Solar Storms

Soon after starting this book, I realized that I'd read it once before, soon after it was published. That said, there's a reason I'd allowed myself to forget it. While I can see how some readers might find this book a renewing story of celebrating life and embracing the natural world, for this reader, it's anything but.

The book is beautifully written, with striking images. Unfortunately, the vast majority of those images are centered either on endangered nature, brutality, or approaching death. The book presents a bleak view of nature and the human condition, though ironically, the main characters of the book are always moving beyond trauma, and rarely facing trauma. As a result, they seem to be too easily recovered, too easily moving show more forward, and the book as a whole comes across as simplifying issues which cannot (and should not, in my opinion) be simplified. It's true that the power of love, family, and heritage are presented as a vehicle toward recovery and knowing the natural world, but at the expense of the individual and realism, to the extent that it's far from believable.

Peace of mind or spirit isn't easy, and this book comes across as a rather didactic treatise on grief, mourning, and appreciation for life. As a result, while there's beauty in the language, this was one of the more depressing and false-feeling books I've read, and the images of animals dying and lost were often too much for me considering especially how easily the humans all managed to survive the natural world around them.

In the end, this book is one which certainly promotes a wide range of opinions, but it's not for me, and I can't recommend it. There's enough grief and sadness in the world without my reading a book which does little more than dictate that I should be aware of the natural world and move beyond grief.

Lastly, the book's tendancy to over-romanticize Native Americans and their appreciation for the land, unmatched by any around them, only surved to further separate this book from the reality it attempts to criticize. I appreciate and welcome literature with an ecological awareness, and literature that tries to work for the environment, but this book simplifies and over-idealizes the issues to the point that I don't know that it could do much for either awareness or understanding--anyone who comes to this book to learn about those issues already understands them at a deeper level than the book encourages. show less

Solar Storms' extraordinarily beautiful prose makes it a book to savour. It's a coming of age story set in remote Native American community (I don't believe the nation is ever named; Hogan herself is Chickasaw) near the border of Minnesota and Canada, where a young woman called Angel leaves behind the foster system in order to live with her great-grandmother Agnes, her great-great-grandmother Dora Rouge and her step-grandmother Bush. Hogan's writing is full of insight; admittedly, it can tend towards the didactic and the romanticized at points, but overall there is a sense of dignity and restraint here that's compelling. The ending is balanced beautifully between grief and hope. Highly recommended.

There was a lot to love about this book. Hogan's beautiful writing, the environmental ethic, the cast of strong female characters--just to name a few. I had some serious issues with momentum (or lack there of) that made the book less enjoyable to read, but I'd still recommend reading it.

Absolutely beautiful novel. Simultaneously devastating and uplifting, real and magical. I can’t believe it took me this long to read it. It blew me away!

I wouldn't say I enjoyed reading it, but I like the book. It's well-written and full of sadness.

This is a hard book for me to review. I found the first half so slow that I nearly stopped reading. But the second half only gets better and better!

This is the best and most powerfully written novel I have ever had the good fortune to read. Linda Hogan knows what language is for.