There There Paperback – May 7, 2019

I heard an interview with Tommy Orange and he was so thoughtful and intelligent... he had a deeply human way of talking about things and making connections that welcomed the listener into the conversation.The minute I got home, I bought There There and dove into the world he had captured and the people he created to bring that world to life. It’s a phenomenal book. On top of a riveting story and characters that you invest in deeply, the story itself is so well-constructed, so intimately and carefully layered, that when you get to the end, you know you have just experienced a true work of art.I recently went to a arts conference up at Western Washington University in Bellingham and an elder from the Lummi Nation was speaking about language and placenames. I have always considered myself a local. I was born here. I am invested in this town and in the surrounding land. It means something to me, very dear and very real. But listening to him, it dawned on me (duh) that I am a colonist. Maybe an accidental colonist, but still. When I’ve talked to others about it, I’ve been met with hostility and racism and ignorance. People denigrating and undermining what the Lummi people went through, minimizing their value so as to make it okay that we non-Natives are here and the reservation is small. Finally, I could hear it for myself. The language and reasoning of colonization - the mindset of takers who don’t want to feel bad for taking. We were raised in a community that looks down on the people who actually belong here... which is such a sick and backward and unhealthy way to think and act. It’s been strange to see myself that way, as a colonist. But once I realized that we’re no different than the Boers of South Africa or the non-natives of New Zealand and Australia and Hawaii and Fiji and... I mean... this is a bloody and unhealthy legacy.And then this book comes at that issue from the other side. I needed to hear this. I needed to read this. And I think we need to reorganize how we teach history and culture. Not once did I learn anything about the Lummi Nation in school. Not once did a teacher explain to me that Whatcom - the name of our lake and creek - meant “the sound of water going over stones.” I would’ve liked to have known those things. I think it would’ve connected me in a deeper way to the place where I live, but also it would’ve given every single kid in that classroom the message that the people who were here first are important, are still here, and are a key part of our history. Instead, we learned about the colonists. The loggers and mill owners. The early settlers. And the message was clear, even by third grade: We were the winners. They were the losers. And that’s a messed up message to send. But you can hear it in the way people talk in my town. They don’t see the Lummi Nation as survivors, as people who maintained their culture and their language and who thrived against all odds. They don’t see themselves as the beneficiaries of their colonist ancestors. They live in a fantasy. And, from what I can tell, when you’re living in a fantasy, you can’t accurately solve things in the real world.I think this book will help wake people up. Natives and non-Natives alike. It’s also a fantastic book and stands on its own merit as an amazing piece of writing.

There There is a literary fiction novel written by an Indigenous author. Tommy Orange is a citizen of the Cheyenne and Arapaho Tribes of Oklahoma. This book is set in Oakland, California, where the author grew up. As many Indigenous people, Orange grew up off-reservation.At the prologue, the author lays the foundation to the historical violence and massacre of the Indigenous people - I think the prologue was the best part of this book. In this story we follow twelve different perspectives told by twelve different characters. It discusses the struggles of modern Indians in contemporary society. The reader doesn’t realize at the beginning of the book but the lives of these characters are intertwined by an event that will happen at the end of the story.The author points out the loss of Native American culture to colonialism and also writes about a variety of themes such as family, death, poverty, ceremony, tradition, addiction, abuse, suicide, and memory. This novel is powerful, insightful, and I believe any book that is able to educate its readers is a book worth reading.

Y’all. This book. It packs a punch like no other, and I was captivated by it as the stories began to intertwine and come to a head, to one final moment that brings the characters all together in this gripping tale transcending multiple generations. Gripping is an understatement… when all was said and done, and the novel stopped, I felt myself continue to lurch forward with momentum. I don’t think I can express how deep and beautiful this novel is. I can’t do it justice. But let me back up.Tommy Orange’s novel is difficult to start. When I first began listening via audiobook, I thought I was going to hate it. It didn’t make sense to me. The prologue, which is part of the novel and should be read, begins with a candid retelling of history as North Americans know it–laying bare what the history books don’t teach us, shedding light on the part of history that we’d like to forget and sweep under a rug, never to be seen again. I thought to myself, “is this novel a history lesson?”. No. But yes. Though fictitious, it has many truths, and the experiences of many of these characters are unfortunately all too real. Because those affected by our nation’s bloody history in the past are still affected by it in our present, which Orange makes explicitly clear as his novel commences with the first story from our twelve narrators, Tony Loneman. Truth be told, the first story, Tony’s story, was not how I’d start this novel. I found it a bit dry, and I wasn’t sure where Orange was going with the novel. Then the second narrator took over, and I didn’t see any obvious connections, and I was wondering, “is this novel just a grouping of short stories?”. The stories were just there, and they didn’t entice me. They were just unhitched stories. But as I continued, I began to see the connections methodically woven between the characters, all of which is leading us, the narrators and the reader, to one final moment at the powwow; all of these twelve characters are perfectly interconnected, though they don’t know it as of yet. And as they continue their stories, adding to what we already know, and beginning to converge on Oakland’s Coliseum, the novel takes hold, creating feelings of intense foreboding through Orange’s employ of dramatic irony. The interlude, from which I quoted a particularly stunning section above, floored me, and it was then that I knew, without a doubt, that this novel is a five star read. Orange is matter-of-fact, and he’s hitting on topics that we, as a nation, have fought about for far too long, still attempting to sweep truth under the rug in order to not face the reality of our current world, or who we are, and our sordid history. And while the interlude above is just that, and the narrators barely touch upon what is explicitly stated above–it’s not a novel steeped in politics or in your face–it’s there, calling to the reader, reminding us that privilege exists, that some are luckier than others, and that if we are to survive this harrowing world, we must come together, to understand one another, and to stop the fighting. This novel is fierce.When There There ended, I was speechless. One, I couldn’t believe Orange left us the way he did, but two, it’s just so unspeakably beautiful, thought-provoking, and intense. Five amazing stars!I borrowed the audible of this novel from the library, but then purchased my own paperback copy from Amazon, because this powerful novel is a must for my shelves.