So it’s another day until Easter. What better way to spend it by pondering and reflecting on certain things?
Last week, I also finished reading That Deadman Dance, and needless to say, it was actually far more somber than I thought (and I already expected it to be not the happiest story around). Particularly at the end where I had a feeling what was going on with Bobby doing his dance (will not spoil anymore in case some haven’t reached it yet).
When it comes to reading literature to do with indigenous authors or characters in general, capturing the emotion is the most important. Noticeably, the sentences are more concise, simple, and straightforward when in the view of the Aborigines compared to that of white characters. Such as when describing Bobby’s feelings (not that to nature, but he himself), we had sentences such as “Bobby Wabalanginy felt very alone.” So there’s nowhere to hide when it comes to expressing one’s self with that use of language.
Their emotions and thoughts are exposed, and you, the reader/observer, are exposed to it.
When it comes to being exposed to emotions, people tend to not know what to do. Exposing emotions are usually seen as a sort of “weakness” to many. The reason why this is so is debatable, but I do feel it’s because people want to be seen as strong and dependable. Especially in the eyes of others. It gives a sense of power, supposedly.
So, what do you do when somebody exposes their weaknesses to you? How do you react? How do you feel? What do you do? What will you do about it?
Sometimes when it comes to reading, I find that more effective than long descriptions. Though at times I tend to use descriptions (sometimes, embarrassingly, to the point of purple prose), simple can work better. Long descriptions can become very winded and, in all honesty, boring.
“Try and try again,
To perhaps be able to mend what’s broken
But is just acknowledgement enough?
Perhaps instead of keeping a tiny token…
And by try, go and understand why.
Linger and mingle, get to know
Rather than give a big, grand show.
Then perhaps no longer multi but inter
And finally, there is no need for colour.”
A short poem made up on the spot, but I remember from a lecture I heard a few years ago that said an interesting message. “Down with multiculturalism – up with interracialism.” The idea was that multiculturalism was simple acknowledgement and shallow. It had nothing to do with getting to know a person’s true core (i.e. their ethnicity, culture, and traditions). It was just acknowledging that there were other cultures and races, but continuing on with your daily life. Interracialism was actually immersing yourself in the other person’s culture and ethnic identity to better understand. Intertwining together.
The prefixes themselves “multicultural” and “interracial” was also a pointer at how similar sounding yet different the two ideas were. “Multicultural” – many cultures. “Interracial” – between/among races.
It was definitely an intriguing prospect.