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3.96 AVERAGE
3.96 AVERAGE
3.5/5
For better or for worse, I've committed myself to the career path of reading and writing about reading and reading about writing about reading and forever and anon, which at times simply means that I'll become increasingly more nit picky and increasingly better at defining the context of said nit pickiness. Politically speaking, I weed out bigotry. Narratologically speaking, I weed out tropes, especially the ones that take reality and normalize the points that bend and break and bleed the individuals who do not fit, and there is no one identity that renders said identified immune to committing such actions. That's intersectionality for you, and it's as much of a bitch as it deconstructs the continued existence of that delightfully apt yet horrifically spacegoating phrase.
Like other books I've read in my continued project of rearranging my most read authors, this reading was constantly stalked by [b:Tracks|78887|Tracks|Louise Erdrich|https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1170962034s/78887.jpg|188924], its chronological predecessor in my reading history. Thanks to it, I expected certain things: an engaging narratives, four or five thought inspiring quotes, a pathos that was neither sentimental nor patronizing but involved true respect for a true remembrance of what should never be forgotten. I got bits and pieces of it all, including a hint of housebound gothic that I would love to write a paper about, but ultimately, two tropes interfered with this: the Neuroatypical Wunderkind and the Man in the Dress Rigamarole, aka ableism and transmisogyny. I see the revenge plot, and the healing, and all the bloody and death defying things that are done to fulfill both the killing and the life of such phrases while the slow sordid beast of colonialism rolls on courthouses and country yards, but when all of this hinges on turning points of dehumanization, its leaves me wondering what the point of a revenge plot is if it spawns an endless wave of justified massacre in its wake.
This last few weeks or so have been a tad monotonous with all the attention I've been paying to solely those I've encountered before, so I'm switching gears to chase down the unread of whom I own copies of variegated works. I'm hoping this'll help with my reception down the line of those I've encountered before, as it seems that my past insistence of never sticking with an author for more than one book within a five year span had its logic amidst its guise of a habit. I don't have any other books by Erdrich on hand, but that's what lightning strike inspiration and library sales are for.
For better or for worse, I've committed myself to the career path of reading and writing about reading and reading about writing about reading and forever and anon, which at times simply means that I'll become increasingly more nit picky and increasingly better at defining the context of said nit pickiness. Politically speaking, I weed out bigotry. Narratologically speaking, I weed out tropes, especially the ones that take reality and normalize the points that bend and break and bleed the individuals who do not fit, and there is no one identity that renders said identified immune to committing such actions. That's intersectionality for you, and it's as much of a bitch as it deconstructs the continued existence of that delightfully apt yet horrifically spacegoating phrase.
Like other books I've read in my continued project of rearranging my most read authors, this reading was constantly stalked by [b:Tracks|78887|Tracks|Louise Erdrich|https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1170962034s/78887.jpg|188924], its chronological predecessor in my reading history. Thanks to it, I expected certain things: an engaging narratives, four or five thought inspiring quotes, a pathos that was neither sentimental nor patronizing but involved true respect for a true remembrance of what should never be forgotten. I got bits and pieces of it all, including a hint of housebound gothic that I would love to write a paper about, but ultimately, two tropes interfered with this: the Neuroatypical Wunderkind and the Man in the Dress Rigamarole, aka ableism and transmisogyny. I see the revenge plot, and the healing, and all the bloody and death defying things that are done to fulfill both the killing and the life of such phrases while the slow sordid beast of colonialism rolls on courthouses and country yards, but when all of this hinges on turning points of dehumanization, its leaves me wondering what the point of a revenge plot is if it spawns an endless wave of justified massacre in its wake.
This last few weeks or so have been a tad monotonous with all the attention I've been paying to solely those I've encountered before, so I'm switching gears to chase down the unread of whom I own copies of variegated works. I'm hoping this'll help with my reception down the line of those I've encountered before, as it seems that my past insistence of never sticking with an author for more than one book within a five year span had its logic amidst its guise of a habit. I don't have any other books by Erdrich on hand, but that's what lightning strike inspiration and library sales are for.
Smallpox ravaged us quick, tuberculosis killed us slow, liquor made us , religion meddled with our souls, but the bureaucrats did the worst and finally bored us to death.
Another great one by Louise Erdrich. I love these characters.
Listen, I am a major major fan of Louise Erdrich’s work. This was just not it for me. Very few redeeming qualities with respect to the unlikeable characters and I totally respect the literary purposes for that, however, I just couldn’t sink into this one.
I felt really engrossed in this one. I loved the characters, the plot moved at a good pace and it was surprisingly funny at times.
The Love Medicine series is an excellent collection of books. Really enjoy having familiarity with the characters, families, and locations before even starting this novel. Within Four Souls Louise Erdrich returns from modernism to the very traditional . Great story telling reflecting the beauty and challenges of everyday life with a very strong presence of the spiritual.
Excellent prose. Liked Nanapush's mixture of sincerity and ridiculous behavior best. Interested enough by the characters to read Tracks.
Re-reading this book after getting on a bit of a Louise Erdrich kick this summer. Chronologically takes place right after Tracks, so I picked it up after re-reading Tracks this fall. Only made it as far as Chapter 1 before getting pulled into other things... now reading it in earnest.
I love the character development in this series by Louise Erdrich and Four Souls delivers more of the same. Interesting to read of Fleur's flaws and weaknesses right after reading Tracks, which focuses on her power. Even though the book is about her, is really isn't about her much at all; more about the stories of the people associated with her. I love the transformation of Polly Elizabeth. Although I liked Tracks better overall, I think Four Souls is more accessible. Less myth and dream sequence, less sorrow and tragedy.
Now I'm trying to decide which book to re-read next... Chronologically would it be Last Report on the Miracle at Little No Horse or Love Medicine?
I love the character development in this series by Louise Erdrich and Four Souls delivers more of the same. Interesting to read of Fleur's flaws and weaknesses right after reading Tracks, which focuses on her power. Even though the book is about her, is really isn't about her much at all; more about the stories of the people associated with her. I love the transformation of Polly Elizabeth. Although I liked Tracks better overall, I think Four Souls is more accessible. Less myth and dream sequence, less sorrow and tragedy.
Now I'm trying to decide which book to re-read next... Chronologically would it be Last Report on the Miracle at Little No Horse or Love Medicine?
This book has come close to unseating Love Medicine as my favorite Erdrich book (and Love Medicine is my favorite book ever, so that says a lot). The intertwining of stories, the different perspectives all in such distinct voices, but all touched with humor and cutting perception. She is a master. One of the things I appreciate about this book in particular is that it deals with tragedy as a fact of life, something that must be dealt with and moved on from, but it doesn’t get stuck in that. I’ve been making my way through a number of Erdrich books lately, and I love all of them, but this one didn’t leave me devastated. It gave me hope. Also, I love Fleur and Nanapush and am so grateful to spend some more time with their voices.
dark
funny
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
Yes
Diverse cast of characters:
Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes