LaRose

Erdrich is wonderful, but this one doesn't do a lot for me. The premise–a man gives his son to the couple whose son he accidentally killed–is definitely compelling, and there are fine moments throughout, but mostly it's a disappointment: slow, lacking suspense (until the “climax”), an Iago-like character who is too unbelievable, some big issues (like the war in Iraq) that are raised and then dropped, etc.

This multi-generational family saga of interwoven stories, perspectives and characters has a lot to get your teeth into. Tricky family dynamics, hopelessness and grief, justice and revenge, Native American history and culture. What was done well was fantastic, but too often I found myself feeling oddly detached while reading this and struggled to engage emotionally during certain parts of the novel and with some of the characters. On the other hand, during other parts, I was enthralled. I loved Erdrich's way of going back and forth in time, finding links between the generations and their ancestors. Some of the characters and their storylines captivated me, such as Maggie's which was completely heartwrenching, while other's either bored me or left me feeling slightly disappointed at their lack of development (LaRose the fifth (?) and his mother Emmaline, who were just a bit too perfect by the end in my opinion). I also had mixed feelings about Erdrich's prose, which at times was beautiful, but could also drift aimlessly, and I was also slightly irritated by the lack of quotation marks. Sometimes this can work well, but here too often I found the dialogue blurring with the prose, which is never a good thing. Ultimately, I think there were too many odd diversions, slightly unnecessary subplots and perhaps simply just too many characters for me to get the most out of this novel.