Almanac of the Dead

Almanac of the Dead by Leslie Marmon Silko
1992
Weight: 1.4 lbs
Method of Disposal: Donating

Seeing this book still gives me the slightest twinge of shame in my gut.  I read it in college, along with many other Silko books.  We had a white male professor who was wonderful and always trying to break out of his academic box without actually leaving it.  He would encourage us not to do grad school right away if ever.  He wanted us to read books by people who were not "old white men like himself."  He had a great smile and a little twinkle in his eyes.  The books he recommended were almost always great, and his expectations for us were high.

I did not do as well as I wanted to in his classes, but I would say I was pretty average.  After reading so much Silko, we were actually able to meet her one day.  She gave a talk and signed books.  She seemed so full of anger up at that podium and then frustrated with where she was at when signing books.  I don't know if she was or if it was me or if it was all of us, but I had this overwhelming desire to "fix it" and, of course, could not.  I would imagine coming to a school of predominantly privileged white women to discuss Native American life past and present wasn't a dream come true.  We were probably so disappointing and that is putting it mildly.

I remember enjoying this book and writing a paper on it.  Potentially hyped up on something that would keep me awake for days.  I flip through it now and see a few quotes underlined:

"Only a woman fantasizes bullets striking a man's back at orgasm; a man's fantasy at orgasm was firing bullets into the wife's husband" (p 362).

"Yaquis also understood that a person might need a number of names in order to conduct all of his or her earthly business" (p 227).

"The white men on the street were genetically defective.  Mosca was certain of it" (p 211).

"Each time a Palestinian child was shot by Israeli soldiers, Hitler smiled" (p 212)

I guess you get the gist.  Sadness and anger.  Frustration and violence.

Sing Down the Moon

Sing Down the Moon 1992

Island of the Blue Dolphins 1987

Scott O’Dell

Weight: 7 oz

Method of Disposal: Recycling

These two O’Dell books were popular amongst my peers growing up.  I really do not remember how I felt about them as a child.  I had to re-read them last month because I could not remember what they were about, and I know a lot of the magic was lost.  I was not sure how to read it as an adult.  I was pleased and excited that the lead characters were both strong-willed and courageous girls.  It was a comforting juxtaposition to the likes of the Twilight series, where the lead girl is not independent or intelligent.  I was glad to think that children were being introduced to Native American (for lack of better words) experiences, but equally concerned that they were being written by a non-native writer.   The misinformation is spread early.  I am glad O’Dell wrote about people in a positive and affirming manner, but it is disappointing that I did not grow up reading any award winning Native American authors.  Kids should learn about The Trail of Tears and the destruction of life and land carried (being carried) out by white people.  It is important, despite their youth, so that they can begin to see the world as it is and imagine it as it hopefully will be when they help reshape it.

In the spirit of America, the O’Dell books were offered up in our public schools, while we were also being embedded with racism.  We sat in a circle singing “I’m an Indian Chief in my wigwam high, see my tom toms beat, hear my arrow fly.  I ride my pony every day.  I ride it fast and far away.  I-yi-yi-yi-yi, I yi-yi-yi-yi, How.”  I still remember it!  What is that?!  We learned it because we had a “real Indian” visiting our classroom!  I went to Braves games and held my tom tom proudly in the air.  I stomped all over Rock Eagle without thinking a thing about it.  There was one group, Native Americans, not many tribes and many people.  My mother had me read Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee, which was great, but I was getting mixed messages and not learning a whole lot.  Does this begin to, kind of, explain my discomfort when re-reading O’Dell’s books?  What was I willingly ingesting?

On a side note, I am not sure if children should or should not be allowed to write reviews about books online.  They are horrible, sometimes wonderful, and almost always amusing.  A lot of kids liked O’Dell, but the image above shows some of the comments from those who did not.  Enjoy!