Review by Booklist Review
Mesquakie poet Ray Young Bear is a modern shaman; presences, like the snake and the northern pike, speak to him but they speak in a world of styrofoam snow and spaghetti, of "Caucasians who dress / and act like Indians: three middle- / aged men sit on a car hood and drink / their whiskey in public." He is able, confronting death, to say that "the whole thing / reminds me of an Alfred Hitchcock movie," and then move on to "taste the wind." This is, in other words, an authentic voice, no imitation of what once was but a witness to what is. In the decade since Winter of the Salamander, Young Bear's last book, his voice has grown mightily. --Pat Monaghan
From Booklist, Copyright (c) American Library Association. Used with permission.
Review by Library Journal Review
``Each variation has a meaning'' writes Young Bear in his first book-length collection of verse since Winter of the Salamander ( LJ 9/15/80). In these new poems, variations are woven with myth and symbol, dream and ceremony, as well as with the mundane, the everyday struggle to survive. ``Perplexity should be expected,'' we are warned, and these images are often dense, difficult, and perhaps perplexing in their portrayal of a life alien to most readers: that of contemporary Native Americans. With repeated readings, Young Bear's words become richer and increasingly accessible, and he succeeds admirably in sharing both the sacred and the profane of his life. Hard winters and sequined dancers contrast with TV dinners, Hitchcock, and strawberry sundaes at the Tastee Freeze--but always with hope and humor, with the desire to look beyond violence and despair. Highly recommended.-- Richard Churchill, Univ. of Baltimore (c) Copyright 2010. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
(c) Copyright Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
