Monday, July 22, 2024

Wandering Stars

 Wandering Stars

By Tommy Orange

My first book of the summer. It's taken me almost a month to start this reflection, perhaps because this
isn't the typical beach read one might reach for in the early days of a summer vacation.

The book fills in both the past and future of the characters Orange introduced in There, There, his tale of modern-day Native American lives in Oakland. It starts in the second half of the 1800s with survivors of the Sand Creek Massacre, who become entrapped in the American mission to "kill the Indian and save the man", neither of which were accomplished. In fact, I did not at first understand that this book and There, There were connected, and am still a little confused about the prequel part of the book. Orange seems to move so fast through a century, with chapters reading more like individual short stories than part of a larger narrative arc. Or maybe I just wasn't paying enough attention. The New York Times says that in filling out the lineage of the Read feathers at the center of There, There, Orange emphasizes that, despite our nation's best efforts, Native people, and there lineage, remain.

The bulk of the novel dwells on the aftermath of the shooting, at a Powow, of Orvil Read feather. It isn't pretty. Given pills to help manage his pain, Orvil becomes another in a line of addicts in his family. He drops out of school after meeting another addict who has nearly unlimited access to his father's stash, a pharmacist-turned-drug-maker. He gets clean, turning to running as his outlet, but there is no fairy-tale ending here. Personal and historical trauma remain, and Orvil nearly takes his own life. The family becomes splintered, though there remains hope at the end of a reunification. Which seems maybe like the message here? That, despite the complexities of history and identity and addiction and poverty, there is hope?