The Birchbark House

Omakayas is a young Native American girl who lives with her family on an island on Lake Superior. Though the story is set in the 1840s, contemporary readers will empathize with Omakayas' struggles with her siblings, her desire to be treated as a more mature girl rather than a child, and her thoughts about the purpose of her life. These strands weave together so that the mostly episodic plot has a nice cohesion. I think this book serves as a nice counterpoint to the Little House series, which is excellent in many ways but does tend to vilify the Native Americans that appear in that story.

I listened to the audiobook of this story, and found it enjoyable. I think listening to this book on audio was a particularly good decision for me, since there are many unfamiliar words and names that I would have stumbled over if I were just reading. ( )

This is a lovely book to keep in mind for readers and needs of all sorts- for elementary students needing to do book reports, for fans of historical fiction, for parents looking for family read-alouds. Erdrich doesn't shy away from the occasional very difficult parts of life, and does show the devastating effect that new diseases had on the Ojibwe, but she also shows a strong, supportive family. The end of the book includes a glossary for the Ojibwe words used throughout. ( )

I originally read The Birchbark House - Anishinaabe (Ojibwa) author Louise Erdrich's first foray into the world of children's fiction - when it was just published in 1999, but had been meaning to reread it for some time, in order to move on to the sequels (The Game of Silence and The Porcupine Year), when it was chosen as our September selection over in the Children's Fiction Club to which I belong. How glad I am that it was, as I enjoyed this reading just as much as the first!

The story of Omakayas (meaning "little frog"), a young Ojibwa girl growing up on an island in Lake Superior during the nineteenth century, it feels utterly authentic, offering a convincing portrait of Ojibwa life at that time and place. The central importance of food gathering, in the lives of Omakayas and her family, the seasonal move between their house in the settlement (used during winter) and their birchbark house (in summer), the growing pressure of incoming white settlers, forcing the Ojibwa ever further west, are all apparent. So too, tragically, is another consequence of white encroachment: the spread of disease to native populations, whose lack of immunity proved so disastrous. This last theme is particularly important, both in setting up Omakayas' story, and in providing one of the central challenges she faces: how to cope with the terrible loss of a loved one.

The Birchbark House isn't just a convincing work of historical fiction, however, but an engaging tale of a girl whose feelings and experiences - though tied in to specific time, place and culture - can be appreciated by readers of all kinds. Any child with a sibling will empathize with Omakayas' frustration with her younger brother, Pinch, or her simultaneous admiration and resentment of her beautiful older sister, Angeline. Similarly, many readers will identify with her searching after meaning and purpose, which eventually leads her - via some very satisfying scenes with some bears - to the realization that she is called to be a healer.

Erdrich's prose draws me in, as do her lovely illustrations (I hadn't even realized, before reading this, that she was an artist, as well as an author!), and the complete experience of The Birchbark House is one of intellectual engagement and emotional satisfaction. I loved the characters, both human and animal (particularly Omakayas' crow, Andeg), and found the story immensely involving. The conclusion, in which Omakayas finds some resolution of her grief, was very moving. Highly recommended, to young readers who enjoy historical fiction, or to Erdrich fans in general. ( )

I enjoyed this book very much. The explorations of the Ojibwa culture were interesting and absorbing. The smallpox was so hard to read about. (Is that a spoiler? Maybe.) The nearness to the bone of their lives cheek by jowl with their insistence that the soul of the people is made of laughter was incredibly poignant. More than once I thought, 'yeah, well, take THAT, Laura Ingalls' but no doubt that's only mean-spiritedness on my part. I did love Laura, but I think I'd rather have had Omakayas to grow up with.

I found an Ojibwa word in this book that I love with all my heart: manidominenz (mah-nih-DOH-min-eynz), which means tiny beads- but literally means "little spirit seeds". If I ever open a bead store, that's the name of it.

The illustrations were the weakest link, I thought. Again, I found myself thinking of Laura Ingalls and those wonderful Garth Williams illustrations- which added so much to my enjoyment of Laura's opposite side of this tale. ( )

I think this book is perfect to help my nieces value the earth and learn about the Native American way of life which teaches so much respect for everyone and everything around us. ( )