The Sentence
The recent novel by US-American writer Louise Erdrich centres on an Ojibwe woman called Tookie, grappling with her own past in the midst of the pandemic, protests and upheaval in Minneapolis. It opens with the recounting of a felony committed by Tookie – the first person narrator – who is then sentenced to ten years in prison during her thirties. Throughout this time, she learns to read with an intensity, that bordered on insanity. Back on the outside, she lives a ‘normal life’ as a happily married bookstore owner, which, in light of her previous history, seems heavenly to her, almost surreal. In November 2019, all of this finally starts to fall apart when her most annoying and most regular client unexpectedly passes away, and after her death, her spirit literally continues to haunt the bookstore. Flora leaves behind a mysterious book – the last one she had read before her death – which was written in the 19th century by an imprisoned Indigenous person and which offers up some answers for Tookie.
The light-hearted, humourous narrative style is accompanied by a thorough and deeply-considered use of words that is notable right from Tookie’s first prison read – the American Heritage Dictionary of the English Language.Through the help of books, the tough yet sensitive and skeptical woman is sometimes able to process and put into words things that she would often only vaguely able to sense. This tension pervades throughout the novel, and is created and dissolved at points through dictionary entries, a randomly discovered poem or what is left behind by Flora. This is one of the book’s strengths, as are the complex characters.
Tookie’s questions about her past, which initially only sporadicly appear at a superficial level and are quickly pushed to the side, as well as her biographical entanglements as a convicted Ojibwe person are skilfully woven together, leading to her involvement in the protest movement against police violence and racism that was triggered by George Floyd’s murder in May 2020. In addition to the presence of Flora’s ghost, it is these events that uncover pain and guilt and create a sense of urgency to confront that which had been pushed to the side. This goes hand in hand with an ambivalence towards those closest to Tookie, and threatens to put some of her relationships in jeopardy.
The novel deftly draws on recent events and places them smoothly into historical context, and does the same with Tookie’s personal history. It provides insight into traditions, living conditions and protest movements within Indigenous communities and their relations with other marginalised groups like both Black folks and white folks alike – this is clearly articulated in Flora’s insidious fetishisation of Indigenous folks, one of the central issues in her relationship with Tookie. The contemporary context of the book can be seen in the increasing interest in Black and Indigenous anti-racist, intersectional perspectives, which for Tookie and her colleagues in the bookstore provides an entry point to the subject area. Included in this is the “Totally Biased List of Tookie’s Favourite Books”, a precious treasure and which includes “Themed Sublists” such as a “Ghost-Managing Book List”, “Indigenous Lives” and “Indigenous Poetry” – in which, by the way, it is apparent that only a fraction of the latter have been translated into German.The Sentence is characterised by avoidance, anger and grief in search of one’s roots, and yet despite everything it radiates warmth and a sense of community. Readers can feel the history of the divided country not only through Tookie’s biography, but also through her lovingly selected “therapeutic” book recommendations. The openness to ambiguity accompanies the multidimensional, complex, intertextual confrontation with history/histories, books and language that have the potential to be punishing, but can also appease and partially reconcile