When someone says “Native American” what is the first thing you think of? If it is anything like the first one hundred hits on Google Images, you would see–in your mind’s eye, of course–a dark-skinned man wearing buffalo skin pants and no shirt, long black hair (greasy) hanging to his shoulders, some kind of beaded decoration sloppily slung around his neck and hanging over his chest, and there would be a good chance of being a lot of shrubbery or grass behind and around him. There is always the possibility that your mind would give him a hatchet and a bow with a pack of arrows strapped to his back–but only during war time, naturally. A horse could also be assumed to be present in your mental picture. Not a big tall horse, but a short one with paint and beads and natural spots dotting its hide. And there is your quintessential Indian (Native American). But what are Native Americans like today? What makes a Native American? What do they act like? In Thomas King’s Green Grass, Running Water, the author, through two pairs of characters and a busload of tourists, gives the reader characters who dwell on what is “authentic” Indian behavior, and characters who don’t initially appear to care about what that means, but end up showing their knowledge and respect for the culture in other ways.
King’s novel begins by opening a window and allowing the reader to get a draft of two characters, both Native American, in a semi-tumultuous conversation. We meet Lionel, who drives a car with his aunt, Norma, who is riding in the passenger seat. In response to a facetious comment Lionel makes about the Indian Council paving a dirt road, his aunt says, “If you weren’t my sister’s boy, and if I didn’t see you born with my own eyes, I would sometimes think you were white” (7). This statement is a clarifier for the reader as it elucidates the fact that Lionel isn’t white, yet Norma sees him as white. The way in which Norma says these words to Lionel is important as well. If Lionel weren’t of her own flesh and blood, and if she hadn’t had ocular proof of his emerging from between Norma’s sister’s very own legs, she would think he was white. If nothing else, this sentence shows Norma to be concerned with how her nephew is perceived; if she sometimes thinks he is white, even though she’s witnessed his birth and he’s her nephew, what would other people think who don’t have the proof that she does? Norma goes on to tell her nephew, “You sound just like those politicians in Edmonton” (7/8). When these words are added to the ones above, the reader is afforded a larger picture of how Norma sees Lionel. She lumps Lionel in with “those” politicians in Edmonton. This puts incredible distance between her and him and by the use of the word “those”, Norma’s statement is very impersonal and detached. There are “those” people, and then there are the people like her, implying “those” to be “others” unlike her. This is reaffirmed by her next sentence, “Always telling us what we can’t do” (8). Norma uses “us” and “we” to describe herself and everyone she associates with herself, and Lionel is already grouped as being like the politicians in Edmonton. Consequently, Norma has placed Lionel on the other side of a verbal, and very mental, boundary, where she sees the other people, Lionel and the politicians, as working against her. Through Norma’s dialogue, the reader begins to understand her need to be associated with her heritage, or what she views as her heritage, and her disapproval toward her own nephew for not, apparently, holding himself up to that standard.
We see again the tendency for Norma to be concerned about Lionel and his heritage. She remembers back to when Lionel was a boy, a few decades in the past, and how he had his tonsils removed. She says to Lionel, who is still driving he and Norma in the car, “Indian doctors weren’t good enough” (32). This simple declaration can imply many things, but the main point the reader should take from Norma’s words is her dwelling upon the past, concerned with who is who among races. After what we learn above about Norma, we can understand her anxiety, which has her still bringing up the past, to be directed at Lionel, who she is worried is turning into a white man. By holding onto the past, she is pointing out how even when he was a boy, his life was shaped and influenced by white culture, shunning Native Americans, even the doctors. A few minutes later, Norma reminds Lionel about his uncle, Eli. “Your uncle wanted to be a white man,” she says. “Just like you” (36). If there was any doubt about Norma’s concern with race and authenticity within her own race, this comment brings it home. Lionel’s uncle wanted to be a white man, according to Norma, and now she is seeing the same tendency in her nephew. Since Lionel is technically “authentically” Indian, Norma portrays herself as anxious and irritated at him for seemingly trying to throw it away, all in the name of being a white man, rather than a Native American. Norman’s anxiety is shown again, wrapped loosely around another jab toward her nephew, as she says, “As if they [white men] were something special. As if there weren’t enough of them in the world already” (37). This time Norma isn’t only concerned with Lionel, or his uncle Eli, but gives the reader her view on white men in general. There are too many of them in the world already, is Norma’s point, so why would someone like Lionel, who is different by birth, want to be just another white man? This is her irritation, which she spits out over and over again, painting her own self-portrait; a painting focused on race and color, dabbled with dark splotches of worry and alarm at who is being Native American, and who is trying not to be. By this time the reader understands Norma to be grilling Lionel, who only answers with silence or short responses. She proves, again and again, her concern with Lionel retaining his Native American heritage, and lambasting him for, at least in her view, trying to be white.
If the conversation seems one-sided, and it appears King isn’t giving Lionel much of a chance to redeem himself or, at any rate, explain his position, the reader gets a bit of exposition later on. Norma, still on her tirade, tells Lionel he should be more like his sister, Latisha. “That restaurant is going to make her a rich woman,” Norma tells Lionel. Nice to have a real Indian restaurant in town.” “She sells hamburger,” Lionel responds. “…and tells everyone that it’s dog meat.” Norma tells him people from all around the world come to the Dead Dog Café (59). There is a lot going on in this exchange between Norma and her nephew. First, Lionel is responding back and, suddenly, seems to care about what Norma is saying to him. He argues with her, and by his cynical comments about how his sister sells hamburger, implying there is nothing authentically Native American about it, the reader sees a glimmer of sensitivity toward his background. Norma boasts about how well the restaurant is doing, how it brings people, tourists, in from all around the world, and shows her pride in Lionel’s sister and her restaurant. Lionel responds with, “The Blackfoot didn’t eat dog” (59). Suddenly Lionel gives himself some credibility by disputing his aunt’s pride toward his sister. We realize Lionel does care and by his comment, the reader has a better view into both of the characters. Norma applauds Lionel’s sister for starting up an Indian restaurant, and even views it as “real”, where Lionel implies it is fake, and a scam, because the Blackfoot didn’t even eat dog. He says, “In the old days, dogs guarded the camp. They made sure we were safe”(60). Lionel knows the Blackfoot’s history, and finally shows it by disputing Norma’s high praise for the restaurant and its fake advertising. He even uses the word “we” when referring to the Blackfoot, creating a certain attachment between his culture and himself. This doesn’t affect Norma, as she is indifferent to his claims. She says, “Latisha has time to come out to the reserve and visit us, too…helps out with other things too” (60). We watch her stick to the same track of praising Latisha for being Indian, which means for paying attention to her heritage, all the while ignoring Lionel’s facts about the Blackfoot, and how it is being exploited by his sister. He follows up Norma’s comment with, “Traditional Blackfoot only ate things like elk and moose and buffalo” (60). As Lionel says these things, he is showing his knowledge of his culture, suggesting he is actually very in-tune with his Blackfoot heritage and holds it to a much higher degree than Norma or his sister do. He knows what the Blackfoot ate, and he only mentions it because dog is not one of them, meaning Norma is completely blind to the cheapening of the Blackfoot name, done by his sister, who she obviously holds in high esteem. This becomes a twist in what we know of Lionel’s character thus far, and blossoms into irony. It becomes apparent that he knows much more about the culture than Norma gives him credit for and, without blatantly saying it, only mildly laying out the facts, gives us the impression of being somewhat upset by its manipulation.
The irony thickens as Norma responds to Lionel’s talk of what the Blackfoot really ate, “Music to my old ears to hear you talking traditional, nephew” (60). Norma hears Lionel talking about what the Blackfoot used to do, and it registers to her that he knows some of his past, but her nephew’s point is lost on her old brain. “They sure didn’t eat dog” (60), Lionel says, reaffirming his position against Latisha’s restaurant, and Norma’s grandiose respect for it. Lionel’s respect for the Blackfoot, his seeming view of preserving it, and how it really was, rather than make it a gimmicky, touristy product for people to guffaw at, is not good enough for Norma. In fact, she doesn’t even recognize his reverence for their culture. Because of this, Lionel isn’t an “authentic” Indian but, rather, an Indian trying hard to be a white man.
The reader might see this irony as obvious and even wonder why Norma can’t see her own hypocrisy. Thus, it pays to ask, what makes an “authentic” Indian for Norma? What could Lionel do to make himself seen in good favor through the narrow eyes of his aunt? The answer, for her, is through good works and outward displays of Indian-ism, which prove who cares, and who doesn’t, about their Blackfoot heritage. As aforementioned, Norma still remembers, after three decades, Lionel and his mother not going to Indian doctors for the removal of his tonsils (32). If they had, it seems, by Norma’s incessant recalling of the past, she would be relieved and would feel better about Lionel’s being Indian. This notion of proving oneself Indian is also prevalent in the manner in which Norma talks of Latisha. She has her own “authentic”–this as Norma sees it, clear by her use of the word “real”–Indian restaurant and is therefore doing a good deed for Blackfoot pride (59). Norma also reminds Lionel, as mentioned above, “Latisha has time to come out to the reserve and visit us, too. Always helps with food for the Sun Dance. Helps out with other things, too” (60). The things Norma lists are all things which can be measured. She can count how many times Latisha has visited the reservation, and then compare that with Lionel’s visits. Latisha takes part and is a key component to the Sun Dance, and Norma can add that up as well, giving Latisha credit for caring about being Native American. This idea is heightened further when Lionel says, “Boy, if it weren’t for the clouds…you could see all the way to the mountains” (84). Norma says back, “You could see the mountains real good if you came out to the reserve once in a while…You could see your parents, too” (84). Once again, this is a small step Lionel could take to ease Norma’s anxiety of her nephew wanting to be a white man. “Has to do with pride” (84), she says a little later. This spins the above sentence into the real reason Lionel should visit the reservation. If he had any pride in his people, the Blackfoot, he’d come and visit regularly like Latisha. By not visiting, Norma is saying her nephew doesn’t have any pride in his heritage and, therefore, she sees him as posing as a white man, and not “authentically” an Indian like she and the rest who care about the reservation.
Norma and Lionel are not the only characters King uses to play with the notion of “authenticity”. Looking through a slightly different lens, tilted by a few degrees, the reader can see a somewhat common situation with the aforementioned Latisha and her husband George. Although much more brief than Lionel and Norma, the underlying idea stands the same. Latisha thinks back to how she started her café, Dead Dog, and remembers Norma telling her, “Tell them it’s dog meat…tourists like that kind of stuff” (117). Latisha thinks, “That had been the inspiration” (117). Setting Norma aside, the reader sees Latisha starting her café, and taking Norma’s idea, as she says it was inspiring, and making it into her business. Although Latisha is authentic Blackfoot, she doesn’t hesitate to create an image of her ancestors eating dogs. There are even photographs in the Dead Dog Café, showing Indians in their hunting dress, chasing dogs with spears (117). This furthers the image and could be called “catering to the tourists”. But is this bad? It’s a way to make a living, after all. The question of whether Latisha’s diner is right or wrong will find many explanations and opinions, but what is important is that she is authentically Indian, and has no problem using that to her advantage, even if it gives her people, the Blackfoot, a less than favorable name.
After a few minutes of conversing with a booth full of tourists, Latisha responds to a man’s incredulity with, “Black Labrador…you get more meat off black Labs” (143). Latisha doesn’t give up on the image she’s created. She plays along with it, and has no problem lying to the customers, as she lies blatantly even after they wonder aloud if her café isn’t a joke. She even gets a customer to begin telling her of a dog he once had as a child. The tourist remembers the dog fondly, and says it lived to be fourteen years old (145). “‘Once they get past two or three’, Latisha said gravely, ‘the meat’s too tough to eat.'” Latisha’s need to please the customers is shown again, making it clearer for the reader. Not only does she have the tourist talking about his childhood dog, but she offers up information about when it is right to eat them, making the lie even more real and sounding as if she’s an expert. It becomes evident that Latisha has no qualms about deceiving people from all around the world about her café, giving them a false impression of her culture, and a seemingly-true bit of history about the Blackfoot tribe.
Latisha’s behavior can be sharply contrasted with her ex-husband, George’s. George is not an Indian, but is American. He is of the white men Norma talks to Lionel about. But George can be compared, although loosely, to Lionel in this regard. Lionel is authentic Blackfoot, yet he’s not “authentic” in Norma’s eyes. He and George are in the same white boat, then, if being analyzed by Norma. This is not where the comparisons stop. If George and Lionel can be linked, so can Norma and Latisha. The latter two have no problem using their heritage to bring in tourists. One uses it to her advantage in the form of a trendy tourist café, and the other praises the development and sets it as an example for those she thinks aren’t embracing their Native American roots and are, instead, trying to be white. The former two, George and Lionel, both have a keen interest in the Blackfoot culture. While Lionel knows the Blackfoot’s past, George is interested in getting to know it. In a memory from Latisha, the reader can see George’s genuine interest. She remembers, “George had come out to the reserve for Indian Days…he had stood at the back of the gawking crowd and watched. At the end of the day, he was still there, watching, listening…” (144). Through Latisha’s memory, we see George standing in back of all the gawkers. The gawking crowd, as remembered by Latisha, paints a picture of all the braindead tourists that like to come and, well, gawk at the Indians without any more than a thought about what they are seeing. The reader can assume this because of the awkward picture the word “gawk” puts in our minds. It’s the overweight, white tourist slumping in the sun with a fanny pack around the waist and binoculars hanging from the neck, eyes watching, mouth hanging open, gawking. But George is set apart from that crowd. He stands in back, by himself, detached for good reason. He is seeing, but the reader gets the sense, as he is set apart from the crowd, that George is trying to understand the culture as well. And after all the gawkers are gone, at the end of the day, George is still standing there, watching and listening to everything around him. He is showing an interest and curiosity with the Blackfoot tribe that could be labeled as genuine and sincere. And this is what sharply squares off with Latisha’s perception of the same, her own, culture. She makes a living off of exploiting it, yet she is seen as authentic by Norma. George, as a white man and an outsider, is truly more “authentic” with his outward interest and fascination, and seems to care more about the Blackfoot culture, and in a more wholesome way, than Latisha or Norma, even though he knows much less about it.
How important is the question of authenticity and who does it concern the most? Obviously, as we have seen, it means more than a lot to Norma. And in a different way, to Latisha, who needs it to make a living. Yet, in a somewhat dissimilar manner, authenticity means the most to Latisha’s customers. The tourists who come through and eat at the Dead Dog Café, from all over the world.
“The tourists milled around in front of the restaurant…they pointed at the neon sign of a dog in a stewpot and took pictures of each other” (118). The tourists are enamored with the cafés sign as they stand around outside the café to take pictures. As they point and take interest in the sign, it is clear a café which claims to serve dog meat is something out of the ordinary for them and already, with their milling around and pointing, we see they are ready to believe it and take it all in. As the diner fills up with the tourists, Latisha is taking orders at one of the booths when a woman asks, “May we assume that you are Indian?” (142). This blunt question, thrown out casually to Latisha, shows this customer to be concerned with the authenticity of Latisha and, perhaps, her restaurant. We know that Latisha is Indian, and we can assume she appears that way, meaning this customer has the urge to clarify her suspicions. This same tourist asks Latisha sometime later, “were you born on the reserve?” (145). If the first question wasn’t enough, this one helps to clarify the customer’s need to verify the authenticity of Latisha. If the owner of the restaurant was born on the reserve, then it makes the café that much more authentic and real. And since these questions are not really proper to ask someone, this customer feels it is okay to ask Latisha about her background and heritage, meaning she feels entitled to know because she is the customer, and Latisha is there to make their experience a good one; an authentic one.
Throughout King’s Green Grass, Running Water, the reader can see different characters concerning themselves over varying degrees of Native American authenticity. Like Norma, who only wants Lionel to show he cares by visiting and contributing to the functions at the reservation, to Latisha, who spins a story using her background to make a profit, to George, who knows nothing of being Blackfoot, yet shows more genuine interest in learning and radiates more appreciative wholesomeness for the culture than any of the other characters in the novel. We see authenticity being a focal point in different ways, as the customers have a concern unlike that of Norma’s, or Latisha’s, or, especially, Lionel’s.
Sources:
King, Thomas. Green Grass, Running Water. Bantam. 1994.
