[This Wednesday,
my summer
hybrid grad course on 20th Century American Women Writers kicked
off (we started with a discussion of Sui
Sin Far’s Mrs. Spring Fragrance!).
So this week I’ll AmericanStudy some exemplary such writers, leading up to a
weekend post on some of what I’m most excited for with that summer course.]
Two texts that
can complicate and enrich our understanding of a unique and vital writer.
I’ve written a
good bit about Leslie
Marmon Silko in this space, and in every
such post have focused specifically on aspects of her debut
novel, Ceremony (1977). I’ve had good reasons for doing
so—not just that Ceremony is one of
my couple favorite American novels (although yes), but also that it is (to my
mind, but I’d argue the case any time) one of the most unique and important
works of 20th century American literature. It’d be important in
making that case to contextualize and complement Silko’s novel both with an
influential predecessor such as N.
Scott Momaday’s House Made of Dawn (1969) and with the works of her many contemporaries
in the “Native American Renaissance” of the 1970s and 80s. Yet all great
individual works have contexts and complements, and none of those for Silko’s
work take away from the unquestionable significance and power of Ceremony. I’d put it on the short list
of greatest American novels, and am continually blown away that it was Silko’s debut novel,
published before she was thirty years old.
Because Ceremony was the debut novel in a
multi-decade career that has continued
into our own 21st century moment, however, no understanding of
Silko’s works can or should stop there. Just a few years after that debut,
Silko published Storyteller
(1981), a hugely distinct work in both form and content. Formally, the book
includes not only short fiction by Silko but also Laguna Pueblo folktales and
numerous photographs (taken by Silko or her family members) of her Laguna
Pueblo reservation and the surrounding communities and settings. Although some
of the book’s individual short stories have been frequently anthologized (such
as the mysterious “Yellow
Woman,” which I’ve taught in my First-Year Writing I course for more than a
decade), the ideal way to read them is as part of that multi-genre and –media whole,
as the stories themselves engage with themes of Native American spirituality
and storytelling, community and setting, and history and identity in ways that parallel
and depend upon the book’s materials and contexts. For all those reasons and
more, Storyteller reflects very distinct
and important sides of Silko’s talents and works, and demands its own
attention.
And then there’s
Almanac of the Dead (1991). This
novel of Silko’s is once again formally distinct from her earlier works, this
time moving through numerous perspective characters, settings across North and
Central America, and time periods to create a multi-generational historical
novel of European and Native American contact and conflict. But I would argue
that it differs even more in tone, focusing consistently on darker and more
horrific histories and stories, and on protagonists whose lives and professions
(such as arms and drug dealers, assassins, corrupt leaders, even a black market
organ dealer) mirror and amplify those darknesses. Certainly characters like
Tayo in Ceremony and the unnamed
narrator of “Yellow Woman” have their struggles and traumas, but they are also
seeking healing or wholeness or a way to move forward through those histories
into a future beyond them. The characters and stories in Almanac, on the other hand, not only exist and dwell in the dark
histories, but reflect a world in which (in a reductive but not I believe
inaccurate summary of the novel’s central themes) it is only through present darkness
that justice can be achieved for those who have suffered from it in the past.
That’s a far different theme from those at the heart of Ceremony, and an illustration of why we need to read and engage
with all of Silko’s works to understand her multi-faceted and evolving career.
Last writer
tomorrow,
Ben
PS. What do you think?
Other women writers (20th century American or otherwise) you’d
highlight?
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