I don't really want to tell you how long ago I got this book as an ARC from NetGalley. It's embarrassing. I also don't want to tell you that the only reason I finally picked it up was because I saw it at one of my local library's "Friends" book sales and it jogged it back to the top of my memory. But...here we are and honesty has won out, so now you know. But I'm going to go with a "better late than never" vibe on this, because really, that's all I've got left going for me. 

 

Book of the Little Axe is told in two primary times/settings. The novel opens in 1830 with Victor, son of a Trinidadian woman and a Crow chief, in Bighorn, Montana. Victor is coming of age and trying to figure out his place in the world as a mixed race son, split between two cultures. As he is set to go through his transition into adulthood, he is stymied by the secrets of this past that his mother has kept from him. The second begins in 1796 in Trinidad, and we are introduced to Rosa Rendón (Victor's mother) as a young child, and her years growing up with her family in Trinidad, where she refused to conform to the natural path of womanhood (cooking and keeping house), preferring instead to work the land and raise/care for the horses. Both time periods are threaded through with the violence against women (and Black women in particular) inherent in the Western hemisphere. And these stories are given additional framework by a third voice, that of Creadon Rampley, a trapper and guide, whose travels across the Western states and Trinidad brings him into both Rosa and Victor's lives. 

 

Well, this was sweeping. The writing is superb, and the atmosphere and sense of place are just stunning. The open and wild spaces of the "big sky country," and the land and voices of Trinidad, just came alive. The narration of all three perspectives were also so individual and brought such a strong, distinct presence to the page, fully fleshed out on their own and in conjunction with each other. There is a simmering intensity to the story that you mostly miss while reading, (because, if I'm being really honest, it felt like quite a slow read that I felt sort of un-invested in, in the moment, until I reached the final third...and I don't know if I would have gotten to that point without the audiobook to more me forwards). But, after finishing, I realized how heavy it was sitting with me; how weighed down I became throughout these characters' journeys and how much they did, in fact, affect me. 

 

I found the settings to be really fascinating, both alone and in combination. This is a time period that I have not read a lot of historical fiction set within (in all fairness, I only intermittently read historical fiction, so there's that), and so I absolutely had never considered the way these places/peoples might overlap and interact. I learned a lot about the transition of imperial powers in Trinidad (from Spanish to English colonizers) and the way that affected the lives of people living there, especially Black people. But even in the West/Midwest, which I do have a bit more knowledge of (if only whatever limited POVs were covered in school in history classes), this book did an absolutely fabulous job highlighting the confluence of identities that are separately suppressed, and all but unknown combined. There was an intermingling of historical Black and Native and mixed voices, a critical and educational addition to historical fiction narratives. And these were given even greater context with the inclusion of Rampley's perspective, as he learns (with the reader alongside him), that even with how much was stacked against him (and the violence he too experienced), he was still in a place of greater privilege that Rosa. 

 

That's a thing that really stuck out to me throughout this read, actually, the pervasiveness of the casual violence across this historical fiction. It was intense and horrifying when you consider it, but was woven so smoothly in as each character took it more or less "in stride." It really makes one consider how the violence in our present day is considered and taken in that same stride, and how readers will see it when it too becomes historical fiction. Ooof. Other themes that held throughout were an interrogation of "who are your people and where is your home" and if can you belong to more than one people/community fully, or if being split between automatically makes you less of each. There was also a strong look at what makes a family, blood or those who have your best interests at heart, if they are not one and the same. Francis-Sharma also explores the harsh truths of what a person must do to survive (including what they’ll willingly overlook or misunderstand), and what kind of people can afford to have greater principles in the face of hardship/struggle/survival. 

 

While the blurb makes it seem like this novel is all about Rosa, And I suppose it does follow her and/or the people most closely related to her, I found this to be more of a full cast sort of reading experience. And I liked that, honestly, because it provided a much wider context in which I could experience this new period and time of history. I feel like I got a fuller sense of culture and tradition and reality with the wider range of narrative perspectives. Although this was a slower read, so I would caution prospective readers to be aware of that, it was rich and deeply imagined. The way Rosa's life unfolded, along with those around her, provided a lot of background, and awareness of lesser known aspects of, the breadth African diaspora...and the way that interacted with indigenous (and similarly displaced/colonized) peoples as well. A fascinating and educational read that, while I may not have been ready for (pacing/attention-wise), I nevertheless, objectively, truly appreciated.      

 

“She told him that choosing to live is not the same as being scared to die.” 

 

“It is not fair, but this is the way it is, until it is not.” 

 

“Another era would have made no difference, for it seemed no mother in the span of humanity could accept responsibility for inflicting harm on her child when she believed her intent was honorable.” 

 

“Seems your own homeland always feels better in your heart, even if the beauty is bout the same as where you standin.” 

 

"'Spoiled' is what men called girls whose disobediences they secretly enjoyed. [...] 'Behave' is what men said to girls whose 'spoiled' begins to embarrass them." 

 

“That was how it always happens. Thinkin men is men when sometimes its just evil lookin like a man.” 

 

"I aint never birth my own dream. I dont know if anybody every had a dream of his own. I think we go about livin life lookin forward aith other people's eyes. Like maybe shared dreams is what makes us human." 

 

“Victor felt they had nothing between them but words. But perhaps that's all there ever was between people - good words, hurtful words, silent words.”