louise erdrich

Poetry Project #4, Louise Erdrich

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Louise Erdrich (b. 1954) is an Ojibwa writer who writes poetry, novels, children's books, and more. "Jacklight" shares its name with her first critically-acclaimed collection of poetry, published in 1984.

Jacklight

The same Chippewa word is used both for flirting and hunting game, while another Chippewa word connotes both using force in intercourse and also killing a bear with one’s hands.

-R.W. Dunning, Social and Economic Change Among the Northern Ojibwa (1959)

We have come to the edge of the words, out of brown grass where we slept, unseen, out of knotted twigs, out of leaves creaked shut, out of hiding.

At first the light wavered, glancing over us. Then it clenched to a fist of light that pointed, searched out, divided us. Each took the beams like direct blows the heart answers. Each of us moved forward alone.

We have come to the edge of the woods, drawn out of ourselves by this night sun, this battery of polarized acids, that outshines the moon.

We smell them behind it but they are faceless, invisible. We smell the raw steel of their gun barrels, mink oil on leather, their tongues of sour barley. We smell their mothers buried chin-deep in wet dirt. We smell their fathers with scoured knuckles, teeth cracked from hot marrow. We smell their sisters of crushed dogwood, bruised apples, of fractured cups and concussions of burnt hooks.

We smell their breath steaming lightly behind the jacklight. We smell the itch underneath the caked guts on their clothes. We smell their minds like silver hammers cocked back, held in readiness for the first of us to step into the open.

We have come to the edge of the woods, out of brown grass where we slept, unseen, out of leaves creaked shut, out of our hiding. We have come here too long.

It is their turn now, their turn to follow us. Listen, they put down their equipment. It is useless in the tall brush. And now they take the first steps, not knowing how deep the woods are and lightless. How deep the woods are.

Paris Review - The Art of Fiction No. 208, Louise Erdrich

Great interview with Louise Erdrich from The Paris Review:

There’s something very wrong in our country—and not just in the book business. We now see what barely fettered capitalism looks like. We are killing the small and the intimate. We all feel it and we don’t know quite why everything is beginning to look the same. The central cores of large cities can still sustain interesting places. But all across our country we are intent on developing chain after chain with no character and employees who work for barely livable wages. We are losing our individuality. Killing the soul of our landscape. Yet we’re supposed to be the most individualistic of countries. I feel the sadness of it every time I go through cities like Fargo and Minneapolis and walk the wonderful old Main Streets and then go out to the edges and wander through acres of concrete boxes. Our country is starting to look like Legoland.