Off the Reservation by Stephen Graham Jones
I don’t often recommend reading the acknowledgements first,
but in the case of Stephen Graham Jones’s ambitious and wildly imaginative
follow up to The Only Good Indians it might provide some context in understanding
this surreal road-trip and possession horror novel that not only confronts many
of the myths and stereotypes surrounding Indians, but he also offers insights
and the inspirations that influenced this sequel to The Only Good Indians.
Beyond textual evidence, Graham Jones also offers insight into his writing
process, which informs this multi-layered novel that inhabits the perspectives
of several complex characters who shift and evolve throughout the course of the
novel and road trip. As Graham Jones notes “Put me in a group, at a dinner, a reception,
and I usually hunch my shoulders and hide, stay quiet, always snaking looks at
the door. Put me at the keyboard, though, and I come alive.” He discusses how part
of the novel was written in an Applebee’s while he was on the road, and another
chapter was written in the back of a car, where he risked motion sickness to
put his vision on paper (or computer). He also thanks (sarcastically) a passenger
who sat in front of him during a flight who pushed the seat back and nearly
caused an ocular migraine while Graham Jones was continuing to work on this
novel. It’s a fascinating look at the writing process for one of the most
inventive and distinct voices in horror today, and it helped me better
understand some of the events and significance of the characters and the action
throughout the novel. Plus, he also offers sine background about the chapter “He
Stood Dying”, which is pretty much a chapter about Nate going to the bathroom. It’s
a fascinating chapter that left me wondering more about why so much of the
chapter was dedicated to this process; it serves an important function later on
in the story, which I don’t want to spoil, and the acknowledgement also reveals
some of the motivation behind this focus. So depending on whether a reader
wants to try to navigate this complex, surreal story on their own to attempt to
make meaning, or whether they would prefer to hear from the author about
motivations and meaning, it might help. I found myself both engaged and
perplexed by Graham Jones’s unique style that features both truly gross and
graphic horror as well as long, complex, stream-of-consciousness sentences that
extend for several lines and capture details of the surrounding environment,
the characters’ thoughts and feelings, and sometimes the author’s own interjections.
One example from the pee chapter starts “He was a stoic Indian, though, didn’t
even show it, excerpt maybe in how fast his fingertips kept galloping over the
laminated table of the Sundancer’s abbreviated booth of a dining table,
Mooch laying down solitaire cards across from him, his overfilled blader a
stretched-tight drum skin picking up every single one of those thunderous
impacts of varnished paper meeting laminated tabletop.” I found myself
re-reading sections to better grasp what was happening, and I was constantly
reminded of Toni Morrison’s famous retort to Oprah about the need to re-read “That,
my dear, is called reading.” Off the Reservation has something for
everyone, whether it is graphic and gross body horror, symbolic metaphors to
counter the stereotypes and racism that Indians experience and to challenge the
myths of America’s westward expansion, and the distinct voice of literary
horror’s most inventive stylist. However, this is probably not a book for
everyone, but it is a rewarding book if readers are willing to re-read and work
to make meaning of the depth of Graham Jones’s surreal and metaphorical vision.
Off the Reservation is much different from The Only Good Indians even though it features some of the same characters. Where
The Only Good Indians also featured multiple characters, whose stories
were told in different sections, Off the Reservation also features
multiple distinct characters whose stories intersect as they are all taking
part on a road trip mission in an old Sundancer Camper RV to travel from
Montana to Carlisle, Pa., site of the notorious Carlisle Indian School, whose founder,
Richard Henry Pratt, explained the mission of the school to “Kill the Indian,
save the man”, and as it’s been found out, the school often took this motto
literally with over 200 marked and unmarked graves found around the school
grounds. The Only Good Indians felt a lot like It to me as there
were several friends who experienced a kind of trauma when they were younger
that eventually came to haunt them. Off the Reservation feels like
something else entirely. At first, I thought that with the road trip in the RV,
there where hints of Doctor Sleep’s True Knot, but a kind of inverse to
Crow Daddy, since these Indians were all attempting to repatriate the bones of
a boy who died at the Carlisle Indian School, not take the lifeforce from
younger kids. However, Off the Reservation also reminded me of Sherman Alexie’s
excellent short story “This Is What It Means to Say Phoenix, Arizona” where the
trip becomes more than just travelling, but it functions as a way to reconnect
with indigenous culture and heritage while also confronting stereotypes and
racism. Maybe I’m just looking too much into these similarities since these
were not books that Graham Jones mentioned in the acknowledgement section, but
I loved the way the road trip played out. Beyond these literary connections, Off the Reservation’s horror is what really sets it apart from other books. I
also loved The Buffalo Hunter Hunter, and that book also included some
graphic details, but it was framed as a kind of vampire novel, whereas Off
the Reservation features a demonic spirit that ends up possessing members
of the trip and causing extreme instances of body horror. Other characters,
notably Christiana/Christian, experience their own violence and body horror,
with a brutal attack at a rest stop that leaves them without a tongue, which is
eventually replaced by a synthetic tongue that is attached by magnets, which
Christiana/Christian keeps in a hollowed-out bible to help with finding their
voice. This might be my favorite character in the book, and they are definitely
one of the more symbolic characters, who loses their voice to a kind of settler
violence, and struggles to communicate throughout the rest of the book.
Although one could argue that it’s the other characters and us who struggle to
understand them, and that Christiana/Christian have developed their own
language despite the efforts of others to try to silence them or replace their
voice with a synthetic facsimile kept in a Christian box. There’s many of these
kinds of symbolic incidents throughout the novel, whether it is characters
questioning the cleanliness of blankets and refusing to use them or even the
voice of Russell Means showing up to talk through the body of Nurse Seine (I
also loved Graham Jones’s aside “It was the same clipped-but-controlled
delivery from the 1989 Senate hearings that he always showed class, to try to
foment what might need fomenting. Eighteen minutes of prepared remarks:
restrained but angry, persuasive but demanding, eloquent but in that
reservation accent, AIMing (my emphasis) for the bullseye and hitting it
line after line- a hero if there ever was one.”). Although Nurse Seine has her
own motivations for bringing Nate out to the Carlisle Indian School, I felt bad
for everything that she experiences throughout the novel. She’s repeatedly
punished through the possession, and it reminded me a lot of the Evil Dead
movies where there is horror, gore, but also a bit of surreal slapstick and
over-the-top body horror. Graham Jones definitely puts her through the wringer
throughout this book.
Although I’ve written a good amount about this book, I haven’t
even really addressed the plot of the book, and it’s a little challenging since
this book starts out with Nate and his friend Sebby looking to burglarize a kind
of lake vacation home, only to end up in a car accident. Prior to the accident,
Nate sees what he thinks are tiny deer that may have been recording the
burglary, which he later witnesses on a videotape of the film War Party, which
apparently is a real film that takes place on the Blackfeet Indian Reservation.
I also loved how this locally made film ends up playing a kind of surreal role
where Nate struggles to understand the truth of history and the fictions of the
myths that many believe. The film plays on a loop throughout their road trip,
and Nate witnesses changes in the film, whether it’s Sebby’s sudden appearance
in the film or seeing the moments before the accident that heavily damaged Nate’s
skull and sent Sebby into a coma. While recuperating in the hospital, Nate’s
nurse, Nurse Seine, ends up helping him with his recovery, and eventually
encouraging him to join the road trip to Carlisle and eventually join the
Dakota pipeline protests on their way back to Montana (I think). The story shifts
from Nate and Sebby’s antics to start the novel, to Nate’s difficult recovery,
and eventually the long journey out to Carlisle, and while the group of Indians
in the Sundancer RV cover many miles in their journey, most of the action takes
place within the RV, with some occasional rest stops and when they eventually
reach their destination of Carlisle. I can’t really give more details about
this incredible book without really spoiling too much of it; however, the story
shifts to a possession story, which apparently Graham Jones was learning the
rules of with his grad seminar on possession stories (which I would have loved
to take- this sounds like an amazing course; hopefully he at least releases the
syllabus). I’m still trying to make sense of the book and many of the wild
events that took place after they reach Carlisle, but if readers appreciate
unique stories that take common tropes and reinvent them, then they will most
likely appreciate this inventive and original book. It is a challenging read,
mostly because of Graham Jones’s unique style, with his long, complex sentences
and stream-of-consciousness narration of multiple characters who are in the RV.
It’s a rewarding read for those who want to venture Off the Reservation
and challenge themselves, but it may not be for everyone. Much like he did with
The Buffalo Hunter Hunter, Graham Jones experiments with form and style,
taking horror staples like the vampire or demons who look for a human host to
create a unique and original story that reinvents monsters and challenges
stereotypes and historical myths. Graham Jones has created a wild road trip
that I didn’t want to end, but I really enjoyed the ride. Highly recommended! Many
thanks to Saga Press and NetGalley for sharing an advanced copy of this amazing
book!
No comments:
Post a Comment