LaRose, Louise Erdrich, Harper, 2016, 372 pp
I have been reading Louise Erdrich for over a decade. She
has been writing novels for over three decades. She never lets me down. The new
novel, set in familiar territory, the remaining Ojibwe lands of North Dakota,
is engaged in spanning: generations, cultures, the spiritual world, and the
moral universe. If that sounds deep, it is but her dazzling prose and
sophisticated plotting create a novel that is quite impossible to put down.
LaRose is a young boy, descended from at least five
generations of Native American women, all of whom were named LaRose and
employed courage as well as Ojibwe skills and spiritual practice in the face of
violence and oppression. Throughout the course of the novel this heritage
reveals and builds the character of a remarkable being, LaRose, who spans every
gulf between the troubles in his family.
One morning, Landreaux Iron is out hunting and accidentally
shoots his young nephew Dusty. Emmaline Iron is half-sister to Dusty’s mother
Nola; Dusty’s father Peter is Landreaux’s best friend. Tragedy, loss, and near
insanity invade the lives of these two families. The tribal police and county
coroner rule the death an accident but Landreaux’s guilt sends him to the sweat
lodge with Emmaline to work out what amends will satisfy the spirits. They
decide to give their five-year-old son LaRose to Peter and Nola as atonement
for and replacement of their lost son Dusty.
As Erdrich continues to spin this desperate tale, the past
comes rushing in to complicate the already delicate relations between Emmaline
and Nola, between Landreaux and his mortal enemy, the substance abusing Romeo,
between Native American and White culture. In a situation as tangled as a
Gordian Knot, she never lets the reader become lost but builds suspense and
dread. You feel the emotions of each character while you become immersed in the
history of what the American settlers and government have wrought on the
natives of the country we conquered. In the end, you are left marveling at the
intricacies of the whole sorry situation.
Often in her novels, Louise Erdrich posits that a child will
leap across all these chasms and bring about a healing resolution. LaRose is
that child here. From the bewilderment caused by having to leave his own loving
parents and siblings to live with a woman deranged by grief and a young female
cousin raging against her bitter mother, he grows into a wise and funny and
brave young dude. Eventually, Emmaline wants LaRose back, so he begins to live
in alternate weeks with each family. His increasing love for the new family and
a deep loyalty to his birth family bring about an untangling of the many knots
of distrust, betrayal, and loss of identity from which the adults suffer.
Basically, the kids save the day.
Louise Erdrich writes stories no one else is telling these
days. Her books are a study in the ways a conquered people endure living within
a different civilization. Although that adjustment has been the problem of
millions of people throughout history, the plight of the Native American is not
often considered in 21st century America. She can conjure up healing
and resolution as a realistic option without falling prey to sentimentalism.
She can imagine people who have the humanity to build a hopeful future without
festering in past bitterness, even as she reveals the disintegration of self,
caused by culture clash. She is a LaRose herself.
Note: This review was originally published at Litbreak Magazine.
(LaRose is available in hardcover by order from Once Upon A Time Bookstore.)
Ach! You beat me again! I'm about a third of the way through LaRose and agree completely with your review so far. Wonderful book. Wonderful writer.
ReplyDeleteWell you beat me big time on The Story of the Lost Child. I have not even started it yet. I kind of envy you that you are discovering LaRose for the first time. One of my top favorites so far this year!
DeleteBeautiful review, Judy!
ReplyDeleteThank you Carmen!
DeleteBoggling to give a child away as atonement, wow. I can see where that would be tricky in the long run. Interesting.
ReplyDeleteI know. But it has been at different times a common practice. My own mother was given away to her aunt at age three in 1922 because her own mother had a difficult delivery of her third child and the aunt had lost a child from illness. They lived in the same small town and Mom went home on weekends.
DeleteAnother great novel. How to choose a book? Since I caught up on all my reading on your latest reviews, I am dazzled by them... I didn't know most of these authors :-(
ReplyDeleteAh the dangers of reading blogs:-) Your list of books to read grows longer than the life ahead of you. But isn't it fun thinking about reading them?
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