Ceremonial Memories

At first glance, Leslie Marmon Silko's Ceremony seems to be a story of warfare, sickness and tribe. However, within the first 54 pages that I read, I found that Ceremony is much more than a story of war. I found that it is a story or grief, misunderstanding, responsibility and perhaps most of all so far, a story of memories. And as we are all well aware, any good "coming of age" tale involves a look back at memories, or it involves the task of dealing with memories and coming out of them alive, coming out of them better. My favorite passage is on page 8, "He could get no rest as long as the memories were tangled with the present, tangled up like colored threads from old Grandma's wicker sewing basket when he was a child, and he had carried them outside to play and they had spilled out of his arms into the summer weeds and rolled away in all directions, and then he had hurried to pick them up before Auntie found him." The aspect of entangled memories intertwined with the present creates a battle within itself, on top of the batttle Tayo had returned from with the Japenese. The theme of loss and trying to let go are ever present in this novel, so much so that I had to read a few passages over in order to fully understand the magnitude of what Tayo is going through. I have known grief and I have known sadness to the point sickness but the style and word choice that Silko uses in order to convey the emotional wreckage that is Tayo's mind in dealing with the death of Rocky and in dealing with the missing (and wishing) of Josiah. It is a beautiful story of letting go, the road it takes to get there and the uphill struggle of knowing when enough is enough and you have to put the past where it belongs in order to move foward.

Ending of Zenzele

The ending of Zenzele was a perfect ending for me. While we discussed it being similiar to Jamaica Kincaid's "Girl" in the aspect of its demanding and forceful nature, I whole heartedly disagree with that comparison. For me, the novel and the ending it came to served as a mother's final words to her daughter. I took it in a more personal sense that perhaps Shiri would not be able to get the chance to say these things to her daughter in person, or even in another letter; we do not know how long she has left to live, all we know is that she came home to die. As the theme of home resounded throughout the entire novel, I found the ending to be a state of truth, a state of ultimate vulnerability for a mother to say the things she said to her daughter. And while the last few lines did bring tears to my eyes ("my little earthquake") I think it came down to the simplicity of the writing, the simplicity of her words to her daughter. I feel as though if we were all given the chance to tell our children the kinds of stories that Shiri was able to tell Zenzele, even from the profound distance between them (both physcial and now cultural being that Zenzele is abroad), if we were given the opportunity to teach our kids the most divine lessons of life on our own death bed then we would be able to consider ourselves a successful human being, even a blessed human being. The chance to say goodbye is a priceless moment that all too often does not grants us the closure we need. From a personal stance, if my father had written me a letter before he died 8 years ago, I think it would contain similar life lessons, lessons of the heart and lessons of learning.

Zenzele (Chapters 1-8)

I have always liked letter-style writing, perhaps because I am one of the only people I know that still actually writes letters instead of emails to people. But I think the thing that I like the most in Zenzele is how telling Shiri's letters are to her daughter. The first chapter is desperate, vulnerable, forgiving and informative all in a few pages. The emotion that Shiri writes to Zenzele with comes from the heart, and the stories that she recalls and informs her of in their culture, heritage and family allow Zenzele to learn about where she comes from. Shiri is constantly reminding Zenzele to stay true to herself, true to her roots and I think that is one of the lessons that can be applied to every single culture. I think that is one of the themes and points that Mairare wrote Zenzele around: always be true to your own heart, wherever its coming from, wherever its going.