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    poetry


    dots Submission Name: Ravendots
    --------------------------------------------------------





    Author: Jeniffer
    ASL Info:    18/f/earth
    Elite Ratio:    5.76 - 240/279/81
    Words: 1570
    Class/Type: Story/
    Total Views: 1311
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 8555



    Description:
       This is the story that I wrote for that 'Eskimo story' contest that Jimmy posted awhile back, some of you will probably remember that.

    If you would like to read the legend that inspired the story, go here: RavenandWhale

    Thank you to anyone who reads the whole thing, let alone comments. Hopefully it is good enough to hold your attention...

    Dang, the picture didn't work....oh well.


    Make the font bigger!! Double Spacing Back to recent posts.

    dotsRavendots
    -------------------------------------------


    It was in the blue green light that radiated from the grass-covered hills, and through the early morning spring fog that hovers above Nazan Bay that I saw her. I was seventeen at that time, and each morning while it was still dark I would find the same spot to sit and watch the Bay grow light with the sky. Soon, the lonely village of Atka would be awake, and by noon the emerald coast would be alive with laughing children and their patient fathers teaching them how to fish.

    The previous night I had experienced a strange dream; one of those that is clear and real as day, yet is forgotten the instant my eyes were awake. As I sat there that morning on the soft, thick grass, I tried to conjure up the memory of my dream; unexpectedly, behind my closed eyes I was a child of six again, snuggled deep beneath the covers in my bed, listening to my mother’s bedtime story.

    “Do you remember Raven, Tuuluuwaq?” She would begin. “Of course, Aga!” I would laugh. She had told me countless tales of Raven, the bird-man-god who made the world. He was also a man who wore the feathers and beak of a raven. Some of the stories she told me were from old Eskimo legends passed down through generations, some she had come up with herself. She was very good at this. My favorite of all Raven’s stories was the one in which he was riding his kayak out to sea to explore, because even though he made the world, he had not seen it all……..

    “He came upon a great whale, and he decided he was curious to see what it looked like inside the whale..

    “He waited for the whale to yawn, and he just rowed his kayak right inside. It was very dark, and he could see the whale’s great ribs…..”


    Mother would go into great detail as she described the inside of the whale, until it seemed she must have seen it for herself.

    “ There, in the center of the whale, Raven saw a beautiful young girl with strings attaching her hands and feet to the whale. She was dancing; Raven fell in love with her, and he took off his bird beak and feathers so she could see his human face, and asked her to come with him and marry him. She said she could not leave, because she was the whale’s heart and soul; if she left, the whale would die.”

    I opened my eyes and searched the Bay, remembering my Aga’s words and wondering just why they were on my mind.

    Then I realized what my dream had been.

    I was Raven, rowing my kayak into the whale’s yawn, falling in love with the dancing girl.

    I had not had such a dream since I was child, when I would close my eyes in sleep and live the stories that lulled me there. Of all the legends I would dream of, the one with the dancing girl in the whale was the most profound and recurrent, although they stopped coming when I got too old for bedtime stories. I wondered why this one had returned to me.
    I closed my eyes again and thought back. My childhood dreams had always been fuzzy. The only details I remembered clearly upon waking were the girl’s long black hair, and that her eyes shined with something I could not yet understand. Sometimes I realized I was dreaming, and the girl would evaporate, leaving me alone inside the whale, which became my room in which I woke to find myself.

    This recent one was different, though. The whale, my raven feathers, and the girl had all been real. The girl had a face that was never there in my early dreams. Her cheeks were full and round, and they shined like obsidian. She was the most beautiful girl I had ever seen. “Anana”, my Aga had described her. “Beautiful.”

    Once again I opened my eyes, and as my mother’s voice continued in my head, that was when I saw the girl. About a hundred yards away, along the same coast as I, she stood against the wind. She stared out at the misted waters of Nazan Bay. At first I could only make out the outline of her soft form through the shifting veils of fog, but then she began to slowly walk towards me, keeping her eyes on the Bay. My heart leapt at her face. Perhaps the strength of my gaze must have pulled her, because she began to peer through the mist, searching until our eyes met for a moment. I recognized her as the girl who lived at the other end of our tiny village, and also, to my alarm, as the girl from my dream. Perhaps it was the wind and fog mixed with my imagination, but I thought she was dancing.

    “How did she dance, Aga?” My young voice asked.

    “She danced like a morning glory in the fresh spring wind, and when the whale moved fast, she would leap and jump, and when the whale slept, she would dance very slowly. Eventually, she became so slow that she stopped, closed her eyes and was still.

    Raven looked at her, so lovely asleep, that he forgot all about what she said, and he put on his bird feathers and beak and picked her up. As he carried her off outside the whale, he could hear the strings break. At first, too happy to care, he soared above the clouds with the sleeping girl. But then he looked down and saw the whale dying and washing ashore. To his dismay, the girl grew smaller and smaller until she disappeared altogether.”


    My eyes filled with tears at the memory of my childish sorrow for Raven, and I was glad that the girl looked away and seemed to forget about me. I felt a momentary urge to run to her and talk to her, learn her name and maybe even tell her about my dream, but somehow I knew in my heart that we would meet again very soon; so I let her disappear into the fog.

    “Raven was so sorrowful that he circled in the sky and landed by the whale, and he cried for weeks. His tears were the first ever cried. After that he got up and danced. He danced for weeks, and then he began to sing, and he sang for weeks until he had soothed his heart. This was the first song and first dance. He took off into the sky, and he told all the humans and all the animals to love each other always and care for each other, and never forget that all things have a heart and a soul, and nothing can live without them. He promised to always come back to the earth as long as they did these things.”



    “Is that the end?” I heard my boyish voice in my head, as though echoing from years ago. “Is that the end?” I looked down, as my own daughter’s voice was really the echo, and brushed her rosy cheek to remind myself she was real. “Yes, Buniq, that is the end of that story, but Raven has many more.” She looked up at me with those black eyes, now weary with sleep. “So what happened to the girl? Did you see her again?” I laughed with the husky voice that has deepened long since my days of sitting by Nazan Bay as a boy. “Yes, I did see her again. Her name is Kirima, which means, “a hill”, just like the hills that surround Nazan Bay. She is your mother.” It took a moment for her heart-shaped face to light up with surprised understanding. For a rare moment she had no words to say, and I took the opportunity to pull the covers up to her chin and dim the lantern by her bed. She would have her own stories to tell one day.

    “Please, just one more? A really, really short one?” She was looking at me with her mother’s eyes in the dark. I gave in and sat back down. “Well,” I said, “there is one more. It is the story of my name.

    “My Aga taught me that it was believed that the name of an ancestor contained the ancestor’s soul, and when a baby was given that name, the soul of the ancestor went into the baby. When she told me this, I asked her where I got my name. She said it was not the name of any of our ancestors, but it was very special. “Tuuluuwaq,” she said, “is in Inuit word. It means many different things.” I pause for drama just like my mother had. “Well, what does it mean?” my daughter asked just like I had. I smiled. “It means, “fierce, intelligent, fearless, and—what my mother and I liked most of all—it means raven.”




    Submitted on 2007-05-25 14:22:31     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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    ||| Comments |||
      I read each and every word of this. And true to my word, it was good enough (nay, excellent!) to hold my attention.

    I've heard of Raven before, but I never heard this story before. What a beautiful story. And I like how you adapted it really well for your piece. I like the narrator's reflection on the story and on himself. Nice.

    Very touching piece. And I like the way it came full circle at the ending. I also like the way you used in medias res to start the story. A lot of writer's do that, and I like it.

    Unlike your first commentor, I'm not going to do a real in-depth analysis. But I just want you to know that you've done an excellent job.

    Keep up the good writing!

    | Posted on 2007-11-06 00:00:00 | by AsiaticFox | [ Reply to This ]
      All right. I think you deserve a good comment after putting that kind of effort into something. It's an interesting story, at least as far as I've gotten at the moment, but I have found a few things that could stand correction. For instance:

    "Sometimes I realized I was dreaming, and the girl would evaporate, leaving me alone inside the whale, which became my room in which I woke to find myself."

    That is one heck of a run-on sentence. You evidently know how to deal with those, so I'll hold off on too many suggestions--though I will say that my main problem was the second half of it... A slight error in the next paragraph; "shined" should be "shone..."

    "Once again I opened my eyes, and as my mother’s voice continued in my head, that was when I saw the girl."

    Another run-on; that's easy enough to fix if you choose to do so.

    "My heart leapt at her face."

    This sentence made me think of Alien: something jumping out of the main character's chest and latching on to someone else. Strange, that a lost word had that kind of effect. Shouldn't it be "My heart leapt at the sight of her face."?

    "my gaze must have pulled her"

    Doesn't make sense, since the first part of that sentence only states a possibility that she even noticed him. Perhaps take out the "must have."

    "“How did she dance, Aga?” My young voice asked."

    I know, this is nitpicking, but "my" should not be capitalized...

    "I felt a momentary urge to run to her and talk to her, learn her name and maybe even tell her about my dream, but somehow I knew in my heart that we would meet again very soon; so I let her disappear into the fog."

    This sentence isn't quite a run-on, since everything's connected properly, but I think that it's too long to hold the reader's focus properly. It's sort of confusing.

    The transition from young-Tuuluuwaq to father-Tuuluuwaq is sudden and leaves me wondering how the heck we got there. It's like there's a much longer story to be told, but you ran out of time or patience for the telling.

    That's all the negatives I have for you. As for positives:

    Excellent writing style. If you're actually 16 as you say, then you're among the better writers your age that I've ever encountered. I like the concept of basing a story off of legends; in fact, a lot of the better concepts we retain come from the stories of those who came before us. It's just a matter of adding the right creative angle to make them relate.

    Thanks for writing something like this. It made me think quite a bit.

    --crimson
    | Posted on 2007-08-20 00:00:00 | by crimson echo | [ Reply to This ]
      Hey Jeniffer, great story i loved it blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah I sure do know how to comment don't I blah blah blah blah blah
    | Posted on 2007-07-07 00:00:00 | by Jeniffer | [ Reply to This ]


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