Winner of the 2022 Rebekah Johnson Bobbitt National Prize for Poetry
In a new collection that is "a force of nature" (Amy Gerstler), renowned Native poet Heid E. Erdrich applies her rich inventive voice and fierce wit to the deforming effects of harassment and oppression.
Little Big Bully begins with a question asked of a collective and troubled we - how did we come to this? In answer, this book offers personal myth, American and Native American contexts, and allegories driven by women's resistance to narcissists, stalkers, and harassers. These poems are immediate, personal, political, cultural, even futuristic object lessons. What is truth now? Who are we now? How do we find answers through the smoke of human destructiveness? The past for Indigenous people, ecosystem collapse from near-extinction of bison, and the present epidemic of missing and murdered Indigenous women underlie these poems. Here, survivors shout back at useless cautionary tales with their own courage and visions of future worlds made well.
Heid E. Erdrich writes and publishes poetry and non-fiction. Her NEW book of poems, Cell Traffic, a new and selected from University of Arizona Press, IS NOW AVAILABLE. Please consider buying it from www.birchbarkbooks.com
Heid's most recent book of poems, National Monuments from Michigan State University Press, won the 2009 Minnesota Book Award. Heid Erdrich teaches writing workshops, often as a guest at various colleges and universities. Each year she leads the Turtle Mountain Writers Workshop on her home reservation in North Dakota. Heid also works with American Indian visual artists as a curator and arts advocate. Author of the play "Curiosities," she collaborates broadly on multi-discilinary performances of other artists as well.
Founder of Wiigwaas Press, along with her sister Louise Erdrich and poet James Cihlar, Heid continues to publish Ojibwe language books in an effort to assist in indigenous language revitalization work.
Little Big Bully is a hard-hitting and thought-provoking poetry collection from an indigenous woman. Pieces in the collection address the genocide of indigenous people, missing and murdered Native women, identity, sexual assault in the #MeToo era, and cultural appropriation (including from people who say they have some Native blood but don't actually experience any of the oppression many indigenous people face). There are pieces documenting the ways that women can be victimized time and time again, beginning in childhood. The author doesn't pull her punches and I think this is an important read for everyone. She reads the poems herself on the audiobook and I think that's a great way to access this collection. I received an audio copy of this book for review from the publisher, all opinions are my own.
I read about 20 pages. It was hit-or-miss. The poem "fauxskins" was a great discussion of people who claim indigenous ancestry without bearing any of the trouble that goes with it. Several of the poems were about sexual assault. They were well-written, but not what I was in the mood for.
I quite enjoyed this collection overall, although I did not understand every poem. Would recommend to readers who like experimental poetry and/or social justice.
A powerful collection of poetry examining the treatment of indigenous people, particularly women, in the age of Trump and #metoo. I already want to reread it.
This is a wonderful, beautiful, powerful book. Read from cover to cover, and then the wonderful end notes made me want to read all of them again, which I will. Very relevant to place (MN-ND, Northlands), to small town childhood, to Indigenous rights and history. Also pop culture, driving, so much more. Love.
This is the third collection of Erdrich's that I've read, and each one just makes me want to read more!
I loved "The Coldness Was Coldness" taking on William Carlos Williams and his most famous (or at least most viral) poem of ice boxes and plums -- and the near-invisible wife implied therein. I loved "Oh - Terrible Movie!" watching "The Day After Tomorrow" in the midst of 2019's polar vortex, proud when their kid heckles the screen. but perhaps most of all I love the last two poems in the collection, "Dream of the Land-Based Future" and "Reprieve," that dream imagined futures that give reason for hope.
Choose one or more of the following: beautiful, heart-rending, funny, meaningful, profound, eye-opening, clever, sad, educational, powerful, memorable. That was this book.
I get all my books from the library but I think I need to buy this one.
Erdrich plays with formatting, and uses the tab key a lot, which I cannot figure out how to replicate on Goodreads. But I think the words are just as meaningful even if they are not indented properly.
If I Give You A Last Lesson If we had just these moments I would tell you Stand close as I write Hold my shoulders last touch then I'll be gone
How to watch me go how my being will dwindle all twilight How to stand here alone when I am gone feel the vibrant earth rotate through you until your head accepts How to listen for what’s left of me my voice that jolts you out of weekend sleep that wonders what you eat asks you to demand real love from anyone you give you sweetest self How to take into yourself all the structures I pointed out the physical logic my rationale the critical angle you can use so quickly your wit can outrace your body and give you that moment to jump How to jump when an enemy How to know which branch which roof which window How-to yearn for blue shores moments alone when you know all you will know and can read it back to yourself How to relearn what you don’t know How to dive hold your breath so bubbles fill the water popping full of reflections of your own face and you are not afraid How to not be afraid you can say it I am not afraid to learn
How to live with the hurt of being human How you learn it is you sayit hurtsHow in itself it is the lesson How you say gone now and still here Now watch me go my being will dwindle all twilight and other words that combine w with another consonant unexpectedly That last to make you laugh last lesson you live all your life so when you go you pass it on
impulsively picked this book off a shelf to pass time at a bookstore but wow. the poet has such a way with her words. it’s so lyrical yet still colloquial at times. witty but instills a very deep sense of empathy. her descriptions of the way natives and women have been wronged were so raw and straightforward yet still took deciphering and thinking to truly understand the depth. the formatting and spaces between lines and words in some of the poems were so successfully implemented and so geniusly curated. it rlly provided the necessary pauses and emphasis on certain words or phrases that made the reading experience all the more immersive. she paints the struggles of women, nature/animals, and indigenous peoples in such a way that it’s easy to relate. if not relate, then understand. she draws parallels or compares her experiences with indigenous references so not only are you gaining an understanding of these all-too-normalized experiences but also an education of how truly sacred indigenous identity is.
getting into some of my favorite selections, “all nations” was about extinction, both human and nature. her words were simply mind blowing. i felt anguish and longing for this “wild” that extinction might find refuge in. “put down” also particularly resonated w me bc i’ve found myself experiencing putting myself down, humbling myself, averting my gaze not for me but to be hidden, to be ignored, to redirect attention from me in the public sphere. it’s crazy women are taught to stay low and hidden in order to stay “safe” but who are we hiding from if not ourselves? some other favorites include: all nations, fauxskins, story of these creatures, dear demeter-dear earth, little big, put down, nothing to forget, aftermath, if i give you a last lesson.
it was mentioned that the cover art was meant to be a “sigil for warding off loss” which just perfectly ties into the book. so much loss but learning in the process. overall beautiful book with gripping and revelation-inducing words.
Loves How I love you How you How we hang on words How eaten with need How we need to eat How weevils sift the wheat How cold it is How thick with hoarfrost ice slick sleet freeze How wintery the mix How full of angst How gut sick How blue lipped How we drink How we drink a health How we care How easy over as eggs How it all slides How absurd How yet tender we all How wrapped in a thick coat How battered How slender the flesh How we wrap ourselves How many selves we all How I miss you many How I see you How your eyes warm mine How tiny am I inside How enormous my need How you open an old-fashioned satchel How deep it yawns How bleak this need How like winter How it yet catches the light How brilliant the sundogs parhelion moon dogs paraselene phenomenon optic How fetching your spectacles How my thumbs might fit alongside the slope of your nose How my own glasses slide down my thin bridge How ridiculous the theory of the bridge How inane the bibble babble How we grew to be friends How we grew thumbs How opposable we all How we grew sparks How we blew up a fire How angry How incensed How we resist How we bead up drops How water will not run How we distract How loud the dog snores How loudly How noisy the snow grows How many degrees below How we fret How again How we all came here How did we come How did we How loves How did we come to this
Little Big Bully is a poetry collection from Ojibwe writer Heid E. Erdrich. In it, she writes about love, history, genocide, and the current political moment, all through an indigenous lens.
This might be the first poetry book I’ve listened to as an audiobook and actually enjoyed. It felt like going to a reading by the author, and though I couldn’t see the line breaks visually, Erdrich is a good reader (NOT overwrought, like many poets, thank god) and the intimacy of her voice, to me, outweighed whatever I was missing by not reading it on paper. There were no poems that I particularly didn’t like, and standouts include “Big Sir”, “The Bully Treaty”, and “Story of the Charismenace”. Her use of language was very particular, and while sometimes I wish there was a little more variety in the collection, I feel like I recognize little quirks of her singular poetic voice--there’s nothing generic about it. 4 out of 5 bad apocalypse movies
I can tell you that I enjoyed this collection of poetry, that it resonated with me, that the language felt tasty in my brain, and that it made me feel various things. I can't tell you what it all meant (not that I would try, that's between me and the words, it's nothing to do with you), because though I felt the poems, I can't properly put into words what those feelings are, which is how poetry should work, in my opinion, anyway. Erdrich does explain many of the references in the poems in an afterward, providing context and depth, and encouraging the reader to go back and reread the poems. I absolutely recommend reading this, even though I can't exactly tell you why. Let the words wash over you, and find your meaning for them.
I love how the poems in this collection hang together, from the density of the epigraph/poem "How" ("How did we come How did we How loves How did we come to this") to the first poem "Sovereign Love" ("The only name it needs it speaks within me / Call it what you will It will answer"), to "Territory Was Not Virgin and Neither Was I (Virgin) ("but daughter then woman then wave"), all the way to the last poem "Reprieve" ("fine we thought we're done with dying"); how they break open, expose, complicate, tangle, question love and sovereignty (of self/others/nation/...) and the fraught ramifications of assumptions made about these (and the pronouns 'we' and 'you' for that matter), especially when power comes into play.
Reading Heid E. Erdrich’s Little Big Bully, I felt that familiar tug of "reading, pausing, re-reading, finishing, re-reading" that I associate with truly engaging with poetry. There is so much in this short collection. Bittersweetness, anger, exhaustion, and “sovereign love.” There’s humor, sharp wit, and grief. There’s reckoning. It is uneasy.
Honestly this entire collection is brilliant and beautiful and thought-provoking, so choosing favorites feels like an impossible task. Nevertheless, here are some that I ended up tabbing and underlining the most: “All Nations,” “Fauxskins,” “The Pacifist Grows Mean,” “Aftermath,” “The Eighth Fire,” and “Reprieve.”
I've been thinking about what makes a book like this, one that engages very frankly with a particular sociopolitical moment, last. That doesn't have to be a priority, but suppose it is--suppose you want someone who did not live that moment to read a poem about it. I can think of several books of poetry that resonated five or ten years ago but now feel a little past. A work is always of its time, but there are continuities, things we still love about language, ideas that still rattle around in your brain box with all the newer ones. I don't know if this will be that kind of book or not, but honestly, if I get one souvenir from the late twenty-teens, I want it to be this.
This poetry collection is incredible and difficult to read. I loved many of the poems but found in a lot of ways- I did not understand everything that was being referenced or alluded to and I think that was the point. The poems bring to light issues and thoughts that the author, as an Ojibwe woman, has insight and connection to. It gave me a window into things I need to understand better. The poems are uncomfortable and that is good. Poetry has the power to make you think and feel outside your safe zone... I appreciated that in this book. Thank you for the journey.
This is a fairly quick collection that covers a wide variety of topics. Some that pertain to the author’s life and some that reach a wider scale of what impacts her communities.
Each poem is quite vivid, not following any distinct style. It was interesting to read with all the words spaced out in such a way. It felt a little chaotic, but in a good way.
There were a few that stood out to me while others I wasn’t totally sure what the messaging was. But they might just be beyond my skillset and comprehension.
These poems sounded really raw and thoughtfully structured, but I think there was a disconnect for me (maybe I’m missing some nonfiction knowledge, maybe I’m too keyed up to just listen without feeling like I’m missing something, maybe contemporary poetry is just difficult for me and I should give it a rest)
I truly never read poetry so I don't really feel equipped to star-rate this, but I really enjoyed it. Definitely experimental, so I went slowly, and tried to sit with each one a bit. A few really stood out. I got this in a book box from Black Walnut Books, an indigenous-owned bookstore in upstate New York and really appreciated being pushed to read outside my normal genre.
Very interesting and very empowering. Poetry shines through when it merges culture and trauma and Heid Erdrich does it very well. Some bits were a bit too whimsical for me, such that I had to read over and over, but that’s the way poetry is written, so no complaints.
There is a reason Heid Erdrich has been named Minneapolis' first Poet Laureate, Heid's amazing poetry has good rhythm keeping you engaged. The use of words in the poems put you in the place described in the poem.
I think I might be a little out of practice at reading poetry and maybe rushed through this a bit, but I wanted to read something by an Indigenous author on Thanksgiving. Lots of hard truths.
This was recommended to me by the librarian. Wonderful read! Beautiful poems about identity framed in contexts that oppose each other and shift with a gracious push-pull.
In the company of someone talking to themselves with the candor you sometimes don't even give yourself. I loved these long lines full of pause, pieces of story, rebuttals, pain and pulse.