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526 pages, Kindle Edition
First published January 22, 2019
David Treuer: Burning Wooden Indians
Sunday, September 17, 2006
David Treuer is sick and tired of dancing with wolves, throwing tea in the bay, hiding in the cupboard or weeping a single tear at the sight of a littered highway. In conjunction with his new novel, the 35-year-old Ojibwe writer has published a provocative collection of essays that denounce the way Native Americans are imagined in this country. Ugly stereotypes that fed the genocidal campaigns of the 18th and 19th century are mostly a thing of the past. The problem nowadays, he claims, is the precious way that Indians are portrayed in even the most well-meaning books and movies.
"We function the way ghosts function in ghost stories," Treuer says from his home on the Leech Lake Reservation in Minnesota. "We sort of hover around to admonish people about what they should be doing, what they're doing wrong, how they're destroying nature. We're always there, but chained to our own deaths, not really alive and active and engaged."
-- Ron Charles ”© 2006 The Washington Post Company
But to be Indian and alive is no easy thing ... The "story of the Indian" has been a story about loss: loss of land, loss of culture, loss of a way of life. Yes, Indians remain...
for my mother, being Indian wasn't a condition to be cured or a past to be escaped and even improved upon. ... But to be Indian is not to be poor or to struggle. To believe in sovereignty ... to move through the world imbued with the dignity of that reality is to resolve one of the major contradictions of modern Indian life: it is to find a way to be Indian and modern simultaneously.
The American Indian Dream is as much about looking back and bringing the culture along with it as it is about looking ahead... We're using modernity in the best possible way: to work together and to heal what was broken.
The Indians knew that life was equated with the earth and its resources, that America was a paradise, and they could not comprehend why the intruders from the East were determined to destroy all that was Indian as well as America itself.
And if the readers of this book should ever chance to see the poverty, the hopelessness, and the squalor of a modern Indian reservation, they may find it possible to truly understand the reasons why.
The wagonloads of wounded Sioux (four men and forty-seven women and children) reached Pine Ridge after dark. Because all available barracks were filled with soldiers, they were left lying in the open wagons in the bitter cold while an inept Army officer searched for shelter. Finally the Episcopal mission was opened, the benches taken out, and hay scattered over the rough flooring.
It was the fourth day after Christmas in the Year of Our Lord 1890. When the first torn and bleeding bodies were carried into the candlelit church, those who were conscious could see Christmas greenery hanging from the open rafters. Across the chancel font above the pulpit was strung a crudely lettered banner: PEACE ON EARTH, GOOD WILL TO MEN.