Mari Sandoz (1896–1966)

I picked this book up in the NPS bookstore at the Badlands National Park visitor center, which had (as of 2023) a relatively small but very well curated selection. When I bought the book I expected it to be a biography but it is actually a lot closer to what we would today describe as historical fiction. That is not, of course, to denigrate it in any way; like the best historical fiction it is deeply and thoroughly researched but adds to the research a level of wisdom and insight that allows show more an author to inhabit the story and create plausible connective tissue to fill in the gaps and bridge the inconsistencies in historical accounts. I mention this because I agree with other reviewers who have mentioned that if this book was published today it would probably garner a much broader audience. It isn't just that Sandoz unapologetically takes the side of Native Americans that ensured the book was largely ignored when it was first published. It is also her style, her willingness to fully commit to a style of storytelling that was outside of her time but is perhaps much closer to her own.

Of course, it was only outside of her time in terms of expectations of white readers. A fascinating perspective is provided by the foreword contributed by noted Native American activist and author, Vine Deloria Jr. He admits that he panned the book when it first came out; while finding it informative, he was resentful of the attempt by a white woman to tell the story from the Indian perspective and even to attempt to write in a way that mimicked--as he saw it then--in an "Indian" style. When he came back to it years later, after many years doing his own research, it was like reading a different book. In her depiction not just of major events but the day-to-day lives of Native Americans, she "captured nuances that only a few would know and understand," a fact he attributed not simply to her research, or the fact that she had grown up in close proximity to the Siioux, many of whom had been alive during these events (a reminder how relatively recent all this "history" is, especially when measured on the time scale of human settlement in the Americas) but her deep understanding of the region itself.

For that reason, anyone expecting a simple narrative of "good Indians and evil Whites" will be disappointed. Sandoz is extremely attentive to the infighting and politicking among the various tribes and factions. Some of this was historical and geographical and almost ritualistic in nature. But it was also the result of the very typical divide-and-conquer strategy of colonialist powers everywhere. The final couple of chapters that detail the cloud of lies and deceit that swirled around the encampments around Fort Robinson in the days before Crazy Horse's death as whites and various Indian factions maneuvered for advantage is captured in nuanced if depressing detail.

I've read a lot of books about the Plains Wars and I can't remember being as immersed and moved by one since William Vollman's The Dying Grass. If you have any interest in this period and place, this book is a must-have. As Deloria notes, it is a book for "the careful reader who savors the well-written word who can see in this book history as biography and biography as history." show less

Like any Sandoz book, clear, well-written, and lyric. A recounting of the battle between George Armstrong Custer's small scouting force, and the summer gathering of most of the Plains tribes in existence at the time.

Sandoz, who knew many of the Native American veterans of this battle when she was a child, gives us a clear-eyed view of the many phases of this battle; with insight into both the white and the Indian strategy, thinking, errors, and interpretations. She is remarkably even-handed, show more with credit given for courage and honor wherever it is due. Her summary chapters are especially interesting, as she walks a fair line between the Custer idolaters (who blamed everything on Reno's drinking habits) and the Johnny-Come-Lately naysayers (who blamed everything on everybody in sight, based on "eyewitness" testimony from people who weren't present at the time).

For clarity, fairness, and unique perspective - highly recommended. show less

I have never gotten past my fascination with cowboys and Indians. Well, actually, I have never gotten past my fascination with Native Americans. The cowboys I can do without, especially after reading another of Mari Sandoz’ books on the plains Indians. Maybe it’s a love for the underdog; maybe it’s just a desire for justice. Cheyenne Autumn is a book about a desperate people crushed under the wheels of the nobly named policy of Manifest Destiny. Unfortunately, that doctrine was not show more noble at all, but an excuse to seize land and property with little regard for treaties, laws, or propriety, and to essentially commit genocide. The author’s sympathetic treatment of the Cheyenne humanizes what is treated dryly in our school history books, brushing over the details.

The Northern Cheyenne were sent south to Indian Territory from their ancestral hunting grounds along the Powder and Yellowstone rivers in Montana, Wyoming, and the Dakotas. They were sent there with the promise that they could return if the didn’t like it there. Of course this promise was not written down anywhere. But the Cheyenne didn’t rely on writing for things like that, they relied on a man’s word. And guess what? They didn’t like it there. So after they had enough of being sickened and starved in Oklahoma, 278 men, women, and children fled north with their chiefs Little Wolf and Dull Knife. Between them and their homeland were rivers, railroads, ranchers and homesteads, the army, and winter. Amazingly, the two leaders managed to get their people North of the Platte into Kansas dispite the army’s best efforts. There they split and went to their separate fates. Sandoz does a great job of bringing their heroic journey to life without glossing over the injustice done to this noble people. This story needs to be read and known to put the U.S. settlement of the west in perspective and so that the people crushed by that settlement are not forgotten. show less

After her own niece, a young school teacher, and some of her pupils were lost and found in a harsh blizzard in 1949, Mari Sandoz wrote the novella Winter Thunder to describe a similar event. A twenty-three year old teacher along with the sixteen year old bus driver and a small group of children are stranded after a sudden storm wipes out any trace of the road. Eventually the bus tips over, catches fire and they are stranded in open country, miles from any ranch house. This small group must show more find some kind of shelter in order to wait out the blizzard. Showing great resourcefulness and courage they manage to cling to each other and to life for a number of days until rescue comes.

The author makes no effort to soften this story. These winter storms that could and often did hit suddenly were deadly to be stranded in. This young teacher had to deal with food shortages, sickness among the children, a young man, the bus driver, who thought he should try and strike out across the country on his own, and at least one case of extreme frostbite. So much responsibility was on her young shoulders and I do believe the author meant this to be tribute to her niece.

I applaud the fact that this very short story was named one of the ten best American Short Novels by Reader’s Digest and although this is far from a thriller, the author quietly draws the reader into this survival story and I found Winter Thunder to be a compelling tale. show less