Nine native American wannabees gathered in the twilight outside the parkside hogan to drink a bottle of 2016 De Ponte Pinot Noir in order to connect to Abel and his buddies, although this bottle was more than $3.00. They sang the old songs and spoke of poetry, fiction, and the intersection of the two found in the Kiowa chants and stories.
Dick J: B
Mike: Cheap joke: Abel was unable - however, Abel was not disabled. As Benally relates, he was unlucky. Later Benally admits
the truth - it was too late for Abel. And there was no ketoh.
Bob Woods said the writing reminded him of Hemingway and I see that with Book 3, especially with that narration embedded in italics: told by
Abel about Life with Grandfather. Beautiful memoir, realizing he knew Abel wanted to go to the trading post.
There was a
girl at Cornfields one summer. This third section was beautifully done. B.
Tom: The book picked up for me in Part 3. I thought the plan of going to the mesa "for the last time:" was a plan for suicide. B-
Karl: When I saw the September selection on the LTBC list, I was very much looking forward to reading the
book. I was quickly disappointed, though that may, in part, be due to such high expectations.
The first section is what happens when a poet tries to write prose. It’s awful. The descriptive phrases,
similes, and metaphors trample the narrative rather than enhance it or give it color or depth or emotion.
It does lend some credence to my theory that any book that attempts to maximize the average sum of
the number of adjectives, adverbs, similes, and metaphors per page – regardless of how inane or absurd
– can become a candidate for the Pulitzer. I wanted to quit reading the book several different times
during its first 76 pages.
The second, two-date section was better, though I’m puzzled by its first chapter. The second one
seemed almost autobiographical of the author. I wondered about that.
The third and fourth sections, I thought, were much better written than the first. I was quite engaged
most of the time reading them. I found the jumping around of narrator and time period somewhat
confusing in places, though the Italics helped a bit. I don’t understand the ending at all.
For such a dark book, where it’s quite likely that the most frequently-used adjective is “black,” the title
seems somewhat incongruous. I accept that it’s quite possible that I missed the entire point of the
book. C+
Bob S: Momaday’s beautiful description of the land around Jemez Pueblo resonated with my experiences of driving through the
Pueblo and the Jemez River Valley and eating tamales within the embracing walls of red rock canyon. This was real to me just
as is my memory of standing at the edge of the Middle watching the lines of clans slowly dance across the Middle in front
of the large kiva on a feast day in their traditional regalia. That immediate physical connection to the land and culture
that exists at Abel’s psychic core was real to me as Momaday described it.
Momaday’s description of the Indian peyote ceremony resonated with my experiences of taking psychedelics in the late
60’s; the visions and loving connections with those you are tripping with were real to me. I wonder if he was tripping in
the late 60’s when I was; yet another connection.
Reverend Tomasah’s poetic cadence about the teachings of John and the “Word” connected me to my memories and
feelings I hold for Allen Ginsberg and Jack Kerouac’s poetics, those beat hipsters of the early 50’s in “Howl” and On the
Road.
I dug the whole thing, except for the ancient religious chronicles.
I will thank Keith eternally for choosing this book. A
Charlie: C
Bob W: B. At times read like Hemingway.
Rob E: I was very drawn in right from the Prologue. Growing up in Oklahoma, I had friends who took me into the reservation - I enjoyed the chants, the drums. Much of this is in the Jemez. C
Keith: Most of my comments have been laid out. An apt description is the inability to integrate into the white man's civilization; to leave the reservation, get stabilized, and then go back. A-
... and from far off the reservation:
Kaixo from Navarre, Spain. We are walking in the Basque Pyrenees, enjoying the landscape
and the people, whose traditions are tied to their bloodline and the land in much the same
way as the native people Momaday depicts in his writing. Sorry I won't be able to join in the
discussion on Thursday. I would love to have shared my experience here and talk about how
it compares with what I have experienced with the Jemez people.
I found House Made of Dawn very powerful. I had the feeling that Abel's story was going to
be a tragic one from the very beginning and in a sense it was, but his return to New Mexico
and his rebirth at the end was a breath-catching relief for me. He was alone and running at
the beginning and although he remained alone throughout the telling of his story, it was
only at the end that he could run and "see" again.
Momaday's ability to use words to paint a landscape and create a mood is remarkable. I am
convinced that even if I were not familiar with the area in and around the Jemez Mountains,
I could still clearly visualize the landscape Momaday describes. I have never read any of his
poetry, but I can imagine how he could elicit strong emotions in his poems. He is a master
of the language. I would highly recommend this book to anyone, who enjoys experiencing
the power of words and to anyone who wants to gain a better understanding of native
people. A
Regards,
Jack
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