On the dust jacket of the first edition of Windsinger, published in 1930 by Minton, Balch & Company of New York, Frances Gillmor is quoted as "I have spent considerable time on the Navajo reservation, far from railways and travelled roads. There I have been able to see much of the life of the Navajo hogans. I have travelled horseback at the foot of Black Mesa, where in my story Windsinger lives, I have seen sand painting in the making, a very rare privilege for a white person, and something which women, either white or Navajo, are seldom allowed to do. I have been to chants and Entahs where I have been the only white person present, and where in the strange dramatic serenity of the firelit ceremonies of song, I could easily forget that I myself was not a Navajo."
This book has been on my shelf for many years, and for some reason I hadn't read it. My loss. Written by a Caucasian author, steeped in the Navajo culture, it is a simple but lovely handling of that culture in a novel about the stages of life, and the way ones experiences through each stage influences the next.
Gillmor's writing is so descriptive one has no trouble imagining oneself in the desert landscape, experiencing the weather changes, and participating in the lives of the Navajo residents of the Arizona/New Mexico desert reservations. Her prose invokes the language of the people about whom she writes. Her empathy draws you into their lives.