There There

This book will stay in my heart and mind. The characters are so real that I was tearing up by the end as he tied all of their stories together. I know some have said it started slowly for them, but I was hooked from the beginning and was turning back to check stories to see the clever interconnections. What an impressive debut. He'll be in Durham this week and I'm very much looking forward to hearing him speak about his work.

This is the most powerful book I've read this year (and I've read some weighty stuff). The book weaves together narratives from different Natives in the Oakland area, from all perspectives – different ages, genders, and families – but also different literary perspectives, from the first person to second to third and in every tense imaginable. Orange is trying to get at this from every angle. He's making us look at every surface in every way; it's a true cubist manifesto, putting together these different pieces until the reader can see the full picture. And then see the picture shatter. (My heart is still reeling.)

Forget Hawthorne and Shakespeare and Orwell – this book should be required reading for all high school kids. Because rectifying what we teach elementary school kids about Thanksgiving and the Pilgrims with historical accounts of the Trail of Tears and various massacres in high school textbooks isn't nearly enough. That still allows us to be so distant from the tragedy of this people; textbook images are “a copy of a copy of a photograph” – so far from the real thing. Distant, cold, impersonal. We can understand the tragedy logically and never come close to feeling it. Read this book and you'll feel it.

It's not historical fiction; it's set in the modern day. But at the same time it is a historical fiction, because each of the characters in this story carries the weight of the past, and feel doomed to continue carrying that weight because we refuse to acknowledge those histories, right the wrongs, and refuse to let the Native people fade into an ethnically ambiguous urbanity. Please – start by reading this book.

I love the idea of this book and reading about Native Americans. Their mistreatment was succinctly described and formed the basis for the contemporary story that followed. I found the characters and plot interesting, but there was so much going on for such a short book, I never felt like I got invested in the characters. The writing is good, so this may be your cup of tea. It was only a so-so read for me.

I have had this Advanced Reader Copy of There There for almost a year. I started it soon after I first got it, read a chapter, and put it down; I sensed this would be a powerful book, and I wasn't ready to read it yet. I got it back out this week when I realized that Tommy Orange was coming to Houston, and I read and read almost up to the time Orange walked onstage at Rice University in Houston. Last night I read to the end.

What do I think of this book? I feel the same way I did when I read The Things They Carried: sitting in deep admiration for the beauty of the writing and certain of the truth of the words, but, nevertheless, scarred by the reading. I know There There is full of real people—Dene with his storytelling grant inherited from his dead uncle; Tony left damaged by Fetal Alcohol Syndrome; Jacquie raped during the Native American takeover of Alcatraz; and many more—and their stories are deeply real...there is no denying the reality of these stories. The book is afire with a searing blaze of anger directed out at those deemed to have sent these Native Americans into their circle of hell—suffering from poverty, racism, and alcoholism—and somehow, though I've never known a Native American in my life, my presumed status as a white person (whatever that is) makes me somehow liable for the pain. I feel marked by the suffering, the violence, the neediness, the fury of the characters, yet without a way to address it, relieve it, heal it.

I'm glad to have read this book; I hate that I read this book. This book tells the stories of Native Americans who have been silenced too long, and that is a good thing. I feel the pain of these characters; I am left with the pain.

The many characters exposed the many varieties of modern Native American life of which many of us are unaware. At the same time, it was difficult to keep up with so many people. The writing is good, but I don't think it lives up to the hype.

Ahhhhhhh this book was so good!

It gets one star for just being based in Oakland. I love reading books set where I am, plus I remember going to the powwows in Oakland and up north every year.

But it earned all the rest of the stars just for being fantastic. I fell into this story and it flew by. I loved all the voices. I loved the importance placed on stories. It was tragic, but hopeful. It was everything I needed to read right now.

I'm glad I read this, but it took me a bit to get through it and I think it would have benefited from having fewer POV's.

I very much enjoyed how this book managed to spin several stories at once, all culminating to one event. I think Orange puts a lot of character development into a small amount of pages - some can't achieve a vision of a character with 300 pages by themself. Orange can do so much with so little. I loved reading this and I want all my friends to read it.

“That's what I'm trying to get out of this whole thing. All put together, all our stories. Because all we got right now are reservation stories, and shitty versions from outdated history textbooks.”

In terms of narrative device, structure, pacing, and plot, Tommy Orange does nothing new with his debut There There. In many ways, this novel is the plot-driven, multi-voiced narrative we have come to expect from the lot of best-selling book club selections. It falls into the trend that seemed wholly fun and still original ten years ago, but has since perhaps become cloying. This presentation is still effective and often successful, it's just that it feels too familiar.

So what makes There There one of the best books of 2018? Sure, the story is interesting. The characters are well rounded. The pacing, the setting... All that jazz. What I loved about There There was the way it turned my expectation of Native American literature on its head. Through his characters and his own authorial intrusions, Orange asks some stellar questions about the story of Indigenous people. Can a story be true to Native American traditions and still be modern?

The problem with Indigenous art in general is that it's stuck in the past. The catch, or the double bind, about the whole thing is this: If it isn't pulling from tradition, how is it Indigenous? And if it is stuck in tradition, in the past, how can it be relevant to other Indigenous people living now, how can it be modern?

There There

Stories of urban Indians, all converging towards a big Pow Wow in Oakland. We meet multiple generations of Native Americans, all struggling with questions of identity. Far from reservations, we meet torn-apart families, feelings of regret, a meta story about recording stories. It all results in a big portrait of what it must feel like to exist in this modern-day society, that has run off, killed and mistreated your people for centuries.

The storytelling is great, I just wish he'd maybe split it into fewer characters. And maybe not have it end on such a negative event.

There There is about how connected people are—sometimes without even realizing it—and the extent to which such connections can change lives. It is a layered look at contemporary Native American identity. It is a testament to the continued impact of both settler colonialism and whitewashed revisionist depictions of settler colonialism.

It got confusing at times because I read the book in shorter bursts and struggled to keep all the characters (and especially how they related to one another) straight. But, all in all, I think this was a strong debut.

A friend used the expression “blown away” to describe her reaction. I can't do better than that. Exquisite writing, the kind of sentences that make me want to buy my own print copy so I can underline and dogear and revisit. Heartbreak made more so by its everyday matter-of-factness.

There There, the debut novel by Tommy Orange, follows a large cast of Native Americans who live in Oakland, California. Orange does a masterful job of setting up his narrative with a prologue about the history of Native Americans and the power of who tells those stories, whether by white people or others. Then he unfurls the narrative with each of his characters stories like a patchwork quilt weaved with sadness and regret and remorse. All his characters are troubled and, unfortunately for them and the reader as well, there will be no light at the end of their tunnel. The narrative is a dirge, figuratively and literally. It's a heavy story but one that needed to be told and listened to. I think it's important to hear the stories of all Americans, most importantly the marginalized.

Having a happy ending is not a requirement for me but to invest in these characters then have their lives end in the way it does in this novel is like a sucker punch. It's a cheap shot. But these characters' lives are worth reading about. Hope is a powerful subtext; I just wished for a little more of it.

Orange does a curious thing by mixing first, second, and third person narration. His first-person narration is particularly effective, as his characters' personalities jump off the page. The second-person choice even makes sense in the chapter where it's used. But the third-person choice is a head-scratcher. Why offer some of these marginalized characters the power of narrating their own stories then deny some others by using a mysterious narrator? Why not let them tell their own stories? The only thing the third-person narration did was confuse me. Why aren't they telling their own story? Why does Tony speak for himself but Bill doesn't? It's an odd choice and one I'm surprised his editor didn't question. Maybe Orange was showing off like a juggler adding burning bowling pins to his set of rubber balls.

Overall, a good read with some exceptional writing, although the end left a little to be desired. I would give this novel a 3.75 stars.

A polyphonic story narrated from a dozen perspectives. When I started I thought they were separate short stories as they were so divergent. Orange starts closing the circle as the characters slowly begin to converge on an Oakland pow-wow. And you realize the gun he brings in the first act is bound to go off.

I love the idea of the urban Indian. Orange gets us off the reservation and places his characters in the city. And maybe it's me missing the narrative plentitude of indigenous writing but it felt relevant and strangely present. And it's placed within a larger context, with Orange briefly leaving the narrative in a searing prologue and interlude to drop some knowledge.

I loved how Orange talked about the dancers too, feathers shaking, shoulders dipping, like gravity meant something different to them.

A stunning debut and a much needed win for indigenous writers after all the recent scandals surrounding Boyden and Alexie. Reviewed here: https://youtu.be/ZZvx3rbjLzk

The last part of this book is so good, I had to stop reading after each chapter to process. A remarkable book, and definitely one of the best of 2018.

4.5 stars. Heartbreaking, beautiful prose.