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November Bibliolust

Given my recent bookstore swing in Eastern Massachusetts, I actually think the lust list for this month is fairly reasonable. After all, it’s difficult to wander through so many bookstores without generating an immense amount of booklust. Making it even better, three of the four books are available from the library.

Man in the Woods, Scott Spencer — This novel drew my attention because its subject centers on how a person who does wrong in the pursuit of good deals with the conflict psychologically. Although not overwhelmingly received, the fact it was available through the library helped put it on the list.

On the Rez, Ian Frazier — For some reason I had not heard of this now 10-year-old book about life on the Pine Ridge Reservation. I came across it in a review of another Frazier book on this list and now have it on my reserve list at the library.

Travels in Siberia, Ian Frazier — The Russo-phile in me was immediately attracted to this book as it was displayed on a new release table. Although it has received mixed reviews, I note I am fairly far down the list of those who’ve placed in on reserve at the library.

The Woman in the Dunes, Kobo Abe — A very favorable review on a world lit book blog brought this novel to the list. I also feel I’ve been a little lax in my world lit reading this year,

Report Card:

Year-to-date (January-October)

Total Bibliolust books: 55

Number read: 38 (69%)

Started but did not finish: 4 (7.3%)

Cumulative (September 2008-October 2010)

Total Bibliolust books: 141

Number read: 99 (70%)

Started but did not finish: 8 (5.2%)

My regimen is lust and avarice for exercise, gluttony and sloth for relaxation.

Mason Cooley, City Aphorisms, Twelfth Selection

Book Review: Sitting Bull, Prisoner of War by Dennis C. Pope

Whether cast in terms of manifest destiny or, more crudely, “the Indian problem,” at its core the conflict between white and Native Americans was a clash of cultures. While not necessarily the centerpiece, Dakota Territory was frequently a stage upon which it played out. Despite the fact it focuses on a narrow slice of the life of Lakota war chief Sitting Bull, Dennis C. Pope’s Sitting Bull, Prisoner of War is infused with one of the fundamental differences between the Plains Indians and white society.

Pope’s book looks at the period when Sitting Bull was essentially a prisoner of war. Sitting Bull was one of the Lakota Sioux’s leading warriors and war chiefs after the discovery of gold in the Black Hills led to continued violations of the Fort Laramie Treaty of 1868, which had guaranteed the Black Hills and much of western South Dakota and eastern Montana and Wyoming to the Sioux in perpetuity. His resistance to abandoning traditional plains life led other groups to band with him and his vision of soldiers falling from the sky helped inspire the defeat of Custer’s Seventh Calvary in the Battle of the Little Bighorn. Within a year, Sitting Bull led his band to Canada to escape the U.S. military. By 1881, though, things had become so dire for the band that Sitting Bull surrendered.

Sitting Bull, Prisoner of War focuses on the roughly two years that followed that surrender. Although initially transferred to Fort Yates near the Standing Rock Agency in what is now south central North Dakota where many of his band’s friends and relatives were located, the government feared he might lead another uprising. As a result, he and his band were taken by steamer down the Missouri River to Fort Thompson in what is now southeastern South Dakota. Isolated from family and friends, Sitting Bull and his people were, for all intents and purposes, prisoners.

Pope uses a quite readable narrative history approach to this period, something not always easy when dealing with a topic that is not only more than 100 years old but one in which the central figure’s ideas and thoughts are communicated through others. In limiting the book to the period from Sitting Bull’s surrender on July 19, 1881, until he and his band were allowed to rejoin the rest of his tribe at Standing Rock in May 1883, Pope brings a unique period in the warrior’s life into sharp focus. Moreover, this focus reveals that although survival required the Lakota to adapt, Sitting Bull’s core beliefs never changed.

Throughout his life, Sitting Bull believed no one could sell Indian land. As far as he was concerned, “treaty Indians” had exceeded their authority and their acts did not bind him. He surrendered only in order to save his band. When he did so, he offered to be placed on a reservation on the Little Missouri but wanted the right to cross back and forth into Canada whenever he wished. “This is my country, and I don’t wish to be compelled to give it up,” he said in surrendering. Instead, he was sent to Fort Randall, where he was more under the supervision of the War Department than the Interior Department, which was normally in charge of Indian affairs.

Despite his status, Sitting Bull possessed a type of celebrity status. From surrender to Fort Randall, social events were held at which prominent citizens and military personnel and their families could meet Sitting Bull. Even though he did not agree with the white man’s ways, he understood the tools of attempting to survive in it. As a result, he would often charge for autographs or photographs. While attempting to “endure the peace” he also sought out a balance for others of his tribe to make sure they survived while he sought to maintain traditional values. For example, even though he let one of his children be among a handful taken to a boarding school away from Fort Randall, he told anyone who asked or listened that the land belonged to the Sioux and that he and his people were suffering an injustice.

Pope relies on newspaper and other contemporary accounts and government documents to show how Sitting Bull personally refused to concede tradition even if he and his people had lost control of their fate. Sitting Bull’s views were such that he personally questioned what good, if any, white society offered. He told one newspaper correspondent:

The life of white men is slavery. They are prisoners in towns or farms. The life my people want is a life of freedom. I have seen nothing that a white man has, houses or railways or clothing or food, that is as good as the right to move in open country, and live in our own fashion.

Reality, though, meant his people had to give up that freedom. But even when Sitting Bull agreed to “[b]e a white man and go to farming” at Standing Rock, he told newspaper reporters that the Sioux owned the land and he could go where he pleased. By then in his early fifties, Sitting Bull was simply stating the principle that guided his entire life. The fact his people may have lost the clash of cultures did not mean that he had to abandon his basic beliefs, something Sitting Bull, Prisoner of War shows he did not do even when within the control and custody of the U.S. government.


The white man had many things that we wanted, but we could see that they did not have the one thing we like best, — freedom.

Sitting Bull, quoted in Dennis C. Pope, Sitting Bull, Prisoner of War

Weekend Edition: 10-30

Bulletin Board

  • Another abbreviated edition as return travel and trying to catch up after being gone led to a couple days of a just too full RSS reader.
  • Thursday is Library Snapshot Day. My local library is asking users to help record “a day in the life” of the main library and its branches.

Bookish Linkage

Nonbookish Linkage


Politics is the entertainment branch of industry.

Frank Zappa, The Real Frank Zappa Book

Friday Follies 2.35

I don’t know that calling something “the greatest legal document ever filed in Irving (Tex.) Municipal Court” is the greatest praise, by a Texas lawyer’s motion for continuance does have a certain flair. (via)

ATL also notes there’s a lawyer who quit his job to return to Texas for the World Series, fairly pointing out: “I don’t think I’m going out on a limb to say that if you have a job that you would happily quit to watch your team in the World Series, you’ve made bad life decisions.”

Meanwhile, in the realm of amateur sports in Texas (to the extent any football is amateur in the state), a pee-wee football club has sued the league it is in for barring a a junior varsity team and requiring it to forfeit games because a parent changed his son’s report card.

A New York judge has ruled that a four-year-old child can be sued for running into an 87-year-old woman while riding her bike, with training wheels, on a Manhattan sidewalk.

Just so you know, free speech rights do not protect a mistress from screaming at her lover’s wife, at least according to the North Dakota Supreme Court.

A former McDonald’s manager in Brazil was awarded $17,500 in a lawsuit against the company in which he claimed the company was the cause of the 65 pounds he gained during his 12 years on the job.

Baltimore, meanwhile, “appears undisturbed that if trans fats are outlawed, only outlaws will have trans fats.”

I don’t think it takes experience as an appellate lawyer to speculate that you worsen the chances of your petition for rehearing being granted when you use the phrase “slime ball, piece of shit, ass clown judges.” (via)

Because of “a ton of complaints from frightened single mothers and senior citizens,” the town of Belleville, Ill., has an ordinance on the books banning anyone over age 12 from trick-or-treating. (via)

In other holiday news, students at Suffolk University Law School have issued a guide to suing Santa Claus.


Don’t try to strike everybody out. Strikeouts are boring! Besides that, they’re fascist.

Crash Davis (Kevin Costner), Bull Durham

Translated lit good, Amazon evil?

As I noted last weekend, Amazon is now helping fund the Best Translated Book Awards. That, however, has led to a bit of a tempest involving a couple of my favorite organizations.

Melville House announced this week that it is going to withdraw from any future involvement with the awards. Dennis Johnson says it is because of Amazon’s “predatory and thuggish practices.” He contends that “Amazon’s interests, and those of a healthy book culture, whether electronic or not, are antithetical.” As a result, he says the publishing house’s announcement is intended to “offer a much more genuine support to translation in America than taking part in a ruse leading to its further denigration.”

This is sad because Melville House publishes 20 or more translated books a year, more than many large publishing houses. Those books include not only Every Man Dies Alone, my favorite novel last year, but The Confessions of Noa Weber, which won the 2010 Best Translated Book Award for fiction.

On the other side is Three Percent, the University of Rochester site/blog for international literature that originated the awards. The University of Rochester also has Open Letter Books (of which I’m a charter subscriber), which publishes translated works. Chad Post, who started the awards “one morning when [he] was drunk on coffee and ambition,” points out that the structure of the awards are such that Melville House can’t withdraw its books from consideration unless it stops publishing literature in translation. Plainly hurt by Johnson’s announcement, Post calls it a “diatribe” and an effort to “undermine the awards in an attempt to make a political point.” At the same time, he says that if a Melville House work is chosen for an award, “we will offer the money to the winning author and translator. It’s up to them if they want to reject it or not. We’ll still promote the book, try and get people to read it, etc., etc.”

Lurking in the background of all this is Amazon this year launhced AmazonCrossing, a publishing imprint devoted to translations of foreign language books. Given the sparsity of translated literature in the U.S. (the percentage of which gives rise to the name of the Three Percent blog), it isn’t like Amazon is seeking to corner a huge market. I also think readers like me want to see more translated works published. At the same time, independent bookstores and publishers have long rightfully cast a wary eye at Amazon so it may not be surprising some could view Amazon’s growing involvement with translated literature as another step in trying to squeeze them out of existence.

I don’t know who is right, if anyone. I’m perhaps as conflicted. I love indie bookstores and translated lit but I also buy books from the local chain store and Amazon (and have links to Amazon on this blog). Yet as a reader of literature in translation, it is somewhat saddening that such a dispute arises between two organizations devoted to ensuring the quality of and accessibility to this type of literature.


National literature does not mean much these days; now is the age of world literature, and every one must contribute to hasten the arrival of that age.

Johann Wolfgang Von Goethe, Conversations with Eckermann