Braiding Sweetgrass: Indigenous Wisdom, Scientific Knowledge, and the Teachings of Plants

When the author tells the story of Hazel Barnett, it is a marked change of pace during the book. Told from the perspective of the author’s daughter, it is one of the only times when another human character observes and documents the events described in the text. This switch in perspective plays an important role; when seen from the child’s point of view, Hazel becomes a very different figure, imbued with a childlike wonder. The daughter’s assumption that she must be a witch connects science to magic in a way that otherwise might be overlooked.

From there, the memory of Hazel functions as a short story. She is old and lives with her disabled children, having never returned to the home where she grew up. After Kimmerer and Hazel become friends, the author decides to return Hazel to her home for a Christmas celebration. The party becomes a narrative climax and a resolution of the themes of displacement and disconnection which emerge elsewhere in the text. Hazel is one of the few characters who gets to return home; her house is cleaned and prepared for her, and she is welcomed with gifts—mirrored by the gifts left for the author upon her return from kayaking after leaving her last daughter at college. This story also functions as a metaphor for the return of Indigenous peoples to their ancestral lands.

Hazel also demonstrates that knowledge of plants and their medicinal qualities is not limited to Indigenous people. She has her own functioning knowledge of medicinal plants and her expertise can rival that of the author. Hazel, while it is not explicitly mentioned, is implied to be a white person, lacking in the Indigenous traditions and heritage described elsewhere. This demonstrates that the ability to revere and respect the environment is not limited to Indigenous people either. The respect and love shown for Hazel—and the respect and love she shows for the natural world—become a template for how the author believes society could function. Thus, Hazel demonstrates the universality of the themes of the text.

Although the Windigo features as an abstract concept for much of the text, the final chapters demonstrate how it manifests into an actual character. The folkloric version of the creature described in the earlier chapters lays the foundation for the threat which will later emerge; the Windigo evolves and changes, beginning to haunt the author.

Initially, the Windigo is introduced as a mythic construction. It serves a societal purpose: In the harshest of winters, when food was scarce and people might be tempted to turn toward cannibalism, the Windigo reminds them of what they have to lose. The Windigo is a man who has tasted human flesh, whose heart has turned to ice, and who has become exiled and monstrous. This, the folklore suggests, is what will happen to those who cannibalize another person. The story originally served as a morality tale, teaching people what might happen to them if they break the social taboo. The stories about fighting a Windigo, therefore, are efforts to overcome the hunger and the pain that might tempt someone to break taboo.

In the modern world, the threat of starvation is greatly diminished, particularly in wealthier nations like the US. Thus, the author reimagines the Windigo. Rather than a manifestation of scarcity and famine, it becomes a figure of overindulgence and lack of care for the environment. This modern Windigo haunts the author just as the traditional Windigo haunted the Indigenous people. The thought of waste and the breaking of the Honorable Harvest frighten the author, taking on the guise of the monstrous beast. By the end of the text, these fears and anxieties have become so palpable that the creature arrives at her house to confront her.

In the final chapter, the first to take on the dreamlike quality not firmly rooted in experience or anecdote, the author confronts the Windigo. She knows it is coming, so she prepares the only way she knows how: through traditional medicine. These traditional cures are the metaphorical riposte to the Windigo’s overconsumption. She beats the Windigo, but then—most importantly—she knows the battle is not over. She sits down and asks to hear its story. With love and understanding, added to traditional knowledge, it is possible to conquer the Windigo.