Excavating the Past to Analyze the Present: The Savage Mind: an American Legacy by David Treuer

 The Savage Mind: An American Legacy 

by David Treuer

The Savage Mind book cover

Author and anthropologist David Treuer

Pete Hegseth, the embattled Secretary of Defense, recently announced a new spectacle for Americans. While his stewardship of the largest department in the government has been marked by firings, sharing classified information, leaks, and presentations that border on bizarre. Yet he made the announcement that convicted killer Nidal Malik Hasan, whose brutal murders of 13 people at Fort Hood in 2009 rocked the country, would be executed by firing squad. Hasan’s execution by firing squad will mark the first carried out by the military since 1945, but what is even more shocking is that Hegseth said he plans to broadcast the execution, making the death available to watch live for Americans. Hegseth, who purports to be a Christian and regularly invokes Jesus’s name in his speeches, has claimed that broadcasting the execution will act as a deterrent, despite no evidence that public executions or other forms of punishment deter people from committing crimes. As one of the most brutal attacks committed on an American military base, Hasan’s violence surely stands out, and its also possible that Hegseth’s purported religious beliefs call for the kind of old testament idea of an eye-for-an-eye type justice, not necessarily the same turn-the-other-cheek philosophy that Jesus and early Christians espoused. Rather, it’s a brutal and barbaric reminder of what David Treuer deems The Savage Mind, a mindset that “is American violence” that often used violence as a policy to remind others of America’s uniqueness, its power, and its strength. I couldn’t help but think about Treuer’s book when Hegseth made this awful announcement since the call to broadcast a live death follows on the heals of countless social media videos showing militarized henchmen chasing suspected immigrants, breaking windows, slamming people to the ground for an obvious reminder of America’s power. It follows on the taxpayer funded spectacle of the UFC fights at the White House, where opponents not only fought one another, but also dehumanized one of its former residents. David Treuer’s reflective and timely new book The Savage Mind: An American Legacy comes at an important time, when it seems like “the centre cannot hold; Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world…The ceremony of innocence is drowned;” In fact, Treuer quotes Yeats’ poem to remind us that this kind of violence and upheaval is part of a cycle, and in the words of Gil Scott Heron, it “ain’t no new thing.” Nevertheless, Treuer’s The Savage Mind is one of those books that I’m going to start recommending to all my friends and family. It’s an important and urgent book, and much like his earlier book The Heartbeat of Wounded Knee: Native America from 1890 to the Present invites readers to reconsider their conceptions of stereotypes and ideas from the past that persist in the present. However, unlike the hopeful and sanguine tone of The Heartbeat, where Treuer identified stories of resilience and survival across Indian reservations and tribal communities in America, The Savage Mind examines the frontier and the history of American violence that has contributed to making American what it is. As I was reading The Savage Mind, I couldn’t help but also think about Eddie Glaude Jr’s recent America, U.S.A. and how his tone towards the ideas have shifted from his earlier book Begin Again, which took a hopeful tone in reexamining racism and false myths. While violence, racism, intolerance, and political divisiveness continue to be at the forefront of the news, Treuer’s book reminds readers that this is part of the frontier mentality that has helped to push not only the physical boundaries of America’s geography but also extended the boundaries of what is acceptable to attain these advantages and privileges. Both books call for readers to reexamine the past, but to also consider how past myths, stereotypes, and belief systems have encouraged the present divisions and inequalities that continue to persist. The Savage Mind, like America, U.S.A., is also an important book to read to not only consider what is happening today, but how we can make changes that promote more healing and acceptance, to lessen our divisions and work towards promoting more equality.

While it’s not always an easy book to read, I love how Treuer frames the book as a kind of letter or dialogue with his children, interrogating his own complicated feelings as the son of an Ojibwe mother and a Jewish immigrant father and what America’s history of violence, slavery, stolen land, and bad faith treaties, among other disparate practices means to him. Like Ta-Nehisi Coates’s Between the World and Me, Treuer presents the history and his own ideas like a dialogue with his children, framing his experiences, family, and concerns not only as hopes and fears for his children, but also a part of the multitudes of American life.

I loved the way this book was written, with careful consideration for each line. I also learned that Treuer studied with Toni Morrison (he calls her Professor Morrison) while he was an undergrad at Princeton, and I can see that influence in each line, carefully wrought word choices with repetition, inversions, and the kind of mirrored syntax that creates a reflective and critical mood in readers. He also referenced one of Morrison’s greatest quotes that I was not aware of: “If you can only feel tall if someone else is on their knees, then you’ve got a serious problem.” This line resonated with me, especially in how so much of the current administration’s approach to governing requires that kind of submission.  I found myself going back over lines to think more about the history, events, and ideas that Treuer was excavating and analyzing. Although he’s trained as an anthropologist, as he recounted on his first day of class with Professor Morrison, she informed him that he wrote better than most anthropologists, which was good. Although Treuer examines history and current events throughout the book, the personal parts recounting his memories of working with Professor Morrison or learning how to fence while at Princeton were some of my favorite parts of the book. He even makes a reference to his kids as his “best thing,” which I found both heartwarming and brilliant in later learning about Morrison’s influence on his writing. Treuer connects these experiences, feeling like an outsider, possibly experiencing a kind of imposter syndrome, with his own desire to challenge the stereotypes of Indians. There’s also a great story about meeting Clifford Geertz, arguably the most significant figure in 20^th century anthropology, and not allowing Geertz to get a word in, challenging him about fencing. As these stories entertain, Treuer eventually brings readers back to the violence, and how its not just embedded in American culture or the frontier mindset, but possibly even a part of human nature. From examining Geertz’s analysis of deep play in Balinese cock fighting, where the roosters are extensions of the man, to Freud’s cynical later work Civilization and Its Discontents, Treuer provides evidence of the influence of the frontier on American and European conquests to expand land and property at any cost, even if it means denying the humanity of others.

I wasn’t sure exactly what to expect with this book, and I was amazed at how it straddles many different genres and styles- it’s part memoir, part historical analysis, part instructions to his children, and all heart, where Treuer helps readers understand the implications of The Savage Mind and the legacy of American colonialism, stolen land, broken treaties, starvation, paternalism, and the other forms of physical and symbolic violence on Indians, the enslaved, and others denied rights, opportunities, and equality. I was amazed at how deftly Treuer moves from the past to the present to personal connections, whether it was through his parents’ or grandparents, his brothers or cousins, and how these experiences all serve to represent elements of The Savage Mind and the frontier, the purportedly unknown land and space that allows for lawlessness, greed, and the rapacious development of the manifest destiny. As Treuer demonstrates throughout the book, this kind of cyclical violence is often condoned through the calls for progress and growth, and is often justified as part of the entitlement of this progress. The Savage Mind is a book that all Americans should read, and its an especially important book for students to read to confront many of the myths about American exceptionalism that often skirt the kind of systemic violence and displacement that have bloated our land. I was aware of many of the events, but Treuer’s analysis and revisiting these events throughout history, both American and world history, allows readers to reconsider the consequences of colonialism and imperialism and the calls for expansion and domination, especially from a cultural and human perspective that we often do not confront in textbooks. Whether it was learning about Columbus’s crimes against humanity or Andrew Jackson’s attempts to exterminate Indians in America (and how these laws and Jim Crow laws influenced the Nuremberg Laws in 1930s Germany), The Savage Mind offers much for readers to consider and reconsider. Although there is a lot to confront and wrestle with throughout the book, Treuer framing these historical atrocities challenging situations as a letter and dialogue with his children also brings readers into the conversation, making it feel more dialogic and inviting them to not only consider the perspectives and experiences of others, but also to empathize with them and our shared history of violence, even if we may not have experienced the violence in similar ways. Furthermore, Treuer ends the book with stories of hope and redemption, sharing how the Big Drum Ceremony originated for his Ojibwe tribe. Interestingly, it was brought to the Ojibwe by a Dakota Sioux woman who survived an attack by the US army and received a vision of the ceremony during her time hiding. Part of the vision instructed her to share the ceremony with the Ojibwe, who had fought with the Dakotas for years. Although the Dakotas shared the ceremony, it became an Ojibwe tradition where members who were touched by violence led the ceremony. Treuer explains it much better, but he spends time with two Ojibwe veterans who recount how the Big Drum Ceremony has helped them heal their trauma from war. It’s an incredible story of healing, and especially how community like the Ojibwe tribe can help to shoulder grief and sorrow so that individuals do not need to feel this heavy burden. Treuer once again weaves the past, the present, and the personal to offer insights into how we continue to feel the ramifications of the past, but this experience is much different from the incidents of violence that are continuously revisited on American people. Rather, it’s about healing, peace, community, and recognizing our shared humanity. It’s a beautiful ending to a complicated legacy of violence, stolen land, broken treaties, and mistreatment. And while Treuer doesn’t call for forgetting and moving forward, he does recognize the significance of community in helping to forge forward. The Savage Mind is an important and engaging read. Thank you to Little, Brown and Company and NetGalley for allowing me to preview and advanced copy of this amazing book. Highly recommended! 

Necessary Reading for Today: End Times Fascism by Naomi Klein and Astra Taylor

 End Times Fascism: And the Fight for the Living World by Naomi Klein and Astra Taylor

End Times Fascism book cover

Author and journalist Naomi Klein

Author and filmmaker Astra Taylor

In their new book End Times Fascism: And the Fight fort he Living World, Naomi Klein and Astra Taylor provide an important observation from Joyce Carol Oates about Elon Musk, where she questioned his lack of enjoyment or celebration on social media. Where other tech moguls like Mark Zuckerberg have proclaimed social media’s ability to bring us together, Oates observes how other social media platforms have devolved into a space for harboring grievances and complaints. It’s a fitting observation that Klein and Taylor lean into to raise questions about how these wealthy elites with seemingly more resources than some countries and many people can find so much of the world problematic that many of them seek to develop charter cities or autonomous zones of exclusivity or even isolated bunkers that will allow them to disengage and shield themselves from the rest of the world. End Times Fascism explores the hard shift in the tech industry from progressive ideas and thoughts towards fascism and dictatorships to how they have exploited millennialism and apocalyptic thinking and partnered with other fascistic political movements in America and around the world in order to demonstrate their need for exclusivity and shelter. After reading Gil Durán’s excellent new book The Nerd Reich, which also details the fascistic shift in Silicon Valley and its determination to accelerated the collapse of society to form their own autonomous enclaves and feudal systems, End Times Fascism provides a complementary if not a broader view in how 21^st century fascism and its links to technology and apocalyptic thinking are different from the 20^th century fascism that we’re often warned about and keep vigilant eyes in order to prevent its resurrection. These books are not only timely and relevant, but also necessary in helping to make meaning and understand the motivations of the individuals and groups who not only hold much of the world’s wealth but also are able to leverage that wealth to change the world, often to benefit themselves.

An important lesson Klein and Taylor explain at the beginning of their book is how this modern version of fascism differs from earlier iterations, examining its evolution as “humanity has entered an era of unprecedented, global-scale existential crises.” While in the past, we might trust our leaders in industries and governments to mount challenges to these crises, but today’s approach is much different and more self-serving. Furthermore, Klein and Taylor explore how this approach to accelerating the end and the apocalyptic thinking limits resources for others while allowing the world to burn. That is, with the end of the world fast approaching, there’s no need to help others out, but rather only to prepare for its imminent demise. This book not only highlights the apocalyptic thinking of Silicon Valley, but also their symbiosis with the conservative, right-wing political world to wrest more control and dominion over society.  

End Times Fascism is organized into 4 different sections that examine the history of fascism and millenarianism in the 20^th century and how it has led to an increasing belief in end times and the hypervigilance of these end times symbols. While it is still a little unsettling to see how many people are increasingly banking on the end of the world being near, Klein and Taylor’s book is also a reminder about how often this kind of thinking and belief system arises during manufactured crises and unprecedented events. In Chris Jennings’s End Times, he explores the Ruby Ridge standoff and tragedy, and how it arose from the millenarianism that permeated the Christian nationalism of the 70s and 80s, and how Hal Lindsey’s book The Late Great Planet Earth was among the best-selling books of the 1970s. Even though this kind of thinking isn’t novel, the apocalyptic thinking and hastening the end of the world remain a popular belief system for some groups of people. The second section details how Silicon Valley is working to hasten the end times and how AI and data centers in particular are proving to be part of the accelerant that is hastening the end for some communities. While there has rightly been considerable pushback against data centers in communities, it was shocking to read about Musk’s Colossus, a massive data center in Memphis. Named after a 1960s sci-fi movie computer, Klein and Taylor document Musk’s late-to-the game approach to AI, and how this facilitated his hasty and dangerous construction of basically a private powerplant to fuel his AI, which the authors also note has a reputation for generating racist and misogynistic content. As Duran’s book noted, many of the Silicon Valley’s companies are named after sci-fi and fantasy book characters, yet these CEOs and leaders often misread or omit the warnings and ironies in these characters, and it seems like Musk missed the irony of naming his vast AI data center after a murderous robot- man-made technology run amok and seeking to end humanity. It was shocking to learn about Musk’s secret deal with the Memphis city council that allowed him to unleash pollutants, toxic chemicals, and waste in neighborhoods that have often been the site of other economic and environmental injustices. Although there’s been more and more pushback regarding data centers recently, Klein and Taylor’s reporting helps to further emphasize the environmental and human toll that our use of AI has on communities and individuals. This book raises important awareness of these issues and frames the damage done to communities in a way that identifies its toll on individuals and families, making this an important read. It’s also one of the many travesties and atrocities that are perpetrated around the world in the name of technological progress and efficiency. While we may think our lives are improving, Klein and Taylor remind us of those voices and victims who are often stifled, maligned, or silenced by the powerful and affluent.

Although Klein and Taylor focus on the institutional, racial, economic, and political violence that has become more prominent with the rise of 21^st century fascism, their book also offers signs of hope through resistance. Although they report on Musk’s data center and the damage it has inflicted on the Boxtown neighborhood of Memphis, Klein and Taylor also highlight group and individuals like Keshaun Pearson who helped organize the Memphis Communist Against Pollution, which has collaborated with other organizations to fight the encroaching environmental pollution from these data centers. They also spend time discussing how communities and groups in Minneapolis supported neighbors and immigrants when DHS invaded its neighborhoods and murdered two citizens. For all the attempts to malign these victims and paint them as radical terrorists, Klein and Taylor highlight the kind of supportive communities and neighbors who put themselves as risk for the care and good of one another. It’s an important reminder of the connections that help to sustain us during these wild, violent times. It’s also an important reminder of the kinds of dichotomies and sides that are set up as our society continues to break apart due to polarization. We can choose the side of exclusivity, of rejection, of violence and condescension, or we can choose to be part of a broader collective, working to protect others against harm. While Klein and Taylor don’t necessarily frame their arguments in this way, they do end their book with a reminder of the doomsday clock, and how both the UN and Bulletin of Atomic Scientists raised concerns about the destructive powers of nuclear technology. Both organizations arose from the wreckage of World War II, seeking to prevent further wars and the use of destructive technology. While Klein and Taylor acknowledge the limitations of the UN and the frequent failures to recognize the destructive power of nuclear technology, they present important warnings and reminders of what lies ahead if we continue down this apocalyptic path while indiscriminately using technology without thinking. Klein and Taylor report on many of the interconnected fascist factions not only in the US but around the world, and although breadth of this coverage can feel daunting, it’s also important to recognize their coverage of the communities of resistance that have risen to challenge the encroachments on our rights. My thanks to Farrar, Straus, and Giroux and NetGalley for sharing an advanced copy of this book. Highly recommended!

Examining Linguicide and Revival in How to Kill a Language

 How to Kill a Language: Power, Resistance, and the Race to Save Our Words by Sophia Smith Galer

How to Kill a Language book cover

Author and journalist Sophia Smith Galer

Many thanks to Crown Publishing and NetGalley for the advanced copy of How to Kill a Language: Power, Resistance, and the Race to Save Our Words by Sophia Smith Galer. While the book’s title reference the precarious nature of many languages throughout the world, Smith Galer’s work focuses more on the efforts to save and reclaim these languages, and the many individuals and grassroots organizations working to recruit speakers, teach and raise awareness of these languages, and to promote the language in areas where it remains a minority to other dominant languages. A few years ago, I read a great book by Ross Perlin titled Language City: The Fight to Preserve Endangered Mother Tongues in New York. Perlin, who is a linguist from NY, chronicled his efforts to work with others to preserve the speakers and written language of many of the world’s most endangered languages in NYC. Sophia Smith Galer, who is a multi-lingual journalist, details a similar effort to explore and chronicle the efforts to save endangered languages, or those she deems as threatened with linguicide, which often results from the policies and efforts of a state toward a minority language. Although Perlin’s efforts explore the many reasons why NYC is home to and in some ways furthers the endangerment of these minority languages, Smith Galer takes readers on journeys throughout the world to learn more about the places, policies, and history that have all worked to silence many of these indigenous languages and dialects, which makes How to Kill a Language not only a fascinating study of the history and cultures of these languages and their speakers, but also something of a travel book that often details the geographic features and regions that also help to shape and sometimes isolate many of these languages, making them distinct from dominant languages like English, Arabic, French, or Spanish.

Smith Galer starts her exploration of these languages and regions close to home, which is London. It may seem odd to start a story about linguicide where English is the dominant language and where many of the colonial experiments to eradicate native languages in far-away and close to home colonies originated, but her personal connection to an endangered language starts with her grandmother, or her Nonna, who spoke dialët, a language she describes as an “angry French, with some strong nasal twangs and words that end abruptly, not like Italian with its ever-flowing vowel sounds.” Geographically and nationally, Nonna was from Italy but from a mountainous region that was isolated from the more dominant Florentine Italian that became the standard for spoken Italian in the 19^th century as Italy began to unify. The differences between dialët and Italian, as well as her Nonna’s age and decreasing health prompted her to question how many dialët speakers were left, and how she could work to preserve the language.

Smith Galer’s questions and interest in preserving dialët then prompted her to further study Italian, to learn how the various regions, which all have distinct pronunciations and some entirely distinct languages like dialët, eventually settled on the Florentine Tuscan dialect as the standard. This first chapter is a fascinating framework to explore how countries and populations with power can promote their chosen language or dialect as the standard, which can bring about unity in communication, commerce, and education, but it can also push language minorities to the fringes of society, especially when a sense of privilege, politics, or promotion is assigned to the dominant language. As Smith Galer’s observations with other languages demonstrate, frequently younger generations educated in the dominant language will be less likely to speak their native language and may even view the language with a sense of shame or embarrassment. These languages then either remain around smaller, isolated regions or are only spoken at home or in secret in some cases when there are consequences to speaking or writing in the language (like the chapters on Karuk and Kurdish explore). Each subsequent chapter explores how different policies, histories, events, and movement have impacted specific languages. I loved learning about the different cultures and languages throughout the book. Each chapter serves as a kind of case study for how countries and historical events influence the linguicide- the decline of these indigenous languages. However, the Smith Galer doesn’t necessarily dwell on the demise of these languages, but also chronicles individuals, groups, and organizations who are working to keep the language alive, whether it is through online community and advocacy, translations, subversion and resistance, or education and work with younger generations of speakers. There are so many incredible stories found throughout this book that complement the well-researched historical, political, and social elements that influenced how these languages were often relegated to lesser spaces in these nations. Furthermore, Smith Galer effectively describes linguistic elements of the language, making familiar references where possible or clearly defining the spoken, written, and communicative aspects of these languages for non-technical or linguistic oriented audiences. The chapters focus on Śhert, which I’m struggling to write accurately in word, an Arabian language spoken in regions in Oman; Ukrainian and its resistance to the Russianization of its language in Ukraine; Ladino, a fascinating Spanish derived language spoken by Sephardic Jews who were expelled from Spain after the Reconquista and ended up in Greece and Turkey, adapting the elements of these languages and some others; Karuk, an indigenous Californians from the Klamath area. While all of the stories featured upsetting stories of colonialism and conquest that led to the loss of language, Smith Galer details how many of the tribal Karuk were sent to notorious Indian schools in the 19^th and early 20^th centuries where speaking their native languages was often physically punished, creating a sense of fear and shame among the speakers that nearly wiped out the language and traditions of the Karuk people. Yet stories like the Karuk also feature dedicated community members like Julian Lang who helped to start a Master-Apprentice language program that created time, space, and lessons for older and younger speakers to meet in order to continue passing on the language to the next generations. It’s a fascinating look into the kind of grassroots efforts that are maintaining these languages for future generations, but as Smith Galer notes in her conclusion, the work of these dedicated individuals and groups may not be enough to sustain these languages without future policies and resources like government funding (the Karuk program receives funding through California). The book also explores Kurdish and the efforts of countries like Iran and Turkey to criminalize and punish Kurdish speakers. I also liked learning about Kichwa, an indigenous language from Ecuador as well as Peru. This was also a fascinating way to see how community members work to include language instruction and ensure future generations are speaking these indigenous languages, even recruiting pregnant mothers and encouraging them to speak to their unborn children. Interestingly, there’s a chapter on the kind of revival that Hebrew experienced with zionism, and how the demand for Hebrew only speaking in Israel has created further tension with speakers of other languages. It’s also a fascinating look at how a language that was deemed for religious purposes only became the lingua franca of a country. The last chapter was equally fascinating as it detailed Dagbani, a language from Ghana, a country that has nearly 80 distinct languages, but uses English as the official language. This chapter was also fascinating to learn more about how a country with so many different languages can often ignore these indigenous languages and fail to support them when their focus is on STEM studies or arts related to languages like French or English.  Smith Galer returns to dialët, and visits the region her Nonna was from to learn more about where and how this language that shares more qualities with French than Italian originated. This chapter offered some further insight into how regions and geography can lead to language development and variations, and how practices like education and policies can impact the further speaking of these languages.

How to Kill a Language is a fascinating and insightful book, where readers are able to learn not only about these different languages but how countries and governments can impose policies, education, and other measures that can bring about the demise of languages. Nevertheless, the book also offers hope in detailing the efforts of groups and individuals who are working to maintain and transmit these languages to future generations. If you enjoy learning about different cultures, languages, histories, or regions of the world, this book will be a great read. Recommended! 

Forging an Identity Through Literature and Art: Early Deane

 Early Deane: Essays on Irish Literature, Culture, and Politics by Seamus Deane; edited by Maurice Fitzpatrick

Early Deane book cover

Author, poet, and director Seamus Deane

Go raibh maith agat (an Irish Thank You) to Cambridge University Press and NetGalley for sharing an advanced copy of Early Deane: Essays on Irish Literature, Culture and Politics by Seamus Deane, edited by Maurice Fitzpatrick. This was an exciting collection to find and read. I was lucky enough to take a few Irish Literature classes in college and actually read Deane’s book Reading in the Dark. For whatever reason, I don’t remember reading any of his criticism. Nevertheless, this collection of his writings from the 1960s through the early 1980s is well organized thematically, focusing on topics and issues like Irish intellectuals and politics, Irish imagination, Irish drama, and important, but sometimes overlooked Irish writers who helped to forge the idea of an Irish nationality and identity. Although I was not familiar with all of the writers that Deane discusses throughout the book, I was familiar with a number of the authors, poets, plays, and novels, and many of the themes and ideas about Irish identity, politics, art, creativity, and the struggle against colonialism were themes and issues explored in the courses I took. This book is definitely an academic text, and not one for casual readers. Deane was not only a poet and writer, but a serious student of Irish history and literature, using his knowledge and learning, as well as his spirit and desire for a true Irish identity, to synthesize the great history of Irish art and literature, often to refute notions and stereotypes that sought to justify the colonization of Ireland.

Deane’s writing is informative and imaginative, as he looks backward to imagine a future Ireland that is not necessarily nostalgic, but rather awakening to understand the true legacy of its language and history that was nearly erased through colonization. Furthermore, Deane was from Northern Ireland, so his experience under British rule and the kind of discrimination and inequality he experienced only heightened his calls for a true Irish identity and nation. In fact, the idea of tension and conflict, not just violence, but a kind of dichotomy and opposition, are found throughout his essays, offering insight into what he sometimes refers to as the psychology of the Irish under British rule, where their history, language, and culture were systematically erased only to have English and British history imposed on them. As Deane notes throughout analyses of Irish writers like Yeats, Synge, Beckett, and O’Casey, that kind of experience creates a divided psyche and identity that is never completely assured of who it is, and may be best represented in the character of Owen in Translations, who needs a job, but ultimately ends up aiding in the destruction of his own culture, history, language, and community through his work with the British. Deane became close with Friel, becoming a director in his Field Day Theater Company in Derry, along with the actor Stephen Rea, who also wrote a wonderful introduction for this collection. The last few essays are actually introductions by Deane about Friel’s work, which plays an important part in helping to provide examples of both the conflicts and the artistry that Deane emphasizes are so integral to understanding the Irish. I also appreciated Deane’s writing about Yeats and other contemporaries like Lady Gregory who sought to excavate Irish mythology and folklore, not necessarily to romanticize the past, but rather to reinvigorate an Irish identity and imagine a new future for Ireland as it forged a new nation after the revolution. Deane’s analysis and evaluation of these important Irish artists and writers also acknowledged his call to the necessity of art, myth, and literature in shaping a unique national identity free from the cultural imperialism that colonialism imposes on its subjects. Also important throughout the early part of this collection is Deane’s call for an Irish intelligentsia, which he deems as what I would imagine Du Bois imagined as like the talented tenth, a group of highly educated and skilled writers, artists, and theorists who guide the culture towards a brighter future. As Deane notes, Irish offered little for its artists, writers, and thinkers to remain while England and continental Europe provided more opportunities and praise. Nevertheless, Deane may not have realized how he and his peers were able to contribute to this kind of Irish intelligentsia that helped to re-imagine Ireland through art, poetry, drama, and literature.    

Although this is a book about much more than Irish literature, it was a little surprising to not see a whole lot about James Joyce in this book. Many of the conflicts, oppositions and themes that Joyce addressed in his works, especially the paralysis and spiritual death that Ireland offered, appear throughout Deane’s criticism, noting how prevalent these ideas were in other writers’ works. Furthermore, Deane’s focus on the imposed history and the loss of authentic Irish history seems to echo Stephen Deadalus’s famous lines “History is a nightmare from which I am trying to awake.” However, with Deane’s writing, we see glimmers of hope and a sliver of morning sunlight slipping through the shades, offering readers and thinkers ideas about how Ireland was seeking its own identity throughout the periods of colonialism (and in some ways, it still is). Deane’s commitment to art and literature as a means of upliftment and cultural identity are important reminders as well. As I was reading this collection, I was struck by its relevance to current issues in the US but also reassured by the power of great art to challenge injustice, inequality, and violence. This is a great collection for those who are interested in Irish literature or for those who are teaching courses on Irish literature. I wish that I had a collection like this when I was in college because it would have provided me with some different insights into the Irish imagination and its role in forging an Irish identity. Highly recommended! 

Wide Sargasso Sea: Jean Rhys's Caribbean Gothic Postcolonial Novel

 Wide Sargasso Sea by Jean Rhys

Wide Sargasso Sea book cover

Author Jean Rhys

I can’t remember why exactly I bought this book, but I’m sure that part of the book was inspired by my vacation to Jamaica. I know, too, that I’ve come across the book previously, but as someone who never read Jane Eyre, it was not something that I studied or was familiar with in college. It may have been after I read Anna Biller’s excellent Bluebeard’s Castle, which pulls from both Bronte’s and Rhys’s narratives of the subjugation and gaslighting of women through marriage. Although I purchased this book before reading Tao Leigh Goffe’s excellent Dark Laboratories, her analysis of the book as a countertext to provide additional perspectives on the dominant views in canonical texts made me want to read Wide Sargasso Sea even more. It was also interesting to learn more about Rhys’ life and completion of the book over 20 years with Judith Raskin’s brief biography and background about the novel. Even though this is a brief novel, it was filled with ideas, allusions, and symbolism that kept me reading. I loved learning more about the history of Jamaica and Dominica, and how Rhys incorporated not only personal references, but the cultural and botanical references to the Caribbean throughout the book. At times, I felt that I could inhale the intoxicating floral aroma that emanates from the pages. This is the kind of book that I lost myself in reading as Rhys evokes a tropical paradise that also becomes a kind of prison for Antoinette Cosway, an heiress who lives in Jamaica shortly after the emancipation of those who were enslaved but is married off by her brother and is haunted by the fate of her mother who was institutionalized after the family was attacked and their estate burned.

The story takes place when Antoinette was younger on their plantation in Jamaica, shortly after emancipation. While the family was once wealthy, their estate has fallen into disrepair, which seems to be a common motif throughout the novel and creates a gothic feeling of decay and decadence. Antoinette’s mother is forced to remarry to improve the situation, but her new husband, Mr. Mason, is only looking to take advantage of the distressed property and woman. It’s not a marriage of love, but rather a power and land grab, which is another motif of the men in this story. Antoinette’s family is always viewed with suspicion among the emancipated people of Jamaica, and the threat of another plantation master returning results in their burning of the house, an attack on Antoinette, and the death of her younger brother, which eventually leads to extreme grief for Antoinette’s mother. Mr. Mason uses this episode of grief to have her institutionalized and sends Antoinette off to convent to study.

The second part of the story takes place during Antoinette’s honeymoon with her unnamed husband, but who is likely Rochester in Jane Eyre. This part of the book takes place in Dominica, where Antoinette’s mother is from, and is told from the unnamed husband’s perspective as well as Antoinette’s. This was my favorite part of the book, as it contrasts the beauty and idyls of the island with the subjugation and brutality that Antoinette experiences as the hands of her husband. Antoinette’s husband not only struggles to adapt to the way of life on the island, demonstrating his cultural incongruity, but Antoinette begins to develop doubts about her relationship to her husband, creating a sense of paranoia and fear that is only magnified by her family’s history of institutionalization. To further complicate the situation, there is a man who claims to be Antoinette’s half-brother, and he claims to be entitled to the property and money from the family. Throughout this section, we also learn more about the life of Christophine, Antoinette’s nurse from childhood, whose belief in Obeah, the traditional spiritual healing and magic system in Jamaica, arouses further suspicions between the couple. I loved the character of Christophine, as she seems to fight against the patriarchy and colonial mindset that Antoinette’s husband brings to the marriage and honeymoon. She also attempts to bring a sense of identity and independence to Antoinette, challenging her husband. It was fascinating to learn more about the Obeah practices and some of the ideas of zombis that were included in the texts and notes. Throughout this section, Rhys continues to develop this sense of decay and degradation that mirrors the relationship between Antoinette and her husband, especially as he begins to call her Bertha, changing her name and shifting her identity against her will.

The novel ends with the third and shortest part, where the couple journeys to England after the death of the husband’s father and brother and Antoinette renamed Bertha, thus further erasing her identity while imposing a new self on her. It’s a fascinating book that challenges the patriarchy and colonialism that were and continue to be a part of the history of the Caribbean, while also presenting countertexts that challenge the dominant view. By giving voice and life to “Bertha”, we not only learn about Rochester’s true nature, but we also learn more about the other women he’s silenced and taken advantage of throughout the years. Rhys’s Wide Sargasso Sea not only signifies on the classic Jane Eyre, but it highlights much of the racism, classism, sexism, and inequality that continue to exist today. Furthermore, it’s a haunting gothic tale that is both evocative and insightful. I also love this Norton Critical Edition, which has great notes and background information. I’m hoping to read some of the literary criticism about the text. Highly recommended! 

Paradise of the Damned by Keith Thomson

 Paradise of the Damned: The True Story of an Obsessive Quest for El Dorado by Keith Thomson

Paradise of the Damned book cover

Author Keith Thomson

Thank you to Netgalley and Little, Brown and Company for allowing me to read this advanced copy of Keith Thomson’s Paradise of the Damned: The True Story of an Obsessive Quest for El Dorado. Thomson’s book was a well-researched and detailed story of Sir Walter Raleigh’s lifelong quest to find El Dorado, starting from Elizabethan England and moving to Colombia, Venezuela, Guiana and the Orinoco River in South America. The book primarily follows Raleigh, tracing his early years spent in Elizabeth’s court and how he came to exploration and sailing. Thomson’s book features much adventure and many mishaps, especially around the war for the New World in the Americas between Spain and England. The book’s best parts are when Raleigh is in South America, looking for El Dorado while also navigating uncharted rivers, streams, waterfalls, and avoiding unknown predators like anacondas, alligators, and piranhas. It was fascinating to gain a deeper insight into how dangerous the new world was, mostly because of how unknown the terrain was. I also enjoyed learning more about Raleigh’s earlier approaches to diplomacy and finding ways to ensure that the Spanish would not beat him to El Dorado and how he sought out indigenous support from existing tribes. The other parts of the book that took place in England were not as exciting to me. I did not know much about Sir Walter Raleigh, so this book provided an engaging biography, but I was surprised to learn that in England at the time, the rule of law, especially things like evidence and due process were not really part of the society. Thus, reading about Raleigh’s years in prison for a kind of hearsay association with a plot to overthrow King James was important to know about. This also somewhat mirrored Raleigh’s earlier experiences with Queen Elizabeth when he was imprisoned for having a child with his future wife without informing the Queen. Thomson’s sharing of these events and the injustices that Raleigh faced helped to illustrate the kind of whims of the crown that many people, especially prominent people, faced. Although these parts dealing with the legal practices of England were important, I found them to be not as exciting as the chapters set in South America and dealing with the quest for El Dorado. It was also surprising that King James let Raleigh return to find El Dorado, despite being imprisoned for pretty much treason (even if the charges were never really tried). Raleigh’s second campaign, when he was in his 60s, did not go well. Like his initial quest to El Dorado, the hope was to bring money back to England in the form of gold. However, with a strong Spanish presence in the areas in Venezuela, Colombia, and Guiana he struggled to return to some of the areas he visited in 1590s (about 20 years prior). I won’t spoil the ending, but Raleigh does return to England without any gold, failing once again to find El Dorado and dealing with a hungry, tired, and mutinous crew. This leads Raleigh to face King James’s wrath and power. Most of this book was exciting, and I loved the images that Thomson selected to accompany these chapters. They really helped to illustrate the challenges and individuals involved in Raleigh’s various quests. While the book primarily focused on Raleigh’s quest, there were some other chapters that dealt with English and Spanish relations during this time, as well as Raleigh’s time spent imprisoned. These were necessary to understand some of Raleigh’s motivations for seeking out El Dorado once again, and the consequences of his failure to find it and bring home any gold. These sections were not as exciting but helped understand the broader perspective of this society. 

An Urgent and Important Book: Chain of Ideas by Ibram X. Kendi

 Chain of Ideas: The Origins of Our Authoritarian Age by Ibram X. Kendi

Chain of Ideas book cover

Scholar and Author Ibram X. Kendi

Many thanks to Random House, One World Publishers, and NetGalley for sharing an advanced copy of Ibram X. Kendi’s timely and urgent new book Chain of Ideas: The Origins of Our Authoritarian Age. Dr. Kendi, who currently chairs the Advanced Study Institute at Howard University, is one of the most prominent researchers, teachers, and activists in racism, and his work is not only is well-researched, but also is accessible for general audiences. Although Chain of Ideas is a necessary book for many people today, I’m afraid that those who would most benefit from learning more about the origins and effects of The Great Replacement Theory are not going to pick up this book. Unfortunately, I’m afraid that many will stamp Dr. Kendi’s research and ideas as racist or woke, positioning this book as something it is not. Politicians and cultural warriors have branded Dr. Kendi as a dangerous thinker, but I think his work is some of the most important out there today, not only because of his ability to clearly analyze racism through social and historical lenses, but also to propose thoughtful, considerate, and meaningful change in a way that clearly demonstrates Dr. Kendi’s skills as a teacher and public intellectual.

Chain of Ideas primarily interrogates the Great Replacement Theory, a misguided belief that policies and movements in the United States and around the world are anti-white, and looking for ways to benefit other races at the expense of white people. Dr. Kendi’s research traces how this idea has gained recent traction in the past 15-20 years in Europe and the US but is really a result of distancing and recycling of Nazi ideas, which were ultimately influenced by US segregation and Indian removal policies that largely relied on racial categories to benefit white citizens over others. Dr. Kendi provides 10 links in the chain that demonstrate how the Great Replacement theory operates and its impact on society as well as the violence it has wrought in Europe, America, and areas like Australia and New Zealand. Many of the mass shootings have cited Great Replacement ideas and fears, and when these happen, replacement politicians often offer distancing, but still manage to either redirect blame or fear monger about other issues whether it is immigration, gun rights, or privileges. Regardless, it’s important for the public to not only understand this theory, but also be able to recognize some of the dog whistles and calls to discrimination that politicians evoke to instill fear and stoke violence among their followers.

Each chain in the link is focused on many different examples across history and around the world. While I think many readers will be familiar with the American examples and especially the more recent American examples, it was shocking to learn more about what’s been happening in Europe and how politicians are using the fear of immigrants to manipulate Europeans into a zero-sum way of thinking, that immigrants’ gain comes at a citizens’ loss. In fact, I felt so frustrated and sad while reading this to see how many people are manipulated regularly with misinformation, a lack of clear understanding of history, and a willingness to readily accept false promises because of politicians’ clout or prior success. In a lot of ways, I kept thinking about Ta-Neihisi Coates’ “The First White President,” which argues that Trump used similar manipulative methods to stoke white resentment among social classes that other politicians had used. Rather than finding commonality in the exploitation of the working class or banding together to have more power, politicians will often use zero sum thinking in race and note that progress and opportunities come at a cost for white people, which is clearly not true. Furthermore, Dr. Kendi’s refutation of the kind of reverse racism that has sadly become a spectacle of the latest Trump administration reminded me of Keon West’s excellent book The Science of Racism, that demonstrates the true impact of racism and biases on access to things like jobs and opportunities, while also making a strong argument about the false nature of these ideas of reverse racism. Similarly, Dr. Kendi notes that this is just another method that has been used since the Nazi’s grabbed power in 1930s Germany to present their enemies as threats and disempower them to the point of expulsion and elimination. As Dr. Kendi notes, while WWII ended the Nazis, these ideas have gradually been sanitized and updated for our modern world. He rejects the idea of neo-Nazis since these are the same ideas, just rebranded. I hadn’t really thought about this since we continually mention neo-Nazis, but they really are the same ideas, or as Gil Scott Heron once said, it “ain’t no new thing.”  It’s just scary and disheartening to learn how this cycle continues, and how easily people are manipulated into believing these kinds of falsehoods and misrepresentations.

One of the most frightening elements of the book is how many of these ideas were reanimated by a novelist making observations in France in the late 90s. Rather than being guided by statistics and facts, Renaud Camus’s conspiratorial ideas spread throughout Europe and took hold in America as well, where change and difference were demonized and blamed for everything from inflation, to violence, to housing shortages, and unemployment, allowing others holding more responsibility to skirt blame and evade accountability. It’s also sad to see how powerful and generally intelligent people will misuse and manipulate others’ misfortune to gain advantages and power in society. While American politicians adopted the Southern Strategy of rebranding phrases like school choice and crime to manipulate voters’ fears, recent Trump advisors like the Steves (Bannon and Miller) have used more blatant fear mongering and racism to spread falsehoods and sow division in society. In fact, Miller made sure that others had copies of one of his favorite books, Camp of the Saints, a 1970s dystopian novel, akin to the Eruo-Turner Diaries, which presents immigration as the downfall of European society. We continue to hear these nagging criticisms in Trump and Vance’s admonition of Europe. However, as Dr. Kendi notes, whites are largely the dominant majority in European countries, hardly at risk of losing their status, their population advantage, and more importantly their social capital. It was just surprising to learn how much fiction can masquerade as fact and be so influential on policies and fears. Chain of Ideas is not only eye opening, but it is also a call to awareness and resistance. After reading Dr. Kendi’s dismantling of these bonds which chain people to racist and violent ideas, readers should feel more empowered to identify the falsehoods and propaganda, to require facts and confirmation rather than just accept the biases and falsehoods of conmen looking to stay out of jail. Furthermore, Dr. Kendi’s book is timely and necessary as America continues to slip in its autonomy. We are witnessing continued attempts to make voting more difficult, while an armed militia of untrained loyalists is now policing airports while Steven Bannon notes how ICE would be ideal to patrol polling places. Dr. Kendi’s comparisons with other countries that have slipped into autocracy should also serve as a warning to see how the transition from democracy to autonomy isn’t sudden and jarring, but rather a slow erosion that happens with dismantling the typical bulwarks and checks that balance out power (see Hungary, Turkey, El Salvador, and Russia).

While Chain of Ideas is not always an easy read, learning and change are not always easy. There’s a certain level of discomfort and challenge that comes with incorporating new and uncomfortable ideas into our existing schema, yet Dr. Kendi uses familiar references and examples to make his point, making the history and current threats all the more accessible. The only suggestions I have are to have more transitions between paragraphs to better develop the links and connections between different examples and countries. The book shifts from different examples, both historically and country-wise. I found that sometimes I needed to go back to better understand the connection, and I wondered if having more transitions to better emphasize the connections between ideas would have helped with the ideas. Additionally, I wish the book was more focused on solutions. The “Epilogue” does present some steps to take, and it notes how America is different from the other examples. Furthermore, Dr. Kendi also encourages readers to take action at the end of the book; however, the book at times does feel like it’s a downer, and I felt myself getting discouraged at times, which is also an important sign of its power. Maybe there will be some new editions or future works that focus on advocacy and action. However, Dr. Kendi does important work in teaching us about the history of this dangerous idea, and how it has been recycled and repositioned for modern audiences. Highly recommended!

Powerful and Relevant Essay Collection: Decolonizing Language and Other Revolutionary Ideas by Ngũgĩ wa Thiong'o

 Decolonizing Language and Other Revolutionary Ideas by Ngugi wa Thiong'o

Decolonizing Language and Other Revolutionary Ideas cover

Author, scholar, activist Ngũgĩ wa Thiong'o

Many thanks to The New Press and NetGalley for providing me with an advanced copy of Decolonizing Language and Other Revolutionary Ideas, Ngũgĩ wa Thiong'o’s last book before he passed. Although I was saddened to learn about the passing of Kenya’s most prominent thinkers, writers, and advocates, I was excited to find this collection of writings and essays available for review. I greatly appreciate The New Press allowing me to review the book in exchange for my honest opinion. I first encountered Ngũgĩ wa Thiong'o’s work in my undergraduate studies, reading A Grain of Wheat in an amazing World Literature course. A Grain of Wheat stood out as one of the most powerful and transformative books that I read. At the time, I hadn’t been completely familiar with Kenya’s fight for independence, but Ngũgĩ’s characters brought this struggle and its challenges to light in a meaningful and poetic way. Furthermore, my professor, Dr. Awuyah, made the readings so compelling and engaging, and A Grain of Wheat remains one of the most memorable from that course even years later.

I was also attracted to the title of this book as it focused on decolonization and language, two ideas that are incredibly appealing and interesting to me. The first part of the book, Decolonizing Language, focuses on that subject, providing examples and ideas of the power of the language and how colonization, and in particular language rules and imperialism seek to eradicate culture, beliefs and indigenous knowledge. Ngũgĩ provides examples throughout history of how countries sought to dominate and control through imposing a dominant language while limiting indigenous languages. It’s an important idea that is often neglected or forgotten, especially as more and more languages die every year. I was both surprised and excited to find that he used the example of Ireland as one of the first colonial linguistic experiments in Europe, and yet, he acknowledged that great Irish writers like Yeats and Joyce are often included in English literature Canons despite the attempted eradication of Gaelic, their native language. The idea of language and power is also represented in both writers’ work, as it is in other Irish authors like Brian Friel, whose play Translations, dealt with the kinds of issues Ngũgĩ wa Thiong'o brings up about language, memory, culture, and the power of naming. While there are many important ideas and themes that emerged from Ngũgĩ’s essays, I found two to be highly important. First, “Language conquest, unlike the military form, wherein the victor must subdue the whole population directly, is cheaper and more effective: the conqueror only has to invest in capturing the minds of the elite, who will then spread submission to the rest of the population.” While Ngũgĩ is referring to nation and culture, I think this idea is relevant and applicable to our current situation in the US, and in many ways further represents the kind of cultural and generational shifts that are occurring through different means of communication as we shift into accessing more information through social media and other digital formats. In many ways, it feels like there is a kind of linguistic battle occurring where forces are arguing about the nature of facts, representation, accessibility, and knowledge. I appreciated Ngũgĩ’s call to continually keep language and culture alive through reading, writing, and orality. The other idea that seemed highly important was pulled form historical examples in British colonies, especially in India, where English became “the language of education in order to form a class of ‘interpreters between us and the millions whom we govern, a class of persons Indian in blood and color, but English in tastes, in opinions, in morals and intellect.’” While Ngũgĩ’s examples represent the colonial use of education to create an educated class that still remained separate from the ruling class, with some privileges, yet never completely integrated, it’s also reminiscent of much of the ideological battles that are occurring now in education, and how the dominant culture currently in power is seeking to reshape American’s access to education with spurious claims of ideological capture and indoctrination. It almost seems like there is an invention of pseudoscientific terms to create fearmongering in order to shift ideologies. We see how language and education are used in these kinds of ways to dominate and eliminate ideas that are deemed threatening or counter the ruling class. Nevertheless, Ngũgĩ notes that “The colony of the mind prevents meaningful, nationally empowering innovations in education,” which seems to be the goal. Rather than innovate and encourage free and critical thinking, we are moving more towards this kind of colonial mentality where recitation and memorization are more important than independent thought and ideas. Actually, Ngũgĩ differentiates between education, which he notes as more like conditioning and knowledge, which he defines as an addictive element to an individual.

Another great essay in the book focused on the role of the University in a Global Community, and again, I felt like there was so much to take away and apply from this essay. It’s also interesting to see the university from Ngũgĩ’s perspective, as someone who helped shape disciplinary studies in African and American universities, calling for the shift away from “English” departments to “Literature” departments that sought to be more inclusive and diverse. As he notes “the university has a great role to play. Just as the university hosts different disciplines, which, while pursuing their particularity, should be in dialogue with one another, the university should be the modern patron of an intellectual discourse among languages and cultures. No university should be proud of monoculturalism or monolingualism. Building bridges between even apparently irreconcilable viewpoints is an important function of the university.” I loved this quote and this entire essay that focuses on the ways in which universities provided additive knowledge to students in order to further enhance their perspectives and viewpoints. Although Ngũgĩ’s experience, fighting for the inclusion of African, Asian, and other writers not often represented in the canon, is different, his words are a reminder of how powerful the role of the university remains in American life, and the ways that current policies are intending to shift towards this kind of monoculturalism and, as Chimanda Ngozi Adichie warns, the dangers of a single story. If anything, Ngũgĩ’s words and essay are an important reminder of how powerful and transformative the university can be both on an individual and a societal level.

The second half of the book, from chapters 7 through 20, focus on “Voices of Prophecy,” and discuss many of Ngũgĩ’s contemporaries and colleagues. I’m not sure whether the chapter on Achebe was meant to be funny, but Ngũgĩ discusses how after Things Fall Apart, every African writer became Achebe, where even he and his son were both mistaken for Achebe. It’s a funny story, but also somewhat troubling in that a scholar of African literature didn’t even know what Achebe’s age or appearance were like. Other essays detail his relationship to other well-known African writers, and their struggles writing in English or switching to their native languages. Ngũgĩ’s experiences as a political prisoner in Kenya are also a reminder of how powerful and subversive literature can be, and how the artist can also be a source of resistance and rebellion against politically powerful individuals. There is a lot to consider in these chapters as well, and I enjoyed learning more about Ngũgĩ wa Thiong'o’s career and collaborations with other writers, especially as he sought to diversify Literary studies and make them more inclusive.

This was an excellent collection, one that I will revisit and would consider using for the classroom. There are many great essays in here, and I as someone who studied African literature in college, I found these texts particularly relevant and meaningful. Furthermore, Ngũgĩ wa Thiong'o’s experience challenging the colonial mindset—seeking to decolonize not just nations, but also mentalities, is an important reminder about the role of language and knowledge in this kind of colonizer mindset. I was surprised and excited at how relevant and powerful these essays are in the current landscape. Highly recommended! 

Examining The Consequences of Imperialism

 The Wide Sea: Imperial Ambition, First Contact and the Fateful Final Voyage of Captain James Cook by Hampton Sides

The Wide Sea book cover

Thank you to NetGalley and Double Day Books for allowing me to preview Hampton Sides’s The Wide Wide Sea. I previously read Sides’s excellent book In the Kingdom of Ice, which I found to be an incredible adventure story. Not knowing much about arctic exploration, it was fascinating to learn about a world where certain regions were unknown and unexplored. The Wide Wide Sea follows a similar pattern in tracing the final journey of British explorer Captain Cook. I also did not know much about Cook, but having read David Grann’s The Wager recently as well, I was really interested in this period of naval exploration, especially as countries like Spain and England competed for the new land and sea routes. Sides opens the story discussing Cook and his legacy as an explorer (or negative discoverer) and how his views of indigenous groups were often more tolerant and inquisitive of other explorers of his time. I also appreciated Sides’s notes to begin about the changing views of Cook’s explorations and the idea of “discovery” and private property in many of the Polynesian lands that Cook explored. What was most important, though, was the nature of contact and how the limited narratives we have about sexual contact between the British and indigenous peoples they met. Sides indicates that our knowledge is primarily one-sided, but this was one of the more surprising elements of the book to learn how the men frequently spread disease through sexual contact, and how frequently Cook tried to stop this practice. Like In the Kingdom of Ice, Sides uses the journals and letters existing from the logs and diaries to give us insight into the different participants, and he does amazing work building relevant and engaging characters, as we learn about their motivations and thoughts about this journey. I also really appreciated that Sides brings in the indigenous beliefs and stories, especially when the men visit Hawaii, to learn more about the possible motivations for trade, contact, or even understanding how the indigenous people may have viewed Cook and his men.

One of the other fascinating parts of the book was the story of Mai or Omai, a young Polynesian man who was brought to England in the 1700s as almost a human pet. As horrible as that was, it was fascinating to learn about his experiences adapting to English culture, and how this cross-cultural experience affected him on his return to Polynesia/Ra’itea. I really enjoyed reading about his return to the islands and the challenges he had re-integrating into their society. Furthermore, his family was killed by people from Bora Bora, so much of his return was focused on revenge on the people who murdered his family and stole his land. It was really interesting, but also somewhat sad. It sounded like Cook really cared about Mai and that others also took more than a passing interest in him and his well being; yet, those who were educating him in England seemed to have different intentions. Nevertheless, Mai’s story plays an important part in the first 1/3-1/2 of the book. The other part of the book deals more with Cook’s arrival in Hawaii for the first time, travels to Alaska, attempts to  

However, it was Sides’s ability to use the letters and journals of the participants to develop their characters and understand their motivations. In much the same way, Sides uses the logs and existing literature on the journey of Captain Cook’s travels to the Alaskan coast, attempts to navigate towards the arctic circle, and his return to Hawaii. I loved reading about these descriptions of the landscapes untouched by development and the traditions and beliefs of the indigenous people that Cook’s ships encountered. As Sides notes, Cook was not always tolerant and accepting of these other cultures, but more often than not, he was willing to learn more about them to understand their motivations, and most likely access their resources like water and timber for their ship. This was another thrilling adventure with some sad consequences. Nevertheless, it was interesting to learn about all of the areas that Cook explored that were previously unknown to European explorers. Highly recommended book. 

Healing the Past With Culture: Medicine River by Mary Annette Pember

 Medicine River: A Story of Survival and the Legacy of Indian Boarding Schools  

by Mary Annette Pember

Medicine River book cover

Author Mary Annette Pember

Many thanks to Pantheon Books and NetGalley for allowing me to review an advanced copy of Mary Annette Pember’s powerful book Medicine River: A Story of Survival and the Legacy of Indian Boarding Schools. I am glad that more researchers, historians and journalists like Pember have started to excavate the hidden history of abuses and coercion that have occurred at Indian Boarding Schools during the 19th and 20th centuries. A few months ago, I read Eve Ewing’s incredible book Original Sins: The (Mis)education of Black and Native Children and the Construction of Americanism which challenges the notion of education as a means to social and economic mobility, and rather than viewing education as an equalizing force in society, Ewing recasts the ways that education was used to control and eradicate culture, operating under the assumptions of a cultural superiority that is still persistent today. It’s a powerful lesson and book that challenged my own ideas and hopes about education, yet also presented some ways that education can continue to grow and adapt to better teach Black and Native students. Medicine River focuses more specifically on Indian boarding schools, which were prominent throughout the 19th and even the 20th century, and explores their economic, social, and psychological legacy and the generations trauma that continues to haunt many Native families long after their ancestors attended these schools. Using her own mother’s experience in the Sister School in Wisconsin. Recalling discussions and stories from her Mother, Bernice, Pember begins to weave the story of these boarding schools with history, policy, and the tragedies that often were a continued part of these schools. While I initially thought this book would be mostly a focus on the history and legacies of the schools, Pember uses her mother’s experience, along with other subjects in the book, to examine the generational pain and emotional destruction that these schools have wrought on Native communities across the United States and Canada. She not only explores her mother’s story, but also interweaves her own experiences with school, exploring how her mother’s pain and abuse connected to Pember’s own eventual disconnection with school and her decision to run away from home in the 1970s. Pember’s story is one of redemption, and explores how she overcame these initial challenges to earn a college degree and a successful career in journalism, while also eventually becoming sober. The latter third of the book delves more into how traditional therapies and recovery efforts may not necessarily be culturally relevant to Native groups, who experience some of the highest rates of poverty and addiction in America. She presents the story of a Yup’ik community in Alaska that uses more traditional methods and encourages a sustenance lifestyle that their ancestors practiced to help members overcome addition and challenging mental health problems. Pember also revisits the painful last years of her mother’s life, while also continuing to weave together new revelations from her grandparents’ lives that she never realized due to her mother’s trauma. Medicine River is almost like 3 books in one—sharing some of the best qualities of memoir, historical analysis, and culturally relevant mental health practices. Although the book is challenging and features instances of violence, abuse, and the deaths of Native children, it’s an important reminder to recognize the kind of settler mentality and cultural supremacy that devised these schools and recognized them as a powerful state tool to not only eradicate Indigenous cultures across North America, but also as a means to weaken familial ties and gain land and access to minerals and resources like timber. 

While I enjoyed the entirety of this book, I felt like Pember’s strongest points were when she was writing about the boarding schools and the history and policies that eventually brought them about. Like Ewing’s book, Pember delves into the policies that brought about these schools, and how politicians used them as a means of control and coercion, and to avoid the physical genocide by bringing about a cultural genocide, often repeating the phrase on which these schools operated “Kill the Indian, save the man.” Pember begins by researching the archives for these schools which are held at Marquette University. She shares how there is some hesitancy to allow her full access, and her initial experience with the archives did not really provide that much illuminating evidence. However, her later research explores many of the horrors that children and their families experienced, from forcing the children into these schools with threats and legal action to the forced assimilation towards White Christianity. In what is some of the most harrowing research presented, Pember explores how illnesses which were typically deadly in the 19th and early 20th century, like measles, tuberculosis, and the flu, were often passed to Native children, who were then sent home to further spread these illnesses within their communities. Pember documents various cases of young children, infected with disease, and often returning home to die. In other cases, she explores how families were often notified after burial of their children’s passing. It’s heartbreaking and shocking to learn that while these schools were supposed to provide care and education for Native children, they were often sites of cultural and physical violence, sometimes even resulting in death. Pember, through her own family’s experiences, details the long-lasting effects of this kind of abuse and pain, and how families often pass down the emotional pain from generation to generation. I learned so much from these chapters, and Pember’s detailed research and fact-finding helped to add even more depth and significance to the research presented in Ewing’s book. 

Pember then transitions into her own story, which is both fascinating and tragic, yet ultimately redemptive and hopeful. It was interesting to learn about her mother’s experiences once she left the Sisters School, but then how Pember first met her grandfather, who plays an important role in the later story, once Pember learns more about how her mother eventually ended up in the Sisters School. Pember shares her own experiences in school, and the kind of racism and discrimination she faced in schools, leading her to eventually leave and run away. This part of the book was surprising, not only for Pember’s adventures as a runaway, but also as to the candor and bravery for telling her story. I wasn’t expecting this part of the book, and it was fascinating to learn more about her background and experiences. I think this aspect of her story also shows the kind of generational trauma or how the unresolved pain and anguish can be passed along from mother to daughter. It’s an important message about acknowledging the pain and hurt once experiences to move beyond it and ensure that we don’t subject our children to the same kind of pain and hurt we experienced as children. Pember’s story is also hopeful since she explores how she eventually returned from juvenile incarceration to attend University of Wisconsin and earn a degree in journalism. Although she doesn’t get too into the details of her alcoholism, she discusses her initial career as a journalist, and how it kind of enabled her drinking further. However, in returning to the idea of generational trauma, Pember experiences waking up from a drunken night on a bathroom with her daughter staring at her. This was her moment of clarity, when she recognized that she didn’t want to inflict the same pain and hurt that she experienced on her daughter. It’s a powerful lesson to learn, and sadly one that Pember’s mother, Bernice, continued to struggle with throughout her life. 

The latter part of the book deals more with overcoming this kind of trauma and the acknowledgement of the destruction and damage done by these boarding schools. The focus isn’t completely on the schools themselves, but rather many of the health and mental health challenges that Native communities face in America and Canada today. One of the most powerful sections focuses on Pember’s journey to Alaska to meet with a Yup’ik community that is burying a young man who was murdered by his niece, over an argument that no one is really sure how it began. This was also an important part of the book since Pember explains how often the traditional therapeutic practices for dealing with mental health issues aren’t always relevant and don’t always work for Indigenous peoples. I found this idea to be similar to educational researchers like Gloria Ladson Billings and Lisa Delpit who argue that in order for learning to be meaningful for groups of students, it needs to relevant and aligned with their own cultural values and experiences. Similarly, Pember’s revelation about the inefficacy of these practices also reminded me of Alisha McCullough’s book Reclaiming the Black Body: Nourishing the Home Within, where she explores how Western and White concepts of body image and nutrition are often ineffective and sometimes unhealthy for people of color. It’s an important reminder about how the kind of ethnocentricity continues to permeate and cause problems by failing to acknowledge cultural differences and preferences. Furthermore, I think Pember’s analysis and exploration of culturally relevant practices is an important reminder of the how necessary it is to acknowledge and include diversity in our education, practices, and considerations. The continued war against diversity can have devasting and lethal consequences for those communities that continue to face challenges and hardships, while also facing a denial of their practices, values, and beliefs. Another chapter follows the revelations about the abuse and deaths in Canadian boarding schools, and how despite acknowledgement and pledges from the government, many of the First Nations People are still waiting for reparations. I also found it interesting how Canadian politicians and even the Pope acknowledged, but also hedged their responsibilities and roles in the abuse, often blaming things like the doctrine of discovery or a colonial mentality that people were following at the time. Pember presents Canada’s actions as both a kind of blueprint for what to do and what not to do. She also outlines how Deb Haaland, the former Secretary of the Interior, helped to lead an investigation into the abuses in American Indian Boarding Schools. While I’m not hopeful that much will come of these investigations now with a change in the regime that seems to care nothing about history or Indigenous peoples, it’s still important to see what kinds of action have been taking place and how this may lead to change or further investigations in the future. Furthermore, Pember’s book will also serve as an important document that explores not just the events themselves, but the continued legacy and challenges that many descendants of boarding school survivors face. The last chapter also details Bernice’s later years and death, and how Pember was able to eventually learn more about her mother’s life and how she ended up at the Sister’s school. It was different from her mother’s memory, and this chapter served as an interesting way to recognize how the pain and trauma can often cloud our perception of the past, causing us to re-evaluate who was at fault and who we may look to for protection. Although the book was filled with pain and tragedy, Pember does end on a hopeful note, acknowledging her own experience as one of hope and resilience, but also acknowledging that there is still more work and healing to be done. I loved how she used her experience of the jingle dress, a traditional Ojibwe practice for healing, to emphasize the importance of culture to healing and moving on. This is a great book with a powerful message and exploration of both personal experience and its connection to larger events in American history.