“They dance together in a line, murmuring in swift, low voices, smiling carefully as they are too proud to give away their beauty. They are light steppers with a gravity of sure grace.”
Antelope Woman, by Louise Erdrich, 2016 ed., is a story told in swift, low voices. It is the story of two families whose destinies become linked through an act of violence, of two cultures–Ojibwe and white–that become uneasily meshed, and a search for resolution that passes through generations.
The first half of the book is a family history of sorts. It begins with Scranton Roy who, having joined the U.S. cavalry, kills an old Indian woman during a raid. He then rescues a baby girl who’s been sent from the same village to save her. Caring for her until her mother, Blue Prairie Woman comes for her, he wrestles with how to make restitution to her family. His descendants inherit his sense of internal conflict, searching for how to weave together the disparate threads of their heritage.
As a reader, I found myself tapping into this unsettledness, wondering and sometimes worrying where this story was going to go. As the narrative transitioned to the present, I realized the history was not merely laying the groundwork of the story, but showing, with true artistry, the interconnectedness of family generations, how the past shapes and informs the present. The contemporary Shawano and Roy families find themselves struggling with the same themes, but not fully aware of how their past is both driving their life choices and manifesting in the deeper needs of their souls. As they learn from both their family past and from examining their own lives and hearts, they are able to bring their lives and their families back into balance.
This book was also my first experience of reading Native American fiction by a Native American author. It was an experience I had to be rather intentional about–I’ve discovered that a lot of so-called Native American literature is, unfortunately, appropriated and therefore a poor way to actually get to know another culture and its literary sense. Not knowing how much of Erdrich’s narrative style was her unique voice and how much of it drew on her heritage compelled me to confront my illiteracy of the genre several times, and to commit to widening my reading choices. And I’m so glad that I did read it, regardless of my own literary gaps–it is beautifully written, rich in its prose without unnecessary flourishes; it has delightful, messy, and complex characters; good character development; and a satisfying finish.
From Birchbark Books:
This updated edition of National Book Award-winning and New York Times bestselling author Louise Erdrich’s 1998 novel The Antelope Wife now features fascinating new content, a new title, beautiful cover art by Aza Erdrich, and a new foreword by the author—a riveting story that explores tensions between Native American and white cultures.
“This is a rewrite. I kept a few chapters, but most of this book is new. I gave my Antelope Woman her wise wildness, her unowned heart. That is why she became an Antelope Woman, not an Antelope Wife.” – Louise Erdrich
In the end, I found this book provocative, unsettling, lyrical, and redemptive in a coming-back-to-center, healing sort of way.
Four out of five stars.
Louise Erdrich is a member of the Turtle Mountain Band of Chippewa Indians.