Right Story, Wrong Story: How to Have Fearless Conversations in Hell – Indigenous Tools for Bridging Social Divides Through Dialogue and Deep Listening
Continuing the work of the well-received Sand Talk, Tyson Yunkaporta casts an Indigenous lens on contemporary society, challenging us to find our way onto the right track.
Sand Talk, Tyson Yunkaporta’s bestselling debut, cast an Indigenous lens on contemporary society. It was, said Melissa Lucashenko, "an extraordinary invitation into the world of the Dreaming."
Right Story, Wrong Story extends Yunkaporta’s explorations of how we can learn from Indigenous thinking. Along the way, he talks to a range of people including liberal economists, memorization experts, Frisian ecologists, and Elders who are wood carvers, mathematicians and storytellers.
Right Story, Wrong Story describes how our relationship with land is inseparable from how we relate to each other. This book is a sequence of thought experiments, which are, as Yunkaporta writes, "crowd-sourced narratives where everybody’s contribution to the story, no matter how contradictory, is honored and included…the closest thing I can find in the world to the Aboriginal collective process of what we call 'yarning.'"
And, as he argues, story is at the heart of everything. But what is right or wrong story? This exhilarating book is an attempt to answer that question. Right Story, Wrong Story is a formidably book about how we teach and learn, and how we can talk to each other to shape forms of collective thinking that are aligned with land and creation.
Tyson Yunkaporta is an academic, an arts critic, and a researcher who is a member of the Apalech Clan in far north Queensland. He carves traditional tools and weapons and also works as a senior lecturer in Indigenous Knowledges at Deakin University in Melbourne. He lives in Melbourne.
Stop here and just get this book and read it. Audiobook would be cool because, in his own voice, the humour and self-deprecation comes through loud and clear. But it’s still there in the text - a devastating but somehow still encouraging journey that is a descent into the various circles of a downunder Dante’s Inferno, that is still very much all of our hells whether we may be hell-creators, fellow-travellers or hell-survivors or (more probably) all of the above. It begins with some wonderful “yarning” with kin close and more geographically distant that nuance and complicate the familiar narrative of those eager to treat indigenous knowledge as an extractive resource to inform a kinder, gentler colonial “machine-gun hand”, but then engages more directly with the author’s more personal descent into these difficult journeys, the cost to him and all of his kin. But the long-term cost to us all in attaching so blindly to Wrong Story is always clear and present, as are the enduring if fleeting, often ghost-like manifestations of Right Story if we could pay attention to the land and the Lore (such as remains). Looking forward to Snake Talk, the next in the trilogy.
This book felt like a Hieronymus Bosch painting in a rant format. It's beautifully saturated, intense, angry and gentle at the same time.
Or like an Arthouse movie that doesn't have a plot that you could describe to someone you'd recommend it to, but you definitely would want them to watch it.
Or like bouldering/climbing for the first time, when the next day you notice soreness in muscles, you weren't even aware you had.
It's intinate and (in)formative at the same time. It doesn't demand or expect anything of you, and yet you find yourself wanting to move mountains.
The idea of connecting/describing objects/weapons that he associates with specific societal issue clusters makes it come alive in a 5D animistic way. It tickles more senses, than one is used to when reading.
I fell in love with this guy a bit, and, sure, it's more about what he stands for, not the person per se, so now I'm "braiding" my own traditional whip (in my culture we use wips, not boomerangs) thinking about right stories to tell... I'd thank him for the inspiration, if I could.
My biggest frustration with this book is its lack of clear focus. Yunkaporta attempts to weave together a vast tapestry of ideas – critiquing capitalism, colonialism, and Western thought, while simultaneously exploring indigenous perspectives on sustainability, governance, and interconnectedness. Certainly all of these are vital conversations, but the book often feels like a collection of loosely connected vignettes and philosophical musings rather than a cohesive thesis. What Yunkaporta calls "adventures in Indigenous thinking" comes across more like a disorienting ramble, leaving me struggling to grasp the central thread that ties these disparate discussions together.
Yunkaporta’s style, which often leans into the anecdotal and the abstract, comes across as opaque and self-indulgent. The "right story" he aims to tell is frequently obscured by meandering prose and a reluctance to define key concepts clearly. Invariably, I found it difficult to make sense of what he was talking about. The very premise of "right story" versus "wrong story" feels overly simplistic, potentially reducing complex global challenges to a binary that doesn't fully acknowledge nuance or the multifaceted nature of societal problems.
Yunkaporta claims to engage in critique of "Western" systems, but his writing lacks specificity and depth. Rather it is filled with broad generalizations about "Western thought" or "capitalist narratives," and to me this ammounts to offering strawman arguments; he seems uninterested in engaging with the diversity and complexity within these traditions. Again, he claims to challenge "dominant paradigms," but the execution can feel more like a blanket dismissal than a constructive deconstruction. The indigenous alternatives presented are not always presented with the clarity or practical applicability.
Failing in his attempt to enable the reader to extract actionable insights, Yunkaporta simply left me lost and struggling in the narrative brambles.
This is an excellent read which explores many issues plaguing our society, many of which boil down to misinformation and the narrative. Yson Yunkaporta explores each of issues through a variety of angles, all of which feel personal and authentic. The most interesting thing Yunkaporta brings is an Indigenous perspective to these issues, though he does so with context and nuance which add a much-needed layer of understanding to the issues presented.
If I had one criticism, it's that some of it went over my head, but this isn't a dig against the author at all. I just felt there was far too much wisdom in this book to absorb in one sitting. It remains a book I steadfastly recommend - and one I look to reading again soon.
When the conceit of this book works, it's fantastic, but there are definitely points where Yunkaporta is forcing the narrative into the frame which start to feel like unintentional wrong story. The overall framing of right story/wrong story works fairly well, though, and Yunkaporta is--as always--refreshingly vulnerable and honest. If you enjoyed Sand Talk, you'll likely enjoy this too, but it is a very different book.
I had a difficult time holding the thread while listening to the audiobook. I would like to read it with my eyes to see if that helps because I think there’s potential a strong thread that could change my perspective.