, the power of healing helps Indigenous communities to envision a future with Native presence: “The power of indigenous peoples to change their own lives and set new directions, despite their impoverished and oppressed conditions, speaks to the politics of survivance.”47 Indeed, Monroe and his projects create an Indigenous narrative of survivance, resisting the colonial assumptions and surviving the colonial imposition. Truth & Bright Water closes with Monroe giving

Tecumseh a piano and telling him “as long as you know where middle C is, you can play anything.”48 Monroe may be teaching Tecumseh the basics of playing piano at this moment. To read along the line of Monroe’s uncommon experiences and projects, the middle C he refers to is an Indigenous centered knowledge and practice, and a celebration of connectedness for

Indigenous communities. Monroe proves that those who return home are not failures as hinted in the colonial discourse, and his curious projects concur with Smith’s decolonizing methodologies.

The returning of Monroe to Truth and Bright Water and his restoration projects provide the

45 Robin Ridington, “Happy Trails to You: Contexted Discourse and Indian Removal in Thomas King’s Truth & Bright Water,” Canadian Literature 167 (Winter 2000), 89.

46 Smith, Decolonizing Methodologies, 153.

47 Smith, 153.

48 King, Truth & Bright Water, 263.

122 community with healing and transformation after historical trauma, and his decolonizing strategies are meant for the community to remember the past and envision a future of survivance.

Centering Atayal Culture in The Hometown of Lapaw

The Atayal culture’s sense of belonging is paramount in Rimuy’s reportage of tribal history and Atayal tradition in her writing such as “The Sound of a Flute in the Mountains” and

“泰雅真女人” [Kneri Tayal Balay]. Rimuy’s The Hometown of Lapaw, the first fiction written by a female Atayal, delineates the reclamation history of Atayal people in a rural village in southern Taiwan during the 1960s as a context for Bawnay’s family story, and demonstrates the strong connection to the Atayal language and culture that provides a sense of belonging for

Bawnay’s family. The family has always lived in Skaru Village, a mountainous village in

Hsinchu County and home to the Atayal people. However, the gradual decreasing of tribal land forces Bawnay to leave for San-ming Village in Kaohsiung County for better and more abundant natural resources. As a result, the family spends more than a decade in San-ming Village which

Bawnay considers a second home. The family becomes an integral part of the multitribal community, including two major Indigenous tribes, Bunun and Tsou in that area. Eventually,

Bawnay and his wife Amui decide to return to Skaru Village, grow some lapaw and enjoy the familiar view of the mountains. The journey of Bawnay’s family symbolizes the significance of gamil, returning to the root, in Atayal culture. Honoring the Atayal culture is prominent in The

Hometown of Lapaw and Bawnay’s family strives to achieve the highest compliment, tayal balay, the real Atayal.49 Rimuy uses Bawnay’s family story to demonstrate the core value of the

49 Tayal balay is loosely translated as a real Atayal. The term is the highest honor an Atayal can receive in his or her life. The person has to look up to the Atayal culture and tradition, practice the core value of Atayal and be recognized and respected by his community so as to be tayal balay.

123

Atayal gaga, the Atayal moral code,50 with the inclusion of the Atayal language, detailed portrayal of materials, careful description of responsibilities associated with each gender. The sense of belonging in Rimuy’s The Hometown of Lapaw is more than a physical place the family resides; it is the Atayal tradition that unites the family and connects it to the tribal history and community.

The concept of the Atayal gaga is crucial in understanding The Hometown of Lapaw because it involves Atayal lifeways, ancestral lessons, and rituals. As the Atayal gaga is regarded as the guideline of being tayal balay, one would be punished, and bad omens would befall on the individual or the family if he or she violates gaga. Actually, the Atayal gaga is so intricate because of its multifaceted practices in different Atayal communities, including the rules for hunting, marriage, and travel, to name a few. Therefore, scholars from various backgrounds such as anthropology, ethnography, and archeology have been eager to interpret it from their own perspectives. In his field note, “泰雅族的靈魂觀—惡靈的處咒或善靈的懲罰” [The

Spiritualism of the Atayal: A Curse of an Evil Spirit or a Punishment from a Spirit], Guo-chao

Huang investigates cases about the violation of gaga and the reactions from the community. He observes that gaga is omnipresent in the Atayal culture:

Gaga 才是泰雅族人生活及遵從的主體，一切的行為道德一切的行為道德、社會秩序及價值觀，皆仰賴於泰雅族人對 gaga 的遵守和執行 […] 泰雅族重視的不是靈界生活，而是生前必須遵守祖先的 gaga，認真狩獵、工作等。51

50 Gaga means the core value and moral lessons of the Atayal culture. It governs the daily activities and sacred ceremonies. As the Atayal gaga is regarded as the guideline of being tayal balay, when one violates gaga, punishment such as bad omens will befall on the individual or the family if no one makes amend.

51 Guo-chao Huang 黃國超, “Tai ya zu de ling hun guan—e ling de chu zhou huo shan ling de cheng fa” 泰雅族的靈魂觀—惡靈的處咒或善靈的懲罰 [The Spiritualism of the Atayal: A Curse of an Evil Spirit or a Punishment from a Spirit], Shan hai wen hua Shuang yue kan 山海文化雙月刊 21, 22 (March 1991), 190. My translation.

124

[Gaga represents the Atayal ways of life and the Atayal subject. The Atayal people have to comply with and practice gaga in every behavior, moral code, social order and value… Instead of the spiritual world, the Atayal people focus on obeying gaga, including hunting and working diligently.]

Indeed, the Atayal gaga is considered holistic because it encompasses every aspect of life and regulates people’s thoughts and behavior. For example, gaga regulates gender roles and responsibilities so that a male and a female would not overstep a boundary and respect each other. According to gaga, an Atayal male is determined, diligent, knowledgeable in hunting, fishing, and building houses. An Atayal female, on the other hand, is attentive and adaptive, and responsible for weaving and homemaking. The concept of the Atayal gaga is evident in

Bawnay’s family story because the family members are constantly reminded to keep to the

Atayal culture, and gaga as the Atayal-centered narrative indeed creates a sense of belonging and honors the Atayal culture and identity.

Bawnay’s resettlement from Skaru Village to San-ming Village reflects the Atayal history of migration and indicates the importance of gaga as a form of balance and authority to regulate relationship with nature and within a community. Bawnay and his father Lesa have been well-respected hunters in Skaru Village; however, the federal Forestry Bureau gradually takes control over the hunting area in the mountains and deprives tribal hunters of natural resources:

北台灣的發展非常迅速，所謂「文明」的腳步很快地就踩進了部落的周邊。最重要的改變還是在於過去祖先傳統的 quunam（獵場）幾乎都被劃為國有的林班地，不准族人進入採集、狩獵。狩獵的場域越來越小，墾植的土地也受到限制。52 [Northern Taiwan has developed rapidly, and the so-called civilization has intruded the tribal land. The most noticeable change is that the traditional quunam (hunting area) of ancestors is taken away by the Bureau, forbidding tribal people to gather food and hunt, resulting in smaller hunting ground and limited land cultivation.]

52 Rimuy, The Hometown of Lapaw, 53. My translation.

125

Frustrated by the changing environment in Skaru Village, Bawnay become intrigued by the idea of moving to San-ming Village in Southern Taiwan because he is told that the land is abundant with natural resources:

那裡的土地肥沃，山上的野獸多的獵不完，早上隨便在路旁放個陷阱，下午就可以扛一頭山豬回家。[…] “balay~~, msyam balay rhyan spasa” 真~~的，那裡的土地很肥沃 “isu ga,sis u ‘bli sa zik miquwy qu puqing ngahi lru,krahu qu ngahi lga,llequn nya nana qu gamil miqui,iyat su lxun kmihuy nap ayah” 你丫，只要在芒草下面埋下番薯苗，等長出蕃薯的時候，巨大的番薯會自動把芒草的根給抬起來，根本就不必你動手去挖。53 [The land is so fertile, and there are so many animals more than you can hunt. If you toss a trap by the road in the morning, you will bring home a wild boar in the afternoon… “Reeeeeealy, the soil is so fertile. All you have to do is to plant sweet potato seedlings underneath silvergrass. When sweet potatoes are ripe, the huge spuds will remove the root of silvergrass. You don’t have to dig them out yourself.]

Besides Bawnay’s family, there are other Atayal families moving southward to San-ming Village from several Atayal communities in the mountainous areas in Northern Taiwan with a shared goal—to live and hunt freely like their ancestors used to “彷彿使他的生命能夠連結與更貼近

祖先的足跡” 54 [as if his life could reconnect and be close to the ancestors’ footsteps]. The resettlement of Bawnay’s family in The Hometown of Lapaw reflects the Atayal history of immigration. Atayal communities are located in mountainous areas in Northern and Central

Taiwan, and they have strived to maintain the balance with the surroundings—“人類與大自然和

平共處的 gaga” 55 [gaga of coexistence of humans and nature]. When the population density is too high to impact farming and hunting activities, some families will relocate in another area

53 Rimuy, 52. My translation. The sentences in quotation marks are the pronunciation of Atayal language. Rimuy often uses Atayal language in dialogues and translates it in Taiwanese Mandarin immediately follows the previous sentence.

54 Rimuy, 168. My translation.

55 Rimuy, 82. My translation.

126 together to avoid disturbing balance and violating gaga. When these families settle in an area and form a community, gaga helps to unite the community and set up rules for relocation. For example, when a piece of land is chosen to build a house or plant crops, an Atayal male would set up marks with rocks and tree leaves to indicate his “先佔權” 56 [the right to reserve] without verbal or written agreements. Therefore, when one finds a piece of land he likes, he will observe carefully if there are marks of reservation because occupying reserved land is considered a serious violation of gaga. In The Hometown of Lapaw, an acquaintance named Utaw gives

Bawnay a piece of land close to a steep slope near San-ming Village as promised, but he did not tell Bawnay that the land belongs to two “平地人” 57 [land people]. Utaw claims that he is innocent because he did not see any marks indicating the land reservation. Even though Bawnay is angry at Utaw’s dishonesty, he still returns the land to the land people because he is afraid to violate the right to reserve, thus breaking gaga. Bawnay thinks to himself, “怎麼自己變成侵佔

人家土地的人了呢？侵占別人擁有的土地在泰雅族社會裡可是非常嚴重的事情” 58 [How come I turn into a person who occupies another’s reserved land? Occupying another’s reserved

56 Huang, “The Spiritualism of the Atayal,” 182. My translation.

57 Rimuy, The Hometown of Lapaw, 134. My translation. Rimuy uses the term, land people, to contrast the mountain people, the derogatory term for Taiwanese Indigenous peoples because Indigenous tribes are mostly located in the mountainous area. Therefore, the land people Bawnay encounters are non-Indigenous people, and they can be Hakka, Mainlanders, or Taiwanese. Rimuy does not specify but uses a general term here. The Hakka people refer to whose ancestors came from Hakka language speaking provinces in China in the sixteenth century in the Qing Dynasty. Mainlanders, most of whom soldiers, refer to those who came to Taiwan with the retreat of Kuomingtang between 1945 and 1950, and Taiwanese Mandarin is the primary language used among the group. Taiwanese population in the context are those who are born into Taiwanese families and speak Taiwanese.

58 Rimuy, 135. My translation.

127 land is consequential in the Atayal society]. The fear of breaking gaga connotes the worry of disturbing his relationship within the community. The fact that Bawnay returns the land to the land people suggests his determination to uphold the Atayal value. The Atayal gaga in the context is embedded with a form of authority that determines the ownership of land and regulates the people’s behavior.

Bawnay’s friendship with the Bunun people in San-ming Village is noteworthy because it dismantles the unstated historical conflicts between the Atayal and Bunun with an Indigenous alliance and reinforcement of the moral lesson of gaga by being benevolent and cooperative.

San-ming Village is comprised of three Indigenous tribes, Bunun, Tsou, and Paiwan, who have shared the Central Mountain Range, the principle mountain range on Taiwan, as their home,59 and the Bunun people are the major population and the Bunun culture the most influential. The

Bunun people are hospitable and like to live close to their families and extended families.

Therefore, when Bawnay’s family arrives at San-ming Village, they are welcome by the community and treated as an extended family:

堡耐住下來之後，每天跟大家一起上山工作…布農族跟泰雅族一樣，一、也會在做山、農忙的時候用換工的方式互相幫忙…他們這樣到各處工作，結識了許多布農族的。 60

59 The Central Mountain Range runs from the north to the south Taiwan and is comprised of several mountains sacred to Indigenous people. For example, Da-wu Mountain, also known as Kavulungan in Paiwan language, is the sacred mountain for both Paiwan and Rukai. Jade Mountain, the highest mountain in Taiwan, is called Tongku-Saveq in Bunun, Patungkuonʉ in Tsou, and kadjumuan in Paiwan. Therefore, intertribal relationship is formed and similar rituals are practiced on the basis of the shared location.

60 Rimuy, The Hometown of Lapaw, 124-125. My translation. Work exchange or sbayux in Atayal, is a form of agricultural practice that people in the same community have to follow. During the planting and harvest seasons when a household cannot manage the heavy working load, the family will ask for help from other families in the same community. The family will have to return the favor to the other families when needed. Sbayux is a form of gaga because it regulates the amount of favor quested and repaid.

128

[After Bawnay settles down (in San-ming Village), he goes up to the mountain to work with others. The Bunun and the Atayal are alike because they help each and exchange work during the harvest. [Bawnay and his son] work everywhere and make friends with several Bunun people.]

Bawnay’s friendship with the Bunun people is strengthened with his diligence and modesty, and he earns respect with his extraordinary hunting skills. The friendship between the Atayal and

Bunun is unusual because the historical conflicts have impacted the intertribal relationship negatively. During the Japanese Occupation period (1895-1945), the Japanese government changed the Indigenous traditional lifestyle drastically such as forbidding hunting and religious practices. The Five Years Plan of Civilizing Savages (1910-1915), a dominant approach designed to civilize Indigenous tribes, was to control the natural resources, to deconstruct the tribal cultures, and to civilize with interracial marriages.61 Furthermore, the method of “以夷制

夷” 62 [using a savage to subdue the others] caused the distrust among tribes. The Japanese government recruited Indigenous people to negotiate and coerce Indigenous communities into submission as well as ignited hatred and incited warfare among Indigenous tribes in order to pillage land and natural resources and dominant the tribes. Because the Atayal tribe had resisted the Japanese dominance fiercely, the Japanese soldiers along with Bunun warriors, who were

61 The Five Years Plan of Civilizing Savages (五年里蕃計畫) is my translation because there is no official translation of the term. See also Pasuya Poiconx 巴蘇亞•博伊哲努 (浦忠成), “Ri zhi shi dai dui yuan zhu min zu de juao hua” 日治時代對原住民族的教化 [Civilizing Indigenous Tribes during the Japanese Occupation], Tai wan yuan zhu min zu wen xue shi gan xia 台灣原住民族文學史綱(下) [The History of Taiwan Indigenous People (II)] (Taipei: Lern Publisher, 2009): 587-594. My translation.

62 My translation. The approach of using one tribe to subdue others had been used in different colonial periods besides the Japanese government, such as the Dutch Republic (1624- 1662), the Spanish Empire (1626-1642), the Zheng dynasty (1661-1683), and the Qing dynasty (1683-1895).

129 famous for being skillful in warfare, defeated the Atayal tribe and relocated Atayal communities to different areas. According to a Bunun folk story that the Bunun tribe used to befriend with the

Atayal; however, the relationship discontinued without a clear explanation or record before the arrival of colonialism. The Japanese government aggravated the already fall-out relationship between the two tribes and forced them to be enemies,63 resulting in both tribes’ avoidance of connection since then. In The Hometown of Lapaw, Rimuy downplays the devastating history and transforms the conflict into cordial friendship between the Atayal and Bunun. Rimuy describes the hospitality of the Bunun people that they welcome the Atayal newcomers into their families and help them to adjust to the new environment. “這批南下的泰雅族人到後來有的找

到新墾地，有的是布農族教友送土地” 64 [Some of the Atayal people of southward migration

[to San-ming Village] found pieces of land by themselves and some received land given by

Bunun friends].When each Atayal family owns a piece of land, they move out of the Bunun family to be independent while maintaining close connection to the Bunun host. Bawnay, for example, helps to remodel the kitchen and bathroom and build two extra rooms for his Bunun host to show his gratitude. Bawnay earns respect with his compassion, loyalty, and cooperation which are considered “yasa gaga ita Tayal hya 這就是我們泰雅族的道理” 65 [the rules of being an Atayal]. The genuine friendship between the Atayal and Bunun defies the destructive colonial

63 Most historical materials document the conflicts between the Japanese authority and various Indigenous tribes. Intertribal warfare during the period of the Five Years Plan were only mentioned briefly without detailed information.

64 Rimuy, The Hometown of Lapaw, 123. My translation.

65 Rimuy, 189. My translation.

130 influence with an Indigenous alliance, echoing the concept of survivance that counters the colonial discourse of tragedy and victimry with a sense of active presence in stories.

The Atayal gaga governs people’s behavior and functions as a guideline for gender responsibilities; Amuy, Bawnay’s wife, abiding by the Atayal gaga, complements Bawnay’s masculinity as a hunter with her attentiveness and adaptability as a keeper of a household. In this patriarchal society, the Atayal males are expected to hunt and make houses while the females grow crops and make homes. The Hometown of Lapaw begins with a short description of gender responsibilities:

部落的男人清晨上山都會先繞進樹林裝設獸夾、捕鳥器之類的小陷阱，以便在下午回家的時候，順便把獵物帶回家當晚餐的配菜。獸夾是他和阿慕依清晨上山時，順道放置的。阿慕依工作到下午三點左右，就會先下山。她不是背了一整背簍的地瓜、芋頭，就是在半路順便繞進樹林，砍取生火用的柴薪。[…] 阿慕依下午先離開農地回到家，是要打理家務、餵食牲畜、澆菜、準備晚餐……總是在忙碌。[…] 堡耐家族是傳統泰雅族男人的典型，他們認真工作、勤勞實在，常滿的倉儲說明他們的勤勞與富足。在山上衡量一個人是不是富有，不是看他有多少錢財，而是看他的穀倉有幾座，倉裡是否儲滿收穫物。66 [Before entering the mountains (to the hunting area), the tribal (Atayal) males would set up snares and cages very early in the morning so that they can bring the prey home in the afternoon for additional dishes. Bawnay and his wife Amuy place the traps at dawn, and Amuy would work until three o’clock in the afternoon and then returns home. She will bring home a basket load of yams and taros or firewood. [...] Amuy leaves the farm and returns home to do the house chores such as feeding animals, watering vegetables, preparing dinner… She is always busy.67[…] Bawnay’s family is the exemplar of traditional Atayal males who are diligent and practical, and their almost-always-filled storage barns explain it all. The amount of money one has does not determine if the person is rich not; rather, his wealth depends on the numbers of storage barns he has and if the barns are filled with harvest.]

Bawnay’s storage barns are filled with different crops such as rice, millet, taro, and peanuts. In addition, there is a row of storage jars with pickled radish, dried cabbage and millet wine. This

66 Rimuy, 29. My translation.

67 Rimuy, 26. My translation.

131 depiction explains the division of labor associated with genders in the Atayal culture: men are responsible for the cultivation of land, building the homestead, and hunting, and women are associated with growing and gathering plants, and food preparation. Furthermore, such division of labor indicates the relation between gender and space, in that men’s activities take place outdoors and female activities are of domesticity. Therefore, Bawnay constantly shows his bravery in hunting, for “冷靜和膽試卻是讓人不能輕忽” 68 [his calmness and courage are extraordinary]. He demonstrates perseverance in bettering living conditions for his family in that he not only builds houses but also cultivates the land into fertile soil. Amuy, on the other hand, shows dedication to her family, and “因為他能幹又聰明的特質，沒多久就成為家中婦女的主

導人物。不管事菜園的栽種，縫紉的女紅，廚房的烹煮手藝，都令附近的婦女佩服不

已”69 [because of her conscientiousness and intelligence, she becomes a role model in planting crops, weaving, and cooking that every housewife (in San-ming Village) seeks advice from].

Both Bawnay and Amuy abide by the gender responsibilities regulated by the Atayal gaga, whether they are in Skaru Village or San-ming Village. The masculinity of the Atayal males and femininity of females create a sense of balance, and the complement of both genders reinforces the morale of the Atayal gaga.

Similar to the Atayal gaga as guidance for every aspect of life, the traditional Atayal food, especially cured meat, preserves not just food suitable for the Atayal lifestyle but also an important part of the Atayal culture and thereby creates a sense of belonging. The detailed

68 Rimuy., 168. My translation.

69 Rimuy, 130. My translation.

132 description of food preparation is prominent in The Hometown of Lapaw in which Rimuy utilizes

Amuy to demonstrate the cultural significance of cimmyan, the unique Atayal dish:

「cimmyan」（醃肉）在泰雅族人的生活中，扮演著其重要的角色，舉凡重要聚會、提親嫁娶、親友旺來，一定會準備「cimmyan」分享大家。醃肉是把新鮮的瘦肉，或是新鮮的溪魚，洗淨瀝乾用鹽和著冷飯攪拌之後，封存於瓦罐中，鮮肉和米飯、食鹽經過醃漬發酵，就會發出特別的醃肉香，泰雅族人特別喜歡這樣的味道。鹽醃的肉類可以保存比較長久的時間，醃肉技術好的人，所醃的肉甚至可以保存一整年。醃肉是泰雅族人為一應沒有保存設備的生活環境而發展出來的保存食物的方式。阿慕依的醃肉技術，在部落的女人裡面可以說是數一數二的好，大家都知道他醃出來的山肉不但香甜，也可以保存一整年不壞。當然，那必須是在製作過程中每個細節都要非常小心、仔細，製作出來的醃肉才會這麼美味。70 [Cimmyan (cured meat) plays a crucial part in the Atayal people’s life. The dish is always prepared for important gatherings, weddings, and family reunions. Wash and dry fresh lean meat or fish, mix it with salt and rice, and seal it in an earthen jar. Marinated with rice and salt, the meat will produce a special smell which the Atayal people like the most. The cured meat can be preserved for a long time; if done properly by a skillful cook, it is good for a year. Curing is a technique the Atayal people develop to preserve food without equipment. Amuy’s curing skill is one of the best among all the tribal females. Everyone knows that her cured meat is the most flavorful and is able to last a whole year long. Of course, that’s because it requires meticulous steps and extra care to make such a delicious dish.]

To make cimmyan takes a hunter’s endeavor in catching animals, a wife’s excellent skill at curing, and an amount of time for the ingredients to work. In other words, the delectable cimmyan represents the accumulation of collaborative effort and time. Reading the process of cimmyan from an ethnographic perspective, Tsui Yang explains the cultural value of cimmyan.

“醃漬食物所含攝的時間性，表徵著這個族群飲食文化的簡樸特性[…] 衍繹成文化氣味的

厚度” 71 [The pickled food and the time needed to make the dish symbolize the unpretentious

70 Rimuy, 45. My translation.

71 Tsui Yang 楊翠, Shao shu shuo hua: tai wan yuan zhu min nu xing wen xue de duo Zhong shi yu shang 少數說話：台灣原住民女性文學的多重視域（上）[Minority Speaking: Taiwanese Indigenous Female Writers’ Perspectives I] (Taipei: Tipi Publisher, 2018), 297.

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Atayal culture… and construct the depth of the culture and flavor]. In other words, cimmyan represents the Atayal culture and collective memory and creates a sense of belonging. The cultural significance of cimmyan, according to Yang, “召喚離鄉者的原鄉情感與記憶” 72 [calls for nostalgia and the memories of those who are away from home]. In The Hometown of Lapaw,

Bawnay visits his good friend Watan in a hospital who suffers from tuberculosis, and Bawnay brings cimmyan para, cured muntjacs,73 to cheer Watan up. When Watan’s wife opens the jar,

“醃肉特有的香味頓時充滿了小小的病房” 74 [the distinctive smell of cimmyan para fills the tiny hospital room immediately], and Watan exclaims, “a!talagay kins’nun cimmyan para qani wah 啊！山羌醃肉的滋味多麼令人懷念啊!” 75 [Oh! How I miss the taste of cimmyan para!]

Watan savors the dish and reminisces about the good old days when he was in the tribe. The cured meat improves Watan’s appetite, brings the flavor of the Atayal tribe and creates a sense of belonging away from home. Rimuy’s detailed portrayal of cimmyan, though mundane, demonstrates the unique Atayal food culture that it is the catalyst for the remembrance of the

Atayal tradition and the embodiment of the Atayal culture.

Centering the Atayal gaga and maintaining the Atayal lifestyle are the key to the sense of belonging and the Atayal identity in The Hometown of Lapaw. Bawnay’s family persist in practicing the Atayal traditions and following the Atayal gaga to regulate their everyday behavior so as to achieve the highest compliment—tayal baley, the real Atayal. The Atayal gaga

72 Yang, 297. My translation.

73 Muntjacs, also known as barking deer, are small deer inhabiting in Southeastern Asia. The muntjac mentioned here are called Formosan muntjac which are native in Taiwan.

74 Rimuy, The Hometown of Lapaw, 49. My translation.

75 Rimuy, 49. My translation.

134 creates a sense of belonging. In the end of The Hometown of Lapaw, Bawnay and Amuy return to Skaru Village to enjoy the retired life:

初春的微風吹過林梢，傳來一陣陣悅耳的竹葉之歌，十數年離鄉背井重歸故里，人事變遷恍如隔世。不變的是親友圍繞談笑的溫馨，不變的是屋前這棵山櫻花樹，總在春天熱烈地開了整樹緋紅山櫻花。堡耐望著屋前的山櫻花樹，心中充滿了對生命的感恩。76 [The gentle wind breezes through the trees and creates the song of bamboo leaves. Everything changes during all those years being away from home as if it were another lifetime. What remains the same is the warmth from family and friends; what remains the same is the lapaw in front of the house that always welcomes spring with red cherry blossoms. Bawnay stares at the lapaw, feeling grateful for life.]

Bawnay’s homecoming to Skaru Village suggests the return to the root, gamil in Atayal language; moreover, it also symbolizes the circular journey of life. Rather than the hardship in the historical context of the Atayal migration to San-ming Village and conflicts with the Bunun people, Rimuy emphasizes the Atayal-centered narrative and creates a sense of survivance in The

Hometown of Lapaw Baynay’s family is the embodiment of the Atayal memories and presence.

Conclusion

The juxtaposition of King’s Truth & Bright Water and Rimuy’s The Hometown of Lapaw demonstrates shared concern for a sense of belonging in the Indigenous-centered narrative. The concept of home is more than a physical place; it encompasses the collective history, memories, and most importantly, identity. Bevis argues that leaving home is necessary in the traditional

Western narrative because it implies the need to expand and explore. The Indigenous homecoming, on the other contrary, is “the opposite of competitive individualism.”77 In other words, the home the Indigenous characters return to includes family, community, and history.

76 Rimuy, 249. My translation.

77 Bevis, “Native American Novels: Homing In,” 585.

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Rather than a tribe-specific history and identity, King urges an Indigenous identity that defies the political and geographical boundaries and encourages storytelling of survival, resistance, and creativity in Truth & Bright Water. Monroe’s restoration projects-- painting the church out of the landscape, painting missing Indigenous people back to the nineteenth century paintings, and returning stolen Native skulls to the land—echo Smith’s decolonizing methodologies and provide a sense of healing for Native people who have traumatized by and internalized the colonial discourse. Rimuy, on the other hand, highlights the Atayal identity in The Hometown of

Lapaw. As an Atayal writer, Rimuy feels obliged to tell stories of her ancestors, elders, and community as she witnesses the loss of culture due to relocation and intermarriages. Therefore, the Atayal-centered story, including the food culture and the Atayal gaga, becomes pivotal in maintaining the Atayal lifeways and asserting the Atayal identity. The concept of home and a sense of belonging in both texts echo the significance of survivance—reclaiming Indigenous presence identity.

In addition to people’s returning home, the concept of homing-in can be applied to the global repatriation of Indigenous remains and objects because it represents cultural sovereignty and revitalization. The impact of colonialism, and the growth of anthropology and archeology as disciplines, museums, and private collectors, among others, have contributed to the loss of cultural and religious objects, and human remains of Indigenous communities in the name of scientific research or the thought of preservation for disappearing cultures. Indigenous communities questioned the legality of display and collections in museums and institutions, and attempted to repatriate the items due to the encouragement of UNESCO Intergovernmental

Committee for Promoting the Return of Cultural Property to its Countries of Origin or its

Restitution in Case of Illicit Appropriation (ICPRCP) in 1978. Before Congress passed

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NAGPRA in 1990, the Plains Indian Museum Advisory Board developed a Sacred Materials

Policy in 1979 that demanded respectful manners in treating and interpreting items with cultural, traditional, and religious values for Indigenous communities. Passed in 1989, the National

Museum of the American Indian Act passed required the Smithsonian museum to establish an inventory of Indigenous remains and objects that would be returned to federally recognized

Indigenous communities if requested. In addition to NAGPRA of 1990 in the United States and

Heritage Conservation Act of 1994 in Canada, the Australian government has initiated the

Return of Indigenous Cultural Property Program in recent years, and several states have similar legislation such as the Torres Strait Islander Cultural Heritage Act of 2003 and the Aboriginal

Heritage Act of 2006 in Victoria. These similar acts not only recognize the importance of returning ancestral remains, sacred objects, and objects of cultural significance but also seek to formulate a cultural relationship with Indigenous communities. However, the process for

Indigenous communities to successfully repatriate objects is slow and complicated. For example, some objects are unidentifiable, families or communities are not able to provide evidence of cultural affiliation or lienal descendants, or more than one Indigenous community intend to claim the remain or object.78 Moreover, repatriation can be even more complicated when it involves international policies such as the auction of Hopi sacred masks for a half million dollars in Paris in 2015.79 Because the complexity of repatriation “encompasses vastly different issues: religion,

78 See Evan Hawkins, “NAGPRA Case Studies and Controversy,” Buffalo Bill Center of the West, March 1, 2016. https://centerofthewest.org/2016/03/01/nagpra-case-studies- controversy/

79 See “Hope Sacred Masks Auctioned in Paris Despite Protests,” The Guardian, June 11, 2015. https://www.reuters.com/article/us-france-auction-masks/hopi-sacred-masks-auctioned-in- paris-despite-protests-idUSKBN0OR1DG20150611

137 history, law. Human rights, tribal identity, tribal lands, graves/ burial sites, and the dead,”80 writes Hemenway, to acquire the objects and remains is to rebury the dead, and to restore good relationships. The return of ancestors and objects signifies a form of healing for Indigenous communities; furthermore, repatriation creates an opportunity for museums and institutions to show respect to Indigenous communities and to honor Indigenous cultures; that is to say, repatriation is a way of healing and reconciliation.

Because of the lack of repatriation laws in Taiwan, Taiwanese Indigenous communities rely on museum exhibitions and cooperation with institutions to reconnect with the cultural items. Established in 1994, Shung Ye Museum of Formosan Aborigines is the first private museum contributed to the promotion of Taiwanese Indigenous cultures. In 2009, Shung Ye

Museum cooperated with National Museum of Ethnology in Japan to display hundreds of items retrieved during the Japanese Occupation of Taiwan in the special exhibition, “百年來的凝視”

[The Gaze that Lasted a Century]. While it was exciting to witness the display of Indigenous items in Taiwan, it is unknown if the items would be returned to Indigenous communities in the future, and the exact number of items possessed in various institutions in Japan is undetermined.

Chi-hsin Lin, the Deputy Director of National Museum of Prehistory, observed the mixed emotions of Indigenous people because they were both proud to show the world their unique cultural items and sad to be unable to claim the ownership of the items. The Center for

Indigenous Studies in National Taiwan University held a roundtable discussion, “誰的文物？文

物返還要不要？原住民族文物、原民社群與博物館的三方關係” [Whose Cultural Items?

The Need for Repatriation? The Triangle Relationship among Indigenous Cultural Objects,

80 Hemenway, “Finding Our Way Home,” 83.

138

Indigenous Communities, and Museums], sought to unravel the convolution of cultural item ownership in 2016. In addition to the issue of ownership, the roundtable called attention to the urgency of culture revitalization, and explored possible approaches for Indigenous community involvement for future museum exhibitions. A participant shared how she began to revitalize traditional weaving skills and patterns after seeing the museum displays; however, she pointed out that learning the traditional weaving did not translate to acquiring the traditional knowledge and culture because it required time and effort to really bring the culture home.

這表面上看起來是技藝的復甦，但織品的材料是何種植物，可於何時何地採集等等，關係著一套原住民族傳統植物、生態知識，而織品的製作又牽動著一個社會的性別分工、女性知識技藝的家傳，甚至是社會秩序與價值的肯認。物件所附著的不只有技藝、記憶，更可能是一整套知識體系。81 [It looks like the revival of traditional skills, but issues such as what kind of plants to make the fabric and where and when to gather the plants demonstrate the traditional knowledge on botany and ecology. The making of the cloth involves the gendered division of labor, transmitting knowledge within female members, and the recognition of order and value. What is attached to the object is more than the skills and memory; it is an epistemology.]

Therefore, before the establishment of repatriation laws, museums become important sites to apply decolonizing methodology to the display of Indigenous cultural items so as to properly demonstrate Indigenous worldviews and cultures in Taiwan. Moreover, it is crucial for

Indigenous community to be involved in the management and decision of exhibitions so as to strengthen cultural sovereignty.

Trans-Pacific Dialogue of home and belonging exhibited in Truth & Bright Water and

The Hometown of Lapaw pinpoints the significance of homing-in which encompasses the return

81 “Bo wu guan wen wu fan huan qu shi bei hou: wen wu hui jia le wen hua ye huii jia le ma?” 博物館文物返還趨勢背後：文物回家了，文化也回家了嗎?” [Behind the Repatriation: The Return of the Materials, but the Return of Culture?], Mata Taiwan, November 11, 2016. My translation. https://www.matataiwan.com/2016/11/11/indigenous-museum/

139 of characters, objects, and cultures. In both texts, Indigenous identity is strengthened through an

Indigenous-centered narrative that promotes Indigenous presence in history and story. Monroe’s curious restoration project seeks to decolonize history with a sense of humor and creativity, and his return of skulls indicates the significance of repatriation for Indigenous communities.

Rimuy’s The Hometown of Lapaw emphasizes the significance of Atayal gaga in everyday life because it functions as an epistemology for the Atayal people. The distinct cimmyan represents not only the Atayal foodway but also the intricate relationship among ingredients, people, and traditional values. In “Aesthetics of Survivance,” Vizenor writes, “The character of survivance creates a sense of native presence over absence, nihility, and victimry.”82 Both Monroe in Truth

& Bright Water and Bawnay in The Hometown of Lapaw create stories of the continuance of memories and histories, resist colonial imposition, reject historical trauma, and honor Indigenous values and identity.

82 Gerald Vizenor, “Aesthetics of Survivance,” in Survivance: Narratives of Native Presence, ed. Gerald Vizenor (Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 2008), 1.

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Chapter 4

All-my-relations: Human, Nature, and Culture in

Linda Hogan’s People of the Whale and Ahronglong Sakinu’s The Wind Walker

All-my-relations, or Mitakuye Oyasin in the Lakota language, is a familiar saying in

Native American cultures and traditions. It is used in prayers and ceremonies as a recognition of unity, harmony and equality, and it reflects the worldview of interconnectedness among all forms of life: humans, animals, plants, mountains, and rivers. The intricate web of relations is highly valued in Indigenous culture because it recognizes human relationships with non-human kin, and denotes respect, rights, and responsibilities. In his “American Indian Metaphysics,” Vine Deloria

Jr. writes, “The best description of Indian metaphysics was the realization that the world, and all its possible experiences, constituted a social reality, a fabric of life in which everything had the possibility of intimate knowing relationships because, ultimately, everything was related.”1 In other words, one’s identity is shaped by the web of relations he or she is part of, echoing William

Bevis’s claim that “one’s meaningful identity includes society, past, place, and all the natural inhabitants of that place” when he scrutinizes the constructing of Native identity in his “Native

American Novels: Homing In.”2 Chickasaw writer Linda Hogan and Paiwan storyteller

Ahronglong Sakinu utilize whaling and hunting, respectively, to demonstrate the balance and reciprocity significant to identity formation and the idea of all-my-relations in Indigenous cultures. Drawing on People of the Whale and The Wind Walker, I intend to convene the concept

1 Vine Deloria Jr., “American Indian Metaphysics,” Power and Place: Indian Education in America (Golden: Fulcrum Publishing, 2001), 2.

2 William Bevis, “Native American Novels: Homing In,” Recovering the Word: Essays on Native American Literatures, ed. Brian Swan and Arnold Krupat (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1987), 602.

141 of all-my-relations with the two different texts, one fictional and the other memoir, because both authors center on the Indigenous worldview of interconnectedness and interdependence of nature, culture and people in their texts. The juxtaposition of the two texts shows the shared concern of the concept—all-my-relations— significant to Indigenous people. People of the

Whale represents the impact of the broken bond between humans and nature; on the other hand,

The Wind Walker uses the idea of humanized nature to cement the relationship between people and nature. Fiction and memoir, ocean and mountains: Trans-Pacific Dialogue in the two texts reflects the Indigenous philosophy of all-my-relations and demands the respect and responsibility for the interdependence of humans, culture, and nature.

People of the Whale and The Wind Walker, one focusing on the broken bond of relations and the other on strengthening the bond, demonstrate Hogan’s and Sakinu’s concern about the concept of all-my-relations and identity inspired by real life events. Reflecting on the Makah whaling controversy in 1999, Hogan’s People of the Whale addresses the ecological concern and rumination about Native culture in respect to identity, community, and kinship. The novel delineates the close relationship the fictitious A’atsika people have shared with the ocean and sea creatures until the disrespectful whaling takes place when the tribal council leader decides to turn the whaling tradition to covertly profitable activity. Whaling has been an A’atsika tradition; however, with the passing of the last whaler, no one in Dark River knows the proper way of whaling. As a result, the insolent whaling ends in tragedy with the loss of life and disturbed harmony. The tragic whaling in People of the Whale demonstrates Hogan’s serious criticism on the violation of the Native philosophy of all-my-relations: when the bond between nature and humans is broken, one’s connection to the culture is destroyed. Sakinu, on the other hand, depicts his father Gaiyang’s knowledge of the natural surroundings and deference to Paiwan

142 hunting rituals in The Wind Walker. In this memoir, Sakinu writes several stories of hunting trips with Gaiyang who is considered the wind walker, the best Paiwan hunter, in his community.

Gaiyang’s philosophy in hunting demonstrates sustainability, ecological balance, and biodiversity. The hunting trips with Gaiyang in the traditional Paiwan hunting ground have helped Sakinu to reconnect with the Paiwan hunting culture; moreover, the conversation with

Gaiyang makes Sakinu to understand his father’s endeavors to maintain the identity of a Paiwan hunter and a respected relationship with nature. The animals and the natural surroundings are enlivened by Gaiyang’s vivid descriptions as if they have human dispositions that Sakinu is able to relate to. Gaiyang’s hunting knowledge and skills show a true Paiwan hunter who hunts what he needs and shares what he hunts; moreover, he recognizes and respects the interconnectedness between nature and people, and strives to be a proud Paiwan hunter.

The concept of all-my-relations is significant in understanding both People of the Whale and The Wind Walker because it demonstrates the Indigenous philosophy that traditional knowledge is based on the recognition of interactions and responsibilities of humans with all aspects of nature. Bevis observes that the notion of nature is understood differently by

Indigenous and non-Indigenous people. The idea of “humanized nature”3 is foreign to non-

Native readers because in their view nature is oppositional to culture, and it needs to be tamed; however, in the Indigenous worldview, nature is not wild, and it is “part of tribe”4 and part of

Indigenous culture. Humanized nature is an extension of family and community, or a

3 Bevis, 580.

4 Bevis, 602.

143

“continuous community”5 as Thomas King explains; similarly, Louise Erdrich reinforces the interdependent relationship between humans and nature and concludes that “it is the earth with which we form the same dependent relationship, relying completely on its cycles and elements, helpless without its protective embrace.”6 In other words, the idea of humanized nature indicates more than the close relationship humans share with the world, but also suggests an Indigenous worldview of interdependence and responsibility to maintain good relations with all aspects of life. This formulation corresponds to Gregory Cajete’s conception of Native Science, or Native philosophy, in which nature, culture and people are inseparable: Native science “is not based on rational thought alone but incorporates to the fullest degree all aspects of interactions of ‘human in and of nature.’”7 Therefore, the concept of all-my-relations delineates the understanding of and respect for patterns and cycles in the world, and human’s responsibilities for maintaining proper relationships with the natural world. Likewise, Shi-chong Hsieh, an anthropologist specializing in Taiwanese Indigenous activism, calls attention to the comparison between “生態

體系人” [people of the ecosystem] who “ 深刻明暸部落加上山脈水系特地生態體系資源的有

限性” [understand the limitation of tribal land and natural resources in the specific ecosystem], and “生物圈人” [people of biosphere] who exploit and exhaust natural resources in the

5 Thomas King, All My Relations: An Anthology of Contemporary Canadian Native Fiction (Toronto: McClelland& Stewart INC, 1990), xv.

6 Louise Erdrich, “Where I ought to Be: A Writer’s Sense of Place,” The New York Times, July 28, 1985. https://www.nytimes.com/1985/07/28/books/where-i-ought-to-be-a-writer- s-sense-of-place.html 7 Cajete, Gregory, Native Science: Natural Laws of Interdependence (Santa Fe: Clear Light Publishers, 2000), 64.

144 ecosystem.8 Hsieh’s comparison of ecosystem and biosphere demonstrates the reciprocal relationship important in Indigenous traditions. Therefore, the interconnectedness of nature, culture, and people frames the influence of disrespectful whaling and significance of hunting in

Hogan’s and Sakinu’s texts.

Honoring the Treaty: Whaling in People of the Whale

The consistent interest and concern for interconnectedness of all forms of life is crucial in

Linda Hogan’s literary works because she considers the relationship between humans and nature to be a form of treaty “that we held and still hold, treaties with the animals and plant species.”9

In Solar Storms (1994), she fictionalized the James Bay hydroelectric project in Quebec,

Canada, and depicts the disrupted ecological relations after the construction of the dam.

Similarly, Hogan turned her attention to rural Florida where the protagonist is torn between the traditional Taiga world and the dominant white culture by the act of panther hunting in Power

(1998). Her most recent collection of poetry, The Radiant Lives of Animals (2020) draws on

Native stories about animals and spiritual traditions and depicts her relationships with animals.

Hogan points out that the close relationship with animals suggests a form of treaty with other beings that “shaped by mutual respect and knowledge of the complex workings of the world, and

8 Shi-chong Hsien 謝世忠, “Min zu sheng tai ren zhi shi ti xi de jian gou ping ya rong long sa ke nu zhe zou feng de ren wo de lie ren fu qin” 民族生態人知識體系的建構：評亞榮隆撒可努著走風的人：我的獵人父親 [Constructing the Epistemology of People of Ecosystem: Reading Ahronglong Sakinu’s The Wind Walker: My Father as a Hunter], Yuan zhu min jiao yu ji kan 原住民教育季刊 30 (2003): 136. My translation.

9 Linda Hogan, “First People,” Intimate Nature: The Bond Between Women and Animals (New York: Fawcett Books, 1998), 10.

145 these were laws the legal system will never come close to.”10 Her transformation of the political treaty into a sacred agreement between humans and nature demonstrates people’s responsibility to maintain the intricate web of relations important in Indigenous culture:

It is through our relationships with animals and plants that we maintain a way of living, a cultural ethics shaped from an ancient understanding of the world, and this is remembered in stories that are the deepest reflections of our shared lives on earth. That we held, and still hold, treaties with the animals and plant species is a known part of tribal culture. The relationship between human people and animals is still alive and resonant in the world, the ancient telling carried on by a constellation of stories, songs, and ceremonies, all shaped by lived knowledge of the world and its many interwoven, unending relationships. These stories and ceremonies keep open the bridge between one kind of intelligence and another, one species and another.11 Hogan urges people, Indigenous or not, to respect and honor these relations, and to take responsibility to maintain the sacred relationship so as to be a part of the world. After witnessing the Makah whaling controversy in 1999, Hogan showed her utmost worry of the broken treaty demonstrated by the unnecessary whaling in the name of cultural practice, and criticizes people’s failure to commit to the Indigenous tradition of respecting all relations; moreover, in People of the Whale she shows the consequences of a broken treaty with nature that would result in the loss of tribal culture and identity. The novel is set among the A’atsika people in Dark River, a fictional tribe and reservation located on the Olympic Peninsula in Washington State on the

Pacific coast of the United States. Because the A’atskika people have had a close relationship with whales that they used to depend on for life, they call themselves the “people of the whale” so as to honor the significance of whales in their culture. Since the passing of Witka Just, the last whaler, the A’atsika people have gradually lost the knowledge of whaling and related

10 Brenda Peterson and Linda Hogan, Sightings: The Gray Whales’ Mysterious Journey (Washington D.C., 2002), 153.

11 Linda Hogan, “First People,” in Intimate Nature: The Bond Between Women and Animals, ed. Linda Hogan, Deena Metzger, and Brenda Peterson (New York: Fawcett Books, 1998), 10.

146 ceremonies. As a result, the tribal council’s decision to whale after a long hiatus jeopardizes the

A’atsika people’s close relationship with ocean and whales. The whaling does not reinvigorate the tribal identity and practice because it does not abide by the traditional whaling method but brutally kills a young calf with guns and rifles which infringes the sacred tradition. The lack of proper ceremonies before and after the whale hunt saddens the indigenous witnesses. The wrongful whaling represents the broken bond between the A’atsika community and whales, and thus, a broken treaty with nature. Hogan’s attitude toward the whaling is obvious: she values a

“reverence for life”12 and condemns killing as a form of cultural practice.

The Makah whaling controversy in 1999 motivated Hogan to produce two texts,

Sightings: The Gray Whales’ Mysterious and People of the Whale and raised heated debates on whaling as a form of cultural practice. Situated on Neah Bay, Washington, on the very northwestern tip of the Olympic Peninsula, the Makah were once famous whale hunters. Whales have played an important part in Makah daily life and culture because whales were both substantial and spiritual. Makah whaling tradition drastically changed after the signing of the

Treaty of Neah Bay in 1855 in which Makah ceded “all their right, title and interest in and to the land”13 to the United States of America so as to secure the right of whaling and sealing. The ocean allowed Makah to counter the Dawes Allotment Act of 1887 because the Makah people were able to sustain their culturally specific marine identity, and the economic opportunities brought by whaling and sealing helped support the tribe.14 However, with the declining number

12 Peterson and Hogan, Sightings, 154.

13 “Treaty of Neah Bay, 1855,” Governor’s Office of Indian Affairs. https://goia.wa.gov/tribal-government/treaty-neah-bay-1855 14 See also Joshua L. Reid, The Sea is My Country: The Maritime World of the Makahs (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2015), and Charlotte Coté, Spirits of Our Whaling Ancestors: Revitalizing Makah and Nuu-chah-nulth Traditions (Seattle: University of

147 of grey whales, the Makah voluntarily gave up whaling in 1926. As the number of grey whales continued to drop, the gray whale was listed as an endangered species in 1969. After more than seventy years of hiatus, the Makah decided to resume the whaling tradition in 1995 after gray whales were removed from the endangered species list in 1994. The Makah invested years in convincing the International Whaling Commission (IWC) and National Oceanic and

Atmospheric Administration (NOAA) that whaling was crucial to their physical survival and cultural identity. They also claimed that the hunt was important for the Makah to reestablish their traditions and to honor their marine culture. The federal government finally acknowledged the

Makah’s treaty right to harvest grey whales. On May 17, 1999, Makah whalers asserted the treaty right by killing the first grey whale since 1926. The decision to whale has caused controversy not only within the tribe but also among different countries and indigenous nations.

Although ceremonies were performed before and after the whaling, negative opinions were widespread in the media. After the whaling in 1999, Makah have never performed another authorized whaling.15

The heated debate on the whaling controversy shows opposing opinions because the decision to whale indeed demonstrates the interconnected issues of cultural practice, belief, and identity. For example, journalist John Wickham pointed out that the media representation of the

Washington Press, 2010). Both authors delineate the history and tradition of Makah and consider the right to whale as an exercise of the treaty right as well as tribal sovereignty.

15 On September 8, 2007, five Makah people, without any form of permission, harpooned and shot a gray whale with rifles. Though the five people considered the right to whale was protected by the Treaty of Neah Bay, the untraditional hunt was denounced by tribal leaders for harming the tribe’s image. Three defendants pled guilty and were on probation while the other two were sentenced to three to five months in jail for the misdemeanor of violating the Marine Mammal Protection Act. See Kit Oldham, “Makah Whalers Harpoon and Shoot a Gray Whale in an Unauthorized Hunt on September 8, 2007,” HistoryLink.org https://historylink.org/File/9136

148 whaling reinforced the negative savage stereotype of Natives and failed to acknowledge the special relationship the Makah people have always had with the whales: “[to] the Makah, the ceremonial whale hunts are their subsistence, a diet centered at the heart of individual being and tribal identity.”16 Wickham argued that it was the disconnected modern worldview that dissociated people from nature and, ironically, blamed the Makah for killing. Therefore, he urged people to reconsider the special relationship the Makah had with the ocean and the whale as well as to honor the maritime culture. Wickham’s argument to honor the Makah whaling tradition was challenged by members of the nearby Quileute tribe who decided not to hunt whales in the early twentieth century. The Quileute people agreed that culture and tradition were essential to a tribe, but they also believed that traditions should be flexible. Fred Woodruff, a Quileute, says, “Our tribe fully supports our Makah neighbors in their treaty right. […] We Quileutes would like to offer a new vision and a different model for other tribes, as well as peoples.”17 As a result, the

Quileute tribal council decided to revive the tradition of Welcoming the Whales, a ceremony performed during ancestral days when the Quileute people still hunted whales and celebrated the return of the whales in early summer. The Welcoming the Whales ceremony has been held for thirteen years, and it provides participants with educational and cultural opportunities to learn the whale’s migration and the cultural significance to the Quileute people. As an advocate for honoring all-my-relations in Indigenous culture, Hogan and Brenda Peterson documented their journey following the migration route of gray whales and witnesses the negative ecological

16 John Wickham, “Resistance to Makah Whale Hunt Exposes Modern Madness,” Indian Country Today, October 16, 2005. https://indiancountrytoday.com/archive/resistance-to-makah- whale-hunt-exposes-modern-madness

17 Peterson and Hogan, Sightings, 190-191.

149 impact on whales in Sightings. Hogan and Peterson consider whales to be sentient beings and argue that the bond between whales and humans should be carefully maintained and honored.

Reflecting on the Makah whaling controversy, Hogan questioned if whaling could revitalize tribal culture because “if a whale hunt was done incorrectly, balance was disturbed.”18 In response to the claim that whaling is part of a unique tradition, Hogan explains, “tradition is about how you think about the world and how you behave within the world;” moreover, “it has to do with understanding a certain way of being in the world that is your tradition, from your tradition.”19 Tradition is crucial in each culture; the tradition of all-my-relations is exceptionally honored in Indigenous culture. Therefore, Hogan urges people to consider the complexity of cultural practice, belief, and identity by fictionalizing the whaling controversy in People of the

Whale so as to demonstrate her standpoint on promoting all-my-relations.

All-my-relations is multifold; it presents an Indigenous inclusive worldview by treating every being equally, it emphasizes the interdependent relationship among beings, and it teaches humans to be respectful to animal relations for their sacrifice. In People of the Whale, Hogan

18 Linda Hogan, “Silencing Tribal Grandmothers,” Seattle Times (Dec. 15, 1996). https://archive.seattletimes.com/archive/?date=19961215&slug=2365045. The Makah Tribal Council website offers a brief description of how a whale hunt should be conducted, including ceremonial prayers and fast before whaling, paddlers’ responsibility and traditional tools, and finally the songs to welcome the whale to the village. However, the controversy surrounding the 1999 Makah whale hunt was that the paddlers did not practice the traditional skills and technology because those who had the knowledge had already passed away. Therefore, the paddlers, despite disapproval, brought high powered rifle for safety reasons or to end the suffering of the whale. See “The Makah Whaling Tradition,” Makah Tribe. https://makah.com/makah-tribal-info/whaling/, and Rob van Ginkel, “The Makah Whale Hunt and Leviathan’s Death: Reinventing Tradition and Disputing Authenticity in the Age of Modernity,” Etnofoor 17, no. ½ (2004): 58-89.

19 Summer Harrison, “Sea Level: An Interview with Linda Hogan,” Interdisciplinary Studies in Literature and Environment 18.1 (Winter 2011), 168.

150 accentuates the sacred relationship between the A’atsika people and whales with stories and myths, and uses Thomas’s family as an example to illustrate the sea lineage. The A’atsika people trace their ancestry to whales because the petroglyphs show “the whale is giving birth to a human”20 in the sacred cave protected by elders. This mythical birth suggests that whales are

“the mother of life,21 and explains why the A’atsika people are the people of the whale. Besides whales, octopuses, seals, and salmons are “in the line of creation”22 that compose the A’atsika cosmology. Therefore, the A’atsika people have had a unique and long-lasting spiritual relationship with sea creatures. The protagonist Thomas’s family is an embodiment of the ancient bond because the family demonstrate the mysterious and close affinities with the oceans and sea animals. For example, Thomas is regarded by the A’atsika people to be the special one because one day after Thomas was born, “the octopus left the water, walked on all eight legs across land and into Seal Cave.”23 Knowing that the octopus was a holy creature, people realize that Thomas’s birth is blessed. Ruth, Thomas’s wife, was born with gill slits, which indicate that

“she’s bound for water.”24 Ruth could “hear through water, schools of fish and the whales before they surfaced”25 while other can’t; therefore, Ruth applies her natural gift to her fishing business and makes it successful. Similarly, Marco, the son of Thomas and Ruth, was born with webbed

20 Hogan, People of the Whale, 278.

21 Hogan, 278.

22 Hogan, 278.

23 Hogan, 15.

24 Hogan, 27.

25 Hogan, 27.

151 toes and the elders consider him “the incarnation of an ancestor”26 because he could dive into the ocean and hold his breath for a long time like traditional whalers did. Of Thomas’ family, his legendary grandfather Witka was the last whaler who could dive into the sea and “spoke with the whales, entreated them, and asked, singing with his arms extended.”27 He acquired the knowledge about the ocean and sea animals in his sleep: he “dreamed the map of underwater mountains and valleys, the landscape of rock and kelp forests and the language of current.”28 In order to have a good whale hunt, Witka would sing and pray to whales:

“Oh brother, sister whale,” he sang. “Grandmother whale, Grandfather whale. If you come here to land, we have beautiful leaves and trees. We have warm places. We have babies to feed and we’ll let your eyes gaze upon them. We will let your soul become a child again. We will pray it back into a body. It will enter our bodies. You will be part human. We’ll be part whale. Within our bodies, you will dance in warm rooms, create light, make love. We will be strong in thought for you. We will welcome you. We will treat you well. Then one day I will join you.”29 The significance of Witka’s prayers lies in regarding whales as family and blurring the distinction between animals and humans. Moreover, the prayer explains that A’tsika life is dependent on the whales because they are the major source of food. To hunt and consume a whale is to transform the whale into part of the human body so that humans could absorb the whale’s sacrifice and spiritual existence. Therefore, the whales in the A’atsika culture are more than their use as food; they are deeply embedded with special powers and qualities that they are able to teach and share with humans in dreams and visions. Witka’s prayer thus echoes the

26 Hogan, 38.

27 Hogan, 18.

28 Hogan, 19.

29 Hogan, 22-23.

152

Native hunting rituals in which a hunter must acknowledge “the transformation of [an animal’s] life, spirit, and flesh into that of the human.”30 Contrary to the Western perspective that sees clear distinctions between humans and animals, and deems such association with animals or spiritual realities illogical, the A’atsika people’s close connection to whales demonstrates a

“fluid and inclusive” worldview that values all forms of association which Cajete calls “the integration” of relationships that “recognized a conceptual and physical sphere of relationship to nature and its animals.”31 The creation stories, song and prayer in People of the Whale demonstrate the culture and tradition that the A’atsika people have honored; moreover, the sacred sea lineage and close affinities with the ocean and sea animals of the A’atsika people and

Thomas’s family present an indigenous worldview, reinforcing all-my-relations.

In the novel, the A’atsika tribal council’s decision to whale undermines the concept of all-my-relations by making whales a commodity and emphasizing the act of killing rather than the celebration of life and connectedness. The A’atsika tribal council argues that the treaty right guarantees the A’atsika people the right to whale, and “whale-hunting will bring us back to ourselves”32 and to the great whaling tradition. Dwight, the council chair, tries to promise the community members that the whalers will abide by the traditional approach and cultural decorum. Yet Ruth and several tribal elders argue that killing a whale in the name of cultural survival is not reviving the tradition. Though Ruth is worried about the dwindling whaling knowledge and tradition, she knows that the council members are lost and greedy because they

30 Hogan, 73.

31 Cajete, Native Science, 150.

32 Hogan, People of the Whale, 68.

153 have secretly received money for the whale. As a result, Ruth urges the community members to reconsider the whale hunt with her emotional speech:

And who here has the kind of relationship to the whales that our ancestors had? Who among us knows the songs and the correct way to bring in the whale? Who will prepare by fasting? Who will sew its mouth shut so it doesn’t sink to the bottom of the ocean? Which of you knows what our grandparents knew? We can’t jump into this because someone has made an under-the-table offer of money… Tell the sea what you are going to do. It is already listening to your wards, deciding things in a new language.33 The questions that Ruth raises are meant to recall the connectedness her people once shared with whales and the ocean, and she warns them that killing is not part of the tradition and it is a bad choice. Ruth points out that the A’atsika people have not hunted whales since the 1920s and “no one now even remembers the taste of whale meat.”34 The decision to hunt, from Ruth’s viewpoint, disturbs the balance among people, whales, nature, and culture. In fact, the conflict between the tribal council and Ruth reflects the disagreement in the Makah community. In

“Silencing Tribal Grandmothers,” Hogan reveals her observation on the Makah whaling controversy that the tribal council did not consult the elders on the whale hunt and insisted that whales had served a subsistence function to the Makah diet despite the fact that they had not consumed whale meat since 1920s. Two tribal elders, Albert Thompson and Dotti Chamblin, criticized the Makah tribal council’s disrespect to the elders and explained that the so-called ceremonial hunt was unnecessary physically or spiritually for the Makah people. They argued that whales were honored because they had provided food and spiritual strength to the Makah.

The whale hunt did not show respect to the whales or the culture because its purpose was to kill rather than being thankful for survival. As an advocate against whaling, Hogan applies the

33 Hogan, 82-83.

34 Hogan, 89.

154 observation to the novel and utilizes Ruth to demonstrate her standpoint on the controversy: honor the culture that respects and protects all forms of life.

The scandalous whaling in The People of the Whale represents a broken treaty between people and nature because it defies the concept of all-my-relations and subverts the notion of the proper way to hunt. Cajete explains the concept, “the Hunter of Good Heart,” in Native

Science as “a way of living, a way of relating, a way of ethics and proper behavior” that a hunter should know and abide by.35 In other words, a good hunter does not solely rely on his skills; rather, a good hunter is well prepared of body, mind, and spirit that involves “an ethic of conservation and ecologically sound approaches for maintaining the life of the animal hunted.”36

The good hunter is knowledgeable about the surroundings and humble to the animals hunted.

Hunting prayers and rituals are meant to demonstrate “an intimate understanding of the behavior of the animals hunted, a respect for their life needs and for the ways those animals should be properly used and treated.” 37 Therefore, the good hunter understands the concept of all-my- relations and is grateful to the animals for survival, and their spiritual guidance. However, the whale hunt in People of the Whale does not reflect the ideal of a good hunter. Hogan depicts the controversial whale hunt from Ruth’s and Thomas’s perspectives: Ruth observes the whaling from the shore, while Thomas experiences the chaotic moments during whaling. The so-called cultural practice has turned into a spectacle for news reporters in helicopters. Ruth and several tribal members stand at the shore and watch the whale hunters push the canoe into the water with a casual and even disrespectful manner because some men in the canoe are drunk and see the

35 Cajete, Native Science, 158.

36 Cajete, 161.

37 Cajete, 159.

155 whaling as if it were a fun activity. Moreover, the whalers do not express their gratitude in songs or prayers before whaling and they do not know the proper way to bring the whale to the land.

Ruth is depressed to see the impertinent whalers and is even more dispirited to see a dead young whale which clearly suffered to death with multiple gunshot wounds. The whalers, from Ruth’s perspective, are not good hunters because they do not have empathy for the whale, and thus they fail to recognize the sacred connection to the whale. Similarly, Thomas recalls the chaotic moments in the canoe after the whaling. He remembers his son Marco telling him not to kill the whale because “it was too young to be killed;”38 however, the rifle in Thomas’s hand reminded him of being in Vietnam and, as a result, he fired at the whale and the rest of the team followed.

After the whale is dragged to the shore, Thomas finds that no one stays for a proper ceremony, and the people who help him flense and cut the whale are not A’atsika but experienced commercial whalers from other places. Thomas feels shameful and guilty because he finally realizes that killing a whale is not the solution, but an exacerbation of the problem of weakening cultural identity:

[The whalers] didn’t apologize to the spirit of the whale, nor did they sing to it or pray as they said they were going to do. He alone prayed and he did it silently because he thought, really believed, the men would laugh if they heard him. He realized they didn’t even believe in the lives of their ancestors, that it was as if those old ones, the ones whose presence he often felt, were only story to them. Maybe they’d lost all feeling because they’d had to in order to survive in a place where kids shot guns, killed dogs, and died of alcohol poisoning, but he’d hoped this would be something different than just a killing, that it would mean something, that it would do something for them.39 Thomas hoped that whaling could be an opportunity for him to reconnect to the tribal culture and identity after his traumatic war experience in Vietnam; however, the whaling does not bring him

38 Cajete, 93.

39 Cajete, 95.

156 closer to the A’atsika culture but instead makes him “the man who killed the whale.”40

Furthermore, Thomas does not regard the whale as kin but is intimidated by “[its] reputation as

Devil Fish and sea demon.”41 Rather than becoming empowered by the ocean lineage to whales,

Thomas sees the whale as if it were an enemy and threat to his life. Thomas and his fellow whalers break the special bond with whales by treating the whale carcass as a trophy and neglecting the physical and spiritual significance of whales. The whaling becomes a spectacle that goes against the important Native philosophy of all-my-relations.

Hogan calls attention to the recognition of all-my-relations in People of the Whale, but she does not romanticize the concept. She utilizes the deaths of the young whale and Marco to suggest the obstacles the A’atsika people have experienced and the bad choice the whaling represents. Like his grandfather Witka, Marco is considered the chosen one by the tribal elders because he acquires knowledge through careful observation and remembers the prayers and songs naturally. When Dwight, the chair of the tribal council, decides to hold whale hunt, the tribal elders are forced to choose Marco as the canoe leader because at least “he has the depths of tradition.”42 However, Marco feels conflicted for he knows the whaling cannot strengthen tribal identity nor “stich together the truths of divided worlds.”43 The divided worlds Marco refers to are the traditional A’atsika community that respects the traditions and honors whales and, on the other hand, the modern A’atsika community that struggles economically, resulting in involuntary

40 Hogan, People of the Whale, 100.

41 Hogan, 93.

42 Hogan, 79.

43 Hogan, 79.

157 changes in lifestyle such as unemployment, poverty, alcoholism and domestic violence. For example, Dark River used to be a prosperous place where “houses were made of pearls,” but “the nearby fishing towns are now abandoned, as is the sawmill in disrepair.”44 The economic difficulty has influenced the A’atsika people such that they gradually disregard their connectedness with the ocean and sea creatures and consider killing the sacred sea animals to be

“only practical.”45 Unfortunately, the controversial whale hunt is practical rather than cultural, and the financial profit is not for the community but only for certain individuals. Contrary to

“Native models of community” that emphasizes “collective survival” 46 of humans, community, and nature, the decision to whale insinuates a broken bond and worldview. As an appointed leader of the whale hunt, Marco is torn between sustaining the tradition of seeing whales as kin, and revitalizing culture with a whale hunt. Marco expresses his fear of killing a whale to Thomas in the canoe and asks him to “tell the sea to keep its creatures away.”47 Marco is not afraid of whale hunt; rather, he fears that the unnecessary killing would damage their interconnectedness with all forms of life. Marco keeps telling Thomas not to kill the young whale, that “It’s young.

It’s not the right one to hunt. It is friendly. It just wants to see us. We are relatives.”48 No one listens to him and worse, Marco is killed by Dwight out of anger and jealousy, for he thinks

Marco is too young to be a leader. The two deaths, the young whale and Marco, demonstrate the conflict and tension the A’atsika people experience in modern life and reflect the “inability to

44 Hogan, 9.

45 Hogan, 15.

46 Cajete, Native Science, 105.

47 Hogan, People of the Whale, 85.

48 Hogan, 99.

158 come to terms with an essentially dysfunctional cosmology.”49 As Cajete explains, the influence of Western thoughts on Native communities lead them to see the world “as dead matter, private property, commodities, or commercial resources.”50 Moreover, the loss of two lives suggests a bad choice the A’atsika people have made due to adopting the Western idea of “dominion over nature”51 and “the hierarchy of life,”52 neglecting the Native tradition and philosophy of all-my- relations.

The problematic whaling in People of the Whale demonstrates the complicated issues of survival: the survival of nature, culture, and community. Joni Adamson describes the novel as

“indigenous cosmopolitics”53 because it shows the social, economic and political challenges that modern-day Native communities have to face. Similar to Adamson’s analysis, Cajete points out that the moment the Native worldview of all-my-relations is disturbed is when “humans began to be disrespectful to their animal relations … to abuse animals, kill them without need, … and mistreat them in various ways.”54 Therefore, the unnecessary whaling dissociates the A’atsika people from the cetacean world and from their culture. People of the Whale closes with

Thomas’s mysterious disappearance after the second whaling conducted by Dwight. Some say

Thomas is dead because Dwight shot him in the heart and his body floats above water. Others

49 Cajete, Native Science, 53.

50 Cajete, 53.

51 Cajete, 53.

52 Cajete, 53.

53 Joni Adamson, “Whale as Cosmos: Multi-species Ethnography and Contemporary Indigenous Cosmopolitics,” Revista Canaria de Estudio Engleses 64 (2012), 33.

54 Cajete, Native Science, 151.

159 see a whale carry Thomas, and still others witness “an octopus tentacle wrap around him like a snake and hold him into the air.”55 Whether Thomas is dead or not does not matter because he seems to reconnect himself to the sacred sea lineage and be protected by the animals significant to the A’atsika community. The whale and the octopus reflect the profound relationships with the ocean and the “spirit world”56 of all forms of life. Jennifer Love explains, “This ability to hear and communicate nature’s sounds is for Hogan one way to heal the Western-inscribed alienation between humans and nonhuman nature.”57 Hogan utilizes the unfortunate whale hunt episode to demonstrate the separation; however, she closes the novel with a sense of hope by showing the return to the tales and stories and ancestors in the ocean. The whaling episode underscores

Hogan’s worry about modern misunderstandings of cultural revitalization and forgetting the interconnectedness of humans, nature, and culture. Furthermore, she provides readers,

Indigenous or not, a chance to reconsider the sacred treaty we have with nature and to revisit the concept of all-my-relations in Native philosophy.

The Humanized Nature and an Ecological Hunter in The Wind Walker

Just as whaling culture defines the people of the northwest coast of North America, so hunting culture is definitive for Indigenous Taiwanese inhabitants of the island. Paiwan tribe, especially, is known for its hunting culture and brave hunters; however, the Paiwan hunting tradition is dwindling because of the change of lifestyle. In order to revive the Paiwan hunting culture and identity, Sakinu, one of the best and most famous Indigenous storytellers in Taiwan,

55 Hogan, People of the Whale, 301.

56 Hogan, 301.

57 Jennifer Love, “Truth Telling in Linda Hogan’s Savings,” in From the Center of Tradition: Critical Perspectives on Linda Hogan, ed. Barbara J. Cook (Boulder: University Press of Colorado, 2003), 82.

160 uses stories of simple language, vivid description, and personal experiences to document the significant Paiwan hunting. Being a Paiwan hunter has always been a prominent motif in his writing. For example, his first publication in 1998, 山豬，飛鼠，撒可努 [Wild Boar, Flying

Squirrel, Sakinu], a short memoir of his childhood and interactions with his families in Lalaulan village in Taitung County, has been translated to English and Japanese, and it was adapted into a movie entitled The Sage Hunter in 2005 that tells a Paiwan leader’s endeavors to protect the

Paiwan ancestral land and to sustain the Paiwan hunting culture. After the successful publication of Wild Boar, Flying Squirrel, Sakinu, and release of The Sage Hunter, Sakinu has been determined to introduce the Paiwan hunting culture to his readers. Therefore, he published two memoirs in 2011, 走風的人[The Wind Walker] in which he shares memories of hunting with his father, and 外公的海 [My Grandpa’s Ocean] in which he tells stories about survival of his maternal grandparents. Furthermore, he established 獵人學校 [Hunters School] in 2005 to teach

Indigenous children and teenagers the hunter’s philosophy, including the Paiwan hunting knowledge and ethics as well as the relationship between human and nature.58 Sakinu’s ambition is to teach the hunting philosophy he has learned from his father to the younger generations because he regards it his responsibility to pass down the Paiwan hunting culture.

A hunter, according to the Paiwan culture, is more than a skillful person; he is a mediator between nature and humans.

58 The majority of the participants are Indigenous children and teenagers, and they are not Paiwan exclusively. Sakinu also welcomes non-Indigenous participants because he considers it an opportunity for him to introduce the hunting skills and Paiwan culture to all the participants. Unfortunately, Sakinu’s Hunter School was destroyed by fire on May 11th, 2019 along with his collection of Paiwan hunting tools and traditional Paiwan artifacts. The plan of reestablishment is still ongoing to date.

161

什麼是獵人？獵人，在排灣族的語言裡指的是：能聽得懂土地和自然語言的人；沒有自私和利益：最知道分享的人；能力和武功智慧豐厚的象徵。所以，獵人的真正意義，不是在於狩獵，而是一個與自然、土地的溝通者。59 [What is a hunter? A hunter, in Paiwan language, means a person who understands the languages of land and nature; a person who is selfless and does not hunt for self-gain; a person who shares; a person who has abundant knowledge and skills in hunting. So, the true essence of a hunter does not lie in the act of hunting; rather, it suggests a communicator between nature and land.]

In addition to hunting skills, the cultivation of a hunter focuses on learning the hunting ethics and taboos so as to understand the importance of life and human dependence on nature. Gaiyang,

Sakinu’s father, is an acclaimed Paiwan hunter whom the fellow Paiwan hunters call the Wind

Walker because no other hunters understand the mountains and animals better than him. “走風的

人在排灣的話叫里古颼，跟風一樣快的意思… 走風的人是被土地和自然允許及接受的

人”60 [The wind walker, likuso in Paiwan language, means moving as fast as wind… The wind walker is allowed and accepted by land and nature].The land and nature give permission for

Gaiyang to hunt because he understands the language of nature, meaning he respects nature and takes responsibility to sustain balance. Sakinu documents the hunting trips with his father and records lessons he learns from Gaiyang. When entering the hunting ground, Gaiyang becomes part of the natural surroundings so as to know the movement of the wind and animals with all his senses. The animals, in Gaiyang’s opinion, are the extended families that share human traits and sometimes outsmart humans. Gaiyang’s keen observation of the animals and abundant knowledge about the natural surroundings make him a skillful hunter; moreover, Gaiyang as an exemplar of a Paiwan hunter who strives to maintain a sense of balance and knows his limit

59 Sakinu 撒可努, Shan zhu fei shu sa ke nu 山豬，飛鼠，撒可努 [Wild Boar, Flying Squirrel, Sakinu] (New Taipei City: Yelubook, 2011), 242. My translation.

60 Sakinu 撒可努, Zou fengde ren 走風的人[The Wind Walker] (New Taipei City: Yelubook, 2011), 44. My translation.

162 demonstrates the essence of a true Paiwan hunter. His determination and persistence of practicing the Paiwan hunter’s philosophy make Sakinu reconsider the significant Paiwan hunting culture. Seeing the traditional Paiwan hunting ground from Gaiyang’s perspective,

Sakinu feels “被自然接受和擁抱”61 [recognized and embraced by nature], and seems healed by

“無形的力量”62 [an omnipresent force].It may be the force of nature, Paiwan culture, and, most importantly, the love of his ancestors. The hunting trips are the opportunities for Sakinu to rebuild the relationship with Gaiyang because he finally understands Gaiyang’s frustration as a hunter without a hunting ground and appreciates his father’s efforts in adapting to the changing lifestyle while honoring the Paiwan hunting philosophy: “存在的理由就是相互的依賴”63

[interdependence is the reason to survive]. Sakinu’s Wind Walker is more than the memorable hunting trips with Gaiyang, however; it contains crucial lessons of the Paiwan hunting philosophy that values the ecological balance between human, animals and nature, and treats all forms of life equally, thereby echoing the concept of all-my-relations.

The Paiwan hunting culture in The Wind Walker involves both skills and ethics, including knowledge, rituals, and worldview; however, with the decreasing number of Indigenous hunters, it has become more and more difficult to sustain hunting culture. In an Indigenous community, teenage males are encouraged to go hunting with the male adults, especially fathers and grandfathers, to learn the hunting skills and knowledge so as to prepare them for their first

61 Sakinu, 22.

62 Sakinu, 22.

63 Sakinu, 22.

163 official hunt.64 When the teenage males are able to hunt an animal successfully, they are recognized as adults by tribal members. However, the decrease in tribal land leads to a change of lifestyle from hunting and farming to working in cities, and the stereotype of hunting as a form of barbarism has a tremendous negative impact on the Paiwan tribe. Moreover, many existing hunters do not abide by the traditional hunting ethics that emphasize balance and sustainability; rather, they treat animals as commodities so that they can survive the hardship of unemployment or poverty. Gaiyang understands the difficulty the Indigenous people have experienced; however, he worries that skilled hunters will gradually forget the hunter’s philosophy of respecting lives and tradition:

為了現實的環境因素而屠獵獵物，傳統的狩獵觀念不在，我們一再的跟土地要求，而忘了給自然、土地復原的時間，我們將失去土地與自然對我們的信任，到那時候，就再也解讀不出自然的符號和圖騰。65 [Killing and hunting animals for practical reasons would result in the disappearance of traditional hunting philosophy. We keep taking from land without giving land and nature time to recover. Eventually, we would lose trust from land and nature, and we would never be capable of interpreting the sings of nature.]

A good hunter, according to Gaiyang, is able to provide and share what he has with the community, and cultivate wisdom from nature as well as from accumulated experiences. More importantly, he is humble when taking an animal’s life and thankful for its sacrifice. In her essay,

“Action and Knowledge: Reserving Hunting Culture,” Iwan Nawi points out the necessity of reserving the hunting culture:

64 The Paiwan tribe is not the only tribe that values hunting culture highly; the tribes of Rukai (魯凱), Puyuma (卑南), Amis (阿美), and Bunun (布農) share similar hunting approaches and cultures because these Indigenous communities reside within the Central Mountain Range where it has been the major hunting ground of the above communities

65 Sakinu, The Wind Walker, 262. My translation.

164

唯面對當今原住民族社會變遷劇烈的世代，加以長期國家政策及動保團體等之挑戰，傳承狩獵已非易事，甚至可以說不復存在。生活經濟的變遷無法實際參與狩獵，更遑論獲取狩獵文化相關知識…近年族人在諸多挑戰狩獵議題之下，深刻體驗到狩獵文化瀕臨消失的困境，試圖透過如部落學校或獵人學校，來教授對下一代學習各種裝置陷阱機類的技術，以及對自然生態環境、各種動植物及其習性的認識，以及人與自然關係的智慧倫理等狩獵文化相關知識。66 [As the generation who witnesses the drastic changes in lifeways in Indigenous communities, passing down the hunting culture to the future generation has become almost impossible because of the obstacles imposed by the governmental policies and animal right groups. The change of lifestyle makes it difficult for Indigenous people to hunt and obtain hunting-related knowledge… In recent years, Indigenous people have witnessed and experienced the loss of hunting culture, and therefore, they have established tribal schools or hunter schools pass down the hunting related knowledge and culture to the younger generations, which include the skills of setting traps, knowledge about animals and plants, and the ethics of relationship between human and nature.]

Indeed, the hunting culture is considered the accumulation of knowledge about nature and survival, as well as the recognition of kinship, social norms, and worldview. The hunting culture or the hunter’s philosophy is evident in Gaiyang’s ability to be a communicator, translator, and protector of nature and Paiwan hunting culture. The essence of being a good hunter is to show respect and humility.

As a mediator between nature and humans, Gaiyang regards the animals as kin, and his animal instinct makes him a knowledgeable and humble hunter. In his “Constructing the

Epistemology of People of Ecosystem,” Hsieh points out that Indigenous hunters tend to perceive the world from multiple perspectives because they consider all life forms equal and sentient. Therefore, the interactions between Indigenous hunters and the animals are a form of

66 Iwan Nawi 伊萬•納威, “ji shi hang dong ye shi zhi shi bao cun shou lie wen hua” 既是行動也是知識：保存狩獵文化” [Action and Knowledge: Reserving Hunting Culture], Yuan jiao ping lun 原教評論 72 (December 2016), 6-7. My translation. The policies, including Arms and Ammunition Ordinance, Wildlife Conservation Act, and Game Law, are often in conflict with tribal hunting culture and rituals. Therefore, the policies are gradually modified so as to reach an agreement.

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“生命之間的優質對話” 67 [an optimizing dialogue among all life forms]. This dialogue, according to Hsieh, reveals the similarities among humans and animals, and reflects a hunter who show “謙讓自己，位尊牠者”68 [humility and respects life larger than self]. To be a good hunter, Gaiyang tells Sakinu to use his imagination and observation so as to interpret the secret language of animals: “要當個獵人，要對你所獵到的獵物習性有相對人格化的感受，有時

候把自己想成是你要列的獵物，或是把動物當成我們一樣(…你能打到什麼樣的獵物，就

代表象徵你有跟他一樣的習性和能力”69 [As a hunter, you need humanize the animals: imagine you are the animals you intend to hunt or see animals as humans… The animal hunted suggests the shared characteristics and abilities between you and the animal” Sakinu observes that Gaiyang’s swift movement resembles that of various animals:

其實任誰都無法想像，有時候連腳帶手像猴子一樣用爬的，有時候又像游動潛行的蛇，匍伏著前進；更有時候像山羊和山羌在險崖後陡峭走過、躍過、跳過，進入一大片濃密深厚的芒草；又得像山豬把身子放低、彎腰、頭低低的，以免被像利刃的芒葉割傷。70 [In fact, no one can imagine that sometimes [my father] climbs with four limbs like a monkey; sometimes he crawls like a snake creeping forward; sometimes he walks, hops, and skips like a mountain goat or a barking deer on the cliff and into thick silver grass; sometimes he lowers his body and bends over with his head close to the ground so as to avoid skin abrasion by razor-sharp edges of leaves.]

67 Hsieh, “Constructing the Epistemology of People of Ecosystem,” 138. My translation.

68 Hsieh, 140. My translation. The pronoun “他,” a third-person-singular pronoun, is to signify a person, usually a male. The pronoun “牠” Hsieh uses is composed with a radical that indicate animals. Hsieh’s use of the specific pronoun that indicates animals explains the importance of animals in Indigenous hunting culture.

69 Sakinu, The Wind Walker, 92. My translation.

70 Sakinu, 76. My translation.

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Indeed, Gaiyang transforms himself into different animals because in order to hunt animals, he has to imagine their movement in different natural surroundings. Learning from animals, a hunter knows the safe path to walk on and avoids potential danger. Thinking and acting like animals does not suggest becoming primitive; rather it means a hunter’s use of instinct and quick response to danger. More importantly, survival suggests not just a hunter’s knowledge about nature but also respect for life. As Gaiyang demonstrates his animal instinct in order to have a successful hunti, he sees animals as his kin because the animals, from Gaiyang’s perspective, have distinct personalities. For example, wild boars are smart to leave marks at the spots of emerging bamboo shoots so they can come back later to enjoy the tender and fresh food. Flying squirrels communicate in different tones and pitches to tell their friends where to find fresh leaves to eat or to avoid hunters. Mountain goats are intuitively cautious about their surroundings: “這裡的山羊可能有買金屬探測器，探測到這附近有獵陷…不然山羊走到獵

陷前又折返，有的繞道，或是不走下來，這裡的山羊越來越聰明了”71 [The goats here probably have metal detectors with them so that they know where the traps are… Otherwise, the footprints show that some goats stopped in front of the trap and made a u turn, some made a detour, and some just stropped there. The goats are getting smarter]. Gaiyang is not frustrated with not catching a goat; rather, he is amused at the cleverness of the goats and tells Sakinu to accept the “在期待和失望中找到平衡的價值觀”72[value of balance between expectation and disappointment]. As a hunter expects to catch animals, he needs to understand that a hunted animal is a gift granted from nature and the ancestors. Rather than being disappointed at not

71 Sakinu, 150. My translation.

72 Sakinu, 149. My translation.

167 catching an animal, the hunter needs to better his skills, and wait patiently for the permission of nature and ancestors, according to the Paiwan hunter’s philosophy. The dialogue Gaiyang has with animals shows his knowledge of the secret language of animals with his keen observation and creative imagination; moreover, the humanized animals and Gaiyang’s animal instinct reiterate the blurring distinction between animals and humans and an inclusive Indigenous worldview.

Gaiyang does not romanticize the concept of all-my-relations and nor does he glorify the act of killing because hunting is a hunter’s means to survive and to maintain balance in nature.

Researching the conflict between Indigenous hunting methods and government policies on animal reserves, Chia-chi Pei points out that the management of natural resources is regulated by modern scientific approaches and imposed by the local government. Those policies disregard the need and lifestyle of the Indigenous communities and view them as violators of conservation. As a result, Pei urges people to reconsider the importance of the Indigenous knowledge on ecology and sustainability:

事實上，在原住民的傳統裡，生活就是如何與土地與自然資源相處的哲學。在生活上，原住民對山林不但沒有大規模的開發破壞，其狩獵採集制度和狩獵技巧中，亦存在著許多有意義的管制機制，以避免對周遭環境竭澤而漁的開發或利用，因而使自然環境得以維持，自然環境得以維持，自然資源也得以永續的存在。因此，野生動植物未曾因傳統的狩獵採集而消失，自然環境亦未曾遭到毀滅性的改變。73 In fact, life is about learning how to manage land and natural resources in Indigenous traditions. Indigenous people do not have large scaled development; rather, their

73 Chia-chi Pei 裴家騏, “Jiu hui dao guo qu ba 就回到過去吧!” [Let’s Return to the Past], Yuan jiao jie 原教界 72 (December 2016), 19. My translation. The title of the article is somewhat misleading because it seems to indicate that Indigenous communities belong to the past. In fact, the past the author refers to is the Indigenous Traditional Knowledge. As an animal conservationist, Pei analyzed the methods Rukai people have utilized to set up traps according to different seasons, landscapes, which coincide with the modern natural resources management, and he concluded with calling attention to the inclusion of the Indigenous knowledge in policy making.

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approaches in hunting and gathering are meant to sustain the natural resources and to avoid damages to the natural surroundings. Therefore, animals and plants have not been exhausted because of the traditional methods of hunting and gathering, and there has not been catastrophic changes to the natural environment.

Pei calls attention to the inclusion of the Indigenous knowledge in government policies because

Indigenous hunters utilize traditional knowledge to hunt and to preserve, according to different seasons and natural surroundings. Therefore, the Indigenous approach can improve the existing management of natural resources. In The Wind Walker, Gaiyang explains that hunting is crucial to maintaining balance in nature. In one of the hunting trips, Sakinu finds a Formosa rock monkey caught in Gaiyang’s trap, and he warns his father to release the monkey because it is a protected species.74 The idea of a protected species is problematic in Gaiyang’s opinion because what should be protected is the balance between nature and its inhabitants. Formosa rock monkeys have started to populate because of the decreasing numbers of the natural enemies such as clouded leopards, leopard cats, and black bears. After being on the list of protected animals, the monkeys are free from threats of hunters. As a result, the monkeys play havoc with their natural surroundings and the nearby orchards. From a hunter’s perspective, Gaiyang regards the protected monkeys as an example of ecological imbalance because without natural enemies and with the conservation act, the overpopulated monkeys disrupt the ecology and do damage to crops. To illustrate his viewpoint on balance, Gaiyang says, “一隻聰明的雲豹絕不會讓他土地

的獵物消失，因為他知道，當土地上的獵物消失後，自己的生命也會受到威脅”75 [A smart

74 Formosa rock monkeys were removed from the list of endangered animals on January 9, 2019 after the number of monkeys increased from twenty thousand to almost thirty thousand during the last two decades. Though the species has been removed from the list, hunters are not allowed to hunt monkeys because the monkey’s primary habitat is within the conservation areas in which hunting is prohibited. Moreover, it is illegal to keep, hunt, and kill Formosa rock monkeys per the Wildlife Conservation Act.

75 Sakinu, The Wind Walker, 298. My translation.

169 clouded leopard will not kill all its prey because without other animals, it would not survive].

Though animals may not have language, their behavior indeed suggests that they know how to maintain the ecological balance by keeping the overpopulated animals. Gaiyang claims that hunters should do the same to “讓生命平衡”76 [keep lives in balance] and to “拿我們該拿的”77

[take what we are allowed]. Gaiyang carefully examines the monkey caught in his trap and knows that the monkey is not a mother, an infant, or a leader; in fact, the monkey’s being alone with its herd around indicates that it is not an important member in its herd. Therefore, Gaiyang kills the monkey quickly all the while glancing at Sakinu’s repulsed facial expression for Sakinu cannot bear the cruelty of killing an animal. After putting the monkey down, Gaiyang solemnly tells Sakinu that a hunter’s act of killing is not equivalent to brutality; rather it represents “存在

的學問和智慧”78 [the knowledge and wisdom of survival]. Gaiyang acknowledges that animals are kin because they depend on each other survive; similarly, he understands his responsibility as a hunter is to feed his community while maintaining balance in nature. Gaiyang knows where the animals are, and he follows the rules of nature by taking what he needs, which is the lesson he wants Sakinu to learn. “撒可努，你要記住，我們沒有權利因為太了解動物的習性，而去改

變破壞一個原本就存在的生態物種，我們要因為了解而讓他擁有繼續存在的權利，而節制

是最好的方法”79 [Remember this, Sakinu, that we have no right to change or destroy a species just because we know it so well. We have to guarantee its right to exist and moderation is the key

76 Sakinu, 289. My translation.

77 Sakinu, 289. My translation.

78 Sakinu, 301. My translation.

79 Sakinu, 221. My translation.

170 to survival]. From Gaiyang’s perspective, hunting is for the survival of a hunter’s family and community, a means to sustainability, and a recognition to animals. Rather than romanticizing the idea of all-my-relations, Gaiyang demonstrates how a hunter realizes the concept: taking a life and showing his gratitude; understanding the nature of life and being a part of the circle of life.

As prayers are necessary during hunting because they are a form of dialogue between the hunter and nature, the term vuvu in Gaiyang’s prayers, accentuates the connection of life among nature, land, ancestors, and future generations. Prayers are necessary at different moments during hunting, and the term vuvu, meaning the elders, ancestors, and descendants, appears when

Gaiyang is getting ready for the hunting trip, placing traps, putting down an animal, asking permission to use natural resources, and ending a hunting trip, to name a few. In Paiwan culture, hunters have to ask permission from nature and ancestors before entering the shared Paiwan hunting ground, and the animals hunted are considered gifts from ancestors to the community.

Because the meaning of a hunter in Paiwan culture is the one “到獵場背負獵物回來的人”80

[who carries animals back home from the hunting ground]. Gaiyang tells Sakinu that “我們只是

替祖先把獵物揹回去，讓族人和部落享用”81 [we carry the prey back home on behalf of our ancestors so that our people and community are able to enjoy]. If a hunter disrespects nature and ancestors by boasting about his skills or knowledge, vuvu will “會把他放獵陷的權利拿走”82

[take away his right of placing traps] so that his traps will no longer catch animals. Even though

80 Sakinu, 82. My translation.

81 Sakinu, 82. My translation.

82 Sakinu, 107. My translation.

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Gaiyang and his fellow hunters are equipped with modern weapons, they do not take more than they need because the weapons are used to survive rather than to destroy. A humble hunter pays tribute to the Paiwan ancestors for their generosity and permission, and in return, he is given abundant animals and entrusted with the responsibility to maintain the ecological balance for the future generation as is shown in Gaiyang’s prayer: “我親愛的祖先們，我知道你們一直就在我

們身旁，看顧著我們不讓不好的一切接近我們⋯⋯現在我們所享的一切，感謝自然和土地

的所賜，讓我們的生命和靈魂有所寄託和回歸”83 [My dear vuvu, I know you have been with us and protected us from bad luck.….We thank you, nature and land, for giving me everything we have, and providing a sense of belonging for our lives and souls]. The term vuvu in Gaiyang’s prayers demonstrates his recognition for the Paiwan ancestors, and suggests the responsibility to maintain balance in nature for the future generations. Moreover, vuvu indicates the special relationship and inheritance of knowledge and culture between the Paiwan elders and the younger generations as an old hunter explains:

排灣有句話說：獵人是有原則和規矩的，你拿了太多而不知道去分享，大自然會用你的生命來交換⋯⋯ 很多老獵人為什麼喜歡帶著照顧他的 vuvu（孫子）去打獵，這是因為他相信，他可以借到 vuvu 的機會和運氣⋯⋯ 這個是我們排灣人一直相信的習俗。你看，我現在老了，但在還有力氣時，曾經照顧我的 vuvu，用他的運氣打到獵物，用他的獵物來養他，到我年老了，沒有力量再去打獵時，就換他去山上打獵照顧我。所以當我當阿公時，就要認真的教我的 vuvu，什麼是獵人。84 There is a Paiwan saying that goes like this, “A hunter has his discipline and rules. Nature will demand his life for exchange if a hunter takes too much but does not share.” […] Many old hunters like to bring their vuvu (grandchildren) to hunt because they believe that their vuvu would bring them good luck. […] This is the custom Paiwan people have always believed in. Look. I am old now. But when I was young and energetic, I took care of my vuvu, and fed him with the animals I hunted with his luck. Now I am old, and I no longer have the energy to hunt. It is time for him to hunt and to take care of me. So when I become a grandpa, I have to teach my vuvu how to be a hunter.

83 Sakinu, 258. My translation.

84 Sakinu, 340-341. My translation.

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Vuvu in both Gaiyang’s prayer and the elder’s explanation not only demonstrates the connection of lives from the past to the future but also suggests the necessity to keep balance in nature. The

Paiwan hunter culture is more than the cultivation of skillful hunters; with the Paiwan hunter’s philosophy, hunters need to interpret the language of nature and to honor the Paiwan value that all are related.

The significance of Paiwan hunting culture in The Wind Walker demonstrates the hunter’s philosophy of ecological balance and the connection of lives, and marks the importance of the Paiwan identity. Hsieh refers to Gaiyang as a person of ecosystem because Gaiyang is not only the embodiment of the Paiwan hunting culture but also the accumulative knowledge of nature. The hunting trips are crucial opportunities for Sakinu to understand Paiwan ecology, and for Taiwanese people, Indigenous or not, to “向部落學習”85 [learn from the tribe]. Hsieh urges people to (re)visit Indigenous traditional knowledge on ethnozoology and ethnobotany because the knowledge is more than a form of science; it is “千百年來一直是溫馨的排灣人生命體驗故

事”86 [the heartfelt life stories of Paiwan people for hundreds of years]. The hunting culture and stories indeed help define the Paiwan identity. Before going hunting with Gaiyang, Sakinu often questions the meaning of being a Paiwan, for he has witnessed the loss of land, language, and culture as well as his father’s struggle to find balance between being a traditional Paiwan hunter and trying to survive in big cities. After the hunting trips, Sakinu cannot provide a clear definition of Paiwan identity; however, he realizes that Paiwan identity is closely related to the

85 Hsieh, “Constructing the Epistemology of People of Ecosystem,” 141. My translation.

86 Sakinu, The Wind Walker, 138. My translation.

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Paiwan core value: “節制二字卻是傳統排灣的思維和價值觀87 [moderation is the traditional

Paiwan philosophy and value system]. In other words, being a Paiwan is to honor the Paiwan culture, abide by the Paiwan tradition, and take the future generations into consideration.

Inspired by Gaiyang’s prayers, Sakinu says this to vuvu:

我來到這裡也許是你們的安排、指引和考驗，就如父親說的，讓我來當文明與自然的詮釋者和溝通者，我需要更多來詮釋獵人生命的智慧和能力，當我膽怯、害怕時，有足夠的力量來平衡。我親愛的 vuvu（祖先）們，我是你們的 vuvu（孫子），讓我擁有你們的美麗和驕傲，因為我是排灣的孩子，我知道你們聽到我說的。88 [Perhaps it is because of your arrangement, guidance, and task for me that I am here. Or like my father says that I am here to be an interpreter and a communicator for civilization and nature. I need more [knowledge] to understand a hunter’s wisdom and ability so that I have enough strength when I am fearful. My dear vuvu (ancestors), I am your vuvu (grandchild). Let me have your beauty and pride because I am a Paiwan child, and I know you can hear me.]

Sakinu’s prayer demonstrates the lesson he has learned from Gaiyang, the hunter’s philosophy that encompasses humility, respect, and gratitude toward nature and culture. As a dutiful hunter,

Gaiyang utilizes the traditional knowledge to hunt animals and to feed his community; as a

Paiwan hunter, he follows the Paiwan culture and takes the responsibility to maintain the ecological balance in nature and for the future generations. Rather than glorifying a hunter’s skill, hunting in The Wind Walker is indeed a form of cultural practice, a dialogue with nature, and the recognition of all are related.

Conclusion

The juxtaposition of Hogan’s People of the Whale and Sakinu’s The Wind Walker demonstrates shared trans-Pacific Indigenous concern for all-my-relations in terms of hunting.

87 Sakinu, 143. My translation.

88 Sakinu, 87. My translation.

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The concept of all-my-relations is multifold: it is the intricate relationship humans with all forms of life, it signals ecological balance and sustainability, and it involves the understanding of one’s culture and tradition. To illustrate the importance of nature and culture in Indigenous cosmology,

Bevis writes, “Mother Earth is not wild. Nature is part tribe. […] Nature is not a secure seclusion one has escaped to, but is the tipi walls expanded, with more and more people chatting around the fire. Nature is filled with events, gods, spirits, chickadees, and deer acting as men. Nature is house. ”89 In other words, nature and culture are inseparable and interdependent, and to protect culture is to preserve nature, echoing the concept of all-my-relations. The crucial concept, however, is portrayed differently in Hogan’s People of the Whale and Sakinu’s The Wind

Walker. The whaling incident in Hogan’s People of the Whale demonstrates the broken treaty between the A’atsika people, whales, and ocean. Though the A’atsika people used to rely on whaling for survival, materially and spiritually, the tragic whaling depicted in People of the

Whale showcases the infringement Indigenous cultural value of all-my-relations caused by lack of respect for life, nature, and culture, resulting in loss of lives and reconsideration of cultural hunting. On the other hand, Sakinu utilizes his father who is a Paiwan hunter to exemplify the

Paiwan hunter’s philosophy that encompasses knowledge and gratitude toward nature and culture in The Wind Walker. Observing Gaiyang’s hunting knowledge and skills, Sakinu realizes that the act of hunting is to follow the Paiwan tradition-- maintaining balance among animals, natural resources, and humans. A Paiwan hunter does not take another life for personal gain; rather, he does so, with respect and gratitude, to make the collective survival possible for his communities and the future generations. Though the concept of all-my-relations is depicted with distinct approaches and perspectives; nevertheless, it represents both authors’s recognition about

89 Bevis, “Native American Novels: Homing In,” 601.

175 the intertwined relationships among all forms of life, and concern on hunting and cultural identity.

People of the Whale and The Wind Walker signal real arguments involving the

Indigenous right to hunt, cultural identity, environmentalism and government policy-making.

The Makah are one of the Native American tribes that exercise the right to hunt whales according to Treaty of Neah Bay with the United States government. The 1999 whaling controversy has caused heated debates not only within the tribe but also with other tribes and several environmental organizations. The Sea Shepherd Conservation Society, for example, strives for the protection of sea creatures and opposes whaling because the process of whaling is considered inhumane, especially when whales are highly intelligent and sentient creatures. On the other hand, Greenpeace supports Makah whaling because it is the Makah’s treaty right, and therefore both the government and the Makah have to honor the agreement. The Makah have not resumed whaling up until today; however, the tribe has expressed the desire to whale again in the near future. The fear of the loss of Indigenous rights to hunt and thus to cultural identity can be observed in the complicated process of negotiation between Taiwanese Indigenous people and the government. In 2015 Talum Suqluman, a Bunun hunter, was convicted for poaching and illegal ownership of hunting guns.90 Even though he claimed that hunting was an essential part of

90 The debates on gun ownership have happened to both Taiwanese Indigenous people and Native Americans because the issue involves policy-making, human right, and sovereignty, to name a few. The history of the use of firearms by Taiwanese Indigenous people can be traced back as early as 1710 in Zhu lo shien chi 諸羅縣誌[Record of Tsu-lo-Kuan] in which Taiwan was still referred to as Tsu-lo-Kuan, or Tsu-lo County in English, by the Qing Dynasty, and Indigenous hunters obtained firearms by trading with merchants mostly. During the Japanese Occupation (1895-1945), the Japanese government set up gun ownership ordinance, controlled the number of ammunition, and distributed ammunition to Indigenous communities. Indigenous communities had continued to use firearms until the Martial law period (1949- 19897) declared by the Kuomingtang government; as a result, it was illegal to own a firearm. Even though Tung- hong Lin, the first urban Indigenous legislator, explained that gun ownership was crucial for

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Bunun culture, and he had the right to hunt in the traditional hunting ground, the court still found

Talum Suqluman guilty of the violation of Controlling Guns, Ammunition and Knives Act (槍砲

彈藥管制條例). Upon hearing the verdict, Talum Suqluman said, “政府要我們傳承文化，又

要抓我們，很矛盾”91 [The government asks us to pass down Indigenous culture and arrests us for doing so. It’s ridiculous]. In order to find a better solution in similar trials, the Supreme Court

Indigenous lifestyle and demanded further consideration of the practice of Controlling Guns, Ammunition and Knives Act, other legislators still passed the act that deemed Indigenous gun ownership illegal in 1983. Though an amendment was made in 2001 in which Indigenous people were allowed to own firearms, the amendment was too strict for Indigenous hunter to follow. It was until 2016 that the government took Indigenous hunting culture into consideration and protected the hunting tradition in Constitution and the Indigenous Peoples Basic Law. There are still debates concerning the Indigenous gun ownership, the right of hunting, policy-making up to date. Similarly, the long history of barring Native Americans from gun ownership demonstrates discrimination against Native Americans. The Second Amendment which has been debated and defended since 1791 indicates the racist history in America. During the European colonization period, Native American hunters traded guns with furs for economic opportunities, and used guns to facilitate hunting and protect their communities. The Independence of the United States of America and the Declaration of Independence marked the drastic change of Native American life because of the impending westward expansion and negligence of treaties between England and Native Americans. The Second Amendment (1791) that granted the right to carry firearms was not applied to Native Americans because the amendment was meant to protect people from “Blood Thirsty Heathen Red Savages,” “another country or government including Native American Nations,” and “Wild Animals, including Native Americans” (J.K. Oxendine, “American Indians& The Second Amendment”). In other words, Native American were referred to as a threat to the society rather than the citizens of America in the Second Amendment. Native Americans were granted citizenship with the Indian Citizenship Act in 1924; however, the Second Amendment was not included in the legislation, along with most rights in the Bill of Rights. Laws concerning Native American gun ownership are conducted by individual Native American community. The Second Amendment, though protects people’s right to bear arms, denotes the racist history against Native Americans. See Jamie K. Oxendine, “American Indian& The Second Amendment,” (July 21, 2011), Roxanne Dunbar-Ortiz, Loaded: A Disarming History of the Second Amendment (San Francisco: Citylight, 2018).

91 Tai-cheng Lu 盧太城, “Wang guang lu zheng fu yao wo men chuan cheng wen hua you yao zhua wo men” 王光祿：政府要我們傳承文化又要抓我們 [Wang Guan-lu: The Government Asks Us to Pass Down Indigenous Culture and Arrests Us for Doing So], 中央社 Central, September 28 ,2017. My translation. Wan guan-lu is Talum Saqluman’s Han name.

177 judges demanded a stop to trials and constitutional interpretation in 2017 because they considered the existing legal code did not take Indigenous hunting rights and tradition into consideration and impeded the protection of Indigenous culture. After several hearings and debates, the Taiwan Indigenous people have been immunized from the violation of Controlling

Guns, Ammunition and Knives Act when performing traditional hunting. Indigenous hunters from several tribes agreed to maintain ecological balance so as to honor the hunting culture. The conflicting opinions from the government, tribes, and even environmental protection organizations demonstrate the ongoing complexity of contemporary Indigenous hunting rights and culture which require constant negotiation among different parties.

The concept of all-my-relations is crucial in the relationship Indigenous people have with the world and demonstrates the Traditional Ecological Knowledge (TEK) that helps researchers to understand the natural world from an Indigenous perspective. A good hunter is like an educator who learns and teaches the relationships to the animals in both practical and ethical ways. Da-wei Kuan uses “博物學家”92 [naturalists] to refer to Taiwanese Indigenous hunters because the hunters have to understand conservation of the natural environment and the biodiversity of the area. In other words, traditional Indigenous hunting is regarded by contemporary researchers as a form of TEK that provides “a more holistic view of the ecosystem,”93 as Jim Robbins argues in “Native Knowledge” in which he points out the

92 Da-wei Kuan 官大偉, “Yuan zhu min shou lie de wen hua sheng tai yi yi” 原住民狩獵的文化生態意義 [The Ethno-ecological Meaning of Aboriginal Hunting], Yuan jiao ping lun 原教評論 72 (Dec. 2016), 9. My translation.

93 Jim Robbins, “Native Knowledge: What Ecologist Are Learning from Indigenous People,” Yale Environment 360 (New Haven, April 2018). https://e360.yale.edu/features/native- knowledge-what-ecologists-are-learning-from-indigenous-people

178 advantage of including TEK in disciplines such as climate change and biodiversity. Robbins introduces two projects related to Indigenous hunting knowledge in Finland and Australia, and he finds that similarities between the Skolt Sami people of Finland and Australian aborigines include using oral stories to pass down knowledge of hunting and gathering, treating animals as kin, and the ability to adopt different perspectives. The TEK in Robbin’s observation echoes the inclusive worldview by Cajete, the hunter’s philosophy by Gaiyang, and the concept of all-my- relations in Indigenous philosophy. In other words, Indigenous hunting is more than a means of survival; it encompasses knowledge about the natural environment, ethical responsibility to the animals hunted, and humility to ancestors and spirits that allows successful hunting.

As I have shown, Trans-Pacific Dialogue about the concept of all-my-relations exhibited in People of the Whale and The Wind Walker pinpoints the significance of Indigenous philosophy that honors the connections of all life forms and values traditional hunting knowledge. Although Hogan and Sakinu approach the concept of all-my-relations differently in their depictions of hunting, both texts invite readers to reconsider the interconnection of nature, culture, and humans. Hogan warns readers of the consequences when all-my-relations is ignored, resulting in the destruction of ecology and cultural identity in People of the Whale. The sacred treaty with animals and the natural world demands human effort to uphold and honor. On the other hand, Sakinu’s The Wind Walker emphasizes the hunter’s philosophy and knowledge in maintaining ecological balance and ensuring the survival of the future generations. By honoring nature and ancestors, a Paiwan hunter carries the responsibility of being a proper communicator between nature and culture, as Cajete writes in Native Science: “That is to say, the life of the

Indigenous community is interdependent with the living communities in the surrounding natural

179 environment.”94 Hogan and Sakinu tell stories about the intercedence of nature and culture by means of the rich Indigenous hunting culture and knowledge. The recognition of all-my-relations not only makes Indigenous people survival possible but also shapes their worldview and constructs their identity.

94 Cajete, Native Science, 94.

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Chapter 5

Boats of Transmotion and Indigenous Presence in Gerald Vizenor’s Treaty Shirts and

Chien-hsiang Lin’s Kawut na Cinat’kelang (Assembling the Big Boat)

Boats as a type of transportation are usually found on inland waterways or coastal areas.

They have been constructed with various materials and shapes depending on different geographical locations and natural surroundings. For example, the ancient Egyptians constructed reed boats, Inuit used animal skins to float on water, and Okinawa people tied Oriental cattails to make canoes. Boats have served humans since the earliest times for multiple purposes such as fishing, transportation, commerce, recreation or travel. Boats bring convenience to daily life and enable people to move about and explore. Further, boats are more than watercrafts; they are the embodiment of transmotion as Gerald Vizenor conceives the term. The connotation of transmotion is manifold. Simply put, it encompasses the right of motion, memories, and cultures.

It indicates “a spirited and visionary sense of natural motion”1 which can be found in the migration of birds, the sound of streams, and the change of seasons. It creates a sense of presence over historical absence in memories and stories. The concept of transmotion is “related to the ordinary practices of survivance”2 which resist the dominant discourse of colonialism and assert

“the sovereignty of motion.”3 To demonstrate the shared Indigenous right of motion, the longtime documentarist Chien-hsiang Lin and internationally renowned Anishinaabe writer

Vizenor incorporate boats in their texts to create a Trans-Pacific Dialogue of transmotion. Boats

1 Gerald Vizenor, Native Provenance: The Betrayal of Cultural Creativity (Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 2019), 37.

2 Vizenor, 37.

3 Gerald Vizenor, Fugitive Poses: Native American Indian Scenes of Absence and Presence (Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 1998), 167.

181 are a crucial medium of transmotion in Vizenor’s novel Treaty Shirts and Lin’s documentary

Kawut na Cinat’kelang (Rowing the Big Assembled Boat).4 Baron of Patronia, the houseboat in

Treaty Shirts, carries eight exiles on Lake of the Woods between the border of the United States and Canada to demonstrate the significance of stories and the sovereignty of motion. Lin’s documentary explains the process and taboos of constructing Ipangana, the traditional tatala5 of the Tao tribe,6 while the sailing of Ipangana demonstrates the importance of ocean and sailing culture of Tao people on Ponso no Tao,7 the island they inhabit. The two texts demonstrate each author’s concern toward history, culture, and the sovereignty of motion; in other words, transmotion.

The concept of transmotion is crucial in understanding Treaty Shirts and Kawut na

Cinat’kelang because it involves aspects of history, sovereignty, tradition, and lifeways. In

Fugitive Poses, one of his philosophical critiques of Native American history, culture, and

4 The title Kawut na Cinat’kelang in the Tao language is loosely translated as Rowing the Big Assembled Boat in English by Lin. I will use the title in Tao to honor the language. In fact, cina’tkelang means a five-pair-oars tatala, which is the largest size of tatala in the Tao culture. The assembled boat shown in the documentary contains seven pairs of oars, for which the Tao people do not yet have a name. As a result, Lin uses cina’tkelang to mean an assembled boat. Lin is a Taiwanese documentarian. He has spent years on Ponso no Tao to record the Tao ceremonies, music, and hunting rituals, and he is considered one of the Taos by the tribal elders.

5 A tatala is an assembled boat in the Tao language and pin-gan-jou 拼板舟 in Taiwanese Mandarin .

6 Tao is sometimes called Yami. Torii Ryuzo, a Japanese anthropologist and ethnographer, used the term yami kami to refer to the native people on the island in late 19th century, and the name Yami was used thereafter. To honor the ancestors and language, the name of the tribe was rectified in 1998 and Tao has been used since. In this project, I use Tao to avoid the colonial connotation and to show respect to the tribe.

7 Ponso no Tao is an outlying island situated approximately forty-five miles southeast of Taiwan. Lanyu or Orchid Island is the Han name known to most Taiwanese people while Tao people call it Ponso no Tao which means Island of Tao. In this chapter, I use Ponso no Tao to honor the Tao culture and language.

182 literature, Vizenor coins the term transmotion to mean a “sense of native motion and an active presence.”8 He explains, “Native transmotion is survivance, a reciprocal use of nature, not a monotheistic, territorial sovereignty. Native stories of survivance are the creases of transmotion and sovereignty.”9 The crease of transmotion and the sense of motion and presence reiterate the power of imagination and remembrance in Native stories and memories. Vizenor’s theory of transmotion derives from his contemplation of Native presence and absence in history and culture. The tragic representation of indian signals the absence of Natives because not only is the term Indian a misnomer but the representation is oftentimes romanticized, marginalized, and victimized. For Vizenor, such false representation neglects the diversity in Native cultures and debases the active roles Native people have played in American history. Native presence, on the other hand, is “the continuance of stories”10 that overcomes the false representation of Indians with narratives of natural reasons, chance, and humor without being restricted by territories or theorized by the dominant discourse. Narratives of Native presence enact survivance and are observed in transmotion. The elusive connotation of transmotion implies both the complexity and versatility of Native stories and cultures; furthermore, the abstract explanation is Vizenor’s intention to defy the tragic representation of Native cultures and celebrate the protean Native stories and histories. Moreover, Native presence in Indigenous histories, cultures and stories affirms the Indigenous identity and promotes self-representation.

8 Vizenor, Fugitive Poses, 15

9 Vizenor, 15.

10 Gerald Vizenor, “Aesthetics of Survivance,” in Survivance: Narratives of Native Presence, ed. Gerald Vizenor (Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 2008), 1.

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Drawing on Treaty Shirts and Kawut na Cinat’kelang, I aim to convene the concept of transmotion with the two different texts, one written and another visual, because both authors center on the continuum of Indigenous histories and stories and envision a future with poetics, imagination, and a sense of presence—transmotion. Set in the year of 2034, Treaty Shirts challenges readers to reconsider sovereignty and “imaginative possibilities”11 of Native politics and governance in stories. Vizenor draws on the historical peace treaty, the Great Peace of

Montréal of 1701,12 to demonstrate settler colonists’ recognition of inherent “native cultural sovereignty,”13 which includes traditions, totemic associations, and stories. The houseboat Baron of Patronia, sailing on the interstitial Lake of Woods between Minnesota in the United States and Ontario and Manitoba in Canada, is a place where the exiles live after the Constitution of the

White Earth Nation is abrogated on October 22, 2034. By sailing in the liminal space as the water way indicates, the always-in-motion houseboat subverts the territorial boundaries and represents the right of motion intertwined with Native sovereignty. With the stories told and heard, Baron of Patronia exemplifies a sense of survivance and sovereignty in transmotion.

11 David Carlson, “Trickster Hermeneutics and Postindian Reader: Gerald Vizenor’s Constitutional Praxis,” Studies in American Indian Literature: Special Issue: Constitutional Criticism 23, no. 4 (Winter 2011), 13.

12 The Great Peace of Montréal, or La Grande paix de Montréal, was signed between New France and 1,300 delegates from 39 First Nations of North America in 1701. The representatives of the aboriginal nations negotiated and placed their clan symbols on the treaty. The peace treaty guaranteed peace for almost sixty years until the British conquest of New France in 1760. The political significance of the peace treaty lies in the recognition of Native sovereignty as well as the totemic associations of the delegates. See Gilles Harvard, The Great Peace of Montreal of 1701: French-Native Diplomacy in the 17th Century (Québec: McGill- Queen’s University Press, 2001).

13 Gerald Vizenor, “The Constitution of the White Earth Nation,” in The White Earth Nation: Ratification of a Native Democratic constitution, ed. Gerald Vizenor, Jill Doerfler (Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 2012), 63.

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Similarly, Kawut na Cinat’kelang documents not only the construction of Ipangana but also the cultural knowledge relating to the boat. The Tao tatala boats are more than tools for people to survive on the ocean; they are part of the human family and needed to be respected because they provide sailors with safety and livelihood. However, the construction of the Ipangana in Kawut na Cinat’kelang is unconventional because the never-been-built size and purpose violate Tao customs and may anger the ancestors and spirits. As a result, the Tao builders and warriors have to take rituals and stories of taboos into account so as to make Ipangana possible. After the tatala boat is built, the chosen warriors, taking an unfamiliar route, row the boat to Taiwan.14

Ipangana is not just the embodiment of the sailing culture and knowledge of the Tao; indeed, the route from Ponso no Tao to Taiwan shows both the right of motion and the presence of Tao in both the diverse Taiwan and Austronesian cultures. Sailing in the West and the East respectively, both Baron of Patronia and Ipangana transcend national and cultural boundaries and re-assert tribal sovereignty with the right of motion. Fiction and reality, written and visual: with the juxtaposition of the two Indigenous texts, the Trans-Pacific Dialogue of transmotion reflects tribal histories and epistemology, and envisions a future of Indigenous presence.

Baron of Patronia-- Stories of Survivance in Motion

Survivance entails a right of motion and intertwines with Native sovereignty and transmotion, which is the most visionary concept in Vizenor’s writings. After the Minnesota

14 The Tao tribe is a branch of the Malayo-Polynesian language family and Austronesian culture. According to oral histories, their ancestors moved to Ponso no Tao from Batanes Islands of Philippines around 800 years ago and therefore, they share similar language and customs with Batanes people. Because of the close connections with the Batanes Islanders, the traditional sailing routes and fishing grounds are between Ponso no Tao and Batanes Islands. Rarely do Tao people sail to Taiwan because Taiwan is not considered part of their traditional territory. See also “Tao,” Digital Museum of Taiwan Indigenous Peoples, http://www.dmtip.gov.tw/web/en/page/detail?nid=12

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Chippewa tribal ratification of the White Earth Nation Constitution in April 2009 which Vizenor largely crafted and approval in a popular referendum in 2013, Vizenor published the speculative novel Treaty Shirts in which he envisions a future in which sovereignty, survivance, and the emphasis on family descent are sustained by exiles in a time when the Constitution is abrogated in 2034. Treaty Shirts challenges readers to reconsider the concept of sovereignty with stories told by seven self-declared exiles from the White Earth Nation. The seven characters are

Archive, Moby Dick, Savage Love, Gichi Noodin, Hole in the Storm, Waasese, and Justice

Molly Crèche, and their nicknames are drawn from natural phenomena. Gichi Noodin means windy and Waasese means lightning in Ojibwe; Moby Dick played a white whale in a school play; Archive the narrator records stories. In each chapter, the characters tell stories about their nicknames, personal histories, and interpretation of Native sovereignty and survivance. Vizenor does not make each character’s version of political claim coherent with the others; rather, the conflicting and competing statements suggest the complexity of Native sovereignty and the

Constitution. The treaty shirts that the exiles wear every day for twenty years remind them of the

“spirits, sweat, and loyalty”15 to Native sovereignty they have fought hard for. Ironically, the treaty shirts cannot protect the exiles from “evil, corruption” and “the tradition fascists”16 in the same way the sacred powers invested in Ghost shirts worn by Lakota people could not guard against bullets. These exiles exercise Native sovereignty by living on Baron of Patronia floating between two settler nations and by telling stories reflecting the Anishinaabe philosophy and history. Rather than tragedy or nostalgia, they are stories of survivance, as Vizenor describes:

The Anishinaabe stories of empire have always been scenes of natural motion, waves and water, continuous stories of the fur trade, and that autumn when the treaty was abrogated

15 Gerald Vizenor, Treaty Shirts, (Middletown: Wesleyan University Press, 2016), 24.

16 Vizenor, 72.

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the exiles created the necessary stories of a new native nation on a houseboat with a modern charter, the Constitution of the White Earth Nation. The constitution resumes the stories of peace and continental liberty at Fort Saint Charles. The native voices of liberty and steady ironic stories were my watchwords every night on Panic Radio.17 Furthermore, the stories broadcast on Panic Radio indicate the importance of oral tradition crucial to Native cultures. Indeed, Treaty Shirts is regarded as Vizenor’s critique and contemplation of the White Earth Nation Constitution, and thus the stories of the exiles reflect new models of Native governance. His creation of Baron of Patronia, the “marvelous houseboat of survivance and native sovereignty” floating along the border, reflects the inherent freedom of motion and enhances the practice of survivance.18

The concept of transcending boundaries and being always-in-motion has been a recurrent concern of Vizenor because it creates a map with the freedom of motion in his oeuvre. The transnational settings based on Vizenor’s personal experiences such as China in Grievers (1986) and Japan in Hiroshima Bugi (2003) suggest a world in which Indigenous cultures have presence. Similarly, the always-in-motion characters in Bearheart (1978, 1990) and Hotline

Healers (1997) reject the false representation of tragic and romanticized Native Americans with the trickster discourse of humor and teasing. Vizenor utilizes the transnational settings to dismantle national boundaries, and mixedblood characters to defy the dominant discourse derived from colonialism and monotheism. Similar to Baron of Patronia, a place where mixedblood characters and tricksters live in Trickster of Liberty (1988), the boat Baron of

Patronia in Treaty Shirts, that carries the seven exiles who are descendants of Vizenor’s fictional characters from previous texts, is designed to be a safe haven for “the first political exiles”19 who

17 Vizenor, 67.

18 Vizenor, 6.

19 Vizenor, 3.

187 are banished by an evil sector governor after the Congress of the United States “substituted federal sectors for reservations”20 and denatured the White Earth Nation Constitution “by the plenary abrogation of the entente and treaties.”21 The sailing of Baron of Patronia along the Lake of the Woods between the United States of America and Canada unsettles the land-based setting; furthermore, the constant in-motion houseboat on a fluid space exemplifies that Native sovereignty is “not territorial”22but “mythic, material, and visionary.”23 Despite the fact that

Baron of Patronia is not recognized as a legal vessel in the United States of America, the

Canadian government, in honor of the Great Peace of Montréal, provides “support and sanctuary” for the exiles.24 Baron of Patronia, the always-in-motion houseboat without nationality, defying national boundaries, represents transmotion and sovereignty in Treaty Shirts.

Archive, the narrator in Treaty Shirts, says, “The abrogation of the reservation treaty, rescission of the constitution and native governance, and our exile that autumn resulted in an escape cruise on the Baron of Patronia.”25 The houseboat is more than a place where the seven exiles live; it is where “stories of the exiles, a wild and ironic account of native survivance and liberty”26 are

20 Vizenor, 5.

21 Vizenor, 5.

22 Vizenor, Fugitive Poses, 182.

23 Vizenor, 183.

24 Vizenor, Treaty Shirts, 10.

25 Vizenor, 6.

26 Vizenor, 33.

188 broadcast across the border of the U.S. and Canada so that people, tribal or not, are able to hear and enjoy the stories.

As the right of motion is a crucial component in sovereignty, the sailing of Baron of

Patronia ironically demonstrates both the need and problem of Native sovereignty. The definition of sovereignty includes the ideas of self-governing and freedom from external control.

Delineating the concept of sovereignty, David E. Wilkins points out that the social contract framework is used in understanding sovereignty in the European tradition. However, such social contract framework overlooks the fact that the world Indigenous people “possessed and lived within was a very cultural and political system based on responsibility, clans, and kinship.”27

Therefore, Native sovereignty is ironic because in the United States of America and Canada,

Native nations are regarded as domestic dependent nations with limited sovereignty.28 In other words, Native sovereignty is conditional from sources such as treaties, laws, common law principles and federal jurisdiction, which Vizenor identifies as “deceptive sovereignty.”29 To

27 David E. Wilkins, “Sovereignty, Democracy, Constitution,” in The White Earth Nation: Ratification of a Native Democratic Constitution, ed. Gerald Vizenor and Jill Doerfler (Lincoln: University of Nebraska, 2012), 4.

28 The Marshall Trilogy, a set of three Supreme Court decisions in 1823, 1831, and 1832, defined and affirmed the relationship between Native nations and the United States of America. In the case of Cherokee Nation v. Georgia (1831), the Cherokee Nation was defined as a dependent nation and the United States of America was the guardian. As a result, Native nations have been regarded as domestic dependent sovereign nations ever since. See also Edward H. Spicer, The American Indians: Dimensions of Ethnicity (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1980), and Stephen L. Pevar, The Rights of Indians and Tribes (New York: Oxford University Press, 2012). The Indigenous peoples of Canada have undergone similar debates with the colonizers (the British and the French) and settlers (the Canadian government). The Indigenous peoples of Canada, including the First Nations, Métis and Inuit, have been deprived of rights of possession and land in various treaties. See Michael D. Mason, “Canadian and United States Approaches to Indian Sovereignty,” Osgoode Hall Law Journal 21, no. 3 (October 1983): 423- 474. https://digitalcommons.osgoode.yorku.ca/ohlj/vol21/iss3/3/

29 Vizenor, Treaty Shirts, 5.

189 redefine Native sovereignty, Vizenor points out that it is important to transcend reservation territory and practice “native rights, and the recognition of those rights outside of reservations.”30As a result, Baron of Patronia becomes a safe place for the exiles to exercise the

Constitution; moreover, the houseboat realizes Vizenor’s vision of Native sovereignty because it not only expresses the significance of mobility in the definition of sovereignty but also represents

Native sovereignty with “the tribute of natural reason,”31which encompasses the ancestral voices and traces of seasons with imagination in memories and stories. Therefore, the narrative of survivance challenges, confronts, and solaces the people with stories of remembrance.

The sailing route of Baron of Patronia also suggests Native sovereignty because it honors both the places and history meaningful for the Anishinaabe. On the first cruise, Gichi Noon, the captain of Baron of Patronia, documents, “I (Gichi Noon) charted our first cruise north to

Buffalo Bay and then around Northwest Angle near Oak Island and Flag Island to the border near Bukete Island in Canada… the Baron of Patronia cruised silently on a secure course of the international border.”32 Later in the novel, Waasese, while telling his stories and sharing his creation of laser holoscenes, observes that Baron of Patronia sails on “the same lake that the voyageurs once paddled in great birch bark canoes, and the same woodland lakes that captivated

Sigurd Olson.”33 The waterway suggests the rich history of the Anishinaabe and its influence for

30 Vizenor, Fugitive Poses, 190.

31 Gerald Vizenor, “Constitutional Consent: Native Traditions and Parchment Rights,” in The White Earth Nation, ed. Gerald Vizenor, and Jill Doerfler (Lincoln: University of Nebraska, 2012), 11. See also Gerald Vizenor, Native Liberty: Natural Reason and Cultural Survivance (Lincoln: University of Nebraska, 2009).

32 Vizenor, Treaty Shirts, 69.

33 Vizenor, 95.

190 not just the Anishinaabe but also the voyageurs, the French Canadians who engaged in fur transportation in canoes during the fur trade years in the 18th and 19th centuries. It also inspired

Sigurd Olson, the American writer, environmentalist and advocate for the wilderness, to describe the beauty of nature. The area provided a livelihood for both the Natives such as the

Anishinaabe, Cree, Iroquois, Huron, and for Europeans; furthermore, as the seasonal fur trade became permanent, conflicts inside Native tribes and between the Europeans arose. In order to maintain a peaceful relationship, the Great Peace of Montréal of 1701 was made official. The peace treaty not only put an end to decades of conflicts centered around the fur trade, but also acknowledged Native sovereignty because the Native nations who signed on the peace treaty were indeed considered sovereign nations. Even though the treaty was symbolic and abstract for

Native nations, the participating delegates from the Native nations put their signatures with picture of their clans on the piece of paper to create a unique and historical document. Indeed, conflicting notions of sovereignty are so significant that Vizenor begins Treaty Shirts with a recognition of the historical significance of the Great Peace of Montréal of 1701: “The Great

Peace of Montréal became the mainstay of our visionary and catchy petition that autumn for the right of continental liberty.”34 Vizenor condemns the deceptive concept of sovereignty that restricts Native rights; the Great Peace of Montréal of 1701, on the other hand, honored Native sovereignty and maintained a peaceful relation for almost sixty years until the British conquered the New France in 1760. The thoughtfully designed sailing route of Baron of Patronia honors not only the inherent right of motion but also sovereignty demonstrated in history.

The concept of Native sovereignty, according to Vizenor, is understood through memories and stories; Panic Radio on Baron of Patronia broadcasting stories of and by the

34 Vizenor, 1.

191 exiles demonstrates the importance of oral tradition as well as the oral stories in the digital age.

The radio station, Panic Radio, is derived from the concept of panic holes in Vizenor’s previous work, Trickster of Liberty (1988), in which patriarch Luster Browne has seven panic holes on

Baron of Patronia, to listen to characters’ agony and restore the balance between the characters and the earth. Similar to the panic holes that offer a space where characters are able to release tension and frustration, Panic Radio in Treaty Shirts not only provides a safety-valve for the exiles and tribal members to share stories of various emotions, to reflect histories and to envision the future. In the discussion of how Native Americans utilize electronic media such as radio and television to promote Indigenous languages and cultures, Bruce Cornette points out that “the continuation of oral history depends on the capacity to listen. Radio helps develop this capacity.”35 The use of Panic Radio on Baron of Patronia suggests the importance of oral tradition in Native cultures, and the electronic radio makes sure that the characters have a voice and that stories are heard. The stories broadcast from Baron of Patronia function as “the unforgettable literature of our time, and [marked] the end of treaties and feigned sovereignty, and a necessary return to native stories and memories in natural motion.”36 Similar to the smoke signal, the old form of distant communication such as transmitting news or signaling danger,

Panic Radio sends the electronic smoke signals of “the getaway stories of the exile, a wild and ironic account of native survivance and liberty.”37 The stories of the digital smoke signal relay

35 Bruce L. Cornette, “Electronic Smoke Signals: Native American Radio in the United States,” Cultural Survival, June 1998. https://www.culturalsurvival.org/publications/culturalsurvival-quarterly/electronic-smoke-signals-native-american-radio-united

36 Vizenor, Treaty Shirts, 68.

37 Vizenor, 33.

192 warning messages of dire consequences for Native sovereignty after the abrogation of the

Constitution as well as narratives of survivance based on personal memories and tribal histories.

Though Treaty Shirts is episodic and lacks closure, the stories in each chapter not only show respect for Native culture but also demand reconsideration of Native American representation. The totemic animal associations, for example, play a crucial part in Vizenor’s writings, and in Treaty Shirts Vizenor uses two narrators, Justice Molly Crèche and Moby Dick, to explain the concept. According to Archive, Justice Molly Crèche is the only jurist who honors the animals killed in the fur trade, and her love for animals reveals the origin of her nickname which she received because she placed a miniature totemic crèche of animals, birds, bears, bats, and spiders, at the entrance to the tribal court one winter. In addition to the animals killed for the commercial fur trade, she demands respect for animals “abused, poisoned, and terminated by humans, institutions, and corporations.”38 However, the tradition essentialists only believe in static traditions and cultures, and thus become essentialists, are livid because they think that

Justice Molly Crèche disrespects the sacred totems by including other less sacred animals in the totemic association. Responding to the fascists’ anger, Justice Molly Crèche’s declaration that

“Totemic associations, animals, birds, and spiders, have always been represented with an evocative presence or legal standing in my court”39 demonstrates the need for respectful relationships between humans and other beings, and honors animals, live or dead, as her relations.

Similar to Justice Molly Crèche’s calling for respect for all forms of life, Moby Dick, who earns the nickname because of his theatrical performance of Moby Dick as a child, observes

38 Vizenor, 105.

39 Vizenor, 105

193 that people, even Natives, tend to relate to totemic creatures such as bears, wolves, cranes or eagles, but never to deformed fish. As a result, he decides to rescue and take care of these fish until the new sector governor unplugs the electricity and kills the fish because these fish are unpresentable and valueless. Contemplating the animals sacrificed during the fur trade and the recent killing of his deformed fish, Moby Dick says, “My totems were terminated that night, three centuries after the beaver and other animals were slaughtered in the empire of fur trade. My totem of crippled aquarium fish had no value in any trade, but the sector governor used his new power to execute the explorers.”40 Both Moby Dick and Justice Molly Crèche try to reconnect the relationship between humans and animals through memories of the murdered animals. Their emphasis on “totemic association” reminds people of the history of fur trade, and by treating animals as a significant part of kinship in the Native culture echoes nindinawemaganidog, all my relations, in Anishinaabe philosophy.

In contrast to the stories of survivance, Vizenor explains the concept of terminal creeds with stories of what he calls tradition fascists whose firm belief in false representation has reduced rich Native cultures to mere simulation in the dominant discourse. In his Manifest

Manners, Vizenor explains terminal creeds with the representation of indian— a romanticized simulation of the invented Indian—a term which Vizenor considers “a colonial enactment,”41 a misnomer imposed by Columbus when he claimed that he discovered America. Continuing his criticism of terminal creeds, Vizenor expresses his aversion to the tradition fascists in Treaty

Shirts with Rosemary Ogichidaa’s story who becomes her own victim of terminal creeds. Dr

40 Vizenor, 42.

41 Vizenor, Manifest Manners: Narratives on Postindian Survivance (Lincoln: Bison Books, 1999), 11.

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Ogichidaa, the honorific title she demands, teaches Native traditions and epistemology but claims “Natives were never ironic, never, and irony was never our tradition.”42 As Ogichidaa means warrior in Ojibwe, Ogichidaa, headstrong and arrogant, clings to the “obsessions of selective elders43” but refuses to acknowledge the concept of survivance as well as the totemic association in Native cultures. When Gichi Noodin challenges Ogichidaa on ideas such as continental liberty and Native sovereignty, Ogichidaa is unable to answer, and “waved her hands to stop the interview,”44 resulting in Gichi Noodin calling her “a pretender of concocted traditions.”45 Unfortunately, Ogichidaa fails to subvert colonialist impositions of the static representation of Native cultures. As a result, she is subdued by the tragic victimry of indian representations that suggests absence and denial of survivance. The stories of Native presence and victimry demonstrate the complexity of Native culture, challenge the monolithic and problematic representations of Natives, and promote Native survivance and transmotion.

Baron of Patronia is the embodiment of transmotion because it not only reinforces the stories of the right of motion and survivance but also demonstrates cultural sovereignty by presenting the tenet of mino-bimaadiziwin—to live a good life—that is significant in

Anishinaabe culture. Anthropologist Lawrence Gross explains,

In any case, an examination of traditional Anishinaabe religion reveals bimaadiziwin served as the underlying theme of almost the entirety of the religious life of the people. In the modern age, bimaadiziwin is helping the Anishinaabeg to reconstruct their worlds in the postapocalyptic period. Of course, the old world of the Anishinaabeg can never be recovered in full. However, concepts such as bimaadiziwin allow for continuity from the

42 Vizenor, Treaty Shirts, 63.

43 Vizenor, 63.

44 Vizenor, 65.

45 Vizenor, 63.

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old world into the new. Even though the surface phenomena may have changed, the core essence of the Anishinaabe worldview survives in the teaching of bimaadiziwin.46 In other words, bimaadiziwin is the guideline of life for individuals and communities, a form of

Indigenous methodology that defies the dominant discourse of colonialism, and is for the

Anishinaabeg “a fundamental purpose of nationhood.”47 Boarding Baron of Patronia and sailing along the international border of Lake of the Woods, the exiles exclaim, “Our totemic associations and heartfelt observance of natural motion were clearly a philosophy of bimaadiziwin.”48 From birth to death, past to present, and humans to animals and the surroundings, bimaadiziwin is taught and continued in both oral and written forms, including myths, ceremonies, and history.

Native sovereignty and cultural sovereignty carried out by Baron of Patronia are both philosophical and political because the houseboat is where the exiles honor and live by the White

Earth Nation Constitution. The captain Gichi Noodin says, “The constitution is more active in exile that it was bound to the territory of a federal treaty, so, our exile made perfect sense, a constitution of new continental liberty.”49 By including the concept of bimaadiziwin in Treaty

Shirts and the White Earth Nation Constitution, Vizenor reminds people of the Anishinaabe

46 Lawrence Gross, Anishinaabe Ways of Knowing and Being (New York: Routledge, 2016), 206.

47 Gerald Vizenor, and James Mackay, “Constitutional Narratives: A Conversation with Gerald Vizenor,” in Centering Anishinaabeg Studies: Understanding the World through Stories, ed. Jill doerfler, Niigaanwewidam James Sinclair, and Heidi Kiiwetinepinesiik Stark (East Lansing: Michigan State University Press, and Winnipeg: University of Manitoba Press, 2013), 135.

48 Vizenor, Treaty Shirts, 30.

49 Vizenor, 13.

196 philosophy and Native sovereignty and demonstrates that Anishinaabe philosophy is inseparable from life, as stated in the Preamble of the constitution:

The Anishinaabeg of the White Earth Nation are the successors of a great tradition of continental liberty, a native constitution of families, totemic associations. The Anishinaabeg create stories of natural reason, of courage, loyalty, humor, spiritual inspiration, survivance, reciprocal altruism, and native cultural sovereignty. We the Anishinaabeg of the White Earth Nation in order to secure an inherent and essential sovereignty, to promote traditions of liberty, justice, and peace, and reserve common resources, and to ensure the inalienable rights of native governance for our posterity, do constitute, ordain, and establish this Constitution of the White Earth Nation.50 The poetic language in the Constitution resonates the concept of transmotion and survivance demonstrates Native presence and “a continuous sense of visionary sovereignty.”51 The always- in-motion Baron of Patronia demonstrates the right to freedom of travel across territorial and political boundaries. Further, it represents transmotion—“the practice of transmitting tribal cultural practices across time as well as spaces of travel and trade.”52 Treaty Shirts closes with the exiles, along with other natives of “pontoon boats, houseboats, sailboats, cabin cruisers, fishing boats, and decorated canoes”53 circling Baron of Patronia while people and animals sing and chant the White Earth Anthem which is “a new story of creation in natural motion.”54 Baron

50 Vizenor, The White Earth Nation, 63.

51 Vizenor, Manifest Manners, ix.

52 Deborah Madsen, “The Sovereignty of Transmotion in a State of Exception: Lessons from the Internment of ‘Praying Indians’ on Deer Island, Massachusetts Bay Colony,” Transmotion 1, no. 1 (2015), 23-24.

53 Vizenor, Treaty Shirts, 119.

54 Vizenor, 119.

197 of Patronia is the embodiment of Native sovereignty and Anishinaabe philosophy of mino- bimaadiziwin crucial in reading Treaty Shirts.

The Embodiment of Cultural Sovereignty and Survivance of Ipangana

The ocean plays an important role in Tao culture. According to one of the Tao creation stories, a chest full of people created by deities was washed to the shore of an island. These people stayed on the island and they called it Ponso no Tao, the island of people. They learned to fish, weave, and build boats from the mysterious Cave People, and they were told to eat flying fish to stay healthy. Therefore, the Tao people have lived the traditional way ever since, and

Ponso no Tao is known for its fishing culture and tatalas. To strengthen the oceanic culture of the Tao tribe, Syaman Rapongan, the most famous Tao writer, describes the significance of ocean with his keen observation:

回家後的第一年，我經常坐在七十來歲的父親以及正在等待夕陽落海後搖獎夜航捕魚的族人後邊，沙礫上所有男人的肉體貼在自製的船周邊，眼神動也不動地看著一波又一波的浪宣洩在船前。我逐漸意識到，部落裡「原始」的族人以及自製的船洲，還有眼前的海是如此地貼近 […] 我斜眼注視的父親的胳膊、二頭肌，以及老人家們長年航海時雙眼所散發對海洋的謙卑，出了萌生敬意外，我偷偷地掐著自己軟綿綿的手臂，自慚形穢的感覺立刻結實地雕刻在我一直吸吮漢人奶水的胸膛裡。從我們的祖先就一直流傳的話說：「沒有船的男人是次等的男人，是廢物。」55 [During the first year of my returning home, I often sat behind my seventy-something-old father and other men who were waiting to paddle to the ocean to fish after the night fell. All the men stood so close to the handmade tatalas on the beach, staring at the ocean as waves hit the tatalas. I began to realize the connectedness among these so-called primitive men, their tatalas, and the vast ocean in front of me… Peeping at my father’s strong shoulders and biceps, and humility in the eyes when facing the ocean, I felt embarrassed for my lack of chiseled muscles because I have suckled Han people’s milk. There is a saying passed down from the ancestors, “Those men who are without tatalas are not the real men; they are useless.]

55 Syaman Rapongan 夏曼•藍波安, Hai lang de ji yi 海浪的記憶 [The Memory of the Waves] (Taipei: UDN Group, 2002): 218-219. My translation.

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After years of re-learning fishing, diving, and making tatalas, Syaman Rapongan reflects on his works as “文學是海洋的” 56 [the writing of the ocean] which is the “是潛水環境文學，魚類說

話的文學，造船划船的文學”57 [literature of diving environment, literature of the language of fish, literature of making and rowing tatalas]. Echoing Syaman Rapongan’s literature of the ocean, activist Syaman Vengayen considers Ponso no Tao “海洋國度”58 [a nation of ocean] which reiterates the close relationship the Tao people have shared with the ocean, ocean life, and tatalas

To sail on the ocean and to catch flying fish, the Tao use handcrafted tatalas which are the most traditional and unique fishing boats because they embody environmental knowledge and culture. The construction of a tatala boat requires meticulous steps, including choosing the suitable local trees, assembling the boat with the right numbers of wooden pieces, painting the boat with the assigned colors and patterns during the right months, and proper ceremonies to both honor ancestors and scare away evil spirits.59 There are strict rules for constructing a tatala.

Tao people use approximate nine types of native trees and plants on Ponso no Tao to build tatalas. Each tatala, depending on the different sizes, is assembled with exactly fifteen,

56 Syaman Rapongan 夏曼•藍波安, Mata nu Wawa 大海之眼 [The Eyes of the Ocean] (Taipei: Ink, 2019): 258. My translation.

57 Syaman Rapongan, 258. My translation.

58 Kawut na Cinat’kelang: Rowing the Big Assembled Boat, directed by Chien-hsiang Lin,林建享 (Taipei: Together Studio, 2009), 13:12. My translation.

59 Just like the scrupulous process of building a tatala, the construction of an Anishinaabe birchbark canoe requires careful preparation of materials and punctilious steps. See Larry McDermott, “Anishinaabe Knowledge and the Building of a Birchbark Canoe,” Landscape of Nations 360º: Indigenous Education Initiative. https://empathictraditions.ca/pdf/building-of-a- birchbark-canoe.pdf

199 seventeen or twenty-one pieces. The assigned colors are white, red, and black and they are made of burned seashells, the earth, and coal. The process of making the white paint is very specific.

The burning of the seashells takes place only in the month of Kaneman, which usually falls in

June after the Flying Fish ceremony. Females are not allowed to participate or watch the burning.

The different patterns on each tatala signify different families. Animal sacrifice, usually pigs and chickens, are performed before and after Mangegen, the Launching ceremony of a tatala. Each step is necessary and is treated seriously and respectfully. It takes almost two years to build a tatala. The main purpose of a tatala is to catch fish, especially flying fish. So fishers have to show their respect to the tatala with proper behavior such as treating each other with proper manners and showing a positive attitude. Any negative comment will anger the spirit of the tatala, and any misstep would bring misfortune to individuals, families, and even a tribe.

Therefore, building a tatala is momentous and sacred because the process encompasses the Tao worldview and epistemology. In order for Taiwanese people to understand the indigenous tatala tradition, the National Museum of Natural Science in Taichung invited Tao people to build a tatala for the museum display and asked Lin to document the process for a special exhibition of

“Understanding the Austronesian” in 2001. The Tao builders brought all the materials required to build a tatala to Taiwan and demonstrated the long process of making a boat in front of the museum. The display was a huge success because it showed Taiwanese people the uniqueness and vitality of the Tao culture. After the tatala was built, Syaman Vengayen’s father asked, “船

都蓋好了為什麼不划呢?”60 [The boat is ready but why don’t you row the boat?] The question struck Lin and Syaman Vengayen, and therefore, they decided to realize the dream of the elder by making Ipangana --“from here to there and further ahead” in Tao language-- and rowing it to

60 Kawut na Cinat’kelang, 9:08-9:19. My translation.

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Taiwan, marking the collaboration between the Tao and Taiwanese. Furthermore, they decided to record the process of making Ipangana in the documentary, Kawut na Cinat’kelang, so that

Taiwanese people, Indigenous or not, are provided an opportunity to understand the interconnectedness of ocean and people in the Tao culture.

As an audiovisual narrative, Kawut na Cinat’kelang details the process of making

Ipangana, performing proper ceremonies, holding tribal councils and interviews, and eventually rowing Ipangana to Taiwan. Lin documents the process carefully by emphasizing the interactions among the tribal members while maintaining objectivity by limiting his own narration. The documentary is mainly in color except for the scenes of the previous construction of the tatala for the museum display in 2001, for which Lin used black-and-white to differentiate from the project of building Ipangana. In the documentary, Lin follows the tribal members to the woods and into various households to record crucial moments with long shots to lessen the possible interference with the tribal activities. Besides the careful portrayal of the activities, medium shots are used during the interviews with Syaman Vengayen and tribal elders. While close-ups are observed when demonstrating the traditional handicrafts of Ipangana, the sailing of

Ipangana is shown in super long shot to create a sense of grandeur of the ocean as well as the

Tao people’s determination to accomplish the task. Various languages, spoken and in subtitle, are used in the documentary because of different target audience. For example, Syaman

Vengayen explains the background knowledge such as the ecological balance, taboos, and respect for the ancestors when building a tatala in Mandarin Chinese because his purpose is to provide information for non-Tao people. Similarly, tribal elders who participate in the activities speak in Tao because their intention is to show how they perform ceremonies and reach agreement during tribal councils for the younger Tao generation. Besides the conversation and

201 prayers among the tribal elders, the traditional Tao songs function as the background music so audience could hear them. The subtitles in the documentary include both Mandarin Chinese and

English because Kawut na Cinat’kelang is one of the documentaries selected for the 2009

Taiwan International Ethnographic Film Festival (TIEFF); as a result, the bilingual subtitles are designed for international viewers to understand the context. The careful explanation of the Tao tradition and depiction of building Ipagana in Kawut na Cinat’kelang provide audience,

Indigenous or not, the richness of the Tao culture and the close relationship shared between the ocean and the Tao people.

The project of cooperation is necessary for people on both islands, Taiwan and Ponso no

Tao, and it functions as a platform for potential dialogue and cultural diversity. Due to the lack of proper education and understanding, most Taiwanese people have negative stereotypes about the Tao: that they live a primitive lifestyle, they speak with accents, and the men dance in loincloths and women shaking long hair. When visiting Ponso no Tao, some travelers do not understand the cultural significance of tatalas so they touch the boats or even climb into them without permission.61 Tatalas for visitors are like an exotic prop; however, the boats are in fact a

“生命共同體62 [part of a Tao’s own life]. On the other hand, the traditional Tao farming and fishing lifestyle has been influenced by the introduction of capitalism, resulting in people leaving the island and working elsewhere. Fewer and fewer people participated in the boat making or the

61 The most recent controversy took place in the summer of 2019 when several female travelers wearing bikinis were leaning against a tatala. The Taos have very strict rules about gender and work. For example, during the Flying Fish ceremony, females are not allowed to be close to the beach or tatalas. The lack of respect for the Tao culture of the travelers suggests room for improvement for education and awareness of cultural diversity in Taiwan.

62 Kawut na Cinat’kelang, 8:42-8:45. My translation.

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Flying Fish ceremonies. Syaman Rapongna shows his worry about the possible dwindling culture:

蘭嶼島的達悟族也如同其他世界各地的原住民族一樣，深受全球化的影響。對於接受現代化教室教育的晚輩而言，在長期脫離原來傳統教育的薰陶下，以及沒有親自參與目睹感受建造大船辛勞的過程，對船主雨下水儀式，自然在內心裡頭就不存在神聖的敬畏行為，疏遠於傳統價值觀的思維是全球化後出民民族社會普遍的現象。 63 [The Tao tribe on Ponso no Tao, along with other Indigenous peoples around the world, are deeply influenced by globalization. The younger generations who receive modern education are distant from the traditional knowledge [provided by the tribe]. Without participating the making of a boat, the ceremonies for launching the boat, the younger generations gradually lack the respect for the sacred process or for the spirits. Unfortunately, being away from the traditional values becomes a shared problem among Indigenous peoples.]

As a result, the project of Ipangana becomes a timely chance to correct the negative stereotypes and to promote the Tao culture. “(我們的目標是要教育台灣的漢人，不同生活空間有不同的

生活方式。達悟族仍維持傳統拼板舟文化，並透過划船來達到傳遞不同文化的對話空

間”64 [The purpose is to educate Han people in Taiwan that we all live in different ways in different places. The Tao people have strived to maintain the traditional tatala culture and we still do. By making the boat and rowing it to Taiwan, we want to create a space for a productive cultural conversation between Taiwanese and the Tao people]. The productive conversation, according to Syaman Vengayen, is enlightening for Taiwanese people, and more importantly, it re-introduces and re-glorifies the tatala culture of the Tao. In other words, the project helps to strengthen the presence of the Tao culture.

Despite the good intentions to demonstrate the Tao tatala culture, the construction of

Ipangana is so unconventional that the tribal elders fear that the making of the boat may violate a

63 Syaman Rapongna, The Memory of the Wave, 91. My translation.

64 Kawut na Cinat’kelang, 11:31-12:25. My translation.

203 lot of makayaon (taboos) which will summon death. For example, the ownership of Ipangana does not belong to any Tao family but a Taiwanese, which is unheard of. The main purpose of

Ipangana is for demonstration of the traditional sailing skills rather than fishing, and the idea confuses tribal elders because they cannot imagine building a boat and not using it properly.

Furthermore, the traditional size of a tatala is “five pairs of oars” but Ipangana is the size of seven pairs of oars. The Tao measure the sizes of tatalas by the number of oars on a boat. Ten rowers are needed for a five-paired-oar tatala, which is considered the most common and traditional size of a boat.

The never-been-built-before size of Ipangana is considered the most serious violation of makayaon. As a result, tribal elders disagreed with making Ipangana for fear of misfortune, and in the worst case, death. The elders hesitated because they had never encountered situations like this. Observing tribal elders’ fear of bad omens and Lin’s persistence of building Ipangana, activist Syaman Vengayen’s father provided a suggestion which made the project possible. He told them that since Ipangana belonged to Lin, who is not a Taiwanese and the purpose was for commercial use, the strict rules of building a tatala did not apply to Ipangana. Therefore, the bad luck would not befall to the Tao, and the evil spirits would not haunt the builders and rowers. “台

灣沒有我們的鬼” [There are no anitu in Taiwan], he said, because “鬼管不到台灣來”65 [anitu do not have jurisdiction in Taiwan]. Because the Tao evil spirits are confined in the areas near

Ponso no Tao, the sailing of Ipangana to Taiwan would rid them of the violation of makayaon.

Such a sharp-witted explanation lessened the tribal elders’ worry and all the tribal members agreed to modify the strict rules for Ipangana. Eventually, Lin, Syaman Vengayen and several

65 Kawut na Cinat’kelang, 19:50. My translation. Anitu means ghosts and evil spirits.

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Taos started the construction of Ipangana in 2006 and planned the never-been-sailed route in

Tao history.

The effort to escape from makayaon demonstrates respect for the culture and a sense of survivance because the Tao people are able control the narrative of the tradition. The Tao people do not defy the cultural rules; in order to build Ipangana, they try to find loopholes to get rid of the possible punishment from ancestors and spirits. Rather than serving for fishing purpose,

Ipangana is considered a display for tourists, and so to upsize the boat from five-paired-oars to seven-paired-oarss is acceptable. As Ipangana is constructed for Taiwanese people and it is owned by a Taiwanese, the real master is the Taiwanese, not the Tao people. “If there would be any forms of punishment, Taiwanese people are the ones to blame; not the Tao people,” Syaman

Vengayen explained to a Japanese reporter smilingly.66 This justification signifies the importance of abiding by the rules in the Tao culture; it also implies a silent protest against all forms of injustice the Taiwanese and the government have done to the Tao people. Ever since the

Kuomingtan government took over Taiwan and its outlying islands,67 Ponso no Tao has become a place for confining felons and paroled soldiers. The Kuomingtan government also urged tourism without reaching a consensus with the Tao people. As a result, more and more strangers came to the island and deprived the original inhabitants of resources and space. Worst of all, the

Atomic Energy Council decided, without consent again, to store nuclear waste on the island in

1982. To this day, the Tao people have protested against the storage of nuclear waste and other forms of environmental injustice. Therefore, Syaman Vengayen’s humorous response of blaming

66 Kawut na Cinat’kelang, 24:13- 24:58. My translation.

67 There are one hundred and sixty-five outlying islands that belong to Taiwan. While some are inhabitable with industrial or militant purposes, others are pristine without human population.

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Taiwanese actually indicates that the Tao people are tired of sacrificing their lives, land, and ocean for Taiwanese. Moreover, the clever reaction demonstrates the Tao people’s resistance to becoming victims as well as their determination to be in control of their narratives.

Similarly, performing the required rituals indicates a sense of survivance, for these rites show respect and continuance of the Tao tradition and a sense of humor in prayers. Despite the fact that Ipangana does not belong to the tribe, the Tao people still perform the required rituals during and after the building of Ipangana. For example, they communicated with the ancestors and spirits before cutting down the trees. They painted Ipaagana with the right colors and proper shapes. When the tatala was completed, the whole tribe, following tradition, shared locally grown taro and pork from sacrificial offerings. The sacrificial offerings demonstrate the natural resources significant to the Tao people as well as the reciprocal connections between humans and the ancestors. For example, a taro, besides being the main dish, plays a crucial part in almost every ritual and ceremony. It is used in the launching ceremony of a tatala: females would work together to harvest taros and fill a new boat with taros during the ceremony, symbolizing the desired abundance of fish catches. The sacrificial animals are used to communicate with the ancestors, maintain the balance of order, and lessen the possibility of violation of makayaon. As the careful practices of rituals honor the continuance of the culture, the prayers the elders for building Ipangana show a sense of survivance. The elders’ prayers, though in Tao English, are for the Tao ancestors and the Christian God.68 The prayer to the Tao ancestors explains that the

68 Christianity was introduced to Ponso no Tao in the 1950s. Priest Hsien-chun Luo, who visited Ponso no Tao, was the first to preach the gospel on the island; as a result, more and more Tao people have converted to Presbyterianism and Catholicism. Both churches have helped Tao people with providing daily necessities, frequent visits to the elderly, and holding weekly bible reading groups. Observing the Tao people’s respect to the ancestors, Presbyterian and Catholic churches have adapted to the Tao traditional belief system. Furthermore, the custom of sharing food and helping the ill and the weak echoes the lesson—thou shalt love thy neighbor as

206 ownership of Ipangana belongs to Taiwanese and that the builders and warriors should be free of the possible punishment. Similarly, another prayer to Jesus expresses their gratitude for allowing everyone to work together to accomplish the mission of building Ipangana, the forbidden assembled boat peacefully. The syncretism of two different belief systems coexists and works together to provide a sense of safety and protection for the Tao people. As a chicken is sacrificed for the purpose of good fortune with its blood smeared on the keel and hull of the tatala, the tribal elder explains that the purpose of making the tatala is for Taiwanese to learn the culture and that the animal sacrifice is a precaution against disturbed balance. By telling the ancestors that “開船的不是我們的人”69 [the one who steers the boat is not one of us] so the Tao should be free from any form of punishment, the elder overturns the fear and creates a sense of continuance and presence with moments of comic relief. Vizenor writes, “survivance is a practice”70 that creates “a sense of presence and situational sentiments of chance.”71 The elder’s prayer signals the continuum of the tradition; moreover, by controlling the narrative, the elder creates a sense of presence and cultural sovereignty.

The practice of transmotion-as-survivance is best illustrated by rowing Ipangana from

Ponso no Tao to Taitung, one of the major cities on eastern Taiwan, for it involves the collaboration of different parties such as individuals, tribes, and government agencies, and the rowing suggests the right of motion. Rowing Ipangana with only the oars is both exciting and

thyself—in the Bible. As the majority of the Tao people are converted to Christianity, the prayers in various ceremonies are for both the Tao ancestors and the Christian God.

69 Kawut na Cinat’kelang, 27:28-28:04. My translation.

70 Vizenor, “Aesthetics of Survivance,” 11.

71 Vizenor, 11.

207 exhausting. Both Taiwanese and Tao warriors practice rowing and decide the suitable routes, weather, and time to embark on the journey. Even though Ipangana does not belong to the Tao tribe, to consider the significant tatala as ours indicates a sense of community beyond tribal affiliation. The excitement to see Ipangana is so overwhelming that the tribal elders are both thrilled and scared. Thrilled because “船有生命，跟我們一樣有生命”72 [the boat is instilled with life. It has a life just like us]. Scared because they still wonder if they have violated makayaon. As a result, the tribal elders keep praising how majestic Ipangana is; furthermore, they continue reminding the tatala that good weather and omens are needed for the safe journey.

They say, “雖然你是用台灣的金錢換取製造的，希望你還是要好好的航行”73 [Even though you’re made to exchange money from Taiwan, but still, we have to keep rowing and you have to do your job to let us row]. In order for Ipangana to sail successfully to Taiwan, Syaman

Vengayen and Lin had to acquire government permission. Ironically, a tatala is not a fishing boat and does not have a proper license. Because it is made of wood, it is considered by government agencies a giant driftwood. However, as more and more people were involved in the project, the responsible government agencies sent the Coast Guard to help navigate and clear the route. Other fishing boats in that area voluntarily helped deliver food, water and first aid to the warriors. They cheered the warriors by shouting “ 你們是所有原住民的驕傲”74 [You’re the pride of all the Indigenous people in Taiwan]. Kawut na Cinat’kelang trutully documents the

72 Kawut na Cinat’kelang, 30:03-30:06. My translation.

73 Kawut na Cinat’kelang, 43:03-43:10. My translation.

74 Chien-hsiang Lin 林建享, “Hang xing liu” 航行 6 [Sailing 6], Keep Rowing, July 19, 2007. My translation. http://keeprowing.blogspot.com/search/label/%E8%88%AA%E8%A1%8C

208 first lap from Ponso no Tao to Taitung City where Ipangana was scheduled to be exhibited in the

National Musuem of Prehistory in the very end of the documentary. The second lap was from

Taitung City to Yilan City on the northern west tip of Taiwan where the National Center for

Traditional Arts would hold a special exhibition. The last lap was from Yilan City, passing

Keelung Port, to Taipei City where the National Taiwan Museum would receive Ipangana and the warriors. Even though Kawut na Cinat’kelang does not include the rest laps, the Tao warriors still continued to row the big assembled boat and have encouraged Indigenous and non-

Indigenous people to participate in the Tao activities.75 Indeed, rowing Ipangana and introducing it to the society is the moment of transmotion-- cultural practice and presence.

Ipangana’s arrival in Taiwan repositions Ponso no Tao in relation to Taiwan because the never-been-sailed route rewrites Tao history by claiming Taiwan symbolically. When Ipangana arrives the beach of Taitung during the first lap, groups of Taiwanese and Indigenous people76 welcome the tatala and warriors profusely. They help to carry the tatala so that it could rest along with the warriors. Syaman Vengayen is so exhilarated to be able to row Ipangana to

Taiwan that he exclaims, “我非常開心今天可以佔領台灣，這是這幾百年不曾發生過的”77 [I feel thrilled to occupy the land of Taiwan which has never happened for the past three, four hundred years]. Syaman Vengayen’s moving statement indicates the oppressions the Tao people have experienced and suffered from the Qing Dynasty, Japanese Occupation and finally the

75 Cheng-sheng Lin 林正盛, another documentary director in Taiwan who also took part in the making of Kawut na Cinat’kelang, made another documentary 海洋練習曲 [My Ocean] in 2008 in which Lin weaves the life stories of Syaman Rapongan and Syaman Vengayen into the journey of Ipangana. 76 The Indigenous people they encountered are mostly Amis.

77 Kawut na Cinat’kelang, 54:23- 54:25. My translation.

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Taiwan government. Turning the table around, Syaman Vengayen and the warriors occupy

Taiwan with Ipangana to express cultural sovereignty and presence as well as the respect for the diversity rather than with exploitation and injustice.

實踐造舟、航海划到台灣的過程，種種關於達悟海洋文化的內涵，除了可見豐富具體的達悟族人生活行為模式之外，也將碰觸到達悟民族的海洋文化中，最深沉的禁忌與規約的運作體系。面對古典的文化制約與現代性的衝擊，族人在這樣的計畫操作與航海的旅程中，會如何看待、思考、調適與認知？這是一個一半傳統，一半現代，一半台灣，一半蘭嶼的議題，也是一個古典與現代，生活與信仰互相滲透互相融合的文化案例。他不只是族人對過去造舟公益、航海知識能力、毅力與勇氣的在試煉，也是族人以文化主體意識的表現來航向未來的啟程。78 Making a tatala and rowing it to Taiwan demonstrates the rich culture and lifestyle of the Tao people. The project also touches upon the issues concerning makayaon in the Tao culture. How the Tao people consider, recognize or even solve the conflict between tradition and modernity is significant because the project is a combination of halves— half Tao and half Taiwan, half modern and half tradition, and half life and half belief. It also represents the interconnection between lifestyle and belief. Building a tatala requires traditional knowledge, skills, practice, and courage. It is the embodiment of cultural sovereignty and the future of the Tao.

Indeed, to appreciate the Tao culture is to understand the diverse cultures in Taiwan. As a Tao elder says, “我珍貴的船有數千目光注視”79 [My precious assembled boat sat there as thousands looked on]. Ipangana plays a crucial role in showing the Taiwanese the unique Tao culture and telling the Tao people a story of continuance and survivance.

The Tao tatalas as the embodiment of cultural sovereignty encompass learning and living in the Austronesian tradition and oceanic epistemology, which is vastly different from the land- based and agricultural cultures in Taiwan. The ocean in between Taiwan and Ponso no Tao no longer separates the two places; rather, Ipangana connects the two islands with collaboration,

78 Lin, “Keep Rowing,” Keep Rowing, April 6, 2007. My translation. http://keeprowing.blogspot.com/search/label/keep%20rowing%EF%BC%8C%E7%B9%BC%E7 %BA%8C%E5%88%92%E3%80%82 79 Kawut na Cinat’kelang, 52:17- 52:19. My translation.

210 understanding, and respect. The construction of Ipangana unites the Tao people so that the knowledge and stories are able to be transmitted to the next generation. Most of the warriors who participate in the project have lived different lifestyles in Taiwan and Ponso no Tao so they acknowledge the conflict of tradition and modernity. Ipangana provides them with an opportunity to reconnect with the traditional oceanic lifestyle. Moreover, it also inspires the younger generation to honor the Tao culture and to respect the environment that makes Ponso no

Tao special and precious. As an elder exclaims, “當拼板舟航行於海洋，他耀眼如彗星”80

[When the assembled boat you carved puts into the sea, it will streak like a comet]. Ipangana indeed embodies the diverse natural surroundings, traditional knowledge, cultural sovereignty, and stories of continuance of the Tao. It is a practice of survivance and transmotion.

Conclusion

The juxtaposition of Vizenor’s Treaty Shirts and Lin’s Kawut na Cinat’kelang shows the shared concerns of Indigenous sovereignty and the necessity for Indigenous presence in society and the world. The concept of transmotion—the sovereign right of motion—points to a crucial issue of Indigenous identity and belonging. Different from the pursuit of individual success in the Western tradition, William Bevis argues that tribal identity is more than individual accomplishment, but encompasses components such as “society, past, and place.”81 In other words, the search for tribal identity is to understand the past and to find a sense of community and belonging. Therefore, the sense of home in both texts is not a specific place; rather, it is the

Indigenous identity that is understood through the interactions among community, history, and

80 Kawut na Cinat’kelang, 22:24- 22:25. My translation.

81 William Bevis, “Native American Novels: Homing In,” in Recovering the Word: Essays on Native American Literature, ed. Arnold Krupat, and Brian Swann (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1987): 586.

211 place. The three components not only construct Indigenous identity but also create a sense of belonging that is protected and governed by Indigenous people. Treaty Shirts is, without a doubt, a complicated and condensed work because the stories of contradictions and irony express the complexity of history as well as different perspectives concerning Native sovereignty. The exiles in Treaty Shirts board the Baron of Patronia and make the houseboat a safe haven for them to exercise Native liberty and the White Earth constitution. Baron of Patronia, as the embodiment of transmotion, reiterates the sovereign right of motion honored in the 1701 peace treaty. Lin’s documentary Kawut na Cinat’kelang describes the tatala’s cultural significance for the Tao people. The process of building Ipangana represents people’s respect for the traditions and fear for makayaon. Moreover, it expresses the relationship the Tao people have had with ocean and their natural surroundings. The historical significance of Ipangana to Taiwan lies in its size, purpose, and sailing route. The Tao people control the narrative by showing respect to the culture while helping with the construction of Ipangana. The collaboration of the Tao people and the

Taiwanese envisions a future in which the influence of Indigenous presence is observed in the

Taiwan society. The presence of transmotion as a motif in both texts demonstrates each author’s concerns and visions about cultural sovereignty and survivance.

It is imperative to know the events that inspire the works of Treaty Shirts and Kawut na

Cinat’kelang, one fictional and one documented, because the events connote the political and cultural issues significant to both the Chippewa and the Tao. Before the birth of the White Earth

Nation Constitution, the Chippewa Constitution had been applied to the White Earth Nation along with other five reservations, without regard for the size and the distinct culture of each reservation. Therefore, creating a new White Earth Nation Constitution marks a milestone for

Native governance and sovereignty. It took more than ten years of meetings and discussions until

212 the constitution was approved in 2009. As the principal drafter of the Constitution, Vizenor blends “Native values with modern concepts of liberty, civil rights and government”82 in the constitution and decolonizes the federally designed Chippewa Constitution. The two distinct paragraphs in the Preamble redefine citizenship, enhance the tribal narrative, and strengthen the

Anishinaabe culture, which truly makes the White Earth Nation Constitution a singular one.

Since the Constitution was ratified on November 19, 2013, there have been debates on the content of the Constitution and the consequences of the changes regarding the use of language and the inclusion of the Anishinaabe philosophy. Many people feared that the changes would jeopardize federal recognition in the future. As a result, the White Earth Nation Constitution reform remains stalled as of today. Treaty Shirts was published in 2016 and the novel is set in the year 2034, the year the White Earth Nation Constitution is abrogated. The setting insinuates

Vizenor’s worry and hope for the actual practice of the constitution. Even though the

Constitution is abrogated in the novel, Vizenor shows a firm attitude toward Native sovereignty, one that relies upon transmotion as a defining principle of past and future indigeneity.

Inspired by the Tao tatala tradition, Kawut na Cinat’kelang continues to inspire the Tao people to make bigger tatala, to produce another documentary from a different perspective, and to join the global Indigenous movement about sailing. For example, an eighteen-person tatala was built in 2011 and the tatala sailed to Kenting, the southmost point in Taiwan and then traveled northward along the Taiwan Strait to Taipei City. Another documentary, My Uncle’s Tatala

(2016) was directed by Weiling Jiang, a Tao female who returned home after almost twenty years away from Ponso no Tao. The documentary records the way her uncle builds a tatala from

82 Jason Adkins, “What Earth Delegates Ratify New Constitution,” Detroit Lakes Newspapers, April 8, 2009. https://www.dl-online.com/news/544572-white-earth-delegates- ratify-new-constitution

213 a female perspective because females are not allowed to be close to the materials or the tatala after it is built. Therefore, making this documentary was more difficult because she was not allowed to record every step of the process. My Uncle’s Tatala shows the audience the first-hand experience of witnessing the process of construction; moreover, it serves an educational purpose for non-Tao people to respect and understand the importance of tatala culture. The most recent project (2019) for the Tao people is to build a twenty-five-person tatala and sail it to Batam

Island in Indonesia in order to reenact the ancient sailing route of their ancestors. This international project involves the Tao people, Taiwanese, Indigenous people of Batam Island, and the Indonesians. All parties are working on making the tatala and the route possible because it involves the danger of crossing Kuroshio Current and several international borders, as well as finding the warriors and support along the way. Similarly, the resurgence of canoe culture and technology in several Indigenous nations in the Pacific Northwest such as the Paddle to Squaxin in 2012, the Paddle to Nisqually in 2016, and the Paddle to Lummi in 2019 demonstrate the significance of cultural revitalization. The documentary Moanauiākea: One Ocean. One Canoe.

One People (2018) honors the Hawai’ian ocean culture, illustrates the significance of Traditional

Knowledge embedded in storytelling, and documents the ambitious journey from Hawai’i to the

Americas, Australia, and Asia.83 The Indigenous sovereign transmotion is being witnessed and celebrated in the global Indigenous communities

Cultural sovereignty as a shared concern can be observed with a different mode of government in Treaty Shirts and Kawut na Cinat’kelang. In the epigraph to Treaty Shirts,

Vizenor shows his attitude on the concept of government that he believes a government should

83 See Moanauiākea: One Oncea. One Canoe. One People. http://www.hokulea.com/moananuiakea-film/ and The Island We Seek in the Earth of Tomorrow. http://www.hokulea.com/waamoana/

214 tolerate multiple voices even in disagreement. For examples, the seven exiles decide to get rid of the new regime when the Constitution is abrogated by living to exercise the Constitution on

Baron of Patronia. With the emphasis on freedom, justice, and imagination, the seven exiles, though having conflicting opinions, form a government where stories of historical events as well as personal and familial memories are valued highly. The characters may debate and disagree with one another; however, they strive hard to honor the Anishinaabe culture and philosophy.

Similarly, meetings of the tribal council in Kawut na Cinat’kelang demonstrate the influence of the Tao makayaon upon decision making. During the tribal councils, the elders would reiterate the importance of abiding by the Tao customs so as to avoid possible punishment from the ancestors. Even though the tribal members have different opinions about building Ipangana, with the stories and experiences of the tribal elders, the participants are able to reach agreement on the reasonable explanation to build the assembled boat without anger the ancestors. Both Treaty

Shirts and Kawut na Cinat’kelang demonstrate a mode of government that listens to various voices and honors and culture significant to the communities.

Trans-Pacific Dialogue of transmotion exhibited in the two texts demonstrates the interweaving of history, cultures, stories, memories, and communities. The Indigenous identity is strengthened through the practice of traditions, memories of historical events, and creative stories of imagination. Vizenor sets Treaty Shirts in the future and honors Native sovereignty recognized in the peace treaty in the eighteenth century; Lin documents the traditional method of assembling a tatala that honors the oceanic culture of the Tao tribe. Both Vizenor and Lin, blending the past and the future, demonstrate the presence of Indigeneity embedded in the concept of transmotion.

215

Conclusion

The Future of Trans-Pacific Dialogue: “The World Begins at a Kitchen Table”—

Indigenous Foodways as An Example

This project, Trans-Pacific Dialogue, pursues a comparative approach, and emphasizes

Indigenous perspectives in the study of indigeneity across the globe. By juxtaposing Native

American and Taiwanese Indigenous texts, Trans-Pacific Dialogue reveals the importance of

Indigenous identity formation through relationships with family, community, culture, and nature, and demonstrates an innovative and productive comparative approach that contributes to the global Indigenous conversation and promotes the visibility of Taiwanese Indigenous texts for the global Indigenous community. Moreover, the Indigenous centered methodologies in the project, such as storytelling and rituals, encourages decolonizing approaches to honor the voices of ancestors, traditional knowledge, and interconnectedness. It is imperative to acknowledge both tribal-specific cultures and Indigenous-centered methodologies. In her Native Authenticity:

Transnational Perspectives on Native American Literary Studies, Deborah Madsen brings together distinguished essays that offer comparative perspective on Native American, Canadian

First Nations, Native Hawaiian, and Chicano literatures. Similarly, Chadwick Allen’s Trans-

Indigenous Methodologies for Global Native Literary Studies promotes the study of global

Indigenous texts and expands the Western conception of the body of Indigenous texts, cultures, and worldviews. Twenty-First Century Perspectives on Indigenous Studies: Native North

America in (Trans)Motion, edited by Brigit Däwes, Karsten Fitz, and Sabine N. Meyer, adds to a comparative and Trans-Indigenous studies, and highlights intersecting themes of global

Indigenous peoples.

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The future of Trans-Pacific Dialogue as a crucial component in global indigeneity emphasizes interdisciplinary collaboration across the globe. The Center for International

Indigenous Affairs (CIIA) at National Dong Hwa University in Taiwan has strived to promote

Indigenous education and traditional knowledge with Institutes in Canada and New Zealand for years. The most recent workshops, “跨域與連結：原住民族研究工作坊” [Trans-disciplinarity and Connection: Indigenous Research Collaboration Workshop] in June 2020 centered around

Taiwanese Indigenous communities in relation to public health, art performances, and language revitalization.1 In addition to respect for tribal specific codes, the presenters shared their experiences on working with Indigenous and non-Indigenous communities as well as government branches. These experiences are valuable because the scholars and researchers believe that trans-disciplinarity and connection are necessary for future conversation with international Indigenous communities. Just as the CIIA continues to raise awareness on

Indigenous issues and promotes collaboration within Taiwanese Indigenous communities and across the world, so the Canada-based Reconciling Ways of Knowing Society partners with the

David Suzuki Foundation, the Indigenous Leadership Initiative, and the Turtle Lodge Centre for

Indigenous Education and Wellness to create productive conversation between Indigenous knowledge and western science. Online forums urge the recognition of the Indigenous knowledge and lifeways, and address the importance of nation-to-nation dialogue between

Indigenous peoples and the Canadian governments.2 Similarly, the Asia Pacific Center at the

1 See https://www.iia.ndhu.edu.tw/en/indigenous-research-collaboration-workshop-and- call-for-proposal/ and YouTube channel https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCii- gQeZgS8NzeK2o2GJLtg

2 See https://www.waysofknowingforum.ca/ and YouTube channel https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCULWzMyhMCuQF8XSgVXrrTw

217

University of California, Los Angeles, cohosted a webinar series on Indigenous knowledge, policy making and community empowerment with institutes from Indonesia, Philippines, and

Taiwan from September to November in 2020.3 The scholars and researchers shared their study on Indigenous organized movements on environmental protection, language revitalization, weaving and textile design, and policy making on cultural preservation and repatriation. The workshops, forums, and webinars listed above provide exciting and engaging conversations that demonstrate the vitality of global Indigenous communities and highlight the necessity for future collaborations so as to promote both local and Indigenous knowledge and cultures.

Indigenous-centered dialogue and collaboration can be observed in Indigenous food knowledge and (fine) dining because the Indigenous foodways showcase diverse regional diets and encompass ecological knowledge, native seed preservation, and language and culture revitalization, to name a few. In other words, Indigenous foodways contain knowledge of both the local ecosystem and the unique cultures associated with different Indigenous communities.

Therefore, Indigenous foodways help Indigenous communities to strengthen their connection with the land, and provide an Indigenous epistemology, echoing Linda Tuhiwai Smith’s concept of decolonizing methodologies. Reinhardt’s Decolonizing Diet Project (DDP), which ran from

2010 to 2012, is one of the pioneer projects that emphasizes the revitalization of pre-contact diet.

The DDP, focused on Indigenous foods of the Great Lakes Region, has called attention to the reconnection with nature, culture, and Indigenous foodways.4 Later, Reinhardt published The

3 See “Engaged Scholarship in the Asia Pacific” https://dal.ucla.edu/engagedresearch/ and YouTube channel https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCLOa1SrCfewSXmHXNPJnnCQ

4 See “Decolonizing Diet Project Blog” http://decolonizingdietproject.blogspot.com/ and https://share.nmu.edu/moodle/course/view.php?id=33, and the presentation file https://foodsovereigntycom.files.wordpress.com/2017/03/decolonizing_our_diet.pdf

218

Decolonizing Diet Project Cookbook in 2015 to encourage the use of Indigenous food recipes and local ingredients from the Great Lakes Region. In addition to the DDP and its publication, in

2012 both Tohono O’odham Community Action and Enrique Salmón began to promote the rich food traditions from crop cultivation to food preparation of the O’odham people and the southwest United States in From I’ioi’s Garden: Tohono O’odham Food Traditions and Eating the Landscape: American Indian Stories of Food, Identities, and Resilience, respectively, to strengthen the connection between cultural identity and their land. Heid E. Erdrich reintroduces local plants that have been used by Indigenous communities and compiles home recipes paired with stories from local communities in Original Local: Indigenous Foods, Stories, and Recipes from the Upper Midwest published in 2013. The Sioux Chef’s Indigenous Kitchen (2017) was named of one the Best Cookbooks of 2017 by NPR and won the 2018 James Beard Award for

Best American Cookbook. Sean Sherman, the chef featured in the book, embraces pre-contact ingredients and recipes and educates readers about the relationship between food and culture.

Devon Mihesuah published Indigenous Food Sovereignty in the United States: Restoring

Cultural Knowledge, Protecting Environments, and Regaining Health in 2019, and Recovering

Our Ancestors’ Gardens: Indigenous Recipes and Guide to Diet and Fitness in 2020, and both books offer Indigenous knowledge and storytelling and advocate for Indigenous food sovereignty. These cookbooks as a form of storytelling demonstrate decolonizing methodologies that call attention to Indigenous foodways because the recipes, instructions, and stories in the cookbooks encompass ancestral memories, the relationship with the land, and cultural identity.

Just as there are more and more publications on Indigenous food knowledge and culture, so Indigenous cuisine is on the rise because Indigenous chefs are committed to decolonizing food by introducing indigenous and local ingredients, and their exciting recipes show the unique

219

Indigenous cultures. Take Sean Sherman, the writer of The Sioux Chef’s Indigenous Kitchen, as an example. Before the publication of the book, Sherman had worked in the food industry for a long time. As a member of the Oglala Lakota, Sherman had been immersed in different food flavors prepared by his relatives, and he has developed knowledge about local plants that have been used by his ancestors in the Black Hills region. After working in different restaurants, he realized the significant connections between Indigenous people, culture, and nature; therefore, he founded The Sioux Chef with the commitment to teaching Indigenous food system and to the public awareness of the underrepresented Indigenous food in Minneapolis in 2014. In addition to

The Sioux Chef, Sherman also founded the North American Traditional Indigenous Food

Systems (NāTIFS) that serves as an education and training center for Indigenous communities to reclaim the food knowledge and cultural empowerment, including “removal of colonized thought, reconnect spiritually, mentally, physically with the natural world, understand and build

Indigenous foundations, and regain, retain, share practice knowledge.”5 In his response to the rising Indigenous cuisines in the United States, Sherman answers, “We’re taking knowledge from the past, and the tools we have today, to move forward and break free from the oppression and the poverty that’s been plaguing Indian country.” 6The success of project calls attention to many other Indigenous restaurants, casual and formal, and Indigenous food recipes in the United

States.7 Moreover, as a part of the global Indigenous food revitalization, the television show Red

5 Sean Sherman, The Sioux Chef’s Indigenous Kitchen (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 2017), 5. See https://www.natifs.org/ In addition to The Sioux Chef, both restaurants, Tatanka Food Truck, and Indigenous Food Lab are two other crucial educational centers for NāTIFS.

6 Hannah Walhout, “Sean Sherman on Decolonizing the American Diet,” Food & Wine October 14, 2019. https://www.foodandwine.com/chefs/sean-sherman-sioux-chef-cookbook

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Chef Revival in Canada educates both Indigenous and non-Indigenous communities the vitality of Indigenous cuisine and the stories embedded in the dishes.8 Indigenous foodways indeed strengthen the knowledge on food, plants, nature; most importantly, cultures associated with various Indigenous cuisines reinforce Indigenous identity.9

Just as Indigenous foodways have raised awareness in the United States, so conversations regarding Taiwanese Indigenous food ingredients and knowledge have gradually attracted public attention. Hsue-yue Wu, an Amis who has helped preserve local seeds and collected stories about farming rituals from elders, is one of the pioneers committed to promoting Indigenous knowledge in Taiwan. She introduces native edible plants in eastern Taiwan, home to Amis people and compiles various home recipes with stories in her 台灣新野菜主義 [Edible Wild

Plants of Taiwan] published in 2006, the first book on Amis Indigenous foodways. Her recent projects include the cultivation of Amis native wild plants, and seed preservation in Svalbard

Global Seed Vault in Norway, the largest seed vault on the globe10 because she finds the urgency to reintroduce the traditional foods and the culture associated with the foods to her people. In

7 See Andrea Cooper, “Where to Try Native American Cuisine in the United States—and Why You Really Should Now,” AFAR (Nov. 15, 2019). https://www.afar.com/magazine/the- cuisine-you-havent-tried-yet-but-should

8 See https://redchefrevival.com/

9 One of the most recent project son Indigenous food knowledge is the National Congress of American Indians Tribal Food Sovereignty Advancement Initiative, which provides information about partner programs and funding resources. See https://www.ncai.org/fooddirectory.pdf?fbclid=IwAR2YiRMQ0pSfQI2eUiaAjPdYMA9TQCQw orUmVNSQcWhXW2gID8xCHsSlboM and the webinar about the initiative https://youtu.be/ti2unWRN29I

10 Svalbard Globale Frøhvelv, or Svalbard Global Seed Vault, is a non-profit organization on a remote island between Norway and the North Pole and the world’s largest collection of crop diversity. See https://www.croptrust.org/our-work/svalbard-global-seed-vault/

221 addition to Wu’s publication, a conference proceeding Love of Mountain and Ocean: The

International Conference on Indigenous Food Literature and Culture published in 2012 is the first collection of scholarly essays on Indigenous foods and cultures in Taiwan. Puyuma scholar

Shu-ming Dong writes, “原住民作家在面對「食物」所展現出的現實、審美、歷史與文化

意義，應有助於現代人反思「飲食」之於人類生存與生活之價值”11 [The reality, aesthetics, history, and culture of food in Indigenous writers’ works help people to reflect on the food in terms of survival and value]. The contributors of Love of Mountain and Ocean point out

Indigenous foodways are a way to home—Indigenous identity, community, and culture. The most recent publication is 鄒的植物書 [Plant Book of Tsou] ( 2020) in which Tsou elders narrated stories, memories, rituals and ceremonies associated with more than three hundred plants both in scientific name and in Tsao language. Plant Book of Tsou is more than simple botany; it points out the significant relationship between Tsous and native plants, an herbal epistemology.

The transformation of Indigenous cuisine in Taiwan, from Indigenous-themed eateries

(原住民風味餐廳) to Indigenous-centered fine dining, is especially worthy of further consideration in global Indigenous foodways. There are numerous Indigenous themed eateries in different parts of Taiwan. Originally, these restaurants served as gathering places for urban

Indigenous population. The use of wild plants and games on the menu have gradually attracted

11 Shu-ming Dong 董恕明, “Ye dong xi tai wan dang dai yuan zhu min han yu shu xue zhong de yin shi tu xiang” 野東西—台灣當代原住民漢語輸血中的飲食圖像 [Wild things: Food Depictions and Images in Contemporary Taiwanese Indigenous Writing], Shan hai lian yuan zhu min yin shi wen xue yu wen hua guo ji xue shu yan tao hui lun wen ji 山海戀：原住民飲食文學與文化國際學術研討會論文集 [Love of Mountain and Ocean: The International Conference on Indigenous Food Literature and Culture] (Taipei City: Fish&Fish Publisher, 2012), 16. My translation.

222 people’s attention. While it is cheering to find increasing numbers of Indigenous themed restaurants in cities, it is hard to tell if these restaurants are Indigenous owned because these restaurants share similarities in décor, music, menus and sometimes performances, somewhat lacking tribal specific cuisines. On the other hand, some Indigenous owned eateries provide tribal specific dishes, such as cinavu, Paiwan steamed taro, and cinmmian, Atayal cured meat; however, these restaurants are usually located within tribal communities and are less accessible than those in the cities. No matter where the Indigenous themed restaurants are, they provide affordable dishes flavored with local spices to customers. In 2015 Alex Peng, a Rukai chef, returned to his community Kucapungane in Pingtong County in southern Taiwan and opened the first Indigenous fine dining restaurant, Akame, which means grill in Rukai language.12 Peng observes the similar menus in various Indigenous themed restaurants and wants to subvert the food stereotypes associated with Indigenous communities. “過去，大家對原住民料理的印象

是風味餐、石板烤肉，但原住民料理有很多變化性，很多能發揮”13 [In the past, people were familiar with Indigenous themed dishes, such as slate barbeque; however, there are so many varieties in Indigenous cuisines worth exploring]. Therefore, Peng creates his dishes with the variety of local spices and herbs and cooking techniques and presents them with local made

12 Alex Peng, or Tien-en Peng (彭天恩) worked for André Chiang (江振誠), the first Michelin 2-star Taiwanese chef for his Restaurant ANDRÉ in Singapore. The experience of working in Restaurant ANDRÉ made Peng investigate more on Indigenous fine dining. See https://akame-restaurant.business.site/?utm_source=gmb&utm_medium=referral

13 Yu-jie Wu 吳雨潔, “Nan tai wan zui nan ding wei de Akame zhu chu cong xin jia po hui dao bu luo wo yao zuo you ling hun de cai” 南台灣最難定位的 Akame 主廚：從新加坡回到部落，我要做有靈魂的菜 [The Most Difficult Reserved Akame in Southern Taiwan: From Singapore to Tribe—The Dishes with Soul], CommomWealth Magaine May 14, 2018. My translation. https://www.cw.com.tw/article/5089903?template=fashion

223 utensils. Moreover, as Peng is inspired by the success of Lameloise, a Michelin starred restaurant in Bourgogne in France that helps revive the local economy, so he works with local farmers, microbreweries, wineries, dairy farms, and bed and breakfasts to “活絡部落能量，牽動的不只

是觀光，更多的是對不同文化的尊重與包容”14 [revitalize the tribe with positive impact on tourism and most importantly, the respect for different cultures]. Akame is Peng’s dream come true because he has “從開始學做菜，要在地，要用新的方式呈現原住民料理，想了 20

年”15 [spent twenty years learning to cook with native ingredients and to present Indigenous cuisines with creativity]. Moreover, Akame represents Peng’s storytelling of his Rukai tradition and becomes a crucial component connecting not just the local community but also those who come for taste and Indigenous culture.

Indigenous foodways and dining indeed demonstrate the Indigenous-centered knowledge and culture, and the Indigenous cookbooks as a form of storytelling, weaving story, history, culture, and nature together, provide decolonizing approaches and honor Indigenous voices. In

“Perhaps the World Ends Here,” Joy Harjo writes, “The world begins at a kitchen table. No matter what, we must eat to live./ The gifts of earth are brought and prepared, set on the table. So it has been since creation, and it will go on.”16 A kitchen is more than a physical space within a household; it is where people are comforted, and stories and knowledge are passed on just like

14 Wu, My translation.

15 Ming Chou 周敏, “Nan guo xian jing hao cha cun ，yuan zhu min fa shi jing zhi shao kao 南國仙境好茶村，原住民法式精緻燒烤” [Kucapungane, the Southern Paradise: French Style Indigenous Fine Dining], CommenWealth Magazine Mar. 29, 2017. My translation. https://www.cw.com.tw/article/5081675?template=fashion

16 Joy Harjo, “Perhaps the World Ends Here,” The Woman Who Fell from The Sky (New York: W.W. Norton, 1996), 68.

224 the opening poem of Ceremony in which Leslie Marmon Silko writes, “He rubbed his belly./ I keep them here/ [he said]/ Here, put your hand on it/ See, it is moving./ There is life here/ for the people./ And in the belly of this story/ the rituals and the ceremony/ are still growing.”17 Just as

Indigenous chefs excite our palate with Indigenous cuisines, so stories, memories, dialogues, and recipes associated with food and kitchen strengthen Indigenous identity and connection to the land and culture.

17 Leslie Marmon Silko, Ceremony (New York: Penguin Books, 1977), 2 225

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