Scan barcode
A review by usedtotheweather
The Sentence by Louise Erdrich
medium-paced
2.5
A cross between a bookstore novel and an allegorical tale. At times the casting of the characters seemed primarily to have the purpose of playing out the discourse on the George Floyd riots (Indigenous ex-prisoner married to indigenous former cop). In these parts, the novel felt more like a thin demonstration of positions, rather than a more intricate or thorough exercising of the formation and experience of political ideas that people hold. I'd recommend instead the YA book written after the killing of Travyon Martin, Tamir Rice, Michael Brown, and Eric Garner: The Hate You Give by Angie Thomas, where the characters embody carefully selected identities and political positions, but are more fully developed to support and act out those ideas.
In The Sentence, the sections in and about the bookstore and books are of documentary interest for this moment in time, reading lists that reflect the zeitgeist of indie-bookshoppers the past 2 years. But largely this is a paean to books and indie bookstores, a kind of feel good celebration.
There were several passages that worked very hard to narrate indigenous history of the region, to prepare an anti-colonial description of American history. This felt largely didactic, carefully placed for the reader looking for a properly indigenous book. I had the sense that this was a book concocted in part to sell well, aligning with the indie-book-store shoppers' interest in books by and about BIPOC people, but also trying to walk the line of being liberal and apolitical--by which I mean: appalled at killings, but unwilling to take a real position on what it might take to change this pattern (and unwilling to commit any of the characters to this either), and also unwilling to examine in any truly non-liberal positions either. Pollux, the ex-cop, is shown to have sympathies with police officers in principle, but his position is softened first by the fact that he doesn't say much about hit, and secondly by the plot development that he, of all the characters, gets COVID and thereby becomes sympathetic again . There is also little development of the dynamics of being a tribal cop--this is something I would have been interested to see more of, but the book was really much more superficial in engaging the characters, their histories, and contexts than I would have liked.
See Jennifer Wilson's review of this book, which resonates with my thoughts on the book as well.
In The Sentence, the sections in and about the bookstore and books are of documentary interest for this moment in time, reading lists that reflect the zeitgeist of indie-bookshoppers the past 2 years. But largely this is a paean to books and indie bookstores, a kind of feel good celebration.
There were several passages that worked very hard to narrate indigenous history of the region, to prepare an anti-colonial description of American history. This felt largely didactic, carefully placed for the reader looking for a properly indigenous book. I had the sense that this was a book concocted in part to sell well, aligning with the indie-book-store shoppers' interest in books by and about BIPOC people, but also trying to walk the line of being liberal and apolitical--by which I mean: appalled at killings, but unwilling to take a real position on what it might take to change this pattern (and unwilling to commit any of the characters to this either), and also unwilling to examine in any truly non-liberal positions either. Pollux, the ex-cop, is shown to have sympathies with police officers in principle, but his position is softened first by the fact that he doesn't say much about hit, and secondly by the plot development
See Jennifer Wilson's review of this book, which resonates with my thoughts on the book as well.