Daniel Heath Justice

What a wonderfully diverse, beautifully inclusive collection Sovereign Erotics: A Collection of Two-spirit Literature is! I was fortunate enough to have the chance to review an advance copy of the book, and it provided me with countless hours of both entertainment and thoughtful reflection. I had hoped to get a review posted before it hit stores, to help generate some advance buzz, but I just couldn't force myself to rush through it. There's such a wide range of authors, styles, and content show more here, with so many new ideas and histories, that I found myself rereading sections of it over and over again.

The book starts with a definition/discussion of the term two-spirit, which could encompass book all on its own. I won't get into semantics here, so I will just settle for the blanket explanation that this is a collection by, for, and about Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual, Transgender, Queer, and Two-Spirit members of the Native American community. There's a passage in the introduction that I realise only tells part of the story, but which I found particularly interesting:

For other Native people, terms like 'lesbian' and 'queer' are seen as part of dominant Euro-American constructions of sexuality that have little to do with the more complicated gender systems in many Native traditions.

What follows is, as I said, a collection of material as diverse in content and form as it is in terms of sexuality ad gender. Deborah Miranda's Coyote Takes a Trip is one of my favourite pieces, contrasting a young man's accidental and joyous discovery of his heritage on a Venice Beach bus ride with historical quotes from 18th century missionaries regarding their horrific discovery of that same heritage. Louis Emse Cruz's Birth Song for Muin, in Red is another one that struck me, particularly the repeated theme of a "young girl in boy skin."

As much as I'm drawn to the more straightforward narratives, pieces like William Raymond Taylor's Something Wants to Be Said, a poem that manages to evoke more emotion in a single page than most novels, and Qwo-Li Driskill's (Auto)biography of Mad, a back-of-the-book style subject index of his life, complete with page numbers and other references, absolutely demanded my full attention. At the same time, Dan Taulapapa McMull's wonderful poem, A Drag Queen Named Pipi, packs more wonder and beauty into its 5 syllable lines than should be possible.

Ander's Awakening, by Daniel Heath Justice, is the longest piece in the collection and one that I had to read twice - once for the story, and again for the language. Young Ander views sees himself in dreams of an all-consuming spiritual fire that will change everything. The moment when he is gifted with his new name, Denarra Syrene, is one of the most beautiful passages I have ever read:

Ander felt a hot tremor pulse through his body, a rush of recognition as true and certain as the view in the looking glass. "Yes," he whispered, "That's my name. That's who I am."

An absolutely fascinating read, regardless of your race, ethnicity, sexuality, or gender, this is a book I am simply overjoyed I had the opportunity to explore. show less

A very cool overview on some of the major thematic concerns in many works of Indigenous literature (without trying to be too generic or stereotypical). The work is centred around four main questions about human existence, so the analysis tends to be both literary and philosophical. Daniel Heath Justice includes a lot of excerpts from lesser known texts in his analysis, so let’s just say my TBR has grown exponentially after reading this >:)

The stuff where Heath Justice pulls out the web of badger connections in culture, literature, our ideas about the creatures and how we interact with and use them is great. The stuff where he reminds us how by volume what we really do is, essentially, kill them is of course important, and we must look at it full on. The stuff where he tells us about the species of badgers and their characteristics feels a bit Wikipedia but interesting and told in an engaging manner and this was a good book.

A really great collection with a really thoughtful introduction. I hadn't read much from most of these authors before, and reading them here definitely has made me want to read more--especially the work of Maurice Kenney and Qwo-Li Driskill, as well as Craig Womack's novel in full. There's just really beautiful, and sometimes like deeply sexy work in here, and I'm so grateful to have read all of it.