A very intriguing work of historical fiction. Lasalle's prose is a bit clunky at times, particularly in the first sixty pages, but the book gathers momentum as it progresses, and by the final pages is an engrossing narrative. Lasalle seeks to portray Washington State's history with all its complexities. His nineteenth-century setting features the British and Americans squaring off for control of the Washington territory, with a few Spanish, Russian, and Portuguese merchants trying to find wealth too. Meanwhile, a handful of free black communities exist along the coast, and the myriad Native American tribes struggle for a foothold in increasingly limited lands not colonized by whites. Lasalle shows the prejudices of all factions – the British and Americans have little use for the native peoples, and many of the native tribes react with fury when white expeditions destroy their villages. Lasalle packs much of the political and social history into the first sixty pages, which are nearly dialogue-free and heavy on psychological exploration. Again, the prose isn't always melodic, but Lasalle establishes a fascinating historical world.
Lasalle also excels at characterization. Isaac Evers takes a patronizing view toward the Native Americans and doesn't understand his wife, Emmy, yet loves her all the same. Emmy Evers is chafing under the limited opportunities available to frontier women and resents Isaac's long absences. The Native warrior Anah is deeply traumatized by the war crimes that other natives and whites commit against his tribe, and his rage turns him into a vicious, preening killer. Conversely, the Native warrior nicknamed Jojo is a deeply moral man, and he and his father try to avoid the colonial bloodbath unfolding around them. Finally, the real-life soldier George Pickett, grieving for his deceased Native American wife and still five years away from his heroic actions at Gettysburg, expresses deep regret at the racial tensions between white settlers and Native Americans. I don't know how realistic Lasalle's portrayal of Pickett is, but the Pickett of this novel is a world-weary man who carries out his military duties to the best of his ability, yet laments that he has to be on the frontline of grueling territorial battles. Pickett is the moral center of the book, imagining a world without racial violence, even as the events in Washington make such a peace impossible.
On a meta level, this book is about greed – the greed of white settlers who stole lands from Native Americans across two continents. Anah is a monstrous villain, yes, but he is not the stereotyped villain of 1930s-era Westerns (although Lasalle twice, in the book's final pages, uses the word "savage," and although he's trying to convey how whites see Anah, the word's appearance is discomfiting). Anah (re)acts the way he does because he has seen the existential threats that outsiders pose to his community. When slavers kidnap his sisters, he is humiliated that he is not strong enough to rescue them; his humiliation leads to violence, and ironically he becomes a kidnapper himself. Similarly, when the British deliberately infect the Native coastal villages with smallpox, and Anah is one of the only survivors, Anah becomes even more resentful of the outside world. His attack on the Evers household and the kidnapping of young Jacob Evers is wrong – something that Jojo readily acknowledges, when he aids the Evers family in rescuing the boy – yet from Anah's perspective he is simply responding in kind to the hand he's been dealt.
The "Widow Walk" that Emmy makes into the north to save her son is likewise a calculated response to hatred. Thanks to Jojo, Emmy warms to (some of) the natives, but she still resents the region that has taken so much from her. The conversation she shares with Pickett at the novel's end, where both acknowledge the gathering clouds of the American Civil War, and both realize that their friendship cannot endure in this rapidly changing landscape, rings with deep truth. Lasalle creates a thrilling adventure story and a family fable against a deeply pessimistic background. No matter what plays out between Jojo, the Evers clan, and Anah, the natives' freedom is rapidly vanishing. The white British and Americans are implacable in their greed for more land. Even localized abolition for blacks cannot stop the destruction of native civilizations.
This book isn't perfect – see my previous acknowledgments of a few questionable word choices and rough prose – but its ambition, fascinating characters, revisionist portrayal of American history, and haunting final ten pages make "Widow Walk" very much worth a read. I will not easily forget this one.