LaRose by Louise Erdrich

Louise Erdrich, for me, has been an acquired taste. When I was younger I don't believe that I fully appreciated, or even understood, her deep desire to acquaint non-native Americans with the nuances of the native culture into which she was born. And certainly, not until "Round House," http://bit.ly/1qD3Xbl did I absorb the passion that Erdrich feels for her Ojibwe ancestors and for the difficult balancing act that they and other native peoples perform as they try to live in two worlds.

 

 

In her new novel, "LaRose," released a couple of weeks ago, Erdrich returns to North Dakota where another tragedy decimates a family, pointing to the vast differences between tribal justice and state laws. In the book's shocking opening scene, tribal member Landreaux Iron aims steadily at a deer on the edge of the property line that separates his land from that of his wife's half-sister, Nola and her husband, Peter. But as the deer flees, a small body crumples to the ground. Landreaux has killed a little boy, his son Larose's best friend, Dusty.

 

Though eventually cleared of legal wrong doing by the police, Landreaux's burden of guilt invades his entire being, affecting his relationships in town and in his family, especially with his wife Emmaline. Seeking the spiritual solace of his ancestors, Landreaux approaches Emmaline asking the impossible. They must give their beautiful boy, LaRose, to Peter and Nola, for them to raise as their own child. This is the tribal way.

 

It may seem outrageous to readers and yet, in her research, Erdrich found that this was in fact a means of atonement in other cultures too. What is so unforgivable is that the boy, LaRose, is not really told why his family is basically giving him away. Yet, when he moves in with Nola and Peter, he intuits that he is there for an important reason, and with a knowledge way beyond his years, he accepts his situation and vows to be all that Nola needs to help her through her grief.

 

Grief is at the heart of this novel, depicted so beautifully, that all-encompassing inability to find joy in life or in the love and support of family. Nola is debilitated to the point where her older daughter Maggie, also devastated at the loss of her brother, joins forces with LaRose in a pact to watch over and care for their mother, to keep her from the ultimate act of a woman without hope.

 

And what, you might ask, of Emmaline? What can she be thinking, seeing her own last born child being raised by another woman, running into her son in the store, feverish with desire to hold and squeeze him to her breast, yet unable? What hatred and resentment does she nurture as she lies next to her husband at night, unable to feel anything after the loss of her boy?

 

And what of the fathers? Peter? Is he less of a man because he cannot bring himself to kill Landreaux in an act of vengeance? Might it have been easier on everyone if Landreaux had been found guilty of a crime? Perhaps he was drunk? After all, he was an alcoholic at one time.

 

This novel is agonizing to read and yet Ms. Erdrich injects just enough backstory, dollops of humor, and, as is her style, a native myth tracing the LaRose name back through generations, attached to both male and female characters gifted in the healing arts. In this way she miraculously weaves a thread that will eventually stitch these two families into a semblance of one. It's a tale of power, redemption, reconciliation, and love, feelings sorely needed in today's world. A magical read.

 

First Impressions of the National Book Festival

If anything good came out of the eight-year Bush administration it was librarian Laura's decision to create the National Book Festival! What a glorious celebration of reading and literacy. Watching so many families, of every make and model, thrilling at the chance to meet writers and buy books lifts the heart of this librarian every time. Of course, I'm most proud of the festival that I actually had a hand in - patting my own back now - my own library system's Southwest Florida Reading Festival. www.readfest.org

Needless to say, having all the resources of Washington, DC, and the Library of Congress goes a long way to insuring attendance by the finest writers in the land. This year was no exception. The move from the national mall to the Walter Washington Convention center, which saddened me for just a moment or two, has proved to be inspired. Huge ballrooms accommodate the crowds and video will soon be posted on www.loc.gov/bookfest



I had planned my day carefully, fully expecting the women whose writing inspires me, Lousie Erdrich and Marilynne Robinson, to be the pinnacle of the event. Instead, it was the men who shined. Perhaps it was the format, which we've used at our own festival at some authors' request, but it seemed stilted. Many authors do not want the pressure of giving a half hour address and prefer the Q and A, interview approach.



The interviewers in this case were experienced, thoughtful, and prepared, yet the writers seemed to hold back emotionally. Marie Arana, former editor of the "Washington Post Book World," interviewed Erdrich who received this year's award for the body of her work. Erdrich's genealogical background includes Ojibwe Indian and that native culture informs much of her work. Her latest novel (2012), "The Round House," was a stunning piece of literature which I reviewed here: http://bit.ly/1qD3Xbl

Though Arana had to drag it out of her, Erdrich did speak a little bit about some of the wonderful secondary characters who emerged from this novel, also getting her to admit that there is another book about these interesting, complex people forthcoming. Whew! I couldn't help but think that Erdrich hadn't had enough coffee yet.

Robinson on the other hand, was just plain stingy. Ron Charles, who I often mention as one of the finest reviewers working today, also at the "Washington Post," tried valiantly to elicit some kind of emotion from the Pulitzer Prize winner, to the consternation of the audience. He asked several open-ended questions that she shut down with single word answers and at one point, when Charles posited a particularly probing query, Robinson actually said,

"That's a good question."

To which he replied, "Good, because I'm dying up here."

The audience roared in sympathy.

Now I understand that writing is a solitary endeavor. I'm sure that many writers find the required book tours daunting. As introverts, they likely feel uncomfortable touting their books like carnival barkers. I get that. If you read any of Ms. Robinson's incredible works you'll gather that she's hardly an extrovert. Even her writing is quiet. I reviewed her most recent book "Lila," here: http://bit.ly/1QkuA0h

But, if one accepts a speaking engagement, then I believe that person has an obligation to the hundreds of fans who get up early, drive 45 minutes to the metro, spend another half hour on the train, to be inspiring, to be engaging, to be present. And that, unfortunately, was just not the case Saturday.

Tomorrow, though, I'll tell you about the men who knocked my socks off: Phil Klay, Marlon James, Bryan Stephenson, and Viet Than Nguyen, kudos to you!