Oak Flat

 
Art!

Art!

 

Author: Lauren Redniss

Publication: 2020

Genre: Nonfiction, History, Graphic Media

This was super well done, and I think an important read for me as an Arizona transplant. Oak Flat is an area sacred to the Apache tribes that were displaced to a reservation east of Phoenix. The area is rich in copper and has periodically been mined, which both and stimulates the local economy temporarily and destroys the landscape basically forever. A huge mining conglomerate is working to obtain the rights to mine Oak Flat despite substantial opposition from the local community. Redness follows two families in the town of Superior, Arizona, an Apache-Navajo family advocating against the mine and an Anglo family who are less opposed. (A few other viewpoints briefly feature as well.) 

I was 0% aware of the history of mining in Arizona, or even its prevalence, until I accidentally drove through some of the areas mentioned in the text. (I was doing a no-destination long drive as a way of getting out of the house on my birthday in summer 2020.) So this was really eye-opening.

I didn’t care for the mixed media format at first, but it grew on me. I would have loved to see more photographs of the people and places featured alongside the artwork.

Pretty typical page example

Pretty typical page example

I also would have appreciated family trees for the two families that are central to the story. The reader is expected to keep track of a lot of people who go in and out and how they’re related, which is sometimes a lot.

Lastly, I got the chance to attend a webinar given by the author about the book shortly after I finished it. That was super fun, and something I would love to do with more authors of nonfiction work especially. She had some great thoughts about her role as a journalist versus an activist on this project.

Killers of the Flower Moon (7/10)

 
Ominous.

Ominous.

 

Author: David Grann

Publication: 2017

Genre: Nonfiction, History

This account of the Osage murders was recommended to me by a colleague a few years ago. In the first eighty pages of this book I was convinced I was going to love it. The drama, the intrigue, the violence, the suspense! Unfortunately, the big reveal halfway through rather ruins the rest of the tale. After the primary perpetrator is revealed and his motives shown to be all too banal – do I care about precisely which horse thieves and ruffians were his accomplices? (No.) I’m also not that interested in the backstory of the FBI guy sent to clean up the mess, former Texas Ranger or no.

On one hand, Grann’s prose makes for a quick and easy read, and he does a compelling job of linking modern families to their not-so-distant history. On the other, he introduces and discards way too many characters. Fifty pages later I do not remember which now-jailed horse thief lied about what (see above). Grann likes to draw on related but not-strictly-pertinent anecdotes to make a point. I also couldn’t figure out the choice of images throughout the book – why so many similar portraits of Mollie Burkhart?

This book struck me as the result of someone with a lot of material who wasn’t sure how to best put it all together. That was a disappointment after the enthralling introductory chapters. The Osage murders are a fascinating (and shameful) story to bring into the present day. I wish the aftermath had been covered as adeptly.

Rising from the Plains (6/10)

 
Westward Ho (which I have just learned is a building in downtown Phoenix)

Westward Ho (which I have just learned is a building in downtown Phoenix)

 

Author: John McPhee

Publication: 1986

Genre: Nonfiction, History, Science

I feel guilty about the relatively low score on this one. It’s not a bad book. If written in 2021 it might even be a really good book! But both its history and its geology are dated in really glaring ways, and there’s just not enough else there to elevate it.

Rising from the Plains is the third volume that eventually comprises Annals of the Former World, a series of four wanderings across American geology and history. I was recommended the series by a fellow geologist a few years back, and I’ve been working my way through them (slowly, as I am wont to do with series). The two previous volumes are Basin and Range and In Suspect Terrain.

Plains focuses on Wyoming; a landscape with punishing climate and fascinating geologic complexity. McPhee brings to light his travels old-school field geologist and Wyoming native Dr. David Love. McPhee skillfully entwines human and geologic history into a single tale. There are cowboys and snowstorms and grumpy old-school geologists. The historical anecdotes are fun and help set the scene, but the perspective cannot help but feel dated.

It’s unfortunate that the geologic picture, too, remains stuck forty years in the past. The section that fascinated me the most concerned the volcanic islands of the world formed by hotspots under moving plates (not just the famous Hawaii!). I would love to know more about what we’ve discovered since then. As a geologist I long for an annotated version that tells me when the details are not quite right. And while they’re at it, I would kill for some glossy color images of all the glossily described formations. I don’t regret my foray into Annnals of a Former World, and I’ll likely finish it, but I’m less likely to recommend it to a general audience.

The Broken Heart of America (8/10)

 
What an image.

What an image.

 

Author: Walter Johnson

Publication: 2020

Genre: History

You ever find a book that makes you want to rage-quit America approximately twice per chapter?

Broken Heart is subtitled St Louis and the Violent History of the United States. The text more than delivers on the promise of violence. Johnson uses the history of St. Louis as a series of examples of the worst conduct in American history, from Indian wars to race riots to police shootings. It highlights some instances in which St. Louis was uniquely terrible in its treatment of black and brown and poor people, and others in which it was merely a uniquely good example of same.

I lived in St. Louis for five years during grad school. This book both confirmed a lot of things I had noticed and taught me about other horrors that escaped my eye.

A shortlist:

-The much-touted St. Louis World’s Fair featured a human zoo, possibly the world’s largest. It was in Forest Park, which I lived adjacent to and often visited. The park is now home to museums and an actual animal zoo. (Coincidentally, Broken Heart and my previous post, 1493, both include the sad story of Ota Benga.)

-St. Louis’ 4th of July celebration, often held downtown by the Arch but during my tenure mostly held in Forest Park, was begun by the Veiled Prophet association. The Veiled Prophet is a masked KKK-esque figure who heads a debutante ball every year to this day. Look that one up.

-St. Louis is the only U.S. city with four interstate highways. Several of them were put down by aggressively relocating Black communities.

-While many of the dead end streets in St. Louis are the product of recent changes, there are exceptions. Namely, the wealthy residences off of Lindell and Kingshighway are creations of the 1880s. The gates, the private security, all of it – is 140 years of the same BS. Remember the summer of 2020 and the angry white lawyer couple waving guns at protestors? Guess where they live.

Broken Heart is a good read. I’ll knock a few points off my review simply because Johnson’s agenda is a little too clear. As a reader I can make connections for myself, thanks. I do not need to be reminded every two pages that capitalism and racism are tied up in the same agenda. You mentioned.

Johnson also plays a little fast and loose with the details – like when he claims an area of the city is barren after highway construction. Well, no. Certainly the former housing no longer exists and the area is dramatically changed. But I’ve stayed in a hotel, visited a pub, and picked up packages from a UPS shipping center all in that area, so claims like that don’t ring true for me.

I’m not sure I can say I “enjoyed” this book due to its dark content. I do feel better informed after having read it. It may have a narrow audience, as it might hold less interest for someone not familiar with St. Louis, but I’ll argue that it’s an important read for that audience.

1493 (8/10)

 
The cover image appears in a fascinating section about racial mixing in the Americas.

The cover image appears in a fascinating section about racial mixing in the Americas.

 

Author: Charles C. Mann

Publication: 2011

Genre: History

1493 is a reflection on the Columbian exchange. That phenomenon, initiated with Hispaniola’s first contact with Columbus the preceding year, encompassed not only agriculture and animals but disease, ideas, practices, and most critically, people. 

Mann’s narrative pans back and forth across Europe, Africa, Asia, and the Americas as well as up and down the historical timeline. We learn about diseases that contributed to the rise of chattel slavery, how Spain’s desire for silver upended hemispheres, and how the exchange of new crops enabled population booms around the world. We often get a look at how these historical happenings are still affecting the present day (and the future).

Mann delights in calling out the European conquistadors, profiteers, etc. on their atrocities. (The book opens with a subsection on Columbus, which is, shall we say, not flattering.) Mann attempts to pull in non-European experiences despite their lack of voices in a lot of the recorded history. E.g., one of my favorite passages, pp.443 of the paperback: 

“Labor was to be provided by enslaving local Indians, some of whom would also be sold in Hispaniola. The Indians saw no reason to participate in this scheme and expressed their lack of enthusiasm by riddling the invaders with poisoned arrows.” 

I had read 1491, Mann’s book on pre-Columbian cultures in the Americas, over the previous summer while in Mauritius. I found 1493 a bit less interesting, perhaps because the society building focus of the previous book appeals more than economics and virology. In 1493 I could have had less about potatoes and malaria, and shorter chapters on the whole. However, the chapters on human movements during the Colombian exchange were fascinating. They should teach us more of that history in school!

A few worldview-shifting fun facts I learned:

-Potatoes really are superfoods that provide almost all the nutrients humans need.

-The Jamestown settlers struggled with bad water in part because they were setting up shop in the Chesapeake Bay impact crater. Geology affects everything.

-There are a lot of escaped slave and native communities in the Americas that haven’t gotten much historical recognition.

While 1493 drags occasionally, on the whole I recommend it as a sweeping history of a critical shift in the course of human existence.

The Heartbeat of Wounded Knee (6/10)

 
A good thick paperback.

A good thick paperback.

 

Author: David Treuer

Publication: 2019

Genre: Nonfiction/History

I can’t recall where I first heard about this book. It kept cropping up online and so when I made my big Powell’s order a few months ago I added it on a whim. Last summer I read 1492, which explores little-known histories of native peoples of the Americas. I had gotten more interested in the subject after moving to Arizona (although before I moved from St. Louis I did visit Cahokia.) I’d never lived somewhere with substantial numbers of Native Americans, and in many ways I don’t think their experience as modern people was “real” to me. A reminder that learning about my privilege and others’ experiences is an ongoing journey.

Summary: The basic structure of the book follows the history of Indians (the main term the author uses), starting with a brief recap of pre-European contact. The rest of the book is focused on history after 1890, the year of the Wounded Knee Massacre that for some marks the symbolic decline of Indian life. It traces the various ways the American government has failed Indians throughout history, and the ways they responded. Treuer sprinkles interviews and a healthy dose of his own (Ojibwe) family history throughout. The author takes great pains to place this Indian history within the context of United States history as a whole. Treuer’s central thesis is that Indians have not been erased, should not be thought of as “dying out”, and are actively writing their own stories today. This argument gives the book its title, a response to Dee Brown’s Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee. I haven’t read it, but my understanding is it concerns the destruction of Indian cultures.

My take: I learned a *lot* reading this book. A lot that should probably be covered in schools, frankly. I learned a little about the battles growing up and I was aware of, for instance, Indian boarding schools (thanks, Dear America!), but that just scratches the surface. I was never taught how tribes interacted with each other and Europeans after contact other than warfare and disease. I was never taught how migration and consolidation of tribes occurred. I was never taught that the American government actively tried to assimilate Indians and force them to give up their culture. I had never given any thought to the fact that having a Native American identity beyond a tribal identity must be a relatively new phenomenon. And there’s more where that came from.

Some of the sections are easier reading than others. I found I enjoyed later chapters in the book more because the characters who could be interviewed came to life. The earlier chapters about broken treaties and miscellaneous terrible US government officials were harder to get through. I also found the author somewhat abrasive, especially when writing about his own life and family. Some of that content seemed unnecessary to support his points.

Some miscellaneous complaints: Treuer apparently loves lists, because he relies far too heavily on them. Example from page 38 of the paperback: “One archaeological site in southern Maine dated to 3000 BCE included the remains of deer, moose, seal, walrus, beaver, mink, sea mink, river otter, fisher, bear, swordfish, cod, surgeon, sculpin, mallards, black ducks, loons, eagles, and shellfish.” The fact that the area was plentiful with animals is important to the paragraph; the mallards are not. I was also pretty bored during the first chapter’s geographic tour of pre-contact tribal life. This is probably in part because I was comparing it unfavorably to similar content in 1492. Oh well.

The Heartbeat of Wounded Knee is a good book on an important topic. The approach is novel, the historical information well-researched and the central argument compelling. But it doesn’t hang together well enough to be a great book. I’m glad I read it, I just wish I had enjoyed reading it more.