Re-Charting the Literary Landscape: Turtle Island in Contemporary Fiction
For centuries, maps of North America have borne names imposed by European colonizers: America, Canada, the United States. Yet, beneath these familiar designations, a profound and ancient understanding of the continent endures, gaining powerful traction in contemporary literature: Turtle Island. Far more than a mere alternative name, Turtle Island represents a worldview, a spiritual connection to the land, and a resilient assertion of Indigenous sovereignty and identity. In modern fiction, particularly within the burgeoning field of Indigenous literature, this concept is not just a backdrop but a living, breathing character, reshaping narratives, challenging colonial perspectives, and offering a vital path toward decolonization and healing.
The genesis of Turtle Island lies in the creation stories of numerous Indigenous nations across the continent, including the Haudenosaunee, Anishinaabe, Lenape, and others. While narratives vary, a common thread describes a great flood, and a benevolent turtle offering its back as a foundation upon which the land was formed, often with the help of a muskrat or other water creature diving to bring up earth. This foundational myth imbues the land with sacredness, establishing a deep, reciprocal relationship between humans and the environment, where the land is not a resource to be exploited but a living entity, a mother, a source of life and identity. To speak of Turtle Island is to acknowledge this ancient history, these spiritual covenants, and the enduring presence of the continent’s original peoples.
In contemporary fiction, the invocation of Turtle Island is a deliberate and potent act of narrative reclamation. It is a linguistic and conceptual decolonization, a rejection of the colonial cartography that erased Indigenous names and histories. Authors like Waubgeshig Rice, whose post-apocalyptic novel Moon of the Crusted Snow implicitly frames its survival narrative within an Anishinaabe worldview on ancestral lands, demonstrate how the spirit of Turtle Island guides character actions and community resilience. While Rice may not explicitly use the term "Turtle Island" on every page, his narrative embodies its principles: a deep connection to the land, reliance on traditional knowledge, and the perseverance of community in the face of collapse – a collapse often seen as a consequence of severed ties to the land.
This narrative re-centering is crucial for challenging the dominant settler-colonial narratives that often portray Indigenous peoples as relics of the past or as minor characters in a story not their own. As Indigenous scholar Daniel Heath Justice (Tlingit) eloquently states, "The land is not just a place, it is a way of life." Contemporary fiction brings this "way of life" to the forefront, making the land an active participant in the story, rather than a passive setting.
One of the most prominent themes explored through the lens of Turtle Island is environmentalism and land stewardship. The Indigenous worldview inherently understands the interconnectedness of all life and the responsibility to care for the Earth for future generations. This stands in stark contrast to the exploitative practices often associated with industrial societies. Authors like Cherie Dimaline (Métis), in her award-winning novel The Marrow Thieves, set in a dystopian future where non-Indigenous people have lost the ability to dream and are hunting Indigenous people for their bone marrow (which supposedly holds dreams), vividly illustrates the consequences of severing one’s connection to the land. The Indigenous characters, navigating a ravaged landscape, survive by relying on traditional knowledge, community, and an unshakeable bond with the natural world – a bond rooted in the teachings of Turtle Island. Their very survival is predicated on understanding the land’s rhythms and respecting its boundaries.
Similarly, spiritual and cultural resilience forms a core pillar. Despite centuries of attempted cultural erasure, residential schools, and systemic oppression, Indigenous traditions, languages, and ceremonies have endured. Fiction set on Turtle Island often celebrates this tenacity, depicting characters who draw strength from their ancestors, their spiritual practices, and their connection to specific places. Tommy Orange’s There There (Cheyenne and Arapaho), while set in urban Oakland, pulsates with the echoes of ancestral lands and stories. The characters, though navigating modern challenges, are profoundly shaped by their heritage and the historical traumas and triumphs tied to their peoples’ long presence on Turtle Island. The urban landscape itself becomes a site where Indigenous stories are re-told and reclaimed, blurring the lines between concrete and ancient earth.
The exploration of identity and belonging is another vital facet. For Indigenous peoples, identity is inextricably linked to land, lineage, and community. Fiction set on Turtle Island often delves into the complexities of what it means to be Indigenous in the 21st century, navigating a world shaped by both ancestral wisdom and colonial legacies. Katherena Vermette’s The Strangers (Métis) explores intergenerational trauma and resilience within a single family, anchored by their deep roots in a specific northern community – a microcosm of Turtle Island. The characters’ struggles and triumphs are always understood within the context of their ancestral lands and the ongoing fight for self-determination.
Beyond Indigenous authors, a growing number of non-Indigenous writers and publishers are beginning to acknowledge and engage with the concept of Turtle Island, albeit with necessary caution and respect. This broader recognition signals a shift in the literary landscape, moving towards a more inclusive and truthful representation of the continent’s history and present. Educational institutions and literary organizations are also increasingly using the term, signaling a wider public embrace of this crucial Indigenous perspective. However, it’s paramount that this engagement avoids appropriation, prioritizing Indigenous voices and ensuring that the stories are told by and for the communities they represent.
The impact of Turtle Island narratives in contemporary fiction cannot be overstated. They serve as powerful tools for education, challenging readers to re-evaluate their understanding of history, geography, and their relationship to the land. They foster empathy, offering profound insights into the lived experiences of Indigenous peoples, their enduring cultures, and their ongoing struggles for justice and self-determination. By centering Indigenous worldviews, these stories contribute significantly to the broader movement of decolonization, not just in literature, but in society at large. They invite readers to consider a different way of being in the world, one characterized by reciprocity, respect, and a deep reverence for the Earth.
Ultimately, Turtle Island in contemporary fiction is more than a geographical descriptor; it is a declaration of presence, a repository of ancient wisdom, and a blueprint for a more sustainable and equitable future. As the literary world continues to grapple with issues of representation and historical truth, the narratives emerging from and about Turtle Island stand as essential guides, illuminating paths toward understanding, healing, and a deeper, more profound connection to the land beneath our feet. These stories remind us that the maps we carry in our minds are just as important as those we hold in our hands, and that re-charting our mental landscapes is the first step toward true reconciliation and a more just world.
