A Yellow Raft in Blue Water

by Michael Dorris

Michael Dorris has crafted a fierce saga of three generations of Indian women, beset by hardships and torn by angry secrets, yet inextricably joined by the bonds of kinship. Starting in the present day and moving backward, the novel is told in the voices of the three women: fifteen-year-old part-black Rayona; her American Indian mother, Christine, consumed by tenderness and resentment toward those she loves; and the fierce and mysterious Ida, mother and grandmother whose haunting secrets, betrayals, and dreams echo through the years, braiding together the strands of the shared past.

Genres: Fiction, Book Club, Native American, Classics, Literary Fiction, Historical Fiction, Novels

372 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 1987

About the author

Michael Dorris was a novelist, short story writer, nonfiction writer, and author of books for children

The first member of his family to attend college, Dorris graduated from Georgetown with honors in English and received his graduate degree in anthropology from Yale. Dorris worked as a professor of English and anthropology at Dartmouth College.

Dorris was part-Native American through the lineage of his paternal. He founded the Native American Studies department at Dartmouth in 1972 and chaired it until 1985.

In 1971, Dorris became the first unmarried man in the United States to adopt a child. His adopted son, Reynold Abel, was diagnosed with fetal alcohol syndrome and his condition became the subject of Dorris' The Broken Cord,(the pseudonym "Adam" is used for his son in the book).

In 1981, Dorris married aspiring writer Louise Erdrich. Throughout their relationship, Erdrich and Dorris edited and contributed to each other's writing.

In 1991, Dorris' adopted son, Reynold Abel, died after being hit by a car. In 1996, Louise Erdrich separated from Dorris. On April 10, 1997, Dorris committed suicide in Concord, New Hampshire.

Reviews

[Canadian Jen · Rating 5 out of 5]

There's something peaceful about envisioning a yellow raft in blue water... Can you picture it? Maybe a warm summer breeze with the heat beating down on you. Serenity. Calmness. Or the vision of that raft floating in all kinds of weather be it torrential winds, waves or the gentle lapping on a windless day. It's solid but prone to taking a beating. It may be chipped or falling apart, but its pieces remain intact, holding it together. A symbol for family, perhaps.

This is the story of Rayona, Christine and Ida. Three generations of Indian women whose lives are filled with hardship and abandonment. It's the weaving of their stories told from each of their pov's through the hypnotic writing of Dorris. How events that have happened to each of them, impact and define the other.

A wonderfully written story of love, as abstract as that can be at times, and the power it has to hold these broken women together. A 5★ read

[Candi · Rating 4 out of 5]

"You know, it's strange, you live in a place half your life and yet the sight of it from an unfamiliar angle can still surprise you, it was as though I had never before seen that building, so small and hollowed out against the treeless land."

This quote can be true about a home or a place often visited that we may cherish, or perhaps even abhor, when brought forth from our memories. I also think the same can be true about a person, or persons, that we find ourselves inextricably linked to in our lives. These are people, often family or close friends that we spend time with, maybe grow up living alongside, and believe we come to know and understand thoroughly. Yet, there is always another angle, another side to someone's story that may be hidden when viewed solely from our own perspective. In this lovely and contemplative novel by Michael Dorris, we learn about three generations of women, a daughter, a mother, and a grandmother. Each of these women has secrets, desires, and insecurities that are kept locked inside. Their relationships are complex, as is often the case with mothers and daughters.

We begin this story with the youngest, 15-year old Rayona's point of view. Rayona is a tenacious, bright, part-black, part-Native American young woman who struggles with her identity as well as her place in a broken home. She loves her mother, despite her late night partying and occasional disappearances, and is confused by her father's absence from the home. "My brain hums with half-told stories, with pieces that don't seem to fit anywhere, with things I should have said and didn't, and I can't tell the real from the could-be." When she moves with her mother back to the home of her grandmother on a Montana reservation, she will find that she still does not quite fit in with the other Native American teens residing there. In need of a friend and someone to really listen to her, she is a vulnerable young woman out of her element here. Two of my favorite characters in the book, Evelyn and Sky, were introduced in Rayona's story. They were perhaps unlikely heroes, which again goes to show that what we perceive on the outside does not necessarily reflect what lies just below the surface.

Christine's story was equally absorbing, but also perhaps the most frustrating to me as a mother myself. Having lived through a childhood with a mother that refused to be called "Mom" or some such equivalent endearment and without any knowledge of her father's identity, Christine feels unwanted and unloved. As a young girl and a teen, she gives all of her unconditional love to her brother, Lee. Christine searches for recognition, popularity, and love outside of the home. She ultimately exhibits signs of teenage rebellion. With the birth of Rayona, she tries to make up for the childhood she feels she never had. And yet, was she really fully there for Rayona? She continues to party often and carelessly.

The story of Christine's mother, "Aunt Ida" as she demanded to be called, finally reveals to the reader a wealth of insight regarding the motivation behind actions that impact a family throughout the generations. A woman who on the surface appears cold and even unloving, Aunt Ida is perhaps the most complex character. I found her story to be the most compelling of the three. I think it was clever of the author to reveal her story last. While reading her section first perhaps would have given us clues as to the reasons behind the actions and behaviors of the other two, I think by presenting it last the author has allowed the reader to be a part of the story in some fashion. We start with little information and don't know the character's motivations. Therefore, we are able to see through both Rayona's and Christine's eyes and understand how lack of communication can lead to wrong interpretations and long-lasting effects on personal relationships.

The only criticism I had with this well-written and moving novel was that Ida's story seemed to end too abruptly. I wished that her story could have extended a bit beyond the past and delved a bit into the present. I recommend this book to anyone that enjoys a thoughtful examination of family relationships and dynamics. 4.5 stars.

[Jennifer nyc · Rating 4 out of 5]

3.75

A story of mothers and daughters on a Montana reservation starting in the 1980s, told from youngest to oldest so that with each section we gain deeper insight into the family history. It starts from the pov of Rayona, age 15, who is pulled from her home in Seattle, dropped off at her grandmother’s house on the reservation, and then abandoned by her mother. This is how the story begins. Rayona stands out as different on the reservation - she’s half African-American, very tall, and very skinny. Feeling like a magnet for unwanted attention, combined with her rage at getting no explanation, causes her to run away. The middle and largest section of the story is from Rayona’s mother’s perspective, and the end is told by Rayona’s grandma. In the final part secrets are revealed, and with them, compassion and understanding.

There is so much here about love and loss, pride and withholding, guilt and blame, seduction and betrayal. These females do their best with the hand they’ve been dealt, learn to cope with the family-altering decisions they’ve made, and make peace with their pain. They are tough and determined despite feeling unloved. The mother-daughter relationships are fraught with secrets and misunderstandings, and all 3 daughters are tough and willful in the face of adversity. There’s always a moral compass, an attempt at doing the right thing.

I really liked the way the story unfolds. The writing is easy, and there’s a sweetness to it. Often it was too easy, too smooth, and I found myself gliding through without absorbing details and having to go back. But I needed something literary and lovely without challenging me too much, I was looking for real characters and relationships dealing with the pain of life without horrific abuse, and this delivered. Ultimately, I was left with strong, familial love.

[Diane S ☔ · Rating 4 out of 5]

Three generations of women, the complicated relationships that can be found between mothers and daughters. The novel starts in the present and is told backwards. Starts with young fifteen year old Rayona, trying to figure out who she is and where she belongs, taking care of her mother Christine. Christine who loves too hard and unwisely but tries to be a better mother than she felt hers was. Ida, her story pulls everything together, the reader can then put all the pieces together, cause and effect. My favorite character is Dayton, steady, asks for little but has a misfortune of his own to overcome. Much of this novel takes place on an Indian Reservation and we can see the boredom for the young, lack of opportunities but some of their customs as well.

That this was a first novel is astonishing. It is very well told and we get to know the key characters very well. Secrets and betrayals, hopes and dreams, finding one's way and understanding and reconciliation. My only sticking point was that Ida's story was too long delayed, her story was the one that makes the reader understand the rest and I think a little understanding beforehand would have improved my enjoyment of the story. Still this is a generational story with interesting characters facing various challenges and shows how what goes on in one generation can adversely affect the next.

[Camie · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is an emotionally dense tale of three generations of American Indian Women. It's basically one story told three times from a different POV.
First we hear 15 year old Rayona 's story, who feels everyone has deserted her and now even the one ever-present person in her life, her Mother has abandoned her. Next we hear the version by her mother Christine, who while battling her own demons , basically raises Rayona ,her mixed race daughter, as a single mom alone through difficult times. Lastly we hear Ida's story, the seemingly stoic grandmother who stayed on the reservation to raise Christine and her younger brother Lee. As they are now grown and have left the reservation , she is portrayed as being nonchalant and cold even towards her family. So that's what it look likes on the surface.
But as the stories are told in turn by the next woman, you come to see there are many more ways to look at things. Ida , the long suffering Grandmother ( whom they call aunt Ida) , has perhaps the most interesting story which shines a light on her present behavior . In fact as the stories begin to build upon one another we gain great insight in to how each of these character's situations came about and how they grow to greatly misunderstand each other's lot in life. Moral of the story: Never judge a book by it's cover , or someone's life by merely what you can see.
I've heard this is classic assigned reading , but I don't think this should be considered a YA book. I think HS students would get very little from this book. It's more for those of us who have journeyed through stuff , and have maybe been both erroneously judged by others or perhaps might even have misjudged others somewhat critically a time or two.
Jen , Really enjoyed your Feb Selection --- 5 stars

[Sara · Rating 4 out of 5]

Michael Dorris weaves a moving story of three generations of Native American women, whose lives are complicated and twisted, and whose love for one another is buried beneath misunderstanding and lack of communication. At the outset, we are told the story of Rayona’s life, through Rayona’s eyes. She is the half-Indian, half-black daughter of Christine. Her mother seems dissociative and somewhat cruel, and my reaction was to have no sympathy and very little understanding of a mother who would behave this way. But, even in Rayona’s account there is the hint of trouble between Christine and her mother, Ida, and when we reach book two and see the events through Christine’s eyes we come to understand behavior that seemed so puzzling before. And, finally, we are allowed to hear the background story that is Ida’s life and see the roots of all this dysfunction that haunts the lives of each of these women.

I was drawn into this book immediately and felt there was momentum that pulled me forward right through to the end. All the characters were very realistic and there was enough of mystery surrounding their lives to make you want to unravel the threads of the story for a peek at the past. I particularly liked the secondary characters of Dayton and Lee. They fleshed out the story and gave it a depth it would have lacked without them.

There is a clear picture of life on the reservation, the poverty and problems with alcohol and the unique problems that come from living where the ties are so close and intermingled. Although I have no first hand knowledge of life on a reservation, the novel feels well researched and accurately portrayed. Reading it in the wake of Killers of the Flower Moon: The Osage Murders and the Birth of the FBI, a non-fiction account of the Osage Indians, gave me a gauge against which to measure it, and it held up well.

[Jan Priddy · Rating 5 out of 5]

I taught this novel to high school juniors for many years so I have read it over and over, many chapters out loud. At end-of-the-year anonymous rankings it was always at the top.

One year I had a young man in my class who did not like reading, but I'd read the first pages aloud and he agreed to read some over the weekend, which got him hooked. He could relate to Rayona and her anger with her mother who drank and partied hard. The student brought the book to me—surprised at himself for finishing "Rayona"—and said, "I can't read the next section because Christine [the narrator of the middle section and Rayona's mother] is too much like my mother." I suggested he read 15 pages, and then he could stop if he didn't like it. He read the entire book and loved Christine's section best.

I think some readers gave up too soon on this novel, or wanted to find a more conventionally happy ending. There is, in fact great promise in the ending. I always asked readers: Why do each of the three stories end where they do? The stories overlap, but only very few scenes are repeated from different viewpoints. The three narrators are honest in their telling, but they see things differently. Christine will tell the reader, for example, that she is fat and unattractive, which is belied by other characters' reactions to her. She will also confess her failings without apology because if she began expressing her remorse and regrets she "wouldn't know where to stop."

This is a story about people who make mistakes and try to do better. I think that's pretty much what most of us are trying to do every single day.

[Carmel Hanes · Rating 4 out of 5]

"The edge that ran between us had sprouted broken glass and barbed wire. We would look over the top of it at each other when we had to, but neither of us was ready to cross."

Three women, three generations, and years of what should be said hiding in the darkness; years of that broken glass wall of distance and misunderstanding and lost chances dividing lives and shredding relationships.

I liked the format of this story, beginning with the present and moving backwards in time to discover what motivated each woman, what life experiences shaped their sense of self and ultimately their parenting styles and choices. I wanted to shake sense into them at times, but eventually understood the undercurrents that pulled them in the direction they went.

Well written with intricate portraits of interesting women left calloused by life's rough edges.

[Danielle · Rating 2 out of 5]

So, I made it about halfway through this book before throwing in the towel. Here's why:
1. I'm used to loving a book, or at least being invested in the characters enough that it's hard to put it down. That was not the case with this book. I read it because I had nothing else to do. But stopping at any point was not difficult, and I didn't feel strongly compelled to pick it up again.
2. The story was slow moving, without beautiful prose to make up for the lack of plot. The writing was only so-so.
3. There's enough bad stuff in the world without seeking it out in my entertainment. The profanity was a big turn-off.
Really, just one of those reasons would have been enough to give up on this book and find something better (my to-read shelf is big enough!), but I thought because it was both commercially and critically acclaimed I should give it more of a chance. So much for that.
One more just nit-picky thing. It seemed rather uncharacteristic of Christine, the mother, to abandon Ray. Granted, she was never the picture of maternal stability, but to just leave without another word, when she hadn't ever done that before was too much of a stretch for me to believe.

[Carol Brill · Rating 3 out of 5]

What kept this from being a 4 or better for me is an ending I didn't find satisfying. It's a skillfully plotted story with strong writing, well-rounded, sympathetic female characters and a strong sense of place and tradition. This is my second time reading this book, the first time was 10-15 years ago. The strength for me is that it is about 3 generations of mothers and daughters and told in sections from each of their POV. It starts with teenage Rayona's POV, moves to her mother, Christine, and ends with Aunt Ida, her grandmother. As each section unfolds, we gain insight about character motivation, better understand each characters' flaws and choices and go deeper into the family's history and secrets.
My quibble about the end is that I wanted more about Aunt Ida and what got her from "the Last Day, which I gave to Christine" to become the person she is in the present story

[Emma Deplores Goodreads Censorship · Rating 2 out of 5]

Next time I’m tempted to wax poetic about how great fiction editing used to be, or to worry that a poorly conceived new release is evidence of the profession’s demise, I’ll remind myself of this book. This distinctively 80s mess of unrealized potential and terrible editing choices.

This is a family saga, beginning in Seattle with a biracial teenager, Rayona, whose mother, Christine, suddenly decides they are going back to Montana, to the reservation where Christine grew up. The first large chunk of the book is told from Rayona’s point-of-view, the second, slightly larger chunk from Christine’s, and then a small segment at the end comes from the family matriarch, Ida.

The first mistake is that it’s all told in the first person. It goes almost without saying that all three voices sound the same; first-time novelists love to do multiple narrators and they always turn out this way. But here this is more than a literary criticism; the voice is so jarringly wrong for both Rayona and Christine – who together narrate 80% of the book – that it distanced me from their characters. For fifteen-year-old Rayona – apparently a cautious, sensitive girl – it’s far too detached, ironic, world-weary, mature. And for Christine too – heedless, self-deluding, emotional – it’s too detached, too self-aware. Only for Ida, who really is a tough, bitter, independent, too-old-for-your-shit type, does it work. It took me quite awhile to realize that this disconnect between character and voice was what was throwing me out of their stories. But in the end I think I only got to know Rayona or Christine when not in their heads.

The second mistake is the pacing. At 372 pages, the book is on the longer side for realistic fiction, and it has enough plot for maybe half those pages. Mostly Dorris disguises the lack of forward momentum with – or perhaps loses it in – overly detailed but ultimately unimportant scenes. And the lack of focus, the unnecessary words and scenes, corrode the story both on a macro level and a scene-by-scene one. A five-page scene details Christine’s buying a membership in a video rental club. Meanwhile, Christine’s entire 153-page POV section contains only 10 pages at the end that don’t overlap with Rayona’s; overwhelmingly, this middle chunk is spent rehashing things we already know or could infer from Rayona’s section. And then Rayona’s section spends a lot of time developing her relationships with minor characters and settings which then never appear again. I seriously considered quitting the novel in the middle.

But here’s an example so that you can judge for yourself. In this scene, Christine is finally alone with her former nemesis – her brother’s best friend – just after the brother’s funeral:

“The waitress arrived to take our order, and I paid her my full attention. She must have been sixty-five, but all the same she gave Dayton the once-over while she waited for us to decide. Dayton had a Montanaburger with fries, and I had the meatloaf plate with a tossed salad on the side.

“What kind of dressing you want with that, hon?” She peered at me from above her black and rhinestone glasses frames.

“What do you have?”

“French, Thousand Island, Green Goddess, and Creamy Italian,” she recited.

“Italian,” I said, like a city girl who knew her way around.

“I need a à la carte Italian,” she called across the serving counter into the kitchen, and tacked the page with our orders on a metal wheel, though we were the only ones eating. The cook spun it to see what to fix.

Red and green holiday tinsel still lined the doors and a string of colored lights framed the mirror behind the bar. The waitress moved from table to empty table, sashaying her hips as she straightened the ketchup bottles. She had a high bouffant the color of washed-out lace, exactly like the angel hair that swirled beneath the artificial tree with gold ornaments that was balanced on a table at the end of the room. She was decorated too. Over her beige turtleneck she wore a black felt bolero with MERRY and CHRISTMAS written in green glitter on either side, and around her neck hung a pendant made from a Bic lighter in a gold lamé case. It swung like a charm between her low breasts.”

Look, I don’t care about this diner or waitress that we’ll never see again. I’m here for the interaction between Christine and Dayton – which winds up getting less page time than the exhaustive description of the restaurant and its menu.

The third mistake is the ending, and there too, Dorris’s writing is tripped up by lack of proportion – by which I mean, a failure to allocate the most space, and the most important space, to the parts of the story that are important, while compressing the minor details into smaller and less prominent segments. There isn’t really an ending here. Rayona’s and Christine’s sections end at seemingly random points, and then Ida’s section turns out to be entirely backstory, ending when Christine was an adolescent, and neither giving Ida’s viewpoint on the subsequent bitter conflict between the two women, nor providing any resolution in the present.

But there’s one aspect of the ending that was particularly curious to me: both Rayona’s and Ida’s sections end on a discussion of Christine’s adolescent religious disenchantment, which doesn’t seem to be important to Christine herself at all. At most, this episode supplies a simplistic answer to the question “why is Christine a party girl?”, which isn’t a question I expect to be at the forefront of any reader’s mind. The questions the novel does raise, and then never answers, in order of importance as I saw it: What does Rayona’s future hold? Where will she live, what sort of understanding will she reach with the other major characters, will she break gender barriers in rodeo, will she ever return those blasted videotapes? Why is Ida so bad at showing her love? Will Christine ever accept responsibility for what she did to Lee? Were Lee and Dayton a couple? I wound up wondering if perhaps Dorris gave this episode such prominent billing because he intended the novel to be a critique of religion, or at least of Christian outsiders on reservations – but that doesn’t really fit the rest of the book. The priests, while of questionable morality, are minor characters who act to facilitate decisions other people have already made, rather than driving the action themselves.

In the end, the frustration never paid off. There was potential in the characters and plot and settings, and that kept me reading. But ultimately, like the title itself, this book consists of too many words with too little meaning (the raft, while visited, is never particularly important). I wouldn’t recommend it.

[Dianne · Rating 4 out of 5]

A re-read. I inadvertently bought this at a used book sale, only to discover I’d read it already in 2016. Since I remembered nothing about it, I read it again and seemed to like it a bit better than I did last time.

It’s a very nicely done multi-generational story about 3 Native American women, narrated by each of them - first daughter, then mother, then grandmother. It ended somewhat abruptly, as if the writer had hit an impasse in the grandmother’s story and didn’t know where to go with it next.

Originally, a 3.5 for me but giving it a full 4 stars on the re-read.

[Socket Klatzker]

I have complicated feelings about this book. I read it about 15 years ago, as a high school student. I loved it. I always used it as an example of men being able to write from women's perspectives in an effective way. Previously, I found that I did not get into other male author's attempts, but really felt like Dorris captured female voices honestly especially around objectification and sexualization. I put him in a category of empathic and clear thinking; I put him on a pedestal of the compassionate male author who "gets it" and I was grateful he existed.

Later, after growing and obtaining a gender understanding more multi-dimensional than male and female, I learned some facts and some gossip around his death. I learned of rumors of sexual abuse he perpetrated with his daughter, the falling apart of his marriage based on this and other private matters and his subsequent suicide. The only denier of these things was he himself. I choose to believe his daughter and ex-wife as they are represented in the limited internet research I did on the subject.

In my mind he was the exception to the rule that socialized males do not understand what it is like to be socialized female, in a binary world. Him being allegedly involved in non-concentual sex that most likely created a lot of pain felt like a personal betrayal. This news of his private life effected my opinion of the fiction he wrote. Some think it is essential to separate the art from the artist. A good painter can be a jerk and one can still appreciate the talent, right? Well, I am not able to do so with this book. It might be a good idea for me to re-read it now so many years later. But, I'm not quite ready.

[Betsy Robinson · Rating 3 out of 5]

Three women, who are three generations in an American Indian family, tell their perspectives on the same story and reveal secrets.

I had technical difficulties for the bulk of the beginning and middle: I didn’t believe the actions of a priest after he committed a no-no and I didn’t believe he got away with it without questioning or consequences. I could not suspend my disbelief when the 15-year-old, who had almost no horse experience, suddenly rode a bucking bronco in a rodeo. And I found the voices of the 15-year-old’s mother and grandmother in their first-person sections of the book more like a literary omniscient writer’s voice rather than the characters who had been created; they had self-awareness and sophistication that didn’t ring true. Also, I got bored with the repetition of facts from the 15-year-old and mother’s sections.

But then came the last three chapters. They were wonderful—taking this story into the realm of the best family dramas. So I’m glad I slogged through my incredulity.

[Book Concierge · Rating 2 out of 5]

Dorris braids a single story told in reverse chronological order, from three unique perspectives. Rayona, a 15-year-old “half-breed,” begins the story, relaying her efforts to raise her own irresponsible mother. We then move to Ray’s mother, Christine, who recounts her struggles growing up and rebelling against her unaffectionate mother, Aunt Ida. Finally we hear from Aunt Ida, the matriarch of the family, whose secrets have shaped her daughter and granddaughter in ways she never intended.

It’s a great premise for a literary work. However, I don’t think Dorris succeeds in his execution. I really grew to care about Rayona, but then her story ends abruptly and Dorris transfers the tale to Christine. Because they are both portrayed as so unfeeling and irresponsible, I had a hard time caring about Christine or Aunt Ida, though I did begin to empathize with Ida when she finally tells her story in part three. HERE is a story I really want to know more about. But Dorris ends the book abruptly … almost mid-sentence.

I’m left feeling very dissatisfied, and almost as if I wasted my time reading this. A reviewer on amazon.com wrote this: It’s pretty much like a wonderful chocolate mousse with cockroaches stirred in here and there. The mousse is wonderful, but you’ll never forget the images and crunches of those bits of cockroaches.

It gets 2 stars from me – I can’t think of anyone to whom I’d recommend this book.

[Teresa · Rating 4 out of 5]

A high 4.5 stars. I am still considering bumping it up to 5. I really enjoyed this book. Narrated first by the granddaughter, then the mother and the conclusion by the grandmother, this book depicts the struggles of the three generations of women in this contemporary Native American story. Each character's viewpoint contains heartache and secrets. The women are all stoic and brave when faced with adversity - coping in their own ways. I loved them all - Rayona, Christine and Ida. But, especially Ida.

What I loved about this book was how the stories overlapped and revealed things. I found myself flipping back in the book to Rayona's narration while reading Christine's. And, then it happened again when reading Ida's brief tale.

As a non Native American, I found myself in the unusual, rare situation of working with primarily all Native Americans briefly when employed by IHS (Indian Health Service). The Indian Health Service is required by law to provide absolute preference in employment to American Indians and Alaska Natives. Applicants must submit a form supporting their tribal affiliate and blood heritage (50%). I was hired only through written exception. I had a skill set that was rare for applicants at that time. IHS had employees from various locations and tribes and I learned so much about their cultures - the tribal pow wows, their love of football, growing up on a reservation, (because it was a health agency) their primary health risks and issues, how highly they valued education, the beautiful artwork & pottery, etc. Some of the younger employees in this agency received work study scholarships for nursing and would be obligated to work at an IHS clinic for several years following graduation. They were truly remarkable young people and did not take the opportunity for granted. I had a lunchtime Thanksgiving feast with my office for several years where we all brought favorite dishes - I loved that! I eventually transferred to another agency. I was working to pay my children's college tuition as I didn't want them to graduate with huge student loan debts and it seemed like the wise move at the time. It would be extremely difficult for me to be promoted at IHS. But, I have very good memories from working there. I had to smile reading the last name Begay in this book as it is a HUGELY prevalent last name in Arizona for Native Americans. For me, this book definitely had a familiarity.

Poignant story. I loved Ida. I'm looking forward to the book discussion for our buddy read ~ great choice!

[Michael · Rating 4 out of 5]

I must start off this review by saying that, due to lots of input from those who loathed the book with a fiery passion (the juniors from last year who, like myself this summer, were assigned to read Yellow Raft for English III). So before I began this book, I was expecting a trip to Hell and back in the form of tedious writing and hokey plot twists. Now, being that I'd like to think that their oral review had little to no effect on my opinion, I will continue with my blog.
It's no surprise that the book is the interest of a high school class: the plot follows three generations of Native American women, going backwards in time, yet still being progressive with new information. Instead of giving vague details and leaving plot to later be found by the order of happening, and taking the chance of losing the majority of the readers within the first couple of chapters, Michael Dorris manages his time manipulation by giving certain ideas through the youngest character, Rayona. As time goes on, she reaches a bit of absolution, but finds more questions about her mother than anything else. Now, rewind.
The narrator switches to Christine, the mother of Rayona. Beginning with her childhood, the plot developes and gives insight and answers so many of Rayona's questions, as long as giving her an ending sequence. Now, rewind again to bring us to the oldest generation, Ida.
Through this character, Dorris gets to add his element of theme to the story, aside from simply the troubles of a mother-daughter relationship.
The thing that Dorris achieves so well with this novel is his ability to change the characters through each others' perceptions. What the reader may think as Rayona speaks can be completely twisted by Christine. Not so much is it an idea of the psyche is Yellow Raft as a simple message: get the facts before jumping to conclusions.

[Donna Craig · Rating 4 out of 5]

Well, I honestly didn’t expect to love this book., it turned out to be deeply moving. It is the story of three generations of Native American (Hopi?) women. The interesting thing is that the story is narrated in turns by each woman, beginning with the youngest, then moving to her mother, and, finally, her grandmother. I was intensely captivated by the telling of the same stories in each woman’s perspective. Boy, was I wrong about the grandmother! I NEVER saw that coming! This book skillfully demonstrates the folly of thinking you understand a story when you have only heard one side. What a beautiful story. I highly recommend it to bookish types.

[Alex · Rating 1 out of 5]

I don't get it.

This book was recommended by friend who's a retired academic. Judging by the presence of the multiple study guides that appeared when I Googled the title, it's regularly assigned in classroom environments.

I can see why. This book, a tale of three generations of Northwestern Native American women, is the kind of misery porn beloved of academics. It's a story of miserable people treating one another miserably, thus increasing their own misery and the misery of everyone around them. It was written by a suicidal man, with an excellent academic pedigree, whose depression is a palpable presence on every page. This kind of thing is catnip to literary critics.

But I don't get it. Why would anyone want to subject themselves to this? To learn that life is hard and people can be cruel? I had that figured out by the time I was six. Nope; this is the kind of book that turns young people off to reading. It's time we recognized adventure, comedy, horror, and mystery for the legitimate forms of literature that they are. It's time we stopped elevating misery porn and started elevating rousing storytelling, for the intrinsic joy of a good story is something humans have shared since we first started figuring out how to pass our time around the campfire.

I'm grateful to my friend for thinking enough of me to recommend a book that spoke to her. Misery porn, however, is not my bag.

[Jan Livingston · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book has characters that touch your heart and stay with you. I finished this several days ago and still and putting together new ideas and interpretations over the story.
It really highlights the frailty of humanity as well as the deep, abiding damage that can come from secrets; even well intentioned secrets.
the characters live in a world if missed communications which have disastrous long term consequences. the end of the story has a bright, shining candle of hope but it is not certain and can be easily snuffed out.
Lessons for us all to learn here...

[Everly Anders · Rating 4 out of 5]

What I loved about this book was that it was broken up into three sections, each one of them about a different character, a girl, her mother, and grandmother. Every time the point of view changed you felt differently about the caracter. Plus the dialogue was great, we could all learn something from this author.

[Laila · Rating 3 out of 5]

I liked the beginning a lot. I wasn't too keen on the author's rather awkward literary device of switching narrators. Unsatisfying conclusion.

[Ginny Dodge · Rating 1 out of 5]

After reading A Yellow Raft in Blue Water, I found myself unhappy with the literary merit of Michael Dorris’ novel. The story of three women of Native American descent in the Oregon and Montana area was stated to be a monumental novel. My original belief, upon reading the reviews in the front of the book, was that the novel would be an uplifting portrayal of three women’s journeys throughout life. Unfortunately, my reading appetite was not sated. The typical vocabulary and unexciting plot line led to an excruciating read.
Although there were a few moments of genius writing, I was generally disappointed with the end result of Dorris’ novel. There are many translucent examples of Dorris’ hints at the corruption of religion. An all to obvious foreshadowing occurs between Rayona, the youngest narrator, and a priest from the Indian reservation. No suspense is built up in this interwoven plot line, where the reader can be sure that an “act of sin” is on the horizon. Similarly, Christine, the second narrator, renounces religion and follows a life of personal happiness. Christine puts quantifiable items like having money, possessions, and acquiring the jealousy of others over the quality necessities of love, life, and happiness. This outlook ends up proving just how disastrous a life can become if no restraint is taken in consideration of one’s life.
An ironic twist to the novel’s condemnation of religion is that the journey of the three women could be constantly paralleled to the holy trinity. The story, told in three parts by each of the women, leaves much to be desired, however. All three women are portrayed as tragic characters. They lead unfortunate lives in the midst of personal denial, confusion of self-importance, and unjust blaming for events out of one’s control. The pitiful collection of women is honestly a depressing and unsatisfying authorial technique.
The beginning of the story stars Rayona, daughter of Christine and granddaughter of Aunt Ida. Her mixed heritage of being Native American and black makes her an outcast in any school she attends and an object of question wherever she goes. Her mother often betrays her, but in spite of that, she is drawn to her mother’s apologies and always forgives her. Viewing this constant backtracking to a negative influence is a strong aspect of annoyance within the novel. Christine feels the Ray is the only person who stays by her side, but in fact Christine’s attendance in Rayona’s world bars her daughter back and creates endless hurdles to jump over.
An interesting appearance, however, is the couple Sky and Evelyn. These two care for Rayona and keep track of her when she runs away from the Indian reservation her mother brought her to. The couple is an obvious positive in Rayona’s life, illuminating to her the actions of a caring mother figure and allowing the time she needed to revitalize before returning to her family. Evelyn’s blunt nature is similar to other characters in the novel, but the characterization of Sky as a free spirit is a refreshing element.
In the second part of the novel, Christine takes the front seat. She recaps her life, and the reader finds out exactly why she is running from everything and constantly blaming herself. Although the reader becomes quickly sentimental to Christine’s position on life, her constant need to be pulled in by others causes the book to feel like a stodgy dirge. Her life doesn’t bring much luck, what with family deaths, adultery, and failing health. She eventually ends up in the right place, however, making what apologies she can before she dies. She also begins forgiving herself, which is a rather infertile and overused plot line in much of today’s literature.
The story finally peters out with the introduction of Aunt Ida’s point of view. Although the most lyrically pleasing section, the seemingly rushed end of the story is notably shorter than the other two parts. What seems a last ditch attempt to combine the three stories is somewhat heartfelt, but is generally yet another story telling of unfair circumstances and poor quality living. Ida is plagued with he onset of children before she really assumes the mindset of “mother” and does so without a husband. Her trials in life are not aided by her constant appeals to God, and her clinging to Indian language and traditions shoot her off as a stubborn old woman. She feels shame at her actions and is often embarrassed even though her outer shell is toughened against even the slightest reaction. Her disastrous childhood never seems to escape her, and hard work and personal piety keeps her alive, even if she doesn’t know how to apologize to those she loves.
Overall, the story has left a slightly bitter aftertaste for me. I don’t agree that writing about the perils and trials of others effectively harbor a creative environment. I would not recommend the book unless you’re feeling like a plunge into the disappointing aftermath of these three women. The end result, to me, is simply a poor attempt at life-changing literature.

[Jessie · Rating 5 out of 5]

I whole-heartedly loved this novel. It's a formidable saga of women spanning three generations that is beautifully layered and absolutely unforgettable. It begins with Rayona, my favorite of the three, a young girl of 15 that is as level-headed and independent as she is hardened by circumstance. Her story begins as she struggles with the contradictory natures of her relatives. Half black and half American Indian, she is undeniably striking and exudes both an inner strength and sullen attitude as she seeks to find her place both among her family members and the world at large. Next we're introduced to Christine, her mother, a person of passion and extremes. She's a woman who had high hopes for herself and dreamt of life beyond the reservation, even as she struggled with feelings of resentment and affection for the people she finds herself entwined with. A person of fierceness and softness alike, cloaked in fearlessness and self-absorption, Christine carries us from place to place and lights a fire in the heart of this story. And finally we read of Ida, a woman with many hidden compartments always shrouded in mystery, remembrance, and regret. She is mother, Aunt Ida, and the stubborn rock of this matriarchy. She is a woman who endured both sacrifice and betrayal, and forever plagued with the curse of secrecy. I found myself wishing for her part to be longer, but then, perhaps it is the nature of her character to leave us wanting, and in that I'm satisfied. This novel encompasses all that is loved and rejected in the name of family, all that is embraced and cast aside. This is not simply the same story told three times over, it is as separate as three parts of a braid coming together to make something that feels effortless and plainly elegant.

[Debbie Floyd · Rating 4 out of 5]

The author tells a compelling story about three generations of Native American women. There are actually three books in one as each part of the book is told in the point of view of each of the women Rayona daughter/granddaughter, Christine mother/daughter and Ida mother/grandmother. The stories of their lives their hardships the choices they each make and the circumstances they each must face that helps create the women they have become. There are some that wish the author had written a sequel and I think that would have been good, however I think he may have also left this as a stand-alone so at the end each reader may continue to imagine how each of the lives of these women may or may not continue. Overall the author tells a captivating tale of the lives of three women trying to deal with circumstance that in a lot of ways are stacked against them. It is sad that this author died so young, I think he had many more stories within him to tell.

[suzy · Rating 3 out of 5]

I got creeped out after the author killed himself and more truth came out about his life and his treatment of his foster children. Makes me wonder what really inspired his work as well as that of his wife, Louise Erdrich. At the time I enjoyed the book.

http://www.corvalliscommunitypages.co...

[Jodi · Rating 2 out of 5]

This book looked promising and I started out hoping for a really good read. However, there was a lot of the plot that just left you hanging and much of it that I felt was just "silly". Divided into three points of view, some of the characters' stories were much more compelling than others. Unfortunately, all in all I didn't feel like the book was worth the time it took to read.

[reading is my hustle · Rating 5 out of 5]

Cross generational story about three women living on an Indian reservation in Montana. Outstanding.

[Rosemary · Rating 5 out of 5]

"I am stopped, halfway down the trail, with my eyes fixed on the empty yellow raft floating in the blue waters of Bear Paw Lake. Somewhere in my mind I've decided that if I stare at it hard enough it will launch me out of my present troubles. If I squint a certain way, it appears to be a lighted trapdoor, flush against a black floor. With my eyes closed almost completely, it becomes a kind of bull's-eye, and I am an arrow banging into it headfirst."

These are the thoughts of 15-year-old Rayona, daughter of a Native American woman and an African-American father, who has run away from the reservation where her mother Christine has left her to stay with her grandmother, Aunt Ida. Rayona doesn't fit anywhere, not in her old life in Seattle and certainly not on the "res" where she stands out for being the wrong color and way too tall. Aunt Ida mostly ignores her, while Christine has gone to the other side of the reservation to stay with a childhood friend. Rayona blames her mom for the unhappy life she has and her glum future. She thinks her mom smokes, drinks, and parties too much and is critical of her relationships with men. She thinks Christine doesn't love her.

After seeing the situation through Rayona's eyes, we hear the story from Christine, who does not know who her own father is and who has always felt unloved by Aunt Ida. We learn why she left the reservation, how she met Elgin, Rayona's father, and how their marriage fell apart. We learn about Christine's brother Lee and his friend Dayton and the close relationship they all had growing up. We see how all the partying got started and how Aunt Ida disapproved. We see how much Christine cares for Rayona but thinks Rayona doesn't love her.

Aunt Ida gets the last section, and hers is the shortest and most poignant story. Aunt Ida is a harsh, stubborn woman but when we see the world from her perspective and understand the sacrifices she has made, the lives of the three women come together in a way that makes sense for the first time. All the love that got lost, all the judgments, all the difficult struggles.

The way the the story is revealed backwards, sometimes overlapping, is beautifully done. How each generation fails to understand the one before it and how a culture that used to be strong and communicative has broken down are underlying themes, but so are the love and the strong bonds between women.

"The cold was bearable because the air was so still. I let the blanket slip from my shoulders, lifting my arms about my head, and began.
'What are you doing?' Father Hurlburt asked [Aunt Ida].
As a man with cut hair, he did not identify the rhythm of three strands, the whispers of coming and going, of twisting and tying and blending, of catching and of letting go, of braiding."

[Myfanwy · Rating 5 out of 5]

A Yellow Raft in Blue Water is a novel I won't soon forget. Set in Seattle and Montana, it tells the tale of three Native American women--Rayona, Christine and Ida--each in her own voice. They are related, a family, and their worlds intersect and tear apart, span out and braid back together, but it is not until the ending that the reader fully understands how the events which start the novel have come to pass.

It is told in reverse, starting with the youngest, Rayona or Ray for short. At first, her strength lies in the unconditional love she has for her mother but after her mother deserts her and she is forced to fend for herself (and is molested by a priest), she shows that her strength does not come from others. She is a warrior and by the end of her story, she comes to embody the spirit of all those missing who came before her--all those we don't truly know about until the end of the book.

Christine seems weak, diseased and tormented with feelings that her mother did not love her. These lifelong feelings led her down a path of promiscuity and jealousy goaded her into pressuring her beloved brother to enlist. And when he does and dies in Vietnam, it is as if he is reborn in her daughter. The same feelings of unworthiness consume her until her health fails and she returns home to find love again--love in an old friend, love in her daughter and love in the woman who raised her.

Aunt Ida is the true enigma and the undying and unexpected source of strength. She has martyred herself and because of this, the lives of others have turned sour. But her goal was an honorable one. She wanted love and to be loved. She wanted safety. She wanted to weave together disparate parts and form a whole. As shown at the end of the book when Ida takes the one man who never hurt her to the roof of her house, she wanted to braid her loved ones together and have them be stronger for it.