I loved Erdrich's explorations of issues of gender, race and religion through the person of Fr Damien Modeste—formerly Agnes DeWitt, formerly Sister Cecilia, a white outsider who becomes part of an Ojibwe reservation community. I did find this a little uneven—the pacing was off at times, some of the characters felt more alive than others, and occasionally things felt overly convoluted—but the elegance of Erdrich's prose and the depth of her humour made The Last Report on the Miracles at Little No Horse well worth the read. ( )

Well I guess I am in the minority here, but... this novel didn't work all that well for me. I was engaged, definitely, it kept me reading, but about halfway in I started being annoyed that the thoughts and voices of all the characters all sounded alike. They all sound like Louise Erdrich. ( )

I liked this book, ultimately, even though I found it a little uneven, at times. I usually read pretty quickly, but this one has been at the bedside for over two weeks, and I've started and finished several others while reading it.

One of the things that fascinated me was the difference in character between Agnes and Father Damen. You'd think that being the same person, they'd have more similarities, but each has such a distinct flavor. (that's not a spoiler- you can find out that they are one in the same by reading the book jacket.)

The ending of this book, however, was delicate and brilliant. Made it worth slogging through those parts where I wanted to give it up, but was too lazy to go find something else to read before going to sleep. ( )

This story is as powerful and mesmerizing a tale as I have yet to read by this marvelous author. Here we have the story of an aging priest who reflects back on a life ministering to Ojibwe Indians on an isolated reservation. The story spans the better part of the 20th century, and is true to the times without being focused on history as much as character. The priest's astonishing secret of a double life, coupled with the fascinating characters who people his tale, and the haunting, lyrical style of Erdrich’s spot-on magical realism result in an outstanding work of literary fiction. ( )

From Booklist
It's high time to acknowledge that Erdrich's ongoing sequence of novels about Native American life on an Ojibwe reservation in North Dakota over the last century stands at the pinnacle of recent American fiction. Her latest exploration of the interlocking lives of several generations of characters from her fictional reservation works beautifully as a reprise of all that has come before: the action, centered on the life of a priest who served the reservation for nearly a century, jumps back and forth in time, offering a chance for various figures from the principal families in Erdrich's world--Nanapush, Kashpaw, Pillager, Morrisey--to cross the stage once more, viewing life, as always, with passion, poetry, and a self-sustaining sense of the absurd. This time, though, all of that is glimpsed through a new and compelling filter: Father Damien, who is, in fact, Agnes De Witt, the common-law wife of a murdered German farmer, who through a typically absurd sequence of events, finds her mission in life by impersonating a dead priest. As Father Damien, in his (her) 90s and nearing death, attempts to explain to a younger priest why Sister Leopolda should not be made a saint, we experience the history of the reservation from the unique point of view of an outsider who gradually, under the tutelage of the wise and hysterically funny Nanapush, throws in her spiritual lot with the Ojibwe. (Erdrich, always a master of the set piece, outdoes herself here with the tall tale of Nanapush's encounter with a frightened moose, perhaps the most wonderfully comic sequence in the author's entire oeuvre.) This is Erdrich writing at the peak of her powers, embracing both the earthy sensuality and abiding spirituality of her characters and energizing the whole with a raucous humor that is at once self-deprecating and life-enhancing. --Bill Ott