Learning to Love Through Storytelling : THE TEMPLE OF MY FAMILIAR <i> by Alice Walker (Harcourt Brace Jovanovich: $19.95; 432 pp.; 0-15-188533) </i>

The origin stories of tribal people long ago were accounts of hardship, optimism, love and finally, of endurance. These stories are still told today in various contexts and to listen to the storyteller is to participate in the re-creation of an entire people. It is to participate in the rhythm of ancient voices, complete with nuances and laughs of delight. Or cries of grief. It is to participate in songs, to listen to stories animals have to tell and to believe worlds other than this one exist. Through the storyteller, we experience the dreams, the hopes, pain and the love of a people. We understand it is this love that will outlast us all.

The storyteller in this account is Alice Walker, the acclaimed poet and writer. She asks us to suspend learned literary expectations and become part of the evolution of a people. “The Temple of My Familiar” is technically a work of fiction--it is also the moving account of the outside forces imposed upon a tribal people, the fears and grief thereof and it speaks directly to the strength of love and the resilience of all living parts of this world--humans, animals, birds, and the Earth itself. This mode of storytelling has nothing to do with linear time, detailed maps or chronological order. It is as simple as telling stories in one’s kitchen (which does happen) or over iced tea on the back porch. In this setting, gestures, nuances in narration and facial expressions make it clear as to who is speaking.

The novel begins with Zede, who weaves beautiful peacock feather capes for celebrities in America. This once-revered art was taught to Zede by her mother, who also learned from her own mother. The capes were once part of the ritual ceremonial regalia worn by her ancestors in South America. In San Francisco, Zede sells the exquisite capes to support herself and her daughter, Carlotta. The capes have become a fashion showpiece and available only to the rich and extravagant. Zede is one of the last remaining survivors of her aboriginal community and the stories following are heartwrenching accounts of the colonization of a people. Through Zede’s and other characters’ voices, we experience the effects of Christianization on native people and the effects of “civilization.” The stories are first-hand accounts and draw us in immediately and the events are not obscure historical facts, after all. It is real and painful. The power of the oral tradition is overwhelming. We understand the loss and pain when American Indians speak today of the Cherokee Trail of Tears or the Long Walk of the Navajos, their eyes glistening with tears. Walker intends it to be this way as history creates us, and centuries or decades have no meaning in this context.

The six major characters in this book tell their stories to each other. We are eavesdroppers. We are fortunate as their voices are distinct, poetic at times, and always filled with the love of language and of humor. This is particularly true with the elderly characters--Lizzie, Hal, Shug and Celie.

Celie and Shug, who are familiar to many from Walker’s novel, “The Color Purple,” are content, independent women in this story. Their deaths are not events to mourn but rather, a continuum of life on another level. Readers are not saddened as Walker teaches acceptance of the inevitable in a gentle, caring manner. The novel contains a strong sense of connectedness between generations and between women and an equally strong underlying current of loss and grief.

Fanny and Lizzie are two of the strongest characters in “Temple.” They are very intuitive and their stories are bursting with innate strength, incredible psychic abilities and a belief in more than this world. Through them, we learn of other life forces and other planes of existence. Through them, we examine the evolution of gender roles and the possibility of an existence of a true egalitarian society before the institutions of family, marriage and patriarchy were established.

This book is a celebration of ordinary life and of everyday emotions. Whether it is Lizzie and Hal cooking gumbo and telling stories, the aroma of fresh homemade bread or the sounds of children in the next room--our senses are alert. The simple rituals that are preparation for a storytelling session focuses on small and memorable details: “ . . . Suwelo watched TV much less himself now that Miss Lizzie and Mr. Hal talked to him . . . he was in the habit of covering it whenever it was off. Mr. Hal contented himself with tugging at a corner of the shawl and straightening the edge. The small ritual completed, a gesture that seemed unconsciously designed to close off completely an erroneous and trivial point of view. Mr. Hal settled back to take up his narrative where he had left off . . . these talks . . . were not conversation. They were more perceived as deliveries Suwelo was grateful to receive.”

Racism is a daily issue for many people of color and this is addressed deftly and with compassion. For instance, when Mr. Hal tells Suwelo about the purchase of a home: “No doubt the neighbors thought the house too fine for ‘niggers’ . . . I don’t think black people were allowed in that part of town then. But we were so discreet they hardly ever saw us. We never sat or stood on our stoop . . . there was an alley behind the house and we always went in the back way . . . we kept it spotless, this house, the grass clipped and the hedges trimmed. In the early years we worked on the grass and hedges at night. It was nicer than anything we’d ever dreamed of living in.”

Walker explains that anger and violence will not change the world, but an appreciation of each other will improve our lot here.

Finally, “The Temple of My Familiar” is a novel about love-- in all its forms; love for spirits and spirituality, love for the land and plants, love for all people--regardless of color, sexual preference or age--and love for all living things. It is about compassion for the oppressed, the grief of the oppressors, acceptance of the unchangeable and hope for everyone and everything.

Alice Walker has written beautifully about dreams, the power of stories--and about the remarkable strength of our own histories.