Title & author
The Night Watchman by Louise Erdrich
Synopsis
A central plotline of The Night Watchman, the fight for basic human rights, is made clear not only through the protagonists’ fight for constitutional recognition, but through their fight for women’s equality and safety. Based on the author’s grandfather’s life, the novel is an acute and moving depiction of the marginalization and oppression that the U.S. has caused and overlooked time and time again in Native American history—including at the novel’s time of publication, during the spread of COVID-19.
Who should read this book
Fans of Black Leopard, Red Wolf and Conjure Women
What we’re thinking about
The cyclical imposition of whiteness upon marginalized communities
Trigger warning(s)
Sexual violence, substance abuse, slurs, sexism, racism
“On August 1, 1953, the United States Congress announced House Concurrent Resolution 108, a bill to abrogate nation-to-nation treaties, which had been made with American Indian Natives for ‘as long as the grass grows and the rivers flow.’ The Announcement called for the eventual termination of all tribes, and the immediate termination of five tribes, including the Turtle Mountain Band of Chippewa.”
A central plotline of The Night Watchman (HarperCollins, 2020) becomes apparent immediately through Louise Erdrich’s prologue: the fight for basic human rights. Based on her grandfather’s life, Erdrich’s latest novel is an acute and moving depiction of the marginalization and oppression that the U.S. has caused and overlooked time and time again in Indigenous peoples’ history—including at the novel’s time of publication, during the spread of COVID-19.
Readers are introduced to the two main protagonists, Thomas Wazhashk and Patrice “Pixie” Paranteau, members of the Turtle Mountain Band of Chippewa. Thomas, the night watchman for the local jewel plant, also serves as a council member who is working to combat Resolution 108. Patrice works at the plant, largely supporting her family while she also tries to locate her sister, Vera, who disappeared months back and is a victim of sexual violence. The story largely is split between their narrations, but does slip into the minds of others (a stylistic decision that gets smoother as the tale goes on), including the minds of their friends, family, missionaries, and even animals.
Although Patrice’s desperate search for her sister is central to the jacket flap, that storyline only consumes about the first third of the book. Instead, as Patrice realizes she “is a stranger to [her]self,” the story of her missing sister takes a backseat to Patrice’s own development (Erdrich, 132). Her trip to find Vera propels Patrice to gain security in herself, her needs, and her desires.
However, by pushing Vera’s storyline and Patrice’s search for her to the back, does the novel skim over the incredibly important topic of sexual violence? No. Rather, Erdrich focuses the issue of sexual abuse, particularly the sexualization and animalization of Indigenous women, on the abuser, not the abused. Boys “tried to pile on [Patrice] in the car...Bucky’s face mashed up against hers, his hands on her, everywhere” (72). A stranger calls her “a lovely Indian princess…[a] waterjack” (108, 113). And the local white boxing coach and math instructor dreams of her “barefoot. He found that charming. And so appropriate for a darling Indian girl” (81).
“Bigger ideas were called for'' than men, claims Patrice (314). “Why should anything be impossible?” (314). By focusing on the abuser, Erdirch is able to narrate not only the sexual violence faced by these women, but also their movement forward and their reclaiming of their identities. “It’s not that he shouldn’t have tried,” thinks Bucky, the boy who tried to force himself onto Patrice, “just that he picked the wrong girl” (370). By writing the sexualization from the male gaze, the violent acts become a part of the abuser’s identities. Erdrich dismisses the notion that victims can only be victimized and that abusers are somehow separate from their actions-- ones that are not their problem to face or address.
At the time of the title’s publication, parts of the U.S. government were just starting to recognize COVID-19, the pandemic’s unequal impact on marginalized communities about to become clear. And after only a few months, The Navajo Nation would soon have the highest rates of infection and deaths per capita in the U.S. Erdrich’s novel sheds light on the unequal treatment of Indigenous communities, in particular women. She calls individuals to ask how we, as a country that overlooks their voices and health even during a pandemic, will support these women that face a 2.5 times higher chance of assault than white women (two-thirds of which are committed by white and non-Native men). In a country that has time and time again taken advantage of and stripped away basic rights from those who call it home, how do we ensure that such actions cease?
“’Sometimes I dream I am a man,’ said Millie, which was the sort of statement neither of them could meet with a response.”
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Does the narration style, particularly the alternating POVs, contribute to Patrice and Vera’s story? If so, how?
What role does religion play in the story? Does this influence womanhood and identity?
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