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Category: Independent

There There

Posted on August 15, 2020October 25, 2021 by Aahnix Bathurst

Cover of "There There." The background is a reddish orange. Each word of the title is underlined with a thick black-and-white feather.

There There is a terrific semi-autobiographical novel written by Tommy Orange, an Indigenous author of Cheyenne and Arapaho ancestry who grew up in Oakland, California.

The book is a collection of nonlinearly interwoven stories, unflinchingly following 12 Native American characters, as their lives lead them to a nation-wide intertribal meeting.

The first character is introduced shortly before present day. The stories then are set before and after, each after appearing closer and closer to the Pow-Wow, and each before revealing more of the characters’ pasts. Orange uses the introduction of a new character in a story to feature them in a following story, either in a sort of a prequel or a sequel to the story the character first appears in. 

Most of the characters in There There are a reflection of a piece of Orange’s life or experiences. Orange brilliantly manages prevent his characters from feeling flat while making it very clear which facet of his life the character represents. We feel the pain between sisters and daughters, the ambition of children, the quiet pride of elders, and the absence in them all. Through these characters, Orange manages to represent a story that has pieces that many Native Americans can point at and say “That’s me!” or “I know them!” or “My grandmother tells me stories of her home that sound just like that!”

One book that There There is heavily reminiscent of is The Grass Dancer by Susan Powers. I actually wrote a review of it here. While Orange’s book is based in the city and Powers’ is on a reservation, both are nonlinear, intergenerational narratives that tell the story of a Native experience. The Grass Dancer takes Indigenous Medicine rather seriously, with curses and visits from ancestors long dead playing a central role in the story. In Orange’s update, Indigenous Medicine feels lost, relegated to myth and legend; knowledge of how to interact with the world beyond our own has been lost to his characters.

Orange clearly owns being an “urban Indian.” He successfully shares the idea that Native People are not the fetishized mascots and trademarks of sports teams or butter companies. His characters show that Native People are People. Flawed, sometimes directionless and lost, other times following their compass in purposeful direction, still damaged from the attempted genocide.

An excellent gift for any high schooler, this book deserves five stars of five stars. Tommy Orange encapsulates urban indigeneity in an easily-read yet thought-provoking masterpiece.

If you liked There There, you may enjoy Susan Power’s The Grass Dancer (described above), Trevor Noah’s Born a Crime (chronicling Noah’s life in South Africa), Chinua Achebe’s Things Fall Apart (an intergenerational trilogy set in southeastern Nigeria as colonization begins), Braiding Sweetgrass by Robin Wall Kimmerer (a professor, mother, and ecologist reflects on people’s relationship with land and with each other), or Min Jin Lee’s Pachinko (a multi-generational story of a family in Korea as they emigrate to Japan and live through and beyond World War II).

Recommended Titles:
The Grass Dancer, Susan Powers
Born a Crime, Trevor Noah
Braiding Sweetgrass, Robin Wall Kimmerer
Things Fall Apart, Chinua Achebe
Pachinko, Min Jin Lee

Want to buy? Check out thriftbooks! (I receive no compensation for this recommendation)

 

Posted in Independent, ReviewsTagged Fiction, Indigenous Voices, Native Voices, YA

The Grass Dancer

Posted on July 30, 2020October 21, 2021 by Aahnix Bathurst

This book blew me away. Written like a multi-generational version of Christopher Nolan’s Memento, The Grass Dancer chronicles the story of Red Dress and Ghost Horse and the intertwining stories of many families on their Dakota reservation that their lives and legacies affect. However, their stories begin much too early to appear at the beginning of the book. Instead, their indirect descendants and friends are introduced first.

Beginning in the 1981 and working mostly backward, ultimately reaching as early as 1864, Susan Power tantalizingly shares short story after short story, each one revealing more actions, motives, and consequences of their decisions. Many different characters, some who might be called good, and others who might be called bad, but none of whom are presented as evil, are introduced. These characters are either consequences of Red Dress’ and Ghost Horse’s actions or are ancillary to characters who are. The influence of Red Dress and Ghost Horse reverberate for over a century. When the two are finally truly introduced, all the loose threads waving free in the book are woven together.

Each story begins at a different date, so some re-orientation every chapter detracts from a smooth reading. However, the internal consistency and overlap between the stories and decades create an anticipatory atmosphere. Power keeps the reader eager to learn more about the depths of the characters’ past. Indeed, although the concept of time is presented largely as running straightforward, the construction of the narrative in The Grass Dancer clearly demonstrates the interaction of the past and future.

Power’s use of the supernatural adds strength to her story. In the book, the spirits of people who have died may appear to whomever they want, and can share wisdom, protect people, or threaten them. Indigenous “medicine” also works beyond science’s ability to explain. It is presented as unexplainable but as real as any natural phenomena. This magical realism allows Power to introduce Red Dress much earlier in the narrative than she could have otherwise, adding intrigue earlier. It also adds layers to the characters who either use Indigenous medicine, while showcasing the importance of dreams, where spirits are most visible and influential.

Recommended for anyone in high school or above, The Grass Dancer is a must-read for anyone interested in Native and Indigenous books, multi-generational stories, and stories of the spirit world interacting with the “real” world. If you liked this book, you will definitely enjoy Braiding Sweetgrass by Robin Wall Kimmerer (a professor, mother, and ecologist reflects on people’s relationship with land and with each other), The Murmur of Bees by Sofia Segovia (a boy with a special connection to a colony of bees protects his adoptive family through the Spanish Flu and Mexican Civil War), Min Jin Lee’s Pachinko (a multi-generational story of a family in Korea as they emigrate to Japan and live through and beyond World War II), or Akwaeke Emezi’s Freshwater (a book written with the voice of different spirits inhabiting a Nigerian immigrant woman in America).

 

Recommended Titles
Braiding Sweetgrass, Robin Wall Kimmerer
The Murmur of Bees, Sofia Segovia
Pachinko, Min Jin Lee
Freshwater, Akwaeke Emezi

This book blew me away. Written like a multi-generational version of Christopher Nolan’s Memento, The Grass Dancer chronicles the story of Red Dress and Ghost Horse and the intertwining stories of many families on their Dakota reservation that their lives and legacies affect. However, their stories begin much too early to appear at the beginning of the book. Instead, their indirect descendants and friends are introduced first.

Beginning in the 1981 and working mostly backward, ultimately reaching as early as 1864, Susan Power tantalizingly shares short story after short story, each one revealing more actions, motives, and consequences of their decisions. Many different characters, some who might be called good, and others who might be called bad, but none of whom are presented as evil, are introduced. These characters are either consequences of Red Dress’ and Ghost Horse’s actions or are ancillary to characters who are. The influence of Red Dress and Ghost Horse reverberate for over a century. When the two are finally truly introduced, all the loose threads waving free in the book are woven together.

Each story begins at a different date, so some re-orientation every chapter detracts from a smooth reading. However, the internal consistency and overlap between the stories and decades create an anticipatory atmosphere. Power keeps the reader eager to learn more about the depths of the characters’ past. Indeed, although the concept of time is presented largely as running straightforward, the construction of the narrative in The Grass Dancer clearly demonstrates the interaction of the past and future.

Power’s use of the supernatural adds strength to her story. In the book, the spirits of people who have died may appear to whomever they want, and can share wisdom, protect people, or threaten them. Indigenous “medicine” also works beyond science’s ability to explain. It is presented as unexplainable but as real as any natural phenomena. This magical realism allows Power to introduce Red Dress much earlier in the narrative than she could have otherwise, adding intrigue earlier. It also adds layers to the characters who either use Indigenous medicine, while showcasing the importance of dreams, where spirits are most visible and influential.

Recommended for anyone in high school or above, The Grass Dancer is a must-read for anyone interested in Native and Indigenous books, multi-generational stories, and stories of the spirit world interacting with the “real” world. If you liked this book, you will definitely enjoy Braiding Sweetgrass by Robin Wall Kimmerer (a professor, mother, and ecologist reflects on people’s relationship with land and with each other), The Murmur of Bees by Sofia Segovia (a boy with a special connection to a colony of bees protects his adoptive family through the Spanish Flu and Mexican Civil War), Min Jin Lee’s Pachinko (a  multi-generational story of a family in Korea as they emigrate to Japan and live through and beyond World War II, or Akwaeke Emizi’s Freshwater (a book written with the voice of different spirits inhabiting a Nigerian immigrant woman in America).

 

Recommended Titles
Braiding Sweetgrass, Robin Wall Kimmerer
The Murmur of Bees, Sofia Segovia
Pachinko, Min Jin Lee
Freshwater, Akwaeke Emizi

Posted in Independent, ReviewsTagged Fiction, Historical, Indigenous Voices, Magical Realism, Native Voices, YA

Bamboo People

Posted on July 30, 2020July 30, 2020 by Aahnix Bathurst

The civil war in Burma has been raging for years. Chiko lives with his mother, having so far avoided the government conscription of middle-grade boys to fight in the army. Reading illicit materials like A Tale of Two Cities in his free time, Chiko hopes to become a teacher. After being tricked into the Burmese Army, he must use his wits and friendships to succeed in the bamboo-packed Burmese jungle.

On the other side of the war, Tu Reh fights in the Karenni army for revenge. On a mission with his father, he encounters an injured Burmese Soldier. His decision forever changes his attitude toward his enemies and changes the Karenni village in which he lives.

Mitali Perkins writes with a clear straightforward prose, keeping the plot clear. Instead of telling both character’s stories in alternating chapters, Tu Reh’s narration picks up at the event that Chiko’s ends. This made the reading much smoother and clearer. Furthermore, Perkins keeps the reading level at a middle grade without oversimplifying the experiences of Chiko and Tu Reh. Despite being a war novel, Bamboo People limits graphic violence but does not shy away from death. Perkins shares just enough detail to inform the reader of the nature of wounds without sharing specific details.

Bamboo People is an excellent read but does not age with the reader. Best for middle-schoolers or early high-schoolers (11-15 years old), this book is a must-check-out from your local library. Perkins shares an inspiring story in a well-made package, but this package is best borrowed, not bought.

If you liked this book, you might like Elephant Run by Roland Smith (A young teen tries to reach his father in Japanese-occupied Burma during World War II), A Long Way Gone – Memoirs of  a Boy Soldier by Ishmael Beah (a tween boy is recruited to fight in Sierra Leone’s civil war), or A Boy Called Slow by Joseph Bruchac (a recounting of Sitting Bulls life with a focus on his childhood).

Recommended Titles
Elephant Run, Roland Smith
A Long Way Gone – Memoirs of  a Boy Soldier, Ishmael Beah
A Boy Called Slow, Joseph Bruchac

The civil war in Burma has been raging for years. Chiko lives with his mother, having so far avoided the government conscription of middle-grade boys to fight in the army. Reading illicit materials like A Tale of Two Cities in his free time, Chiko hopes to become a teacher. After being tricked into the Burmese Army, he must use his wits and friendships to succeed in the bamboo-packed Burmese jungle.

On the other side of the war, Tu Reh fights in the Karenni army for revenge. On a mission with his father, he encounters an injured Burmese Soldier. His decision forever changes his attitude toward his enemies and changes the Karenni village in which he lives.

Mitali Perkins writes with a clear straightforward prose, keeping the plot clear. Instead of telling both character’s stories in alternating chapters, Tu Reh’s narration picks up at the event that Chiko’s ends. This made the reading much smoother and clearer. Furthermore, Perkins keeps the reading level at a middle grade without oversimplifying the experiences of Chiko and Tu Reh. Despite being a war novel, Bamboo People limits graphic violence but does not shy away from death. Perkins shares just enough detail to inform the reader of the nature of wounds without sharing specific details.

Bamboo People is an excellent read but does not age with the reader. Best for middle-schoolers or early high-schoolers (11-15 years old), this book is a must-check-out from your local library. Perkins shares an inspiring story in a well-made package, but this package is best borrowed, not bought.

If you liked this book, you might like Elephant Run by Roland Smith (A young teen tries to reach his father in Japanese-occupied Burma during World War II), A Long Way Gone – Memoirs of  a Boy Soldier by Ishmael Beah (a tween boy is recruited to fight in Sierra Leone’s civil war), or A Boy Called Slow by Joseph Bruchac (a recounting of Sitting Bulls life with a focus on his childhood).

Recommended Titles
Elephant Run, Roland Smith
A Long Way Gone – Memoirs of  a Boy Soldier, Ishmael Beah
A Boy Called Slow, Joseph Bruchac

Posted in Independent, ReviewsTagged Asian Voices, Fiction, Historical, MG

Lucky Boy

Posted on July 14, 2020July 28, 2020 by Aahnix Bathurst

featured book cover

 

With a similar feel to Min Jin Lee’s Pachinko but in a magnified time snippet, Shanthi Sekaran uses Lucky Boy to share two heart-pulling stories, garnering sympathy and sadness from the reader. Although the book is named for the child, Ignacio El Viente Castro Valdez, the focus is on the boy’s mother, Soli, and his foster family, Kavya and Rishi.

Soli’s path follows that of many undocumented immigrants. Seeking a better life in America, Soli uses local community networks to begin her journey out of Mexico. After her dangerous journey, she begins a life as an undocumented housekeeper. Unexpectedly pregnant, she brings Ignacio into the world and begins to raise him. After having Ignacio, Soli reflects that “Having a child was like turning inside out and exposing to the world the soft pulp of her heart.”

Told in alternating chapters as a parallel story, Kavya and Rishi desperately want a child but are unable to conceive. Disregarding their cultural taboos, they pursue fostering and adoption. When Kavya first meets Ignacio, the two get along fabulously. Under the care of Rishi and Kavya, Ignacio thrives, lucky to have such privileged and loving foster parents. But Soli is a good mother too, and she wants her son back.

Lucky Boy begins at a steady tempo mostly due to the relatively uneventful lives of Rishi and Kavya interrupting Soli’s high-stakes journey. The last half of the book would not let me focus on anything else. Throughout my day, my eyes would dart in the direction of the book. I found myself slowing down while walking past it. What would happen to Ignacio, Soli, Kavya, and Rishi? I had to know.

featured book cover

With a similar feel to Min Jin Lee’s Pachinko but in a magnified time snippet, Shanthi Sekaran uses Lucky Boy to share two heart-pulling stories, garnering sympathy and sadness from the reader. Although the book is named for the child, Ignacio El Viente Castro Valdez, the focus is on the boy’s mother, Soli, and his foster family, Kavya and Rishi.

Soli’s path follows that of many undocumented immigrants. Seeking a better life in America, Soli uses local community networks to begin her journey out of Mexico. After her dangerous journey, she begins a life as an undocumented housekeeper. Unexpectedly pregnant, she brings Ignacio into the world and begins to raise him. After having Ignacio, Soli reflects that “Having a child was like turning inside out and exposing to the world the soft pulp of her heart.”

Told in alternating chapters as a parallel story, Kavya and Rishi desperately want a child but are unable to conceive. Disregarding their cultural taboos, they pursue fostering and adoption. When Kavya first meets Ignacio, the two get along fabulously. Under the care of Rishi and Kavya, Ignacio thrives, lucky to have such privileged and loving foster parents. But Soli is a good mother too, and she wants her son back.

Lucky Boy begins at a steady tempo mostly due to the relatively uneventful lives of Rishi and Kavya interrupting Soli’s high-stakes journey. The last half of the book would not let me focus on anything else. Throughout my day, my eyes would dart in the direction of the book. I found myself slowing down while walking past it. What would happen to Ignacio, Soli, Kavya, and Rishi? I had to know.

Posted in Independent, ReviewsTagged Family-Centric, Fiction, Hispanic Voices, YA

The Falconer

Posted on July 10, 2020July 28, 2020 by Aahnix Bathurst

featured book cover

The Falconer is a perfect book for any high school junior or senior. What does it mean to grow up? We witness Lucy in the midst of learning this question. Joining the ranks of classic coming-of-age novels like Hinton’s The Outsiders, Czapnik captures the essence of the adolescent soul.

The Falconer opens by showcasing Lucy Adler’s athletic and mental prowess. From working with her unrequited crush to obliterate the opposing team in a pick-up basketball game to calculating the parabolas the ball follows to the basket, Lucy is a force to be reckoned with. Although Lucy spends a significant time admiring her crush, Czapnik refuses to let him be the focus of her story. In addition to Percy, Lucy’s other significant friends include two artists; one a bookworm who never fails to give Lucy the perfect philosophical book to read, and another an ardent activist organizing local protests and making Lucy consider the practical implication of the philosophers she reads.

Dana Czapnik writes with the rare ability to engage with the mundane and captivate the reader’s attention. In an off-hand meta-comment, one of her characters states “If I ever write a book, I’m going to call it Not Much Happens in This Book.” Czapnik has done just this. She deftly grasps the urgency of the moment felt by maturing young adults, creating a tense, anticipatory atmosphere, yet the stakes are incredibly low; Lucy is just learning and deciding who she wants to be.

featured book cover

 

The Falconer is a perfect book for any high school junior or senior. What does it mean to grow up? We witness Lucy in the midst of learning this question. Joining the ranks of classic coming-of-age novels like Hinton’s The Outsiders, Czapnik captures the essence of the adolescent soul.

The Falconer opens by showcasing Lucy Adler’s athletic and mental prowess. From working with her unrequited crush to obliterate the opposing team in a pick-up basketball game to calculating the parabolas the ball follows to the basket, Lucy is a force to be reckoned with. Although Lucy spends a significant time admiring her crush, Czapnik refuses to let him be the focus of her story. In addition to Percy, Lucy’s other significant friends include two artists; one a bookworm who never fails to give Lucy the perfect philosophical book to read, and another an ardent activist organizing local protests and making Lucy consider the practical implication of the philosophers she reads.

Dana Czapnik writes with the rare ability to engage with the mundane and captivate the reader’s attention. In an off-hand meta-comment, one of her characters states “If I ever write a book, I’m going to call it Not Much Happens in This Book.” Czapnik has done just this. She deftly grasps the urgency of the moment felt by maturing young adults, creating a tense, anticipatory atmosphere, yet the stakes are incredibly low; Lucy is just learning and deciding who she wants to be.

Posted in Independent, ReviewsTagged Coming of Age, Fiction, YA

The Water Dancer

Posted on July 9, 2020July 28, 2020 by Aahnix Bathurst

featured book cover

Ta-Nehisi Coates’ first foray into fiction novels is a delightful success. Quickly establishing the setting, Coates immediately demonstrates the thought patterns of the main character through his first-person narrator who uses a fair bit of exposition to share his past.

Relationships that both exist and yet can never exist are one of the several themes throughout The Water Dancer. Coates deftly navigates the complexities of the relationship between Hiram and his father and confronts Hiram’s grief over his mother. The heart wrenching grief of broken and enslaved families is salient through the entire novel, and unabashedly explored from all directions.
Only the best authors can make bring magic into a book and convince the reader that it might be true, even if for a second. Ta-Nehisi Coates has proven himself to be among these gifted storytellers. Brilliantly taking the role of “Conductor” of the Underground Railroad to a new level, Coates empowers the imaginations of young readers, giving them new directions to dream and new stories to share.

In his entry to the imaginary novel, Coates assures his readers that their high expectations will be met regardless of the genre of his next work.

featured book cover

 

Ta-Nehisi Coates’ first foray into fiction novels is a delightful success. Quickly establishing the setting, Coates immediately demonstrates the thought patterns of the main character through his first-person narrator who uses a fair bit of exposition to share his past.

Relationships that both exist and yet can never exist are one of the several themes throughout The Water Dancer. Coates deftly navigates the complexities of the relationship between Hiram and his father and confronts Hiram’s grief over his mother. The heart wrenching grief of broken and enslaved families is salient through the entire novel, and unabashedly explored from all directions.
Only the best authors can make bring magic into a book and convince the reader that it might be true, even if for a second. Ta-Nehisi Coates has proven himself to be among these gifted storytellers. Brilliantly taking the role of “Conductor” of the Underground Railroad to a new level, Coates empowers the imaginations of young readers, giving them new directions to dream and new stories to share.

In his entry to the imaginary novel, Coates assures his readers that their high expectations will be met regardless of the genre of his next work.

Posted in Independent, ReviewsTagged Black Voices, Historical, Low-Fantasy, Magical Realism, YA

Braiding Sweetgrass

Posted on July 9, 2020July 29, 2020 by Aahnix Bathurst

 

Robin Wall Kimmerer has composed a majestic soul-piercing work of art in her book Braiding Sweetgrass. Using thirty-two different vignettes, Kimmerer not only conveys the need for an emotional connection to the Land, but successfully creates the bond in the reader. Kimmerer leaves the reader with a conviction to actively care for the environment. Fulfilling her responsibility, the biggest challenge for the reader is to keep the connection strong, not giving in to despair after falling from the spiritual heights her book evokes.

A gifted storyteller, Kimmerer uses a variety of storytelling methods, going so far as to construct a story using the structure of a scientific research paper. Combining her authority as a professor of botany, her deep familiarity with the culture of her tribe, and her experience as a mother, Kimmerer speaks with a kind of power that is rarely—if ever—seen. Kimmerer shares an incredible wealth of information by giving Indigenous histories, Western knowledge, and personal vignettes as she describes an individual fungus or an entire ecosystem.

Each story speaks directly to the heart. The reader is pulled into the mind of a botanist in one chapter, that of a mother in another, to a professor, and more, yet no identity is ever independent of the others. Despite spending hours delighting in Kimmerer’s wonderful thought patterns and personality, the reader is left longing for more, feeling as though they only glimpsed the outermost layer of the onion that is Kimmerer. One of few true masterpieces, Braiding Sweetgrass is a book I would recommend to everyone. Maybe then humanity will take the path of lush green grass.

Robin Wall Kimmerer has composed a majestic soul-piercing work of art in her book Braiding Sweetgrass. Using thirty-two different vignettes, Kimmerer not only conveys the need for an emotional connection to the Land, but successfully creates the bond in the reader. Kimmerer leaves the reader with a conviction to actively care for the environment. Fulfilling her responsibility, the biggest challenge for the reader is to keep the connection strong, not giving in to despair after falling from the spiritual heights her book evokes.

A gifted storyteller, Kimmerer uses a variety of storytelling methods, going so far as to construct a story using the structure of a scientific research paper. Combining her authority as a professor of botany, her deep familiarity with the culture of her tribe, and her experience as a mother, Kimmerer speaks with a kind of power that is rarely—if ever—seen. Kimmerer shares an incredible wealth of information by giving Indigenous histories, Western knowledge, and personal vignettes as she describes an individual fungus or an entire ecosystem.

Each story speaks directly to the heart. The reader is pulled into the mind of a botanist in one chapter, that of a mother in another, to a professor, and more, yet no identity is ever independent of the others. Despite spending hours delighting in Kimmerer’s wonderful thought patterns and personality, the reader is left longing for more, feeling as though they only glimpsed the outermost layer of the onion that is Kimmerer. One of few true masterpieces, Braiding Sweetgrass is a book I would recommend to everyone. Maybe then humanity will take the path of lush green grass.

Posted in Independent, ReviewsTagged Adult, Ecology, Indigenous Voices, Native Voices, Non-Fiction
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