Rowling's Cultural Appropriation May be Magical, But It's Not Charming

I have written about the topic of cultural appropriation before, and given that this blog is largely devoting to exploring problematic aspects of speculative fiction, I am particularly interested when conversations about cultural appropriation arise within the context of science fiction or fantasy. The latest example of such controversy appears to be acclaimed Harry Potter writer JK Rowling’s recent essay on her Pottermore website. Being part of the History of Magic in North America series, the piece is titled “The 14th to 17th Century” and concentrates upon the magical community within the indigenous population of North America in distinction from the European magical society her fans are already familiar with.

Before I proceed to detail the developments of this controversy and address the criticisms of Rowling’s writing, I should note that as a straight, white male I don’t consider myself to be any authoritative position to dictate to minorities, certainly not the indigenous inhabitants of the land my country unjustly occupies. If I take issue with something a critic of Rowling has said, it is not because I take issue with their concerns but with their argument only. I don’t believe there is anything inappropriate about defending the sanctity of one’s cultural heritage against perceived exploitation, but there is nothing wrong with mentioning the inadequacy of arguments pertaining to it. My intention is not to “whitesplain” the situation by stating that critics such as NK Jemisin or Dr. Keene are “overreacting” to a subject that is “just fantasy”. For them, this isn’t just fantasy, it is their history and their community and it is being eroded by ignorance. The best way to dispel that ignorance in my opinion is through critical reflection which I hope to provide here.    

My responses are not meant to discredit the concerns of Native Americans or any other people of color, but merely to examine Rowling’s writing from my perspective and offer commentary on the conversation taking place among some of her critics. Just as I believe Rowling was providing an alternative interpretation of Native American history, rather than overwriting it, so too is it my intention to provide an alternative commentary to that of her critics without ignoring the concerns they raise. As a fan of her writing concerned about justice for minorities, I am invested in the world of Harry Potter and reconciling it with the demands of social justice. My interest in presenting an interpretation of Rowling’s writing which leaves space for these two to be reconciled. I believe that Rowling had good intentions, but produced ill effects (which matter more); she may not have taken advantage of Native American people, but she failed to take advantage of her position as a world-famous author to be an ally for them. But in the situation of oppressed peoples, such a distinction is largely ineffectual. 

Rowling’s writing turned towards fan-community controversy when Dr. Adrienne Keene of the blog Native Appropriations wrote a response article addressing History of Magic in North America. In a follow-up article, Keene states that “one of the largest fights in the world of representations is to recognize Native peoples and communities and cultures are diverse, complex, and vastly different from one another. There is no such thing as one “Native American” anything. Even in a fictional wizarding world”. African American fantasy author NKJemisin (a favorite author of mine) echoed this sentiment when she speculated that Rowling “would never have dreamt of reducing all of Europe’s cultures to “European wizarding tradition”; instead she created Durmstrang and Beauxbatons and so on to capture the unique flavor of each of those cultures”. Jemisin continues to say that “It would’ve taken some work for her to research Navajo stories and pick (or request) some elements from that tradition that weren’t stereotypical or sacred — and then for her to do it again with the Paiutes and again with the Iroquois and so on.”

In Jemisin’s opinion, Rowling’s writing would have been much richer “if she’d mentioned the ruins of a “lost” school at Cahokia, full of dangerous magical artifacts and the signs of mysterious, hasty abandonment? Or a New Orleanian school founded by Marie Laveau, that practiced real vodoun and was open/known to the locals as a temple — and in the old days as a safe place to plan slave rebellions, a la Congo Square? Or what if she’d mentioned that ancient Death Eater-ish wizards deliberately destroyed the magical school of Hawai’i — but native Hawai’ians are rebuilding it now as Liliuokalani Institute, better than before and open to all?” This all sounds fantastic and reveals the depth of Jemisin’s creativity against the shallowness Rowling put on display. But I question whether Rowling is fairly obligated to go into such detail within one small piece of writing. The “The 14^th to 17^th Century” juxtaposes generalizations of European and North American magic against one another to contrast the new sense of Native American magical practice and history against the familiarity of European wizardry.

I am sympathetic to the yearning for more nuanced details as both a fan of fantasy world-building and as an ally concerned about minority representation. It is true and it is unfortunate that Native peoples are often only recognized as a homogenous mass, when they are given recognition at all. It remains uncertain how much Rowling will continue to expand and explore this part of her world. The writing appears to be publicity material for the upcoming film Fantastical Beasts and Where to Find Them and thus it seems unlikely that these writings will be significantly expanded (at least not until after the film’s release, lest it spoil the material), nor does it appear that they were ever intended to provide a critical and comprehensive history of magic in North America. Rowling can be faulted for doing nothing to dispel the illusion that Native Americans are a homogenous population, even if her intention was to speak about populations in the aggregate. Rowling didn’t have to detail the diversity amongst the indigenous tribes of North America, she simply had to acknowledge that there is such diversity and I think it is a fair assessment of her writing to say that she didn’t even do this. Rowling is not defining Native Americans as a singular community, but that is only because she hardly defines them at all.   

 

In Keene’s assessment, “Indigenous peoples are constantly situated as fantasy creatures” and that there is a “pervasive and problematic narrative wherein Native peoples are always “mystical” and “magical” and “spiritual”–able to talk to animals, conjure spirits, perform magic, heal with “medicine” and destroy with “curses.”” But in Rowling’s magical version of North America, “the overall ratio of wizards to non-wizards seemed consistent across populations, as did the attitudes of No-Majs (non-magic users), wherever they were born. In the Native American community, some witches and wizards were accepted and even lauded within their tribes, gaining reputations for healing as medicine men, or outstanding hunters. However, others were stigmatized for their beliefs, often on the basis that they were possessed by malevolent spirits.” In Rowling’s world, all cultures possess the potential for magic, and Native American tribal communities are no different, nor are they stereotypically exceptionally gifted with magical talent. Rowling neither neglects nor mystifies Native Americans. So while Rowling may apply the abilities Keene notes to Native Americans, she does not do this as a stereotype of them, since their capacity for magic is no different than any other population. It cannot be considered a stereotype since it does not discriminate Native Americans as a distinct community in regards to magical talent.

The Native American practice of magic is distinguished from that of European settlers in the latter’s use of the wand: “Wands channel magic so as to make its effects both more precise and more powerful, although it is generally held to be a mark of the very greatest witches and wizards that they have also been able to produce wandless magic of a very high quality. As the Native American Animagi and potion-makers demonstrated, wandless magic can attain great complexity, but Charms and Transfiguration are very difficult without one.” Keene responds by noting that “wands are what basically refines magic. Wands are a European invention, so basically she’s demonstrating Eurocentric superiority here–the introduction of European “technology” helps bring the Native wizards to a new level. AKA colonial narrative 101.” While Rowling did state that the wand was unique to the European magical community, she didn’t suggest that it made wizards within that community superior to those native to America. She merely mentioned that particular forms of magic were difficult without the precision granted by the use of wand. While it appears that Native Americans could benefit from utilizing wands, Rowling does not state that such utilization would progress their civilization in any way. Rowling actually alludes to advantages Native American magicians possessed over Europeans: “The Native American wizarding community was particularly gifted in animal and plant magic, its potions in particular being of a sophistication beyond much that was known in Europe.” Keene is right to be vigilant for ways in which fantasy reflects colonial narratives of superiority, but I don’t recognize such a correspondence in Rowling’s writing here. But that’s not to say she isn’t to be faulted elsewhere in her writing.    

Rowling devotes particular (in)attention to the narrative of skin-walkers (while failing to specify that this legend is not universal among Native American tribes). She states that “the legend of the Native American ‘skin walker’ – an evil witch or wizard that can transform into an animal at will – has its basis in fact. A legend grew up around the Native American Animagi, that they had sacrificed close family members to gain their powers of transformation. In fact, the majority of Animagi assumed animal forms to escape persecution or to hunt for the tribe. Such derogatory rumors often originated with No-Maj medicine men, who were sometimes faking magical powers themselves, and fearful of exposure.” Much can be said of this one paragraph, because it touches not only upon an appropriated aspect of sacred tradition, but it also deals with the perceived reality of such legendary beings and the legitimacy of those who inform their community about them. The precise meaning and implications of this paragraph are ambiguous since it is referring beings (skin-walkers) that not every reader will recognize as existing in our real world to begin with. Without a pre-established familiarity with the subject, the line between fantastical and historical mythology is obscured. Rowling does not claim that the legend of the skin-walkers is itself an authentic Native American legend, but that it is a legend about skin-walkers amongst Native Americans; it is a “legend of the Native American ‘skin-walker’” and not a Native American legend of skin-walkers. Recognizing such ambiguity, one fan tweeted to Rowling for clarification regarding the skin-walkers asking “Were the skin-walkers evil or not? Or were they simple animagus?” Rowling responded by saying that “in my wizarding world, there were no skin-walkers. The legend was created by No-Majes to demonize wizards.” In Rowling’s world, a skin-walker is just a demonized wizard, no different than an ordinary (ordinarily magical) person. Rowling has denied the legitimacy of the legend in our world by equating it with the magic of her world. 

A great deal of the criticism directed at instances of cultural appropriation is focused on how sacred artifacts of a community are reinterpreted against their traditional significance. In and of itself, I do not consider the reinterpretation of appropriated cultural markers to be inherently offensive so long as they are not utilized to perpetuate offensive stereotypes or discredit the community from which there were derived. If I appropriate the Palestinian keffiyeh only to utilize it as part of a “terrorist” costume, this would be wrong since I am only using it to perpetuate a false narrative about Palestinian identity while discrediting the resistance to preserve that identity against occupation. It is no wonder that Native Americans take offense to Rowling writing that the skin-walker legend was spread through fraudulent Native American medicine men. Such a statement goes beyond merely providing an alternative explanation of Native American spirituality. If Rowling was merely offering an alternative explanation of skin-walkers as magical beings in her world, I don’t think she would have received the same extent of criticism, nor would she have deserved it. But instead she presented the legend as a lie perpetuated by Native American spiritual elders themselves. In so doing, she is erasing an authentic aspect of Native American tribal tradition by reducing it to a fantastical farce. Rowling isn’t equating Native American tradition with magic, she is erasing it and replacing it with her own magical fiction. She is inserting her own authority over Native American tradition while feigning authorial responsibility for her reinterpretation by making Native Americans themselves responsible for the difference and problematically makes it due to the lies of their spiritual authorities.

Keene is concerned that “if Indigenous spirituality becomes conflated with fantasy “magic”–how can we expect lawmakers and the public to be allies in the protection of these spaces”. Although JK Rowling is appropriating elements of Native American tradition, she is not divorcing it from its historical context. Some fantasy authors appropriate recognizable elements of real, historical cultures but make them part of a purely fantastical culture in their fictional world, thereby stripping them of their real-world significance. If a sacred symbol becomes synonymous with a fictional culture, it ceases to command respect for the real world cultures that identify with it. Rowling may fail to state that skin-walkers are specific to certain indigenous tribes of America, but she at least maintains that they are a part of Native American spirituality. Unfortunately, Rowling presents this spirituality as a fraud, which isn’t an ideal improvement, even if it’s only in the context of a magical alternative history. Especially when there is no good reason for Rowling to portray Native American spirituality that way when the premise of a magical alternative history allows herself to take it seriously. Rowling could have just as easily considered medicine men as endowed with both magical and spiritual authority and simply accepted the legend of skin-walkers as it is. If Rowling was going to reinterpret a Native American legend by placing it within the context of her magical alternative history, it isn’t clear why she felt the need to explain it by discrediting Native American spiritual leaders. Even though she is referring to them in a fictional context, their role in Native American society and relationship with skin-walkers is not fictional but is a lived experience, and therefore even discrediting them in fantasy fiction, can do real harm to Native American communities, as evidenced by the negative reaction her writing has elicited. 

            But while it may be insensitive and offensive for Rowling to write off medicine men as frauds selling a false spirituality, most readers would nevertheless consider that Native American spirituality is false. Readers may not consider Native American legends to be part of fraudulent conspiracy against their own community, but they probably do believe that such legends are at best inspiring stories, and at worst ignorant delusions. Those positioned as allies of Native Americans offended by Rowling’s writing are unlikely to believe in such beings unless they follow the spiritual tradition of those particular tribes with a concept of skin-walkers. Anyone outside of these communities would either deny their existence outright as mere folklore or delusion or reinterpret in their own spiritual tradition (a Christian may consider skin-walkers to be demons, for example). So when Rowling states that “in my wizarding world, there were no skin-walkers” she isn’t only talking about her fictional world, but the real world as well, where most people would agree that there are no skin-walkers. Many people were likely not even familiar with the concept of such beings until Rowling alluded to them. It is not as if Rowling is responsible for most people denying the existence of skin-walkers, nor is it her duty to be an apologist for unique indigenous spiritualties. It is entirely understandable for Native Americans to be disappointed in Rowling for not doing more to define their culture authentically but it is less certain that Rowling is under any obligation to be such an ally. Especially when what she says does not differ radically from what most people, allies or not of Native Americans, believe themselves to be true. 

To fault Rowling with the denial of the existence of skin-walkers in her fictional world, when most people already deny their existence in the real world, seems to create more problems than it addresses. The implication is that it is offensive to deny the existence of spiritual beings in other communities, even when they are not recognized by or when they contradict that of one’s own religious heritage. The ideology this would require seems neither practical nor intelligible. We may not publish stories saying as much as Rowling does, but we don’t have to; the dismissal of one another’s spiritual traditions as mere fantasies is a pervasive and essential aspect of our lives. Spiritual credulity has its limits. Rowling didn’t slander the reputation of a spirituality that most people took seriously before her publication. Most of them were probably not even aware of it in any detail (as limited as the details Rowling provides are) before her writing and remain unchanged in their opinion after having read it. Rowling certainly can’t be said to have gone out of her way to take Native American spirituality seriously, but how many of her non-Native American critics could say that they do? If Rowling can be faulted here, it is simply for not being polite enough to refrain from what most of us already think quietly to ourselves.     

According to Keene, “there is an entire industry of plastic shamans selling ceremonies, or places like Urban Outfitters selling “smudge kits” and fake eagle feathers.” This concern is very real, since it touches upon more than merely appropriating elements of another culture, but actually profiting off of the exploitive commercialization of cultural artifacts. If Rowling’s ventures into the world of American magic expand and “Native American-themed” wizarding merchandize is generated, one hopes that it becomes an opportunity for Native Americans themselves to contribute to, and benefit from, the venture. How much more beautiful and authentic would the collection be if it was designed by artists of various tribes (rather than having the empty signifier of generically “Native American”), each with their own unique aesthetics, and each of which would benefit from such a partnership by being entitled to a portion of the profit. Keene herself echoes this hope when she says that she wants “Native peoples to be able to represent ourselves. I love the idea of Indigenous science fiction, of indigenous futurisms, of indigenous fanfiction, and indigenous characters in things comics and superhero storylines. I know it can be done, and it can be done right and done well. But it has to be done carefully, with boundaries respected (i.e. not throwing around Skin-walkers casually in a trailer), and frankly, I want Native peoples to write it. We’ve been misrepresented by outsiders every which-way, and it’s time for us to reclaim our stories and images, and push them into the future, ourselves”. 

I cannot applaud this more. I would love to see more Native fantasy authors (I need to do the work and discover those that already exist), not only so that they can provide a voice to the genre but also their communities. I believe that fantasy is an invaluable literary asset to marginalized peoples; as a literature that presents a world that is at times wholly “other” than our own, it is the perfect medium by which the “other” can critique ideologies assumed to be synonymous with reality. I was hoping that Keene would use her writing as an opportunity to present a reclaimed image of her people. Instead she states that “what you do need to know is that the belief of these things (beings?) has a deep and powerful place in Navajo understandings of the world. It is connected to many other concepts and many other ceremonial understandings and lifeways. It is not just a scary story, or something to tell kids to get them to behave, it’s much deeper than that. My own community also has shape-shifters, but I’m not delving into that either” and “What did I decide? That you don’t need to know. It’s not for you to know. I am performing a refusal.”   

I find this performative refusal perplexing given her preceding statements about asserting one’s identity and defining one’s own narrative. But then again, it’s entirely legitimate to view Dr. Keene’s refusal as a statement that it is her people’s narrative, not Rowling’s and not mine. If and when she or any other indigenous person wants to tell the story of their people it will be on their times and in their time. I can’t help but feel that Keene overlooked a great opportunity to redefine JK Rowling’s erroneous narrative further, but I am in no position to demand that Keene divulge further information on something she considers sacred and undeserving of casual or even critical discussion. Marginalized people of color are entitled to whatever strategy they feel best preserves the sacred traditions of their community. My only reservation is that this refusal to differentiate an authentic skin-walker narrative from the one Rowling created seems to leave Rowling with the authoritative voice. If Native American narratives of their own traditions are do not enter public discourse when they have a platform to deliver it, then it seems like white authors will be left to determine the public impression of indigenous mythology. It is unfortunate that Keene’s performative refusal is perceived by some as hypocritically displaying the same indifference as Rowling herself. The difference is that Keene is entitled to such silence, Rowling is not.

Keene and other people of color are under no obligation to the public to divulge their history in response to someone imposing their own erroneous narrative on it. Rowling positioned herself as a voice on Native American culture and history, fantastical or otherwise. She could have done more to ensure that her voice was sympathetic to the people she was speaking on behalf of. I don’t think it is fair to accuse Rowling of promoting stereotypes of Native American people, primarily because such an accusation presumes a level of detail her writing simply doesn’t possess. But in such ambiguity Rowling repeatedly failed to use her writing as an opportunity to confront established stereotypes and step beyond them. Rowling had an opportunity to present her readers with a more authentic image of Native American spirituality, and yet she elected not to, for no apparently advantageous reason. The advantage of the fantasy genre is that in taking us outside of our presumed “real’ world into an “other” world, we are given a greater perspective from which to appreciate the world. Rowling had an opportunity to transport readers into the world of America’s indigenous inhabitants and instead she merely transported readers to a backstory for an upcoming film. This is both a failed opportunity to use her power and privilege to be an ally to a people who generally lack such opportunities, but it was also a failure for her to live up to expectations for her writing and the fantasy genre in general. I’m not angry at JK Rowling so much as I am disappointed that she could be content with so little.