I’m currently working on three - no, make that four - books simultaneously:  three from my current reading list, and one lent to me by a friend.  This means, of course, that I’ve thus far finished none of them.  Of course, it helps if one remembers to take the books when one is heading out of town for a week at a time, but I digress.

I started The Echo Maker in part to see how (if at all) Powers handled the Shinob references.  Unfortunately, over the last few weeks I’ve been on a nonfiction bender, so I haven’t gotten very far.  Based on what I’ve read thus far, though, I think the Shinob allusion of the title is going to be used solely as a metaphorical device, sans native context, to further the major plot line.  Oh, well; I suppose I should be glad that such references are finally entering the mainstream fictional consciousness.

I’ve been more engaged lately with Michael Blake’s Indian Yell:  The Heart of an American Insurgency.  Don’t mistake "engaged with" for "endorsement of," however.  Blake’s writing is fraught with problems.  I’ll post a full review when I’ve finished it, but for now, a few preliminary thoughts:

First, I wish I could find the review that initially sparked my interest, because it’s abundantly clear to me now that the reviewer never read the book.   I’m not talking about the usual sloppiness, but a case of, quite literally, not having read it.  The reviewer portrayed the book (favorably, I might add) as juxtaposing 19th-Century Native Americans’ attempts to stave off the white invasion (the "insurgency" of the title) with the current insurgency that American troops are battling in Iraq.  Unfortunately for our intrepid reviewer, the book contains zip about Iraq.  It’s strictly a series of summaries of various native "insurgencies" during the so-called "Indian Wars" of the 1800s.  In other words, he looked at the title, saw the word "insurgency," strung together a couple of assumptions, jumped to a quick conclusion, and wrote his "review."

Second, the author:  To say that Michael Blake is full of himself is like saying Bush thinks he can do whatever he wants - well, duh.  As his author’s note makes clear, he sees himself as a "real" investigative journalist, unlike the rest of the riffraff.  He also clearly has literary aspirations for what he touts as reporting - with the result that sometimes his narrative is as clear as the proverbial mud.  From a reader-reviewer at Amazon.com:

For example, in "Deceit," the chapter is supposed to provide illumination on how the Apaches were lied to and the fall of Cochise. Instead, sentences like "A new general, known equally for self-promotion and effectiveness, was installed to oversee a mammoth military commitment" leave the reader wondering what is happening. Which general? Does his name live in the history books? Should I know him? Could it be Custer? His name is never mentioned.

Um, no, it couldn’t be Custer (wrong time and place).  But Blake is playing hide-the-ball:  "What?  You don’t recognize the general from my description?  Your grasp of history is obviously defective, so why should I share my special information with you?"

Blake also clearly thinks that the mainstream success of Dances With Wolves establishes him as an official Friend of the Indian.  Leave aside, for the moment, Native Americans’ numerous and legitimate criticisms of DWW (and leave aside the laughability of DWW’s author being someone who "gets" Native America).  One Native American friend of mine looked at the cover and snorted at the title.  Indian Yell?!  His cynicism turns out to be well-founded:  Phrases like "free-living" abound.  Memo to Blake:  Being anti-U.S. military ≠ "getting Indian-ness."  Of course, the fact that the jacket blurbs led with, and I quote, "LEONARD PELTIER, noted artist, and author of Prison Writings," should have warned me.  I’ll explore that dynamic in detail when I post a full review.

Yeah, I’m gonna finish it.  Some of the historical tidbits are worth reading, although I feel like I’m going to have to verify each one independently.

While I was in Taos this week, I also picked up the third book on my list, Jonathan Lear’s Radical Hope:  Ethics in the Face of Cultural Devastation.  I was intrigued in part by Lisa’s comment to the effect that Lear’s is "the language of the philosopher," although she characterized it as "personally revelatory."  Lisa, that’s waving the red flag in front of the proverbial bull.  (Phil minor in college; what can I say?)  I’ve just begun it, but I’m already reasonably sure that I’m going to find it more useful than Blake’s.

Finally, my bedtime reading consists of a non-native book - lent to me, ironically, by a Native American friend:  Refuge, by Terry Tempest Williams.  It came with a glowing recommendation; he describes it as "peaceful."  Looking over the synopsis, I rather doubt, considering events in my life in recent months, that I’ll find it "peaceful" - rather, I think I’m going to find it damn difficult.  But that’s not the book’s fault.  And since this is someone whose opinion I respect utterly, I think maybe it’s not so much that it’s a book I should want to read as perhaps one that I need to read right now.  He has an uncanny ability to bring me exactly what I need before I even know I need anything at all, so maybe this is another example.

Watch this space for reviews of all four over the next two weeks.