From Library Journal
In Glancy's third novel (following Pushing the Bear, LJ 7/96), we meet Flutie Moses, a Native American girl growing up in Western Oklahoma who, in a reflection of the frustration around her, is so shy that she cannot speak. Her father and her brother, Franklin, operate a dead-end business. Both Franklin and their mother spend time in jail. In her adolescent years, Flutie turns to drugs and alcohol to escape both her family's turmoil and poverty and her visions of deer and spirit women. Through a library book, Flutie finds strength from the tale of Philomela, whose tongue is cut out by her sister's husband so that she cannot tell he raped her. Flutie eventually gains control of the power of speech and of her own life, graduating from high school and going on to college. Glancy's conservative prose spins a story of great emotional honesty and power. Highly recommended for all collections.?Carolyn Ellis Gonzalez, Univ. of Texas at San Antonio Lib.
Copyright 1998 Reed Business Information, Inc.
With lyrical precision, poet and novelist Glancy limns the life of a girl who lives in a dusty Oklahoma backwater, where the time is now but could be almost any decade this century. Flutie goes from 13 to 20 in these pages, struggling with her own fierce silence. She wants to hear the stories of her father's Cherokee and her mother's German past; she sees the physical stories her angry brother Franklin can only tell with his body and his devotion to cars; she feels that every stone in her arid landscape has a tale to tell. But Flutie's throat fills with saltwater--or hot lava--when she tries to speak in class or in front of anyone she's not close to. Her mother and father, her old neighbors Luther and Ruther, her brother and his two wives, and the boy who loves her are each drawn like boulders lit by lightning, all angles and deep shadows. Flutie begins to find her own words in the same fits and starts that she begins to attend college, studying geology: the rocks and their spirits. This quite beautiful novel proves unexpectedly moving in the ways Glancy finds to write the sounds of silence.
GraceAnne A. DeCandido