It is often sobering to recall that the lines on the maps marking what we now think of the USA are all fairly recent, and that only about 160 years ago large swathes of what we now call California and Arizona (and Texas) were part of the northern regions of Mexico. All this changed in the mid-1800s, with myth-making at the Alamo and redrawing of lines on maps to shift ‘ownership’ of these tracts of land to the still developing and settling into its new spaces USA as it made and claimed those spaces and places. As is the norm with any colonial state of the kind that is the USA, this making and claiming of place and space happened with no regard for the views, interests and experiences of those indigenous to those regions.
Tanya Landman’s engaging young adult novel about a young woman Apache warrior is set against this background, of the colonial tensions with Mexico, of the arrival of US Army and Anglo settlers, of the tendency for those Anglos to bring in Mexican labourers – but this is all background, appearing in the narrative when needed but not determining it. This is a story set in and against a world defined and managed, as much as possible, by Apache; by bands whose ancestors had occupied the place since time immemorial, whose complex and sophisticated family and marriage networks wove together descent lines into a single and diverse group, even when parents disapproved of those marriages.
It is also a story set against treachery, where Siki, the young woman at the centre of the story has been orphaned and left to care for her younger brother who is then some time later killed along with many others when their settlement is attacked by soldiers from a Mexican town that had invited them to settle for trade: Siki is one of the few to survive that raid. She vows revenge and trains as a warrior, where her skills earn support of powerful leaders and the enmity of ambitious young men who she seems to outshine. There are raids to avenge the initial killings, to rescue kidnapped women and children from gold mines, to resist the incursions of the US Army, to ‘recover’ recalcitrant (rogue) band members. There are also parties of warriors who travel out to hunt and to visit other bands for discussions and planning of ways to protect their life worlds.
Landman writes with great empathy for a world far removed from hers, but the 16 item bibliography tells me she has worked effectively to present not only a (fictionally) realist set of circumstances, but one also grounded in anthropological, historical and indigenous oral evidence. She has, it seems, been successful in constructing an accurate and realist fictional world: given the romanticisation, exoticisation and denigration of the life worlds of indigenous Americans in fiction this is a fine achievement.
Equally, and probably more importantly, in Siki she has built a fabulous character, who is disciplined, who struggles with accepting praise, not because she is a woman warrior but because she is a novice. She has integrity but struggles with the obligations she is under, misreads relationships, is never quite sure when to stay quiet until it is too late and makes her own way. Siki has to wrestle with the problem of being an orphan and having no close blood kin in the band, of the problem of her young women and men peers who gather (rather than hunt/work as warriors) being unsure of how to relate to her, of struggling with how to express her views to her young ‘sisters’ who are making foolish romantic decisions. Amid all of this Landman seems to avoid the trap of anachronism in part by inventing Apache bands that did not exist, Anglo and Mexican settlements that are fictitious and engaging with a ‘frontier’/invasion that is well-known and where the risks of critique and error in a politically sensitive area are great.
There is a bibliography – the book is fully enjoyable without it or without any previous knowledge. But please do take a look at the ‘note about the cover photo’. It is a photo I know as by Frank Albert Rinehart: this note tells me it is Hattie Tom (1886-1901), a Chiricahua Apache (of Geromimo’s people) and provides a brief sketch of her short life. All credit to Landman and the publishers for giving a name and story to what could otherwise have been another anonymous appropriation of an Apache woman in the interests of commerce.
On top of all this, it is a compelling story and even though we know the final outcome (for the Apache as a whole, and the rest of North America’s First Peoples) the first person narrative means we are drawn into Siki’s ways and outlooks, her uncertainties, trusts and doubts; in short, into her story. This comes with a highly recommended for young (and not so young) adult readers.