Tall Tales

Awhile ago I was working on a collage and rifling through my horde of old postcards, looking for the right one to paste in. These aren’t picture postcards, they’re the government kind from all over the world, most of them well over a hundred years old with wonderful engravings. So, I’m flipping through and I come across one that says it’s from Chewfoo. And I thought, Chewfoo? I collected stamps for years and didn’t remember a country called Chewfoo. After a little research I found out it was a small zone in northeast China that was, for a time, an independent province with its own postage. So then I thought, well if somebody can name a place Chewfoo, I can invent a country, too, and I started by coming up with an anagram for “nowhere.” Hence, “Erewhon.”

My hoard of old government-issued postcards. Photo by Rita J. McNamara

Being a wacko artist, I just went with it. Designed a map, some faux postage and so on and began imagining life on Erewhon. For starters I decided the place was settled by exiles and runaways from the repressive Puritan colonies. A main island surrounded by a hundred or so barrier islands and shoals. Fairly isolated. They developed a guild system of resource management and craftsmanship and early on got the whole “zero waste” concept- carefully using, reusing, protecting, recycling- since when you live on an island you can’t just wreck the place and move on. After all, if they trashed the place, they’d be forced to return to the mainland, and nobody wanted that. Also a very egalitarian governing system. Every adult served a term in public office at some point in their lives, without pay or privileges attached. No campaigning, no way to lobby for the position or retain it past your term. There was no real advantage to being a governor and each just took their turn as a part of their civic responsibility. You get the gist.

Letter from the Erewhon Islands, by Rita J. McNamara

In the middle of my burgeoning and possibly deranged escapist Erewhon fantasy, a member of an art group I belonged to wrote in and asked if everybody was up for a group project. By this time I’d imagined Erewhonians into the present, masters of the recycling universe, trash scroungers par excellence, with a wide range of cottage industries. So I posted back as though I were writing from the islands. Many of the women in the group were world travelers and so a post from Thailand or whatever was nothing unusual. I sent a little note with a thumbnail history, description of weather and locale, and told how I’d been invited to the islands to participate in a paper arts conference. I said I’d send in my project contribution from the Erewhons since I planned to stay awhile. The women who belonged to this group were a savvy bunch. Accomplished artists, many of them also successful in other areas – writers, magazine editors, journalists, TV producers. Apparently my little note from Erewhon was pretty convincing because they fell for it hook, line and sinker.

Shop samples from the Erewhon Islands, by Rita J. McNamara

Before I could post a disclaimer, saying haha, pulled your leg, several of them had already googled Erewhon, thinking to come join me in the islands. They were quite bummed to hear that the place only existed in my head. In the end I decided to send my project contribution as though I was in the Erewhon Islands, including  fake hotel stationary, postage, business logos, shop samples, even a little packet of beachcomber finds. I liked the Neverland quality. After all, if “real” people – like the British Empire – could name a place Chewfoo, then I could eat cookies for supper and spend my time inventing countries, too.

Happy New Year!

Beachcomber finds from the Erewhon Islands, by Rita J. McNamara