Terri Cohlene

Little Firefly is forced to do all the work in her wigwam, in this retelling of an Algonquian tale, as her father is often away hunting, and her two older sisters - who cruelly nickname her "Little Burnt One" - refuse to do any cooking or cleaning. Scarred as a result of her time in front of the fire, Little Firefly has no hopes (unlike her sisters) of winning the great warrior, The Invisible One - who lives, together with his sister, across the lake from their village - as a husband. But show more when she rows across to offer herself as a servant, having grown tired of her mistreatment at home, and is able to see The Invisible One, with his rainbow bowstring, and his hunting strap made from the Milky Way, it turns out she is the one destined to be his wife...

This Algonquian variant of the widespread "Cinderella" story (the 'persecuted heroine' tale type, in the Aarne-Thompson folklore classification system), had also been retold by Rafe Martin as The Rough-Face Girl, and by Robert D. San Souci as Sootface. I cannot compare it to these other retellings, as I have not (yet!) read them, but I can say that this version, Little Firefly irritated me greatly! The fourth entry in the Native American Legends series that I have read by Terri Cohlene, it is the first to which I have given a one-star rating, although my estimation of the series, as a whole, has declined with each book read (I gave three stars to the first one I read, Clamshell Boy: A Makah Legend, and two stars each to Turquoise Boy: A Navajo Legend and Dancing Drum: A Cherokee Legend).

It's not simply that, as with her previous titles, Cohlene neglected to provide any source material for this story, although that certainly irritates me, and - in conjunction with other critiques of some of the books in this series - makes me wonder about issues of authenticity. This title also contained some grossly misleading information, in the factual afterword about the Algonquian people. Bad enough that all of the Iroquois nations were included in a confusing way in Cohlene's map of the Algonquian tribes (Um... hello? Linguistically the Iroquois nations are related to the Cherokee, who constitute the southern branch of the Iroquoian language family; historically, they were enemies of the Algonquian peoples), but Cohlene also includes a reference to the Battle of Wounded Knee in her timeline!

No, Terri Cohlene, the horrific massacre that occurred at Wounded Knee was not a 'battle,' and any slack I was going to cut you, because the aforementioned map may not have been deliberately confusing (there is a subtle distinction made between the Algonquian and Iroquoian names, one being in bold, and slightly larger - a distinction that will probably fly over most young readers' heads), went right out the door when I saw that. Just... no. No, no, no! No, this book is NOT recommended. show less

Renowned - despite her young age - for her skill with a needle, Quillworker is prompted by a series of dreams to create seven beautiful war-shirts, and the breechclouts, leggings, moccasins, and gauntlets to go with them. Prompted again by her dreams, the young Cheyenne girl sets out for a distant lodge, where she knows that seven brothers are waiting to welcome her as their sister. All goes well, for a time, until the buffalo people appear, and demand Quillworker for themselves. When the show more seven brothers refuse to surrender their new sister, they find themselves under attack, and must climb into the sky to escape destruction, eventually becoming the constellation known as the Big Dipper.

A pourquoi tale explaining the origins of a well-known constellation, the story to be found in Terri Cohlene's Quillworker has also been retold by Paul Goble, in his picture-book, Her Seven Brothers, and features as one storytelling 'episode' (The Legend of Quillwork Girl And Her Seven Star Brothers) in the made-for-television film, Dreamkeeper. It also happens to be the last of Terri Cohlene's six folkloric adaptations, all part of the Native American Legends series, that I have read. I can't tell you how glad I am to be done with them!

As with all of Cohlene's other entries in the series - Turquoise Boy, Little Firefly, Dancing Drum, Clamshell Boy, and Ka-Ha-Si and The Loon - this title's lack of attribution, its omission of any reference to the source material used, greatly irritated me. That happens to be one thing that I particularly look for, in folkloric adaptations, and while I understand that older works of this nature might not include such information, I find it difficult to overlook its absence, in a book published in 1990. Unfortunately, the trouble with Quillworker doesn't end there, as the book also includes - as did Little Firefly - a reference in the time-line at the rear, to the Battle of Wounded Knee. As mentioned in my review of Little Firefly, I find this terminology utterly unacceptable, as it whitewashes a tragic, and very shameful episode in American history. To add insult to injury, this particular time-line also includes a reference to the Battle of Sand Creek!

One more time, all together: No, Terri Cohlene, these weren't battles. Battles are what happen when two military forces meet and engage. When military forces kill non-combatants, we call that a massacre. Or mass murder. Or a war crime. When the military force in question proceeds to mutilate the dead bodies of its victims (as was done at Sand Creek, where approximately 66% of the dead were women and children), we call that a bizarrely perverse atrocity. See the difference? Get it straight! show less

Grandmother Sun becomes angry with the People of the Mountain in this Cherokee folktale, believing that they prefer her brother, the Moon. The unrelenting heat and light that she directs at the earth, in consequence, cause such suffering amongst the People, that a young boy named Dancing Drum sets out for the Land of the Sky People, determined to put an end to it. His efforts backfire, however, when his attack (in snake form) inadvertently targets the Sun's daughter, rather than the Sun show more herself. Now, with the Sun in mourning for her slain daughter, and refusing to leave her dwelling, the People suffer from the cold. Can Dancing Drum set things right, by retrieving the Sun's daughter from the Land of the Spirits...?

I had mixed feelings about this folkloric adaptation - the second title by Terri Cohlene, following upon Clamshell Boy: A Makah Legend, that I have read - and am starting to feel a little dubious about the series, Native American Legends, in general. As with the other books in the series, the tale itself is followed by a factual introduction to the people from which it comes (the Cherokee, in this case). I was happy to see that, unlike Clamshell Boy, this one included a section on the people of today, rather than consigning them entirely to history (as is so commonly done with Native Americans, in children's books).

Unfortunately, Cohlene provided no source material for her story, and after reading a scathing review of another entry in the series (Sunflower's Promise: A Zuni Legend, admittedly by a different author) which appears to have factually incorrect information in the afterword, and a distorted telling of the tale itself, I'd really like to know where Cohlene got her version of this tale. Also, I was rather irritated at the continued use of the word 'shaman' in the story, to describe the Cherokee elder who advises Dancing Drum, as I know it is a problematic term, in this context, and offensive to many Native Americans. I do intend to read the rest of Cohlene's folkloric retellings (she penned six altogether), but my skepticism as to their authenticity is growing with each title. show less

One of Terri Cohlene's six contributions to the larger Native American Legends series - I have also read her Clamshell Boy: A Makah Legend and Dancing Drum: A Cherokee Legend - this book sets out the traditional Navajo tale (so I assume - see below for more details) of Turquoise Boy, one of Changing Woman's two sons, who goes on a quest to find a way to make life easier for the People. Seeking aid from the Talking Gods of the White Shell Mountain of the East, the Turquoise Mountain of the show more South, the Yellow Abalone Shell Mountain of the West, and the Black Jet Mountain of the North, Turquoise Boy finds himself the recipient of many gifts, but no answers to his question. Even his father, the Sun Bearer, seems unable to help him. Then Turquoise Boy happens upon Mirage Man, and with his gifts - and his mother's help - he brings a wonderful new helper into the world for the People: the horse.

Unfortunately, as with Cohlene's other folkloric retellings, I couldn't find any mention of source material in Turquoise Boy, although there is an entire page for photo credits, at the rear. A list of further reading ideas - both factual and folkloric - and a discussion of where the author found her stories (a Native storyteller? a written collection of tales?) would add a great deal to the books in this series, and the absence of such material really made me wonder. I'd like to take it on trust that this is an authentic retelling, rather than a derivative and exploitative rip-off, but given the poor track record, when it comes to the presentation of Native American material in children's books, I feel rather skeptical. As mentioned above, this is my third Cohlene title, which means I have three yet to read (I currently have all six checked out of the library) - so we'll see whether the others have the same problem. show less