The Indian Wars Today (2012)
Alexie, Sherman (1995). Reservation Blues. New York: Warner Books. 306 pages.
I confess immediately that I am a huge fan of Sherman Alexie and I think this book is an artistic masterpiece. I acknowledge that most of my friends do not share my opinion. Okay, that's out of the way.
Each chapter opens with lyrics from a song. The first is from Alexie’s imaginary (as far as I know) song, Reservation Blues: “Dancing all alone, feeling nothing good, It’s been so long since someone understood.” That summaries the theme, tone, and mood of the novel.
After the epigram lyrics, Chapter 1 starts with the line, “In the one hundred and eleven years since the creation of the Spokane Indian Reservation in 1881, not one person, Indian or otherwise, had ever arrived there by accident.”
And those two lines neatly sum up the theme of Reservation Blues. It’s a heartfelt confession of a reservation Indian boy and his comrades. Alexie is now very much an “urban Indian,” of course, a world-renown and much-honored writer. But this book tries to show what life on the reservation was like, and still is like, for many people. Despite some shortcomings, it succeeds admirably.
The opening imagery is fantastic, and sets the tone. Robert Johnson, legendary blues guitarist, is standing at a crossroads on the reservation, waiting. The young protagonist and narrator, Thomas Builds-the-Fire finds him there. Johnson seems sick and hurt, and Thomas offers to help. He considers taking him to the Indian Health Service, but then remembers they just give out dental floss and condoms, which wouldn’t be of any use. Instead he offers to take him to Big Mom, an enormous Indian woman who lives in a cabin atop a mountain. Johnson believes that would be a good idea because he has had dreams of such a woman, someone who could reverse the bargain he made with the devil, selling his soul in exchange for his otherwordly ability to play the guitar.
The episode refers to the Faustian “Crossroads Legend” around Johnson (who died in 1938 at age 27): He met the devil at a crossroads (in Mississippi), and made the deal. The devil tuned his guitar for him and Johnson became a great player.
Keying off this opening scene, Alexie develops a story in which Johnson gives Thomas his magical guitar, who gives it to his friend Victor, a drunken lout who suddenly, though intermittently, becomes able to play fantastic blues. They recruit another friend, Junior, and form a band, Coyote Springs. Thomas is the bass player and the “story-teller” (songwriter). They’re a terrible band, but the Indians on the rez appreciate them when they play in an abandoned grocery store.
After a few local gigs, they get an audition with a record label in New York. Big Mom warns them not to go, but they have ambition and crave success. The talent scouts, Wright and Sheridan, buy the airline tickets for the band, which now includes two young Indian women (named Chess and Checkers), who were groupies but joined as backup singers.
It’s worth noting that “Wright” is the name of the U.S. Cavalry officer who led the 1858 Indian Wars campaign that defeated the Spokane Indians, and “Sheridan” is the U.S. Army officer who famously declared that ‘The only good Indian is a dead Indian.’ Alexie is fond of inserting subtle cultural and historical references into his tale.
So Coyote Springs goes to the Big Apple, but the audition becomes a disaster when the magical guitar “turns” on Victor, attacking him. For trying to sell out to the whites, perhaps? The group returns to the rez, failures, but the tribe resents them for having left at all. Why did they try to sell their souls to the whites? Who did they think they were, attempting to have a successful life off the reservation? The mood turns dark.
Meanwhile, Robert Johnson is rehabilitated by Big Mom, although details are sparse. After that dramatic opening scene, the Robert Johnson story disappears into the background and the magic guitar is all that’s left.
The story line explores and demonstrates these larger themes: What is the Indian soul? Why do Indians, even today, still see the white man as the devil? What are the roles of music and storytelling, and dreaming in the Indian cultural life? The novel tries to present a world view from the point of view of a young reservation Indian, Thomas, who seems educated, sensitive, and thoughtful, and who doesn’t drink. Thomas is Alexie’s alter-ego.
I enjoyed a couple of conversations with Alexie at the 2008 Port Townsend, WA film festival, which focused on films by and about Indians. I asked him about the sense of time (or lack of it) portrayed in the 1961 film, The Exiles, about urban Indians in Los Angeles, a film he had introduced to the audience (“as the festival’s official Indian,” he joked).
“Poverty is boring,” he said. “I was poor, and when you’re poor, it’s the same shit every day. The same fears and worries and problems. It’s like being in prison. There is no time.” I was stunned by the honesty, force, and depth of his answer. It’s what made the last line of the song, Reservation Blues, echo for me: “And if you ain’t got choices, Ain’t got much to lose.”
I also asked him about the lack of ambition that seems to inhabit reservation culture and Indian life, as portrayed. He replied, “To have ambition means to accept the world of the people who destroyed you. Lack of ambition, even alcohol and drug addiction and suicide, are acts of rebellion against that.” I was skeptical. “Are the people really thinking that way,” I asked? “Subconsciously,” he answered, “always.”
I was still skeptical, but I believed him, because I believe him. I’m white; I’m the devil. I offer the magic guitar of opportunity that promises hope but will turn on you eventually. From my culture-centric point of view, it’s hard to understand the racism and cultural and economic forces that keep the Indian wars going even today. This book successfully represents that and does it with engaging, likeable characters, stimulating imagery, original and sincere writing, and amazingly, with a light, humorous tone.