Smoke Signals: If we forgive our fathers, what is left? for Cloudy

amicus

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http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0120321/ Smoke Signals

“…The first movie to be written, directed, and co-produced by a Native American….”

Adapted from the book:

http://www.kstrom.net/isk/books/ya/ya313.html

THE LONE RANGER AND TONTO FISTFIGHT IN HEAVEN by Sherman Alexie. Grove/Atlantic Monthly Press, 19 Union Square West, N.Y., NY 10003, (800) 645-1267, (212) 727-0180 FAX. 223 pp., $21.00 cloth, $12 paper, 0-87113-548-5


“…The twenty-two intertwined stories in the book outline the difficult lives of Alexie's "cousins," both on and off the reservation, whose existence continues solely by the effort of enduring multiple hardships. Alcoholism, poverty, and diabetes combine with depression, despair, and disappearances, in a place where there are no high school reunions because classes have "a reunion every weekend at the Powwow Tavern…”
http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0120321/quotes

Thomas Builds-the-Fire: If we forgive our fathers, what is left?


http://swirly74.tripod.com/2002_02_01_archive
“…I heard this poem at the end of the movie Smoke Signals….”

Forgiving Our Fathers"
By Dick Lourie

How do we forgive our fathers?
Maybe in a dream.

Do we forgive our fathers for leaving us too often or forever when we were little?
Maybe for scaring us with unexpected rage

Or making us nervous because there never seemed
to be any rage there at all.

Do we forgive our fathers for marrying or not
marrying our mothers?

For divorcing or not divorcing our mothers?

And shall we forgive them for their excesses of
warmth or coldness?

Shall we forgive them for pushing or leaning,
for shutting doors, for speaking through walls,
or never speaking, or never being silent?

Do we forgive our fathers in our age or in theirs
Or in their deaths, saying it to them or not
saying it?

If we forgive our fathers, what is left?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I was doing some editing and wanted some noise other than music or news so I tuned to a film on IDF the Independent Film Channel to a film called Smoke Signals, a 1998 film about “A geeky American Indian travels from Idaho to Phoenix with a stoic companion whose father died”

Don’t ask me why that brief description caught my eye, but it did and I left the film run in the background, not paying real close attention until the very end when I heard the words to the poem.

It took some searching but I finally found the words and I thought to share them and see if any one else has seen the film or knows the writer or the book.

amicus...
 
Do we forgive our fathers for leaving us too often or forever when we were little?

forgiving isn't about the person being forgiven...

if we hold too tightly to some betrayal or injustice, we aren't hurting the person who has betrayed or wronged us...

not forgiving, after a time, is like saying, "I hate you! I'm going to drink this poison to show you how much I hate you!"

Toxic stuff...

we free ourselves in our forgiveness...
 
SelenaKittyn said:
forgiving isn't about the person being forgiven...

if we hold too tightly to some betrayal or injustice, we aren't hurting the person who has betrayed or wronged us...

not forgiving, after a time, is like saying, "I hate you! I'm going to drink this poison to show you how much I hate you!"

Toxic stuff...

we free ourselves in our forgiveness...
What you have said is correct, of course. And the implicit advice is outstanding.

But some things are easier said than done.

And some are flat-out impossible.
 
This is kind of a 'bump' I guess, but more to express my puzzlement over the lack of commentary, either on the poem or the film.

It could well be that, in this enlightened age, the concept of 'father' treads on dangerous ground.

Dunno...


amicus...
 
Cloudy is unable to get on line right now but I'm sure when she gets back she will be here. :)
 
Ami,

I'm VERY familiar with Sherman Alexie....he happens to be my favorite author. He manages to combine humor and very hard-hitting truth very well. His books actually make me laugh out loud, and then cry with the next page.

My favorite is Reservation Blues - well worth the price to own it. He has a website (I'm on dial up at the mo, and it takes hours to find anything, but will find it for you once my dsl is back up and running), and several of his essays, poems, etc., are posted there. He's a very insightful man.

Anything specific I can answer for you?

ps - proud of you for venturing outside your comfort zone. Smoke Signals is well worth watching and paying attention to next time. ;)
 
Yes, it was well worth watch..... on about 3 different levels.... forgiveness, friendship, and love......
 
Thank you Cloudy...Abstruse mentioned above that you were away for a while.

I suppose you could conclude that I 'ventured outside my comfort zone' if you wish, but my interest is catholic in many areas, especially Native American as you know I am doing research.

In this particular piece, it was the poem that attracted my attention, but I think the subject was too intense for much comment, or at least I take that to be the reason.

One one level I thought perhaps the poem referred to the 'old ways' of Native American, a life portrayed in the chants and rituals that carry on the memories.

amicus...
 
I'm in the middle of reading Lone Ranger and Tonto Fistfight in Heaven. I have been for a while and I'm not ashamed to say that I think it's on an intellectual strata just above me. Very interesting book, even if it is the first one in a very long time that I'm not 100% sure I understand fully.

The Earl
 
The answer to the question:

"If we forgive our fathers, what is left?"

Is the same in any culture....... Peace of Mind...... Peace of Heart...... Peace of Spirit

It clears the path and makes it easier to walk.....
 
Ami, another Alexie movie that I can't recommend enough is The Business of Fancy Dancing. It's sort of deep, and disjointed, and one you have to pay very, very close attention to, but it highlights pretty much all of the issues facing American Indians in a very honest, brutal way. It had me in tears.
 
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