I was blown away by this debut novel and the skill of its writer. It covered multiple perspectives, times, and locations, giving layered and deep insights into the Chinese invasion and annexation of Tibet, and its effects on Tibetans forced to become refugees, first in Nepal then in Canada.
A small clay statue, or ku, plays a central role endowed with profound meaning about cultural belonging, ownership, and appropriation. Through the varied interpretations of its form and facial expressions, it is both a character itself and a symbol of what other characters experience. I found this to be a beautifully written, well-constructed, powerful, and moving tale of displacement, emphasizing the essential nature of homeland, how place shapes and defines us all, with much resonance in American Indigeneity.
For readers of Homegoing and The Leavers, a compelling and profound debut novel about a Tibetan family's journey through exile.
International Bestseller Longlisted for the Center for Fiction First Novel Prize Shortlisted for the Scotiabank Giller Prize
In the wake of China's invasion of Tibet throughout the 1950s, Lhamo and her younger sister, Tenkyi, arrive at a refugee camp in Nepal. They survived the dangerous journey across the Himalayas, but their parents did not. As Lhamo-haunted by the loss of her homeland and her mother, a village oracle-tries to rebuild a life amid a shattered community, hope arrives in the…
What could have been if this worldview, this ideology, this collective subconscious, this pantheistic Indigenous mythology, had been listened to, if it had been respected?
This is a question I have asked myself many times. Thompson Highway looks at a rarely discussed (by settlers) aspect of Indigenous cultures: the humour. He argues it’s embedded in the languages, which he says are inherently hilarious.
I feel the answer to his question is, in part, that humans would have a better chance of surviving. And as Highway indicates, living joyfully, laughing till we fart, laughing till we die. This is a brilliantly insightful book.
Brilliant, jubilant insights into the glory and anguish of life from one of the world's most treasured Indigenous creators.
Trickster is zany, ridiculous. The ultimate, over-the-top, madcap fool. Here to remind us that the reason for existence is to have a blast and to laugh ourselves silly.
Celebrated author and playwright Tomson Highway brings his signature irreverence to an exploration of five themes central to the human condition: language, creation, sex and gender, humour, and death. A comparative analysis of Christian, classical, and Cree mythologies reveals their contributions to Western thought, life, and culture-and how North American Indigenous mythologies provide…
This is one of the best accounts of addiction I’ve ever read, mainly because it was easy to connect with the author, to understand the loneliness he must have felt even when he wasn’t explicit about it. I got a great sense of his humility, his gratitude for life and survival, and his unwillingness to blame his mistakes on others, even when he was traumatized.
This was a painful memoir of deep trauma, cultural and personal, and during much of the time I spent reading it my heart broke for Jesse Thistle, who I felt needed the hardest thing for an addict to find: unconditional love. Through learning his story, I came to better appreciate a lot of the difficulties people I’ve known and loved have experienced.
This #1 internationally bestselling and award-winning memoir about overcoming trauma, prejudice, and addiction by a Métis-Cree author as he struggles to find a way back to himself and his Indigenous culture is “an illuminating, inside account of homelessness, a study of survival and freedom” (Amanda Lindhout, bestselling coauthor of A House in the Sky).
Abandoned by his parents as a toddler, Jesse Thistle and his two brothers were cut off from all they knew when they were placed in the foster care system. Eventually placed with their paternal grandparents, the children often clashed with their tough-love attitude. Worse, the ghost…
In May, 2001, Chris Benjamin hitchhiked across Canada and volunteered on organic farms in British Columbia. He was in search of a good home, love, and community, and perhaps a source of income to pay off his student loans.In Northern Ontario, Benjamin writes, “Big Al was my first encounter with what turned out to be a hitchhiking trope, the kind and generous – to his own kind at least – racist.”
The trope got worse after September 11, which happened as Benjamin was leaving Prince Rupert, BC, hitching south toward the USA. This memoir is based on the detailed journals he kept at that time, hitching and Greyhounding his way across Canada and the USA, and winding up in the Louisiana State Penitentiary.
