The World According to Raven
New Takes on Traditional Stories by Garth Stein
Inspired by the Artwork of Preston Singletary
Photography by Russell Johnson
Close your eyes now and listen to the rain. Listen to the wind.
That is how it sounded many years ago in a storm so powerful and forceful that even the eagles refused to leave their houses. Yet in this storm, Raven was out and about, for Raven thought it was important to check on his people and his World, even on the stormiest of nights, for Raven had taken great pains to give the World all that it needed, water and fire and light among many other things, noise-making insects and umbrellas and slugs and such. And so Raven was flying through the cold rain and hail, through the chilling gusts of freezing night air, and he felt then that the night was inhospitable even to him, and he looked for a place to shelter.
Storm
Blown and sand-carved glass with bronze branches
27" h x 27" w x 6" d
Raven’s First Dance Blown and sand-carved glass 20" h x 14" w x 19" d
Now it happens that Raven saw a dark hollow in the wooded slope of a mountain and Raven alit at the edge of that hollow and he looked into the darkness, and he saw nothing, so he stepped inside and out of the wind. As Raven ventured deeper into that cave, he could smell things, wet fur and fish and dry wood, and he could see by the light of a warm fire that he was in someone’s house, but since that someone was not home, Raven thought, he could make use of the house until such time he was asked to vacate. So he warmed himself by the fire. It was a nice fire and it warmed him well.
It was not long before the cave’s denizen, a rotund and cranky Bear, returned home to find Raven stealing the warmth from Bear’s fire. “Give me back my warmth!” Bear growled. He attempted to grab Raven and shake the warmth from him, but Raven leapt into the air and hopped away with such élan, Bear was impressed. “You are very clever, White Bird,” Bear said, for this was so long ago, before Raven had learned to color his feathers black, and for this reason, Bear did not know with whom he was contending. “But my bear nature will smother you eventually.” Bear chased Raven around like that for quite a while, getting his hands nearly around Raven’s neck only to have Raven duck away, spin and kick, and hold two-three-four. Soon, Bear grew so tired he hardly reached for Raven, but Raven still jab-stepped, jab-stepped, twirled and stag-leapt away, until Bear sat back and laughed. “You keep running, White Bird,” Bear said. “And I’m not even chasing you.”
“I’m not running,” replied Raven. “I’m dancing!”
“Dancing!” Bear cried. “Ho, ho! Dance, White Bird! Dance!”
And that was Raven’s First Dance. And we have been dancing ever since. Heh.
Bear was very pleased with his new friend, Raven, so he brought out a salmon he had been saving for dinner, and he roasted that salmon over the fire so they could feast. Now Raven was very hungry at the time, having been so cold and wet and then being so warm, but he worried that the salmon, which had not been seasoned before roasting, would be dry and flavorless. He glanced around Bear’s cave for salt and pepper but saw none.
Bear caught Raven looking around and said, “Fear not, White Bird Raven. Do not let your prejudices deceive you.” Then, with a long claw, Bear pricked the palm of his hand and squeezed some fat from his hand onto the roasting salmon, and the flavor swelled. Raven’s eyes grew wide. He ate that salmon, and it was the most delicious salmon he had ever eaten.
“You have taught me much, Bear. I am grateful.”
Bear felt a swelling of pride in his chest, for no one thanked Bear for anything.
Heh.
28" h x 20" w x 9.5" d
Raven is Always Hungry
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Raven Goes to Sleep
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17" h x 10" w x 2.5" d
When you wake up but do not awaken.
When you wake up and you know that you are asleep, that is when you are in Raven’s World, and that is when you can truly see the world as it is around you.
Heh.
It is like this when Raven sleeps sometimes:
Sometimes, a dream strikes him on his head, like a canoe strikes a rock in a river; however, while the rock in the river remains unmoved, Raven is perturbed.
A Canoe Enters the Dream Blown and sand-carved glass 15" h x 23" w x 8" d
Killer Whale Goes Ashore Blown and sand-carved glass
10.5" h x 21.5" w x 6.5" d
It is told in the Old Stories that Killer Whale often comes ashore and makes use of the land when no one is watching. The Old Stories tell of killer whales building fires and camping on the beach; it was not uncommon, in the Old Stories, to see an abandoned beach fire and, upon looking out to sea, notice a pod of killer whales swimming away, because they are very shy. So Raven was not surprised when he stumbled upon a freshly abandoned fire on the beach and saw a black canoe heading toward shore. Further, he was not surprised when that black canoe revealed itself to be a Killer Whale, who stepped out of the surf and approached him.
“Alas, my friend,” said Raven. “You come to see me in my domain. You must have something important. You must have a problem.”
“I am here to broker a truce,” said Killer Whale.
“A truce between who and whom?” replied Raven.
“Why, between you and us, Raven,” Killer Whale said. “We give up. Please stop the assault. We beg of you, set the terms of your treaty, tell us your demands, and we will capitulate entirely.”
Raven was astonished.
“But, friend, I don’t know about which you speak,” said Raven. “When have I ever assaulted you?”
“Your attack has been prolonged and vicious,” said Killer Whale, adding, “and strategic and overwhelming.
We are under constant attack from your evil troops. My people are afraid of you,” Killer Whale said. “We can’t live with what you’ve done to our ocean. The Great Pacific Garbage Patch is but one example; the assault is on so many fronts: microplastics, heavy metals, warming trends truly, we have seen the desecration of our habitat!”
“That’s as bad as it gets!” said Raven.
“... And can we talk about how you and your people are destroying the salmon, our main source of food?”
“Me?” said Raven. “That isn’t me! People are doing that!”
“Yes, your people are the hideous troops you employ against us ”
“They’re not my people! I hardly know them. I have little to do with them!”
“But you look like them!”
“Sometimes I look like them, that is true,” said Raven. “And it is true that I am half-person on my mother’s side. But that doesn’t mean I am a chronic environmental abuser!”
“If you’re not helping, you’re hurting,” Killer Whale said.
Is that true, wondered Raven? Do we live in such a world? Have we become so binary that if we are not actively helping, we are hurting?
Either all that thinking or the bump from the canoe made Raven’s head hurt.
Heh.
Into the Unknown, Blown and sand-carved glass
12" h x 24" w x 5" d
Raven flew away from that beach feeling consternated.
He felt somehow that Killer Whale had touched upon a greater truth, though he wasn’t sure what that truth was, or, indeed, whether it was true at all. Had he, Raven, desecrated anything?
In his flight, Raven happened upon Eagle, who, as it happens, had just captured a magnificent salmon in his talons and who was struggling with many decisions that needed his immediate attention, such as: 1). Do I have a strong enough grip on this squirmy, slimy fish? 2). Where shall I eat this delicious silver fish with red flesh? 3). Is this salmon going to drag me into the ocean and eat me? (Just kidding on that last one; an eagle would never think something like that.) Let it suffice to say: many things were vying for Eagle’s attention when Raven asked, “Oh, Eagle, is it true that if one is not helping, one is hurting?”
“I have no idea,” Eagle replied dismissively while Salmon squirmed and tried to break free.
“The question itself is reductive,” Salmon added, squirming again.
“Because Killer Whale says —” started Raven.
“I’m sorry, what?” Eagle snapped.
“Vis-à-vis the environment, specifically,” Raven said.
“Raven,” said Eagle, “if you want to help me with this salmon, you can join me in a feast. Otherwise, you are hurting my ability to have a good meal.”
“And if you’re not helping me escape,” Salmon added, “you’re definitely hurting. Just saying.”
“Maybe the question is too broad,” Raven said. “Regarding the Great Pacific Garbage Patch, specifically —”
“Raven!” Eagle and Salmon cried at once. “If you’re not helping, you’re hurting!”
“Okay, okay,” said Raven, and off he flew, knowing when he was unappreciated.
Raven thought it ironic that, in his moment of crisis, he should come across another creature in crisis, yet one was before him: it was a land otter man changing from a man into a land otter before Raven’s very eyes. Now “kushtaka” is the name given to the shape-shifting spirits who make their home in the deep forest and scavenge for lost souls. They are called this because their natural state is that of a land otter, “kushta,” and they often transform into a man, “ka.” A land otter person never wants to be caught changing states of being, because they are unable to speak or otherwise defend themselves when they are in transition.
In addition to issues of self-preservation, you can imagine the sounds of the bones cracking and synovial fluids slushing and splooshing nobody wants to witness that. Demurely, Raven averted his eyes and closed his ears until the unappetizing sounds had concluded.
Land Otter Person
Blown and sand-carved glass
10" h x 18" w x 8" d
“Oh, Friend Kushtaka,” Raven ventured once the Land Otter Man had assembled himself and was able to speak.
“Yes, Raven?” the kushtaka replied.
“I have an important philosophical conundrum to discuss with you, but first, I must ensure that you are capable of discussing metaphysical concepts at the highest level.”
“Yes, Raven?” the kushtaka repeated, for kushtaka are not known for their verbosity.
“If there is a chicken and there is an egg,” Raven began. “And if that chicken presumably came from an egg not that egg, but one just like it that was destroyed in the process and if that egg came from a chicken not that chicken, but a chicken just like it is it not true that the chicken is the egg, simply at a different moment in its existential trajectory?”
Land Otter Man thought for a moment.
“The egg,” he said.
“What egg?” Raven asked.
“The egg came first, and then the chicken.”
“But the egg came from a chicken,” Raven said, “and so the chicken preconceives the egg. How could an egg have been created without a chicken? Ergo and ipso facto, the chicken came first.”
“There was a beginning,” Land Otter Man said.
“Yes, there was,” Raven agreed. “But you must go very far back to find it. The question is, does the beginning preconceive the end? And if so, with which will we end: A chicken, or an egg?”
“In the beginning, there was an egg,” said Land Otter Man.
“So you’re sticking with Egg,” Raven said.
“If you’re not hurting,” Land Otter Man said to Raven, “you are helping.”
“Um,” began Raven, “I’ve always heard it the other way around.”
“You’re looking through the wrong end of the telescope,” said Land Otter Man.
Raven was surprised but pleased by this new bit of information.
“Interesting,” said Raven. “So instead of making the distant near, I am making the near more distant?”
Land Otter Man shrugged impassively.
“You are a master of the metaphysical,” Raven said. “I appreciate you.”
Land Otter Man felt his chest swell with pride, for no one appreciated him for anything.
Heh.
Spirit Helper Blown and sand-carved glass
9.5" h x 30" w x 6" d
Split Kelp Blown and sand-carved glass
20" h x 12" w x 3.5" d
Raven stood in a kelp forest beneath the waves.
He swayed with the tangle of syrupy brown kelp trees that grew up around him, with their tentacle-like arms reaching upward toward the light and their floppy dog-tongue appendages drifting in the current. And there, keeping them buoyant and erect, the kelp bulbs.
Raven used a saw made of teeth to cut into one of the kelp bulbs and discovered a ladder inside that led down to the bottom of the ocean. Raven climbed down that ladder and found a Killer Whale village on the ocean floor.
It looked like a human village, with a long house and huts and killer whales swimming about like people strolling. Raven went inside the longhouse and saw there a killer whale who was entirely white an albino killer whale. All Tlingit know that the white specimen of any animal is one that has Supernatural power.
“Raven,” Supernatural Killer Whale said, “what brings you to the bottom of the ocean?”
“As you may know,” Raven began, “one of your people told me that you killer whales are quite upset about the state of the ocean, as well you should be.”
“I am aware,” Supernatural Killer Whale said.
“Yes,” Raven continued. “After further reflection, I have decided that your problems lie outside of my purview. You see, I think you have a false idea about me and the powers that I may or may not have. You should think of me more as a First Mover. I start the ball rolling on things, and then those balls roll wherever they wish. And should those balls roll over things and break them or crush them flat, well, the balls are no longer in my control and so therefore, ipso facto, I bear no responsibility and therefore cannot be expected to fix those things that have been smashed flat and/or broken. I just want to state that for the record. And when I say ‘balls,’ you can substitute ‘people,’ or ‘humans.’”
“Raven,” Supernatural Killer Whale said, “You are the yin to my yang. The up to my down. The hot to my cold, the fast to my slow. You are the other side of my coin. You are the man in my mirror, the me who is not me.”
“I have no idea what you’re saying,” said Raven.
“We are separate, but we are the same,” said Supernatural Killer Whale. “What you do to me, you are doing to you.”
“But I’m not doing anything to you or me!” Raven cried. “That’s what I’m trying to tell you! It’s the People!”
“And you created the People,” Supernatural Killer Whale retorted.
“They are their own actors,” protested Raven. “I gave them free will!”
“A hunter gives his harpoon free will when he throws it, yet the intention is set by the hunter, not by the harpoon.”
“Oy,” Raven exclaimed. “You are one tough customer!”
“Keep searching, Raven,” said Supernatural Killer Whale. “You’ll get there.”
Heh.
Supernatural Killer Whale Blown and sand-carved glass 11" h x 9.75" w x 8.5" d
Trance Mask
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18" h x 10" w x 7" d
Now Raven knew of a great shaman who could teach Raven many things about the World and perhaps would give him a solution to the problem before him. So he ventured off into the woods, eventually arriving at a small hut with smoke trailing from the smoke hole. Raven knocked and opened the door and stepped inside. The air was warm and thick, and by the light of the fire, Raven could see the shaman dressed in his shaman garb with a skirt of cedar bark, a tattered smock of deer hides, and a crown of bear claws. He was dancing, this shaman, and Raven wondered if word had already spread about his new invention called Dancing, or if he had unknowingly tapped into something universal, or if he was in a time warp.
On his face, the shaman wore a trance mask, further upsetting Raven, who regretted not taking quick action to trademark and exploit the whole Dancing thing dance halls, discotheques, marathons. Raven never trusted a masked man, as masks conceal facial expressions and therefore limit non-verbal communication, which is mostly how meaning and nuance are conveyed.
The masked shaman danced closer to Raven, and Raven could see life in the shaman’s eyeballs but nowhere else, and Raven was frightened. The shaman removed his trance mask and placed it on Raven’s face, and Raven fell under the power of the mask.
Shamanic magic is nothing to be trifled with. It is well known that the uninitiated, when attempting to harness the Power of the Spirits, is often driven mad, or worse. The shaman handed Raven a powerful rattle depicting an Oystercatcher covering the eyes of a Hawk, suggesting that not all things are seen with the eyes. Thusly thrust into a shamanic state, thrust into a trance not of his own making, Raven began to dance.
“Dance, Black Bird Raven,” the shaman commanded. “Dance!”
to
Too Powerful
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22" h x 19" w x 6.5" d
Spirits Come on Their Own Accord
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28" h x 15.5" w x 15.5" d
The women who have been taken, who have been drugged and beaten and sold, who have been raped and murdered, who have vanished from the earth without a trace, without a care. The missing. The murdered. They come forward. They call for Raven. They need Raven’s help.
These are the things Raven saw when he was in his trance. He saw them stepping from the forest, walking toward him, calling to him. The teenagers, the women. The hardworking. The innocent. Shadows of their own spirits, shadows of the victims, the abused, the discarded, the lost, the stolen. They all came out of the woods that surrounded that shaman hut, they came out of the woods and gathered around Raven so he would remember them, so he would remember that they were his family, so that he would know that our connection to each other may be torn, but it is never severed. That we are all the same, but at different places in our existential trajectories. The pain felt by one will eventually be felt by all.
Ancestral Woman Blown and sand-carved glass
20" h x 17" w x 17" d
“Why do the People act so badly?” asked Raven of the shaman.
“Because they have not seen what you have seen,” said the shaman. “They think they are alone and separate and therefore matter little to the world at large, when in fact, every grain of sand is important to a beach.”
“That is a big concept,” said Raven. “Can we explain it to them?”
“The world is full of words,” said the Shaman, removing the Trance Mask from Raven’s face.
“Words allow us to communicate with each other,” Raven said.
“Words are full of lies,” said the shaman. “Words are lazy and sloppy. Words are used to deceive and mislead. Words convince you that what you are doing is right or wrong, or good or bad. Words distort and alter reality and truth. Words make up endless contradictory ideas that swarm with ferocity like flesh-eating gnats. Words are so confusing, People are overcome with despair and don’t know what to believe, so they believe nothing. When there are a thousand truths, there are no truths at all.”
“Ah,” said Raven. “I have an idea. I will steal all the words!”
Raven left the shaman and flew long and hard until he found a man who was speaking with words. Raven knocked down that man and jumped on his head.
“What are you doing?” the man cried.
“I am stealing your words so you can do no harm!” Raven yelled, and he grabbed the man’s tongue with his beak and pulled.
Raven pulled and pulled with all his might. The man’s tongue stretched, but it did not break off.
“Give me those words, you Contriver!” Raven shouted. “You Speaker of False Truths! Conveyer of Misinformation and Disinformation! You Demon of Rhetoric!”
Raven pulled. The man screamed. And the words?
The words were not in the man’s mouth, as Raven thought. And the tongue would not be pulled out, as Raven planned. So Raven grew tired and left the man, stunned, on the beach.
Gossip
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6.5" h x 20" dia
Raven’s Nest
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19" h x 13" w x 25" d
Listen to the rain. Listen to the wind.
That is what it sounded like as Raven returned to his home, a storm blowing in hard. When he returned to his house, Raven discovered a very annoying thing awaiting him: a little red bird, soaked to the bone, freezing and afraid, cowering in the corner of Raven’s nest. At first, Raven was irritated by his uninvited guest. Raven had been through much and he was tired and wanted some “me” time. Some alone time. He began to push the little red bird toward the door.
“Yeep,” the little red bird said, and Raven stopped. He remembered his own experience, when he sought refuge in Bear’s cave. Bear did not shuttle Raven out of the cave and into the rain; he welcomed Raven; he fed Raven; he restored Raven.
Raven said nothing, but left the little red bird alone in his corner, for Raven realized the little bird was likely frightened. Raven went to his fire pit and lit a fire. When the fire had been stoked and was giving off plenty of warmth, Raven left.
With Raven gone, the little red bird ventured out from the corner where he sat shivering. He inched closer to the warming fire until, slightly warmed, he grew bolder and moved closer still until he was fully warmed.
Raven returned then with a small trout, not big enough for a meal for two. Without a word, Raven prepared and cooked that trout over that fire while the little red bird watched, and when the trout was nearly finished, Raven held his hand over it. He pricked the palm of his claw with his beak and squeezed and squeezed. The fat of a Raven is not as abundant as the fat of a bear, but Raven did his best and squeezed a few drops of fat onto the trout and the hut came alive with the delicious smell of roasted fish.
Raven placed that roasted fish between himself and the little red bird. “All that I have, I give to you,” he said. And the two birds feasted together.
Raven understood, then, the despair of the Killer Whale and the People, the uncertainty, the fear. For when one is alone, a tiny grain of sand with no other sand to be seen, one can do nothing but despair. But when one is a grain of sand on a beach, one is part of a grand and magnificent and powerful adventure.
Raven went outside then. He spread his wings and gathered the People to him. The People came without words; they came with open hearts. Raven spread his great wings and wrapped them around his People, and he held his People tightly to his breast.
“All that I have,” said Raven, “I give to you.”
Gathering Powers
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20.5" h x 12" w x 8" d
Listen
to the World Blown and sand-carved glass
27.5" h x 13" w x 16" d
It is not likely that you will ever meet Raven, though he has met you.
For when you sleep, you dream, and those dreams prevent you from venturing into Raven’s realm. But one day you may sample a fish roasted with Bear fat, or even with Raven fat, and the part of you that lives deeper than a dream may remember this story and you may be confused by your feeling of certainty that we are not separate and distinct individuals, but we are all things, we are all connected by the mycelium of our souls. Like a mushroom, our human form is merely the fruit of the vast invisible web of spirituality that is our existence.
And so when Raven takes flight, he flies for us all. When Raven learns, he learns for us all. We have only to listen to the wind and listen to the rain to hear him calling to us, hoping that we will join him.
Heh.
Raven’s Adventures Blown and sand-carved glass
13" h x 24.5" w x 14" d
