The Round House

Happy endings are expected in romance novels, and because this isn't one, prospective readers will need to adjust their definition of a happy ending. A very well-written account of the prevalence of rape culture and femicide on both Native American Reservations and across the Plains states. In addition, this one requires an immediate shift in perspective regarding when and where vigilante justice is not only morally acceptable but mandatory.

Joe's mother Geraldine is brutally attacked, leaving him and his father, a judge in Ojibwe tribal court, floundering. His mother draws into herself and cannot speak about the attack or tell them who hurt her. Joe is determined to bring the rapist to justice, and enlists the help of his friends in piecing together the mystery.

Based on that short description, I was fairly certain that I did not want to read this book, and was a little leery of reading it when it was voted onto my library's book discussion list for this year. So I will now go on record as saying not only should I not judge a book by its cover, but I should not judge a book by its blurb. Because the story is so much more than about a woman being raped. It's about a son's show more relationship with his parents, his friends, and his tribe. It's about tribal law and the complicated mess that it can be to figure out jurisdiction. It's also about justice. The characters - and there are many - came alive for me from Geraldine's sister Clemence trying to care for her elderly, cantankerous father Mooshum; to the sex-obsessed Grandma Ignatia; to the military man turned priest; and many, many more. The people and their relationships are complicated and true. I also was impressed with the way in which reservation life was described and what a fantastic job the author does of presenting people and situations warts-and-all without making sweeping judgments or political commentary. The storyline has many threads and I could easily revisiting this book to get even more out of it. show less

The round house of the story is a building on an Ojibwe reservation in North Dakota where people gather not only to socialize but also to dance and celebrate their sacred traditions. It is also the setting of a horrific crime in the summer of 1988.

Joe, the narrator, is a young adolescent at the time the crime occurs. He tells of how the crime shatters his sense of safety, and how, with the help of his friends, especially Cappy, he tries to discover the perpetrator of this crime in hopes of putting his family back together again.

But seeking justice is never simple. Land ownership is an issue, jurisdiction is an issue, and in the small world of the reservation and North Dakota old grudges are an issue. When Joe’s mother Geraldine show more finally talks about what happened, we discover that the roots of this crime run deep indeed. Joe and his father are angry. Geraldine is frightened and angry. And healing and justice are not the same thing.

I especially liked the slow pace of this story, as we become acquainted with Joe, his father, his friends and the network of family and relationships Joe is sustained by. I also liked the way in which Mooshum & his stories give Joe insight into how to proceed, as well as filling in the history of the round house and providing some much needed laughs.

This is a richly textured novel, and well worth the read. show less

This is one of the best books I've read, but it absolutely destroyed me, in part because it reminded me of a situation a friend of mine was going through. It is a coming-of-age story about a Native community in North Dakota. The main character's mother is violently raped, and enters a dark, deep depression. The boy and his father go on a quest to find his mother's attacker and bring her justice. It is a story about how White law enforcement and the White justice system interacts with the Native populations, and about what is life is like on a modern reservation.

The book made my cry multiple times, but it is so filled with love and growth that I could not put it down. Highly recommended, if you have the capacity for something that heavy.

It's 1988, and 13-year-old Joe's mother has barely escaped with her life after a brutal rape. If she knows who the perpetrator was, though, she is refusing to say, leaving Joe determined to learn the truth.

There are, I think, places where this novel feels more than a little resonant of the kind of mystery story where plucky kids investigate crimes, but it's a version of that sort of thing that's infinitely more adult, complex, dark, and sad.

It's also interesting to think about it in terms of discussions I've seen in recent years about stories that feature the rape of women, but focus not on the experiences of the women themselves, but on those of the men around them. Far too often, what happens in such cases is that the women become show more little more than props in a male character's story, there to provide something for them to be upset over and to motivate their actions. Which is ugly on multiple levels.

On the surface of it, I suppose you could characterize this as one such story, and maybe one could legitimately criticize it for that, but Erdrich's use of this particular narrative feels anything but cheap and misogynistic to me. This isn't really a story about a woman being sacrificed on the altar of some male hero's dramatic character development, so much as it is a larger story about various kinds of justice and injustice in the lives and the history of Native Americans, both men and women. And that, I think, it does in nuanced, thoughtful, and affecting ways. Also with a last line that left an achy feeling in my heart. show less

This excellent book is set in the same community as A Plague of Doves but takes place in the 20th century without all the time hopping of the first one. It combines a realistic story with Native American fables to show how they point out essential complexities. Most importantly this is a perfect time to read it because it underscores the need for the new provisions in the Violence Against Women Act that the Republicans object to - the necessity of allowing Native American courts to have jurisdiction over crimes committed against their citizens even if the perpetrator is not Native American. This is a very powerful, very well told story.

At the beginning of The Round House, Joe, a 13-year old Ojibwe youth, is working in the yard with his father and waiting for his mother to return from the tribal offices where she has gone to retrieve a file. When she reaches home, she has been hurt and (no spoiler here) it turns out she has been raped. she retreats into herself and Joe and his father (who is a tribal judge) believe it has something to do with one of the cases he has judged.

In the course of learning how Joe and his friends set out to unravel who was responsible, the author includes so much more. It's part coming-of-age and the mysterious ways and thoughts of 13-year old boys (including their obsession with girls and sex). There's also some history of the Native show more Americans and white treaties and how unfairly Native Americans were treated and how much was lost when they were forced onto reservations. And there's information on how difficult it is to get justice as the rules change depending on where the crime takes place and by whom. In book club yesterday, we also discussed how seldom you read about a stable marriage in books these days and how devoted Joe's parents were to each other.

I haven't read much by this author but have a few more of her books on my TBR and hope to get to them soon. There's just something about how she writes... show less