Our book club has read two Louise Erdrich books previously, The Night Watchman, which has elements of the author’s grandfather and his struggle to have the Federal government recognize his Tribe; and La Rose, which is the third in the “Justice” trilogy.
The Round House is the second in the “Justice” trilogy, which means I am reading them backwards. I have yet to read the first one, The Plague of Doves. This is the latest book I am discussing online with a pair of friends, one of which had to read this book for a literature class, and wanted to re-read it without the deadlines.
So far, the trilogy has dealt with some rather horrific circumstances - the accidental shooting of a child in La Rose, and a rape and attempted murder in The Round House. (There is also, most likely, a murder connected to this, but it is peripheral to the main story.)
In both books, Erdrich examines the problem of justice - what it is, who receives it, who is denied it, and whether “justice” is even possible. Furthermore, she examines the morality of justice through the lens, not of white American institutions, but through Native American traditions.
At the risk of spoiling too much, here is the basic idea in this book. Thirteen-year-old Joe, in the throes of a very horny puberty, has his world shattered when his mother is raped, doused in gasoline, and only spared because of a defective match. She becomes nearly catatonic, refusing to come out of her room, or even talk about the event.
While Joe’s dad, a tribal judge, works with the system to try to solve the case, Joe and his friends start their own investigation. After a red herring regarding the local priest (who turns out to be a delightfully complicated and nuanced character - a disabled war veteran with serious trauma, who is both unlikeable and yet sympathetic) the boys discover some important clues. And Joe finds $40,000 in cash.
The problems with the case are sadly commonplace: since it isn’t clear where exactly the rape took place, proving jurisdiction turns out to be difficult. And, since the perpetrator is a white man and the victims Native women, there isn’t exactly a lot of interest in prosecution.
The question of injustice is one that needs to be continuously raised until our nation commits itself to change.
The other question that Erdrich raises is exactly why we white Americans think that our version of justice is the only moral one. The Native principle of family retribution (or, in this case, a solid claim of defense of self and others) is not a new one, or limited to the Americas. One can find it described in the Hebrew Scriptures, and ancient writings from around the world.
From my admittedly white and American perspective, I tend to agree with Steven Pinker that overall, the monopoly on violence being vested in the State has led to a decline in violence. It heads off the cycle of retribution and violence that has plagued societies for milennia - which is the reason it was established.
But Erdrich makes the point in this story that, where State justice is denied, sometimes the only option is to fall back on the old ways. (Whether you agree with that or not, ask yourself what you would do in such a situation.)
Along the way, Erdrich explores the complexities of white supremacy where it intersects with life on the reservation. There are mixed-race marriages, and all that entails. There are white merchants cheating their Native customers. There is the low-level violence and harrassment directed at Native women. There is the Indian Child Welfare Act, which serves as an imperfect bulwark against systematic removal of Native children from their homes to be raised by white people.
And, at the core of the backstory, there is a white infant, who was saved from infanticide by neglect because a Native family agreed to adopt her. This reverberates down the generations, and is a significant factor in the reasons behind the crimes.
Oh, and before I forget, Star Trek: The Next Generation is a huge part of the book, from the titles of the chapters to the moral dilemmas faced by the characters. I probably didn’t get all the references, but the ones I got were significant throughout.
Before I get into my favorite lines, I wanted to point out the statistics that Erdrich quotes (and documents) in the Afterward. Native women are far more likely to be raped during their lifetime than white women. One in three reports having been raped, which is very likely low. They are underreported in part because 86 percent of rapes of Native women are perpetrated by non-Native (meaning mostly white) men. These rapes and even murders are rarely fully investigated, and, if they occur on the reservation, cannot be prosecuted in the Tribal courts, but have to go through Federal courts already overburdened.
With that, let me share some lines from the book. During the initial treatment and investigation stage, the questions were asked about where the crime took place.
I already knew, in a rudimentary way, that these questions would swirl around the facts. I already knew, too, that these questions would not change the facts. But they would inevitably change the way we sought justice.
As with the other Erdrich books I have read, the heavy topics are balanced by a lot of humor. She manages to see the amusing parts of life even amidst injustice and oppression. One example of this is Joe’s commentary on a friend’s family.
Zack was almost a decade older than his baby brother and sister, because his parents had married young, divorced, then given it a second try and found out they were right the first time they divorced.
I’ve had a few of those sorts of cases.
Another hilarious scene is where a few of the adults are in the sweat lodge, and Joe and friends are helping pass hot rocks and stuff. It goes wrong when a certain powder labled “medicine” is put on the rocks - and turns out instead to be “Special Pueblo Hot Pepper.”
I noted above that Erdrich explores the intersection of white supremacy and Native experience. This particular passage is particularly perceptive.
I do know that the mother had a way of inciting emotional violence. Other people absorbed her anger. She was a frail-looking little old white lady. But her sense of entitlement was compelling. She was venomous.
I know people like that. Heck, I’m related to people like that. That venom and sense of entitlement.
Also familiar was the mention of Commodity Cheese. If you know, you know. The stuff did make legit grilled cheese sandwiches, as the book points out.
Another funny passage is on the way that Joe’s dad can talk about the weather endlessly - even speculation about the weather in the afterlife.
There are some passages in the book where the ancient grandfather, Mooshum, talks in his sleep, telling legends. These are the inspiration for Joe’s actions at the end of the book, and also involve the problems of justice and puzzles with no right answer. I want to mention, though, one line that really struck me personally.
When he was told to kill his mother, said Nanapush, a great rift opened in his heart. There was a crack so dep it went down forever. On the before side his love for his father, and the belief in all that his father did, lay crumpled and discarded. And not only that one belief, but others as well.
For different reasons, I have had the same experience. That loss of faith caused by an unforgivable breach of trust.
As a lawyer, I greatly appreciated how the book gets the law and the courtroom right. Erdrich drew on her family, friends, and experts in researching the book, and the work shows. Particularly inspirational is Joe’s dad explaining why he continues to work hard as a judge.
These are the decisions that I and many other tribal judges try to make. Solid decisions with no scattershot opinions attached. Everything we do, no matter how trivial, must be crafted keenly. We are trying to build a solid base here for our sovereignty. We try to press against the boundaries of what we are allowed, walk a step past the edge. Our records will be scrutinized by Congress one day and decisions on whether to enlarged our jurisdiction will be made. Some day.
This is truly the way all of us who seek justice in small matters wish to be.
I’ll end with one final humorous bit. During a big Tribal event, the guys sit around and shoot bull. One story about a guy who is a bit of a ne’er-do-well who had some medicine rubbed in his eyes that made it so he couldn’t shoot straight. And thus, “He would have to become a sheriff.”
That’s gold right there. (I won’t name names, but I know stories…)
The Round House is a fascinating book, and one worth thinking about. Nothing is ever simple or black and white in Erdrich’s books - other than the naked fact of injustice toward Native people, which is hardly up for dispute at this point. The characters are always complicated and the relationships entangled in ways that defy untangling.
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