Who was this book supposed to seduce? Here it is, the old battle cry of my childhood, the 70's of Berkeley, California, be liberal, be apologetic for the treatment of the native Americans by European immigrants, quite often themselves illiterate superstitious settlers. Against the prejudice of the white races against native Americans, "Sioux Indians came into my life before I had any preconceived notions about them," writes the author, promoting her vision of the nomad Indians she met in her childhood in the early 1900s on the plains of Nebraska, is a somewhat rosy telling of Sioux life. Her personal insights are fascinating, Sandoz' life is intriguing, and yet basically when it boils down to brass tacks, the life of the nomad Sioux before the constrictions of the reservations, was just that: a nomad life. It contained hunting, moving, marrying, children, raids, death etc. Should I be impressed, envious, horrified? It's difficult to choose. While I admired the identity of the Sioux nation, I was bothered by the lumping of people as one, women did this, men did that, these were the rules of the Sioux society so this is what people then thought, etc. Really what was I supposed to feel? Honesty, I am still horrified of the brutal imposition of Christianity, and the banning of traditional dances, and yet these days many native Americans are proud to call themselves Christian. And this is what I get out of this book: The trespassing of moral boundaries from the past still bears gaping wounds, waxing nostalgic is of no use even in the event that traditions are alive, and finally a healthy respect for individuals and their identities and beliefs is crucial. I am just not sure of this book's intentions. Patronizing, romanticizing, admiring, friendly, Indian expert and scholar....All the same it was an interesting encounter with an author of whom I had no previous knowledge.