Here’s a review poet Mary Kasimor wrote about my poetry chapbook, White Out (Green Fuse Poetic Arts 2013). The poems are about white privilege and race, and a few of them talk about being a non-Native person and working for tribes.
Book Review
Troy Eid Review of Case & Voluck’s “Alaska Natives and American Laws, 3rd Ed.”
Troy A Eid has published a book review (PDF) of Alaska Natives and American Laws, by David S. Case and David A. Voluck, published in the Alaska Law Review.
An excerpt:
Alaska Natives and American Laws—”Case-Voluck,” for short—has been called the Alaskan equivalent of the late Felix Cohen’s Handbook of Federal Indian Law (“Cohen’s Handbook”), the Bible of the profession. Cohen’s Handbook, a massive work first published in 1941 and revised in recent years by more than three dozen Indian law scholars, itself describes Case-Voluck as a “comprehensive treatise on Alaska Native legal issues.” It is much more than that.
L.A. Review of Books on Thomas King’s “The Inconvenient Indian”
Review of Blake Watson’s “Buying America From the Indians”
Here.
H/t Legal History Blog.
Tim Garrison Review of “The Eagle Returns”
Published in the Michigan Historical Review:
Michigan Historical Review of TER
It is a great honor to have The Eagle Returns reviewed by Professor Garrison. Migwetch!
Elizabeth Cook-Lynn on “Unjustifiable Expectations”
I’m honored that historian and Professor Emerita Elizabeth Cook-Lynn has reviewed one of my law review articles in Native Sun News.
A Book Review: ‘Unjustifiable Expectations’ by Ann E. Tweedy
WSJ: Book Review of Robert Utley’s “Geronimo” and Terry Mort’s “The Wrath of Cochise”
Here.
Carole Goldberg on D’arcy McNickle’s “The Surrounded”
Carole Goldberg has published a review of the classic novel by D’Arcy McNickle, “The Surrounded,” in the Michigan Law Review’s annual Survey of Books Related to the Law. The PDF is here: A Native Vision of Justice.
A synopsis:
Although largely unheralded in its time, D’Arcy McNickle’s The Surrounded has become a classic of Native American literature. When the University of New Mexico Press reissued the book in 1978, a year after McNickle’s death, the director of Chicago’s Newberry Library, Lawrence W. Towner, predicted (correctly) that it would “reach a far wider audience.” Within The Surrounded are early stirrings of a literary movement that took flight several decades after the novel’s first publication in the writings of N. Scott Momaday, Louise Erdrich, James Welch, Leslie Marmon Silko, and Gerald Vizenor, among others. All of these Native American authors share with McNickle a desire to present, from a Native perspective, the challenges of establishing identity and sustaining community in a world where indigenous societies must contend with powerful forces of colonization and modernity. Literary critics have offered sharply differing interpretations of the ultimate message The Surrounded conveys about the future of indigenous peoples. Some view the novel as a statement of despair, while others discern McNickle’s confidence in the strength of Native cultures and their capacity for renewal. There is broad consensus, however, that The Surrounded is a seminal work.
What the literary critics have largely overlooked is the novel’s pointed analysis and critique of criminal justice in Indian country. Much of the novel’s plot is driven by acts viewed as criminal by the dominant, non-Native social order. The protagonist, Archilde Leon, returns home to the Flathead Reservation of the Confederated Salish and Kootenai Tribes in Montana, hoping to say a last farewell to his family before making his way as a fiddler in the cities. His relationship with both parents has become strained, following his education in the local Catholic mission school and in a federal Indian boarding school. For different reasons, neither parent wanted him to pursue his ambition of making his way far from home in a big city. Greeting him is news that his older brother, Louis, is hiding in the mountains, accused of stealing horses-conduct outlawed by the local authorities but long carried out by the Salish against their enemies. Archilde’s non-Indian father is so displeased with Louis’s behavior that he has disassociated himself from the other members of his family, living apart from his Salish wife, Catharine, and refusing all contact with Louis. At first, Archilde also feels alienated from the more traditional Salish ways that Catharine, his mother, still practices, despite her long-ago conversion to Catholicism. But as he develops greater appreciation for his mother-through feasts and Salish stories told in his honor by the blind elder, Old Modeste-Archilde agrees to accompany her on one last hunting trip into the snowy mountains. There they first encounter the hostile local sheriff, Sheriff Quigley, and later are surprised to discover Louis. Louis proceeds to shoot a young, female deer. When the local game warden comes upon the group and accuses Louis of violating state game laws, there is a confrontation, and the warden mistakenly believes Louis is about to shoot him. The warden fires his gun, killing Louis, and a furious Catharine steals behind the warden and fells him with a hatchet.
Stuart Banner’s New Book Reviewed by Liptak in the NYTs
Here.
We’re big fans of Stuart, and his new book (“The Baseball Trust: A History of Baseball’s Antitrust Exemption”) looks great.
Harvard Law Review Book Review by Richard Hasen of Jack Abramoff Book
Here.
Excerpts:
One of his greatest faults, he explains in a bit of false modesty, was that he was giving away too much money to charity while he was raking in funds from competing Native American tribes and taking money on the side for his consulting work with business partner Mike Scanlon in an arrangement he did not disclose to his clients (pp. 166, 193).
And:
At many points in the book, Abramoff describes himself in the best possible light. He downplays his business prowess in explaining his questionable SunCruz dealings with Adam Kidan (p. 138). He further says that it “never occurred to us” that his use of a nonprofit organization to launder funds from Native American tribes to himself and Scanlon was illegal (p. 190). He even hedges on the main charge of self-dealing with the tribes:
I neglected to tell my clients how much I was profiting from these grassroots efforts. I reasoned that the tribes and clients were happy with their victories, that our efforts were priced in accordance with their value and that they were paying what they agreed to pay to stop threats they identified to us, after proper fee negotiations. Plus, I wasn’t even keeping the money I made anyway. I was giving away upwards of 80 percent ofmy income for good causes and to help people. What could possibly be wrong with any of this? (p. 193)
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