A little book review this rainy Sunday afternoon.

32. Wandering Stars by Tommy Orange. A book that’s simultaneously an easy read while also being very likely the most depressing book I’ll read all year. And yes before everyone chimes in, I’m well aware that depressing books can and often are worthwhile in how they point out the horror of all that’s been and was and still is right under our noses. Still though? Doesn’t mean these books – or this one in particular – are quite the type of books I love to read. This book is a rough one. It frankly unveils the horrors of both addiction and loss of cultural identity as it explores the aftershocks and still reverberating effects of the systemic erasure of Native American life and culture throughout the United States. Sometimes one would wish that we lived in a world where such horrors were not perpetrated by those in power, yet we cannot close our mind to history or deny that such events ever existed. And so I’m grateful for books like this that seek to show through the sweep of history and might-have-been personal narrative that the brokenness of this world is not so easily fixed as some might believe. I also found reading it a troubling experience, a lot of content warnings here, as the saying goes. I really do hate reading books with addiction themes. And…pretty much every single main character in this book struggles with such. I don’t think I could read this book again. Yet still – I did breathe a sigh of relief to see signs of hope at the very end of this tale, a hope that points to something better beyond the curve of the road ahead. As much as addiction and loss are all over this book, there is also just a bit of recovery.

And beyond the addiction themes, there are many discussions of identity and what it means to have a certain cultural identity. What is cultural identity and what brings such? Is it blood, is it cultural heritage, is it geographical longevity and ties to a certain piece of land? Is it familial connections or is it merely knowledge and being connected to that which came before? We all long for an identity as such – we wish to be known and valued for who we are – but who are we? It is difficult for me to overmuch critically analyse this book as I’m aware there are many questions that I am ill qualified to answer. This is a book written from a cultural minority viewpoint and thus questions are raised that I have never had to face sheerly due to the – at least outward – fact that I am in a cultural majority position. Does this mean I have the luxury of not thinking or caring about my cultural and/or ethnographic identity? I would argue part of my apathy in regards to such lies with my belief in Christ and that my true identity is found in being a Christian. Such tags as “race/colour/nation” are not ones I resonate with and find them less than helpful at times. Yet still I must and do recognize it is easier for me to shelve those labels as I don’t have to live in a society in which I am a minority. I must remember this. I don’t think this is a book I shall revisit and likely one I will not keep on my shelf. Yet. This book spawned a lot of thought and I am grateful for such, as much as I did not always agree with the author on some of the answers he pointed towards. I am grateful for the author sharing his perspectives and yes, even a piece of his story.