Sand Talk - Can Indigenous Thinking Really Save the World?

In 'Sand Talk: How Indigenous Thinking Can Save the World', Tyson Yunkaporta attempts a sprawling exploration of indigenous thought patterns across the world as centred by his own experiences as an Aboriginal Australian. Each chapter explores a single theme through the development of a symbol and works to introduce a particular thought pattern or practice in a way that is broadly accessible and thought-provoking. 

Integral to this text is the discussion of the production of knowledge, as he explores different 'ways of knowing' and the 'indigenous knowledge systems' used in indigenous knowledge production. Though I have studied epistemology (theory of knowledge) to some degree before, I think that Yunkaporta’s explanations of these key concepts were both effective and accessible.These indigenous processes are frequently contrasted with what he perceives to be the Western standard of knowledge production on a given point. In this juxtaposition, however, Yunkaporta repeatedly makes claims both about the nature of Western culture and history that just don’t add up while frequently overgeneralising the nature of Western knowledge production. He readily admits he’s no expert in either Indigenous cultures or the Western cultures he often critiques, so approach any broad claims about either with some respect and skepticism. Though I do question why he bothered to make sweeping generalisations knowing that this was the case. Perhaps, this was just to provide a clear contrast to what he perceives his own culture does instead, but I felt it discredited his through-line argument against simplistic thinking in the face of complex challenges. 

Further, certain key issues as far as indigenous cultures were glossed over or dismissed without adequate discussion despite being at times relevant to the discussion. On the case of domestic abuse and paedophilia in Australian indigenous communities, Yunkaporta fails to truly address the issues of today (see Indigenous Child Safety) and instead focuses on potential bad reporting of observers during first contact. He further goes on to claim that paedophilia isn’t an issue because traditionally adolescence was not as extended as it now is and that it wasn’t just old men preying on young girls, it was old women praying on young boys too (see the chapter 'Duck Hunting is Everybody's Business'):

Selective recording of observations by anthropologists and early settlers popularised the    idea that old men used their power and influence to marry underage girls and monopolise the young women of the group. This ignored the fact that old women did the same with young men - a mechanism that makes sense in terms of maintaining stable populations with low birth rates. It also served to curtail the excesses of youth and to mentor young people in how to navigate the complexity of sexual relationships. You may think of this as paedophilia, but bear in mind that this was an era when adolescence lasted months rather than years - all over the world, children became young adults and married sooner in those days. 

Some further examples of bizarre claims made throughout include the assertion that vitamin D deficiency due to anti-skin cancer campaigns has killed more people than the cancer would have, another being that neural changes caused by literacy are abhorrent. Unsurprisingly then, this book is largely devoid of references to back up any such claims, but maybe I’m just missing the point.

As others have stated, this book has little to do with indigenous thinking changing the world. Sure, there are moments in which an approach or idea could be useful when applied at scale, but the title overpromises on what are effectively broad ways of understanding the world. Further, indigenous thinking and culture is by its nature relegated to only small groups of people, and so I see no real place for the non-indigenous majority to adopt any of what is described in the book - you can’t just become indigenous. This exclusivity of indigenous knowledge is hesitantly acknowledged by Yunkaporta, as he notes the secrecy of Aboriginal Australian cultures. I doubt that this overpromising title is the fault of Yunkaporta, however, and was likely some sort of marketing push to sell more copies of an otherwise challenging and pertinent collection of essays.

This book will likely challenge things you take advantage of in your worldview, things you didn’t even consider to be part of any worldview at all. Yunkaporta does this in a way that is fascinating and accessible through a melding of art, memoir and analysis (as he calls it: “yarning”.) For this reason alone, this book is a worthy read for anyone vaguely interested in philosophy or world history. Take it slowly, and you’ll get far more out of mulling these ideas over than trying to ram them into your likely very differently wired skull. 

References:

Australian Institute of Health and Welfare 2014, Indigenous child safety, AIHW, Canberra.

Yunkaporta, T. (2020). Sand Talk : How Indigenous Thinking Can Save the World. Harpercollins Publishers.

The Constant Rabbit by Jasper Fforde

The quasi-biblical mess that is 2020 has been a year of literary discovery for me. Just as you can find pretty much anything on Reddit, I’ve also realised you can find pretty much anything in books. ‘The Constant Rabbit’ by Jasper Fforde is just one of several forays into anthropomorphic fiction, a subgenre I first learned to love through Jamie Brindle’s ‘Chaos Drive’.  While The Constant Rabbit does not feature the anthropomorphised frogs of Brindle’s creation, it does feature rabbits (and foxes and weasels too.) 

The Constant Rabbit follows Peter Knox, a mildly boring middle-aged man working for a notoriously anti-Rabbit agency in an England with over 1 million human-like rabbits. Following an ‘Event’ 55 years prior these rabbits had started to walk, talk and function in society to much leporiphobic (rabbit-phobic) opposition. Fforde’s exploration of the political implications of this absurdist entry into British society provided grounds for a scathing satire of anti-immigrant and pro-Brexit rhetoric - and human nature in general. 

Fforde’s absolute success throughout this novel was in making the idea of humanised rabbits seemingly probable. Not only did he think through the impact this would have on human culture but also developed a clear sense of rabbit culture and the ways in which the two would interact. His success in establishing the absurdist world of our protagonist made for both a humorous and thought-provoking read. 

Doing what weird fiction does best, Fforde’s political commentary is able to make use of this absurdism by applying comedy and approachability to social critique. Similarly to the use of animals in Art Spiegelman’s Maus, different animals are used to represent different groups of people. A feature of anthropomorphic fiction in general, this allows the reader to separate from their own context whilst simultaneously comparing it to that of the book. 

However, while I thoroughly enjoyed the world-building and character-arcs, The Constant Rabbit is fairly light on plot. Though I enjoyed Peter’s often clueless perspective, the fact he didn’t know what was happening most of the time meant that there was also not a lot beyond his monotonous life to drive the book forward. His discovery of rabbit-culture and examination of his own role in their plight was interesting, but I also felt like nothing actually happened for the first 250 pages. 

The use of inter-species romance was also interesting, but also kind of weird. The implications of what is effectively consensual beastiality were concluded to be ‘love is love’. However, the end of the book called this into question for me as the species barrier is still very much a thing. I also found Peter to be bizarrely apathetic about certain events which I would have expected a far greater reaction to. 

I decided to give this a 3 star rating all up, but would definitely recommend it to those looking for something a little weird and serious. I’ve also heard Fforde’s other work is similarly whimsical and look forward to checking it out.

I would like to thank NetGalley, Hodder and Staughton and Jasper Fforde for giving me an opportunity to read this book in exchange for an honest review. You can get a copy of The Constant Rabbit from Kobo, Bookdepository, Amazon and most other major booksellers. 

Light Years by Kass Morgan

'Light Years' by Kass Morgan follows the story of four soon to-be space academy students from socioeconomically diverse backgrounds as they fight adversity, and some aliens too. I don't know why I thought that sounded interesting but it actually kind of was. The story, and the characters were all super interesting, but I found the novel lacking in other ways. Rating this was actually a real challenge for me since while I really enjoyed it I don't think it deserves 4+ stars given that the writing itself lacked a bit of finesse and complexity. 

Each of the characters had their own story to tell, and their backgrounds well reflected this. With one rich kid, two poor kids from the outer planets, and an alien? spy, we certainly got to see a few different perspectives. The politics of the world were therefore really interesting, but I felt that they could have been fleshed out more as while the characters often spoke about perceived prejudice, there could have been more examples of it in action, especially in regards to Deva and Chetire, where the prejudice was felt from afar, but not seen directly in action on the planets themselves. My favourite perspectives were those of Rex and Vesper, but Arran's naivety and Orelia's coolness weren't that enjoyable. I liked the role that romance played in the novel, but I don't think that it was very realistic. I mean, who seriously feels 'electricity coursing through their body' when they kiss someone?

There were some pacing issues with this book, and I think that the end was pretty rushed. The first few weeks were really well fleshed out and then the remainder of the year was wrapped up in the same amount of words. I did enjoy the cliffhanger at the end of the book, even if it was pretty obvious. Another issue I had was with the teacher-student thing going on, and that when the student was with this teacher it was the only time they truly felt safe. It's honestly kind of weird, even if they are of similar ages (which was reinforced way too often.)  

I received an ARC copy of this book from NetGalley, and would like to thank Hachette Children's Books, and most of all Kass Morgan for giving me opportunity to read and review this book.