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The Personal History of Rachel DuPree
An award-winning novel with incredible heart, about life on the prairie as it's rarely been seen When Rachel, hired help in a Chicago boardinghouse, falls in love with Isaac, the boardinghouse owner's son, he makes her a he'll marry her, but only if she gives up her 160 acres from the Homestead Act so he can double his share. She agrees, and together they stake their claim in the forebodingly beautiful South Dakota Badlands. Fourteen years later, in the summer of 1917, the cattle are bellowing with thirst. It hasn't rained in months, and supplies have dwindled. Pregnant, and struggling to feed her family, Rachel is isolated by more than just geography. She is determined to give her surviving children the life they deserve, but she knows that her husband, a fiercely proud former Buffalo Soldier, will never leave his black families are rare in the West, and land means a measure of equality with the white man. Somehow Rachel must find the strength to do what is right-for herself, and for her children. Reminiscent of The Color Purple as well as the frontier novels of Laura Ingalls Wilder and Willa Cather, The Personal History of Rachel DuPree opens a window on the little-known history of African American homesteaders and gives voice to an extraordinary heroine who embodies the spirit that built America.
338 pages, Kindle Edition
First published May 28, 2008
252 people are currently reading
5542 people want to read
About the author
Ann Weisgarber
4 books310 followersAnn is the author of "The Glovemaker," "The Promise," and "The Personal History of Rachel DuPree." She was nominated for the UK's Orange Prize, the Orange Award for New Writers, and the Walter Scott Prize for Historical Fiction. In the United States, she won the Stephen Turner Award for New Fiction and the Langum Prize for American Historical Fiction. She was shortlisted for the Ohioana Book Award and was a Barnes and Noble Discover New Writer. Ann was inducted into the Texas Institute of Letters.
Ann's latest novel, "The Glovemaker" is set in Utah's canyon country during the winter of 1888. This is a change from her second novel, "The Promise," which takes place in Galveston, Texas -- where Ann lives -- during the historic 1900 Storm that killed thousands. Just to keep things interesting, her debut novel, "The Personal History of Rachel DuPree," takes readers to the South Dakota Badlands during 1917.
She was born in Kettering, Ohio, a suburb of Dayton. She graduated from Wright State University in Dayton with a BA in Social Work and earned a MA in Sociology from the University of Houston. She has been a social worker in psychiatric and nursing home facilities, and taught sociology at Wharton County Junior College in Texas.
In addition to Ohio and Texas, Ann has lived in Cambridge, Massachusetts, and Des Moines, Iowa. She lives in Galveston, Texas, where she's working on a novel about a World War II German POW camp in Hearne, Texas.
Ann's latest novel, "The Glovemaker" is set in Utah's canyon country during the winter of 1888. This is a change from her second novel, "The Promise," which takes place in Galveston, Texas -- where Ann lives -- during the historic 1900 Storm that killed thousands. Just to keep things interesting, her debut novel, "The Personal History of Rachel DuPree," takes readers to the South Dakota Badlands during 1917.
She was born in Kettering, Ohio, a suburb of Dayton. She graduated from Wright State University in Dayton with a BA in Social Work and earned a MA in Sociology from the University of Houston. She has been a social worker in psychiatric and nursing home facilities, and taught sociology at Wharton County Junior College in Texas.
In addition to Ohio and Texas, Ann has lived in Cambridge, Massachusetts, and Des Moines, Iowa. She lives in Galveston, Texas, where she's working on a novel about a World War II German POW camp in Hearne, Texas.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 742 reviews
June 8, 2018
I read author Ann Weisgarber’s sophomore novel, The Promise a few years back and knew immediately that I must backtrack and read her debut, The Personal History of Rachel Dupree, nominated for an Orange Prize in 2009. Reading her first novel NOW seemed the perfect time, as The Personal History of Rachel Dupree, is slated for the big screen (produced by Viola Davis, who is also playing the lead)! I cannot wait to gather some girlfriends together to watch this. Yes, I’m one of those people who wants to read the book first, to compare.
Rachel Dupree will transport you to the unforgiving climate of South Dakota’s Badlands and introduce you to a strong black woman – a wife, a mother, a daughter, a sister – of iron will, a woman ahead of her time in many ways. She and her husband Isaac are among only a handful of African Americans staking a claim in the area. You will feel the isolation, the scratches of dryness in your own parched throat, and feel the pangs of thirst these characters experience with the lack of rain. You’ll hear the wind, you’ll see the desolate plains. Your heart will ache with the hardships of frontier living during the early 1900s. And you will likely cry.
Layered thematically with insight about racism, perceptions about women and their place in society – their value; and about war, secrecy, and sacrifice, this is, at its heart, a story of man’s ambition and what happens when it is all-consuming. This story also asks: what is love? But it’s about so much more: it’s about the American dream of land ownership; it’s about family, transgressions, grief, and finding happiness in the smallest of pleasures. It’s a story about tough decisions and the long-lasting consequences of making them.
I was struck by this quote by Rachel, in the novel: “Isaac hated Indians but that didn’t make it right. It didn’t mean I had to. It didn’t mean I had to hold on to grievances that were never mine.”
For those who enjoy emotionally laden, beautifully-rendered historical fiction, strong female characters, and themes about women’s strength, as well as first-person point of view stories, this is a book I highly recommend.
And guess what? Weisgarber also has a new book coming in February, 2019, called The Glovemaker. It sounds equally wonderful! You can bet it’s on my TBR already. SO looking forward to it.
Rachel Dupree will transport you to the unforgiving climate of South Dakota’s Badlands and introduce you to a strong black woman – a wife, a mother, a daughter, a sister – of iron will, a woman ahead of her time in many ways. She and her husband Isaac are among only a handful of African Americans staking a claim in the area. You will feel the isolation, the scratches of dryness in your own parched throat, and feel the pangs of thirst these characters experience with the lack of rain. You’ll hear the wind, you’ll see the desolate plains. Your heart will ache with the hardships of frontier living during the early 1900s. And you will likely cry.
Layered thematically with insight about racism, perceptions about women and their place in society – their value; and about war, secrecy, and sacrifice, this is, at its heart, a story of man’s ambition and what happens when it is all-consuming. This story also asks: what is love? But it’s about so much more: it’s about the American dream of land ownership; it’s about family, transgressions, grief, and finding happiness in the smallest of pleasures. It’s a story about tough decisions and the long-lasting consequences of making them.
I was struck by this quote by Rachel, in the novel: “Isaac hated Indians but that didn’t make it right. It didn’t mean I had to. It didn’t mean I had to hold on to grievances that were never mine.”
For those who enjoy emotionally laden, beautifully-rendered historical fiction, strong female characters, and themes about women’s strength, as well as first-person point of view stories, this is a book I highly recommend.
And guess what? Weisgarber also has a new book coming in February, 2019, called The Glovemaker. It sounds equally wonderful! You can bet it’s on my TBR already. SO looking forward to it.
July 24, 2023
"Anger welled up inside of me. Land was a measure of a person's worth. I couldn't count the number of times Isaac had said that. But there'd never be enough land to satisfy Isaac. There'd always be another patch just right for grazing, or there'd be a corner with a wash that never ran dry, or there'd be a stretch of flatlands made for raising winter wheat. It'd never end."
It's 1917 in the Badlands of South Dakota, and Rachel DuPree wonders how her five children and the cattle are going to survive during a severe drought. Rachel and Isaac DuPree, a former black Buffalo soldier, have a ranch that they started using land obtained through the Homestead Act. But her husband is not setting aside enough money to buy provisions as he continues to buy up more cattle and adjoining land. Rachel must decide whether she can stay in the Badlands with Isaac or return to Chicago to give her children a more normal life.
This is a story about sacrifice, hardship, and family love. It also has interesting historical details about black ranchers and the indigenous population in the West. The Badlands seem like another character with its beautiful but brutal landscape. "The Personal History of Rachel DuPree" is a wonderful historical novel with a strong female protagonist.
It's 1917 in the Badlands of South Dakota, and Rachel DuPree wonders how her five children and the cattle are going to survive during a severe drought. Rachel and Isaac DuPree, a former black Buffalo soldier, have a ranch that they started using land obtained through the Homestead Act. But her husband is not setting aside enough money to buy provisions as he continues to buy up more cattle and adjoining land. Rachel must decide whether she can stay in the Badlands with Isaac or return to Chicago to give her children a more normal life.
This is a story about sacrifice, hardship, and family love. It also has interesting historical details about black ranchers and the indigenous population in the West. The Badlands seem like another character with its beautiful but brutal landscape. "The Personal History of Rachel DuPree" is a wonderful historical novel with a strong female protagonist.
March 10, 2014
Rachel works as a cook at a boardinghouse for negro men who work at the slaughterhouses in Chicago. The boardinghouse is owned by Mrs. Dupree, a widow. When her son Issac returns from military service he sees an opportunity to gain more land for his homestead claim by marrying Rachel. She is infatuated by Issac and agrees. So begins their life together in the Badlands in South Dakota. Issac continues to buy land from those who csnnot sustain their ranches. For Issac land is everything. Rachel supports Issac but longs for his heart. When the Dust Bowl hits, Issac and Rachel must make some difficult decisions at the sacrific of their children. Supplies are limited, and Rachel does her best to keep food on the table. Issac fought against the Lakota Indians and does not want Rachel to have any association with them. Rachel longs for the companionship of neighbors, all the more difficult when most are white. Narrated by Rachel, I felt her pain and struggled and the desires she holds for her children. A grest historical novel that explores the little known journey of negro pioneers. The book was clearly well researched.
April 3, 2011
This is the story of Rachel Dupree, wife of one of the few African American ranchers in the South Dakota Badlands in 1917. As the story opens, Isaac is lowering their six year old daughter Liz into the well to fetch water in the midst of a terrible drought. Rachel knows it must be done, yet at that moment, she questions her loyalty to Isaac, whose ambitions to own more land seems to come ahead of the needs of his family. Rachel, who is pregnant with her eighth child, has to decide whether to staying with Isaac is best for her and the children, or if she should take them back to her hometown of Chicago.
I really enjoyed this book. The story is told from Rachel's point of view, and the writing makes you feel like you are right in that place and time with her. The descriptions of the hardships of the drought made me feel thankful that I do not live in a place where I have to worry about not having enough water.
I just wish the book had been a little longer, an epilogue would have been nice telling of the repercussions of the decision that Rachel finally made.
I really enjoyed this book. The story is told from Rachel's point of view, and the writing makes you feel like you are right in that place and time with her. The descriptions of the hardships of the drought made me feel thankful that I do not live in a place where I have to worry about not having enough water.
I just wish the book had been a little longer, an epilogue would have been nice telling of the repercussions of the decision that Rachel finally made.
June 20, 2015
This story was filled with a variety of dynamics not usually combined together. It is what makes this book so interesting! Weisgarber sets the stage of a Negro woman/family's life owning a cattle ranch in the Badlands of South Dakota in 1917. A far cry from the Historical Fiction books from the Civil Rights or Slavery era I find myself reading a lot. Based on the Homestead Act, Weisgarber combines fact and fiction is this wonderful enlightening story of Rachel DuPree's life. I thoroughly enjoy it!!
September 20, 2012
The voice of Rachel DuPree drew me in on this one so it was a quick read. Very conversational tone, succinct sentences, written in such a way that you feel like you're listening to the innermost thoughts of the character. She does give you a lot of back story as she narrates, so if you're the kind of person who hates that, you might not like it. In this case, it didn't bother me because it worked for story.
It's about a woman who comes to realize (like duh) how the choices one makes for love, actually affects their innocent children. It's also really about Isaac DuPree, the ambitious, self-centered man that Rachel marries because all she can think is how she must be so lucky because a man like him chooses her. Ugh. She moves away from her home in Chicago, to the South Dakota Badlands, where she has to learn how to do the kind of ranch work that a city girl has no clue about. And the thing that comes first for her husband, is not his children or his wife, rather, it is his land ownership.Not that Rachel just blames her husband because in the story, she tells you how she knew this upfront. The story here really is about hard-working people trying to make a name for themselves, about a family that manages to achieve what some saw as impossible, but it's also about what pride will do to people when they only care about what the world thinks of them.
I loved hearing the narrator's point of views, making it so easy to empathize with her, AND get mad at her at the same time. Yet somehow, I kept expecting something more to happen here; until I realized that the author really was just taking us through the mind of a woman who was mulling over her marriage, and trying to figure out how to make it up to her children. Although I must say, the ending was a little disappointing. And I couldn't stop wondering how the book would have read had Isaac DuPree been a second narrator.
My favorite thing about the book were the underlying lessons. Like one of my favorite parts when Rachel finally realizes that she did not have to hate the "Agency Indians." She finally saw Mrs. Fills The Pipe for who she really was: a woman just like herself.
"Her eyes were black like my mother's. Her skin was brown like Alise's. Her face was tired and sad like mine. Her sister-in-law was dying but she'd helped me because Mary asked her to...all that from an agency Indian. Isaac hated Indians but that didn't make it right. It didn't mean I had to. It didn't mean I had to hold on to grievances that were never mine."
It's about a woman who comes to realize (like duh) how the choices one makes for love, actually affects their innocent children. It's also really about Isaac DuPree, the ambitious, self-centered man that Rachel marries because all she can think is how she must be so lucky because a man like him chooses her. Ugh. She moves away from her home in Chicago, to the South Dakota Badlands, where she has to learn how to do the kind of ranch work that a city girl has no clue about. And the thing that comes first for her husband, is not his children or his wife, rather, it is his land ownership.Not that Rachel just blames her husband because in the story, she tells you how she knew this upfront. The story here really is about hard-working people trying to make a name for themselves, about a family that manages to achieve what some saw as impossible, but it's also about what pride will do to people when they only care about what the world thinks of them.
I loved hearing the narrator's point of views, making it so easy to empathize with her, AND get mad at her at the same time. Yet somehow, I kept expecting something more to happen here; until I realized that the author really was just taking us through the mind of a woman who was mulling over her marriage, and trying to figure out how to make it up to her children. Although I must say, the ending was a little disappointing. And I couldn't stop wondering how the book would have read had Isaac DuPree been a second narrator.
My favorite thing about the book were the underlying lessons. Like one of my favorite parts when Rachel finally realizes that she did not have to hate the "Agency Indians." She finally saw Mrs. Fills The Pipe for who she really was: a woman just like herself.
"Her eyes were black like my mother's. Her skin was brown like Alise's. Her face was tired and sad like mine. Her sister-in-law was dying but she'd helped me because Mary asked her to...all that from an agency Indian. Isaac hated Indians but that didn't make it right. It didn't mean I had to. It didn't mean I had to hold on to grievances that were never mine."
June 14, 2011
This is the story of Rachel Dupree, a black woman pioneer living with her husband and their five children in the Badlands of South Dakota. Isaac, Rachel's husband, is a hard man, determined that his children will never have to bow and scrape to the whites. In Isaac's mind, owning land is the only insurance against this. Rachel, who is nine months pregnant, is less certain. In their fourteen years in the Badlands, they have lost two children. Life in South Dakota is stark and mean and Rachel mourns that her children have not experienced the sweetness of childhood in such a barren place.
This book was compared to the Laura Ingalls Wilder books, but they have little in common with this book. In the "Little House" books (except for the last two), the story is told from a child's perspective. The books are full of love and adventure, new challenges are exciting. The Personal History of Rachel Dupree is told from a mother's perspective, so it is fraught with worry and anxiety. The drought, the sick milk cow, her unborn child, the empty cellar are all reasons to worry about the future and the survival of her children.
This book was quite well-written, but I wouldn't call it a pleasure to read. Throughout it, I felt troubled and nervous, which is a testament to the Weisgarberr's skills. Also, it is worth noting that i had just found out I was pregnant when I read this book. Rachel's sometimes problematic pregnancy and anxiety hit VERY close to home. But I do look forward to more from her!
This book was compared to the Laura Ingalls Wilder books, but they have little in common with this book. In the "Little House" books (except for the last two), the story is told from a child's perspective. The books are full of love and adventure, new challenges are exciting. The Personal History of Rachel Dupree is told from a mother's perspective, so it is fraught with worry and anxiety. The drought, the sick milk cow, her unborn child, the empty cellar are all reasons to worry about the future and the survival of her children.
This book was quite well-written, but I wouldn't call it a pleasure to read. Throughout it, I felt troubled and nervous, which is a testament to the Weisgarberr's skills. Also, it is worth noting that i had just found out I was pregnant when I read this book. Rachel's sometimes problematic pregnancy and anxiety hit VERY close to home. But I do look forward to more from her!
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January 7, 2021I listened to this on audiobook, and the narrator is excellent. I LOVE this novel for giving me a glimpse into the life of a black woman married to a rancher who made use of the Homestead Act. Not only did we get to see what it was like for her in the Badlands, but we also saw pieces of her life in Chicago when she worked at a boardinghouse. The protagonist, Rachel, has a strong and vivid first-person voice, and her thoughts and reactions to her circumstances seem heartbreakingly realistic. Not only is she navigating a marriage of convenience, but she's a mother of five, with no neighbors in the Badlands, and must reconcile her husband's hatred of "Agency Indians" with her own experience with Mrs. Fills-the-Pipe.
The story kept me fully engaged, but it felt to me like it got cut off in the middle! I need a sequel. There was so much left unresolved. I don't need novels to all have happy, tidy endings all tied up in a bow, but this ending was not satisfying to me. I can use my imagination to wrap up Rachel's story in my mind, but I really wanted at least an epilogue. This is my great disappointment with The Personal History of Rachel DuPree. It feels unfinished.
However, having said that, I'm still glad I read it and appreciate gaining the perspective of a black family trying to ranch in the West in the early 1900s. I'd never read about this before, and I'm sure the character of Rachel will stick with me for a long time. I loved her.
I'll be reading more from this author.
The story kept me fully engaged, but it felt to me like it got cut off in the middle! I need a sequel. There was so much left unresolved. I don't need novels to all have happy, tidy endings all tied up in a bow, but this ending was not satisfying to me. I can use my imagination to wrap up Rachel's story in my mind, but I really wanted at least an epilogue. This is my great disappointment with The Personal History of Rachel DuPree. It feels unfinished.
However, having said that, I'm still glad I read it and appreciate gaining the perspective of a black family trying to ranch in the West in the early 1900s. I'd never read about this before, and I'm sure the character of Rachel will stick with me for a long time. I loved her.
I'll be reading more from this author.
August 2, 2011
I'm working my way through the Reader's Choice Nominees for this year at the Library and The Personal History of Rachel DuPree is my favorite so far!
I just finished reading this heartbreaking story and I desperately want to know, "What happens next?!!!" The novel is very well written. I could hardly stand to put it down. I wanted to get to a happy ending! I wanted everything to finally work out for Rachel!
I loved going back in history and getting a feel for life in the United States in the early 20th century. I sat on my comfy couch in my air conditioned home with all of the modern conveniences and I suffered with Rachel as she struggled to survive in the Dakota Badlands. Oh, how hard they had to work! I experienced with her the racial tensions and the prejudices the whites, blacks, and indians had for each other, and I wondered Why? Why can't we even now just all get along? Underneath our colors we are all the same. Rachel realizes this as Mrs. Fills the Pipe, an old indian squaw, is there for her when her own husband, Isaac, is not.
This book made me appreciate my life. It also made me appreciate my faith in God. Rachel struggled with her faith. I found myself wanting her to pray more for help! I wanted to pray for her!
I just finished reading this heartbreaking story and I desperately want to know, "What happens next?!!!" The novel is very well written. I could hardly stand to put it down. I wanted to get to a happy ending! I wanted everything to finally work out for Rachel!
I loved going back in history and getting a feel for life in the United States in the early 20th century. I sat on my comfy couch in my air conditioned home with all of the modern conveniences and I suffered with Rachel as she struggled to survive in the Dakota Badlands. Oh, how hard they had to work! I experienced with her the racial tensions and the prejudices the whites, blacks, and indians had for each other, and I wondered Why? Why can't we even now just all get along? Underneath our colors we are all the same. Rachel realizes this as Mrs. Fills the Pipe, an old indian squaw, is there for her when her own husband, Isaac, is not.
This book made me appreciate my life. It also made me appreciate my faith in God. Rachel struggled with her faith. I found myself wanting her to pray more for help! I wanted to pray for her!
December 15, 2022
Dark behind it rose the forest,
Rose the black and gloomy pine-trees,
Rose the firs with cones upon them;
Bright before it beat the water,
Beat the clear and sunny water
Beat the shining Big-Sea-Water.
. . . .
At the door on summer evenings,
Sat the little Hiawatha;
Heard the whispering of the pine-trees,
Heard the lapping of the waters,
Sounds of music, words of wonder.
- Hiawatha by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Black, White and Native American lives intersect in the Badlands of South Dakota. Rachel DuPree recounts a captivating tale of heart and homestead. Music, dancing and poetry all play their role in this story of secrets and decisions.
I think this is another of the many titles I picked up while working at Borders 2010-2011. I'm finally getting around to reading the book in 2020. I like to use audiobooks for most of my books (whenever available), and follow along with a printed copy. I recently found a library with an audiobook to help me. The library I borrowed from, wanted this item back within a week, so I listened and made notes at full-speed, end of November 2020.
I'm using this title as part of the Dare to Dream Group's Fall Reading Challenge for a title with the letters L-O-O and a story with a rural setting.
In 2022, I used the book again as Dare to Dream Group's Winter Reading Challenge for a title with the letters H-A-N-D.
Favorite Passages:
He could give a person the worst chore and make that person feel honored to be chosen. I'd had fourteen years to try to understand this about Isaac, about how he made this happen. This was what I'd come up with. It was because his eyes admired you for bearing up, and when he looked at you that way, there was nothing finer. And there was this, too, about Isaac. He didn't shy away from any chore. He knew what had to be done, and he did it.
________
Its walls were nothing but squares of sod. The ceilings sagged. The floors were dirt. Summers, grass grew on the inside walls and I'd take a match and burn the shoots to keep the prairie from staking a claim on the inside of our home.
Most folks in the Badlands that stayed longer than three years built themselves wood houses. These houses weren't grand, far from it. Most of the houses were low to the ground and not all that much bigger than a dugout. but Isaac held off for twelve years, not wanting to spend money on lumber. I imagined that gave folks around here something to talk about. But likely they talked anyway. We were the only Negroes in these parts.
_______
It was so big. All that land and sky, all that openness; there was no end to any of it. It made me feel small. It gave me a bad feeling. I didn't belong; this place called for bigger things than me. If for one second I lost sight of Isaac, I'd be alone and lost in this country that didn't have any edges. I said to him, "Will we be all right here?"
"I told you this wasn't anything like Chicago."
_______
There was something about slaughterhouse work that soured a man; even my mother said so. He could start off all right, but if he stayed more than a year, the work laid him low. Killing animals for a living broke a man's dreams, turned him bitter and mean. Or turned him to drink. That wasn't the kind of man I wanted. I wanted a man what aimed to better himself, what wasn't afraid to look inside a book, and was willing to save his money for something grander than a pint of beer.
_______
Isaac DuPree was a man set apart.
_______
. . . his voice carried me out of the kitchen so that I was someplace else altogether.
_______
"He even delivered a baby."
"Baby?" Bill Miller said. "There's women out there?"
Isaac shifted his attention from his mother to Bill Miller. "Sure. Some of the soldiers are married."
"But what about Indians?" Robert Bailey said. "Seen any?"
"Hell, yes," and then Isaac held up his hands. "Sorry, Mother."
_______
I thought about old newspaper accounts that told of red savages what drank the blood of little white children. That was after they'd scalped them, after they'd driven hatchets into the hearts of their fathers and ruined the honor of their mothers.
_______
"The Homestead Act doesn't care about the color of a man's skin. A man's a man in the West."
. . .
"It's right here in black and white, men. Can't get much truer than that. Here's how it works. You stake out the one sixty, give them eighteen dollars at the nearest land office - they call that a filing fee - and then you put up a house and farm five acres. Live on it for three years and it's all yours."
_______
Mrs. DuPree was on her way down, I told myself, but the next Mrs. DuPree - me - was on her way up.
_______
Eleven days ago Isaac DuPree had walked into the boardinghouse, and without giving it a thought, he'd made every one of us want something big.
_______
I had sold myself for a hundred and sixty acres of land.
_______
After a while, Fred said something about the battle of Wounded Knee Creek.
. . . .
"Always wished I'd been there."
"No. You don't. It was the bloodiest thing I've ever seen." Isaac picked up his fork, put it back down. "The snow. God, I'll never forget that red snow."
_______
It was our first summer in the Badlands when the Indian woman showed up. The memory of her came to me as clear as if it had just happened. It was so clear that I recalled the color of her dress, a faded blue.
_______
_______
I snapped my dishcloth at the flies crawling over the countertop.
All at once a pushed-away memory rose up in my mind. I stared out the kitchen window as the memory took shape.
_______
The rain was harder. Thunder surrounded us with its crashes; lightning lit up the room and just as quick, left us in the gloom. "Just a storm," I told the crying girls. "We're all right, just a little thunder."
_______
"There's plenty of room, she said, though I didn't see where. That is the most crowded house I've ever been in."
. . . .
"Mindy cleared a spot the width of a toothpick in front of the stove. That's where she put me. Mary slept under the kitchen table, Rounder on one side of her, Al's hound dog on the other. John bunked with their oldest boy."
_______
"And right before bedtime, there was a bunch of loud thunder, and we were all sitting in the kitchen when this ball of fire came down the stovepipe. It was this big." His cupped hands showed the size of a popcorn ball. "It was shooting sparks clear across the room. You should've seen it. It went round and round the cookstove, sizzling and cracking just like this." He filled up his cheeks and made exploding sounds.
_______
_______
Michael row the boat ashore, Hallelu . . . jah!
. . . .
Jordan's river is chilly and cold, Hallelu . . . jah.
Chills the body but not the soul, Hallelu . . . jah.
_______
"Why'd they hurt him that way?"
"I don't know," I said. "Some people carry hate, looks like. They don't need a reason to hurt somebody; they see their chance and they take it."
_______
". . . on summer nights in Chicago, when it was too hot to sleep, Mr. Brandon, a little tipsy, would come out on his front stoop and play that fiddle of his. His music pulled us to him; we couldn't help ourselves no matter how tired we were. We'd get out of our sticky, hot beds, make ourselves decent, and go outside. That man made us forget who we were."
_______
Get out the way for old Dan Tucker
He's too late to get his supper.
. . . .
Now old Dan Tucker is come to town
Swinging the ladies round and round
First to the right and then to the left
Then to the girl that he loves best.
________
When we first came out to the Badlands, Isaac was sure the country would fill up with Negroes. That hadn't happened.
The barn was quiet. Even the crickets had stopped their chirping.
_______
"Getting a baby born is hard work. You two'll go on to bed tonight, like always. When I need you - if I do - I'll wake you."
"Yes, Mama," Mary said.
"All right then." I put my mind to what came next. "You've seen calves being born. It's the same way for babies." Mary and John sucked in air. I had shocked them. I said, "I'll be bearing down, pushing to get the baby out. You might have to help; you might have to pull it out some."
_______
From far away, someone cried.
Then the knife, held by a firm hand, cut me.
_______
I looked past her.
Spread out before me was the Badlands. When I was new to it, its bigness scared me. There wasn't any end to it. There was nothing but canyons that cut the earth, knee-high prairie grasses that rippled and swayed like they were alive, and ranges of buttes rising sharp against the sky. The Badlands scared me, but as long as I was with Isaac, I was where I wanted to be.
_______
I did all this, but it was like I had stepped outside of myself and was watching form a distance. And yet everything was clear and sharp: the pain in Jerseybell's eyes, the white in Isaac's sideburns, the dirt under his fingernails.
_______
Oh, Mary, I thought. You're a good girl. You help with your sisters, and without being asked, you do whatever needs doing in the kitchen. You have a way with the cattle, and you sit well on a horse. When school's in session, you do your lessons. I couldn't ask for a better girl but I wish you weren't so tenderhearted. Life is hard on such people.
_______
"But not before Mary's sixteen," Isaac was saying. "She's not getting married before then. We need her here." He paused. "I'll find her a rancher, a good man who knows what he's doing, someone proud to have her."
"Maybe that's not what Mary has in mind. Maybe she wants to be a teacher, maybe even a nurse."
"She's a rancher's daughter. She'll want her own land."
It would never be hers, I thought. It'd always be her husband's. But Isaac was right. Mary was born to the life.
_______
I gathered up an old memory, a favorite that I pulled out sometimes to soften the hard times.
Rose the black and gloomy pine-trees,
Rose the firs with cones upon them;
Bright before it beat the water,
Beat the clear and sunny water
Beat the shining Big-Sea-Water.
. . . .
At the door on summer evenings,
Sat the little Hiawatha;
Heard the whispering of the pine-trees,
Heard the lapping of the waters,
Sounds of music, words of wonder.
- Hiawatha by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Black, White and Native American lives intersect in the Badlands of South Dakota. Rachel DuPree recounts a captivating tale of heart and homestead. Music, dancing and poetry all play their role in this story of secrets and decisions.
I think this is another of the many titles I picked up while working at Borders 2010-2011. I'm finally getting around to reading the book in 2020. I like to use audiobooks for most of my books (whenever available), and follow along with a printed copy. I recently found a library with an audiobook to help me. The library I borrowed from, wanted this item back within a week, so I listened and made notes at full-speed, end of November 2020.
I'm using this title as part of the Dare to Dream Group's Fall Reading Challenge for a title with the letters L-O-O and a story with a rural setting.
In 2022, I used the book again as Dare to Dream Group's Winter Reading Challenge for a title with the letters H-A-N-D.
Favorite Passages:
He could give a person the worst chore and make that person feel honored to be chosen. I'd had fourteen years to try to understand this about Isaac, about how he made this happen. This was what I'd come up with. It was because his eyes admired you for bearing up, and when he looked at you that way, there was nothing finer. And there was this, too, about Isaac. He didn't shy away from any chore. He knew what had to be done, and he did it.
________
Its walls were nothing but squares of sod. The ceilings sagged. The floors were dirt. Summers, grass grew on the inside walls and I'd take a match and burn the shoots to keep the prairie from staking a claim on the inside of our home.
Most folks in the Badlands that stayed longer than three years built themselves wood houses. These houses weren't grand, far from it. Most of the houses were low to the ground and not all that much bigger than a dugout. but Isaac held off for twelve years, not wanting to spend money on lumber. I imagined that gave folks around here something to talk about. But likely they talked anyway. We were the only Negroes in these parts.
_______
It was so big. All that land and sky, all that openness; there was no end to any of it. It made me feel small. It gave me a bad feeling. I didn't belong; this place called for bigger things than me. If for one second I lost sight of Isaac, I'd be alone and lost in this country that didn't have any edges. I said to him, "Will we be all right here?"
"I told you this wasn't anything like Chicago."
_______
There was something about slaughterhouse work that soured a man; even my mother said so. He could start off all right, but if he stayed more than a year, the work laid him low. Killing animals for a living broke a man's dreams, turned him bitter and mean. Or turned him to drink. That wasn't the kind of man I wanted. I wanted a man what aimed to better himself, what wasn't afraid to look inside a book, and was willing to save his money for something grander than a pint of beer.
_______
Isaac DuPree was a man set apart.
_______
. . . his voice carried me out of the kitchen so that I was someplace else altogether.
_______
"He even delivered a baby."
"Baby?" Bill Miller said. "There's women out there?"
Isaac shifted his attention from his mother to Bill Miller. "Sure. Some of the soldiers are married."
"But what about Indians?" Robert Bailey said. "Seen any?"
"Hell, yes," and then Isaac held up his hands. "Sorry, Mother."
_______
I thought about old newspaper accounts that told of red savages what drank the blood of little white children. That was after they'd scalped them, after they'd driven hatchets into the hearts of their fathers and ruined the honor of their mothers.
_______
"The Homestead Act doesn't care about the color of a man's skin. A man's a man in the West."
. . .
"It's right here in black and white, men. Can't get much truer than that. Here's how it works. You stake out the one sixty, give them eighteen dollars at the nearest land office - they call that a filing fee - and then you put up a house and farm five acres. Live on it for three years and it's all yours."
_______
Mrs. DuPree was on her way down, I told myself, but the next Mrs. DuPree - me - was on her way up.
_______
Eleven days ago Isaac DuPree had walked into the boardinghouse, and without giving it a thought, he'd made every one of us want something big.
_______
I had sold myself for a hundred and sixty acres of land.
_______
After a while, Fred said something about the battle of Wounded Knee Creek.
. . . .
"Always wished I'd been there."
"No. You don't. It was the bloodiest thing I've ever seen." Isaac picked up his fork, put it back down. "The snow. God, I'll never forget that red snow."
_______
It was our first summer in the Badlands when the Indian woman showed up. The memory of her came to me as clear as if it had just happened. It was so clear that I recalled the color of her dress, a faded blue.
_______
_______
I snapped my dishcloth at the flies crawling over the countertop.
All at once a pushed-away memory rose up in my mind. I stared out the kitchen window as the memory took shape.
_______
The rain was harder. Thunder surrounded us with its crashes; lightning lit up the room and just as quick, left us in the gloom. "Just a storm," I told the crying girls. "We're all right, just a little thunder."
_______
"There's plenty of room, she said, though I didn't see where. That is the most crowded house I've ever been in."
. . . .
"Mindy cleared a spot the width of a toothpick in front of the stove. That's where she put me. Mary slept under the kitchen table, Rounder on one side of her, Al's hound dog on the other. John bunked with their oldest boy."
_______
"And right before bedtime, there was a bunch of loud thunder, and we were all sitting in the kitchen when this ball of fire came down the stovepipe. It was this big." His cupped hands showed the size of a popcorn ball. "It was shooting sparks clear across the room. You should've seen it. It went round and round the cookstove, sizzling and cracking just like this." He filled up his cheeks and made exploding sounds.
_______
_______
Michael row the boat ashore, Hallelu . . . jah!
. . . .
Jordan's river is chilly and cold, Hallelu . . . jah.
Chills the body but not the soul, Hallelu . . . jah.
_______
"Why'd they hurt him that way?"
"I don't know," I said. "Some people carry hate, looks like. They don't need a reason to hurt somebody; they see their chance and they take it."
_______
". . . on summer nights in Chicago, when it was too hot to sleep, Mr. Brandon, a little tipsy, would come out on his front stoop and play that fiddle of his. His music pulled us to him; we couldn't help ourselves no matter how tired we were. We'd get out of our sticky, hot beds, make ourselves decent, and go outside. That man made us forget who we were."
_______
Get out the way for old Dan Tucker
He's too late to get his supper.
. . . .
Now old Dan Tucker is come to town
Swinging the ladies round and round
First to the right and then to the left
Then to the girl that he loves best.
________
When we first came out to the Badlands, Isaac was sure the country would fill up with Negroes. That hadn't happened.
The barn was quiet. Even the crickets had stopped their chirping.
_______
"Getting a baby born is hard work. You two'll go on to bed tonight, like always. When I need you - if I do - I'll wake you."
"Yes, Mama," Mary said.
"All right then." I put my mind to what came next. "You've seen calves being born. It's the same way for babies." Mary and John sucked in air. I had shocked them. I said, "I'll be bearing down, pushing to get the baby out. You might have to help; you might have to pull it out some."
_______
From far away, someone cried.
Then the knife, held by a firm hand, cut me.
_______
I looked past her.
Spread out before me was the Badlands. When I was new to it, its bigness scared me. There wasn't any end to it. There was nothing but canyons that cut the earth, knee-high prairie grasses that rippled and swayed like they were alive, and ranges of buttes rising sharp against the sky. The Badlands scared me, but as long as I was with Isaac, I was where I wanted to be.
_______
I did all this, but it was like I had stepped outside of myself and was watching form a distance. And yet everything was clear and sharp: the pain in Jerseybell's eyes, the white in Isaac's sideburns, the dirt under his fingernails.
_______
Oh, Mary, I thought. You're a good girl. You help with your sisters, and without being asked, you do whatever needs doing in the kitchen. You have a way with the cattle, and you sit well on a horse. When school's in session, you do your lessons. I couldn't ask for a better girl but I wish you weren't so tenderhearted. Life is hard on such people.
_______
"But not before Mary's sixteen," Isaac was saying. "She's not getting married before then. We need her here." He paused. "I'll find her a rancher, a good man who knows what he's doing, someone proud to have her."
"Maybe that's not what Mary has in mind. Maybe she wants to be a teacher, maybe even a nurse."
"She's a rancher's daughter. She'll want her own land."
It would never be hers, I thought. It'd always be her husband's. But Isaac was right. Mary was born to the life.
_______
I gathered up an old memory, a favorite that I pulled out sometimes to soften the hard times.
March 7, 2023
What an amazing book! I laughed, I cried, I cared about Rachel and her children.
Many LDS people read books about tough women, but those books seem not to allow the women to be angry. Rachel gets angry . (Thank goodness!)
A couple of interesting things I like about this black homesteader’s POV is the juxtaposition between the Blacks and the Native Americans. The emotional jockeying between groups who neither have voices that can be heard. Another thing is that the literature that Rachel had to share with her children were Western European. You know, dead white men.
I would love to read this again. Just not right away!
Many LDS people read books about tough women, but those books seem not to allow the women to be angry. Rachel gets angry . (Thank goodness!)
A couple of interesting things I like about this black homesteader’s POV is the juxtaposition between the Blacks and the Native Americans. The emotional jockeying between groups who neither have voices that can be heard. Another thing is that the literature that Rachel had to share with her children were Western European. You know, dead white men.
I would love to read this again. Just not right away!
March 7, 2015
Simultaneously heartbreaking and enjoyable story of a black family's struggle to survive the Badlands in the early 1900's. Powerful characters. Very engaging read.
August 29, 2016
Rachel has married up. She used to be a hired girl working in the kitchen at Mrs. Dupree’s boarding house. Mrs. Dupree was forced into taking in boarders when she was widowed, but she has done quite nicely for herself. She is among the cream of Chicago’s Negro community, and the women she entertains are light-skinned and at least four generations removed from slavery. Imagine her tremendous dismay when her only son, Isaac, comes home from fighting the Indian wars and announces that he is moving out to the Western territories to stake a claim and become a common farmer. “Rancher,” he reminds her. And if he marries a single woman who has also staked a claim, he will have twice as much land once they marry.
And so he stakes a claim on Rachel’s behalf, and she gets her heart’s desire: she gets to marry that handsome young officer. She becomes Rachel Dupree.
Roll the film forward about 14 years. Rachel is pregnant with her eighth child. The Badlands, “a country so backward and harsh that even Indians didn’t want it”, has had no rain for a long, long time. To get a little water, they have to tie one of their children to a plank and lower her on a rope to the bottom of the well. Liz doesn’t want to do it anymore. She has nightmares. There’s a snake down there, she says.
But their tongues are thick from lack of water. There is grit between their teeth. And they will lose the horses and their only milk cow if they don’t water them.
So at bedtime, Rachel tells her five surviving children to take just one sip of the water Liz brings up.
Are you spellbound, or are you horrified? I confess I was both. I live in the land of water. In Seattle there is moss growing on everyone’s front steps or porch, and if we aren’t careful, it will grow on our fences and our homes! Most of us don’t bother with umbrellas. We’re used to the fine mist that generally falls during the day. Most of the good hard rain falls at night, and it lulls us to sleep better than a lullaby. And yet, we send the kids to school carrying a water bottle anyway, because hydration is so important.
“Only a sip.”
I’m not the only one that doesn’t care for that. Rachel has about had enough of it, too. For one thing, there are no Negro families anywhere nearby. Isaac had told her that plenty of the men with whom he’d been enlisted had filed for homestead claims, but any that may have been nearby have gone on home. They can’t take it here. And actually? The white folk can’t stand it either. Every time someone goes home, Isaac buys their land. Every time there is a spare dollar, it does not go for a coat for the child who’s outgrowing hers; not even for fabric for Rachel to sew some new clothes. Rachel herself has a patched dress and a pair of work boots. What a contrast she makes from the finery she wore on her wedding day! And she is worried about their eldest daughter, Mary, who will be the right age to start dating soon.
The final straw is broken when Isaac buys out yet another departing neighbor–Rachel’s closest friend, too, as luck would have it–and there is no money at all. There is no money for winter provisions, even, and the kitchen garden died when the rain didn’t come. There is nothing, nothing, nothing. And his game plan is to work the gold mine in Lead, South Dakota, which is far enough away that he will be gone all winter, and she and the children will be left with a brand new baby and thousands of miles to ranch unassisted. And no food.
But hey, he believes in her. He’ll go hunting, maybe bag a bear together with his son, and between that and Rachel’s amazing know-how and steely determination, everything will turn out fine!
Not so much.
A strong subplot involves the local American Indian population. Homesteaders who are hungry, thirsty, and have almost nothing but the land on which they live and try to ranch are sometimes resentful of the “reservation Indians”, who have been stripped of their dignity and culture in exchange for free food, rent, and clothing (“free” being a relative term, of course). Isaac was one of the soldiers that subjugated those same Indians; when Rachel is alone on the ranch for days on end and Mrs. Fills the Pipe and her children pass by, Rachel craves company so desperately that she invites them to rest on her porch. She makes the very dead last of her chokeberry tea and serves it to Mrs. Fills the Pipe and her daughter.
“Our water?” said Liz. “You’re giving them our water?”
Liz had a point there; she was the one went down the well to get it. And yet, the good turn, though it upsets Isaac when he hears of it later, is not misplaced, and does not go unrewarded. And eventually Rachel thinks back to the things her hero, Ida B. Wells-Barnett, said in the Negro press (I use the term as the writer does, for historical purposes), she does not regret the gesture, except for the fact that she served them on the front porch when she should have invited them into her precious parlor.
I didn’t read this book as a galley, I got it at the local library. A galley led me to Weisberger, though. I read The Promise a year or two ago and decided that this writer was going on my to-read list. This makes two winners out of the two I have read. And on top of it all, Weisberger is a Caucasian writer (or appears to be; at any rate, she isn’t Black.) This is only the second writer I have encountered that could write a first-person fictional narrative in which she provides the voice of a Black woman, and does it creditably and with great dignity. I bow in awe.
And although I was already sold on the book and its author, the mention of Lead, South Dakota, nearly made me jump out of my skin. That is the tiny town where my late father was born, and its mine (gold but also iron ore) is where my late grandfather contracted the black lung disease that would eventually kill him. For those interested, it is pronounced “leed”. Maybe it’s too embarrassing to admit your home town is named after the mineral it produces, or maybe it’s a positive connotation, like leadership. My only visit there took place when I was a pre-schooler, and I have very few memories of it, all of them related to family rather than place.
Forgive the digression. All told, this is really strong historical fiction. If you want to read something a little different from most of the stuff that’s for sale; if you like stories of the homesteading movement; or if you want a story that features African-Americans in a positive light, this is your book. If you just want a great book to curl up with at night while the spring rains pass, this is your book too.
In short, highly recommended.
And so he stakes a claim on Rachel’s behalf, and she gets her heart’s desire: she gets to marry that handsome young officer. She becomes Rachel Dupree.
Roll the film forward about 14 years. Rachel is pregnant with her eighth child. The Badlands, “a country so backward and harsh that even Indians didn’t want it”, has had no rain for a long, long time. To get a little water, they have to tie one of their children to a plank and lower her on a rope to the bottom of the well. Liz doesn’t want to do it anymore. She has nightmares. There’s a snake down there, she says.
But their tongues are thick from lack of water. There is grit between their teeth. And they will lose the horses and their only milk cow if they don’t water them.
So at bedtime, Rachel tells her five surviving children to take just one sip of the water Liz brings up.
Are you spellbound, or are you horrified? I confess I was both. I live in the land of water. In Seattle there is moss growing on everyone’s front steps or porch, and if we aren’t careful, it will grow on our fences and our homes! Most of us don’t bother with umbrellas. We’re used to the fine mist that generally falls during the day. Most of the good hard rain falls at night, and it lulls us to sleep better than a lullaby. And yet, we send the kids to school carrying a water bottle anyway, because hydration is so important.
“Only a sip.”
I’m not the only one that doesn’t care for that. Rachel has about had enough of it, too. For one thing, there are no Negro families anywhere nearby. Isaac had told her that plenty of the men with whom he’d been enlisted had filed for homestead claims, but any that may have been nearby have gone on home. They can’t take it here. And actually? The white folk can’t stand it either. Every time someone goes home, Isaac buys their land. Every time there is a spare dollar, it does not go for a coat for the child who’s outgrowing hers; not even for fabric for Rachel to sew some new clothes. Rachel herself has a patched dress and a pair of work boots. What a contrast she makes from the finery she wore on her wedding day! And she is worried about their eldest daughter, Mary, who will be the right age to start dating soon.
The final straw is broken when Isaac buys out yet another departing neighbor–Rachel’s closest friend, too, as luck would have it–and there is no money at all. There is no money for winter provisions, even, and the kitchen garden died when the rain didn’t come. There is nothing, nothing, nothing. And his game plan is to work the gold mine in Lead, South Dakota, which is far enough away that he will be gone all winter, and she and the children will be left with a brand new baby and thousands of miles to ranch unassisted. And no food.
But hey, he believes in her. He’ll go hunting, maybe bag a bear together with his son, and between that and Rachel’s amazing know-how and steely determination, everything will turn out fine!
Not so much.
A strong subplot involves the local American Indian population. Homesteaders who are hungry, thirsty, and have almost nothing but the land on which they live and try to ranch are sometimes resentful of the “reservation Indians”, who have been stripped of their dignity and culture in exchange for free food, rent, and clothing (“free” being a relative term, of course). Isaac was one of the soldiers that subjugated those same Indians; when Rachel is alone on the ranch for days on end and Mrs. Fills the Pipe and her children pass by, Rachel craves company so desperately that she invites them to rest on her porch. She makes the very dead last of her chokeberry tea and serves it to Mrs. Fills the Pipe and her daughter.
“Our water?” said Liz. “You’re giving them our water?”
Liz had a point there; she was the one went down the well to get it. And yet, the good turn, though it upsets Isaac when he hears of it later, is not misplaced, and does not go unrewarded. And eventually Rachel thinks back to the things her hero, Ida B. Wells-Barnett, said in the Negro press (I use the term as the writer does, for historical purposes), she does not regret the gesture, except for the fact that she served them on the front porch when she should have invited them into her precious parlor.
I didn’t read this book as a galley, I got it at the local library. A galley led me to Weisberger, though. I read The Promise a year or two ago and decided that this writer was going on my to-read list. This makes two winners out of the two I have read. And on top of it all, Weisberger is a Caucasian writer (or appears to be; at any rate, she isn’t Black.) This is only the second writer I have encountered that could write a first-person fictional narrative in which she provides the voice of a Black woman, and does it creditably and with great dignity. I bow in awe.
And although I was already sold on the book and its author, the mention of Lead, South Dakota, nearly made me jump out of my skin. That is the tiny town where my late father was born, and its mine (gold but also iron ore) is where my late grandfather contracted the black lung disease that would eventually kill him. For those interested, it is pronounced “leed”. Maybe it’s too embarrassing to admit your home town is named after the mineral it produces, or maybe it’s a positive connotation, like leadership. My only visit there took place when I was a pre-schooler, and I have very few memories of it, all of them related to family rather than place.
Forgive the digression. All told, this is really strong historical fiction. If you want to read something a little different from most of the stuff that’s for sale; if you like stories of the homesteading movement; or if you want a story that features African-Americans in a positive light, this is your book. If you just want a great book to curl up with at night while the spring rains pass, this is your book too.
In short, highly recommended.
May 8, 2017
As this novel begins it is the early 1900's, and Rachel Reeves has been working as a cook for eight years at Mrs. DuPree's boarding house for black men in Chicago. Now 25, she is still unmarried, but attracted to Mrs. DuPree’s son Isaac, 31, who has been in the army for 13 years. (Isaac served in the 9th Cavalry Regiment, historically one of the original six regiments of the regular U.S. Army set aside for black enlisted men by Congress in the act of July 28, 1866 reorganizing the army for post-Civil War service, mainly against native peoples in the West.) Isaac intends to get land pursuant to the 1862 Homestead Act, providing that any man or unmarried woman could claim a hundred and sixty ares of public land out west. Even blacks were eligible - as Isaac explained to a friend: “The Homestead Act doesn’t care about the color of a man’s skin. A man’s a man in the West.”
Mrs. DuPree looks down on Rachel - she is “too dark,” not well-educated (she had to quit school to support her family), and doesn’t come from an aristocratic family. Nevertheless, the ambitious Isaac figures that with Rachel, he could get 320 acres instead of 160, and agrees to marry her for one year in exchange. Rachel intended to prove to Isaac in that year that he wouldn’t be able to do without her. Mrs. DuPree disowns Isaac for marrying “low” and the couple sets out for the South Dakota Badlands.
The book, narrated by Rachel, goes back and forth in time beginning when Rachel worked at the boarding house, and alternating with a period fourteen years after the couple left for the west. They now have five children, with another two having died as infants. Life in the Badlands is extremely difficult, but whenever they get extra money, Isaac uses it to buy yet more land; as the story begins, they have 2500 acres, but hardly enough food and water to survive.
Rachel increasingly feels that Isaac cares more about accumulating land than the welfare of the rest of the family, especially the children. Brave, resourceful, and determined, she makes a hard decision for her future.
Discussion: There are a couple of subplots in the story worth mentioning. One is the social divide between Northern and Southern blacks. If you read World of Our Fathers by Irving Howe you will be reminded of the similar friction between German and Russian Jewish immigrants to the United States, the former considering themselves a cut above the latter.
When Mrs. DuPree has Ida B. Wells come to speak to her ladies group, Rachel is delighted to discover that the famous and accomplished Mrs. Wells had been born a slave in Mississippi and related more to Rachel than the fancy women in the parlor. [Ida Bell Wells-Barnett born in 1862, was an African-American journalist, newspaper editor, suffragist, sociologist, feminist, an early leader in the Civil Rights Movement, and one of the founders of the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (NAACP) in 1909.]
Another thread running through the story is Isaac’s curiously virulent hostility toward Native Americans. Rachel doesn’t find out the reason for it until almost the end of the story. But hints of what happened arise periodically, and affect the family’s relationship with others out west.
Evaluation: This gem of a book grabbed me from the start. It’s not long, but manages to pack a lot into it, from conditions for early settlers in the west, to race relations, social conventions, gender roles and expectations, and family love and loyalty. It would make an excellent book club selection.
Awards:
Orange Prize Nominee for New Writers (2009)
David J. Langum Sr. Prize for American Historical Fiction (2010)
Note: A movie with an all-star cast (with Viola Davis, Mahershala Ali, and Quvenzhané Wallis is in the works.
Mrs. DuPree looks down on Rachel - she is “too dark,” not well-educated (she had to quit school to support her family), and doesn’t come from an aristocratic family. Nevertheless, the ambitious Isaac figures that with Rachel, he could get 320 acres instead of 160, and agrees to marry her for one year in exchange. Rachel intended to prove to Isaac in that year that he wouldn’t be able to do without her. Mrs. DuPree disowns Isaac for marrying “low” and the couple sets out for the South Dakota Badlands.
The book, narrated by Rachel, goes back and forth in time beginning when Rachel worked at the boarding house, and alternating with a period fourteen years after the couple left for the west. They now have five children, with another two having died as infants. Life in the Badlands is extremely difficult, but whenever they get extra money, Isaac uses it to buy yet more land; as the story begins, they have 2500 acres, but hardly enough food and water to survive.
Rachel increasingly feels that Isaac cares more about accumulating land than the welfare of the rest of the family, especially the children. Brave, resourceful, and determined, she makes a hard decision for her future.
Discussion: There are a couple of subplots in the story worth mentioning. One is the social divide between Northern and Southern blacks. If you read World of Our Fathers by Irving Howe you will be reminded of the similar friction between German and Russian Jewish immigrants to the United States, the former considering themselves a cut above the latter.
When Mrs. DuPree has Ida B. Wells come to speak to her ladies group, Rachel is delighted to discover that the famous and accomplished Mrs. Wells had been born a slave in Mississippi and related more to Rachel than the fancy women in the parlor. [Ida Bell Wells-Barnett born in 1862, was an African-American journalist, newspaper editor, suffragist, sociologist, feminist, an early leader in the Civil Rights Movement, and one of the founders of the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (NAACP) in 1909.]
Another thread running through the story is Isaac’s curiously virulent hostility toward Native Americans. Rachel doesn’t find out the reason for it until almost the end of the story. But hints of what happened arise periodically, and affect the family’s relationship with others out west.
Evaluation: This gem of a book grabbed me from the start. It’s not long, but manages to pack a lot into it, from conditions for early settlers in the west, to race relations, social conventions, gender roles and expectations, and family love and loyalty. It would make an excellent book club selection.
Awards:
Orange Prize Nominee for New Writers (2009)
David J. Langum Sr. Prize for American Historical Fiction (2010)
Note: A movie with an all-star cast (with Viola Davis, Mahershala Ali, and Quvenzhané Wallis is in the works.
November 17, 2011
The Personal History of Rachel DuPree by Ann Weisgarber is an award-winning fictional book taking place in the Badlands of South Dakota. The book follows the tough life in that area.
Sixteen year old Chicago resident Rachel Reeves works as a cook and experiences discrimination not only from whites, but from the élite African-Americans as well. However, Rachel is a proud woman who idolizes Ida B. Wells-Barnett, a fearless crusader and anti-lynching activate. When her boss’ son, Isaac, returns from the army Rachel agrees to marry him and move with the ambitious and charismatic man to the Badlands of South Dakota. Isaac and Rachel, taking advantage of the Homestead Act of 1862 will get 320 acres of land.
Eight kids and fourteen years later Rachel realizes everyday how the Badlands got their name as she experiences drought, storms, thirst, hunger, loneliness and many other hardships.
The Personal History of Rachel DuPree by Ann Weisgarber is a unique work, well written and an excellent first effort by the author.
There are many themes in this book, racism, hardships, pioneering, work ethic and American form of capitalism among others social themes. The story about living in a harsh environment was gripping and compelling. The “Personal History” of a black wife to a South Dakota rancher is fascinating.
The racism aspect of the book, to me, was the more pronounced hardship which Rachel experienced. Not only from the whites in Chicago, but also from the better-off African-Americans as well as some whites in the Badlands, a place where one would think people will stick together. The racism and discrimination towards Native-Americans was also touched in the book and certainly made some sour points on several occasions. The only character in this book who isn’t racist or discriminatory is the harsh land which treats everyone as equals.
For a few years, what seems a lifetime ago, I worked in agriculture. Thinking back it seemed like a fine time – great guys, the smell of the land, hard work, appreciation and a feeling of accomplishment making something grow. However, looking back with a bit more criticism than nostalgia, I remember how difficult it was getting up before the birds, dealing with stinky manure, chemicals and the back breaking labor. This book is not a romanticized version of pioneering, it tells of the difficulties out west, the hard work which can be wiped out in one day with nothing to show for it.
No subsidies.
No insurance.
Nothing!
This book, strong on characters and themes is a worthwhile read and an excellent choice for book clubs – there is much to discuss.
For more reviews and bookish posts please visit: http://www.ManOfLaBook.com
Sixteen year old Chicago resident Rachel Reeves works as a cook and experiences discrimination not only from whites, but from the élite African-Americans as well. However, Rachel is a proud woman who idolizes Ida B. Wells-Barnett, a fearless crusader and anti-lynching activate. When her boss’ son, Isaac, returns from the army Rachel agrees to marry him and move with the ambitious and charismatic man to the Badlands of South Dakota. Isaac and Rachel, taking advantage of the Homestead Act of 1862 will get 320 acres of land.
Eight kids and fourteen years later Rachel realizes everyday how the Badlands got their name as she experiences drought, storms, thirst, hunger, loneliness and many other hardships.
The Personal History of Rachel DuPree by Ann Weisgarber is a unique work, well written and an excellent first effort by the author.
There are many themes in this book, racism, hardships, pioneering, work ethic and American form of capitalism among others social themes. The story about living in a harsh environment was gripping and compelling. The “Personal History” of a black wife to a South Dakota rancher is fascinating.
The racism aspect of the book, to me, was the more pronounced hardship which Rachel experienced. Not only from the whites in Chicago, but also from the better-off African-Americans as well as some whites in the Badlands, a place where one would think people will stick together. The racism and discrimination towards Native-Americans was also touched in the book and certainly made some sour points on several occasions. The only character in this book who isn’t racist or discriminatory is the harsh land which treats everyone as equals.
For a few years, what seems a lifetime ago, I worked in agriculture. Thinking back it seemed like a fine time – great guys, the smell of the land, hard work, appreciation and a feeling of accomplishment making something grow. However, looking back with a bit more criticism than nostalgia, I remember how difficult it was getting up before the birds, dealing with stinky manure, chemicals and the back breaking labor. This book is not a romanticized version of pioneering, it tells of the difficulties out west, the hard work which can be wiped out in one day with nothing to show for it.
No subsidies.
No insurance.
Nothing!
This book, strong on characters and themes is a worthwhile read and an excellent choice for book clubs – there is much to discuss.
For more reviews and bookish posts please visit: http://www.ManOfLaBook.com
November 10, 2011
Ann Weisgarber’s debut novel has received many accolades, all well-deserved. Your heart will ache -- with love and despair, with wonder and disbelief, with hope and pride.
The Personal History of Rachel Dupree tells of life in the South Dakota Badlands in the early 1900s, when the last parcels of land in the U.S. Homestead Act were divvied up -- land so barren, remote and harsh that few had the fortitude and stubbornness to tame it. Anyone could make a claim to 160 acres -- even a single woman or a Negro, and Rachel Reeves was both. She worked as a housekeeper in Chicago, fell in love with Buffalo Soldier Isaac Dupree and dreamed of a better life. Isaac didn’t want a wife, but he did want more land. The two made a bargain -- each would stake a claim to 160 acres in South Dakota, they would marry and Isaac would own all 320 acres. Then Rachel would have one year to prove she was strong enough to be a rancher’s wife, or she would be shipped back to Chicago. Fourteen years later, with five children and a baby on the way, in the midst of a brutal drought, Rachel must somehow muster even more strength to do right by her family in impossibly hard times.
Weisgarber transports the reader to the harsh, lonely Badlands and sheds light on a little-known piece of American frontier history. Her description of events, emotions and landscape are vivid and haunting, beautiful and terrifying. I felt the grit in my skin and the ache in my belly. I wept the bittersweet tears of a mother’s heartbreak. Rachel Dupree grabbed hold of my hand in the very first paragraph, and I could not let go until the final page was turned. In fact, a part of me is still holding on…
The Personal History of Rachel Dupree tells of life in the South Dakota Badlands in the early 1900s, when the last parcels of land in the U.S. Homestead Act were divvied up -- land so barren, remote and harsh that few had the fortitude and stubbornness to tame it. Anyone could make a claim to 160 acres -- even a single woman or a Negro, and Rachel Reeves was both. She worked as a housekeeper in Chicago, fell in love with Buffalo Soldier Isaac Dupree and dreamed of a better life. Isaac didn’t want a wife, but he did want more land. The two made a bargain -- each would stake a claim to 160 acres in South Dakota, they would marry and Isaac would own all 320 acres. Then Rachel would have one year to prove she was strong enough to be a rancher’s wife, or she would be shipped back to Chicago. Fourteen years later, with five children and a baby on the way, in the midst of a brutal drought, Rachel must somehow muster even more strength to do right by her family in impossibly hard times.
Weisgarber transports the reader to the harsh, lonely Badlands and sheds light on a little-known piece of American frontier history. Her description of events, emotions and landscape are vivid and haunting, beautiful and terrifying. I felt the grit in my skin and the ache in my belly. I wept the bittersweet tears of a mother’s heartbreak. Rachel Dupree grabbed hold of my hand in the very first paragraph, and I could not let go until the final page was turned. In fact, a part of me is still holding on…
February 6, 2016
10 pages into the book I realized I had read this before. But instead of putting it away I re read the story with same eagerness and intensity that I had read it the first time. A black family trying to make it in the Badlands is almost like a revolt in itself against society's perception of the black people in the early twentieth century. Rachel Reeves is a cook at a boardinghouse in Chicago when the son of the owner, Mrs Dupree, Isaac comes for a visit. Although Mrs Dupree has dreams of Isaac help her run her 3 boardinghouses, Isaac dreams of ranching. Rachel Reeves falls in love with dashing Isaac Dupree but the man has a deal for her. If Rachel is ready to join the 160 acres of land that she can get from the Homestead Act with his, he can offer marriage. Rachel leaves all that she knows and loves in Chicago to follow the man of her dreams to become a pioneer woman.
Several years and several children later, we find Rachel Dupree battling a drought condition while being heavily pregnant. Isaac's desire to procure more land and cattle holds Rachel and her children in a situation which is extremely difficult. Yet the Race riots in the cities make returning home full of danger as well. Rachel Dupree, however, will make any sacrifice required of her to give her children 'a dab of sweetness' in life which they can hold on to when and if life throws up challenges.
Several years and several children later, we find Rachel Dupree battling a drought condition while being heavily pregnant. Isaac's desire to procure more land and cattle holds Rachel and her children in a situation which is extremely difficult. Yet the Race riots in the cities make returning home full of danger as well. Rachel Dupree, however, will make any sacrifice required of her to give her children 'a dab of sweetness' in life which they can hold on to when and if life throws up challenges.
September 4, 2010
The time is 1903. The setting is Chicago. Rachel is working as a cook in a boarding house, living at home with her parents to whom she hands over most of her paychecks to, and there are no marriage prospects in sight unless she wants to settle for a slaughter house worker and still be a cook in a boarding house ten years down the road. So when a fine fellow, Isaac Dupree comes around talking about 160 acres of South Dakota land, Rachel pretty much proposes to him. The deal: She gets her own 160 acres and hands it over to him in exchange for one year of marriage...
For full review and pictures, click the link below.
http://wwwbookbabe.blogspot.com/2010/...
For full review and pictures, click the link below.
http://wwwbookbabe.blogspot.com/2010/...
February 3, 2015
This was the story of Rachel and Isaac and the struggles they endured in the Badlands. I felt that this was a very depressing book to read. The relationship that Isaac and rachel had felt more like an arrangement and not a true marriage. It was so much hardship, that the entire time I was reading I was hoping for some happier moments. Also, I did not like the ending because it felt rushed and I wanted closure with this couple.
October 10, 2017
This was a good, well-written story...but it is just sooooo depressing. Drawing my own conclusions throughout the reading about the ending, I feel it is a satisfying story.
The two main characters (Rachel and Issac) have two separate destinations in mind, but they feel they can get to both places by traveling together on the same road. I think that was the root of their problems; they never really connected and got on the same page.
Again, this is a sad story, but it’s worth a read.
The two main characters (Rachel and Issac) have two separate destinations in mind, but they feel they can get to both places by traveling together on the same road. I think that was the root of their problems; they never really connected and got on the same page.
Again, this is a sad story, but it’s worth a read.
April 19, 2020
A book in a day; good story with issues—a white author giving voice to a black woman protagonist, the occasional yet inconsistent use of “folk” language, some historical references that have no basis in history. Since this was given to me by a friend, I wanted to read it and I did. But if it weren’t for the shelter in place orders I probably would have spent these past 6 hours doing something else. Always satisfying to finish a book though!
October 1, 2023
I would like to know the rest of the story! Having suffered through a killing drought, which followed 14 years of struggling to ranch in the Badlands, Rachel begins to question what she wants for her children. The writing makes you feel every breath of dust, heat, cold, hunger, anguish, that Rachel is struggling with.
February 2, 2018
Three stars or four? I'm not sure. A harsh look at the Badlands at the turn of the century.
May 25, 2012
I quite liked this book, and was very impressed with it for being the first novel of a non-writer (by profession. She wrote a book, so obviously she's a writer). The voice of the narrator, Rachel, was engaging, and she did a great job weaving the past events of her life into what was happening now. The author was also a master of showing, not telling, and you were able to get a detailed picture of relationships and personalities from very brief exchanges.
I loved the setting, both of place and time period. Rachel DuPree and her family are the only black settlers for hundreds of miles. Yet her husband came from an educated family in Chicago with money to spare. He chose the life of a rancher, and Rachel worked herself to the bone alongside him because she wanted to share his life. It was fascinating to see their love story pick up where it did: seven children and many hard years after Rachel first fell in love. It reminded me of "Love Comes Softly" in the whole 'you take what's at hand and make the best of it' mentality, except this book was about a million times better in every way. Both had a lot of descriptions of making biscuits.
On the personal side, this book made me appreciate the food in my kitchen and the water in my tap a whole lot more. It made my heart ache with gratitude that I will likely never see my children listless with hunger and thirst (despite their daily claims to be "starving" right before dinner), and it made me appreciate the ease of my chores and my abundant leisure time (although it never feels that way). I read this while reading a biography of my great-great-grandparents who came from the coal mines of England in 1880-ish and homesteaded in the mountains of Coalville, Utah. Nothing came easily, except for children dying. This book was set in the same time period on a homestead in the Badlands of South Dakota (wouldn't the name tip you off that it wasn't likely to be a good experience?) and while fictional, it was certainly based on reality. It was interesting to have a comparison to the experiences of my own pioneer ancestors.
The ending of the book was somewhat of a disappointment, because it left things very open-ended. Whenever I find myself displeased with an ending, I inevitably ask myself how I would have done it differently, and in this case I really don't know. It would take another novel to wrap up what was introduced in the last chapters of this book, one I wouldn't mind reading, but also don't mind imagining for myself. My guess is, though, that the low average star rating for this books is due to the disatisfaction of readers with the ending.
Anyway, I encourage my goodreads friends to read it. It's a quick, engaging read, and if you don't love it, you'll still probably consider it a good use of reading time.
I loved the setting, both of place and time period. Rachel DuPree and her family are the only black settlers for hundreds of miles. Yet her husband came from an educated family in Chicago with money to spare. He chose the life of a rancher, and Rachel worked herself to the bone alongside him because she wanted to share his life. It was fascinating to see their love story pick up where it did: seven children and many hard years after Rachel first fell in love. It reminded me of "Love Comes Softly" in the whole 'you take what's at hand and make the best of it' mentality, except this book was about a million times better in every way. Both had a lot of descriptions of making biscuits.
On the personal side, this book made me appreciate the food in my kitchen and the water in my tap a whole lot more. It made my heart ache with gratitude that I will likely never see my children listless with hunger and thirst (despite their daily claims to be "starving" right before dinner), and it made me appreciate the ease of my chores and my abundant leisure time (although it never feels that way). I read this while reading a biography of my great-great-grandparents who came from the coal mines of England in 1880-ish and homesteaded in the mountains of Coalville, Utah. Nothing came easily, except for children dying. This book was set in the same time period on a homestead in the Badlands of South Dakota (wouldn't the name tip you off that it wasn't likely to be a good experience?) and while fictional, it was certainly based on reality. It was interesting to have a comparison to the experiences of my own pioneer ancestors.
The ending of the book was somewhat of a disappointment, because it left things very open-ended. Whenever I find myself displeased with an ending, I inevitably ask myself how I would have done it differently, and in this case I really don't know. It would take another novel to wrap up what was introduced in the last chapters of this book, one I wouldn't mind reading, but also don't mind imagining for myself. My guess is, though, that the low average star rating for this books is due to the disatisfaction of readers with the ending.
Anyway, I encourage my goodreads friends to read it. It's a quick, engaging read, and if you don't love it, you'll still probably consider it a good use of reading time.
November 23, 2011
In this tale of a woman who basically sells herself into her marriage for 160 acres of unforgiving land in the South Dakota Badlands the reader sees the strength of the American homesteader.
Rachel Reeves was working in the kitchen of Mrs. DuPree's boarding house when Isaac DuPree comes home in his Army uniform. Rachel falls in love but Isaac has one thing on his mind; homesteading in the Badlands where he can stake his claim to 160 acres of land. To him land is everything. Rachel reminds him that as a single woman she too can claim 160 acres. She give him her claim if he agrees to marry her. They do marry and off they head to South Dakota.
In spite of Isaac offering her an out after one year of marriage they stay together forging a relationship, building a house and buying other ranches. They are never quite accepted by the others in town due to their color but they cannot be ignored because of the size of their holding.
All is going well until drought strikes and suddenly everything they have built together starts to implode. Rachel realizes that Isaac is not what she thought he was. Nor is she.
I read this book in one sitting. I couldn't put it down. It's powerful, it's compelling and it's hard to read. Not because of the writing; the writing is beautiful in a harsh, Badlands way but because of the topics. (They are startlingly beautiful but unbelievably harsh country. I loved visiting.) Rachel is a woman who knew what she wanted, went after it but got more than she bargained for. She got her man but he never cared for anything but the land. Everything he did was for that accursed land. What she wanted didn't count. Another woman who thought she would change a man....
The characters are well drawn and utterly fascinating. Isaac is a man who knows what he wants and will let nothing stand in his way. Rachel is a woman of strength, courage and love. Like every mother she wants more for her children than she had. When she realizes that life on the ranch is depriving them of many of the sweeter aspects of life she makes a hard decision that will effect all of their lives. I so wanted this book to continue. I felt as if I were immersed in the time period and in the world. Ms. Weisbarber's writing had the power to do that. You won't be disappointed in reading this book.
Rachel Reeves was working in the kitchen of Mrs. DuPree's boarding house when Isaac DuPree comes home in his Army uniform. Rachel falls in love but Isaac has one thing on his mind; homesteading in the Badlands where he can stake his claim to 160 acres of land. To him land is everything. Rachel reminds him that as a single woman she too can claim 160 acres. She give him her claim if he agrees to marry her. They do marry and off they head to South Dakota.
In spite of Isaac offering her an out after one year of marriage they stay together forging a relationship, building a house and buying other ranches. They are never quite accepted by the others in town due to their color but they cannot be ignored because of the size of their holding.
All is going well until drought strikes and suddenly everything they have built together starts to implode. Rachel realizes that Isaac is not what she thought he was. Nor is she.
I read this book in one sitting. I couldn't put it down. It's powerful, it's compelling and it's hard to read. Not because of the writing; the writing is beautiful in a harsh, Badlands way but because of the topics. (They are startlingly beautiful but unbelievably harsh country. I loved visiting.) Rachel is a woman who knew what she wanted, went after it but got more than she bargained for. She got her man but he never cared for anything but the land. Everything he did was for that accursed land. What she wanted didn't count. Another woman who thought she would change a man....
The characters are well drawn and utterly fascinating. Isaac is a man who knows what he wants and will let nothing stand in his way. Rachel is a woman of strength, courage and love. Like every mother she wants more for her children than she had. When she realizes that life on the ranch is depriving them of many of the sweeter aspects of life she makes a hard decision that will effect all of their lives. I so wanted this book to continue. I felt as if I were immersed in the time period and in the world. Ms. Weisbarber's writing had the power to do that. You won't be disappointed in reading this book.
November 7, 2011
Rarely have I experienced a historical novel such as this one. Ms Weisgarber has chosen to champion black women in the undeveloped and barren wilds of the Badlands, and she does it with a sensitivity that will break your heart, sparking feelings you didn't know you possessed. "The Personal History of Rachel DuPree" is a mightily rendered novel, it left me wondering how I could have held my breath such a long time.
One thing was certain and universal throughout this book and that was the push-pull of relationship between man and woman. So many have experienced this expectation of the "bargain" for a marriage that hinges upon love and trust often weighed heavily on the woman's side, only to feel that "hinge" rusting away over years of hardship and childbearing. It is particularly present in this novel, handled in profound and bittersweet passages that show the anxieties of a mother's love and protective life-blood vrs. a man's drive to save his land and work. I felt Rachel's heartaches, her loneliness at times, and her isolation in choosing to do what was the best for her children; and, ultimately, for herself. While she, too, believed in working and culling out their stretch of land, it was secondary to her children.
Rachel is a character so perfectly described and drawn that she's sure to be remembered in the vein of all great heroines. She's the epitome of not just black (Negro) women, but the best in the feminine spirit that causes us to rise above hardship and strife to claim our rights as women of valour, and mothers who make a difference in the world. She makes us proud to be women.
That Ms Weisgarber chose this time period and these characters to write her book shines in its originality. I believe it's a gift that will keep living in the hearts and minds of many. Actually, I expect it will end up in the classrooms and colleges that reach for exceptional reading material of this period and of women who exempify those who made our country what it was meant to be.
"The Personal History of Rachel DuPree" makes me ashamed in a way that we haven't explored and honored black womens' contributions in opening our frontiers before this!
5 well-deserved stars
One thing was certain and universal throughout this book and that was the push-pull of relationship between man and woman. So many have experienced this expectation of the "bargain" for a marriage that hinges upon love and trust often weighed heavily on the woman's side, only to feel that "hinge" rusting away over years of hardship and childbearing. It is particularly present in this novel, handled in profound and bittersweet passages that show the anxieties of a mother's love and protective life-blood vrs. a man's drive to save his land and work. I felt Rachel's heartaches, her loneliness at times, and her isolation in choosing to do what was the best for her children; and, ultimately, for herself. While she, too, believed in working and culling out their stretch of land, it was secondary to her children.
Rachel is a character so perfectly described and drawn that she's sure to be remembered in the vein of all great heroines. She's the epitome of not just black (Negro) women, but the best in the feminine spirit that causes us to rise above hardship and strife to claim our rights as women of valour, and mothers who make a difference in the world. She makes us proud to be women.
That Ms Weisgarber chose this time period and these characters to write her book shines in its originality. I believe it's a gift that will keep living in the hearts and minds of many. Actually, I expect it will end up in the classrooms and colleges that reach for exceptional reading material of this period and of women who exempify those who made our country what it was meant to be.
"The Personal History of Rachel DuPree" makes me ashamed in a way that we haven't explored and honored black womens' contributions in opening our frontiers before this!
5 well-deserved stars
August 12, 2020
Rachel works in the boarding house of Mrs. Dupree as a cook. When her son, Isaac, comes to visit from the Army Rachel becomes infatuated with him and she wants to have a better life and feels she can do it with him because he has ambition. He wants to claim land in South Dakota Badlands and if Rachel will stake a claim as a single Negro woman he can get twice as much. They agree then to marry and stay together for one year.
The story is told in flashbacks with Rachel remembering how things were in Chicago. Life is hard in the Badlands. The story starts with Rachel pregnant with her eighth child during the summer of a drought. They had very little water, the well was running dry and they resorted to lowering their daughter, Liz, into the well to get what water she could. The wind blew constantly, there was dust everywhere. They couldn't wash dishes, clothes or themselves. Isaac believed that how much land he had was the measure of a man. He took care of his family but his main focus was the ranch and how to make it succeed but at the same time keeping them poor because he would buy up land as other homesteaders would leave. Rachel was doing what she could to keep her family safe. She was tough and in the end she does what she feels is right for her children but all the way up to the end I felt she wasn't thinking straight, she was grief stricken, she shouldn't burn her bridges but then it
all became clearer.
This is not a feel good book. It is about hardship and loneliness. Rachel was left with the children while Isaac ran around making deals and being gone days at a time. She kept the ranch going while being heavily pregnant, no one to talk to, no neighbors for miles and miles and her family in far away Chicago. Sometimes the story was just incredibly sad.
The story is told in flashbacks with Rachel remembering how things were in Chicago. Life is hard in the Badlands. The story starts with Rachel pregnant with her eighth child during the summer of a drought. They had very little water, the well was running dry and they resorted to lowering their daughter, Liz, into the well to get what water she could. The wind blew constantly, there was dust everywhere. They couldn't wash dishes, clothes or themselves. Isaac believed that how much land he had was the measure of a man. He took care of his family but his main focus was the ranch and how to make it succeed but at the same time keeping them poor because he would buy up land as other homesteaders would leave. Rachel was doing what she could to keep her family safe. She was tough and in the end she does what she feels is right for her children but all the way up to the end I felt she wasn't thinking straight, she was grief stricken, she shouldn't burn her bridges but then it
all became clearer.
This is not a feel good book. It is about hardship and loneliness. Rachel was left with the children while Isaac ran around making deals and being gone days at a time. She kept the ranch going while being heavily pregnant, no one to talk to, no neighbors for miles and miles and her family in far away Chicago. Sometimes the story was just incredibly sad.
May 19, 2023
Quando penso a questo romanzo mi vengono in mente cinque immagini: Nella prima travedo la serenità e la voglia di vivere della popolazione di etnia nera a Chicago all'inizio del 900' e penso a Rachel con la sua famiglia, d'origine e a tutte le opportunità che le sono state offerte da un lavoro e del vivere liberi non più schiavi; Nella seconda immagine vedo Isaac, suo futuro marito, militare in divisa, che incita gli operai del mattatoio, di proprietà di sua Madre Mrs. DuPree, a partire verso West con la illusione di diventare proprietari terrieri e coloni liberi nel South Dakota... Nella terza vedo questa giovane coppia, appena sposata, iniziando la loro avventura, sento lo shock dovuto agli smisurati cambiamenti fra la loro vita a Chicago e quella nelle badlands del South Dakota... La quarta immagine mi porta a sentire con Isaac la sua smisurata l'ambizione e poi con Rachel l'urticante dolore di madre che perde i suoi bambini... La quinta sento con Rachel il coraggio di scappare tentando di migliorare e di dare nuove opportunità di vita e progresso ai suoi figli (John, Mary, Emma e Liz)!
Avete mai sentito parlare di coloni neri nel West, nei primi anni del Novecento, precisamente nel 1917, nel South Dakota nelle Badlands? No? Leggere questo libro è l’occasione buona per togliere un po’ di polvere a una storia americana poco conosciuta. Coloni neri poveri in canna, che vivevano in una prateria arida e secca, dove la siccità la faceva da padrona e il vento sollevava polvere ed erbacce. In questa terra ostile, dove anche le labbra si seccavano a causa del caldo e della mancanza di acqua, l’autrice ambienta una storia coinvolgente fino all’ultima pagina, protagonista il coraggio di una madre e moglie chiamata Rachel DuPree.
In una nota finale del romanzo la scrittrice americana racconta come ha trovato l’ispirazione per la storia. Durante una visita al Badlands National Park nel South Dakota, Ann Weisgarber aveva visitato una casetta di terra ricavata nel fianco di una piccola collina. Il tetto cedeva e degli steli di erba delle praterie lunghi trenta centimetri crescevano tra le placche di lamiera sul soffitto. All’interno regnava un odore di umido e muffa. Il pavimento era di terra battuta, e alcuni fogli di giornale ingialliti erano incollati ai muri per coprire i mattoni di terra. Una stufa panciuta occupava gran parte del salotto, e siccome il legno scarseggiava erano ammonticchiati in un secchio lì vicino degli escrementi secchi di mucca da bruciare come combustibile. In cucina, la stanza più grande, c’era un fornello nero lucido. La terra attorno al fornello era stata calpestata più che altrove sino a formare una specie di sentiero. Sicuramente una donna lì vi aveva passato gran parte delle sue giornate per preparare da mangiare. Forse quel fornello poteva essere stato un peso per la donna, ma il fornello era suo e solo suo e ciò doveva averla resa orgogliosa.
Lo spunto successivo per il futuro romanzo si era presentato qualche giorno dopo, quando l’autrice si era fermata in un museo lungo una strada del South Dakota, lì aveva notato la fotografia di una donna afroamericana seduta da sola davanti a una casetta di terra. Era nato il personaggio di Rachel DuPree, eroina nera, cresciuta in Louisiana in una baracca, dove il padre era nato schiavo, trasferitasi in seguito con la famiglia a Chicago, moglie paziente di Isaac, madre amorevole e solerte di sette figli (due morti e uno in arrivo, anche lui bisognoso d’acqua) tra i quali Mary di tredici anni, John, di dieci anni, e la piccola Liz di sei, che viveva in una casa di legno.
Circondata dalla polvere e attanagliata dalla mancanza di acqua, non pioveva da due mesi, la pazienza di Rachel si stava sbriciolando, come una manciata di polvere che scivolava dalle dita. Il sogno di essere un proprietario terriero di Isaac stava costando caro a tutta la famiglia.
“Il vortice di sabbia si contorse come un lenzuolo sul filo del bucato, si raccolse e si mosse verso la casa”.
Un romanzo attualissimo, dedicato “A mio marito, Robert L. Weisgarber”, che tratta anche un tema stringente, un problema ormai planetario, quello della siccità. Infatti, secondo le stime, entro il 2050 la siccità potrebbe colpire tre quarti della popolazione mondiale.
“Le cose si sarebbero sistemate lì da noi. Per forza. Prima o poi sarebbe dovuta finire quella siccità. Smettila di compatirti, concentrati sul tuo lavoro”.
Avete mai sentito parlare di coloni neri nel West, nei primi anni del Novecento, precisamente nel 1917, nel South Dakota nelle Badlands? No? Leggere questo libro è l’occasione buona per togliere un po’ di polvere a una storia americana poco conosciuta. Coloni neri poveri in canna, che vivevano in una prateria arida e secca, dove la siccità la faceva da padrona e il vento sollevava polvere ed erbacce. In questa terra ostile, dove anche le labbra si seccavano a causa del caldo e della mancanza di acqua, l’autrice ambienta una storia coinvolgente fino all’ultima pagina, protagonista il coraggio di una madre e moglie chiamata Rachel DuPree.
In una nota finale del romanzo la scrittrice americana racconta come ha trovato l’ispirazione per la storia. Durante una visita al Badlands National Park nel South Dakota, Ann Weisgarber aveva visitato una casetta di terra ricavata nel fianco di una piccola collina. Il tetto cedeva e degli steli di erba delle praterie lunghi trenta centimetri crescevano tra le placche di lamiera sul soffitto. All’interno regnava un odore di umido e muffa. Il pavimento era di terra battuta, e alcuni fogli di giornale ingialliti erano incollati ai muri per coprire i mattoni di terra. Una stufa panciuta occupava gran parte del salotto, e siccome il legno scarseggiava erano ammonticchiati in un secchio lì vicino degli escrementi secchi di mucca da bruciare come combustibile. In cucina, la stanza più grande, c’era un fornello nero lucido. La terra attorno al fornello era stata calpestata più che altrove sino a formare una specie di sentiero. Sicuramente una donna lì vi aveva passato gran parte delle sue giornate per preparare da mangiare. Forse quel fornello poteva essere stato un peso per la donna, ma il fornello era suo e solo suo e ciò doveva averla resa orgogliosa.
Lo spunto successivo per il futuro romanzo si era presentato qualche giorno dopo, quando l’autrice si era fermata in un museo lungo una strada del South Dakota, lì aveva notato la fotografia di una donna afroamericana seduta da sola davanti a una casetta di terra. Era nato il personaggio di Rachel DuPree, eroina nera, cresciuta in Louisiana in una baracca, dove il padre era nato schiavo, trasferitasi in seguito con la famiglia a Chicago, moglie paziente di Isaac, madre amorevole e solerte di sette figli (due morti e uno in arrivo, anche lui bisognoso d’acqua) tra i quali Mary di tredici anni, John, di dieci anni, e la piccola Liz di sei, che viveva in una casa di legno.
Circondata dalla polvere e attanagliata dalla mancanza di acqua, non pioveva da due mesi, la pazienza di Rachel si stava sbriciolando, come una manciata di polvere che scivolava dalle dita. Il sogno di essere un proprietario terriero di Isaac stava costando caro a tutta la famiglia.
“Il vortice di sabbia si contorse come un lenzuolo sul filo del bucato, si raccolse e si mosse verso la casa”.
Un romanzo attualissimo, dedicato “A mio marito, Robert L. Weisgarber”, che tratta anche un tema stringente, un problema ormai planetario, quello della siccità. Infatti, secondo le stime, entro il 2050 la siccità potrebbe colpire tre quarti della popolazione mondiale.
“Le cose si sarebbero sistemate lì da noi. Per forza. Prima o poi sarebbe dovuta finire quella siccità. Smettila di compatirti, concentrati sul tuo lavoro”.
June 19, 2025
I like the setting of this book. You don’t typically think about Black people in the Midwest around the turn of the century. I also don’t see a lot of books that talk about the relationships between Black people and Native Americans. So there is a lot of really interesting context in this book. However, it feels like an accounting (and to be fair, that’s what the title implies) as opposed to a story, which really made the ending feel like an unfinished letdown. There’s a lot of questions and not enough information to draw your own conclusions.
March 15, 2021
Really great writing and storytelling about an African American couple who see a promising future in the Homestead Act. I deeply felt Rachel's struggles as a young wife and mother in the Dakota Badlands. But what does a woman do when her husband insists on being her Lord and Master? It's a captivating tale as old as time, especially when written by someone as accomplished as Weisgarber, who is being compared with other great authors for good reason. I so want a sequel to this; moreover, I'm very eager to see the film being made by Viola Davis.
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