Scan barcode
A review by yarnylibrarian
The Painted Drum by Louise Erdrich
5.0
I picked this book up while out of town in order to have something gripping to read on a long flight home. It did not disappoint.
Louise Erdrich is the master of interlocking storylines. I love seeing how her characters weave a web of relationships across time. In this novel, we meet the powerful Fleur Pillager (who features in other works, such as Tracks) as a baby. We also get a sense of how those who leave the reservation are still tied to it, whether or not they understand how.
The story begins in New Hampshire, where an estate sale specialist of Ojibwe descent steals a drum that turns up in the attic of an Indian agent's descendant. The drum is returned to the reservation, where its healing power is restored. We hear the story of how the drum was made years earlier, and we hear how several children are saved by it. The narrative moves from character to character, each affected by the drum in some way. There is a sense of great symmetry in this book. I almost feel I should re-read it and map the storylines in order to see it more fully.
But for now, I remain awash in Erdrich's language, which has the uncanny effect of focusing simultaneously on the minute and the grand. I marked a lot of passages that struck me; here is one good example from early in the novel. The narrator, Faye, is describing the road on which she lives:
The order that rewards the patient watcher... Erdrich's books are steeped in that. I often feel I only get a glimpse of the full effect.
There are so many other details that stick in my mind... the extreme poverty of Ira and her children, who resort to drinking cough medicine and sweeping crumbs from between the shelf paper and the shelf in order to stave off hunger; the anguish of a husband jilted by his wife, who lost their older daughter while running away from her husband and son; a father whose favoritism toward one daughter cost him her life and left the other haunted.
There was a time in my life when I could claim to have read all of Erdrich's works. Somehow a few have slipped past me in more recent years. I intend to backtrack and remedy that. I'd love to spend a summer rereading everything. Hmmmm.......
Louise Erdrich is the master of interlocking storylines. I love seeing how her characters weave a web of relationships across time. In this novel, we meet the powerful Fleur Pillager (who features in other works, such as Tracks) as a baby. We also get a sense of how those who leave the reservation are still tied to it, whether or not they understand how.
The story begins in New Hampshire, where an estate sale specialist of Ojibwe descent steals a drum that turns up in the attic of an Indian agent's descendant. The drum is returned to the reservation, where its healing power is restored. We hear the story of how the drum was made years earlier, and we hear how several children are saved by it. The narrative moves from character to character, each affected by the drum in some way. There is a sense of great symmetry in this book. I almost feel I should re-read it and map the storylines in order to see it more fully.
But for now, I remain awash in Erdrich's language, which has the uncanny effect of focusing simultaneously on the minute and the grand. I marked a lot of passages that struck me; here is one good example from early in the novel. The narrator, Faye, is describing the road on which she lives:
From the air, our road must look like a ball of rope flung down haphazardly, a thing of inscrutable loops and half-finished question marks. But there is order in it to reward the patient watcher. In the beginning, the road is paved, although the material is of a grade inferior to the main highway's asphalt. When the town votes swing toward committing more money to road upkeep, it is coated with light gravel. Over the course of a summer's heat, the bits of stone are pressed into the softened tar, making a smooth surface for the cars to pick up speed. By midwinter, the frost creeps beneath the road and flexes, creating heaves that force the cars to slow again. I'm glad when that happens, for children walk this road to the bus stop below. They walk past with their dogs, wearing puffy jackets of saturated brilliance - hot pink, hot yellow, hot blue. They change shape and grow before my eyes, becoming the young drivers of fast cars who barely miss the smaller children, who, in their turn, grow up and drive away from here. (4)
The order that rewards the patient watcher... Erdrich's books are steeped in that. I often feel I only get a glimpse of the full effect.
There are so many other details that stick in my mind... the extreme poverty of Ira and her children, who resort to drinking cough medicine and sweeping crumbs from between the shelf paper and the shelf in order to stave off hunger; the anguish of a husband jilted by his wife, who lost their older daughter while running away from her husband and son; a father whose favoritism toward one daughter cost him her life and left the other haunted.
There was a time in my life when I could claim to have read all of Erdrich's works. Somehow a few have slipped past me in more recent years. I intend to backtrack and remedy that. I'd love to spend a summer rereading everything. Hmmmm.......