‘Then the substance of seasons gone, the generations of rot: decayed totems, grandfather’s bones, spilled juices flavor and nurture and enliven, together with the rain. The deeper the darker the richer the more and more silent, more and more real / truth / is. In its essence, the light and the sky, the soft, clear drops of sweet heavenly nectar of the clouds: rain. Dripping from the berry bushes, the light of the whole day captured and intense in the corner of the sparkle of the drop just now falling from the sky, just now erupting onto the forest floor, nurturing, flavoring, bringing with it the whisper of what binds us.’ - Blonde Indian, Ernestine Hayes.

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A lengthy quote but I was struggling to put into words how beautifully Tlingit author Ernestine Hayes, member of the Kaagwaantaan clan, writes about the natural world. Blonde Indian is a blend of memoir, Tlingit legend, history and symbolic storytelling highlighting some of the struggles Indigenous folks face, including alcoholism, unemployment and racism. Although Hayes jumps around the different strands, the book as a whole feels succinct and cohesive, rich and intertwined.

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I don’t like saying I ‘enjoyed’ something when the content is sad or dealing with something like trauma, especially when it’s non-fiction too, but appreciated is a good word. I’m glad Hayes picked up her pen to write this book and put it out into the world. She keenly points out so many issues in the contemporary world, like the erasure of BIPOC in educational materials; the way oral histories are dismissed until scientific evidence proves that actually, they were right all along; how sensitive so many white people are to being called ‘white people’.

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For only 175 pages, there’s so much to unpack, and a great pick from @erinanddanisbookclub - thank you both!