No wonder you were so smitten with David Grann’s Killers of the Flower Moon. This is the kind of story I imagine filled the pages of those vintage Adventure magazines: unexpected fortunes, devastating losses, deceit and betrayal.
All written with dialogue and description that makes it seem like a novel rather than investigative journalism (but with pages of endnotes and a long bibliography and a photograph inserted every few pages).
Admittedly, I enjoyed the parts about the Osage more than the parts about the lawmen, even though they inhabited the tragedy of it all. Very quickly, I lost track of the injustices.
The most significant must have been that initial loss of homeland, the elders forced to sign that treaty so that they would not be declared enemies of the American government. And, then, to have been forced onto such inhospitable land in the reservation system (in now-Kansas) that they were forced to buy other land for their people simply to survive (in now-Oklahoma).
Well, that’s an old story, I suppose. With the new twist being those massive oil deposits in the “new” land. With over $400 million from the leases and royalties in 1923 alone? Sheesh: stunning!
It’s little wonder that they became targets, with the media reporting such ridiculous stories of how the tribal members were mismanaging their wealth, combined with the pre-existing hatred of indigenous groups.
And given the more systemic methods of extermination – the residential schools, the land grabs – it’s obvious that a couple dozen murders wouldn’t have upset anybody in an official capacity… but it’s still shocking.
(But, then, the right-wing outrage up here, over the use of the term ‘genocide’ in the discussions related to the Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women report released in June, suggests nothing much has changed.)
You recommended the Grann volume later in 2017, so I reached back further for another title you recommended much earlier in our correspondence to read next: David Guterson’s Snow Falling on Cedars.
That was one of those on-everybody’s-lips titles that I probably did intend to read, but, then, it became so ubiquitous (a movie, even!) that I naturally drifted away. I remember we chatted about one of his later books (The Other, maybe? which sounds like another relevant read for our times) but I don’t think either of us read any others of his.
What I wouldn’t do right now for some “furious, wind-shipped flakes” against the windows though or the “gently implacability” of it falling in the distance. The other night it was twenty-six degrees overnight, whereas that would make a perfectly respectable daytime temperature, wouldn’t it. (What a relief that climate change isn’t for reals. *coughs*)
Cedars starts with atmosphere and description, but you know I have a soft spot for courtroom stories, so I’m not worried about the slow build. And I have just begun that Ann Cleeves series you suggested, the one they’ve made into Vera, so I do have a more gripping story at hand, for those reading spells which demand more action. Although The Crow Trap is all about setting and feel at this point too (except for that matter of the suicide-that’s-not-as-straightforward-as-it-seems). It’s mostly ground-cover plants and birds just now!
When I write next, I’ll have gotten further with the latest Barbara Kingsolver too. You were intending to get to that one, but I don’t know if you got there before everything took such a bloody awful turn for you. So far, it seems like a cross between the astute observations of The Bean Trees and the setting-soaked Animal, Vegetable, Miracle. You would have liked it.
XO
My friend, Barbara – librarian and booklover – died shortly after Christmas. We met via a listserv dedicated to Canadian literature, a serious venture that inspired us to take our enthusiasm offline, where we exchanged proper letters – mostly about books and cats – for about 19 years. In my mind, our bookish conversation is ongoing. (Letter One of Four is here.)
I read Snow Falling on Cedars years ago, and although I don’t remember the details of it, I remember loving it. I never did see the movie, though.
I was just thinking the same as Rebecca – your letter makes me wonder about the books I’ll never get to… which ones they’ll be.(Hopefully not for a long time yet!)
Did you hear that the movie wasn’t very good, or did you just never get around to it? I was waiting until I’d read the book, but that’s true of so many books whose films I’ve not yet gotten to either.
Once your TBR gets to a certain unmanageable point, it’s all about trying to make the best choices you can, knowing you will miss some, right?
I can’t even remember why I didn’t watch it, but it came out in 1999, a year after we got married, and my husband doesn’t like to watch anything sad, so that’s probably the reason. Now I want to watch it!
So many dramas have a tragedy at the heart of, or around the margins of, the movie. There have been long periods in my life where I avoided those stories too. And I think a lot of the books that Barbara recommended had that aspect to them, too, and I may have been more likely to follow up with the less-tragic stories. This movie is in the library, but I have a couple of things to watch before I will request it!
The loss of Barbara must have made you think soberly about all the books that have been put off to some undetermined future date … and all the books that may never get read. And yet you have a light touch in these lovely letters.
I’ve long meant to read Snow Falling on Cedars and finally picked up a charity shop copy recently, so it will be on the docket for this winter’s seasonal reading. I can see why it would be appealing to read during a heatwave, however! We’re getting some hot weather in this week; it will be nothing compared to what we had in Italy, or what you’ve been going through, but may make for some sticky nights.
Someone suggested we do a Kingsolver novel as an upcoming selection for our book club. I’ve already read Unsheltered and moderated an online book club discussion for it — which was the most polarized I’ve ever seen! — so I’m not sure if we’ll do that one or a reread of an earlier one like The Poisonwood Bible. (I’d prefer that as I haven’t read it in 16 years.) Last week I also snapped up a copy of Pigs in Heaven from the free bookshop where I volunteer. It’s one of just a few of her books I’ve never read, so I might use the “pigs” title as an excuse to substitute it into my 20 Books of Summer challenge, even if in the end it has nothing to do with animals.
I’m trying to keep the tone of the letters just as any other letter I’d’ve written to her and in that sense, I’d say it’s true, that “so many books, so little time” is a regular refrain for readers and we were no exception. And there is some guilt attached to the idea that there were some books she’d recommended years and years ago which I’d never gotten around to, but I did aim for most of them.
The hissing of the radiators in the courtroom has begun to have the opposite effect. So, now I feel rather like I am reading it in considerable warmth. I recommend a winter reading!
Ah, so you could re-read The Bean Trees for your legume-reading summer, then? I’ve reread Poisonwood and thought it just as outstanding. I think all of her books have the potential to polarize, but that’s what I admire about her: she’s willing to challenge core ideas/beliefs and turn them inside-out and upside-down so that you’re forced to reorient yourself and ask hard questions along the way.
Yipes, reading about radiators is the last thing I’d want right now! I’ve plumped for Penelope Lively’s Heat Wave this week as my season-appropriate reading.
I did give some thought to doing a foodie theme for next summer, but looked around my shelves and couldn’t find enough, not even by a very generous definition of the theme. I think I’ll just keep it open next year: 20 books from my shelves, whatever catches my eye.
That’s a great choice! I’ve been really craving some Penelope Lively lately. Maybe I’ll plan a mini-binge for later this year. Heat Wave isn’t one I’ve taken note of, but I think it’s a perfect selection for your summer weather, hot-but-not-TOO-hot.
That seems about right, given your feeling/inclination about/toward cooking! 🙂 Maybe if you were to gradually collect some novels about food and chefs and cooking, you’d find yourself increasingly interested in making meals and spending time in the kitchen? (Ie. You should buy/collect more books and call it stoking-a-passion-for-cooking.)
The worst of our heat wave has passed, whew. But I’m very much enjoying the Lively novel anyway. It’s reminiscent of Tessa Hadley’s recent work.
Ironically, I love reading about cooking, even though I don’t cook. I have a fair few foodie books in a box in America, but just a handful of chef memoirs, etc. over here — I think I’d only have 8 or so food-themed titles towards a challenge.
I’d like to have a Tessa Hadley binge: I haven’t read anything since London Train, which I loved.
That’s funny: I can’t think of a corollary in my experience. Although there are definitely topics about which I’m curious but certainly not passionate and I find another writer’s passion for almost any subject to be rather contagious. Except for, say, fox-hunting or other things which are, to my way of thinking, cruel but, to someone else’s way of thinking, sport. (Yes, I was recently rereading a childhood favourite with some surprisingly bloody fox-hunting!)
Another really lovely letter. I remember reading Snow Falling on Cedars around the time of the hype. I can’t remember anything about it now except the descriptive atmosphere you mention. I have enjoyed all the Kingsolver books I have read. Yer, I still haven’t read the last 3, and have had 2 of those tbr for ages.
Thanks, Ali. So far, Cedars is as much about the radiators blasting heat into the courtroom as it is about the snow — and oh, so many fishermen to keep straight in my mind. I’m enjoying it, but I’m a little puzzled at this point as to why it was SO amazingly popular…
Another beautiful letter! I don’t know if you follow FictionFan, but she reviewed The Killers of the Flower Moon a few months ago-what a fascinating (and terrible) story! Very unknown too, I had no idea that stuff went on.
I’m actually flying to Ontario soon to visit family, so I’ve been following your weather-how dreadful that heat seems! Hopefully you get a reprieve soon.
So now you’ll have a much better chance of remembering the title/author/story, a second mention to lodge it in your busy reader’s brain! With his reputation as a compelling stylist, I can see why anyone who’s enjoyed his earlier work would simply pick up whatever he writes next: so engaging.
A brief reprieve but with escalating temperatures for the coming weekend once again. Hopefully it’s not too bad for you when you’re travelling. If you’re heading to Toronto, and have time for some bookstores, let me know! 🙂
A bittersweet enjoyment of the Kingsolver, then, but you’ve piqued my interest with mention of The Bean Trees. I’ve fallen out of love with her writing over the last few years. Looking forward to seeing what you think of it.
For a time, she was a “hard cover” writer for me, someone to buy as soon as possible. But since The Lacuna I’ve been a little lazy about following up. (No slight intended against that book in particular: I was discovering more international writers of interest around that time too.)