Book Review: LaRose by Louise Erdrich
Book Review: LaRose by Louise Erdrich
From
1975 to 1985, American literature was radically altered in a positive way.
During this era, the phrase "identity politics" was not yet uttered
with a negative connotation and "feminist" was not a dirty word. In
fact, it was a period where people would have been proud to be called
"politically correct" because to be political was considered good and
the opposite of correct was incorrect or wrong. During this period, Maxine Hong
Kingston's "The Woman Warrior" and Toni Morrison's "Song of
Solomon" as well as Louise Erdrich's "Love Medicine" were all
published. These books told tales of people that the larger society had tried
to erase or ignore, and were written by those who were neither white nor male.
Erdrich
is a master storyteller and her words illustrate powerful images. From her
descriptions such as "She was a blank wall, fresh painted," to
"I am a broken animal, she whispered," to "Dawn was sad, calm,
and brimming with debt," she creates a vivid picture. Furthermore, she
utilizes an interesting technique by combining like and unlike objects together
to create a meaningful whole. By doing this, her Native American characters are
able to embrace aspects of white culture while still holding on to their own
heritage.
She
was taught how to use a sewing machine and was forced to imagine her lips being
sewn shut so she couldn't speak her native Anishinaabe language. She was
subjected to beatings with a board, and was taught how to eat with a fork and
spoon, as well as how to grow and even steal vegetables. She also learned how
to clean walls, pots and her own body, and became aware of what rats were and
how to kill them. Additionally, she was instructed on how to stand and walk in
a manner that would be accepted by white people, and was even forced to use and
then wash out menstrual rags that Ojibwe women would never have had to do. She
was made to smell and itch from lice and had to sleep on cold floors, as well
as hide the fact that she had tuberculosis. She was taught 'The Battle Hymn of
the Republic', as well as how to use both fierce and subtle Ojibwe poisons and
how to put her spirit away for safekeeping when needed by her mother.
Erdrich's
works are a testament to her prowess in creating intricate forms. The stories
she tells are multifaceted and form an expansive, yet durable, web of tales,
depicting the lives of Native Americans both alive and deceased, along with the
burden and might of their culture, and the difficulties and hilarity of dealing
with the requirements of today's world. Additionally, her literature endeavors
to address the most fundamental human inquiries. Her newest novel,
"LaRose," reflects on a straightforward but meaningful inquiry; Is it
possible for someone to do the worst thing imaginable and still be loved?
Landreaux, the protagonist of the novel, commits the most horrendous of actions
- he accidentally kills his best friend's son while hunting a deer. Burdened by
guilt, heartache and regret, he looks to the wisdom of his Native American
ancestors and decides to give his own son to the parents of the deceased child.
However, this is the 21st century, and the boy who was killed resides outside
of the reservation.
The
5-year-old boy, LaRose, was named for his ancestors who were renowned for their
healing abilities. We are then taken back to 1839 when LaRose was a young girl
and observe her part in the murder of the rapist who violated her, her romance
and marriage, and finally her death and the theft of her remains by white
"scientists". In a subtle way, Erdrich includes facts about Indian
history which force the reader to recognize the harm which has been carried on
from one generation to the next. It is a shock to read what L. Frank Baum wrote
in a newspaper article in the late 19th century that "our only safety
depends upon the total extermination of the Indians". The destiny of
LaRose and the two families he belongs to will be played out in their
community. Described as a "magic realist", Erdrich's writing is
beautiful as she captures the reservation and the influence of modern American
culture. Landreaux, who works as a home health aide, visits his mother-in-law
in an assisted-living facility run by the tribe and they are unable to express
their sorrow. Instead, they talk about the carpet-shampooing machine recently
purchased by the tribe.
The residents of the assisted-living home in this serious novel provide an
unexpected comedic element in their interactions with the priest-described
Romeo. As punishment for stealing their drugs, they present him with a beverage
that gives him an unstoppable erection and uncontrollable diarrhea. Romeo had
convinced them that the "extra T-shirts, mouse pads, soft-foam-grip hand
exercisers, mini flashlights, pens and pencils, water bottles" he provided
were adequate compensation for his thievery. As a result of Landreaux's
betrayal of him in their childhood, Romeo is resolute to avenge himself by
convincing Peter, the father of the dead child, that the death was not
accidental. Much like Iago and Malvolio, he finds his strength in the secrets
he keeps, discovering them through his jobs at the hospital and the nursing
home, and stitching them together in a quilt of deception.
Romeo is the most well-developed masculine character in Erdrich's works.
Landreaux and Peter, on the other hand, appear weak and incomplete in
comparison. We are led to believe that Landreaux was a troublemaker in his
past, but it is never truly explored. Peter's obsession with the Y2K panic is
the only time he becomes a more substantial figure. Father Travis, from Erdrich's
National Book Award-winning novel, "The Round House", appears as an
illicit lover, although Erdrich's writing falters in portraying these meetings.
His final line of "You love a woman you can never have... Suck it up and
deal" does not do justice to Erdrich's writing abilities.
In
"LaRose", Erdrich uses food as a means of redemption. From Nola's
cakes, a grape spat, to a marshmallow/spaghetti tower competition, all the way
to a feast of potato salad, sheet cakes, and Famous Dave's BBQ sauce at the
novel's conclusion, Erdrich illustrates the possibility of forgiveness. She
emphasizes that no matter how bad a deed, there is always room at the table.
Through this use of food, she answers her own question of whether it is
possible to be loved despite having done the worst possible thing: a resounding
yes.
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