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A review by anishinaabekwereads
There There by Tommy Orange
5.0
Tommy Orange's debut novel is unflinching in its examination of urban indigenous life. Filled with harsh confrontations with struggle, addiction, and numerous violences, There There is also about a yearning to reclaim indigenous identities and the messy paths these journeys often take. Love in the face of pain and determination in the face of adversity merge in this novel with an overwhelming longing and nostalgia for places and times in our pasts that are irretrievable.
This novel has really pulled me deep into myself and the lives of so many people I know. For that reason, a lot of this book resonated with me on an intimate level and that has definitely colored my reception of the book. I have read a lot of Native literature over the years and this joins a very small list of books I've encountered that are centered in cities. Because of that, the lives of the urban indigenous people within this novel speak to experiences that defy typical stereotypes of Native peoples (to an extent, more on that later). For that alone, I am 100% behind this book. There simply is not enough literature featuring urban indigenous experiences and, given that we make up such a large proportion of indigenous populations in general, it has always left me feeling a certain way. While I certainly know more about urban indigenous histories than the average reader (not bragging, just stating this is what my dissertation is about), careful attention to the prologue can direct the reader to understanding how city, homeland, and self are intricately intertwined for indigenous peoples, especially those in this book.
Difficult subject matter:
This book is often a difficult read. The subject matter and the content is not easy to deal with. Alcoholism, drug addiction, abuse, and so many instances of physical violence might turn off some readers. More still, a lot of these things might make the educated reader of Native lit and history wary. Yes, these things fill the novel and could possibly reinforce dangerous stereotypes of the addicted Native ("the drunk Indian," "the drug addicted Indian," "the drug dealing Indian," etc.). Yet, from my perspective as an indigenous woman who grew up in a city, these things are so unbearably real that my reactions were out of a different kind of discomfort. It was too real. I felt like I knew these characters because, in a lot of ways, I do. And that to me was heartbreaking and made me love this book even more. The realities of violence and addiction are hard to look at and I appreciated Orange's unwavering exposition of these things.
Identity:
The various character experiences of their indigenous identities are some of the most real portrayals I have ever encountered. As previously mentioned, the dearth of urban indigenous literature means that this is something readers don't often get to grapple with while reading. This book presents some incredibly real moments of loss, separation from homeland and indigenous nation, and the efforts (by some) to muddle their way back to a sense of self and community.
Place:
Much has been said about the title of this novel and I'll leave that to others. For me, the thing about this novel's interaction with place was enough to make me swoon with happiness. I am all about place-based stories and, especially in indigenous literature, the relationship between characters and place are even more important. I knew the minute I read Dene Oxendene's vignette that I had found enough of that interaction with urban landscape that I have craved for so long. I felt it, the place itself, and how it is tied so intimately to our own experiences as people in that landscape itself. The shaping of place by us and the shaping of us by place left me with such longing to strike out onto the streets of my hometown and just be in the space that holds my heart despite all of the pain I and those I love have experienced here.
Finally, I do need to confess that I do see some less than stellar aspects of this book. It's in no way a perfect novel. There were character vignettes that I could have done without, reiterations of identity struggle that often felt almost too underdeveloped (though honestly real in their portrayals), and the occasional scene that jarred me out of the flow of the story. Yet, because I related so personally to this book, I simply have to give it all the praise, love, and recommendation.
This novel has really pulled me deep into myself and the lives of so many people I know. For that reason, a lot of this book resonated with me on an intimate level and that has definitely colored my reception of the book. I have read a lot of Native literature over the years and this joins a very small list of books I've encountered that are centered in cities. Because of that, the lives of the urban indigenous people within this novel speak to experiences that defy typical stereotypes of Native peoples (to an extent, more on that later). For that alone, I am 100% behind this book. There simply is not enough literature featuring urban indigenous experiences and, given that we make up such a large proportion of indigenous populations in general, it has always left me feeling a certain way. While I certainly know more about urban indigenous histories than the average reader (not bragging, just stating this is what my dissertation is about), careful attention to the prologue can direct the reader to understanding how city, homeland, and self are intricately intertwined for indigenous peoples, especially those in this book.
Difficult subject matter:
This book is often a difficult read. The subject matter and the content is not easy to deal with. Alcoholism, drug addiction, abuse, and so many instances of physical violence might turn off some readers. More still, a lot of these things might make the educated reader of Native lit and history wary. Yes, these things fill the novel and could possibly reinforce dangerous stereotypes of the addicted Native ("the drunk Indian," "the drug addicted Indian," "the drug dealing Indian," etc.). Yet, from my perspective as an indigenous woman who grew up in a city, these things are so unbearably real that my reactions were out of a different kind of discomfort. It was too real. I felt like I knew these characters because, in a lot of ways, I do. And that to me was heartbreaking and made me love this book even more. The realities of violence and addiction are hard to look at and I appreciated Orange's unwavering exposition of these things.
Identity:
The various character experiences of their indigenous identities are some of the most real portrayals I have ever encountered. As previously mentioned, the dearth of urban indigenous literature means that this is something readers don't often get to grapple with while reading. This book presents some incredibly real moments of loss, separation from homeland and indigenous nation, and the efforts (by some) to muddle their way back to a sense of self and community.
Place:
Much has been said about the title of this novel and I'll leave that to others. For me, the thing about this novel's interaction with place was enough to make me swoon with happiness. I am all about place-based stories and, especially in indigenous literature, the relationship between characters and place are even more important. I knew the minute I read Dene Oxendene's vignette that I had found enough of that interaction with urban landscape that I have craved for so long. I felt it, the place itself, and how it is tied so intimately to our own experiences as people in that landscape itself. The shaping of place by us and the shaping of us by place left me with such longing to strike out onto the streets of my hometown and just be in the space that holds my heart despite all of the pain I and those I love have experienced here.
Finally, I do need to confess that I do see some less than stellar aspects of this book. It's in no way a perfect novel. There were character vignettes that I could have done without, reiterations of identity struggle that often felt almost too underdeveloped (though honestly real in their portrayals), and the occasional scene that jarred me out of the flow of the story. Yet, because I related so personally to this book, I simply have to give it all the praise, love, and recommendation.