The Sentence

 By Louise Erdrich

Harper     2021

400 pages     Literary

Louise Erdrich owns the bookstore Birchbark Books in Minneapolis, which specializes in indigenous materials. Her newest novel takes place in that bookstore, and the major protagonist is Tookie, a bookseller at the store. Louise, herself, makes an appearance as well as a ghost named Flora, who haunts Tookie every day at the store.

The first half of the book is a delight. We learn about how Tookie, an indigenous woman, makes a very stupid move and ends up in prison for ten years. She reads everything she can get her hands on while she is in prison, and when she gets released, she gets a job at Louise’s bookstore. She is really intimidating looking with black eyeliner, black stompers, a nose ring and eyebrow cuff. She says, “Who would dare not buy a book from me?”

Tookie is quite an incredible woman, and the reader is totally drawn to her. Her marriage to Pollux has its ups and downs. He was the tribal policeman who was involved in her arrest. He  says, “You could be anything. You make my brain boil. You make my heart flip over. Twist in a knot. It’s like you never learned that our choices get us where we are.” But when she reaches out her arms to meet his—he slaps handcuffs on her and arrests her. When she is released from prison, they meet again, fall in love and get married.

Life improves for Tookie and the reader is drawn into her brilliance as a bookseller, as a wife, and as a stepmother/grandmother to Pollux’s daughter and her baby. But then the pandemic hits followed by the murder of George Floyd, just down the street from the bookstore. The tone of the book changes, and the reader is caught with the ferocity of life in Minneapolis as it is engulfed in protests. Everyone is scared; everyone is worried, and the air around the bookstore is filled with tear gas.

The bookstore has closed because of the pandemic and the protests, so Tookie spends a great deal of time alone in the store, pulling books from the shelves for online orders.  “Everyone who wasn’t out on the streets wanted to read about why everyone else was out on the streets.”  Oh—and Tookie spends a great deal of time fending off Flora, the ghost, who is bound and determined to inhabit Tookie’s body, mind, and spirit. Flora plays an pivotal role in the plot so I won’t go into more details about her. The reviewer in the Washington Post says that “The novel’s ectoplasm hovers between the realms of historical horror and cultural comedy.”

Interspersed with the crazy plot is the world of books and bookstores. Tookie really knows her books and is able to pick the perfect book for her customers. Titles of books are everywhere in the text—so much so, that there is a bibliography at the end of the book. Tookie also consults a dictionary frequently, and the book begins and ends with her defining her word of the day.

There is so much going on in The Sentence that I hesitate to go much further. I was entranced with a chapter about a dinner party where the conversation is about wild rice—a conversation that could only happen in Minnesota. I laughed aloud because I had cooked a wild rice casserole for Thanksgiving and I had trouble softening the wild rice, a problem that the wild rice chapter was able to solve for me.

Additionally, the narration about the protests after the George Floyd murder was compelling and profound. Obviously the author had witnessed the mayhem firsthand. I read those chapters with great attention. My niece, Cory, had been involved in the protests as a medic, and I could almost find her on the streets with Tookie’s coworker and Tookie’s husband. Spellbinding.

Louise Erdrich is one of America’s best authors. Her recent book, The Night Watchman, won the Pulitzer Prize in 2020, and I read and reviewed The Round House in  2013. She has the unique ability to weave indigenous wisdom and history with modern sensibility. One reviewer has said, "Novelists who can create vivid, plausible, living characters are rare, but novelists who also can create a believable world and a compelling story for those characters are blessed. Louise Erdrich is blessed."

Here is a terrific review of The Sentence in the New York Times. Next time I am in Minneapolis, I am going to be sure to visit Erdrich’s store, Birchbark Books. 

You Speak for Me Now

 By Sandy Graham

Kindle Direct     2021

292 pages     Fiction

The Shortlist

You Speak for Me Now is an up-to-the-minute fictional look at the state of American politics through the eyes of a couple and their young son. John and Emma were high school sweethearts, overcoming many odds, including race and disability, to marry and develop a successful business. John becomes enamored with the possibility of becoming a politician, causing a great deal of anxiety to their relationship. Ultimately, John becomes a liberal media sensation, and the target of a conservative commentator. Their home is attacked, and Emma takes their toddler son, Peter, to Canada in order to be safe.

The summary continues: “Keeping the tension mounting, You Speak for Me Now follows John and Emma through a painful separation and vicious assaults. Undaunted by death threats, a critical injury, and coming face-to-face with gunfire, the couple continues to speak, write, and sing the truth—until their message finally gets heard and acted on.”

Through the eyes of this young couple, Graham shares his own ideological convictions and deep concerns about the current state of the country. The couple has to deal with conspiracy theories, alternative facts, social media,  vigilante groups, and systemic racism, all while espousing their own political viewpoint.

Interestingly, the story is told almost entirely through dialogue, which I discovered was a little difficult to wade through. I found myself getting lost in the dialogue in much the same way that I can get lost in too much background description.

Ultimately, You Speak for Me Now is a polemic disguised as a novel. While I agreed with most of John’s political aspirations and political viewpoints, the book ended up being too tedious for me. Specific readers, however, will probably be satisfied with Graham’s work.

I am intrigued with the author, Sandy Graham, and his journey to express his political viewpoints through his novels. Here is his website. Also an interview with reviewer, Norm Goldman. I was sent the book via his publicist. I admire Graham’s initiative and the enjoyment he gets from his writings.

Rebecca

 By Daphne du Maurier

Little, Brown     2013 edition

449 pages     Literary

How could I have gotten to my age as a voracious reader and never have read Rebecca? Thank goodness for my book group for reading it this month! This week I read the book and watched the 1940 movie with Laurence Olivier and Joan Fontaine. Can’t wait to discuss it with my book friends.

Well, enough of that. The plot is very basic. The narrator is an unnamed young woman who travels to Monte Carlo as the companion of a wealthy older woman. While there, she meets a wealthy widower, perhaps in his mid-40s. Maxim de Winter. Very handsome, very conflicted, very depressed. His wife, Rebecca, had drowned a year ago.  Maxim takes an immediate shine to the young woman, and they marry on the spur of the moment. Shortly after their marriage they return to his very famous country estate in England named Manderley. Our young narrator thinks she has arrived in heaven.

Instantly, the young Mrs. de Winter realizes that she is out of her element. There are signs of Rebecca everywhere. It is obvious that all the servants in the household are still mourning Rebecca’s death, particularly Mrs. Danvers, the housekeeper, who had a very long relationship with Rebecca and doesn’t want a new Mrs. de Winter in the house. For a long time, Mrs. de Winter’s only friend on the estate is the estate manager, Frank, who not only works for Maxim but is his best friend. He becomes the young wife’s best friend as well. For a while, I thought a romantic relationship might build between Frank and Mrs. de Winter, but Frank stays true to his job and his friendships.

The plot didn’t develop in the way I thought it would. It just slowly builds to a magnificent,  if perilous, conclusion. But the plot is only a part of the story. Du Maurier is a marvelous writer. Her descriptions of Manderley and the development of her characters is superb. I kept underlining terrific passages, and writing down questions I needed answers for.  

I was especially taken with this unfortune young woman brought into a situation for which there was no resolution. Du Maurier’s portrayal of this young woman and how lost she is in this environment is stunning and all-consuming.  She knows nothing about how to run a household, especially since Rebecca had run the household without error, planning enormous parties, and mastering horseback riding, sailing, and all the other skills of the leisure class. She is horribly intimidated by Mrs. Danvers, and ultimately with her arch nemesis, Rebecca. She is never sure of Maxim’s love and blames his distance on his grief over the loss of Rebecca. But as the story develops,  she gains confidence and a desire to take control of Manderley and her own life.

One reviewer says that in Rebecca, du Maurier “fuses psychological realism with a sophisticated version of the Cinderella story.” But in Rebecca, the handsome prince is old enough to be the narrator’s father. Of course, like all fairy tales, there is also a witch—Mrs. Danvers, who haunts the young woman’s every move.

I believe that Rebecca is worthy of every award it gained through the years, including the National Book Award for Fiction in 1938 and the Anthony Award for Best Novel of the Century in 2000. The Alfred Hitchcock 1940 film won the Oscar for Best Picture. It stayed pretty true to the novel with only slight adjustments to the conclusion. There is also a 2020 version of the film on Netflix.

 

The Secret of Snow

 By Viola Shipman/Wade Rouse

Graydon House     2021

400 pages     Fiction

I am going to begin this review with the summary that came from the Book Reporter website.

“When Sonny Dunes, a SoCal meteorologist whose job is all sunshine and 72-degree days, is replaced by a virtual meteorologist that will never age, gain weight or renegotiate its contract, the only station willing to give the 50-year-old another shot is the very place she has been avoiding since the day she left for college --- her northern Michigan hometown.

Sonny grudgingly returns to the long, cold, snowy winters of her childhood…with the added humiliation of moving back in with her mother. Not quite an outsider but no longer a local, Sonny finds her past blindsiding her everywhere: from the high school friends she ghosted, to the former journalism classmate and mortal frenemy who’s now her boss, to, most keenly, the death years ago of her younger sister, who loved the snow.

To distract herself from the memories she's spent her life trying to outrun, Sonny throws herself headfirst into covering every small-town winter event to woo a new audience, made more bearable by a handsome widower with optimism to spare. But with someone trying to undermine her efforts to rebuild her career, Sonny must make peace with who she used to be and allow her heart to thaw if she’s ever going to find a place she can truly call home.”

The setting for The Secret of Snow is the marvelous city of Traverse City, Michigan in winter, and Rouse completely captures the unique nature of a snowy Michigan winter. The narrative describes snowstorms and slippery roads, but it also helps us tune in to snow angels, snowmen, and a variety of snow festivals and ice fishing that make for a fabulous Michigan winter. I say “fabulous” rather tongue-in-cheek because it is snowing tonight as I write this review, and I am frankly not feeling too “fabulous” about it.

Like Rouse’s other works, he speaks very effectively through the voice of a woman, touching the heart as well as the sensibilities of a woman. He uses the pen name of his grandmother, Viola Shipman, for a reason. He knows his audience well. One of Rouse’s great gifts is to weave a great story filled with introspection. One of the reasons his novels relate to women of a certain age is that very few of us have lived lives without tragedy or complications. This, most definitely, is a story about second chances in both life and love.

 Sometimes I felt Sonny’s story was a bit overwrought, although her emotions seemed authentic. I have been thinking a great deal about mid-life crises as I have watched my children and step-children reach middle age and experience their own individual mid-life crises. Sonny, most definitely, is rethinking her life, and particularly the loss of her sister all those many years ago. And she rather begrudgingly has to begin anew, something many of us have had to do.

My favorite parts about reading a Viola Shipman novel are all the references to the coastal towns of Michigan. I had to chuckle while reading The Secret of Snow, because I know that Wade and his husband Gary spend their winters in Palm Springs and out of the cold and snow that he so eloquently describes in this cold, snowy novel.

This is the third Viola Shipman novel I have read. The others are The Summer Cottage, which takes place in Saugatuck, Michigan, and The Clover Girls, which takes place in Glen Arbor, Michigan. When I heard him speak last spring, I asked him when he was going to write a novel about Pentwater, Michigan, my favorite summer place. He said, “Soon.” Holding you to that promise, Wade! (By the way, the author picture includes some of my book friends when we went to his book reading at Cranes Pie Pantry in Fennville, Michigan.)

Wade Rouse’s website.

Three Girls from Bronzeville: A Uniquely American Memoir of Race, Fate, and Sisterhood

 By Dawn Turner

Simon & Schuster     2021

336 pages     Memoir

When the positive reviews began flowing in about Three Girls from Bronzeville, I found that I had received the book from the publisher. I looked on a Chicago city map and realized that I had connections to the Bronzeville neighborhood. That made the thought of reading this book all the more appealing. Then when I saw that the subtitle of the book indicated it was “a uniquely American memoir of race, fate, and sisterhood", I dug it up on my Kindle and became enmeshed in this remarkably-written story. I’ll let you know my connections to the book, but first the story line.

Dawn Turner grew up in the Bronzeville neighborhood of Chicago, one of the first settlements in Chicago for African-American peoples who had headed north during the Great Migration. Turner’s grandmother was one who came in the first wave of new Black residents. She reminded Turner frequently that “We took a bunch of scraps and stitched together a world.” When Dawn was growing up, her family settled in a safe apartment complex near the notorious Ida B. Wells apartments, but she, her sister Kim, and her best friend Debra were products of the first wave of the Civil Rights movement. They had relatively intact and extended families with secure incomes.

What Turner probes in her memoir is how these three children ended up with such disparate lives. She has had a remarkable career as a novelist, journalist, and columnist for the Chicago Tribune, and a contributor to NPR, while her sister Kim became an alcoholic and died of a heart attack at 23. Debra’s life became very problematic, and as Turner probes Debra’s story, the narrative becomes absolutely engrossing.

She writes: “As children we had moved freely around our world of low-slung public housing and gated high-rise developments. But right around adolescence we have to start making a choice. If we choose right, a promising future lies within our grasp. If we choose wrong, the path is unforgiving. The ground has already begun to harden around each of us, and soon it will be impossible to undo who we have become.”

The Kirkus reviewer suggests that the narrative may be too long, but I was completely absorbed. Turner probes the concepts of grace, redemption, and forgiveness, as well as ideas of fortitude, perseverance, and luck. She has woven together some of her Chicago Tribune columns and her NPR reporting, as well as stories told her by her life-long friend Debra. What particularly intrigued me was the detailed information about the Bronzeville neighborhood. Although we only lived in Chicago during 1966-1967 when I was in graduate school, my husband taught middle school in the Bronzeville neighborhood, and my oldest son and his family lived just south of the neighborhood in Hyde Park for many years. Every time I went to visit, I went past the Hyde Park Academy where Dawn, Debra, and Kim went to high school. Maxwell, my oldest grandson, went to the Chicago Arts high school, which at that time was located in an elementary school building near Ida B. Wells. As a ninth grader, he read Our America: Life and Death on the South Side of Chicago, which is about the neighborhood, and he recommended it to me.  I then read and reviewed it on my blog.  Both Our America and Three Girls from Bronzeville have been life-changers for me. They have broadened my world view greatly.

Dawn Turner tells her compelling story beautifully, and I look forward to reading more of her writings. I am going to recommend the book to my book group as well as my Chicago daughter-in-law’s book group. Here is a terrific article about her life and her work.

 

Interior Chinatown

 By Charles Yu

Pantheon     2020

288 pages      Literary 

I must say at the outset of this post that Interior Chinatown by Charles Yu is the best book I have read in 2021. And I am not alone in thinking that. Yu won the 2020 National Book Award for Fiction, so my vote for best book is in good company.

And with that, let me tell you a bit about the plot. As the book opens, Willis Wu is a first generation American living in Los Angeles’ Chinatown, where his parents settled after they left Taiwan. They have all taken roles in movies and television as “Generic Asian” man and woman, and right now they appear as part of the cast of a TV cop show called “Black and White,” which takes place in and around a Chinese restaurant called The Golden Palace. Family members as well as other bit players on the show live above the restaurant in single room occupancies (sro). Most of them have lived in these rooms for many years. Willis was raised there. He has worked his way up the bit player in the television show roster: from “background Oriental male” to “dead Asian man” to “generic Asian man number three/delivery guy.” What he really wants to be is the “Kung Fu Guy,” so when he becomes “Kung Fu Guy” toward the end of the book, it is a major plot surprise.

The novel is bitingly humorous while at the same time hauntingly potent. For example, the  recruiter for the show responds to Willis when he seeks an audition for a speaking part. The recruiter says, “No one really wants to hire you. It’s your accent.” Willis replies, “I don’t have an accent.” The recruiter: “Exactly. It’s weird.” So Willis learns to have an accent. The most poignant scene for me occurred when Willis’ father, “Old Asian man,” sings “Take me home, country roads” at the restaurant’s karaoke night, and there are tears in everyone’s eyes, because everyone wants to go home. There is an intense undercurrent of anger and sadness amidst the screenplay. The reader doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

As I was reading the book, I pondered the way in which we categorize the different varieties of immigrants we see in our community—the Asians running the restaurants, the Middle Easterners’ who run the convenience stores, the Indian owners of the motels, and on and on. As I watched television, I watched closely for “background Asians.” I saw many in the commercials that came on. Even during  a speech during the Virginia governor’s race, three people stood in the background of the Republican candidate: a white man, a woman, and an Asian man. “Background Asian man” for sure. The New York Times reviewer mentions: “Yu explores in devastating (and darkly hilarious) fashion Hollywood’s penchant for promoting clichés about Asians and Asian-Americans.”

I had little prior knowledge about Interior Chinatown before I began reading, so the format was a huge surprise and very confusing at first. Please be aware of the format as you begin reading. At book club last night, most of these veteran readers expressed some difficulty figuring out the format, the print size, and most of all, they had questions about the dialogue. Was the dialogue part of the tv show script or the characters speaking as themselves?

I would suggest that you take the challenge of reading this book. It will change some of the ways you view the world. 

Here is an incredible article about Charles Yu, the author, in the New York Times. It explains so much.

Dovetails in Tall Grass

By Samantha Specks

Spark Press     2021

310 pages     Historical Fiction

The Shortlist

This summer I was privileged to read several books about relationships between native peoples and white Americans in Minnesota. They included This Tender Land and Lightning Strike by William Kent Krueger and also Dovetails in Tall Grass, by Samantha Specks. One of the troubling things that I have learned is that I was never taught anything about the Dakota Wars or anything about the treatment of Native Americans as Minnesota was being established and settled.

I learned nothing about any of this in any history class I took as a young person. However, I was very aware of native reservations  that were prevalent in the Minnesota of my childhood. It seems ironic that I was so troubled when we all learned about the destruction of the “Black Wall Street” and the death of African Americans in 1918 Tulsa, Oklahoma, while I knew nothing about the thirty-eight Dakota men who were hung in 1862 in Mankato, Minnesota. ”To this day, this is the largest mass execution in United States history.” An article on Minnesota Public Radio discusses why the topic is not taught in Minnesota schools.

Specks does a remarkable job of telling the story of the Dakota Wars through the lens of two teenage girls, Emma Heard, the daughter of settlers in New Ulm, Minnesota, and Oenikika, the daughter of Chief Little Crow. I was particularly taken by Oenikika. She knew that she was born to be a healer. She notices the pull of the plants as she walks in the prairie: “My soul was listening as much as my ears. I was sensing it again—their pull. The plants of healing whispered through the rustling grasses.” Reminded me so much of Robin Kimmerer in Braiding Sweetgrass. Emma thinks that she is called to be a teacher. Both are remarkable young women and great witnesses to the conflict that emerges.

This is a beautifully-written witness to Minnesota during the Civil War, the Dakota Wars, as well as an eloquent observation of teenage girls of any generation.

 Here is the Kirkus review. Samantha Specks website.