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Words Like Thunder: New and Used Anishinaabe Prayers
Words like Thunder: New and Used Anishinaabe Prayers is a collection of poetry by award-winning Ojibwe author Lois Beardslee. Much of the book centers around Native people of the Great Lakes but has a universal relevance to modern indigenous people worldwide. Beardslee tackles contemporary topics like climate change and socioeconomic equality with a grace and readability that empowers readers and celebrates the strengths of today's indigenous peoples. She transforms the mundane into the sacred. Similar in style to Nikki Giovanni, Beardslee might lure in readers with the promise of traditional cultural material, even stereotypes, before quickly pivoting toward a direction of respect for the contemporaneity and adaptability of indigenous people's tenacious hold on traditions.
Made up of four sections, the book is like a piece of artwork. Parts of the word-canvas are quiet so the reader can rest and other parts lead the reader quickly from one place to another, while always maintaining eye contact. More than anything, Beardslee emphasizes the notion that indigenous peoples are competent and wonderful, worthy of praise, and whose modernity is a function of their survival. She writes unapologetically with a strong ethnic identity as a woman of color who witnessed and experienced community loss of resources that defined her culture. Her stories transcend generations, time, and geographical boundaries-varying in voice between first person or that of her elders or children-resulting in a collective appeal.
Beardslee continues to break the mold and push the boundaries of contemporary Native American poetry and prose. This book will appeal to a general readership, to people who want to learn more about indigenous peoples of the Great Lakes, and to people who care about the environment and socioeconomic equality. Even young readers, especially students of color, will find parts of this book to which they can relate.
Made up of four sections, the book is like a piece of artwork. Parts of the word-canvas are quiet so the reader can rest and other parts lead the reader quickly from one place to another, while always maintaining eye contact. More than anything, Beardslee emphasizes the notion that indigenous peoples are competent and wonderful, worthy of praise, and whose modernity is a function of their survival. She writes unapologetically with a strong ethnic identity as a woman of color who witnessed and experienced community loss of resources that defined her culture. Her stories transcend generations, time, and geographical boundaries-varying in voice between first person or that of her elders or children-resulting in a collective appeal.
Beardslee continues to break the mold and push the boundaries of contemporary Native American poetry and prose. This book will appeal to a general readership, to people who want to learn more about indigenous peoples of the Great Lakes, and to people who care about the environment and socioeconomic equality. Even young readers, especially students of color, will find parts of this book to which they can relate.
137 pages, Kindle Edition
First published April 28, 2020
15 people are currently reading
295 people want to read
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Displaying 1 - 15 of 15 reviews
May 25, 2020
"We sing these songs when we pause between strides and heartbeats to listen to old mountains weep and sigh."
A moving collection of poems celebrating and honoring indigenous women. Beardslee writes rich metaphors and paints evocative pictures with her words. Her poems are empowering.
"She rests on her heels, patient, sharing a spreading, lower world of foliage with delicate wasps that suck juice from dark fruits--like her, hovering, and hungry for opportunity, for continuity, and for forever."
A moving collection of poems celebrating and honoring indigenous women. Beardslee writes rich metaphors and paints evocative pictures with her words. Her poems are empowering.
"She rests on her heels, patient, sharing a spreading, lower world of foliage with delicate wasps that suck juice from dark fruits--like her, hovering, and hungry for opportunity, for continuity, and for forever."
January 7, 2020
A colorful book of prayers about the ways Indigenous people carry on in their lives and bits of wisdom to hold you over. Thank you to WSU Press for sending this to me, this was beautiful.
September 2, 2020
Really beautiful writing. Would love to read some of this authors more scholarly works as she touched on quite a few modern issues such as the inequality in higher education
November 10, 2020
This is a short collection of poems and short stories written by a Native American which I've read for my monthly book club.
I was actually pleasantly surprised by this book. I am really not an avid reader of poetry. I think I may have read too many books where dragons are actually dragons, as such most metaphors simply fly straight over my head.
I've read somewhere that one should read poetry like a novel, without stopping to try and decorticate every sentence. That's how I've read this novel, without trying to understand everything, just let myself flow with the rhythm. A lot of it might've felt like gibberish, but in the end I was left with a sense of loss and sadness. A nostalgia for a time long lost. There's a lot of animism in there, where mountains and rivers are also persons. I also enjoyed the clever mix of past and present, the presence of highways, boxed macaroni, cities side by side with the mountains and rivers.
That longing for the past felt surprising, because in the beginning the author notes that she doesn't want to talk about the past too much because she dislikes how Native Americans are seen as relics of a bygone era or walking myths. Yet, while reading this book, I sensed a barely hidden longing for ancient times. I also feel like this nostalgia is blinding, it's easy to think that the past is great if the only thing you think about is native americans dancing under the stars. It's another thing if you remember that even before the arrival of the colonial powers, the native populations were frequently victims of disease, famine and internecine warfaire.
This is also one of my main criticism about this book. There really isn't much in there about the future, there's very little hope or optimism. There's a lot of very fair grievances about how native americans aren't given fair opportunities, about how they receive charity instead of possibilities, about the youth leaving their ancestral villages for the big cities. But very little about a way forward.
I'm also not terribly fond of the vaunted native american bond with nature. I feel like this still stems from the "good savage" myths. The native american bond with nature is the same as any other hunter/gatherer society, e.g. same as the celts. The only difference, is that native americans were ripped from their hunter/gatherer society and transplanted into "modernity".
But overall, I recommend this book, it gives some insights and allow us to consider a point of view which we too often forget.
I was actually pleasantly surprised by this book. I am really not an avid reader of poetry. I think I may have read too many books where dragons are actually dragons, as such most metaphors simply fly straight over my head.
I've read somewhere that one should read poetry like a novel, without stopping to try and decorticate every sentence. That's how I've read this novel, without trying to understand everything, just let myself flow with the rhythm. A lot of it might've felt like gibberish, but in the end I was left with a sense of loss and sadness. A nostalgia for a time long lost. There's a lot of animism in there, where mountains and rivers are also persons. I also enjoyed the clever mix of past and present, the presence of highways, boxed macaroni, cities side by side with the mountains and rivers.
That longing for the past felt surprising, because in the beginning the author notes that she doesn't want to talk about the past too much because she dislikes how Native Americans are seen as relics of a bygone era or walking myths. Yet, while reading this book, I sensed a barely hidden longing for ancient times. I also feel like this nostalgia is blinding, it's easy to think that the past is great if the only thing you think about is native americans dancing under the stars. It's another thing if you remember that even before the arrival of the colonial powers, the native populations were frequently victims of disease, famine and internecine warfaire.
This is also one of my main criticism about this book. There really isn't much in there about the future, there's very little hope or optimism. There's a lot of very fair grievances about how native americans aren't given fair opportunities, about how they receive charity instead of possibilities, about the youth leaving their ancestral villages for the big cities. But very little about a way forward.
I'm also not terribly fond of the vaunted native american bond with nature. I feel like this still stems from the "good savage" myths. The native american bond with nature is the same as any other hunter/gatherer society, e.g. same as the celts. The only difference, is that native americans were ripped from their hunter/gatherer society and transplanted into "modernity".
But overall, I recommend this book, it gives some insights and allow us to consider a point of view which we too often forget.
September 15, 2020
"I'm going to tell you a story that starts when I was a child. I don't like to do hat, because it lets people think that contemporary Indians are just an adjunct to the past, that older Indian stuff is more cool than contemporary Indian stuff, and that maybe we have no place in this world other than as symbols of the past."
So opens "Babiigomakakiianskwe Dibaajim - Conversation with Toad Woman," an extended prose piece that leads off the second section of this collection, "Kicking and Screaming."
Further choice moments from that piece include:
"For what it's worth, I need to mention this: Many people who, for the most part, are willing to pool their resources to help ensure the survival of frogs and toads would probably not be concerned about the survival of defenseless brown children who are regularly assaulted and tossed aside by exclusionary institutionalized otherness." (A key theme unpacked in the season-ending episodes of the new series Woke)
"It is very important to me that I not let anybody get confused about my status as a placeholder for stereotypes versus my role as a leader, a teacher, a scientist, or a conservationist. I need to make sure that people understand that I am as valuable today as I was a hundred years or more ago."
Other stand-out poems in this collection include "Desperation Cookies," "Hurricane Katrina" (which contains this capper - "They are sitting in a warm September, those Indians/ Talking in hushed tones, so their children don't hear/ Talking in hushed tones, so predators cannot hear/ Their residual fear. We know what genocide looks like."), "Harvest Me" ("so that I can plant my feet in valleys and stand strong while you slam against me in your perceived reproductive war over resources that were never meant to be hoarded"), "Fiction versus Nonfiction," "Bawaating," "A Conversation Between Women Writers of Color (Just a Cautious Conversation)" ("I am worried that we seek solace outside of this place and time"), and "Ogitchidaakwewag" (with its refrain, "I will translate our name for you").
So opens "Babiigomakakiianskwe Dibaajim - Conversation with Toad Woman," an extended prose piece that leads off the second section of this collection, "Kicking and Screaming."
Further choice moments from that piece include:
"For what it's worth, I need to mention this: Many people who, for the most part, are willing to pool their resources to help ensure the survival of frogs and toads would probably not be concerned about the survival of defenseless brown children who are regularly assaulted and tossed aside by exclusionary institutionalized otherness." (A key theme unpacked in the season-ending episodes of the new series Woke)
"It is very important to me that I not let anybody get confused about my status as a placeholder for stereotypes versus my role as a leader, a teacher, a scientist, or a conservationist. I need to make sure that people understand that I am as valuable today as I was a hundred years or more ago."
Other stand-out poems in this collection include "Desperation Cookies," "Hurricane Katrina" (which contains this capper - "They are sitting in a warm September, those Indians/ Talking in hushed tones, so their children don't hear/ Talking in hushed tones, so predators cannot hear/ Their residual fear. We know what genocide looks like."), "Harvest Me" ("so that I can plant my feet in valleys and stand strong while you slam against me in your perceived reproductive war over resources that were never meant to be hoarded"), "Fiction versus Nonfiction," "Bawaating," "A Conversation Between Women Writers of Color (Just a Cautious Conversation)" ("I am worried that we seek solace outside of this place and time"), and "Ogitchidaakwewag" (with its refrain, "I will translate our name for you").
December 28, 2020
Have you ever been stuck at a bus stop with a guy to whom the world has been totally unfair? He'll tell you all about how he's just so great, but everything is conspiring against him. He's got so many problems, and none of them are ever his fault. This book is that guy in poem form.
The parts that weren't angry griping were pretty good; for example, the odd childhood rituals associated with the tractor-wagon or her affinity for an adopted frog.
One gripe stood out to me as particularly absurd: Several pieces complain that there are no jobs out in the backcountry, which is so unfair to the people. Other pieces condemn those who leave the backcountry to find jobs, because they're betraying their people.
No, wait, the most absurd gripe was when she denounced Abraham Lincoln. You might think the great emancipator was pretty decent, but Beardslee's got this guy's ticket. Did you know he once allowed 38 people to be executed? Was it because they were: 1) murderers? 2) rapists? 3) Sioux? You might think it was #1 or #2, but Beardslee's got it figured out: it's because they were Sioux. Of course, Lincoln also overruled his generals who wanted to execute 264 other Sioux, because Lincoln only wanted those who were specifically known to have murdered civilians to be punished. Still, you can't argue with facts: those 38 guys were definitely Sioux. They had problems, and it was somebody else's fault.
The parts that weren't angry griping were pretty good; for example, the odd childhood rituals associated with the tractor-wagon or her affinity for an adopted frog.
One gripe stood out to me as particularly absurd: Several pieces complain that there are no jobs out in the backcountry, which is so unfair to the people. Other pieces condemn those who leave the backcountry to find jobs, because they're betraying their people.
No, wait, the most absurd gripe was when she denounced Abraham Lincoln. You might think the great emancipator was pretty decent, but Beardslee's got this guy's ticket. Did you know he once allowed 38 people to be executed? Was it because they were: 1) murderers? 2) rapists? 3) Sioux? You might think it was #1 or #2, but Beardslee's got it figured out: it's because they were Sioux. Of course, Lincoln also overruled his generals who wanted to execute 264 other Sioux, because Lincoln only wanted those who were specifically known to have murdered civilians to be punished. Still, you can't argue with facts: those 38 guys were definitely Sioux. They had problems, and it was somebody else's fault.
August 5, 2021
Powerful to read these personal poem/stories as so many mass graves of children are discovered at former residential schools. Evocative, lulling, operating at an intense low frequency. It's not a book to rush and it was due back at the library because it's new and I look forward to reading more in the future.
May 25, 2021
This was a powerful book that I had to slowly digest. I would read a few poems every morning, and then read a few more. Now it's horribly late to the library and I have to take it back today. I will probably get myself a copy.
November 28, 2023
What have we missed by not paying attention to indigenous history? What has been destroyed and lost? This book of poetry is so interesting. The care for earth. The love of nature. Tradition. I live here.
Read Harder #20 Read a book of poetry by a BIPOC or Queer author.
Read Harder #20 Read a book of poetry by a BIPOC or Queer author.
July 29, 2020
A beautiful book. Made me cry.
February 6, 2021
Great poetry
Some great poetry that will make you think. It is great to learn from other perspectives and poetry is a great insight into the Anishanabe story.
Some great poetry that will make you think. It is great to learn from other perspectives and poetry is a great insight into the Anishanabe story.
March 7, 2022
Moving and perspective shifting. I love the line “And temperatures drop so low that rocks and lakes embrace one another in a slow, cool dance”.
January 20, 2026
Sincere
Poem Painted Dancers
🪢Loved their inspirational legacy.
Poem Painted Dancers
🪢Loved their inspirational legacy.
August 21, 2023
I’m definitely going to need to read this one again to full comprehend it all but I really enjoyed it! I think this would be a cool one to listen to so maybe I’ll do that on a reread. The author is also from Michigan which was fun to discover and makes me want to read and learn more about the history and lives of indigenous people in my home state.
March 12, 2022
Words Like Thunder is deep and thought-provoking. I can say that I didn’t fully understand the meaning behind every story, but it was a fun challenge trying to decipher the messages. Lois Beardslee touches on topics of racism, family, and environmental activism in abstract and interesting ways. I’m glad I picked this one up!
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