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Book Review: The Round House by Louise Erdrich

The Round House by Louise Erdrich (Harper; 336 pages; $26.99).

Louise Erdrich’s new novel The Round House is quite a departure from her previous novels.  Typically, Erdrich writes from multiple perspectives, with each narrative contributing a little window into a larger world.  She switches gears with The Round House, winner of a 2012 National Book Award in fiction.  Joe Coutts, her primary narrator and an Ojibwe Indian, recalls a horrific crime that occurred when he was thirteen.  A cacophony of voices is unnecessary in The Round House; Joe drives Erdrich’s story, and his voice speaks volumes.

Like Erdrich’s previous works, The Round House is set on a North Dakota Indian reservation.  Erdrich is part Chippewa, and problems facing Native American communities mean a great deal to her, as they should to us all.  In The Round House, she once again tackles difficult subjects, such as violence against women, crime, and, most glaringly, the injustice of the law.  Unlike her other books, The Round House features an unforgettable young boy on the cusp of adulthood, who transfixes us with his strong, intimate narrative.

Erdrich sets her story in the spring of 1988.  Joe’s mother, Geraldine, is badly beaten and raped.  To the consternation of Joe and his father, Bazil, a judge, Geraldine is reluctant to tell what happened or even where the crime occurred.  Father and son are further dismayed when Geraldine retreats from them and spends her days in bed, eating little and saying nothing.  Suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder, she is a shell of her former self.

Bazil begins investigating the rape and enlists Joe’s aid.  The boy is more than eager to help his father find the culprit.  Bazil knows that he shouldn’t put so much pressure on a boy of 13; he knows he has told Joe too much.  It is too late, however.  Joe is already fixated.

“I wanna get him,” Joe tells his friends Cappy, Angus, and Zack.  Joe wants to avenge his mother and watch the culprit burn.  His love for her is so bright and fierce that he seeks to kill his mother’s rapist.  “Mom, listen,” he tells her.  “I’m going to find him and I’m going to burn him.  I’m going to kill him for you.”

You’d think Joe would not have to make this promise.  You’d think the police would investigate, find the accused, and prosecute him.  It’s not that simple on an Indian reservation, where jurisdiction is key.

Geradline was raped in the round house, a sacred space to the Ojibwe Indians, where they practiced religious ceremonies.  And there lies the conundrum.  An Indian did not commit the crime; a white man is to blame, a man who loathes Indians.  A crime was committed, but “on what land?  Was it tribal land?  Fee land?  White property?  State?  We can’t prosecute if we don’t know which laws apply.”

It seems the rapist violated Geraldine in this sacred space deliberately.  He knew what he was doing and where he was doing it.  In all likelihood, he will not be charged with anything.

Joe cannot let that happen and will use any means necessary to get his revenge.  He will enlist his friends; he will sift through his father’s old case files; he will seek advice from his grandfather; he will garner information from the twin sister of the accused.  If the law is unjust, then Joe will seek his own vigilante justice.

The Round House is part coming-of-age story and part crime novel.  Erdrich uses humor and pop culture to show how Joe and his friends are obsessed with Star Wars, Star Trek, and girls.  The boys are so close that they would do anything for each other.  Their closeness reflects the tight-knit community they call home, where everybody knows everybody and where everyone looks out for everyone else.  Whatever happens, they will insulate the boys from reprisal.  In a sense, when Geraldine is raped and beaten, the whole town is violated.

Since Joe looks back on these events from an adult viewpoint, he is able to view the crime from two perspectives simultaneously: child and adult.  Joe puts an adult spin on things whenever he can, yet Erdrich manages to capture how the crime shattered his innocence and stole his childhood.  The offense against Geraldine turns Joe into a man.  The crime affected Joe so much that he went on to study law; eventually, Joe becomes a lawyer.  He can tell the story then from a son’s eye, yet with a lawyer’s keen focus.

The Round House illustrates how a senseless crime can forever change a town, a community, a family, and a young man.  Lives are overturned, and relationships are altered.  Yet a boy discovers the power of friendship and understands the meaning of giving one’s word.  That same youth becomes a man in this tale and finds his life’s calling– to seek justice even in the unlikeliest of places.  Erdrich instinctively knows when it takes a chorus to tell a story and when only one voice is needed.


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Book Review: The Woman at the Light by Joanna Brady

The Woman at the Light by Joanna Brady (St. Martin’s Griffin; 352 pages; $14.99)


            Lighthouses have always fascinated me.  Each has its own unique beauty and history, and all were designed to steer mariners from cliffs, shoals, reefs, and shorelines in fog and at night.  Nowadays, lighthouses do not have keepers, as they once did, because the lights are automated.  But that was not always the case.  Tending lights was a difficult job.  Anyone who has ever climbed the steps of a lighthouse knows this.  Just imagine climbing those steps four or five times a day!

My fascination with lighthouses compelled me to read Joanna Brady’s novel The Woman at the Light.  I had very mixed feelings about this book.  It is not well written, but I was prepared to overlook this fact.  The main character vacillated between action and inaction, yet she was the novel’s most interesting and central figure.  At times, the writing was awkward and I did find an anachronism.  Yet, Brady delivers an early history of Key West, Florida, that I found absorbing and captivating.  Furthermore, she peoples the story with real women who were in charge of keeping the lights.  Brady wrote The Woman at the Light because of them.

Emily Lowry is Brady’s main character.  The story is actually a flashback as the elderly Emily looks back on her life.  Although she discusses her early life in New Orleans, she concentrates on the 1830s and 1840s after she married Martin. Martin lives in Key West, and he takes Emily there to live.  Eventually, he becomes a lighthouse keeper at a fictional light on Wreckers’ Cay.  Their life, though far from idyllic, fulfills Emily, and she busies herself with raising three children and aiding her husband in his duties.  One day, though, Martin does not come home.  He is lost at sea.

Denial sets in for Emily.  She will not let herself accept that her husband is dead, especially when a body never washes up on shore.  Emily is faced with not only raising three children alone but with also tending the light alone.  This is no easy task.

Then, an escaped slave turns up on the island.  Emily initially worries for her children’s and for her own well-being.  However, Andrew soon wins her over by helping out with the light.  Emily is grateful.  Soon, Emily and Andrew engage in a romantic relationship.

Interestingly, Andrew introduces Emily to cannabis.  Such a thing is plausible.  Although the cannabis plant is not native to Africa, Arabs introduced the weed to Africans and its use spread quickly.  African slaves brought their knowledge of the drug to the Americas.  In fact, in sixteenth century Brazil, Angolan slaves were allowed to plant cannabis between rows of sugarcane and smoke it between harvests.

Brady uses the cannabis to break down barriers between Emily and Andrew.  At first, she only yields to him under the influence of the weed.  The drug lowers her inhibitions.  I could not help but wonder if the two would have ever gotten together without the cannabis.  Emily’s family owns slaves.  Emily herself makes a note of how light-skinned Andrew is, leading me to wonder what would have transpired if he had been darker.  Theirs was a relationship I needed more convincing to believe.

After Andrew’s arrival, Emily’s reputation as a lighthouse keeper explodes.  She is lauded with praise.  But Emily is not really tending to the light; Andrew does all the work.

In 1835, a hurricane hits Key West and the fictional Wreckers’ Cay.  Brady’s hurricane actually did happen and it changes everything for Emily and Andrew.  A new, unwelcome chapter in Emily’s life unfolds.  Later, she marries a wealthy Cuban, who is himself a slave owner.  Seňor Salas is older but enjoys making love to his young, beautiful wife.  Brady uses an anachronism here.  Emily uses the word “sex.”  But it was not until 1929 that “sex” was first used to describe sexual intercourse in the writings of D.H. Lawrence.  I can forgive many things, but an author and editor should get their facts straight.

Emily is truly a woman of great interest in the story.  Her fortunes rise and fall.  She is at times a creature of inaction.  Instead of doing what needs to be done herself she depends too often on others who only lie to her and steer her in the wrong direction.  Other times, though, Emily is cold and calculating.  For example, she only marries the wealthy Cuban man for his money, and her decision was wise.  Brady creates many layers for Emily’s character, yet I found her unlikable.  She is a woman who defies convention, and I feel she will appeal to many readers based on that fact alone.  Emily does not have anything in common with her contemporaries.  She is unlike many women, including her sister Dorothy, who was another character I disliked.

When Brady is on, she is on fire.  She is at her strongest when she portrays real events and real people.  “Wrecking,” a common practice of taking valuables from a shipwreck which foundered close to the shore, features prominently in the story.  This was actually an important economic activity in the Florida Keys, with hundreds of men involved at any given time.  She also shows how frightened people were of Indians.  Fear of Indian attacks on lighthouses was very real.  In Key Biscayne at the Cape Florida Light, keeper William Cooley lost his wife and children during a Seminole Indian raid in 1836.  The incident happened after the outbreak of the Second Seminole War.  Cooley left the lighthouse.  His replacement, John Thompson, and his assistant were attacked by Seminoles on July 23, 1836.  The Indians set fire to the base of the lighthouse.  The fire spread, and the Seminoles also set fire to the keeper’s dwelling.  They left in Thompson’s sloop because they thought an explosion killed Thompson, but he survived (Guide to Florida Lighthouses, p. 49-51).  Brady plays on this fear in her story when she has a group of Indians raiding Wreckers’ Cay.  The actions of one of the Indians, however, really irked me, but Brady explained it in the end.

Brady also accurately depicts a devastating hurricane that struck Key West and surrounding areas in 1846.  The storm took out the Sand Key Reef Light and killed keeper Joshua Appleby, his daughter, and grandson. Keeper Barbara Mabrity and her children took refuge in the Key West lighthouse. She survived, but her children and others who took refuge there, perished.

For me, the real female lighthouse keepers that Brady portrays made this book worth reading.  Their work was grueling.  They were also mothers who had to raise their children while still tending to the light.  They got little pay for the work they did and had to put up with ridicule and sexism.  Brady was as captivated by their stories as was I.  In fact, Barbara Mabrity, Rebecca Flaherty, and “Mary Carol and Mary Bethel, who came later, courageously tended lighthouses for many years in the Florida Keys and inspired” Brady to write her novel.

If you are interested in reading about these women, I recommend Women Who Kept the Lights: An Illustrated History of Female Lighthouse Keepers by Mary Louise Clifford and J. Candace Clifford.  If you ever have the opportunity to visit and even climb a lighthouse, I urge you to do so.  It is an experience you will not soon forget.  Only then will you truly understand the triumphs and tragedies of female keepers.  Although I did not like Emily, the world of lighthouses and their keepers encouraged me to read this book.

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