Standing on Ceremony

Today in my American Literature class, we're going to be discussing Leslie Marmon Silko's book Ceremony. It's not a bad book. I've read it before. It tells the story of a Native American named Tayo who served in the Pacific during World War II. He spent most of his time as a POW of the Japanese, but the entire book takes place after Tayo returns to the reservation with his family. The book is very interesting in how it analyzes the psychology of recovery, identity, and traditions. JP approves!

Then there's the plot. Here's where the troubles begin. Tayo has a lot of personal issues as a result of his time in the POW camp, and he heads off into the woods in the wintertime in search of answers. As he tries to help a woman find her cattle (a woman he slept with - go Tayo!), he encounters a mountain lion. He somehow forms this spiritual connection with the mountain lion, and said lion later saves him from the white police officers. (Summary probably not as good as it should be)

I hate this mystical Native American stuff. Why does every story involving Native Americans have some moment where the character communes with nature, sees through the eyes of the eagle, or becomes one with the wolf? Why does everyone think that Indians have magic powers? Hell, it doesn't even matter which Indians you're talking about. According to American fiction, people from India are all shamans who control mummies and Native American Indians all have this one-ness with nature.

It reminds me of that paragon of virtue, that king of kings, the man of infinite wisdom:

That's right, we're talking about Walker Texas Ranger. Every once in awhile, Walker would get it in his head to go speak to his Yoda-like mentor, an old Native American guy who lived on the convenient nearby reservation. Chief Yoda would give Walker some random advice about speaking to the animals, and this would help Walker out in a decisive moment. Walker would just be about to be attacked by the drug lord's pet puma, but then the camera would zoom in on the puma's eyes and then do a little overlay with Walker's eyes superimposed on the screen. Some mystical flute music would play, showing the viewer that Walker now controls the beast. The puma would then turn on the drug lord and maul him.

Sound familiar? For as intelligent as the rest of the book is, the fact that the climax of Ceremony plays like an episode of Walker Texas Ranger is just sad. Don't misunderstand me. I don't mean to disrespect the beliefs of Native Americans, but spirituality and magic are two different things. Understanding nature and developing a loving bond with a wild mountain lion are two different things. I don't care how centered Tayo is. Wild mountain lions maul freezing Indian boys; they don't help them out in a bind.

I read this book in my senior year of college, and I made the mistake of bringing up this point in class. The professor informed me that she once taught on an Indian reservation, and she thought I was ignorant. I felt like a dumbass. Well, I haven't really done any research on Native Americans since then, so if I was ignorant then, I'm still ignorant now. That's why this goes on my blog instead of on a response for class.

I've learned my lesson. This time I'll just develop a spiritual bond with some passing bald eagle and convince it to crash through the window of our class. That'll show 'em.