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Wisdom Sits in Places: Landscape and Language Among the Western Apache
This remarkable book introduces us to four unforgettable Apache people, each of whom offers a different take on the significance of places in their culture. Apache conceptions of wisdom, manners and morals, and of their own history are inextricably intertwined with place, and by allowing us to overhear his conversations with Apaches on these subjects Basso expands our awareness of what place can mean to people.
Most of us use the term "sense of place" often and rather carelessly when we think of nature or home or literature. Our senses of place, however, come not only from our individual experiences but also from our cultures. "Wisdom Sits in Places," the first sustained study of places and place-names by an anthropologist, explores place, places, and what they mean to a particular group of people, the Western Apache in Arizona. For more than thirty years, Keith Basso has been doing fieldwork among the Western Apache, and now he shares with us what he has learned of Apache place-names--where they come from and what they mean to Apaches.
"This is indeed a brilliant exposition of landscape and language in the world of the Western Apache. But it is more than that. Keith Basso gives us to understand something about the sacred and indivisible nature of words and place. And this is a universal equation, a balance in the universe. Place may be the first of all concepts; it may be the oldest of all words."--N. Scott Momaday
"In "Wisdom Sits in Places" Keith Basso lifts a veil on the most elemental poetry of human experience, which is the naming of the world. In so doing he invests his scholarship with that rarest of scholarly qualities: a sense of spiritual exploration. Through his clear eyes we glimpse the spirit of a remarkable people and their land, and when we look away, we see our own world afresh."--William deBuys
"A very exciting book--authoritative, fully informed, extremely thoughtful, and also engagingly written and a joy to read. Guiding us vividly among the landscapes and related story-tellings of the Western Apache, Basso explores in a highly readable way the role of language in the complex but compelling theme of a people's attachment to place. An important book by an eminent scholar."--Alvin M. Josephy, Jr.
Most of us use the term "sense of place" often and rather carelessly when we think of nature or home or literature. Our senses of place, however, come not only from our individual experiences but also from our cultures. "Wisdom Sits in Places," the first sustained study of places and place-names by an anthropologist, explores place, places, and what they mean to a particular group of people, the Western Apache in Arizona. For more than thirty years, Keith Basso has been doing fieldwork among the Western Apache, and now he shares with us what he has learned of Apache place-names--where they come from and what they mean to Apaches.
"This is indeed a brilliant exposition of landscape and language in the world of the Western Apache. But it is more than that. Keith Basso gives us to understand something about the sacred and indivisible nature of words and place. And this is a universal equation, a balance in the universe. Place may be the first of all concepts; it may be the oldest of all words."--N. Scott Momaday
"In "Wisdom Sits in Places" Keith Basso lifts a veil on the most elemental poetry of human experience, which is the naming of the world. In so doing he invests his scholarship with that rarest of scholarly qualities: a sense of spiritual exploration. Through his clear eyes we glimpse the spirit of a remarkable people and their land, and when we look away, we see our own world afresh."--William deBuys
"A very exciting book--authoritative, fully informed, extremely thoughtful, and also engagingly written and a joy to read. Guiding us vividly among the landscapes and related story-tellings of the Western Apache, Basso explores in a highly readable way the role of language in the complex but compelling theme of a people's attachment to place. An important book by an eminent scholar."--Alvin M. Josephy, Jr.
192 pages, Paperback
First published August 1, 1996
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March 24, 2015
Wal-Mart, McDonalds, Shell, Safeway, the highway matrix — everyone knows these culturally significant features of our landscape. Less well known are the natural features of the land: the hills, prairies, ponds, and streams. Our landscape watched the mammoths roam, it watched the furious madness of civilization, and it will watch the manmade eyesores dissolve into ancient ruins.
Waking up in the civilized world each morning is a jolt — jets, sirens, the endless rumble of machines. Most of us live amidst hordes of two-legged tumbleweeds, nameless strangers. We are the people from nowhere, blown out of our ancestral homelands by the howling winds of ambition and misfortune. Our wild ancestors never lived here. Carson McCullers wrote, “To know who you are, you have to have a place to come from.”
Pssst! Over here! I’ve found the entrance to another realm, a temporary place of refuge, an escape from the madness. It’s called Wisdom Sits in Places, and it was written by Keith Basso (1940-2013), an ethnographer-linguist. In 1959, he began spending time in the Apache village of Cibecue, in Arizona. He discovered a culture that had deep roots in the land, and a way of living that was far from insane.
The Apache culture also had entrances to other realms. Many places on their land had names, and many of these named places were associated with stories, and many of these stories had ancient roots. Everyone in Cibecue knew the named places, and their stories. The voices of the wild ancestors could be heard whenever the stories were told, and their words were always conveyed in the present tense. “Now we are in for trouble!” Past and present swirled together.
The stories were a treasure of time-proven wisdom. They often provided moral messages that taught the virtues of honorable living, and the unpleasant rewards of poor choices. When people wandered off the good path, stories reminded them of where this would lead. They helped people to live well. Because of the power in the stories, the natives said, “The land looks after the people.”
Most scholars who spend time learning about other cultures were raised in the modern world of nowhere. These experts would study languages, ceremonies, food production, clothing, spirituality, and so on — but they paid too little attention to the relationship between culture and place, because this notion was absent in their way of knowing. Often, the reports they published were missing essential components.
From 1979 to 1984, Basso worked on a project that blew his mind. The Anglo world had zero respect for sacred places when there was big money to be made. But natives didn’t want their sacred places destroyed, so they hired experts to document their culturally significant sites. Elders took Basso to see these places, and record their stories. He created a map that covered 45 square miles, and had 296 locations with Apache place names.
Ruth Patterson told Basso about her childhood in the 1920s and 1930s. In those days, families spent much time on the land, away from the village. They herded cattle, tended crops, roasted agave, and hunted. As they moved about, parents taught their children about the land. They pointed out places, spoke their names, and told the stories of those places. They wanted their children to be properly educated.
Apaches used historic stories for healing purposes. Nothing could be more impolite than directly criticizing another person, expressing anger, or providing unrequested advice. Instead, the elders used stories to “shoot” healing notions. During a conversation, they would mention the names of places having stories that would be good for the wayward person to remember. Then, hopefully, he or she would reflect on the stories, understand their relevance, and make the changes needed to return to balance.
One time, three wise women sat with a woman who was too sad. The first wise woman spoke a sentence that mentioned a place name. Then the second mentioned another place. So did the third. The sad woman recalled mental pictures of those places, and heard the ancestors’ voices speak the stories of those places. She reflected on their meanings, and the clouds lifted. She laughed. This was a gentle, effective, and brilliant act of healing. They called it “speaking with names.”
One day, Dudley Patterson was talking about stories and wisdom. Basso asked him, “What is wisdom?” Patterson replied, “It’s in these places. Wisdom sits in places.” In a long and beautiful passage, he told Basso how his grandmother explained the pursuit of wisdom. Everyone is different. Some are smart, some are half-smart, but only a few achieve wisdom. Wisdom is acquired via a long dedicated quest; no one is born with it.
When elders become wise, people can see them change. They are calm and confident. They are not fearful, selfish, or angry. They keep promises. They pay careful attention, always listening for the voices of the ancestors. Patterson’s grandmother summed it up something like this:
“Wisdom sits in places. It’s like water that never dries up. You need to drink water to stay alive, don’t you? Well, you also need to drink from places. You must remember everything about them. You must learn their names. You must remember what happened at them long ago. You must think about it and keep on thinking about it. Then your mind will become smoother and smoother. Then you will see danger before it happens. You will walk a long way and live a long time. You will be wise. People will respect you.”
Years later, when Basso sat down to write his book, Cibecue had changed. The road to the village had been paved, and there was a school, supermarket, medical clinic, and many new houses. Big screen televisions were a new source of stories, sent from the spirit world of corporations, not ancestors. People were spending far less time wandering about, old trails had grown over, and the younger generations were losing their connection to the land and its old-fashioned stories. They preferred the new and useful information provided at school.
So, the book invites us to contemplate a society far different from our own. It calls up ancient memories. Everyone’s wild ancestors once lived in a way something like the Apaches. It’s inspiring to remember this. Observing the world from a tribal perspective allows us to realize how far we’ve strayed. The people from nowhere are paying a terrible price for the frivolous wonders of modernity, and the wreckage it leaves behind.
Basso wrote, “We are, in a sense, the place-worlds we imagine.” Prince Charles said it a bit differently: “In so many ways we are what we are surrounded by, in the same way as we are what we eat.” In the traditional Apache world, the people were surrounded by a beautiful culture that encouraged respect, caring, and wisdom. In the modern consumer world, we’re surrounded by a wisdom-free nightmare of hurricane-force infantile energy reminiscent of a Godzilla movie. But all hurricanes die. Our Dark Age will pass. Think positive!
Waking up in the civilized world each morning is a jolt — jets, sirens, the endless rumble of machines. Most of us live amidst hordes of two-legged tumbleweeds, nameless strangers. We are the people from nowhere, blown out of our ancestral homelands by the howling winds of ambition and misfortune. Our wild ancestors never lived here. Carson McCullers wrote, “To know who you are, you have to have a place to come from.”
Pssst! Over here! I’ve found the entrance to another realm, a temporary place of refuge, an escape from the madness. It’s called Wisdom Sits in Places, and it was written by Keith Basso (1940-2013), an ethnographer-linguist. In 1959, he began spending time in the Apache village of Cibecue, in Arizona. He discovered a culture that had deep roots in the land, and a way of living that was far from insane.
The Apache culture also had entrances to other realms. Many places on their land had names, and many of these named places were associated with stories, and many of these stories had ancient roots. Everyone in Cibecue knew the named places, and their stories. The voices of the wild ancestors could be heard whenever the stories were told, and their words were always conveyed in the present tense. “Now we are in for trouble!” Past and present swirled together.
The stories were a treasure of time-proven wisdom. They often provided moral messages that taught the virtues of honorable living, and the unpleasant rewards of poor choices. When people wandered off the good path, stories reminded them of where this would lead. They helped people to live well. Because of the power in the stories, the natives said, “The land looks after the people.”
Most scholars who spend time learning about other cultures were raised in the modern world of nowhere. These experts would study languages, ceremonies, food production, clothing, spirituality, and so on — but they paid too little attention to the relationship between culture and place, because this notion was absent in their way of knowing. Often, the reports they published were missing essential components.
From 1979 to 1984, Basso worked on a project that blew his mind. The Anglo world had zero respect for sacred places when there was big money to be made. But natives didn’t want their sacred places destroyed, so they hired experts to document their culturally significant sites. Elders took Basso to see these places, and record their stories. He created a map that covered 45 square miles, and had 296 locations with Apache place names.
Ruth Patterson told Basso about her childhood in the 1920s and 1930s. In those days, families spent much time on the land, away from the village. They herded cattle, tended crops, roasted agave, and hunted. As they moved about, parents taught their children about the land. They pointed out places, spoke their names, and told the stories of those places. They wanted their children to be properly educated.
Apaches used historic stories for healing purposes. Nothing could be more impolite than directly criticizing another person, expressing anger, or providing unrequested advice. Instead, the elders used stories to “shoot” healing notions. During a conversation, they would mention the names of places having stories that would be good for the wayward person to remember. Then, hopefully, he or she would reflect on the stories, understand their relevance, and make the changes needed to return to balance.
One time, three wise women sat with a woman who was too sad. The first wise woman spoke a sentence that mentioned a place name. Then the second mentioned another place. So did the third. The sad woman recalled mental pictures of those places, and heard the ancestors’ voices speak the stories of those places. She reflected on their meanings, and the clouds lifted. She laughed. This was a gentle, effective, and brilliant act of healing. They called it “speaking with names.”
One day, Dudley Patterson was talking about stories and wisdom. Basso asked him, “What is wisdom?” Patterson replied, “It’s in these places. Wisdom sits in places.” In a long and beautiful passage, he told Basso how his grandmother explained the pursuit of wisdom. Everyone is different. Some are smart, some are half-smart, but only a few achieve wisdom. Wisdom is acquired via a long dedicated quest; no one is born with it.
When elders become wise, people can see them change. They are calm and confident. They are not fearful, selfish, or angry. They keep promises. They pay careful attention, always listening for the voices of the ancestors. Patterson’s grandmother summed it up something like this:
“Wisdom sits in places. It’s like water that never dries up. You need to drink water to stay alive, don’t you? Well, you also need to drink from places. You must remember everything about them. You must learn their names. You must remember what happened at them long ago. You must think about it and keep on thinking about it. Then your mind will become smoother and smoother. Then you will see danger before it happens. You will walk a long way and live a long time. You will be wise. People will respect you.”
Years later, when Basso sat down to write his book, Cibecue had changed. The road to the village had been paved, and there was a school, supermarket, medical clinic, and many new houses. Big screen televisions were a new source of stories, sent from the spirit world of corporations, not ancestors. People were spending far less time wandering about, old trails had grown over, and the younger generations were losing their connection to the land and its old-fashioned stories. They preferred the new and useful information provided at school.
So, the book invites us to contemplate a society far different from our own. It calls up ancient memories. Everyone’s wild ancestors once lived in a way something like the Apaches. It’s inspiring to remember this. Observing the world from a tribal perspective allows us to realize how far we’ve strayed. The people from nowhere are paying a terrible price for the frivolous wonders of modernity, and the wreckage it leaves behind.
Basso wrote, “We are, in a sense, the place-worlds we imagine.” Prince Charles said it a bit differently: “In so many ways we are what we are surrounded by, in the same way as we are what we eat.” In the traditional Apache world, the people were surrounded by a beautiful culture that encouraged respect, caring, and wisdom. In the modern consumer world, we’re surrounded by a wisdom-free nightmare of hurricane-force infantile energy reminiscent of a Godzilla movie. But all hurricanes die. Our Dark Age will pass. Think positive!
May 28, 2017
Honestly this book (or at least excerpts of it) should be required reading for all historians, the end, thank you, good bye. The opening essay ("Quoting the Ancestors") introduces this idea of "place-making" and is really incredible and guys I cannot stress to you how much you should read this just for that, honestly. Basso notes in his introduction that some of the essays overlap in their content, and that is true in some ways--the further you get into the book, the more perhaps it becomes (rightfully so!) about the Western Apache at Cibecue specifically, and so may feel less "universalized" than the opening essay, but I really do think those essays as well are rich with things for historians to consider.
May 7, 2020
Basso has some fabulous thinking about the connection between story and place, and how story serves the Apache people's sense of place. One thing that stood out to me was his assertion that we should be saying "sensing of place" rather than "sense of place."
He says that "places actively sensed amount to substantially more than points in physical space."
I loved this book & learned so much, especially from Section 3.
"...being from somewhere is always preferable to being from nowhere. All of us, it asserts, are generally better off with a place to call our own. Places, it reminds us, are really very good."
He says that "places actively sensed amount to substantially more than points in physical space."
I loved this book & learned so much, especially from Section 3.
"...being from somewhere is always preferable to being from nowhere. All of us, it asserts, are generally better off with a place to call our own. Places, it reminds us, are really very good."
July 23, 2020
A singular book, taking readers into the "landscape of the moral imagination" of the Western Apache people. The wisdom of the ancestors is transmitted through stories that are anchored at places. You are reminded (or you remind others) of places as a source of correction or guidance. The book also covers Basso's journey into this community. We meet his friends and glimpse their lives. Beautifully written, and a winner of a literary non-fiction prize.
November 26, 2024
Easiest five stars I've ever given
June 22, 2024
3.5 | been having school curriculum withdraws recently so i decided to read this book recommended by my anthropology professor for my minor! took a while to read bc at the start i was like yesss academic texts 😁 and then a couple days later was like academic texts 😐….. this was a good one though imo because it didn’t always quite read as a typical academic text but when it did…. oh brother i was slipping. i really liked the section that told the apache historical tales and ofc hearing the lore of the apache places. loved the reminder that putting value on the physical documentation of culture is problematic!!!!!! a good little antro read.
February 26, 2022
This is a book I wouldn’t have picked up on my own. My daughter Monica gave it to me. I enjoy stories about language, names, and story itself, so why not? Though some of the analytical passages are dense and obscure, the “story” part is fascinating. Physical location —> association with events —> stories ingrained from many repetitions —> internal application of the lessons implicit in the stories= steps on the path to wisdom.
January 16, 2021
A timeless study, intelligently and insightfully narrated
May 4, 2023
I feel like I've always been more sensitive to physical places than maybe the average person in my community, and I love that this book gave me some new vocabulary to articulate those sensitivities. According to Basso, the Western Apache people value places as physical locations where ancestors have left trails of wisdom. Thus, the attentive mind can access that ancestral wisdom by "drinking from the place." Basso also occasionally dips into linguistics, which I find fascinating.
I feel like Basso doesn't always have a great handle on the rhythm of his writing—it's a little clunky at times. Also, I don't want to ignore the risks of overgeneralization and oversimplification that come when a white reader (me) is reading a book by a white author about the entire Western Apache people. BUT that being said, this book engages with some fascinating ideas, and Basso generally seems aware of the delicacy needed for his role as a white ethnographer researching a nonwhite community. So I would still recommend this book to anyone interested in storytelling, language, and sense of place.
I feel like Basso doesn't always have a great handle on the rhythm of his writing—it's a little clunky at times. Also, I don't want to ignore the risks of overgeneralization and oversimplification that come when a white reader (me) is reading a book by a white author about the entire Western Apache people. BUT that being said, this book engages with some fascinating ideas, and Basso generally seems aware of the delicacy needed for his role as a white ethnographer researching a nonwhite community. So I would still recommend this book to anyone interested in storytelling, language, and sense of place.
August 11, 2020
A touching bit of thesis reading.
Keith Basso recounts his musings from the Western Apache town of Cibecue, AZ. As a young scholar, Basso sets out to record Western Apache “place-names” on physical maps. In time, Basso discovers that Apaches essentially find Westernized maps useless, because to them places are deeply enmeshed with memory, folk wisdom, socialization, family, and community, rather than simply being referential landmarks in a desert landscape.
Basso spends time deconstructing the myriad meanings behind place-names—semiotically, linguistically, historically—and interspersing his own delightful memories of Cibecue and its quirky inhabitants.
What a great primer for decolonizing notions of history, place, and wisdom.
Keith Basso recounts his musings from the Western Apache town of Cibecue, AZ. As a young scholar, Basso sets out to record Western Apache “place-names” on physical maps. In time, Basso discovers that Apaches essentially find Westernized maps useless, because to them places are deeply enmeshed with memory, folk wisdom, socialization, family, and community, rather than simply being referential landmarks in a desert landscape.
Basso spends time deconstructing the myriad meanings behind place-names—semiotically, linguistically, historically—and interspersing his own delightful memories of Cibecue and its quirky inhabitants.
What a great primer for decolonizing notions of history, place, and wisdom.
September 23, 2023
The book in centered around one theme: Stories about places that have lessons that can be learned attached to them. It follows Bassos own journey to uncover the implications this system has on apache society with increasingly deep understanding.
That in of it self would have probably already been a great read worth 4-5 stars... But just when you think you are nearing the epiloge the small question "What is wisdom" leads us to the title of the book as well as some really deep conclusions that you would more expect in a "modern" self help book such as 7-habits or Dale Carnegie (I won't spoiler - you have to read yourself), than in a ethnographic book on apache indians.
I can highly recommend this; if just for the few pages at the end. I will probably reread this in the future.
That in of it self would have probably already been a great read worth 4-5 stars... But just when you think you are nearing the epiloge the small question "What is wisdom" leads us to the title of the book as well as some really deep conclusions that you would more expect in a "modern" self help book such as 7-habits or Dale Carnegie (I won't spoiler - you have to read yourself), than in a ethnographic book on apache indians.
I can highly recommend this; if just for the few pages at the end. I will probably reread this in the future.
July 18, 2019
A neat introduction to anthropology and ethnography. There are four essays featuring local Apache characters and illustrating how place-names feature/function in Western Apache language use. Good food for thought in my language and society class :)
September 6, 2022
Such a unique writing style. I loved this book so much.
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September 20, 2022Really fantastic application of phenomenology in an ethnographic context.
May 8, 2025
Fundamentally changed the way I think about places and the relationships people can have with them.
September 11, 2025
This book is an ethnographic study of the Western Apache naming system and the culture that surrounds it. A fascinating system in itself that works tk include history and moral within a name, the most interesting content for me was the consequences on spoken language this system had, how these additional capabilities of name allowed conversation and interpersonal interactions to shift, and how the aspirations the Western Apache have for the use of names may fall short of any language’s capability. See Entish.
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October 2, 2023Yess I love anthropology 🥲🥲
February 10, 2021
This is a collection of four essays which the author wrote at different times over the course of a few years. It is distinct from most works like this in two respects. First, the chapters are clearly related to and build on each other to reach a final conclusion. Second, there is very little redundancy over the course of the essays.
Furthermore, Wisdom is based on solid scholarship. Over the course of 15 years Basso collected conversations he had with and folklore he was told by a handful of Western Apache elders. He then subjected these to a very thorough, nuanced, and textured analysis which described and explained the belief systems, social mores, and interactions that members of this nation have with each other. Carefully integrated with and used to elaborate on his observations were concepts drawn from three sources. The first were such renowned experts in Native American Studies as DeLoria, Momoday, and Silko. The second were expert anthropologists like Boaz. The third were western philosophers like Spinoza, Heidegger, Sartre, and Camus. All of these were documented in 8 pages of footnotes. Additionally, there was a 6 page bibliography.
Although this is a linguistic ethnographic study, the author use of technical language was thankfully, for a reader like me who knows little of that field, limited. Also, his prose was direct and quite readable. Finally, he made use of some photos. Thus, Wisdom was both very informative and quite engaging. I recommend it highly for anyone like myself with an interest in Native American Studies. Or for anyone who likes to read about how a culture has shaped and used its spirtual beliefs and folklore to instruct its members on its social mores.
Furthermore, Wisdom is based on solid scholarship. Over the course of 15 years Basso collected conversations he had with and folklore he was told by a handful of Western Apache elders. He then subjected these to a very thorough, nuanced, and textured analysis which described and explained the belief systems, social mores, and interactions that members of this nation have with each other. Carefully integrated with and used to elaborate on his observations were concepts drawn from three sources. The first were such renowned experts in Native American Studies as DeLoria, Momoday, and Silko. The second were expert anthropologists like Boaz. The third were western philosophers like Spinoza, Heidegger, Sartre, and Camus. All of these were documented in 8 pages of footnotes. Additionally, there was a 6 page bibliography.
Although this is a linguistic ethnographic study, the author use of technical language was thankfully, for a reader like me who knows little of that field, limited. Also, his prose was direct and quite readable. Finally, he made use of some photos. Thus, Wisdom was both very informative and quite engaging. I recommend it highly for anyone like myself with an interest in Native American Studies. Or for anyone who likes to read about how a culture has shaped and used its spirtual beliefs and folklore to instruct its members on its social mores.
December 3, 2017
This Academic work was a challenging read and has been sitting next to my bed for months (inexcusable for a book less than 200 pages). Interesting premise of how Western Apache culture ties location names to instructional tales correct behavior, less interesting in execution unless you're into Academic lit but I should have known that going in so that's on me.
August 11, 2024
Fascinating. “Losing the land is something the Western Apaches can ill afford to do, for geographical features have served the people for centuries as indispensable mnemonic pegs on which to hang the moral teachings of their history.”
Every culture has places that convey a powerful emotion, lesson, warning. Basso explains how “speaking with [these place] names” is a reminder of ancestral knowledge that can clarify and indicate how to cope with difficult problems.
The book connected in my mind with The Next Generation episode “Darmok,” in which communication is through metaphor, referencing a story that encapsulates shared meaning.
Every culture has places that convey a powerful emotion, lesson, warning. Basso explains how “speaking with [these place] names” is a reminder of ancestral knowledge that can clarify and indicate how to cope with difficult problems.
The book connected in my mind with The Next Generation episode “Darmok,” in which communication is through metaphor, referencing a story that encapsulates shared meaning.
June 21, 2023
great perspetive.
August 19, 2018
A beautifully written, insightful book on the relationships between language and landscape, space and time, among the Western Apache people of Cibecue. The stories here articulate how histories are lived in the present and how the land itself carries many voices full of the knowledge, context, and wisdom of generations building on and revisiting one another. The relationship between language and landscape is rarely discussed with such care and nuance, and the work between Basso and his mentors show how important and eye-opening it can be to pay attention to it. Charles Henry, Nick Thompson, Lola Machuse, and Dudley Patterson are the primary voices in each of the four chapters, and their stories and relationships to the land and to their communities lingered in my mind after I had set down the book.
In the context of academia, one of the applications of the book is that it is effectively a guidebook for aspiring linguistic anthropologists and anthropological linguists. Although it is not written for that purpose, Basso points out difficulties and false assumptions along his way and demonstrates how respectful, collaborative research allows for a work that all people involved can feel well represented by. Basso is very open about both his stumbles and his influences as he contextualizes this research in a broader academic discourse. He openly acknowledges the crucial mentorship of the individuals who helped him understand their culture and who very much wrote this book with him.
All in all, this was a joy to read.
In the context of academia, one of the applications of the book is that it is effectively a guidebook for aspiring linguistic anthropologists and anthropological linguists. Although it is not written for that purpose, Basso points out difficulties and false assumptions along his way and demonstrates how respectful, collaborative research allows for a work that all people involved can feel well represented by. Basso is very open about both his stumbles and his influences as he contextualizes this research in a broader academic discourse. He openly acknowledges the crucial mentorship of the individuals who helped him understand their culture and who very much wrote this book with him.
All in all, this was a joy to read.
May 21, 2023
This is not the type of book you can only read once and fully grasp its depth. There were so many times I had to reread lines to try and absorb its complexities but in the desire to not get caught up I kept moving forward. This taught me a level of appreciation for language, place-names, and mental resilience/stability that I didn't even know was craving such intense reassurance, exposure, and remembrance - until it was fulfilled.
Basso's care for detail and inner knowing to speak less and listen more gives me some hope. The creation of this piece requires immense patience and constant forward momentum. Deep relationship building. And so much care. I felt so close to Dudley and his stories, and Ruth, a powerhouse of a woman.
Biggest personal lesson: to have mental resilience (externally) and mental steadiness (internally).
"Attachments to places may be nothing less than profound, and that when these attachments are threatened we may feel threatened well." (p. xiii) It isn't until we feel our attachment to a place is in danger that we start to appreciate the value of all it provides us, and we provide it. "Our attachment to places, like the ease with which we usually sustain them, are unthinkingly taken for granted."
"Not whitemen's maps, we've got plenty of them, but Apache maps with Apache places and names." A non-native can't help but to overlook the places a native, of any space holds so dear, even if unknowingly so.
The first part of the first chapter "Quoting the Ancestors" is one of my favorite things I've read in a long time. and here is why: "The past is a foreign country - they do things differently there - it is everywhere a land that attracts its share of visitors. and Understandably so. Passage to the past is to easy to come by, getting there is quick and efficient, and restrictions on local travel are virtually nonexistent. And however the trip unfolds, one can proceed at an undemanding place, exploring sites of special interest or moving about from place to place without feeling hurried or rushed. Which may account for the fact that returning abruptly to the county of the present, where things are apt to be rushed enough, is often somewhat jarring. No matter how often indulged, the past has a way of luring curious travelers off the beaten track. It is, after all, a country conducive to wandering, with plenty of unmarked roads, unexpected vistas, and unforeseen occurrences. (p. 3)
"What people make of their places is closely connected to what they make of themselves" (P. 7)
"From the time the Indian first set foot upon this continent, he centered his life in the natural world. He is deeply invested in the earth, committed to it both in his consciousness and in his instinct. The sense of place is paramount. Only in reference to the earth can he persist in his identity. (Momaday 1994:1)
"Storytellers are hunters for the Western Apache - and stories, arrows; and mountains, grandmothers" I love these metaphors. Which go back to a quote on p. 48 "All of these places have stories. We shoot each other with them like arrows" Metaphors of which can only be grasped and deeply understand by peoples of similar cultures and experiences...
'For where native men and women are concerned, the external world is as it appears to them to be - naturally, unproblematically, and more or less consistently - and rarely do they have reason to consider that the coherence it displays is an intricate product of their own collective manufacture. Cultures run deep..." (p.72) We are not aware of the deep intricacies of our culture, our language, the way we move, interact, and communicate. Truth be told, it's all a reflection of our culture, and we're so deeply steeped in it we don't even realize how complex and even intimidating it may be to an outsider.
"Landscapes and the places that fill them become tools for the imagination... portable possessions to which individuals can maintain deep and abiding attachments, regardless of where they travel." (p. 75) Like love, I can take the feeling and memories of the place with me, anywhere.
"persons who speak too much insult the imaginative capabilities of other people..." an effective narrator... never speaks too much; an effective narrator takes steps to "open up thinking," thereby encouraging his or her listeners to "travel in their minds." (p. 85)
"Wisdom sits in places. It's like water that never dries up. You need to drink water to stay alive, don't you? Well, you also need to drink from places." (p. 127)
"Fear and alarm present the greatest threats to maintaining mental resilience... Resilient minds do not give in too panic or fall prey to spasms of anxiety or succumb to spells of crippling worry. Largely immune to emotional turbulence, they do not become agitated or disoriented. Even in terrifying circumstances, resilient minds maintain their ability to reason clearly and thus neither "block themselves" nor "stand in their own way"(p. 132)
"The sense of "steady" ... is that which one associates with a post driven firmly into the ground. The post is stable, it does not wobble, and therefore it is reliable. But the post itself is not responsible for these desirable attributes... the post's readiness is imported by the hole in which it is lodged, and this is the notion - a "supportive and accommodating space"
"steady human minds maintain themselves in a manner that ensures their own stability and reliability. This is achieved by relinquishing all thoughts of personal superiority and by eliminating aggressive feelings towards fellow human beings...steady minds are unhampered by feelings of arrogance or pride, anger or vindictiveness, jealousy or lust - all of which present serious hindrances to calm and measured thinking. (p.133)
"The man who sings along is far too proud. His mind is not smooth. He thinks only of himself." (p. 137) Build community, work together, you can't go at it alone. Selfishness and individuality will not be rewarded in a species bound but tribal connectivity.
"... the character of the thing emerges from the qualities of its ingredients." (p. 145)
Basso's care for detail and inner knowing to speak less and listen more gives me some hope. The creation of this piece requires immense patience and constant forward momentum. Deep relationship building. And so much care. I felt so close to Dudley and his stories, and Ruth, a powerhouse of a woman.
Biggest personal lesson: to have mental resilience (externally) and mental steadiness (internally).
"Attachments to places may be nothing less than profound, and that when these attachments are threatened we may feel threatened well." (p. xiii) It isn't until we feel our attachment to a place is in danger that we start to appreciate the value of all it provides us, and we provide it. "Our attachment to places, like the ease with which we usually sustain them, are unthinkingly taken for granted."
"Not whitemen's maps, we've got plenty of them, but Apache maps with Apache places and names." A non-native can't help but to overlook the places a native, of any space holds so dear, even if unknowingly so.
The first part of the first chapter "Quoting the Ancestors" is one of my favorite things I've read in a long time. and here is why: "The past is a foreign country - they do things differently there - it is everywhere a land that attracts its share of visitors. and Understandably so. Passage to the past is to easy to come by, getting there is quick and efficient, and restrictions on local travel are virtually nonexistent. And however the trip unfolds, one can proceed at an undemanding place, exploring sites of special interest or moving about from place to place without feeling hurried or rushed. Which may account for the fact that returning abruptly to the county of the present, where things are apt to be rushed enough, is often somewhat jarring. No matter how often indulged, the past has a way of luring curious travelers off the beaten track. It is, after all, a country conducive to wandering, with plenty of unmarked roads, unexpected vistas, and unforeseen occurrences. (p. 3)
"What people make of their places is closely connected to what they make of themselves" (P. 7)
"From the time the Indian first set foot upon this continent, he centered his life in the natural world. He is deeply invested in the earth, committed to it both in his consciousness and in his instinct. The sense of place is paramount. Only in reference to the earth can he persist in his identity. (Momaday 1994:1)
"Storytellers are hunters for the Western Apache - and stories, arrows; and mountains, grandmothers" I love these metaphors. Which go back to a quote on p. 48 "All of these places have stories. We shoot each other with them like arrows" Metaphors of which can only be grasped and deeply understand by peoples of similar cultures and experiences...
'For where native men and women are concerned, the external world is as it appears to them to be - naturally, unproblematically, and more or less consistently - and rarely do they have reason to consider that the coherence it displays is an intricate product of their own collective manufacture. Cultures run deep..." (p.72) We are not aware of the deep intricacies of our culture, our language, the way we move, interact, and communicate. Truth be told, it's all a reflection of our culture, and we're so deeply steeped in it we don't even realize how complex and even intimidating it may be to an outsider.
"Landscapes and the places that fill them become tools for the imagination... portable possessions to which individuals can maintain deep and abiding attachments, regardless of where they travel." (p. 75) Like love, I can take the feeling and memories of the place with me, anywhere.
"persons who speak too much insult the imaginative capabilities of other people..." an effective narrator... never speaks too much; an effective narrator takes steps to "open up thinking," thereby encouraging his or her listeners to "travel in their minds." (p. 85)
"Wisdom sits in places. It's like water that never dries up. You need to drink water to stay alive, don't you? Well, you also need to drink from places." (p. 127)
"Fear and alarm present the greatest threats to maintaining mental resilience... Resilient minds do not give in too panic or fall prey to spasms of anxiety or succumb to spells of crippling worry. Largely immune to emotional turbulence, they do not become agitated or disoriented. Even in terrifying circumstances, resilient minds maintain their ability to reason clearly and thus neither "block themselves" nor "stand in their own way"(p. 132)
"The sense of "steady" ... is that which one associates with a post driven firmly into the ground. The post is stable, it does not wobble, and therefore it is reliable. But the post itself is not responsible for these desirable attributes... the post's readiness is imported by the hole in which it is lodged, and this is the notion - a "supportive and accommodating space"
"steady human minds maintain themselves in a manner that ensures their own stability and reliability. This is achieved by relinquishing all thoughts of personal superiority and by eliminating aggressive feelings towards fellow human beings...steady minds are unhampered by feelings of arrogance or pride, anger or vindictiveness, jealousy or lust - all of which present serious hindrances to calm and measured thinking. (p.133)
"The man who sings along is far too proud. His mind is not smooth. He thinks only of himself." (p. 137) Build community, work together, you can't go at it alone. Selfishness and individuality will not be rewarded in a species bound but tribal connectivity.
"... the character of the thing emerges from the qualities of its ingredients." (p. 145)
June 10, 2021
I appreciated this short ethnography for its explorations of Apache understandings of place, wisdom, and the role and power of landscape-based stories. The anecdotes/translated conversations are incredible, and I've come across this book recommended by Indigenous activists and scholars. I think what this book does well is introduce another way of knowing and being as legitimate and valuable, despite assumptions to the contrary about anything outside Western ways of understanding place and knowledge. I've become more critical of this book since first encountering it in undergrad, however, as several folks I've discussed it with have pointed to the limits of the intense theoretical bits and the sometimes problematic, almost caricature-like ways in which Basso describes the community members he works with. However, with those caveats, I would still recommend this book for anyone interested in understanding Apache place-based epistemology (albeit from an anthropology/ethnography lens) - the narratives/stories/conversations included in the book also speak brilliantly for themselves.
February 6, 2009
This is one of the greatest non-fiction books I've read. Basso's book is a wonderful exploration of the language of the Western Apache. He doesn't delve into the culture so much as the language, of which the historical narrative takes precedence in this book. If you have any interest in other cultures and languages, want to learn just how much one's language shapes the way one thinks, want to learn how the Apache "speak with names", how to "stalk with stories", and how wisdom can sit in places, then read this. Learn how a people's culture and language are intimately linked to their land by reading Basso's book.
August 7, 2016
"The stories cannot be separated from geographic locations, from actual physical places within the land...And the stories are so much part of these places that it is almost impossible for future generations to lose the stories because there are so many imposing geographic elements...you cannot live in that land without asking or looking or noticing a boulder or rock. And there is always a story."
March 22, 2024
Some time ago, my wife and I picked up
Landscape and Memory
at a used bookstore while we were on vacation. As I wrote in my review for it, the book was not what either of us anticipated, more art criticism than examination of the interplay between actual landscapes and our perceptions of them. It was still an intriguing read, but I was left pondering this idea of perception and the environment, too nebulous as yet for me to fully express it myself. Wisdom Sits in Places is the answer for which I did not realize I was looking.
Focusing mostly on the Western Apache, Wisdom Sits in Places revolves around a straightforward concept that can be difficult to entirely internalize even after reading the whole book, which is that the form of a place, and the naming of it, affect how we as people interact with it. Oh, the surface level of this is easy enough to understand. On the surface, the whole idea can be reduced to place names serving as a kind of shorthand for insightful anecdotes and parables that can be applied by the wise individual to real and present situations. Yet, in this guise, the book ought to be called Memory Sits in Places, not Wisdom Sits in Places. There is more to consider before the wisdom of places becomes evident.
Apache place names are wonderfully descriptive, almost like miniature poems describing a place instead of what we English speakers traditionally conceive of as proper nouns. The description might be of the physical characteristics of a place, or of an important event that transpired there, but either way it will serve as a reference for the entire community, who will be able to have entire conversations, communication vast volumes, by making short allusions to the place and its associated stories. I wonder if English names are less descriptive because of the many external influences on the language – I was reminded of how so many of our adjectives are actually place names from older tongues, like meander being the name of a particularly winding river in ancient Greece.
These naming customs also help explain and highlight the differing approach that the Apache (and many other Native American peoples) have to history compared to what we might visualize as the rigorous study of history. To the Apache, the idea of trying to capture some kind of “true” version of past events, like a replaying of what “actually” occurred, is rather nonsensical. Their history is tied up in the places they know and name, and the stories which those places and names embody. It is a form and understanding of history much closer to storytelling than to a semi-scientific discipline, in which the essence of what happens is more important than the supposedly objective facts. It’s a fascinating mindset, and it helps me further understand the hesitation expressed by some people about Zolbrod’s effort to write down the Diné Bahaneʼ.
What, though, does it really mean for wisdom to sit in a place? Basso gives us myriad examples and anecdotes, and explores the Apache idea of wisdom, but he is not prepared, at least in this book, to dig more deeply into the question. He does not explore other cultures’ ideas of wisdom and its ties to locality, and he does not back out from his focus on the Apache to examine more broadly the human mental relationship with the environment. In that sense, I think the book could have benefited from being twice as long, or even longer, to explore these ideas more thoroughly. I remain convinced that the way we perceive our environments affects how we think, and that how we think affects our environments, in an inextricable way, and what Basso highlights about the Apache brings me closer to more fully realizing that notion.
A little like The Cutting-Off Way, this book is also a collection of extended, scholarly essays that were published independently before being gathering together into a single text, but that does not detract from the overall integrity of the book, nor from the reading experience. This is both scholarly and anecdotal, a blend of ethnography, history, philosophy, and memoir, with all of it interesting. However you come to it, I think you stand to gain fresh insight from reading Wisdom Sits in Places.
March 7, 2022
Wisdom Sits In Places is the best nonfiction book I’ve ever read. The author, Keith Basso, is a seasoned anthropologist who reveals the Apache’s remarkable connection between landscape and language and how it’s intertwined with morality, family, and the pursuit of wisdom itself.
Basso takes the reader along in the same transformative journey that he himself navigated, starting with puzzlement, then inquisition, and finally, to understanding and discovery. The book is incredibly well-written, illustrative, and engaging. At no point is it ever dry or dull. I could literally feel my neurons rewiring in real time as I read each chapter; it forced me to think about the world differently than I ever have before.
I must admit I was skeptical about reading a book about Apache culture that was not actually written by an Apache. However, Wisdom Sits In Places really exemplifies how to come to understand an unfamiliar culture without being disrespectful, mischaracterizing them, or appropriating them. In essence, Keith Basso translates aspects of their culture into ways that an outsider can understand (without having to do 20 years of fieldwork). To do this, Basso introduces several endearing Apache characters throughout the book and they, not the author, demonstrate and reveal to you the key concepts about their culture in the same way that they revealed them to Basso.
By describing his discovery of the Apache’s interconnection between landscape, language, and morality in Apache culture, Basso also reveals how conventional research methods leave out perhaps the most integral aspects of a culture, often with devastating consequences.
The primary intended audience for the book is anthropologists, but I think it’s a relevant and important read for pretty much anyone. Although the book focuses on Apache culture, you are forced to consider the perspectives of all unfamiliar people and how often, what seems to be simple or even unintelligent is usually far more complex than initially it appears. A few of the question it led me to ask: What narratives have shaped my beliefs? How have they affected me? And how have these narratives affected other cultures in r other people?
The brilliance of this book lies in how it reveals the depth and complexity of Apache culture and simultaneously demands contemplation on how we know what we know about other cultures, other individuals, and even ourselves.
Basso takes the reader along in the same transformative journey that he himself navigated, starting with puzzlement, then inquisition, and finally, to understanding and discovery. The book is incredibly well-written, illustrative, and engaging. At no point is it ever dry or dull. I could literally feel my neurons rewiring in real time as I read each chapter; it forced me to think about the world differently than I ever have before.
I must admit I was skeptical about reading a book about Apache culture that was not actually written by an Apache. However, Wisdom Sits In Places really exemplifies how to come to understand an unfamiliar culture without being disrespectful, mischaracterizing them, or appropriating them. In essence, Keith Basso translates aspects of their culture into ways that an outsider can understand (without having to do 20 years of fieldwork). To do this, Basso introduces several endearing Apache characters throughout the book and they, not the author, demonstrate and reveal to you the key concepts about their culture in the same way that they revealed them to Basso.
By describing his discovery of the Apache’s interconnection between landscape, language, and morality in Apache culture, Basso also reveals how conventional research methods leave out perhaps the most integral aspects of a culture, often with devastating consequences.
The primary intended audience for the book is anthropologists, but I think it’s a relevant and important read for pretty much anyone. Although the book focuses on Apache culture, you are forced to consider the perspectives of all unfamiliar people and how often, what seems to be simple or even unintelligent is usually far more complex than initially it appears. A few of the question it led me to ask: What narratives have shaped my beliefs? How have they affected me? And how have these narratives affected other cultures in r other people?
The brilliance of this book lies in how it reveals the depth and complexity of Apache culture and simultaneously demands contemplation on how we know what we know about other cultures, other individuals, and even ourselves.
July 28, 2025
"the meanings of landscapes and acts of speech are personalized manifestations of a shared perspective on the human condition" (73).
"...the discourse of any speech community exhibits...a genus, a spirit...that is very much its own" (103).
"Wisdom sits in places. It's like water that never dries up...you also need to drink from places" (127).
"being from somewhere is always preferable to being from nowhere" (148).
**potential spoilers**
4/5 - For those seeking to learn more about the interconnectedness between language, places, and belonging (in the context of the Western Apache) in a friendly and understandable manner.
I was assigned this book for one of my anthropology classes and it turned out to be a fascinating read. There is always this question about whether it is important or relevant to remember history and past cultures, or to simply accept this new, contemporary world that has its own ideas and new ways of living. Of course, I think it's important to prioritize the new generations and create a safe and brighter future for them that isn't entirely caught up in tradition for tradition's sake. However, I think there is something equally as important behind sharing and understanding the past, so that everyone is able to belong somewhere.
Basso does an amazing job with recounting how selfhood and placehood are two sides of the same coin. I still can't believe how the Western Apache are able to put so much meaning into place names. Additionally, the way Basso observes and writes his ethnography is not from a superior, euro-centric perspective but rather acknowledges that this is an entirely different way of perceiving and interacting with the world. The Western Apache people draw so much culture and emotional significance out of these places as a means of making sense of the world, connecting with their ancestors, connecting with each other, and the build a more familiar relationship with the environment. Wisdom is far form an easy thing to acquire, but to these people, it is guarded with much respect and is deeply rooted within these placenames. These place names are not just a land marker but build community, relationships, and their identities.
"...the discourse of any speech community exhibits...a genus, a spirit...that is very much its own" (103).
"Wisdom sits in places. It's like water that never dries up...you also need to drink from places" (127).
"being from somewhere is always preferable to being from nowhere" (148).
**potential spoilers**
4/5 - For those seeking to learn more about the interconnectedness between language, places, and belonging (in the context of the Western Apache) in a friendly and understandable manner.
I was assigned this book for one of my anthropology classes and it turned out to be a fascinating read. There is always this question about whether it is important or relevant to remember history and past cultures, or to simply accept this new, contemporary world that has its own ideas and new ways of living. Of course, I think it's important to prioritize the new generations and create a safe and brighter future for them that isn't entirely caught up in tradition for tradition's sake. However, I think there is something equally as important behind sharing and understanding the past, so that everyone is able to belong somewhere.
Basso does an amazing job with recounting how selfhood and placehood are two sides of the same coin. I still can't believe how the Western Apache are able to put so much meaning into place names. Additionally, the way Basso observes and writes his ethnography is not from a superior, euro-centric perspective but rather acknowledges that this is an entirely different way of perceiving and interacting with the world. The Western Apache people draw so much culture and emotional significance out of these places as a means of making sense of the world, connecting with their ancestors, connecting with each other, and the build a more familiar relationship with the environment. Wisdom is far form an easy thing to acquire, but to these people, it is guarded with much respect and is deeply rooted within these placenames. These place names are not just a land marker but build community, relationships, and their identities.
September 14, 2024
A friend recommended this to me as their favorite nonfiction to help me in my continuing foray into the (theoretically) less fantastical and fictitious. I think one reason it was mostly successful for me is because it did have some fantastical ingredients, which helped solidify -- or "smooth," as perhaps the Apache would see it -- my mind enough to absorb at least some of the larger messages at hand. Against their advice, I opted for the audio, which I think was somehow simultaneously a hindrance and a help on this particular topic. I believe that the audio helped to authenticate the stories and ideas Basso was trying to convey; Apache feels to me like language that should be heard moreso than read, so actually listening to the narrative made me feel more connected to the people behind the words. I think that's an element that wasn't necessarily explored much in Basso's work; he spoke at length about the importance of attaching "wisdom" to actual physical locations, and that makes a lot of sense to me, but I think part of the importance lies in who you hear the stories from. You don't just think of the story behind the place when you see it; you think of the person, or people, that told you the stories in the first place, and how their messages connect and shape you.
The problem in listening instead of reading on your own is you have to rely on the reader for nuance and pacing, and there were places where I felt that Steven J. Cohen faltered a bit. Overall, he seemed to do an excellent job with staying true to the spirit of the piece; I don't know Apache, but it sounded like he put a lot of effort into ensuring his pronunciations were accurate. Even so, I have a bad habit of just zoning out when nonfiction is being read, because I am a weak person who has to constantly struggle to make my brain try to learn anything of substance. I blame video games.
Anyway. Although I'm sure I missed a lot of the more academic points, I think I picked up most of the actual meaning of the book, and I think it was lovely.
The problem in listening instead of reading on your own is you have to rely on the reader for nuance and pacing, and there were places where I felt that Steven J. Cohen faltered a bit. Overall, he seemed to do an excellent job with staying true to the spirit of the piece; I don't know Apache, but it sounded like he put a lot of effort into ensuring his pronunciations were accurate. Even so, I have a bad habit of just zoning out when nonfiction is being read, because I am a weak person who has to constantly struggle to make my brain try to learn anything of substance. I blame video games.
Anyway. Although I'm sure I missed a lot of the more academic points, I think I picked up most of the actual meaning of the book, and I think it was lovely.
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