HomeGroupsTalkZeitgeist
Hide this

Results from Google Books

Click on a thumbnail to go to Google Books.

Tracks by Louise Erdrich
Loading...

Tracks (edition 2004)

by Louise Erdrich

MembersReviewsPopularityAverage ratingMentions
1,435205,236 (3.84)57
Member:gabebaker
Title:Tracks
Authors:Louise Erdrich
Info:Harper Perennial (2004), Edition: First Edition first Printing, Paperback, 226 pages
Collections:Your library
Rating:****
Tags:Read in 2012, 1980s, *4

Work details

Tracks by Louise Erdrich

None.

Loading...

Sign up for LibraryThing to find out whether you'll like this book.

No current Talk conversations about this book.

» See also 57 mentions

Showing 1-5 of 20 (next | show all)
A book read for my Native American Literature class at my university in Oregon. I remember liking this book a lot. ( )
  Gregorio_Roth | Dec 5, 2014 |
A book read for my Native American Literature class at my university in Oregon. I remember liking this book a lot. ( )
  Gregorio_Roth | Dec 5, 2014 |
A tribe of chicken-scratch that can be scattered by a wind, diminished to ashes by one struck match.

You wouldn't make a Disney movie out of the Holocaust, would you? Then why does Pocahontas exist? I was only recently led to this argument by the Internet, and it is yet another of many that I wished I had come across much, much, much earlier.

This book has the whole 'magical realism' thing going on, like so many other pieces of work not written by white people, who have their fantasy, their postmodernism, their everything but. It is an overarching commentary on the laughable quality of superstition, myth, anything not adhering to the straight and narrow of physics, biology, science at large, but manages to never beg the question of institutional bias. We spend our lifetimes evaluating ourselves with pieces of paper, and scoff at those who cannot comprehend the simple art of bureaucracy.

New devils require new gods.

It is a matter of my childhood having been steeped in so much horseshit without a single living being to attest to the contrary. Girl Scout like Indian Maidens of my elementary years, dreamcatchers bought in dollar stores, a Wendigo as a particular stirring episode in a horror-themed television show without a hint of the word Algonquian, or Ojibwe, Saulteaux, Cree, Naskapi, Innu. Compromised as these words are by colonial tongue, you cannot grasp the privileged idiocy of indoctrination without the language that inherently exposes the lie; you cannot break your belief without reasoning why.

"You must think of their unyielding surfaces as helpful," he offered. "God sometimes enters the soul through the humblest parts of our anatomies, if they are sensitized to suffering."
"A god who enters through the rear door," I countered, "is no better than a thief."


A piece of paper declares, if you stray here and attempt to live, we have the right to kill you. A piece of paper insinuates, if your biology proves incompatible with our lifestyles, we are not required to heal you. A forest falls from ocean to ocean to provide for many pieces of paper, birthed by colonial mindset, maintained by conqueror's brainwashing, proven by death and destruction, famine and rape, rotting of the bone and rat race of the mind. To fight is to become a monster by strength of belief, to survive is to self-efface by poison of thought, to suffer is a given. If that is not magic, I don't know what is.

They were moving. It was as old Nanapush had said when we sat around the stove. As a young man, he had guided a buffalo expedition for whites. He said the animals understood what was happening, how they were dwindling. He said that when the smoke cleared and the hulks lay scattered everywhere, a day's worth of shooting for only the tongues and hides, the beasts that survived grew strange and unusual. They lost their minds. They bucked, screamed and stamped, tossed the carcasses and grazed on flesh. They tried their best to cripple one another, to fall or die. They tried suicide. They tried to do away with their young. They knew they were going, saw their end. He said while the whites all slept through the terrible night he kept watch, that the groaning never stopped, that the plains below him was alive, a sea turned against itself, and when the thunder came, then and only then, did the madness cease. He saw their spirits slip between the lightning sheets.
I saw the same. I saw the people I had wrapped, the influenza and consumption dead whose hands I had folded. They traveled, lame and bent, with chests darkened from the blood they coughed out of their lungs, filing forward and gathering, taking a different road. A new road. I saw them dragging one another in slings and litters. I saw their unborn children hanging limp or strapped to their backs, or pushed along in front hoping to get the best place when the great shining doors, beaten of air and gold, swung open on soundless oiled fretwork to admit them all.
Christ was there, of course, dressed in glowing white.
"What shall I do now?" I asked. "I've brought You so many souls!"
And He said to me, gently:
"Fetch more."


To live. ( )
  Korrick | Aug 29, 2014 |
i really don't like erdrich's writing. she's too cute or something. after reading something of her life, she's not a very competent person. ( )
  mahallett | Sep 28, 2013 |
Excellent place to start your Erdrich reading. Poignant portrayal of the harshness and indignities of life on the range for Native Americans at the turn of the 19th/20th century. Many characters return in later novels. A unique form of Magical Realism is invoked. Graphic scenes make it not for everyone. ( )
  mabroms | Sep 3, 2013 |
Showing 1-5 of 20 (next | show all)
no reviews | add a review
You must log in to edit Common Knowledge data.
For more help see the Common Knowledge help page.
Series (with order)
Canonical title
Information from the Italian Common Knowledge. Edit to localize it to your language.
Original title
Alternative titles
Original publication date
People/Characters
Important places
Information from the Dutch Common Knowledge. Edit to localize it to your language.
Important events
Related movies
Awards and honors
Epigraph
Dedication
First words
We started dying before the snow, and like the snow, we continued to fall.
Quotations
Last words
Disambiguation notice
Publisher's editors
Blurbers
Publisher series
Original language

References to this work on external resources.

Wikipedia in English (1)

Book description
Haiku summary

Amazon.com Product Description (ISBN 0060972459, Paperback)

Set in North Dakota at a time in the past century when Indian tribes were struggling to keep what little remained of their lands, Tracks is a tale of passion and deep unrest. Over the course of ten crucial years, as tribal land and trust between people erode ceaselessly, men and women are pushed to the brink of their endurance—yet their pride and humor prohibit surrender. The reader will experience shock and pleasure in encountering characters that are compelling and rich in their vigor, clarity, and indomitable vitality.

(retrieved from Amazon Mon, 30 Sep 2013 13:36:24 -0400)

(see all 4 descriptions)

Set in North Dakota at a time in this century when Indian tribes were struggling to keep what little remained of their lands, Tracks is a tale of passion and deep unrest. Over the course of ten crucial years, as tribal land and trust between people erode ceaselessly, men and women are pushed to the brink of their endurance--yet their pride and humor prohibit surrender. The reader will experience shock and pleasure in encountering a group of characters that are compelling and rich in their vigor, clarity, and indomitable vitality.… (more)

(summary from another edition)

» see all 2 descriptions

Quick Links

Swap Ebooks Audio
79 avail.
22 wanted
1 pay

Popular covers

Rating

Average: (3.84)
0.5 2
1 2
1.5 1
2 18
2.5 7
3 49
3.5 18
4 111
4.5 9
5 69

Is this you?

Become a LibraryThing Author.

 

Help/FAQs | About | Privacy/Terms | Blog | Contact | LibraryThing.com | APIs | WikiThing | Common Knowledge | Legacy Libraries | Early Reviewers | 94,329,152 books! | Top bar: Always visible