Kiska's home in the Aleutian Islands is a peaceful paradise until Japan invades in 1942. Soon after, a US naval ship arrives to evacuate everyone in her village to an internment camp almost 2,000 miles away—where they are forgotten. Informed by true events, this is the story of a teenage girl who steps up when her people need a hero.
John E. Smelcer is the poetry editor of Rosebud magazine and the author of more than forty books. He is an Alaskan Native of the Ahtna tribe, and is now the last tribal member who reads and writes in Ahtna.
His forthcoming novel, LONE WOLVES is being partially funded via an Indiegogo campaign. Check out this video and the unusual gifts offered. Among them, you can choose an autographed, numbered, limited-edition print of an award-winning poem by the author, with original artwork; you can have your name used for a character in the author's next book. http://igg.me/at/Leapfrog-Press/x/399...
Smelcer's first novel, The Trap, was an American Library Association BBYA Top Ten Pick, a VOYA Top Shelf Selection, and a New York Public Library Notable Book. The Great Death was short-listed for the 2011 William Allen White Award, and nominated for the National Book Award, the BookTrust Prize (England), and the American Library Association's Award for American Indian YA Literature. His Alaska Native mythology books include The Raven and the Totem (introduced by Joseph Campbell). His short stories, poems, essays, and interviews have appeared in hundreds of magazines, and he is winner of the 2004 Milt Kessler Poetry Book Award and of the 2004 Western Writers of America Award for Poetry for his collection Without Reservation, which was nominated for a Pulitzer. John divides his time between a cabin in Talkeetna, the climbing capitol of Alaska, where he wrote much of Lone Wolves, and Kirksville Mo., where he is a visiting scholar in the Department of Communications Studies at Truman State University.
Smelcer is a prolific writer and poet whose many works focus primarily on subjects related to his Native American heritage. An Ahtna Athabaskan Indian, he also serves as executive director of the Ahtna tribe's Heritage Foundation. He is, noted a biographer on the Center for the Art of Translation Web site, the only surviving reader, speaker, and writer of the native Ahtna language. John holds degrees in anthropology and archaeology, linguistics, literature, and education. He also holds a PhD in English and creative writing from Binghamton University, and formerly chaired the Alaska Native Studies program at the University of Alaska Anchorage.
In the Shadows of Mountains: Ahtna Stories from the Copper River contains a collection of twenty-four stories from the Ahtna tribe. The stories consist of material by Ahtna elders and other tales told to Smelcer by his Ahtna relatives. These largely mythical stories "explore the processes that formed this world and created people, animals, places, and the distinctive interactions" between humans and nonhumans in legendary times, noted James Ruppert in MELUS. The tales range from stories common throughout Alaska, such as "The Blind Man and the Lion," to distinctly Ahtna stories specific to individual families and clans, such as "When They Killed the Monkey People." Ruppert concluded that Smelcer's book "has some value as a broad introduction to Ahtna narrative aimed at a general reader."
The Trap, Smelcer's first novel, is an "unforgettable survival tale, with both a life and a culture in the balance," commented Vicky Smith in Horn Book Magazine. Septuagenarian Albert Least-Weasel still clings to the old ways he has known all his life. While checking his traplines one cold winter day, Albert gets caught in one of his own wolf traps. Unable to reach his store of supplies, Albert faces certain death by exposure, dehydration, or animal attack, unless he can free himself or is rescued. At home, Albert's seventeen-year-old grandson Johnny becomes increasingly worried about his grandfather's welfare. Despite his best efforts, he is unable to generate much concern for the old man from his uncles, and cultural pride and the unwillingness to disrespect his elders prevents him from setting out on a search until his grandmother asks him to find her husband. By then, however,
**edited to add update on Smelcer's character saying that baidarka is their (Aleut) word for kayak. It isn't. See update on Nov 12, below.**
Published by Leapfrog Press, John Smelcer's Kiska was released in November of 2017. I'll start by saying I do not recommend Kiska. Back in September when I received an advanced reader copy of Smelcer's book, I tweeted as I read it. Last week, Melissa S. Green sent me an in-depth review of his book. Rather than repeat what she said in her excellent review, I'm going to focus on a couple of things: the seal story and the dramatic character of Smelcer's story.
First, though, some background.
My guess is that most people do not know that Native peoples of Alaska were removed from their villages during World War II. In fact, most people don't know much about the Indigenous people of Alaska.
As I began the background research to review Kiska, I wrote to colleagues and writers in Alaska to ask about the internment of the Aleut people. I learned that the preferred name for the people I was asking about is Unangan. One resource I was pointed to is The Alaska Native Reader (2009), edited by Maria Sháa Tláa Williams. Here's a paragraph (note especially the last few words) (Kindle Locations 62-66):
"The history of Alaska is often told from the perspective of outsiders and those who view the resources of Alaska as amazing treasures to exploit. There are stories of eighteenth-century Russian fur hunters, of the brave miners who came to Alaska in the late nineteenth century to discover gold, of the companies that developed salmon canneries, and, in the twentieth century, of the oil companies that worked together to build the Trans-Alaska Pipeline, one of the engineering marvels of the twentieth century. These stories are often highlighted and even exalted, yet one must ask what was the impact on the indigenous people."
When I review a children's book, I consider impact. What will the content of a book do to Native children, particularly the children who are of the identity the characters are meant to be. Will it accurately reflect their people, past and present, and their experiences--good and bad? And, what will a book do to non-Native children? Will it give them reliable information about the people who are depicted in the book? The answers to those questions are why I do not recommend Kiska.
****
Let's start with the description (from Amazon):
"Kiska’s home in the Aleutian Islands is a peaceful paradise until Japan invades in 1942. Soon after, a U.S. naval ship arrives to evacuate everyone in her village to an internment camp almost 2,000 miles away—where they are forgotten. Informed by true events, this is the story of a teenage girl who steps up when her people need a hero."
----- My review:
In chapter one, we meet Kiska as a grandmother who is telling her 13-year-old granddaughter what happened to her in 1942 when she was 13 years old. Kiska speaks to her granddaughter in a way that suggests that the granddaughter knows little, if anything, about being Aleut and nothing about 1942. Making the granddaughter ignorant makes it possible for the author (Smelcer) to write for a similarly ignorant audience of readers.
On page 16, for example, Kiska says that their word for kayak is baidarka. We can read that as her attempt to teach her granddaughter their language, but she only uses baidarka that one time. After that, Kiska uses kayak. If part of what Kiska/Smelcer are doing is to teach some Indigenous words using story, it would have been appropriate to use baidarka throughout, rather than revert to kayak.
Update, Nov 12, 6:00 AM--I shared this review on Facebook. There, I received an immediate comment that baidarka is a Russian word. That individual is correct. The Unangan word for kayak is iqyax. I consulted several sources, including Smelcer's Alutiiq Dictionary, published in 2011. On page 44, he writes that "the word baidarka is of Russian origin, while the Unangan (Aleut) word is Igyax." Why did Smelcer's character say baidarka is the Aleut word? He clearly knows otherwise.
Right away in chapter one, the story moves from Kiska-the-grandma to Kiska-the-teen. There's one point where Kiska's uncle is skinning a seal. She pleads excitedly with him to tell her, again, "the story of the first seals" (p. 18). In his story, a beautiful young girl is of age to marry. Many of the men in the village want to marry her. One night a man goes into her room and "forced himself on her" (p. 18). Because it is dark, she doesn't know who it is. This happens several nights in a row. One night, she decides to scratch his face so she'll see, in the morning, who it is. It turns out to be her brother. "In her great shame" (p. 19) she throws herself in the sea and is transformed into the first female seal. Her brother, either because he loved her so much or because he was ashamed of himself, also jumps off the cliff and is transformed into the first male seal. "All seals thereafter came from the two of them" (p. 19).
Generally speaking, when Native people tell stories to children and teens, there is a purpose or context for the particular story they choose to tell. Native writers who incorporate Native stories into their books usually have a context for a character to tell that particular story. I read through these pages in Kiska several times and can't figure out why Kiska's uncle would have chosen to tell that story to her in the first place, and then why Kiska would ask for it again when her uncle is skinning a seal. It strikes me as an unusual story. It is about rape and incest, and the outcome of is the creation of all seals. Having seals is a good. But I don't understand how a good is the outcome of rape and incest. It doesn't make sense to me. What will readers come away with? I don't know. I do wonder, though, about the backstory for Kiska's uncle telling that particular story? What was he trying to teach her, and why?
In fact, Kiska wonders about that story, too. After her uncle tells her the story, Kiska thinks about how she's always been uncomfortable with the ending because it "seemed to me that the wicked brother got his desire to be with his sister." She'd heard another version, where the brother and sister become the first sea otters. What, she wonders, "was to be learned from such stories? That life is unfair? Our stories weren't like the fairy tales I heard at school with their tidy, happy endings" (p. 21).
True enough, Native stories aren't like English ones. They've often been misinterpreted by outsiders. As someone who says he's gathered stories from elders, it seems to me that Smelcer would take care in using them, especially when he's telling them (through his characters) to an audience that isn't Unangan.
Curious to see what I might learn about Aleut stories--and this one in particular--I started looking for it. In other tellings, the story is about sea otters who, once transformed, swim away from each other. Unangam Ungiikangin kayux Tunusangin • Unangam Uniikangis ama Tunuzangis • Aleut Tales and Narratives, has stories collected by Waldemar Jochelson in 1909 and 1910. Edited by Knut Bergsland and Moses L. Dirks, it was published in 1990 by the Alaska Native Language Center at the University of Alaska, Fairbanks. Story #42 is "Aatluung." Story #58 is similar. There's a brief note that the stories are similar to others meant to teach that incest is unacceptable.
In #42, Aatluung's sister is having her menstrual period alone in a separate house. When darkness came, a man would go in her house and "play with her [sexually]" (p. 325). Trying to figure out who he might be, she tore his parka one night and the next day, learned that the only person with a torn parka was her brother, Aatluung. That night, after the man played with her and was leaving, she thrust her knife in him from behind. The next morning, she heard weeping and learned that people were weeping for her brother, who was dead. She bathed, put on her parka, cut it open in front, and went over to where her brother was lying. "Get up to see the two [vulva] that prevented you from sleeping!" When she said that, his foot moved. She said it again and he got up, took hold of her and went out, to the shore. Their mother, crying, followed them but before she could reach them, they were in the sea. The brother became a male sea otter and dove toward east. The sister became a female sea otter and dove towards west. Their mother died, right there. There is no mention that these otters are the first sea otters.
The story the uncle tells in Kiska is the same one Smelcer shared on the website for the Missouri Folklore Society. There, he says he collected it in 1987 but doesn't give any details there as to what the story means.
So... I come back to Smelcer's reason for having it in chapter one of Kiska. Was it initially told to her because of her brother, Peter, who is a bit older than she is? Was she told that story to warn her not to let him have sex with her? I suppose that is possible but there's nothing in the story that even hints at that concern on anyone's part. Without any context, it seems odd to include it.
When chapter one ends, the Japanese have bombed Dutch Harbor Naval Base in Alaska.
In chapter two, a ship with an American flag anchors offshore. Three smaller boats are lowered, men climb into them and head for Kiska's village. Most everyone runs down to the beach to greet them. On shore, the men climb out. Some have rifles. One says that everyone must gather to hear what he has to say. Boys run up to the village to spread the word, and within a few minutes, everyone is at the beach. The man pulls a piece of paper from his pocket and reads aloud from it. Here's the first part (p. 28):
"By order of the Secretary of the United States War Department and by the Secretary of the Interior... "
I tried to find this order in government archives and books, but have not yet found it. Writers have a lot of flexibility in fiction but I think items presented as official documents must be accurate. Classroom teachers assign historical fiction in their classrooms, especially when studying history, and they assume that what an author includes is accurate. Here's the next part:
"... you are hereby ordered to abandon your village immediately and to be relocated to a safer location where you will be interned for the duration of the war against the Japanese. Such orders are in the interest and security of the nation and for your own protection."
If I ever find that order, I'll be back to say so. Melissa Green didn't find it either. See "Official proclamation" in her review. After reading that order (p. 28):
"The officer told us that we were to leave immediately, at that very minute with only what we had on. No one was permitted to go home to collect clothes or pots and pans, or to close house doors or windows. No one was allowed to leave the beach.He ordered us to board the three boats immediately, to be transferred to the gray ship anchored a couple hundred yards offshore. When some families disregarded the orders and started up the path to their homes, two soldiers ran in front of them and aimed their rifles at them."
Pretty frightening, but, I don't think it is an accurate telling of what happened. I found several resources (including a documentary, Aleut Story) about the evacuations. At some islands, people were given less than 24 hours to prepare, but they were able to pack one bag. All on its own--being forced to select what you'd put in one bag and preparing to move in less than 24 hours--is a horrible experience. Why did Smelcer make it worse than it was?
He does that, again, later when Kiska is on the ship and meets other Aleuts who tell her that the soldiers burned their villages and shot their pets. Hearing gunfire, Kiska runs to a window (they're in the hold of the ship, so she looks out through a small window) and sees soldiers walking through her village, shooting at dogs and cats (p. 31-32):
"I saw my dog running up the path to the cliffs above our village, trying to escape. A soldier ran after him, shooting at him and missing him several times. Rocks and dirt flew up where the bullets struck too high or too low. But finally, the soldier knelt and aimed right and killed my dog. I can still see him rolling and rolling down the hill and lying in a clump of grass."
Horrific, right? But not true either. Many villages were pillaged by American military personnel--after the people were gone. One village was burned, and in one village, the cows were shot, but so far I've not seen anything about pets being shot. The soldiers tell the Aleuts that they'll be gone for a very long time, and that's why they are killing the pets. (For more details, see "Burning villages" in Melissa Green's review.)
The story that Smelcer tells in Kiska suggests a government that carried out a methodical and even diabolical removal. That, however, is not accurate either. According to the report Personal Justice Denied, "there was a large failure of administration and planning" (p. 318) for the removals. The ship Kiska is on, he tells us, is the Delarof. That, too, is an error. The Delarof evacuated people from St. Paul and St. George, but not from the Aleutian Islands. (See "Delarof didn't carry all evacuees" in Melissa Green's review.)
In the remaining chapters, there is considerable overlap in what I would include and what Melissa Green included. Rather than repeat what she said, I recommend you read her review in its entirety. I'll turn, now, to the discussion questions at the back of the book.
Many of you know that some teachers use children's and young adult books in classrooms with the intent of supplementing material in a textbook. Some publishers ask their writers to develop a list of discussion questions for the book. Those questions will help a teacher use the book--but I think this part of Smelcer's book falls short, too. This is especially true for the questions that are based on inaccurate events in the story. Here's a set of questions for chapter two:
"Did the soldiers have to burn the villages and kill all the cats and dogs? Couldn't they have at least waited until the villagers couldn't see it? The colonel told them this was "for their own good." What do you think about that?"
In answering them, children have to accept the story as true. What happens, however, if the child reading the book is Unangan and knows that what Smelcer wrote isn't accurate? How does the child answer that question?
Stepping beyond classroom use of books, it is important to know that some basal reading companies use literature in their packaged materials. If Kiska were used, its errors would then be presented as fact in materials teachers use in the classroom. If that were to happen to Kiska, kids who know the truth would be in a dilemma. They'd have to choose between answering a question with an answer they know is wrong, or answering it with what they know to be true--and then be in an awkward situation with their teacher.
Because literature is used to teach, it is vitally important that historical fiction about little-known events be accurate. The questions for other chapters of Kiska have similar problems. The answers are based on what readers are to believe is accurate information in the chapters.
As long-term readers of AICL know, I've written quite a lot about the ways that the US government and its actions have been harmful to the well-being of Native Nations. In my review of Smelcer's book, I'm in the odd position of defending the government against Smelcer's inaccurate telling of this history.
In short: I do not recommend Kiska, by John Smelcer. Published in 2017 by Leapfrog Press, I think they made an error in judgement.
Historical fiction shouldn’t lie about history. This book does.
Kiska presents itself as a historical novel for readers aged 12–16. The author writes at the start of the book, “Except for variations in time and character identification and placement, most of the events written in this story are true and actually happened.”
But historical fiction shouldn’t lie about history. Here are some of the most obvious and egregious historical inaccuracies and distortions. [A longer version of this review, with complete source citations, can be found here.]
The 811 evacuees from the nine Unangan (Aleut) villages are shown as having all been evacuated by the same ship, the U.S. Army Transport Delarof. In fact, the Delarof directly evacuated only St. Paul & St. George, then sailed to Dutch Harbor to bring aboard passengers who had been previously been evacuated from Atka village (most by another ship, some by seaplane a few days later). After boarding the Atkans, the Delarof, capacity 376, carried a total of 560 evacuees — still unhealthily crowded, but also 321 people fewer than this story crams into the hold. Evacuees from those 3 villages — St. Paul, St. George, and Atka — arrived at their evacuation camps nearly two weeks before evacuation of the other six villages even began.
Why distort history by evacuating everyone all at the same time, and all aboard the same ship? One of the books which details this — Dean Kohlhoff’s 1995 history When the Wind Was a River: Aleut Evacuation in World War II— is in the novel’s “Resources for Further Study” — how did the author miss this? Or…did he just count on the rest of us not bothering to fact check…?
In the story, Delarof troops burned three of the nine villages to the ground. In history, only Atka village was burned — but in circumstances very different from those depicted in the novel. Atka Island’s Nazan Bay was being used as a seaplane base to stage raids on Japanese-occupied Kiska Island. After a Japanese reconnaissance plane was sighted over Nazan Bay on June 12, 1942, the USS Gillis was ordered to evacuate Atka & apply a “scorched-earth” policy, in order to deny the Japanese use of the village’s buildings should they invade Atka Island. But when Gillis crew came ashore, the villagers weren’t there: they’d been advised to go to their fish camps, which were reckoned to be safer if the Japanese attacked. The Gillis evacuated the two Alaska Indian Service employees they found, torched the village as ordered, & returned to their ship. Later, the USS Hulbert spotted the Atkans coming back to see their burned village, took them aboard, and transported them to Nikolski on Umnak Island, where they stayed for three days before being taken on to Dutch Harbor. (19 Atkans were left stranded on Atka for three days, until two seaplanes flew them directly to Dutch Harbor.) Thanks to the fire, the Atkans lost virtually everything but the clothing they were wearing. This was horrific and traumatizing — but very different from what the novel depicts. In any case, the USAT Delarof was never at Atka. Why tell 12 to 16-year-old readers falsehoods about this?
This is a story about Native people, so there’s got to be a “shaman”: it’s a rule. (Irony.) The “shaman” here is the “outcast” Agafon — though it’s hard to know why the word “shaman” even comes up, unless as a means to appeal to readers who associate shamanism with touchy-feely lessons from “A Course in Miracles” uttered in stereotyped broken English. Mostly what Agafon does to help “save” Kiska’s people is to give Kiska practical lessons in how to fish, hunt seals, and build kayaks (at unrealistic speed) out of materials at hand — sea lion skins being notably scarce at Funter Bay. I will credit the author with seeming to know about fishing…but why does he fail to credit actual Unangan of St. Paul and St. George at actual Funter Bay for having the same skill? Historically, two government-owned baidars (also called umiaks — traditional Unangan boat similar to large canoes) had been brought from the Pribilofs to Funter Bay for fishing. According to Charles M. Mobley (2012) in World War II Aleut Relocation Camps in Southeast Alaska (Anchorage, AK: National Park Service, Alaska Region), “Teams of as many as two dozen men went salmon fishing to feed the community, or clamming, and hunters would sometimes bring in three or four deer at a time. Eventually a USFWS boat arrived to issue them hunting licenses.”
[Update, 10 Nov 2017: In the novel, Agafon is only rumored to be a shaman, as shown in Chapter 6 when Kiska’s father tells her “Some people say he's a shaman, maybe the last one." Later, Kiska asks Agafon if he is, in fact, a shaman. He smiles, doesn’t directly answer either yes or no, but goes into a brief speech explaining what shamans are and what they do. She asks him again if he’s a shaman, and he again smiles, but makes no direct answer. Thus, whether or not he is one is strongly implied, but ultimately left ambiguous. Nowhere in the story is any unequivocal statement made to the effect that “Agafon is a shaman." (Nor any unequivocal statement that he isn't one.) I apologize that I did not make this clear at the outset.]
In history, there were no soldiers stationed as “Keepers” or guards at Funter Bay or any of the other camps. There were two or three Fish and Wildlife Service employees with their wives, two schoolteachers, their children. While none of these people were soldiers or “guards,” the FWS Sealing Division personnel did try to keep Funter Bay’s evacuees contained in the camp. But Unangan at Funter Bay defied FWS attempts to control them and their movements. “Within the first six months [at Funter Bay],” Kohlhoff writes, “there were 135 Pribilof people working outside Funter Bay, mostly in Juneau.” A year later, about 200 worked outside the camp, against the wishes of the FWS camp management. This is a very different picture than that painted in the novel of the vast majority of camp residents — all except Agafon, Kiska, and Kiska’s brother Peter — who are overwhelmingly passive in the face of the oppression of the “Keepers.”
In a chapter titled “Oktoberfest” set in October 1942, the novel shows the manager of the Funter Bay camp calling for a work detail “to make repairs on a prisoner-of-war camp for captured Germans about thirty miles away on Excursion Bay.” Period photographs at the back of the book include three photos, courtesy the Alaska State Library, showing the canteen, living quarters, and mess hall at the POW camp.
In history, the correct name of the place was (and still is) Excursion Inlet — not Excursion Bay — and there were no German POWs there until August 1945, after Germany’s surrender but prior to Japan’s. The POWs were brought to Excursion Inlet to help dismantle a formerly secret military installation, the Alaska Barge Terminal which had been built over a 15-month period beginning in August 1942 as a staging area for a potential invasion of Japan from the North Pacific. But by the time the project was completed in November 1943, the Japanese had been expelled from the Aleutians, and the facility was mothballed. Google searches on “German POWs Excursion Inlet” will bring up relevant information, including the Alaska State Library website where the photos at the back of the novel can be found. There, they are clearly labeled with the dates of the camp: August-November 1945 — dates which are omitted at the back of this novel.
The point is that there’s a nearly 3-year difference in the timeline between October 1942, when Kiska fictionally visited their camp, and August 1945 when these former Afrika Korps soldiers arrived at Excursion Inlet. And the evacuees of Funter Bay had returned home to the Pribilof Islands in May 1944, more than a full year before the German POWs came to Alaska. Unless they had a time machine, they couldn’t possibly have met any German POWs.
This is not to say that no Unangan ever went to Excursion Inlet in 1942–1943: per Kohlhoff, “At Excursion Inlet, some Aleuts were employed in a defense project and were ‘making from $50 to over $100 weekly plus allowances.’ It would be difficult for the Sealing Division to compete.” But they weren’t going to Excursion Inlet to make repairs at a German POW camp three years in their future: They were helping to build the Alaska Barge Terminal that the POWs would later be brought up to dismantle. That’s the history. Why is it being distorted here?
In the book’s epilogue, the author asserts that “In 1986, Sen. Stevens asked John Smelcer, a cultural anthropologist and oral historian, to interview surviving Aleut elders so that their of heartrending stories could be included in the legislation” — a reference to the Aleutian and Pribilof Islands Restitution Act (P.L. 100-383) of 1988. In 1986, Smelcer had only just graduated from University of Alaska Fairbanks with bachelor degrees in English and anthropology — credentials which were unlikely to have qualified him professionally at that point as a “cultural anthropologist.”
It’s nonetheless possible that he encountered Sen. Stevens at that time. But it’s unlikely that Sen. Stevens needed his assistance to document the “heartrending stories” of Unangan elders. The Unangan had already been doing the work themselves for years. Angry at what they’d suffered in the camps (disease and death, neglect, racism…) and on return home (homes and property stolen and vandalized by American servicemen), newly awake to opportunities that the FWS and other government entities had isolated them from, allied with politically engaged Alaska Natives they’d befriended in Southeast, such as the Alaska Native Brotherhood — they organized themselves to assert their dignity, their sovereignty, and their right to redress.
In 1978, the Aleutian/Pribilof Islands Association (APIA) retained a lawyer named John C. Kirtland, who worked with the Alaska congressional delegation, including Sen. Stevens, to push an amendment to the Commission on Wartime Relocation and Internment of Civilians (CWRIC) Act (enacted in 1980 as Public Law 96-317), to add the investigation of the Unangan evacuation and relocation to the CWRIC’s mandate to investigate the Japanese American internments. Then Kirtland and APIA got the Alaska Legislature and governor to appropriate the funds to gather Unangan testimony. The result: a “memorandum in equity law with voluminous documentation” — the 9-volume “The Relocation and Internment of the Aleuts During World War II” (available on CD from the Aleutian/Pribilof Islands Association). The APIA also mobilized survivors of the camps to CWRIC hearings held in September 1981 in Anchorage, Unalaska, and St. Paul, resulting in in-person testimony by 53 Unangan witnesses and a further 135 depositions and written testimonies. All this testimony, assembled by the Unangan themselves with the help of their lawyer, formed the basis for the Aleut section of the CWRIC report, Personal Justice Denied: Report of the Commission on Wartime Relocation and Internment of Civilians, published in 1982 — several years before the author’s claimed encounter in 1986 with Sen. Stevens. The CWRIC report paved the way for the legislation for redress that ultimately was enacted in 1988.
Kiska is not “historical fiction.” It’s just fiction. Mixed in with those aspects that are true to history are so many distortions — not only in the story itself, but also in the “Questions for Discussion” that supplement the book — as to make this book entirely useless as a means to lead any reader to understand the Unangan experience of the war, or what they did with it after.
Please read accounts by the actual people who lived through this horrendous time to see how all the people at Funter Bay & the other evacuation camps worked tenaciously to care for themselves & their families. They hunted. They fished. They even got jobs away from the camps. After the war ended, they fought tenaciously for their rights so that such a thing might never happen again. They didn’t just sit there waiting to be “saved.” If you read such stories, you’ll know that the young hero the author tries to make his character Kiska out to be shouldn’t have been designed as an “outsider” at all. To be heroic, she’d just have to be Unangan, one among her people.
short and sweet book, under 200 pages and honestly a topic I've never heard of before. Advertised as a historical fiction novel, with some difficult passages to really read.
Focused on Aleutian Islands, with Alaskans threatened to be invaded by japan so the rest of the US comes in to assist relocate. Only the book portrays a version that isn't quite as simple as relocation, it's said to ensure Japanese don't overtake those islands they have to destroy the land including... animals. Imagine watching where you grew up and lived be crushed and burnt before you, but being told "it's only temporary, you'll go back once it's over".
I've seen mixed reviews about the facts the author represented, so I'm unsure of what is truthful or fabricated to an extreme. But definitely brought to light an area I wasn't familiar with prior.
KISKSA written by Dr. John Smelcer and published by Leapfrog Press tells a story many Americans may be unfamiliar with- the forced evacuation of Aleutian Islander Native people during WWII. Japanese military forces occupied parts of Alaska' Aleutians during the war. With the Japanese threat looming; the USA evacuated these Native people and placed them in relocation centers for the duration. These centers- concentration camps would then become the home to many Aleutians for months; with many hardships and struggles to be faced. The book's heroine- Kiska is a teen-age Aleutian girl whose life faces upheaval during this aspect of WWII that few people are aware of.
Dr. John Smelcer, a Native Alaskan and tribal citizen (Ahtna) has written many books about the indigenous peoples of Alaska. He has spent a life time helping to preserve and perpetuate the culture and language of the Ahtna people. He is a man who is obviously passionate about the histories and cultures that make up his beloved Alaska. His site www.johnsmelcer.com details his life long attempts to preserve Ahtna culture, preserve Native Alaskan history and his many books about Native Alaskans.
This book gives an accurate and authentic voice to a little known aspect of history. Many young people will follow this heroine through her experiences during a time where she has little control over her circumstances. As a Native person myself, I greatly appreciated this story- by a Native author who so very much loves writing about his Native Alaskan people. Though the book has been out only a short while; I am already beginning to hear from Native friends and colleagues (and more specifically their children) in both Alaska and in the lower '48 are reading, enjoying and recommending KISKA.
If you know a young adult reader who loves books about history, WWII specific history, Alaska, Native people, strong girl characters.... and more; then get them to read KISKA.
This beautiful novel set in the WWII era tells the heartbreaking journey of Kiska and her family after the US military evicts them off the Aleutian Island and transplants them nearly 2,000 miles away in Funter Bay in the Alexander Peninsula of Alaska. With fear that the Japanese will take over many of the Aleutian Islands, the military rounds up the villagers, saying they aren’t allowed to bring anything with them, and then proceeds to kill all animals left on the island before boarding the ship and moving on to the next village. After the long journey to Funter Bay, the villagers are forced to live in unsanitary and awful living conditions while the military personal stay warm, cozy, healthy, and fed in a house. Kiska meets and befriends an old man named Agafon who teaches her how to make fishing supplies and capture food so that she can secretly provide seafood for the Aleuts at the internment camp.
Kiska’s brave story was absolutely heartbreaking. It’s ironic and appalling on how the US came to the defense of those the Germans treated badly, but yet they forced Japanese and Aleuts out of their homes and made them live in camps. The living conditions that Kiska and her family endured were sickening, especially when a nearby German POW camp had running water, loads of food, a shop to buy stuff, adequate rooms, etc.
The story is 100% true. A lot of research was done to detail conditions and history from the internment camp in Funter Bay. In fact, there was a girl who secretly captured sea food like Kiska who never let a single person (except the author) know her identity. The ending was perfect and there wasn’t a single thing I didn’t like about the novel. If anything, it could be lengthened a tad, but it is flawless just the way it is.
I really enjoyed this novel entitled Kiska because of all of the things I learned. I love the characters in the novel too. The title of the book is a name of one of the Aleutian islands. Kiska is also the real name of a much older woman who learned how to catch fish, hunt seals and catch crabs to feed her people during their internment. This is remarkable because I thought only men did these things. I really like how the teenage character of Kiska in the novel learned how to do all of these things from her much older friend. He is a character named Agafon. He believed that Kiska possessed all this courage inside of her to save her people. He provided the impetus for Kiska to be brave by telling her that the Aleut people needed a hero. I am inspired and amazed by the courage of Kiska.
I also learned that the Aleutian islands are off the coast of Alaska. I did not know that the Japanese attacked Alaska during World War II. I did not know that Aleut people had their own language. I did not know the influence the Russians had the Aleut people. The Aleut people adopted the Russian Orthodox religion because Alaska once belonged to Russia.
I also love learning about the culture of the Aleut people. I particularly enjoyed reading about their love of seals. The Aleut people use every part of a seal. They eat seal meat. They use seal fur to make kayaks. They even eat the flippers of the seal and consume seal oil. I am curious to try some seal meat just to see if I would like it.
I really love the discussion questions that John Smelcer provides at the end of the novel. These questions help me to comprehend better what I read. The questions help me remember the information in this book long after I finished it. I truly enjoyed reading Kiska.
I have wanted to read this book ever since the author wrote about the internment of the Aleut people as part of the Forgotten War: https://www.npr.org/sections/codeswit...
I preordered the book, but forgot about it until it showed up, and was excited to read it.
Nonetheless, I not only enjoyed this book but feel it's a story that needs to be told. But I question whether or not it is the author's right to tell this story. If he's lying about his heritage, then no. If he told the truth and said he wasn't Native Alaskan, but did his research well, I might feel differently.
I originally was going to give this five stars, and then I did my research. Because it's a work of fiction things like the size/name of the ship being different or other facts don't bother me as much as pretending to be of a culture one is not. Also, some of the language that Kiska uses may not be authentic to the time period. And sadly, the whole thing is skewed due to the controversy around the author.
A nice fictional rendition of a wartime experience of Alaska natives. It very clearly is labeled a NOVEL, hence it is to be placed in Juvenile Fiction shelves. The bones of the story are basically correct, but even the author, John Smelcer notes as in most of his novels, "This is a work of fiction but every word is true." Now, the words can be arranged by the author to tell the story he wants to tell and it is called fiction.
As with all of Smelcer's novels, there is a message, a strong survivor, and an uplifting ending that makes for excellent reading. Great book for a juvenile. I've lived in Alaska 43 years and kinda know the place.
This had a compelling narrative and fast plot - a good choice for reluctant readers. I think the novel does a good job on shedding light on a historical injustice.
I read some of the goodreads reviews for this book and found the critiques really vicious. I'm glad to be aware of the problems with this novel, but I still feel this is a strong historical fiction and an important publication.
Kiska is a fast-paced, moving story that highlights the Aleut internment during WW2, a little-known episode in American history, and tells the story of a girl who learns how to feed her community when no one else can.
Graded By: Brian Cover Story: Sun Salutation Drinking Buddy: Qaĝanaazax̂! Testosterone Estrogen Level: Rosie the Kayaker Talky Talk: The Fog of War Bonus Factor: The Aleutian Islands Bromance Status: Forgotten Battles