One of the most interesting things to think about in our modern age is how we would survive if all of this technology, all of our medicine and computers and everything else … just wasn’t anymore.  What would life be like?  The transformation would be devastating, and population around the world would probably plummet in one year.  Just consider how tightly packed our cities are, how many people are in communities where there would be no hope of growing crops on land or raising livestock to sustain a family through the year.  We get a small taste of this every time the power goes out – for a storm or other reasons.

Well, that is, admittedly, the backdrop of more than a handful of science fiction stories, and that’s actually not the focus of Chapter 7.  However, there is a flashback to that kind of primitive society, when Lyssia relays the story of Alahari.  I must confess my own fascination with the ancient cultures of this continent.  It may have something to do with the fact that I’ve visited the “Indian Mounds” in Macon more than a few times growing up (and in college).  Yes, I am very well aware of the incorrectness of that term, but that is what they were called when I grew up, and that term doesn’t diminish in the least, my appreciation for the advanced culture aboriginal tribes on this continent were able to achieve.  (An aside:  the term “native American” is actually no more or less insulting – in my mind – than the term “indian.”  In both cases, the terms used are incorrect.  Every tribe had its own name, and those are the names they should properly be called – in their own languages.  So let’s leave political correctness on the shelf where it belongs.)

What writing this chapter has reminded me of is what level of problems we think are severe.  Gas prices high – horrible tribulation!  Someone treats us not exactly the way we want to be treated – outrage!  The problems in a society like the those of what we term the Mississippian culture are complex in their own way, but much closer to the necessities of life than our own.  That was one aspect which made writing this chapter an interesting challenge.

Take care,

JTL

PS:  Thinking over this post, I realized how many of our characterizations are now simply unnecessary or perpetuate the very divides we, on the surface, claim to want to expunge from our society.  Think of it, these descriptions from fifty years ago still appear on forms, in statistics, and live in speeches when those terms have little accuracy remaining in them.  I am not a color found in a box of wax markers, and my appearance cannot be described by a single, short adjective – be it one that specifies color or supposed location of origin.  I don’t come from the area where most forms try to identify me as having come from.  The only thing that accurately identifies me is a picture – that’s it.  Nearly any other description or categorization does me a disservice and cheapens who I am.

Even the more complex attempts to categorize personality I find repulsive and demeaning.  I am not four characters of the alphabet strung together to try to bucket me into only four groups of humanity – that is even more unfair than racism, in its own way.  In his Pulitzer award-winning book, The Killer Angels, Michael Shaara has an amazing character named Kilrain.  I like his take on this subject.  “But the thing is, you cannot judge a race.  Any man who judges by the group is a peawit.  You take men one at a time…”