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A review by dreamgalaxies
White Magic by Elissa Washuta
4.0
Living inside narratives means becoming an insight machine, and I am tired of realizing—that word is a lie.
3.5 stars.
Washuta talks a lot about magic in terms of synchronicity, and I found a lot of it here for myself, as well. I am a fairly casual witch, finding meaning in the cycles of the moon and my own inner landscape. My love for Twin Peaks is so strong that I have a tattoo inspired by it, and in college I scoffed audibly at anyone who mixed up Christopher Nolan's The Prestige with Neil Burger's The Illusionist (basically everyone, to be fair). Imagine my surprise to find epigraphs from both introducing the same essay. In general, Washuta and I have a lot in common. Seems like we both spend a lot of time thinking about stories, symbols, and what they can tell us about ourselves. I, too, am a person who lives with trauma.
In both heritage (she's Cowlitz) and history, it's clear the Pacific Northwest is important to the author--which was compelling as a ten year resident of Portland, unceded Chinook Land. I've spent a lot of time thinking about the 'pioneering spirit' West Coasters love to glorify, and what that really says about us.
There's quite a lot going on in this book. I loved the layered pop culture references, the indigenous history and references to ancestors of blood and place, and the prose. I highlighted so many poignant lines while reading this book. There are a lot of deep, hard-won revelations here about trauma and addiction. I also enjoyed a lot of the meta commentary offered regarding life vs. the arc of a story, and our struggles to find meaning in our lives.
However, something about the way this book was organized didn't quite gel for me. I re-read a few parts to try to figure out what it was. It wasn't the repetition, which I questioned at first because I know it is a hallmark of indigenous storytelling that outsiders often struggle with--and which Washuta draws our attention to clearly:
By telling stories over and over, we give them life. By enacting narratives over and over, we give them shape...Do you think a person’s relationship with repetition is culturally shaped?
It just never quite cohered as a narrative and ultimately felt disjointed. I think it made it harder to get into the first half of the book, and it took me longer than I wanted to read than I expected. The self analysis also felt a bit...unfinished, as well as repetitive. Like she had to finish the book before she'd finished the journey. That's life, I suppose, but it's too bad.
Still, Washuta pulls things off I never thought would work--like the surprisingly deep meditation on the parallel path of salving loneliness and finding meaning through games, from Oregon Trail to Red Dead Redemption 2 to Pokemon Go (all of which I've played...perhaps we really are doppelgängers). The Oregon Trail essay was a standout.
I also think this book was marketed somewhat incorrectly as a book about white appropriation in spiritual communities and/or the impact of capitalism on indigenous beliefs. Somewhat understandably, indigenous spiritual practices are not covered almost at all in this book--but I wished magic was discussed with more depth. I do think the misapprehensions as to what the book is about accounts for some of the less positive reviews here. I also think many people might just struggle with the pain of watching the repetitively messy and vulnerable behavior of a traumatized person--but that's sort of the point ;) However, the author also engages in a little bit of playful mismarketing herself as she asserts--and then questions--that this book is about her "becoming a powerful witch."
In any case, I'm glad I read it. It's unique and I hope more books like this get published.
Content Warnings: severe alcoholism, rape, partner abuse, historical violence, mental health, PTSD, white supremacy and indigenous genocide.
3.5 stars.
Washuta talks a lot about magic in terms of synchronicity, and I found a lot of it here for myself, as well. I am a fairly casual witch, finding meaning in the cycles of the moon and my own inner landscape. My love for Twin Peaks is so strong that I have a tattoo inspired by it, and in college I scoffed audibly at anyone who mixed up Christopher Nolan's The Prestige with Neil Burger's The Illusionist (basically everyone, to be fair). Imagine my surprise to find epigraphs from both introducing the same essay. In general, Washuta and I have a lot in common. Seems like we both spend a lot of time thinking about stories, symbols, and what they can tell us about ourselves. I, too, am a person who lives with trauma.
In both heritage (she's Cowlitz) and history, it's clear the Pacific Northwest is important to the author--which was compelling as a ten year resident of Portland, unceded Chinook Land. I've spent a lot of time thinking about the 'pioneering spirit' West Coasters love to glorify, and what that really says about us.
There's quite a lot going on in this book. I loved the layered pop culture references, the indigenous history and references to ancestors of blood and place, and the prose. I highlighted so many poignant lines while reading this book. There are a lot of deep, hard-won revelations here about trauma and addiction. I also enjoyed a lot of the meta commentary offered regarding life vs. the arc of a story, and our struggles to find meaning in our lives.
However, something about the way this book was organized didn't quite gel for me. I re-read a few parts to try to figure out what it was. It wasn't the repetition, which I questioned at first because I know it is a hallmark of indigenous storytelling that outsiders often struggle with--and which Washuta draws our attention to clearly:
By telling stories over and over, we give them life. By enacting narratives over and over, we give them shape...Do you think a person’s relationship with repetition is culturally shaped?
It just never quite cohered as a narrative and ultimately felt disjointed. I think it made it harder to get into the first half of the book, and it took me longer than I wanted to read than I expected. The self analysis also felt a bit...unfinished, as well as repetitive. Like she had to finish the book before she'd finished the journey. That's life, I suppose, but it's too bad.
Still, Washuta pulls things off I never thought would work--like the surprisingly deep meditation on the parallel path of salving loneliness and finding meaning through games, from Oregon Trail to Red Dead Redemption 2 to Pokemon Go (all of which I've played...perhaps we really are doppelgängers). The Oregon Trail essay was a standout.
I also think this book was marketed somewhat incorrectly as a book about white appropriation in spiritual communities and/or the impact of capitalism on indigenous beliefs. Somewhat understandably, indigenous spiritual practices are not covered almost at all in this book--but I wished magic was discussed with more depth. I do think the misapprehensions as to what the book is about accounts for some of the less positive reviews here. I also think many people might just struggle with the pain of watching the repetitively messy and vulnerable behavior of a traumatized person--but that's sort of the point ;) However, the author also engages in a little bit of playful mismarketing herself as she asserts--and then questions--that this book is about her "becoming a powerful witch."
In any case, I'm glad I read it. It's unique and I hope more books like this get published.
Content Warnings: severe alcoholism, rape, partner abuse, historical violence, mental health, PTSD, white supremacy and indigenous genocide.