Amazon.com Review
There are countless reasons why families fall apart. Fratricide, the tragic incident at the center of David Treuer's second novel,
The Hiawatha, is surely one of the most agonizing. "A good job, close friends, quiet nights"--all this and more seem to beckon to Ojibwe matriarch Betty in 1961 when she uproots herself and her four children from their upstate reservation and moves the family to the inner-city promise of Minneapolis. Only when her younger son is killed by his own brother are Betty's long-decaying dreams of a better life finally extinguished, exposing not only the dark side of pursuing the American Dream, but the convoluted trails of love.
Simon, Betty's oldest child, seems doomed to misfortune, frustration, and resentment. After witnessing his father's accidental death, he feels obligated to act as family savior and protector, especially once they move to the city. His best intentions aren't enough, however, and the family eventually unravels, their devastation complete after Simon's almost inexplicable, alcohol-fueled murder of his brother. Much of the novel traces the aftermath, as Simon and Betty attempt a delicate healing, their lives muddled with both affection and remorse.
Treuer is at his best when penetrating the silent emotions of confused souls and the failed promises of human hearts. And although his observations tend to be cynical and overly broad, somewhat falsely self-assured, his knowledge of the worlds of both city and reservation is remarkably precise. In a book that can be unnecessarily gruff, Treuer exposes plainly not only the persistence of tragedy, but also the tenacity of family love. --Ben Guterson
--This text refers to an out of print or unavailable edition of this title.
From Publishers Weekly
Life delivers a relentless series of devastating blows to three generations of a Native American family in this heartbreaking and harrowing second novel by the author of the praised Little. The story opens when Simon is released from prison, after serving a 10-year sentence for killing his brother Lester in a drunken rage. Simon comes home to South Minneapolis to see his mother, Betty, whose grief and isolation are compounded by bitter memories of her first disastrous loss, her woodsman husband's death in a tree-felling accident. Married at 16, Betty is still in her 20s when Jacob dies, left with four children to support. Simon, who witnessed his father's gruesome death, prematurely becomes the man of the house, getting construction work high above the city. The narrative crosscuts feverishly back and forth in time, each piece of painful family history emerging to clarify previously murky allusions. Treuer gingerly explores Lester's romance with Vera, a white girl, as they find a haven of intimacy in an abandoned wreck of an old train. At Lester's death Vera is pregnant, and she eventually leaves her infant son, Lincoln, with Betty. The uneasy reunion of Lincoln (who is unaware that his uncle killed his father), Betty and the guilt-ridden Simon is edged with fear and suspicion, but by the end of the novel, this turmoil mutates into a ravaging new cycle of despair and destruction. Treuer's powerful, disturbing portrait of one Ojibwe family's struggle with poverty, violence and racism is conveyed in terse prose of driving urgency. Their bleak circumstances render Betty catatonically docile and Simon prey to hair-trigger episodes of violence; neither can cope with the odds of life stacked against them. An assortment of supporting characters are memorable and lighten the protagonists' tragic load. Bluntly effective dialogue lays bare the tough heart of Treuer's brutally compelling saga. Author tour.
Copyright 1999 Reed Business Information, Inc.
--This text refers to an out of print or unavailable edition of this title.
