{"title":"继承的沉默:倾听土地,治愈殖民者的心灵路易丝·邓拉普(书评)","authors":"","doi":"10.1353/ff.2023.a907930","DOIUrl":null,"url":null,"abstract":"Reviewed by: Inherited Silence: Listening to the Land, Healing the Colonizer Mind by Louise Dunlap Gwyn Kirk (bio) Inherited Silence: Listening to the Land, Healing the Colonizer Mind by Louise Dunlap, New York: New Village Press, 2022. 277 pp., $89.00 hardcover, $22.95 paper. E-book available from digital partners. Congratulations to Louise Dunlap for this unflinching account of how her family's land, in what is now known as Northern California, came to be in their hands, and their silence about the Indigenous people who had cared for this place. Dunlap describes the 80-acre ranch in Napa Valley: the massive live oaks, [End Page 253] wildflower meadows, creeks, birds, and the many plants she knows by name—California natives as well as invasive species brought from Europe. She writes: I'd felt deep intimacy and love for this piece of earth since childhood, long before I understood that my great-great-grandfather had bought it in a time of what's now acknowledged as genocide … I wanted to unearth the land's history and the roles my relatives had played in its colonization … to understand the wounding that must have taken place and how all of us—and the land—could heal. (1–2) In 1843, Nathan Coombs, Dunlap's great-great-grandfather, arrived in California from Massachusetts. He founded the town of Napa in 1847; and an outlying area, Coombsville, is named after him. In 1857, Coombs bought more than 2,000 acres of rolling hills, part of a land grant the Mexican government had conferred on ranchero and military man Cayetano Juárez for his services in protecting Franciscan missions and \"subduing\" Indigenous people. Earlier, Wappo and Patwin people had used this land for hunting and gathering and cared for it year-round. Dunlap's California ancestors were businessmen, lawyers, elected officials—people who showed up in archives. She traced them through newspaper reports, old maps, the County Historical Society, and faded letters written in copperplate script. Also, scholars were publishing new histories that documented \"a California genocide during the Anglo wave of conquest from 1846 to 1873,\" just as Nathan Coombs was establishing himself (47). What Dunlap learned about her family did not fully answer her questions, however. She realized that their \"silences didn't start in Napa; their mind-set had come west with them\" (200). Working back in time, she discovered relatives who'd arrived on the Mayflower and were \"part of settler-colonialism from the very beginning\" (201). She read critical accounts of the first European settlements described by literary scholar Kathleen Donegan (2014) as \"brutal places characterized by disease, death, factions, violence, starvation, ignorance …\" (203). This was not what Dunlap had learned as a child. Abenaki scholar Lisa Brooks (2018) calls the settler narrative of triumph and resilience a \"replacement narrative\" that erased both psychological trauma and the appalling brutality against those already living on this continent (203). While Dunlap is sympathetic to the hardships and violence that scarred and traumatized her kin, whose austere Puritan faith did not permit them to grieve, she recognizes their complicity in the violence against Indigenous people. In horror she writes, \"We scalped and tortured, dismembered corpses …\" (219). Whether or not her relatives were directly involved in specific atrocities, she argues, they benefitted from this inhumane system and still do. Dunlap warns readers that parts of this book may cause severe discomfort and cautions against a merely academic approach. Two final chapters detail how she has faced her profound shame and grief at what she unearthed and include [End Page 254] many resources for readers. She committed to becoming an ally to Indigenous people, starting with her participation in the 100-year commemoration of the Wounded Knee Massacre in 1990. She's joined Shellmound Walks initiated by Ohlone people in the San Francisco Bay Area and supports the Sogorea Te' Land Trust, led by urban Indigenous women, to restore Indigenous land to Indigenous people (https://sogoreate-landtrust.org/). Part of her process has been finding points of connection with her ancestors despite her revulsion at so much of what they did or believed. She has been involved in deep questioning, strong political friendships, and...","PeriodicalId":190295,"journal":{"name":"Feminist Formations","volume":"7 1","pages":"0"},"PeriodicalIF":0.0000,"publicationDate":"2023-06-01","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":"0","resultStr":"{\"title\":\"Inherited Silence: Listening to the Land, Healing the Colonizer Mind by Louise Dunlap (review)\",\"authors\":\"\",\"doi\":\"10.1353/ff.2023.a907930\",\"DOIUrl\":null,\"url\":null,\"abstract\":\"Reviewed by: Inherited Silence: Listening to the Land, Healing the Colonizer Mind by Louise Dunlap Gwyn Kirk (bio) Inherited Silence: Listening to the Land, Healing the Colonizer Mind by Louise Dunlap, New York: New Village Press, 2022. 277 pp., $89.00 hardcover, $22.95 paper. E-book available from digital partners. Congratulations to Louise Dunlap for this unflinching account of how her family's land, in what is now known as Northern California, came to be in their hands, and their silence about the Indigenous people who had cared for this place. Dunlap describes the 80-acre ranch in Napa Valley: the massive live oaks, [End Page 253] wildflower meadows, creeks, birds, and the many plants she knows by name—California natives as well as invasive species brought from Europe. She writes: I'd felt deep intimacy and love for this piece of earth since childhood, long before I understood that my great-great-grandfather had bought it in a time of what's now acknowledged as genocide … I wanted to unearth the land's history and the roles my relatives had played in its colonization … to understand the wounding that must have taken place and how all of us—and the land—could heal. (1–2) In 1843, Nathan Coombs, Dunlap's great-great-grandfather, arrived in California from Massachusetts. He founded the town of Napa in 1847; and an outlying area, Coombsville, is named after him. In 1857, Coombs bought more than 2,000 acres of rolling hills, part of a land grant the Mexican government had conferred on ranchero and military man Cayetano Juárez for his services in protecting Franciscan missions and \\\"subduing\\\" Indigenous people. Earlier, Wappo and Patwin people had used this land for hunting and gathering and cared for it year-round. Dunlap's California ancestors were businessmen, lawyers, elected officials—people who showed up in archives. She traced them through newspaper reports, old maps, the County Historical Society, and faded letters written in copperplate script. Also, scholars were publishing new histories that documented \\\"a California genocide during the Anglo wave of conquest from 1846 to 1873,\\\" just as Nathan Coombs was establishing himself (47). What Dunlap learned about her family did not fully answer her questions, however. She realized that their \\\"silences didn't start in Napa; their mind-set had come west with them\\\" (200). Working back in time, she discovered relatives who'd arrived on the Mayflower and were \\\"part of settler-colonialism from the very beginning\\\" (201). She read critical accounts of the first European settlements described by literary scholar Kathleen Donegan (2014) as \\\"brutal places characterized by disease, death, factions, violence, starvation, ignorance …\\\" (203). This was not what Dunlap had learned as a child. Abenaki scholar Lisa Brooks (2018) calls the settler narrative of triumph and resilience a \\\"replacement narrative\\\" that erased both psychological trauma and the appalling brutality against those already living on this continent (203). While Dunlap is sympathetic to the hardships and violence that scarred and traumatized her kin, whose austere Puritan faith did not permit them to grieve, she recognizes their complicity in the violence against Indigenous people. In horror she writes, \\\"We scalped and tortured, dismembered corpses …\\\" (219). Whether or not her relatives were directly involved in specific atrocities, she argues, they benefitted from this inhumane system and still do. Dunlap warns readers that parts of this book may cause severe discomfort and cautions against a merely academic approach. Two final chapters detail how she has faced her profound shame and grief at what she unearthed and include [End Page 254] many resources for readers. She committed to becoming an ally to Indigenous people, starting with her participation in the 100-year commemoration of the Wounded Knee Massacre in 1990. She's joined Shellmound Walks initiated by Ohlone people in the San Francisco Bay Area and supports the Sogorea Te' Land Trust, led by urban Indigenous women, to restore Indigenous land to Indigenous people (https://sogoreate-landtrust.org/). Part of her process has been finding points of connection with her ancestors despite her revulsion at so much of what they did or believed. 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引用次数: 0
摘要
书评:继承的沉默:倾听土地,治愈殖民者的心灵,作者:格温·柯克(传记)继承的沉默:倾听土地,治愈殖民者的心灵,作者:路易丝·邓拉普,纽约:新村出版社,2022年。277页,精装版89.00美元,纸质版22.95美元。电子书可从数字合作伙伴。祝贺路易斯·邓拉普(Louise Dunlap),她毫不畏惧地讲述了她家族的土地是如何在现在被称为北加州的地方掌握在他们手中的,以及他们对照顾这片土地的土著人民的沉默。邓拉普描述了纳帕谷80英亩的牧场:大量的活橡树,野花草地,小溪,鸟类,以及许多她知道名字的植物——加利福尼亚本土植物以及从欧洲带来的入侵物种。她写道:“我从小就对这片土地有着深深的亲密和爱,早在我知道我的曾曾祖父是在现在被认为是种族灭绝的时期买下这片土地之前……我想发掘这片土地的历史,以及我的亲戚在殖民中所扮演的角色……了解一定发生过的伤害,以及我们所有人以及这片土地如何才能愈合。”1843年,邓拉普的高曾祖父内森·库姆斯从马萨诸塞州来到加利福尼亚。1847年,他建立了纳帕镇;还有一个边远地区库姆斯维尔就是以他的名字命名的。1857年,库姆斯买下了2000多英亩连绵起伏的丘陵,这是墨西哥政府授予牧场主和军人卡耶塔诺Juárez土地的一部分,以表彰他在保护方济各会传教和“征服”土著人民方面的贡献。早些时候,瓦波和帕特温人用这片土地打猎和采集,并全年照顾它。邓拉普在加利福尼亚的祖先是商人、律师、民选官员——他们都是档案里的人。她通过报纸报道、旧地图、县历史协会和用铜版字体写的褪色信件来追踪他们。此外,学者们正在出版新的历史,记录了“1846年至1873年盎格鲁人征服浪潮期间加利福尼亚的种族灭绝”,正如内森·库姆斯(Nathan Coombs)正在确立自己的地位一样(47)。然而,邓拉普对她家庭的了解并没有完全回答她的问题。她意识到,他们的“沉默不是从纳帕开始的;他们的思维模式也跟着来到了西方”(200)。回溯过去,她发现了乘坐五月花号来到这里的亲戚,他们“从一开始就是移民殖民主义的一部分”(2011)。她读了文学学者凯瑟琳·多尼根(Kathleen Donegan, 2014)对第一批欧洲移民地的评论,称其为“以疾病、死亡、派系、暴力、饥饿、无知为特征的残酷之地”(203)。这不是邓拉普小时候学到的东西。阿本纳基学者丽莎·布鲁克斯(Lisa Brooks, 2018)称定居者的胜利和恢复力叙事是一种“替代叙事”,它抹去了心理创伤和对已经生活在这片大陆上的人的骇人听闻的暴行。虽然邓拉普同情她的亲属遭受的苦难和暴力,因为他们严格的清教徒信仰不允许他们悲伤,但她承认他们在对土著人民的暴力中同谋。她惊恐地写道:“我们剥了尸体的头皮,折磨他们,肢解尸体……”(219页)。她认为,无论她的亲戚是否直接参与了具体的暴行,他们都从这种不人道的制度中受益,现在仍然如此。邓拉普警告读者,这本书的某些部分可能会引起严重的不适,并告诫读者不要仅仅采用学术方法。最后两章详细描述了她如何面对她所发现的深刻的羞耻和悲伤,并为读者提供了许多资源。她从1990年参加伤膝大屠杀100周年纪念活动开始,致力于成为土著人民的盟友。她参加了旧金山湾区奥隆人发起的“贝壳漫步”活动,并支持由城市土著妇女领导的Sogorea Te' Land Trust组织,旨在将土著土地归还给土著人民(https://sogoreate-landtrust.org/)。她的部分过程是找到与祖先的联系,尽管她对他们的行为或信仰感到厌恶。她参与了深刻的质疑,牢固的政治友谊,以及……
Inherited Silence: Listening to the Land, Healing the Colonizer Mind by Louise Dunlap (review)
Reviewed by: Inherited Silence: Listening to the Land, Healing the Colonizer Mind by Louise Dunlap Gwyn Kirk (bio) Inherited Silence: Listening to the Land, Healing the Colonizer Mind by Louise Dunlap, New York: New Village Press, 2022. 277 pp., $89.00 hardcover, $22.95 paper. E-book available from digital partners. Congratulations to Louise Dunlap for this unflinching account of how her family's land, in what is now known as Northern California, came to be in their hands, and their silence about the Indigenous people who had cared for this place. Dunlap describes the 80-acre ranch in Napa Valley: the massive live oaks, [End Page 253] wildflower meadows, creeks, birds, and the many plants she knows by name—California natives as well as invasive species brought from Europe. She writes: I'd felt deep intimacy and love for this piece of earth since childhood, long before I understood that my great-great-grandfather had bought it in a time of what's now acknowledged as genocide … I wanted to unearth the land's history and the roles my relatives had played in its colonization … to understand the wounding that must have taken place and how all of us—and the land—could heal. (1–2) In 1843, Nathan Coombs, Dunlap's great-great-grandfather, arrived in California from Massachusetts. He founded the town of Napa in 1847; and an outlying area, Coombsville, is named after him. In 1857, Coombs bought more than 2,000 acres of rolling hills, part of a land grant the Mexican government had conferred on ranchero and military man Cayetano Juárez for his services in protecting Franciscan missions and "subduing" Indigenous people. Earlier, Wappo and Patwin people had used this land for hunting and gathering and cared for it year-round. Dunlap's California ancestors were businessmen, lawyers, elected officials—people who showed up in archives. She traced them through newspaper reports, old maps, the County Historical Society, and faded letters written in copperplate script. Also, scholars were publishing new histories that documented "a California genocide during the Anglo wave of conquest from 1846 to 1873," just as Nathan Coombs was establishing himself (47). What Dunlap learned about her family did not fully answer her questions, however. She realized that their "silences didn't start in Napa; their mind-set had come west with them" (200). Working back in time, she discovered relatives who'd arrived on the Mayflower and were "part of settler-colonialism from the very beginning" (201). She read critical accounts of the first European settlements described by literary scholar Kathleen Donegan (2014) as "brutal places characterized by disease, death, factions, violence, starvation, ignorance …" (203). This was not what Dunlap had learned as a child. Abenaki scholar Lisa Brooks (2018) calls the settler narrative of triumph and resilience a "replacement narrative" that erased both psychological trauma and the appalling brutality against those already living on this continent (203). While Dunlap is sympathetic to the hardships and violence that scarred and traumatized her kin, whose austere Puritan faith did not permit them to grieve, she recognizes their complicity in the violence against Indigenous people. In horror she writes, "We scalped and tortured, dismembered corpses …" (219). Whether or not her relatives were directly involved in specific atrocities, she argues, they benefitted from this inhumane system and still do. Dunlap warns readers that parts of this book may cause severe discomfort and cautions against a merely academic approach. Two final chapters detail how she has faced her profound shame and grief at what she unearthed and include [End Page 254] many resources for readers. She committed to becoming an ally to Indigenous people, starting with her participation in the 100-year commemoration of the Wounded Knee Massacre in 1990. She's joined Shellmound Walks initiated by Ohlone people in the San Francisco Bay Area and supports the Sogorea Te' Land Trust, led by urban Indigenous women, to restore Indigenous land to Indigenous people (https://sogoreate-landtrust.org/). Part of her process has been finding points of connection with her ancestors despite her revulsion at so much of what they did or believed. She has been involved in deep questioning, strong political friendships, and...