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The Lone Ranger and Tonto Fistfight in Heaven
In this darkly comic short story collection, Sherman Alexie, a Spokane/Coeur d'Alene Indian, brilliantly weaves memory, fantasy, and stark realism to paint a complex, grimly ironic portrait of life in and around the Spoke Indian Reservation. These 22 interlinked tales are narrated by characters raised on humiliation and government-issue cheese, and yet are filled with passion and affection, myth and dream. There is Victor, who as a nine-year-old crawled between his unconscious parents hoping that the alcohol seeping through their skins might help him sleep. Thomas Builds-the-Fire, who tells his stories long after people stop listening, and Jimmy Many Horses, dying of cancer, who writes letters on stationary that reads "From the Death Bed of James Many Horses III," even though he actually writes them on his kitchen table. Against a backdrop of alcohol, car accidents, laughter, and basketball, Alexie depicts the distances between Indians and whites, reservation Indians and urban Indians, men and women, and most poetically, between modern Indians and the traditions of the past.
224 pages, Kindle Edition
First published September 1, 1993
1173 people are currently reading
16635 people want to read
About the author
Sherman Alexie
135 books6,651 followersSherman Alexie is a Native American author, poet, and filmmaker known for his powerful portrayals of contemporary Indigenous life, often infused with wit, humor, and emotional depth. Drawing heavily on his experiences growing up on the Spokane Indian Reservation, Alexie's work addresses complex themes such as identity, poverty, addiction, and the legacy of colonialism, all filtered through a distinctly Native perspective.
His breakout book, The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian, is a semi-autobiographical young adult novel that won the 2007 National Book Award and remains widely acclaimed for its candid and humorous depiction of adolescence and cultural dislocation. Earlier, Alexie gained critical attention with The Lone Ranger and Tonto Fistfight in Heaven, a collection of interconnected short stories that was adapted into the Sundance-winning film Smoke Signals (1998), for which he wrote the screenplay. He also authored the novels Reservation Blues, Indian Killer, and Flight, as well as numerous poetry collections including The Business of Fancydancing and Face.
Born with hydrocephalus, Alexie faced health and social challenges from an early age but demonstrated early academic talent and a deep love for reading. He left the reservation for high school and later studied at Washington State University, where a poetry course shifted his path toward literature. His mentor, poet Alex Kuo, introduced him to Native American writers, profoundly shaping his voice.
In 2018, Alexie faced multiple allegations of sexual harassment, which led to widespread fallout, including rescinded honors and changes in how his work is promoted in educational and literary institutions. He acknowledged causing harm but denied specific accusations. Despite the controversy, his influence on contemporary Native American literature remains significant.
Throughout his career, Alexie has received many awards, including the PEN/Faulkner Award for War Dances and an American Book Award for Reservation Blues. He has also been a prominent advocate for Native youth and a founding member of Longhouse Media, promoting Indigenous storytelling through film.
Whether through poetry, prose, or film, Alexie’s work continues to challenge stereotypes and elevate Native American voices in American culture.
His breakout book, The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian, is a semi-autobiographical young adult novel that won the 2007 National Book Award and remains widely acclaimed for its candid and humorous depiction of adolescence and cultural dislocation. Earlier, Alexie gained critical attention with The Lone Ranger and Tonto Fistfight in Heaven, a collection of interconnected short stories that was adapted into the Sundance-winning film Smoke Signals (1998), for which he wrote the screenplay. He also authored the novels Reservation Blues, Indian Killer, and Flight, as well as numerous poetry collections including The Business of Fancydancing and Face.
Born with hydrocephalus, Alexie faced health and social challenges from an early age but demonstrated early academic talent and a deep love for reading. He left the reservation for high school and later studied at Washington State University, where a poetry course shifted his path toward literature. His mentor, poet Alex Kuo, introduced him to Native American writers, profoundly shaping his voice.
In 2018, Alexie faced multiple allegations of sexual harassment, which led to widespread fallout, including rescinded honors and changes in how his work is promoted in educational and literary institutions. He acknowledged causing harm but denied specific accusations. Despite the controversy, his influence on contemporary Native American literature remains significant.
Throughout his career, Alexie has received many awards, including the PEN/Faulkner Award for War Dances and an American Book Award for Reservation Blues. He has also been a prominent advocate for Native youth and a founding member of Longhouse Media, promoting Indigenous storytelling through film.
Whether through poetry, prose, or film, Alexie’s work continues to challenge stereotypes and elevate Native American voices in American culture.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 2,267 reviews
August 12, 2007
This is one of my favorite books to teach. I give it to my tenth graders. We do most of it as a read aloud. We do most of it as discussion. My students enjoy this book because they don't think they'll be able to connect with native americans on the west coast when they're alt school kids on the east coast, but then they're amazed. Some themes - poverty, alcoholism, depression, love, passion, sex, confusion, loneliness, isolation - are universal.
This is one of the few books that I have read with a class, had a student go to jail during the reading, and come back asking to read the book and tell me about how he picked up another book about native americans while in jail because he missed LR&TFFiH so much. That's probably the best endorsement I can give a book.
This is one of the few books that I have read with a class, had a student go to jail during the reading, and come back asking to read the book and tell me about how he picked up another book about native americans while in jail because he missed LR&TFFiH so much. That's probably the best endorsement I can give a book.
April 5, 2022
“The ordinary can be like medicine.”
I was introduced to the work of Sherman Alexie in college. I read THE LONE RANGER AND TONTO FISTFIGHT IN HEAVEN at that time, mainly because of the influence of a good professor, and that awesome title! Revisiting it 20 plus years later this text resonates in a different way for me. There is much melancholy and sadness in this book, but despite that there beats beneath the surface of all of these stories a persistent embrace of life. The good and the bad are there, but these characters keep plugging away, day after day. Some of these people get the good more than others, some seem to inherit mostly the bad. But they all breathe in and out, and put one foot in front of the other.
The text is a collection of 22 loosely connected short stories, all dealing with Native Americans in the Pacific Northwest. There are some reoccurring characters, one of the most prominent being a man named Victor. We get glimpses into Victor’s life at different stages throughout the text.
Some highlights from the text include the titular story, which has depth, and is tightly written and flows very well. Another personal favorite in this collection is “A Good Story”, which I just enjoyed. Finally, the story “The Approximate Size of My Favorite Tumor” is a lovely piece about laughter, relationships, and death.
Some quotes from the text:
• “Memories not destroyed, but forever changed and damaged.”
• “Don’t need to believe anything. It just is.”
• “Your past ain’t going to fall behind, and your future won’t get too far ahead.”
• “They fought each other with the kind of graceful anger that only love can create.”
• “Music had powerful medicine.”
• “What’s real? I ain’t interested in what’s real. I’m interested in how things should be.”
• “One of his dreams came true for just a second, just enough to make it real.”
• “It was cruel, but it was real.”
• “Books and beer are the best and worst defense.”
• “More and more, he heard his spine playing stickgame through his skin, singing old dusty words, the words of all his years.”
• “Imagination is the only weapon on the reservation.”
• “Humor was an antiseptic that cleaned the deepest of personal wounds.”
• “I knew there were plenty of places I wanted to be, but none where I was supposed to be.”
• “But those arguments were just as damaging as a fist.”
• “How do you talk to the real person whose ghost has haunted you?”
• “Diabetes is just like a lover, hurting you from the inside.”
As a rule I am not a fan of the genre of short story. Many times the limitations of the genre prove to be too much for me. However, Sherman Alexie makes me forget that I feel that way. The journeys he creates for the reader are worth taking.
I was introduced to the work of Sherman Alexie in college. I read THE LONE RANGER AND TONTO FISTFIGHT IN HEAVEN at that time, mainly because of the influence of a good professor, and that awesome title! Revisiting it 20 plus years later this text resonates in a different way for me. There is much melancholy and sadness in this book, but despite that there beats beneath the surface of all of these stories a persistent embrace of life. The good and the bad are there, but these characters keep plugging away, day after day. Some of these people get the good more than others, some seem to inherit mostly the bad. But they all breathe in and out, and put one foot in front of the other.
The text is a collection of 22 loosely connected short stories, all dealing with Native Americans in the Pacific Northwest. There are some reoccurring characters, one of the most prominent being a man named Victor. We get glimpses into Victor’s life at different stages throughout the text.
Some highlights from the text include the titular story, which has depth, and is tightly written and flows very well. Another personal favorite in this collection is “A Good Story”, which I just enjoyed. Finally, the story “The Approximate Size of My Favorite Tumor” is a lovely piece about laughter, relationships, and death.
Some quotes from the text:
• “Memories not destroyed, but forever changed and damaged.”
• “Don’t need to believe anything. It just is.”
• “Your past ain’t going to fall behind, and your future won’t get too far ahead.”
• “They fought each other with the kind of graceful anger that only love can create.”
• “Music had powerful medicine.”
• “What’s real? I ain’t interested in what’s real. I’m interested in how things should be.”
• “One of his dreams came true for just a second, just enough to make it real.”
• “It was cruel, but it was real.”
• “Books and beer are the best and worst defense.”
• “More and more, he heard his spine playing stickgame through his skin, singing old dusty words, the words of all his years.”
• “Imagination is the only weapon on the reservation.”
• “Humor was an antiseptic that cleaned the deepest of personal wounds.”
• “I knew there were plenty of places I wanted to be, but none where I was supposed to be.”
• “But those arguments were just as damaging as a fist.”
• “How do you talk to the real person whose ghost has haunted you?”
• “Diabetes is just like a lover, hurting you from the inside.”
As a rule I am not a fan of the genre of short story. Many times the limitations of the genre prove to be too much for me. However, Sherman Alexie makes me forget that I feel that way. The journeys he creates for the reader are worth taking.
August 28, 2008
We need more authors like Sherman Alexie. Being Native American in the U.S. is like living in our own foreign country within a country. No one besides an Indian REALLY knows what it is like to live on a reservation. Alexie vividly paints this picture in a no-nonsense, brutally honest way. I love that. I wish general joe-public had more of a grasp of what growing up Native American is like instead of applying the age-old stigmas of uneducated diabetic drunks who run the casinos and play BINGO.
I love my heritage and am desperately trying to keep it alive with my children. We are a dying breed.....only a shell of what we used to be before the Europeans came...and yet so rich in culture and tenacity. I appreciate how Alexie captures this in his writing.
Today is a good day to die. I found myself remembering some of the lingo from the rez and way it is spoken. I love how Alexie brings this in...enit, and ya~hey. I could feel the beat of the drums through each story. Echoing in the wind where ever I am..covering me in a blanket, bringing me peace.
While on the reservation, there always seemed to be drums in the air. I would step outside the hospital during my night shift for a break and hear drums beating in the distance. Like a lullaby. An instant stress reliever. A soft breeze combing through the hairs of my arms. Comfort.
This is what Indians are good at. Living for today. Living the NOW. Because...today is a good day to die. OR...today is a good day to read a book. Today is a good day to read Sherman Alexie.
Bring it on dude....more, more, more....
I love my heritage and am desperately trying to keep it alive with my children. We are a dying breed.....only a shell of what we used to be before the Europeans came...and yet so rich in culture and tenacity. I appreciate how Alexie captures this in his writing.
Today is a good day to die. I found myself remembering some of the lingo from the rez and way it is spoken. I love how Alexie brings this in...enit, and ya~hey. I could feel the beat of the drums through each story. Echoing in the wind where ever I am..covering me in a blanket, bringing me peace.
While on the reservation, there always seemed to be drums in the air. I would step outside the hospital during my night shift for a break and hear drums beating in the distance. Like a lullaby. An instant stress reliever. A soft breeze combing through the hairs of my arms. Comfort.
This is what Indians are good at. Living for today. Living the NOW. Because...today is a good day to die. OR...today is a good day to read a book. Today is a good day to read Sherman Alexie.
Bring it on dude....more, more, more....
August 31, 2025
I wrote a one sentence review years ago about this masterful short story collection- but now that I think of it, a more thoughtful analysis of Mr. Alexie's work is in order.
I thank my professor of multicultural literature over 20 years ago- and they introduced me to voices and writers of color that often found themselves wanting more out of life, with the desire to be seen.
The title story of Mr. Alexie's collection is the one story I remember most: violent, heartbreaking- with a daring and dark opening where the narrator fucks with a convenience store clerk in hopes of obtaining a Creamsicle on a hot night. From there, his haunted memories of having lost his girlfriend from his constant infidelities, lies and penchant for violence often takes over his psyche, juxtaposed with Native lands being taken over by white men, sending members of the Coeur D'Alene and Choctaw Tribes into displacement.
The other story, which was adapted into the independent film "Smoke Signals"- "This Is What It Means to Say Phoenix, Arizona" is a tragicomic, buddy road movie about Victor and Thomas Builds the Fire, having to drive from Washington to collect Victor's father's ashes. It is a funny, offbeat treatment of the odd couple trope who find hope and annoyance with each other.
I am highly aware that Professor Alexie was accused of sexual allegations in 2018 which have sullied his reputation as an artist, and a well respected member of the writing community.
Though I was saddened to read this, his stories remain a big part of my own growth as a teacher, and my own journey into becoming more empathic to those who have less.
I thank my professor of multicultural literature over 20 years ago- and they introduced me to voices and writers of color that often found themselves wanting more out of life, with the desire to be seen.
The title story of Mr. Alexie's collection is the one story I remember most: violent, heartbreaking- with a daring and dark opening where the narrator fucks with a convenience store clerk in hopes of obtaining a Creamsicle on a hot night. From there, his haunted memories of having lost his girlfriend from his constant infidelities, lies and penchant for violence often takes over his psyche, juxtaposed with Native lands being taken over by white men, sending members of the Coeur D'Alene and Choctaw Tribes into displacement.
The other story, which was adapted into the independent film "Smoke Signals"- "This Is What It Means to Say Phoenix, Arizona" is a tragicomic, buddy road movie about Victor and Thomas Builds the Fire, having to drive from Washington to collect Victor's father's ashes. It is a funny, offbeat treatment of the odd couple trope who find hope and annoyance with each other.
I am highly aware that Professor Alexie was accused of sexual allegations in 2018 which have sullied his reputation as an artist, and a well respected member of the writing community.
Though I was saddened to read this, his stories remain a big part of my own growth as a teacher, and my own journey into becoming more empathic to those who have less.
March 2, 2011
"We have to believe in the power of imagination because it's all we have, and ours is stronger than theirs." - Lawrence Thornton
Make me jealous. If you can make me jealous, I am yours. I was kinda jealous of the community because they HAD one, despite tearing itself down in the no-past and no-future. I kinda loved these stories. I was almost belonging to it. Sometimes I felt lonely from the possessiveness of their heroes. That kinda sucked because I've been trying hard to avoid loneliness. Sometimes I understood the loneliness that caused that and I'd have uncomfortable thoughts about why I don't feel community and communicative.
The possessiveness is what kept them connected, and also what kept them down. The lower points were fascination in what happened. My highs were the fascination in the stories of what could be. The imagination, Mariel!
The Lone Ranger and Tonto Fistfight In Heaven is the second recommendation I've tried from karen's readers advisory for all group. karen's project for school is to help readers think about what they are looking for in a book, helping other readers find their deepest book desires. Like the kinds of books you REALLY hope to find but seldom know about how to go towards discovery (since I'm nuts I just call them my fetishisms to myself). The criteria can get really specific. I asked for recommendations for short stories that would make me feel as Winesburg, Ohio did (in my woefully lacking in real reaching out words). The feeling of Winesburg being the connected best way as souls turned inside (it's hard to put it how I mean it!). I wanted short stories because it is hard to take that kind of closeness for long. Sometimes you can't bear to be in that life prison for, well, life.
Christy (she hasn't read Winesburg) suggested reading 'Tonto'. Thank-you, Christy! (Check out her great review of this book that is much, much better than mine.)
"I know how all my dreams end anyway."
I was not a fan of the introduction by the author. If you ever read the ass-patting praise quotes on the back of book jackets? Alexie gave me major vibes of buying into that. "The great new voice". 'Tonto' was published in 1993. There was an indie film version, Smoke Signals . MIRAMAX DID IT. It played at SUNDANCE. Y'know, ROBERT REDFORD'S Sundance. Gasp! (I haven't seen it. That'll show those guys who used to insist I'd seen everything since the '70s. I clearly haven't!). Blah blah, it was in its tenth publication. He wanted to give a fuck you to this lady agent who didn't think the stories were ready yet, that they needed more work. Um.... The book is very good. But I don't like the feeling I get from the "great new voice" stuff. I think the book should live as best it can and not worry about being scene changing. What the hell is that, anyway? If you got published and it all worked out, why worry about some lady agent from freaking years ago (but not nearly long enough to be considered a classic).
Anyway, I thought that Alexie should have taken Thomas Builds-the-Fire's advice and live for the now. I really liked Thomas. I got the trying to know how other people felt through stories feeling from him. The inventing your own reasons to live by knowing others around you through imagining what could matter to them. Community type stuff there.
Alexie also wrote in the introduction that his detractors didn't approve of the alcoholism of his stories. I'm totally with him on that just being autobiographical. Do they really think that writing stories about people who drink is the problem in the situation? Really?
My mom was always calling my dad a drunk Indian (he died of drink, as did five of his six brothers. The other surely will do the same). (His father was Cherokee. I'm about as Cherokee as Johnny Depp is, I guess.) That and thinking he had a Jesus beard were my earliest impressions of him. (Not that my mama spared me the abuse stories. She didn't.) My mom might have meant it as a slur. But she STILL sighs over how good looking he was (these days I think he looked like a prototype hipster). My mom would totally be one of those annoying "white people" written about in 'Tonto'.
I did wonder if the introduction bitterness had to do about himself being one of the heroes who made it. That would be a funny feeling. To be a hero...
Make me jealous. If you can make me jealous, I am yours. I was kinda jealous of the community because they HAD one, despite tearing itself down in the no-past and no-future. I kinda loved these stories. I was almost belonging to it. Sometimes I felt lonely from the possessiveness of their heroes. That kinda sucked because I've been trying hard to avoid loneliness. Sometimes I understood the loneliness that caused that and I'd have uncomfortable thoughts about why I don't feel community and communicative.
The possessiveness is what kept them connected, and also what kept them down. The lower points were fascination in what happened. My highs were the fascination in the stories of what could be. The imagination, Mariel!
The Lone Ranger and Tonto Fistfight In Heaven is the second recommendation I've tried from karen's readers advisory for all group. karen's project for school is to help readers think about what they are looking for in a book, helping other readers find their deepest book desires. Like the kinds of books you REALLY hope to find but seldom know about how to go towards discovery (since I'm nuts I just call them my fetishisms to myself). The criteria can get really specific. I asked for recommendations for short stories that would make me feel as Winesburg, Ohio did (in my woefully lacking in real reaching out words). The feeling of Winesburg being the connected best way as souls turned inside (it's hard to put it how I mean it!). I wanted short stories because it is hard to take that kind of closeness for long. Sometimes you can't bear to be in that life prison for, well, life.
Christy (she hasn't read Winesburg) suggested reading 'Tonto'. Thank-you, Christy! (Check out her great review of this book that is much, much better than mine.)
"I know how all my dreams end anyway."
I was not a fan of the introduction by the author. If you ever read the ass-patting praise quotes on the back of book jackets? Alexie gave me major vibes of buying into that. "The great new voice". 'Tonto' was published in 1993. There was an indie film version, Smoke Signals . MIRAMAX DID IT. It played at SUNDANCE. Y'know, ROBERT REDFORD'S Sundance. Gasp! (I haven't seen it. That'll show those guys who used to insist I'd seen everything since the '70s. I clearly haven't!). Blah blah, it was in its tenth publication. He wanted to give a fuck you to this lady agent who didn't think the stories were ready yet, that they needed more work. Um.... The book is very good. But I don't like the feeling I get from the "great new voice" stuff. I think the book should live as best it can and not worry about being scene changing. What the hell is that, anyway? If you got published and it all worked out, why worry about some lady agent from freaking years ago (but not nearly long enough to be considered a classic).
Anyway, I thought that Alexie should have taken Thomas Builds-the-Fire's advice and live for the now. I really liked Thomas. I got the trying to know how other people felt through stories feeling from him. The inventing your own reasons to live by knowing others around you through imagining what could matter to them. Community type stuff there.
Alexie also wrote in the introduction that his detractors didn't approve of the alcoholism of his stories. I'm totally with him on that just being autobiographical. Do they really think that writing stories about people who drink is the problem in the situation? Really?
My mom was always calling my dad a drunk Indian (he died of drink, as did five of his six brothers. The other surely will do the same). (His father was Cherokee. I'm about as Cherokee as Johnny Depp is, I guess.) That and thinking he had a Jesus beard were my earliest impressions of him. (Not that my mama spared me the abuse stories. She didn't.) My mom might have meant it as a slur. But she STILL sighs over how good looking he was (these days I think he looked like a prototype hipster). My mom would totally be one of those annoying "white people" written about in 'Tonto'.
I did wonder if the introduction bitterness had to do about himself being one of the heroes who made it. That would be a funny feeling. To be a hero...
May 1, 2023
2.5 stars
This is one of those rare books I'm glad I did not find when I first marked it to-read. I would have been alienated by the language. If I didn't dnf early on, I would have skimmed to the end and given it 1 star. I still had to fight the urge. But I'm glad I kept reading.
This isn't a fun collection of short stories. Some are better than others. They are full of language, sex, alcoholism, anger, and desperation.
Perhaps because I read the forward to the 25th anniversary edition that I felt better equipped to tackle those themes. Alexie's reflective tone about how this book came to be really set the stage. It isn't officially a memoir but he does say for all intents and purposes it was. Slightly dramatized stories of daily life.
Not my genre and not my favorite subject. Can't say I recommend. But I'm glad I read it.
This is one of those rare books I'm glad I did not find when I first marked it to-read. I would have been alienated by the language. If I didn't dnf early on, I would have skimmed to the end and given it 1 star. I still had to fight the urge. But I'm glad I kept reading.
This isn't a fun collection of short stories. Some are better than others. They are full of language, sex, alcoholism, anger, and desperation.
Perhaps because I read the forward to the 25th anniversary edition that I felt better equipped to tackle those themes. Alexie's reflective tone about how this book came to be really set the stage. It isn't officially a memoir but he does say for all intents and purposes it was. Slightly dramatized stories of daily life.
Not my genre and not my favorite subject. Can't say I recommend. But I'm glad I read it.
August 4, 2022
about a 3.8 stars
I read Sherman Alexie's The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian and loved every last word of it. It's funny and utterly charming without ever losing sight of the deplorable standard of living on many Native American reservations and the difficulty young Natives have struggling to free themselves from poverty, alcoholism and casual racism.
This collection of interlinking stories is exactly the same.
And I mean exactly the same.
Some of the characters are the same as in "True Diary" and the exact same things happen to them.
Story after story.
Even when Alexie changes style and genre, the basic tone of the pieces are all the same. It's like reading bonus material for "True Diary" and that makes the collection, despite the excellent writing and insights, feel very monotone after a while.
Individually read, many of these stories are top notch pieces! Taken as a group, however, they show Alexie's difficulty veering from his own recurring autobiographical themes to find new material.
Interestingly, Alexie is aware of this. We know, because he even gives us a story in which his own mother calls him on the carpet about it. "Your stories are all so sad. Good things happen to Indians, too." Alexie says he knows, but...
The one story I found most innovative was "The Trial of Thomas Builds-The-Fire" which takes Kafka's "The Trial" and sets it on the Spokane Nation reservation. Works fabulously well to show how mysterious the ways of the BIA (Bureau of Indian Affairs) sometimes seem to the Spokane. (Why is Thomas on trial? Thomas himself is clueless but the white BIA people think it's glaringly obvious.)
If you've never read Alexie and like short stories, this might be one for you. If you'd like a really great novel about modern Native Americans, check out "The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian" and skip this collection.
I read Sherman Alexie's The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian and loved every last word of it. It's funny and utterly charming without ever losing sight of the deplorable standard of living on many Native American reservations and the difficulty young Natives have struggling to free themselves from poverty, alcoholism and casual racism.
This collection of interlinking stories is exactly the same.
And I mean exactly the same.
Some of the characters are the same as in "True Diary" and the exact same things happen to them.
Story after story.
Even when Alexie changes style and genre, the basic tone of the pieces are all the same. It's like reading bonus material for "True Diary" and that makes the collection, despite the excellent writing and insights, feel very monotone after a while.
Individually read, many of these stories are top notch pieces! Taken as a group, however, they show Alexie's difficulty veering from his own recurring autobiographical themes to find new material.
Interestingly, Alexie is aware of this. We know, because he even gives us a story in which his own mother calls him on the carpet about it. "Your stories are all so sad. Good things happen to Indians, too." Alexie says he knows, but...
The one story I found most innovative was "The Trial of Thomas Builds-The-Fire" which takes Kafka's "The Trial" and sets it on the Spokane Nation reservation. Works fabulously well to show how mysterious the ways of the BIA (Bureau of Indian Affairs) sometimes seem to the Spokane. (Why is Thomas on trial? Thomas himself is clueless but the white BIA people think it's glaringly obvious.)
If you've never read Alexie and like short stories, this might be one for you. If you'd like a really great novel about modern Native Americans, check out "The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian" and skip this collection.
May 28, 2008
Alexie's collection of linked short stories is a tale of life on an Indian reservation; it is an exploration of the ways in which Indians deal with the pains and the joys of their lives (storytelling, dance, basketball, food, alcohol); it is a reflection on the relationship between past, present, and future; and it is a meditation on storytelling as a means of bearing witness and as a means of creation and change.
The first story of the collection, "Every Little Hurricane," introduces both the functions of storytelling and the interconnectedness of pain and joy. Told from the perspective of a nine-year-old boy, "Every Little Hurricane" describes a scene at a party in which the young protagonist watches his uncles fight in the yard: "He could see his uncles slugging each other with such force that they had to be in love. Strangers would never want to hurt each other that badly" (2). Immediately, we are shown this connection between hate and love, between the "specific and beautiful" and the "dangerous and random" (5). The young boy, Victor, does not really take part in the action of the story, however. He is merely a witness: "They were all witnesses and nothing more. For hundreds of years, Indians were witnesses to crimes of an epic scale" (3).
The second story, "A Drug Called Tradition," takes up the question of time. Three young Indian men try a new drug together, one that gives them visions of a glorious past (horse stealing, music, dance), only to be warned in the end against the seductive appeal of this past as Thomas tells them "not to slow dance with [their] skeletons" (21). This is explained further: "Your past is a skeleton walking one step behind you, and your future is a skeleton walking one step in front of you" (21) Sometimes these skeletons can trap you or they may try to tempt you, but "what you have to do is keep moving, keep walking, in step with your skeletons. . . . [and] no matter what they do, keep walking, keep moving. And don't wear a watch. Hell, Indians never need to wear a watch because your skeletons will always remind you about the time. See, it is always now. That's what Indian time is. The past, the future, all of it is wrapped up in the now. That's how it is. We are trapped in the now" (22). The past, tradition, can be glorious, Thomas warns the young men, but looking only backward is dangerous; similarly, looking only forward to a potential future is dangerous. Both are dangerous because they prevent a clear vision and an actual experience of the actual, present, real world.
In "Imagining the Reservation," Alexie presents a formula that is key to the entire book. He writes, "Survival = Anger X Imagination. Imagination is the only weapon on the reservation" (150). He notes the limitations of imagination, asking, "Does every Indian depend on Hollywood for a twentieth-century vision?" (151) and "How can we imagine a new language when the language of the enemy keeps our dismembered tongues tied to his belt? How can we imagine a new alphabet when the old jumps off billboards down into our stomachs?" (152). But he also ends the story with a call for more imagination, for imagination that has concrete results:
"There are so many possibilities in the reservation, 7-11, so many methods of survival. Imagine every Skin on the reservation is the new lead guitarist for the Rolling Stones, on the cover of a rock-and-roll magazine. Imagine forgiveness is sold 2 for 1. Imagine every Indian is a video game with braids. Do you believe laughter can save us? All I know is that I count coyotes to help me sleep. Didn't you know? Imagination is the politics of dreams; imagination turns every word into a bottle rocket. Adrian, imagine every day is Independence Day and save us from traveling the river changed; save us from hitchhiking the long road home. Imagine an escape. Imagine that your own shadow on the wall is a perfect door. Imagine a song stronger than penicillin. Imagine a spring with water that mends broken bones. Imagine a drum which wraps itself around your heart. Imagine a story that puts wood in the fireplace." (152-3)
The Lone Ranger and Tonto Fist Fight in Heaven is a book that is not without hope, but it is a hope that is thoroughly aware of what has lost that cannot be regained and of what losses may be sustained in the future. It is a hope that dares not look into the future at the expense of the present or the past. Alexie writes in the final story, "Witnesses, Secret and Not," that "sometimes it seems like all Indians can do is talk about the disappeared" (222), asking "at what point do we just re-create the people who have disappeared from our lives?" (222). At what point is the storytelling and the memory a new creation and what is the cost of this memory and this creation? Imagination--the key component of both this kind of memory and of storytelling--he seems to say, is both a burden and a tool.
The first story of the collection, "Every Little Hurricane," introduces both the functions of storytelling and the interconnectedness of pain and joy. Told from the perspective of a nine-year-old boy, "Every Little Hurricane" describes a scene at a party in which the young protagonist watches his uncles fight in the yard: "He could see his uncles slugging each other with such force that they had to be in love. Strangers would never want to hurt each other that badly" (2). Immediately, we are shown this connection between hate and love, between the "specific and beautiful" and the "dangerous and random" (5). The young boy, Victor, does not really take part in the action of the story, however. He is merely a witness: "They were all witnesses and nothing more. For hundreds of years, Indians were witnesses to crimes of an epic scale" (3).
The second story, "A Drug Called Tradition," takes up the question of time. Three young Indian men try a new drug together, one that gives them visions of a glorious past (horse stealing, music, dance), only to be warned in the end against the seductive appeal of this past as Thomas tells them "not to slow dance with [their] skeletons" (21). This is explained further: "Your past is a skeleton walking one step behind you, and your future is a skeleton walking one step in front of you" (21) Sometimes these skeletons can trap you or they may try to tempt you, but "what you have to do is keep moving, keep walking, in step with your skeletons. . . . [and] no matter what they do, keep walking, keep moving. And don't wear a watch. Hell, Indians never need to wear a watch because your skeletons will always remind you about the time. See, it is always now. That's what Indian time is. The past, the future, all of it is wrapped up in the now. That's how it is. We are trapped in the now" (22). The past, tradition, can be glorious, Thomas warns the young men, but looking only backward is dangerous; similarly, looking only forward to a potential future is dangerous. Both are dangerous because they prevent a clear vision and an actual experience of the actual, present, real world.
In "Imagining the Reservation," Alexie presents a formula that is key to the entire book. He writes, "Survival = Anger X Imagination. Imagination is the only weapon on the reservation" (150). He notes the limitations of imagination, asking, "Does every Indian depend on Hollywood for a twentieth-century vision?" (151) and "How can we imagine a new language when the language of the enemy keeps our dismembered tongues tied to his belt? How can we imagine a new alphabet when the old jumps off billboards down into our stomachs?" (152). But he also ends the story with a call for more imagination, for imagination that has concrete results:
"There are so many possibilities in the reservation, 7-11, so many methods of survival. Imagine every Skin on the reservation is the new lead guitarist for the Rolling Stones, on the cover of a rock-and-roll magazine. Imagine forgiveness is sold 2 for 1. Imagine every Indian is a video game with braids. Do you believe laughter can save us? All I know is that I count coyotes to help me sleep. Didn't you know? Imagination is the politics of dreams; imagination turns every word into a bottle rocket. Adrian, imagine every day is Independence Day and save us from traveling the river changed; save us from hitchhiking the long road home. Imagine an escape. Imagine that your own shadow on the wall is a perfect door. Imagine a song stronger than penicillin. Imagine a spring with water that mends broken bones. Imagine a drum which wraps itself around your heart. Imagine a story that puts wood in the fireplace." (152-3)
The Lone Ranger and Tonto Fist Fight in Heaven is a book that is not without hope, but it is a hope that is thoroughly aware of what has lost that cannot be regained and of what losses may be sustained in the future. It is a hope that dares not look into the future at the expense of the present or the past. Alexie writes in the final story, "Witnesses, Secret and Not," that "sometimes it seems like all Indians can do is talk about the disappeared" (222), asking "at what point do we just re-create the people who have disappeared from our lives?" (222). At what point is the storytelling and the memory a new creation and what is the cost of this memory and this creation? Imagination--the key component of both this kind of memory and of storytelling--he seems to say, is both a burden and a tool.
June 24, 2022
The movie Smoke Signals introduces me to this book and it’s author. That movie, loosely based on stories from this book, was first rate. It touched on the themes of despair and sadness endemic to Reservation life, but in no way prepared me for the dark, brooding, bitterness that lies coiled like a snake ready to strike at the heart of Alexie's prose. He has distilled five hundred years of his culture's losing battle against the interlopers who have replaced them in their own land down into a powerful, bitter prose that rivals that of the greatest and grimmest of Russian novels.
If this was all there was to this book, The Lone Ranger and Tonto Fistfight in Heaven would have a limited appeal at best. But there is so much more here. Alexie's talent at creating characters rivals that of Dickens — the residents of the Reservation whom he introduces in these short stories will stay in your imagination forever. His sense of humor and comic timing are just as deft as his skill at emoting bitterness and despair, something that helps to soften the blow of his grim vision allowing us to appreciate its bitter beauty.
These stories feel as raw and honest as anything that I have ever read. To the point of pain. Alexie has taken that pain and reshaped it into something beautiful and wonderful, and provided a window into his world.
After reading this book, Sherman Alexie joined the list of my favorite authors. He is a master talent who deserves a place in the American pantheon of writers. He was a wonderful discovery, and if you have not yet experienced his work, well then, get to it!
If this was all there was to this book, The Lone Ranger and Tonto Fistfight in Heaven would have a limited appeal at best. But there is so much more here. Alexie's talent at creating characters rivals that of Dickens — the residents of the Reservation whom he introduces in these short stories will stay in your imagination forever. His sense of humor and comic timing are just as deft as his skill at emoting bitterness and despair, something that helps to soften the blow of his grim vision allowing us to appreciate its bitter beauty.
These stories feel as raw and honest as anything that I have ever read. To the point of pain. Alexie has taken that pain and reshaped it into something beautiful and wonderful, and provided a window into his world.
After reading this book, Sherman Alexie joined the list of my favorite authors. He is a master talent who deserves a place in the American pantheon of writers. He was a wonderful discovery, and if you have not yet experienced his work, well then, get to it!
September 12, 2024
🪶🪶 This became the movie Smoke Signals which is a significant film about two indigenous friends and their experiences surrounding the death of one of the friend’s father. The book, like the film, is laced with humor and tragedy and native spirituality. Recommended.
July 9, 2017
This is one of his earlier short story collections, and I think Sherman Alexie definitely got better at writing later on in his career. Several of the stories here left me skimming because I was confused, bored or both. Some ended too abruptly. In some, it felt like Alexie was going a bit too experimental on the structure and I got lost.
But most of the stories were so excellent. That's why short story collections are so hard to review, for me, because they can be pretty uneven or inconsistent like this one. The second half in the collection had much better stories than the first half. I like the stories that had Thomas Builds-the-Fire, especially the "Phoenix, Arizona" story. The first story ("Every Little Hurricane") was a great opening story, the one with that crazy-long title (the longest one) that mentions Jimi Hendrix at Woodstock was also good.
The standouts to me are "Imagining the Reservation," the "My favourite tumor" story, the titular story, and "Witnesses, Secret and Not".
I find Sherman Alexie a remarkable and special writer because of how he blends sharp humour with the realism of life as a Native American, on a reservation. His humour is so self-aware and not too serious to be a satire, such that I can actually enjoy thinking about the real political and cultural issues behind each story. Even if the characters don't seem to have hope, I want to hope for them. That's really rare and so skilfully done here.
But most of the stories were so excellent. That's why short story collections are so hard to review, for me, because they can be pretty uneven or inconsistent like this one. The second half in the collection had much better stories than the first half. I like the stories that had Thomas Builds-the-Fire, especially the "Phoenix, Arizona" story. The first story ("Every Little Hurricane") was a great opening story, the one with that crazy-long title (the longest one) that mentions Jimi Hendrix at Woodstock was also good.
The standouts to me are "Imagining the Reservation," the "My favourite tumor" story, the titular story, and "Witnesses, Secret and Not".
I find Sherman Alexie a remarkable and special writer because of how he blends sharp humour with the realism of life as a Native American, on a reservation. His humour is so self-aware and not too serious to be a satire, such that I can actually enjoy thinking about the real political and cultural issues behind each story. Even if the characters don't seem to have hope, I want to hope for them. That's really rare and so skilfully done here.
December 20, 2018
The Lone Ranger and Tonto Fistfight in Heaven by Sherman Alexie
Many years ago I worked in a hub for indigenous peoples and storytellers from all over the world, and I think they taught me a lot—most of it not through ordinary words. Whether they were Native Americans or African shamans or People of the South American Forests or Aboriginal Australians, the thing they had in common was an inclusive view of all life: everything is alive; there is no division between all that is life or between incarnate and spirit. In white people's terms: there is no difference between metaphor and common reality, dreamland or awake time, imagination and history; they are one, in one flow, and interchangeable.
Although The Lone Ranger and Tonto Fistfight in Heaven is an uneven collection of short stories (some immaturely written, others mature), what I appreciate is that Sherman Alexie wrote "straight," sharing life on the reservation and his people and their point of view without explaining or in any way trying to package it for white culture. Some stories are pure expressions of despair; some are funny; some are like free-verse poetry, and all of them express what it is to live in white culture but to be made in and of a culture that has been assaulted for centuries, a culture that sees things differently so that one's experiences are different. This alone makes this book worth reading and learning from—even if you can't follow things like a man becoming a pony in the 1800s and then floating around in time.
Many years ago I worked in a hub for indigenous peoples and storytellers from all over the world, and I think they taught me a lot—most of it not through ordinary words. Whether they were Native Americans or African shamans or People of the South American Forests or Aboriginal Australians, the thing they had in common was an inclusive view of all life: everything is alive; there is no division between all that is life or between incarnate and spirit. In white people's terms: there is no difference between metaphor and common reality, dreamland or awake time, imagination and history; they are one, in one flow, and interchangeable.
Although The Lone Ranger and Tonto Fistfight in Heaven is an uneven collection of short stories (some immaturely written, others mature), what I appreciate is that Sherman Alexie wrote "straight," sharing life on the reservation and his people and their point of view without explaining or in any way trying to package it for white culture. Some stories are pure expressions of despair; some are funny; some are like free-verse poetry, and all of them express what it is to live in white culture but to be made in and of a culture that has been assaulted for centuries, a culture that sees things differently so that one's experiences are different. This alone makes this book worth reading and learning from—even if you can't follow things like a man becoming a pony in the 1800s and then floating around in time.
The reservation doesn't sing anymore but the songs still hang in the air. Every molecule waits for a drumbeat; every element dreams lyrics. Today I am walking between water, two parts hydrogen, one part oxygen, and the energy expelled is named Forgiveness.
(p. 150, "Imagining the Reservation")
February 22, 2014
OMG... So glad that I'm done with this book!
February 14, 2025
3.25 stars
Meh 🤷♂️ ...
it had its moments.
Meh 🤷♂️ ...
it had its moments.
January 6, 2008
Maybe Alexie's best book--rough and eloquent, sweet and brutal, smoky and colorful and moving, always honest--made we want to write so bad it hurt. I found it in City Lights in SF when I was on a $300 Tercel-no-air-conditioning but a pup tent honeymoon. It's a book I always go back to. Have been following his work since...god, a long time. First went to a fiction panel he was on at Writers@Work, then in bright white Park City. My husband was the only native in the audience, maybe in the building, maybe in Park City. "Everything I write, I write to spite the white people who had set me up to fail," he says...an opening of sorts. White people in audience said things like, "If I want to learn about Native Americans, I go to white people because they're objective and unbiased. HOly mother of god. I live on the same planet with these people? And we're stuck within the same atmosphere, you say? But Alexie held his own with the little chimps, and we (David and I) had a new hero. At one point, white-guy-with-cough-cherokee-grandma said "I once sat in a ceremonial circle with ten traditional Lakota medicine men" and Alexie says, "If you once sat in a circle with ten traditional Lakota medicine men, they were neither Lakota nor traditional." Or SOMETHING like that...don't quote me on it. Hubby and I were in love with Alexie immediately and forever. Of course, I already had a good start, having read Lone Ranger...oh! and poetry before that, I think, still in Moscow Idaho, I think...
But I'm still reading his most recent. Over the long long long holidays my husband read ABSOLUTELY TRUE DIARY... on his side of the bed while I read THEIR EYES WERE WATCHING GOD on mine. Our conversations (just not with each other): Oh. Oh! Oh, god. Fuck me. Oh my fucking god. Amazing. So beautiful. One more. One more paragraph. Wow. One more page. Just one, one, one, one... Had to turn the radio on so our children wouldn't hear. Too stunned for sex, we'd just try to sleep like that--book closed finally, knowing we've got too much work to do a.m., looking at the ceiling anyhow, hands buzzing, head buzzing, thinking of all the lovely possibilities and tongues of phrase. Thinking of all we could let go of to find that thing Alexie found or Zora found...that evocative elixir that makes you want to simultaneously die and live and pull like taffy (not like THAT...I'm a girl, nothing to pull but the longitudes themselves), then just slice off that way quietly, left to think ourselves to bliss. But now it's my turn for ABSOLUTELY TRUE. So, good night.
But I'm still reading his most recent. Over the long long long holidays my husband read ABSOLUTELY TRUE DIARY... on his side of the bed while I read THEIR EYES WERE WATCHING GOD on mine. Our conversations (just not with each other): Oh. Oh! Oh, god. Fuck me. Oh my fucking god. Amazing. So beautiful. One more. One more paragraph. Wow. One more page. Just one, one, one, one... Had to turn the radio on so our children wouldn't hear. Too stunned for sex, we'd just try to sleep like that--book closed finally, knowing we've got too much work to do a.m., looking at the ceiling anyhow, hands buzzing, head buzzing, thinking of all the lovely possibilities and tongues of phrase. Thinking of all we could let go of to find that thing Alexie found or Zora found...that evocative elixir that makes you want to simultaneously die and live and pull like taffy (not like THAT...I'm a girl, nothing to pull but the longitudes themselves), then just slice off that way quietly, left to think ourselves to bliss. But now it's my turn for ABSOLUTELY TRUE. So, good night.
December 12, 2014
Alexie has had a long and illustrious writing career. This book of short stories was written when he was just a "promising" poet. The new edition celebrating its 25th anniversary contains an interview with the author. It is notable for the humor of a man who never expected to be noticed as a writer.
The book is an amazing vehicle for Alexie's anger with: clever word-play, humor, mystic imagery, and poignant situations dramatizing the clash of cultures.
Selected quotations to give you a sense of Alexie's prose:
"They fought each other with the kind of graceful anger that only love can create. Still, their love was passionate, unpredictable, and selfish."
"It's hard to be optimistic on the reservation. When a glass sits on a table here, people don't wonder if it's half filled or half empty. They just hope it's good beer."
"I thought she was so beautiful. I figured she was the kind of woman who could make buffalo walk on up to her and give up their lives."
"I laughed some more, quiet for a second, then laughed a little longer because it was the right thing to do."
"While my aunt held her baby close to her chest, the doctor tied her tubes, with the permission slip my aunt signed because the hospital administrator lied and said it proved her Indian status for the BIA."
"....I used to sleep with my books in piles all over my bed and sometimes they were the only thing keeping me warm and always the only thing keeping me alive. Books and beer are the best and worst defense."
""You know what you should do? You should write a story about something good, a real good story." "Why?" " Because people should know that good things always happen to Indians, too.""
""Jimmy," Norma said. "Stop. It's not funny." But I didn't stop. Then or now. Still, you have to realize that laughter saved Norma and me from pain, too. Humor was an antiseptic that cleaned the deepest of personal wounds."
The book is an amazing vehicle for Alexie's anger with: clever word-play, humor, mystic imagery, and poignant situations dramatizing the clash of cultures.
Selected quotations to give you a sense of Alexie's prose:
"They fought each other with the kind of graceful anger that only love can create. Still, their love was passionate, unpredictable, and selfish."
"It's hard to be optimistic on the reservation. When a glass sits on a table here, people don't wonder if it's half filled or half empty. They just hope it's good beer."
"I thought she was so beautiful. I figured she was the kind of woman who could make buffalo walk on up to her and give up their lives."
"I laughed some more, quiet for a second, then laughed a little longer because it was the right thing to do."
"While my aunt held her baby close to her chest, the doctor tied her tubes, with the permission slip my aunt signed because the hospital administrator lied and said it proved her Indian status for the BIA."
"....I used to sleep with my books in piles all over my bed and sometimes they were the only thing keeping me warm and always the only thing keeping me alive. Books and beer are the best and worst defense."
""You know what you should do? You should write a story about something good, a real good story." "Why?" " Because people should know that good things always happen to Indians, too.""
""Jimmy," Norma said. "Stop. It's not funny." But I didn't stop. Then or now. Still, you have to realize that laughter saved Norma and me from pain, too. Humor was an antiseptic that cleaned the deepest of personal wounds."
December 31, 2014
A lightning fast read, and very powerful short stories about what it is to be 'Indian,' and one of the greatest and most tragic collections of short stories I have read (Which is a feat in itself). The prose is breathtaking and so very, very, sorrowful. The lamentations of a decimated, dying, destroyed people robbed of their land, culture, and heritage. I'll most definitely be reading more of his work. If you haven't pondered the spiritual torment of the Native American people, this book can put you in touch with a sliver of their loss; if only because the loss is immeasurable.
February 20, 2015
I was rooting for this one - really, I was. It's about Native Americans on the reservation, for crying out loud. You have to root for the underdog! I was trying so hard to care.
Well, I stopped caring. It was hard to make heads or tails of most of the stories, and even when I did, they didn't go anywhere. Maybe that was the point, but I didn't like it.
Well, I stopped caring. It was hard to make heads or tails of most of the stories, and even when I did, they didn't go anywhere. Maybe that was the point, but I didn't like it.
January 6, 2008
Sherman Alexie can flat-out write, but this book, while strong, is uneven. There are some stunning, beautiful passages along with some standard early-career passages. I liked the book enough to read more Alexie, but I don't see myself pulling it back off the shelf too often.
March 2, 2018
"The Lone Ranger and Tonto Fistfight in Heaven" is one of Sherman Alexie's first collections of short stories. The collection deals with the lives and troubles of Indian in and around the Spokane Indian Reservation. The stories also deal with characters that Alexie would later revisit in his novel "Reservation Blues" (specifically, Thomas Builds-the-Fire, Victor, and Junior).
In a 1996 interview with Tomson Highway, Alexie explains a bit about the title of this collection: "Kemosabe in Apache means "idiot," as Tonto in Spanish means "idiot." They were calling each other "idiot" all those years; and they both were, so it worked out. It's always going to be antagonistic relationship between indigenous people and the colonial people. I think the theme of The Lone Ranger and Tonto Fistfight in Heaven is universal."
This universal theme permeates many of Alexie's stories here and in his other writings. The stories take a fresh, sometimes painful, look at life for modern Indians on the Spokane Reservation. Alcoholism, violence, and death all permeate this collection. At the same time, Alexie brings an extreme level of humor and compassion to these characters, making their hardships bearable to the reader.
The stories here mostly interconnect, referring to the same events or at least the same characters, creating a narrative that almost flows between stories. Exceptions to this flow include "Distances." "Witnesses, Secret and Not" and "Jesus Christ's Half-Brother Is Alive and Well on the Spokane Indian Reservation" also seem disconnected but remain similar in style to the rest of the collection. A follow up to "The Business of Fancydancing," a collection of short stories and poems, the stories in this collection alternate between a poetic style and a more conventional prose style.
The characters in these stories have not reached "happily ever after," it is not clear if they will ever get there. Sometimes, the characters are at fault for these failures. At other times they are victims of circumstances far beyond their control. Regardless of the reason, Alexie portrays his characters with compassion and the hope that they will one day succeed. Even Victor, a drunk continuously falling off the wagon, and Lester FallsApart (whose name might say everything) are presented with a certain dignity and afforded a degree of respect throughout the stories.
When writing about such modern problems as car wrecks and alcoholism, there is always the risk of being too serious, too tragic. In "A Good Story" Alexie acknowledges this fact when his self-proclaimed storyteller, Thomas Builds-the-Fire, goes out of his way to tell a happy story.
Other stories remain less concerned with themes discussed and instead are focused on presenting rich narratives. One favorite is "The Only Traffic Signal on the Reservation Doesn't Flash Red Anymore" in which Victor and his friend watch reservation life from their porch while drinking Diet Pepsis. However, bar none, the best stories in this collection are the title story and "Somebody Kept Saying Powwow." Both stories are as evocative and compelling as any novel. Furthermore, in each story Alexie creates characters that are unique, well-developed and completely absorbing--no easy feat for stories of around ten pages.
"The Lone Ranger and Tonto Fistfight in Heaven" does two important things. First, it illustrates Sherman Alexie's wide range of talents as a writer. Second, it tells a lot of good stories.
You can find this review and more on my blog Miss Print
In a 1996 interview with Tomson Highway, Alexie explains a bit about the title of this collection: "Kemosabe in Apache means "idiot," as Tonto in Spanish means "idiot." They were calling each other "idiot" all those years; and they both were, so it worked out. It's always going to be antagonistic relationship between indigenous people and the colonial people. I think the theme of The Lone Ranger and Tonto Fistfight in Heaven is universal."
This universal theme permeates many of Alexie's stories here and in his other writings. The stories take a fresh, sometimes painful, look at life for modern Indians on the Spokane Reservation. Alcoholism, violence, and death all permeate this collection. At the same time, Alexie brings an extreme level of humor and compassion to these characters, making their hardships bearable to the reader.
The stories here mostly interconnect, referring to the same events or at least the same characters, creating a narrative that almost flows between stories. Exceptions to this flow include "Distances." "Witnesses, Secret and Not" and "Jesus Christ's Half-Brother Is Alive and Well on the Spokane Indian Reservation" also seem disconnected but remain similar in style to the rest of the collection. A follow up to "The Business of Fancydancing," a collection of short stories and poems, the stories in this collection alternate between a poetic style and a more conventional prose style.
The characters in these stories have not reached "happily ever after," it is not clear if they will ever get there. Sometimes, the characters are at fault for these failures. At other times they are victims of circumstances far beyond their control. Regardless of the reason, Alexie portrays his characters with compassion and the hope that they will one day succeed. Even Victor, a drunk continuously falling off the wagon, and Lester FallsApart (whose name might say everything) are presented with a certain dignity and afforded a degree of respect throughout the stories.
When writing about such modern problems as car wrecks and alcoholism, there is always the risk of being too serious, too tragic. In "A Good Story" Alexie acknowledges this fact when his self-proclaimed storyteller, Thomas Builds-the-Fire, goes out of his way to tell a happy story.
Other stories remain less concerned with themes discussed and instead are focused on presenting rich narratives. One favorite is "The Only Traffic Signal on the Reservation Doesn't Flash Red Anymore" in which Victor and his friend watch reservation life from their porch while drinking Diet Pepsis. However, bar none, the best stories in this collection are the title story and "Somebody Kept Saying Powwow." Both stories are as evocative and compelling as any novel. Furthermore, in each story Alexie creates characters that are unique, well-developed and completely absorbing--no easy feat for stories of around ten pages.
"The Lone Ranger and Tonto Fistfight in Heaven" does two important things. First, it illustrates Sherman Alexie's wide range of talents as a writer. Second, it tells a lot of good stories.
You can find this review and more on my blog Miss Print
March 27, 2018
This collection of short stories from 1993 is a poignant collage of Native American life on the reservation. Anyone who has seen the movie Smoke Signals (the screenplay of which written by Alexie) will recognize characters and events taken from various stories in the collection, though he freely adapted which characters did and said which things for the movie. And characters who play only minor roles in the movie take on more substantial parts in the short-story collection.
I loved this book—the heart in it, the quiet desperation, the perseverance and hope, and the writing itself. The style in different stories ranged from naturalistic to near-post-modern. And when Alexie combines pathos with beautiful prose, it’s really wonderful. An example: “Victor imagined that his father’s tears could have frozen solid in the severe reservation winters and shattered when they hit the floor. Sent millions of icy knives through the air, each specific and beautiful. Each dangerous and random.” And another example, this one taken from a drug-fueled dream:
“When I finally come close to the beautiful black pony, I stand up straight and touch his nose, his mane.
“I have come for you, I tell the horse, and he moves against me, knows it is true. I mount him and ride silently through the camp, right in front of a blind man who smells us pass by and thinks we are just a pleasant memory. When he finds out the next day who we really were, he will remain haunted and crowded the rest of his life.
“I am riding that pony across the open plain, in the moonlight that makes everything a shadow.
“What’s your name? I ask the horse, and he rears back on his hind legs. He pulls air deep into his lungs and rises above the ground.
“Flight, he tells me, my name is Flight.”
There is no greater crime in the history of America than the near genocide perpetuated by people of European descent on Native American peoples. In this collection of stories, Sherman Alexie offers a razor-sharp critique without rancor, with pathos and humor. In a line of descent from other Native American writers, including Louise Erdrich, N. Scott Momaday, and Leslie Marmon Silko, Alexie tries to make sense of the present in the context of a past that has been smothered under layers of revisionist art and history. The voices of these writers are beautiful and deeply threatening, challenging our ideas of who we are and what we have done to become that thing we think we are.
I loved this book—the heart in it, the quiet desperation, the perseverance and hope, and the writing itself. The style in different stories ranged from naturalistic to near-post-modern. And when Alexie combines pathos with beautiful prose, it’s really wonderful. An example: “Victor imagined that his father’s tears could have frozen solid in the severe reservation winters and shattered when they hit the floor. Sent millions of icy knives through the air, each specific and beautiful. Each dangerous and random.” And another example, this one taken from a drug-fueled dream:
“When I finally come close to the beautiful black pony, I stand up straight and touch his nose, his mane.
“I have come for you, I tell the horse, and he moves against me, knows it is true. I mount him and ride silently through the camp, right in front of a blind man who smells us pass by and thinks we are just a pleasant memory. When he finds out the next day who we really were, he will remain haunted and crowded the rest of his life.
“I am riding that pony across the open plain, in the moonlight that makes everything a shadow.
“What’s your name? I ask the horse, and he rears back on his hind legs. He pulls air deep into his lungs and rises above the ground.
“Flight, he tells me, my name is Flight.”
There is no greater crime in the history of America than the near genocide perpetuated by people of European descent on Native American peoples. In this collection of stories, Sherman Alexie offers a razor-sharp critique without rancor, with pathos and humor. In a line of descent from other Native American writers, including Louise Erdrich, N. Scott Momaday, and Leslie Marmon Silko, Alexie tries to make sense of the present in the context of a past that has been smothered under layers of revisionist art and history. The voices of these writers are beautiful and deeply threatening, challenging our ideas of who we are and what we have done to become that thing we think we are.
April 18, 2021
These were my favorites from Alexie’s collection of 24 short stories that he published in 1993 under the The Lone Ranger and Tonto Fistfight in Heaven. Alexis is an exceptional writer who has won many awards. This is one of his earlier works but remains popular today.
1. Because My Father Always Said He Was The Only Indian Who Saw Jimi Hendrix Play ‘The Star Spangled Banner’ At Woodstock
2. Indian Education
3. The Lone Ranger and Tonto Fistfight in Heaven
4. Witnesses, Secret and Not
5. Junior Polatkin’s Wild West Show
All of the stories in this book are about youth or young adulthood. Not only are they all relatable but some are highly poignant. The stories feature the alienation and isolation associated with being a young Native American. It is a common thread that connects all the stories even though the names and locations often change.
5 stars
1. Because My Father Always Said He Was The Only Indian Who Saw Jimi Hendrix Play ‘The Star Spangled Banner’ At Woodstock
2. Indian Education
3. The Lone Ranger and Tonto Fistfight in Heaven
4. Witnesses, Secret and Not
5. Junior Polatkin’s Wild West Show
All of the stories in this book are about youth or young adulthood. Not only are they all relatable but some are highly poignant. The stories feature the alienation and isolation associated with being a young Native American. It is a common thread that connects all the stories even though the names and locations often change.
5 stars
May 18, 2012
Sherman Alexie writes about the real. When the real becomes too real, it transforms into the magical. And vice versa.
February 12, 2018
Emulating my Goodreads and blog friend, Buried in Print, I stretched out my reading of this short story collection for almost a month! I didn't blow through it like a novel, which had been my short story habit before. I LOVED this collection, savoring my daily story. It's got that Alexie mix of sad and funny, full of quirky details, some mundane, some magical. Each story is an exploration of being an Indian (Alexie's term) in America, both on the reservation and off. Lots of broken families and broken dreams, but also love, basketball glory, dancing, and delicious fry bread. I re-watched the movie "Smoke Signals," which is based on a story here, and it was good, as I remembered it. If you've never read an Alexie story, you really need to pick this up.
April 30, 2020
I am so happy I ended the year and met my goal with this book. This has very easily become one of my favorite books ever.
There is nothing like reading something that was written with emotion behind it. The last time I read something similar was Just Kids by Patti Smith, but where JK was written with nothing but love, Alexie writes with anger. The emotion is raw and his poetic nature shines right through a short story collection. I loved every single story.
I bought this at a used book sale for 2 dollars and I can't believe anyone would give this book up, but I guess I'm glad they did because I loved it. 5/5
There is nothing like reading something that was written with emotion behind it. The last time I read something similar was Just Kids by Patti Smith, but where JK was written with nothing but love, Alexie writes with anger. The emotion is raw and his poetic nature shines right through a short story collection. I loved every single story.
I bought this at a used book sale for 2 dollars and I can't believe anyone would give this book up, but I guess I'm glad they did because I loved it. 5/5
August 27, 2019
Alexie became one of my top ten after the first story I read out of this collection. The rawness and vulnerability in Alexie's voice lend gorgeously to the stories of life on the reservation. So many of his pieces, while revealing the reality of his characters' lives, also allow a glimpse of the humor and camaraderie that sustains them. Read this book, if you're in the mood for beauty, tragedy, and comedy.
September 12, 2024
Funny, sad, tragic, inspired, bittersweet reservation realism.
There's a lot going on in these stories and this brilliant collection is worth rereading. To be funny and sad at the same time is a real accomplishment.
There's a lot going on in these stories and this brilliant collection is worth rereading. To be funny and sad at the same time is a real accomplishment.
June 30, 2023
Three stars or less for about half of the stories, a resounding five stars for about the other half.
August 3, 2014
It really isn't fair of me to rate or review this book, because it is very clearly not written for me. It's like asking your 100 year old grandmother to review a Metallica concert. Like asking your six year old to review sashimi. Like asking your husband to rate the pain of childbirth. Like asking a white woman to review the stories of a Native American man.
The Lone Ranger and Tonto Fistfight in Heaven is a collection of short stories about the experiences of various Spokane Indians living on the Spokane Indian Reservation. In many cases the stories don't appear to be very literal. There is quite a poetic element that runs through them, and in my opinion you almost have to be Native American to be able to penetrate the meaning behind Sherman Alexie's words. I can tell that the stories are saying something, and that they have resonance. But the story running through stories isn't for my ears, not for my eyes. I am an outsider to it, and I can't penetrate them to arrive at the deeper meaning or comment.
I can't even say for sure whether or not I enjoyed the book. Certainly I enjoyed some of the characters. Thomas Builds-the-Fire, Norma Many Horses, and Victor were all fascinating. Certainly there was depression and passion in the stories. But that's like saying, "I like the cover of that book," but never opening it and reading it, or opening it only to find out it's in a language you can't understand.
The Lone Ranger and Tonto Fistfight in Heaven is a collection of short stories about the experiences of various Spokane Indians living on the Spokane Indian Reservation. In many cases the stories don't appear to be very literal. There is quite a poetic element that runs through them, and in my opinion you almost have to be Native American to be able to penetrate the meaning behind Sherman Alexie's words. I can tell that the stories are saying something, and that they have resonance. But the story running through stories isn't for my ears, not for my eyes. I am an outsider to it, and I can't penetrate them to arrive at the deeper meaning or comment.
I can't even say for sure whether or not I enjoyed the book. Certainly I enjoyed some of the characters. Thomas Builds-the-Fire, Norma Many Horses, and Victor were all fascinating. Certainly there was depression and passion in the stories. But that's like saying, "I like the cover of that book," but never opening it and reading it, or opening it only to find out it's in a language you can't understand.
April 17, 2011
A tepid 3 stars for this collection. A friend at work is an Alexie fan, and when I came across this book for 50 cents at the library, I picked it up. None of the stories were bad, some were quite good, but I never connected with any of them emotionally, and too many felt self-consciously contrived.
There were two moments of connection, however, that make me willing to read more Alexie and just pushed this volume into the 3-star range.
The first one comes up in "Because My Father Always Said He Was the Only Indian Who Saw Jimi Hendrix Play 'The Star-Spangled Banner' at Woodstock," where Alexie writes: "'I guess. Your father just likes being alone more than he likes being with other people. Even me and you.'" (p. 34)
The second connection occurred in "Witnesses, Secret and Not": "Anyway, there we were, my father and I, silent as hell while the car fancydanced across the ice. At age thirteen, nobody thinks they're going to die, so that wasn't my worry. But my father was forty-one and that's about the age that I figure a man starts to think about dying. Or starts to accept it as inevitable." (p. 213)
There were two moments of connection, however, that make me willing to read more Alexie and just pushed this volume into the 3-star range.
The first one comes up in "Because My Father Always Said He Was the Only Indian Who Saw Jimi Hendrix Play 'The Star-Spangled Banner' at Woodstock," where Alexie writes: "'I guess. Your father just likes being alone more than he likes being with other people. Even me and you.'" (p. 34)
The second connection occurred in "Witnesses, Secret and Not": "Anyway, there we were, my father and I, silent as hell while the car fancydanced across the ice. At age thirteen, nobody thinks they're going to die, so that wasn't my worry. But my father was forty-one and that's about the age that I figure a man starts to think about dying. Or starts to accept it as inevitable." (p. 213)
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