Orange is one of a group of impressive Indigenous authors introduced to me during the Calgary Word Fest. This is a superb first novel with intersecting characters assembling in Oakland for a Pow-wow. These individuals have links to the Cheyenne and Arapaho tribes of Oklahoma but their Indian identity is very limited: these are urban Indians. For example, a young boy, Orvil Red Feather, learns pow-wow dancing from YouTube videos. The intersecting multi-generational story-lines can be complicated to follow sometimes because of uncertain or unknown parentage, but the culminating climax is presented powerfully. This is excellent story-telling about identity, violence and recovery, of belonging and un-belonging, loss and hope.
An ongoing quest to read more indigenous authors can be complicated because there can be a vast gap in the ability of a non-Indigenous reader to grasp meaning. This book by Ms. Mailhot produced an uncomfortable feeling because of her raw and uncompromising writing. The narrative unfolds as a stream-of-consciousness confession of many difficulties: foster care, parenthood and removal of children, substance abuse, complicated and often destructive relationships, mental illness, suicidal ideation … the list goes on. Although short in terms of pages (132), this book is thought-provoking and intense, and is best read in short segments (like poetry). Highly recommended but be warned that this is a tough read.
Erdrich has written an intriguing dystopian story set in the near future. The precipitating cause is biological but vague, a sort of reverse-evolution. Lack of information is critical, and so the book’s focus is on one pregnant woman. In other words, the story is not so much about the cause of the collapse of society but rather the implications for one person. I was reminded of Cormac McCarthy’s brilliant book The Road, where we never learn about the catastrophic event, just the aftermath. Erdrich is a wonderful story teller. This book has a significant Indigenous focus, albeit less than LaRose. Overall, this is an original dystopian thriller – highly recommended.
This is a fantastic Indigenous novel, set in North Dakota in 1999. There is a powerful start to the story, a tragedy on page 2. What follows is an attempted reparation, guilt and paralyzing grief; a long-standing grudge which leads to revenge; and a gradual reconciliation. The story shifts back and forth in time, and has a mystical element. There is, amidst all this angst, a delightful plainness, a simplicity that engages and delights. For example, there is a transcendent passage about a volleyball game that captures the psychology of young adolescents perfectly! Although this is a multi-generational story, it is the children who are the most complex characters, particularly in circumstances where they are forced to be mature beyond their years (similar to Glass Castle). This book is wonderful storytelling.
This is the second time that I have read this book (previously in May 2013) and the story is even better the second read. Saul Indian Horse is a victim of a 1960s scoop and suffers the horrors of a Catholic residential school (truly a cultural genocide). A redemptive time with hockey (beautiful descriptions of the game, of vision to see plays unfolding) is terminated by racism, and there is a late reveal of a brutal betrayal. But Saul becomes a survivor, not a victim. Wagamese was one of Canada’s best Indigenous writers and this is a must-read book.
Given the struggles with reconciliation and ongoing issues of cultural appropriation, I have decided to read more Indigenous authors. This novel begins in Northern Manitoba in 1951 with fishing and hunting as dominant activities in a simple but harsh life. Two brothers experience abuse at a Residential School and then settle in Winnipeg where alienation and estrangement complicates their struggle to survive. Dance and music provide a welcome respite. Although emotionally complex, the novel has a triumphant tone. And throughout, the brothers are watched over by the trickster fur queen. An excellent look at remarkable changes in Indigenous life over a 40 year period.
David notes in his review of Kiss of the Fur Queen that his intention is to read more indigenous authors, in light of the ongoing issues of reconciliation and appropriation.
I (Amy) have added a new tag, “indigenous author” so that David’s book reviews can be more easily found on this blog. After discussion with David, I have chosen to tag Joseph Boyden and Thomas King as indigenous authors, as they both identify as indigenous. I know there individual arguments for each that their identification is appropriation. An important discussion. In light of the importance of indigenous stories, I’m choosing in this context to go with authorial self-identification.