The Last Report on the Miracles at Little No Horse

/ Denise / 1 Comment

by Louise Erdrich

Cover of The Last Report on the Miracles at Little No Horse, with a beaded cross necklace and a small howling wolf on either side.

In Louise Erdrich’s book The Sentence, one character tells another about a sentence believed to kill the reader.  After thinking about it for a second she says, “I wish I could write a sentence like that.” So far, I haven’t died from reading her books, but Erdirch’s writing is powerful and moving. The Last Report on the Miracles at Little No Horse is a prime example of how her stories waft into your soul and make themselves at home for a time. 

The story focuses on Father Damien, the lone priest at an Anishinaabe reservation in North Dakota called Little No Horse. Father Damien, however —

***POTENTIAL MINOR SPOILER ALERT IF YOU DO NOT WANT TO KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT THE BOOK. THIS NEXT PIECE OF INFORMATION IS ON THE BACK BLURB OF THE BOOK AND REVEALED IN THE FIRST FEW PAGES.  BUT IF YOU WANT TO GO IN COMPLETELY BLIND, CEASE READING THIS REVIEW, GO READ THE FIRST CHAPTER, AND THEN YOU CAN COME BACK. WHILE YOU GET THIS BOOK, YOU COULD ALSO CHECK OUT THESE BOOKS BY NATIVE AUTHORS THAT WERE PREVIOUSLY REVIEWED HERE. DO NOT SCROLL ANY FURTHER THOUGH UNTIL YOU’RE READY.***

— is actually a woman named Agnes DeWitt.  Agnes isn’t a trans character, but Erdrich does touch on indigenous beliefs and ideas regarding gender as Agnes navigates between herself and Father Damien.

 

The story bounces back and forth between Agnes/Father Damien’s beginning at Little No Horse in the early 1900s as a young priest and the present (roughly the 1990s). As Father Damien nears 100 years of age, the Vatican sends another priest to Little No Horse. His job is to determine whether one of the Native nuns, Pauline Puyat/Sister Leopolda, is eligible for canonization. This forces Father Damien to wrestle with his secrets and what he can or should share.  Both story lines are intriguing, but I definitely enjoyed the earlier parts of Father Damien/Agnes DeWitt’s life more.

Erdrich weaves in a lot of themes and ideas throughout the book.  Obviously, gender/gender identity plays a significant role.  While Agnes embodies a male persona as Father Damien, she embraces her woman-ness as Agnes in the quiet, empty spaces of her life.  But many of Father Damien’s Ojibwe friends recognize that there is something different about him; unlike Euro-Americans, however, they have a background and tradition that allows them to articulate and understand that difference. 

Erdrich also gorgeously explores the mysteries of faith.  Throughout his tenure at Little No Horse, Father Damien writes letter after letter to each Pope for nearly a century.  Yet until the Vatican sends a priest to investigate the miracles of Sister Leopolda, he receives no answer.  It suggested the very nature of prayer – petitions and questions and begging for guidance to which there is never an answer. Agnes/Father Damien have a few instances in which they feel to be in direct contact with the Divine – and yet, it is only a moment followed by decades of silence. 

Despite his position as a missionary, ordered to bring the Word of God to the “heathens” of the reservation, Father Damien quickly finds himself accepting Anishinaabe beliefs. Often he finds those beliefs to be of greater value and comfort than Catholic dogma.  While Catholicism remains a grounding system for Agnes and Father Damien alike, they see the value of Anishinaabe traditions and spirituality and see no reason why those should be cast aside.  As other priests flit in and out of Little No Horse, they seem scandalized at Father Damien’s potential blasphemy. And yet, they also stand in awe of his faith.

Through all of this, Erdrich includes a variety of important historical events, from the 1918 flu pandemic to the horrific legacy of forced boarding schools for Native children to the starvation that regularly occurred on the reservations as a result of the U.S. failing to live up to its treaty obligations.  It is an incredible story of how people continue to survive and thrive, despite all the trauma, all the pain, all the hurt.  And not only do they survive, but they continue to love, to believe, to live.  Yet the story does not downplay the very real, long-lasting effects of those traumas either.  Each character must find a way to live with or drown in those hardships as well. 

I cannot recommend Erdrich’s books enough.  The Last Report on the Miracles at Little No Horse is a great place to start.  Although my understanding is that some of her earlier books include some of the same characters, I have yet to read them. I never felt like I was missing something as I read this one though.  Go and enjoy.  

Find it online here.

The Daughter of Doctor Moreau

/ Denise / 4 Comments

by Silvia Morena-Garcia

Book The Daughter of Doctor Moreau set among green leaves and branches.

The Island of Doctor Moreau, by H.G. Wells, is one of those stories where even if you haven’t read the book, you likely know the broad strokes of the plot: a crazed scientists conducts horrible experiments on a remote island, resulting in strange human/animal hybrids.  There have been movies and references and even a Simpsons parody. But you can ignore all of those and dive straight into Silvia Moreno-Garcia’s reimagining take, The Daughter of Doctor Moreau.  It is a spellbinding tale, centering Doctor Moreau’s heretofore unknown daughter as she navigates the dangers coming her way. 

Carlota Moreau is a smart, stubborn, and curious young woman.  The natural child of Doctor Moreau, she has never traveled outside her father’s estate, Yaxaktun, in the remote Yucatán Peninsula. Her only human contacts are her father, his patron Hernando Lizalde, Ramona the servant woman, and the various mayordomos brought in to oversee the estate.  But those are far from her only companions.  There are a host of hybrids, the results of her father’s experiments, whom she knows and loves.

As our story begins, a new mayordomo, a British man named Montgomery Laughton arrives at Yaxaktun. The isolation of Yaxaktun, and the Yucatán in general, make it difficult to find hired help.  As Ramon explains to Carlota, it is not a place for people who want to be found.  But that seems to suit Mr. Laughton just fine. 

Six years later, however, more newcomers arrive at the remote estate and very quickly, the isolated routines of Yaxaktun begin to fall apart. There is more to this island her father created, and Carlota will seek the truth – whatever the cost. 

The book switches between Carlota and Montgomery’s perspective.  This effectively gives us a good background into both and understanding for their motives.  At times, the story loops back on itself so we get both characters’ insights into the exact same scene.  Had this been overdone, it might have been frustrating, but Moreno-Garcia uses it sparingly and to great effect. 

I first read Silvia Moreno-Garcia‘s The Gods of Jade and Shadow.  I quickly fell in love with her writing style and her characters.  I’ve since read The Beautiful Ones, Certain Dark Things, Mexican Gothic, Untamed Shore, and Velvet was the Night, her previous book before The Daughter of Doctor Moreau. Pick any of them and jump right in – they don’t disappoint! Moreno-Garcia does a fantastic job of creating amazing settings for her characters to inhabit and giving her heroines (and other characters) a plethora of emotions, motives, virtues, and vices.  Weaving in romantic story lines can be tricky, but she handles them deftly and beautifully. 

I also really appreciate the glimpses of Mexican history that she peppers through her novels.  In the background of The Daughter of Doctor Moreau, the rebellion of Mayans against European and Mexican forces lurks, with some of the hybrids whispering the name of the famous (or infamous, depending on one’s perspective) leader.  While Carlota has the privilege of long ignoring politics and social issues, the hybrids do not.

And where Wells focused on issues of the search for knowledge and abuse in the name of science and man’s desire to dominate his environment and the creatures around him, Moreno-Garcia uses the hybrids to dissect issues of colonialism, racism, and labor exploitation.  As Hernando Lizalde explains early on in the book, he is only supporting Doctor Moreau’s experiments because the hybrids could be the key to the labor issues on the haciendas.  The Indians, he explains, can no longer be trusted in light of the rebellion, and with the end of the slave trade and the poor track record of European laborers, a “home grown” labor force designed for exploitation seems to be the perfect ticket.  While the doctor agreed to such a use, it is clear he has his own motives for his experiments.  But are they any better?   

Overall, I highly recommend The Daughter of Doctor Moreau.  And then the rest of her books. 

Find it online here.

Master of Poisons by Andrea Hairston

/ Denise / Leave a comment
Book cover of Master of Poisons with a tiger lily flower on the right.

I love entering new fantasy worlds.  As terrible as I am with learning new languages, I enjoy puzzling out a society’s hierarchy, the slang, the idioms, the power structures, religious/spiritual beliefs, etc. Andrea Hairston creates a fantastic world to puzzle through. I’ve written previously that I’m also a big fan of fantasy based on something other than medieval Europe, and Master of Poisons, with its African foundation, checks that box too. 

“We are more likely to deny truth than admit grave error and change our minds.  Even in the face of overwhelming evidence of imminent destruction, we refuse to believe in any gods but our own.  Who can bear for the ground to dissolve under their feet and the stars to fall from the sky?  So we twist every story to preserve our faith.”

Djola is the Master of Poisons for the Arkhysian Empire and the right-hand man of Emperor Azizi.  He has spent the last twenty years trying to convince the Emperor and the rest of his council that if the empire didn’t start caring for the environment and make the necessary, but difficult, changes, the consequences would be dire.  Slowly at first, and then more quickly, poison deserts expanded, destroying forests and rivers and displacing people.  But:

“As long as sweet water fell from the sky every afternoon and mist rolled in on a night win, everybody promised to change – tomorrow or next week.  Then crops failed and rivers turned to dust.  Good citizens now feared change would make no difference or was in fact impossible.  Who could fight the wind?”

The allegory for our current climate crisis is clear.  Djola’s frustration is one shared by anyone who paid attention to scientists since the 70s regarding greenhouse gasses.  No one wants to make the necessary changes, which might require some short-term pain or disruptions, to prevent disaster 50-100 years down the road.  But once they start living with the actual effects of their inaction, they become paralyzed, thinking that there is no way to change their trajectory and they are doomed.  They still don’t seem to understand that even if they can’t go back to a better time, they can at least work to prevent things from getting worse.  Instead, they’ll listen to short-term cons that might provide an illusion of improvement, but create even more long-term crises.  Djola finds himself exiled, searching for magic that might finally solve the problem.

Meanwhile, a young girl named Awa already has a significant connection to alternate spirit realms.  With an affinity for bees, Awa can make journeys into Smokeland, which creates dangers for her.  Sold off by her father at age 12, Awa is all too aware of society’s views of women, non-binary folks, and non-male magic users.  Thankfully, she was sold to a group of griots (storytellers), who help her develop her skills. 

Overall, Master of Poisons is a fascinating world.  Or worlds, when you consider the Smokelands.  I also really appreciated that these characters aren’t solving the problem overnight.  Years can pass between chapters or segments of the book and characters still aren’t even sure where to start.  In addition to the climate issue, Master of Poisons also tackles issues of race, gender, empire, and family.

In a lot of ways, though, this was a book that I felt more like I wanted to like rather than one I actually did like.  There were a lot of things that still seemed a little unclear or that I didn’t quite gel with.  It’s possible that part of that reason is that the climate situation is too close to reality and knowing that there isn’t a magic spell that could turn things around is disheartening. And yet, the point of the story is that even in a world of magic, fixing systemic problems requires a lot of work, dedication, and cooperation between diverse groups. 

I felt like this was a stand-alone book, which I appreciate it. Series are wonderful, but sometimes I just want a complete story in one book.  Master of Poisons is the type of book will probably benefit from multiple re-reads.  So while it wasn’t my favorite, I’m glad I read it and maybe at some point, I’ll be back to visit it again. 

Find it online here.

My Heart is a Chainsaw by Stephen Graham Jones

/ Denise / 3 Comments
My Heart is a Chainsaw book cover

Not that long ago, if you had asked me if I was a horror fan, I’d have said no.  Then recently I realized that I kept starting sentences with “I’m not much of a horror fan, but…” and proceeded to gush about the latest book I picked up from the horror section. Plain Bad Heroines.  The Twisted Ones and The Hollow Places.  Books by Alma Katsu.  And then a friend of mine recommended The Only Good Indians by Stephen Graham Jones.  It was fantastic.  I’m not great at visualizing things, but there were plenty of moments that became crystal clear in my mind (for better or worse – better).  So as soon as I saw My Heart is a Chainsaw, I knew I had to have it.

It did not disappoint.  My Heart is a Chainsaw opens with two European young tourists clambering into a small boat on a large, deep lake in Idaho in the dark of night.  Even a horror novice like me could tell you that’s a bad idea. There has to be something bad lurking out there, right?

Well, if there is, Jade Daniels will figure it out.  Jade is about to – hopefully – graduate from high school and she is ready to leave this small town that doesn’t understand her and never has. She makes sure she stands out and stands apart, though it’s clear she also desperately wants someone to reach out. Preferably someone who shares her adoration of slasher horror films or at least is willing to listen to her preach from the gospel of gore. 

Because no one knows slasher films like Jade Daniels.  In her attempt to bump up her history grade and actually graduate, Jade writes a series of papers on slashers. They’re sprinkled in throughout the book, giving us all a crash course in Slasher 101.  

Jade is sure her little town is on the cusp of a slasher cycle – there’s even an old campground known as Camp Blood where kids died fifty years previously.  As more bodies are discovered in town, Jade excitedly uses her knowledge to try to figure out who the killer is and, most importantly, help prepare the Final Girl to unlock her powers and be ready to defeat the slasher.

Jade is very clear that she is not Final Girl material, but she has zeroed in on who is.  And as wonderful as it is to see her reach out to a new girl and start taking (somewhat hesitant) steps towards friendship, listening to her enumerate the reasons why she can’t possibly be the final girl is heartbreaking.  Hiding under her tough, sarcastic exterior is a child who has suffered a lot.  Abandoned by her mother.  Stuck in a house with her abusive father.  Dealing with a pervy school employee.  Horror gives her a way to cope, a way to imagine revenge and justice for a life that sees precious little of either. 

As always, Jones does an incredible job of immersing us into this world, specifically into Jade’s perspective of the world.  At times, we’re unsure what’s really going on, where we should really be focused, because Jade isn’t sure or she is focused on the wrong thing.  We know that she’s hiding things from herself, trying not to let everything in – she misses seven weeks of school right in the beginning as a result of a suicide attempt. 

But even as we might be tempted to think that what we’re reading is simply Jade’s wishful thinking or dreams of justice, there’s a brutal murder that reminds us the violence and death is very much real.  As the town prepares for its annual 4th of July celebration, including an after-dark showing of Jaws with everyone floating on the lake, we’re on the edge of our seats wondering if Jade and her Final Girl will save them – or if Jade even wants to. 

This book is so good that even before I finished it, I was recommending it to people. That can be dangerous, since I’m sure we’ve all experienced a book or movie or TV series that started out amazing and then failed to stick the landing. Not a problem with My Heart is a Chainsaw – it’s thrilling from start to finish. Of course, as I read late into the night, it took a lot of courage to let the dogs out when they started whining…

Also, if you aren’t a slasher movie fan yourself, this book is still well worth the read! I’m definitely not a horror movie person.  I remember watching a few at sleepovers in junior high/high school (Halloween and Candyman, specifically), but most of my knowledge of horror movies come from early Simpsons’ Treehouse of Horror episodes. It didn’t hinder my understanding or enjoyment of this book in the slightest. I’m sure if you do know your slashers, it’ll be an extra level of delight, but I hope no one decides to pass on this because they don’t know the foundational texts.  Besides, Jade does a great job with her essays. She definitely deserves an A just for that. And so does My Heart is a Chainsaw.

Find it online

The Devil’s Revolver by V.S. McGrath

/ Denise / 1 Comment
Cover of The Devil's Revolver

In the interest of full disclosure, I received a free e-copy of The Devil’s Revolver for the purposes of review.  That doesn’t change my opinions, but I probably wouldn’t have read this/been aware of it otherwise.  Just in case that counts as influence for some. 


American western meets fantasy is a fun world that The Devil’s Revolver drops us into.  We meet Hettie Alabama, a 17-year-old young woman preparing to enter a shooting competition to earn her family some money.  She lives with her parents, her younger sister Abby, and “Uncle” Jeramiah.

Things haven’t been easy for the family.  Hettie’s older brother, Paul, died protecting her from knife-wielding stranger years earlier.  Money is tight.  And perhaps most concerning for Hettie is Abby’s habit of slipping out of the house to wander down to the river to talk with friends no one else can see or hear. Such a habit is soon to garner unwanted attention.

Hettie can’t do much about two of those things, but she is a talented shooter. She enters the competition, determine to tackle the money issue.  Little does she know, however, that this decision will set into motion a chain of events that will lead her all over the West with a revolver that doesn’t miss, doesn’t run out of ammo, and doesn’t shoot without a cost.

McGrath does a splendid job introducing us to the rules of this world without any kind of exposition dump.  Within a few pages, we learn that magic is a regular part of life, but not everyone is gifted.  Most people use talismans and protection spells, but those cost money.  A government division seeks out children who show signs of being gifted, another concern for Hettie.  It seems clear that Abby has some kind of power, but no one in the family wants to risk her coming onto the government’s radar.  There are magical monsters roaming the terrain and plenty of human ones as well.  Aside from the magic, though, much of the rest is familiar to any Westerns fans. 

I really liked the character of Hettie.  While a talented shooter and a dedicated sister, she also still acts like most seventeen-year-olds.  There were a few situations where she makes choices that, as a reader, we can see are tricky or a trap, but if it was me at 17 and I didn’t know I was a heroine in a book, I would’ve likely done the exact same.  She can be rash and hot-headed, but her heart is in the right place, even with a demon-possessed revolver in hand. The other characters that move into her orbit are fun and interesting as well, but Hettie is definitely my favorite.

There are some aspects of the world and the titular revolver that remain unexplained or feel a bit underdeveloped, but I think it’s because this is just the first book in a series and you have to leave some questions and loose ends for the next story to take. 

Overall, this was a fun read with interesting characters and a cool take on Westerns.  Worth checking out!

Find it online here.