Book Club

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book

The Mothers and More Book Club meets bimonthly and is a subgroup of the Charleston Chapter of Mothers & More. Mothers & More is a national, nonprofit support and advocacy organization for mothers who have left the full-time paid workforce to raise their children at home. The group was created to support women dealing with transitions between paid employment and at-home motherhood. Founded in the Chicago area in 1987, the organization has more than 6,000 members nationwide. For more information about Mothers & More, visit their Web site at www.mothersandmore.org.

For more information about the book club, contact Amy amyw@charter.net.

The book

Members of the book club have recently been reading "One Thousand White Women: The Journals of May Dodd" (St. Martin's Press) by Jim Fergus. This first novel by Fergus is the story of May Dodd and a colorful assembly of pioneer women who, under the auspices of the U.S. government, travel to the Western prairies in 1875 to intermarry among the Cheyenne Indians.

The covert and controversial "Brides for Indians" program, launched by the administration of President Ulysses S. Grant, is intended to help assimilate the Indians into the white man's world. Toward that end, May and her friends embark upon the adventure of a lifetime. Here are short reviews of the book by members of the group.

Fiction does not require complete accuracy. Nonetheless, Jim Fergus attempts to provide both a romantic and candid perspective as the protagonist, May Dodd, writes in her journal about her journey into American Indian culture.

Although I found myself disbelieving some of the deeds that May Dodd claims the Cheyenne Tribe committed, the reader easily gets caught up in this turn-of-the-century adventure. There are exciting details about the tribal life such as the significance of tribes camping in circles, the artistry of warrior paint, and how tribes of hundreds dealt with the lack of plumbing.

From the beginning, the reader senses the imminent peril that will result from the "treaty" meant to assimilate the "savages" into the white man's "civilization." Despite her respect for her fellow tribe members, the distinction between "us" and "them" is a central theme in May's journals. The author walks a thin line between romanticizing tribal customs and confirming negative perceptions, showing that there continue to be many misunderstandings between cultures. One thing that is clear is the destructive influence of the white man's culture on American Indian culture from the start. May describes the devastating effect that alcohol has on her tribe and other American Indians that come in contact with it.

The excitement of exploring a new and seemingly lost world is the thread that holds May's journal adventure together. If the reader can overlook some of the far-fetched aspects of the book, the interesting descriptions of tribal life at this time in history are worth the read.

One of the most pleasing features of "One Thousand White Women" is Fergus' ability to capture the vast beauty of America's prairies. His experience as a hunting and fishing journalist for Sports Afield and Outside magazines serve him well as the novel brings to life the Great Plains' rich ecosystem of fauna and flora.

While researching the book, Fergus lived in a 1972 Airstream trailer following the trail of the Cheyenne through Oklahoma, Kansas, Colorado, Nebraska, Wyoming, South Dakota, North Dakota and Montana. The trailer was filled with books about the Indians and for many months he lived and breathed Cheyenne culture and ways.

In a recent interview, Fergus said: "I wanted to get a sense of the land. I've always loved the Great Plains and have spent a lot of time traveling around them. In most cases the native prairie has been radically altered by modern agriculture, but you still get a feeling of the vastness and intrinsic drama of the country. It's still a very spiritual place, and by immersing myself in Indian themes as I traveled, I began to imagine what it was like to have lived there 150 years ago."

This theme of the spirituality of place is conveyed throughout the novel. I ached along with May Dodd at the wild prairie turned to plow, the needless killings of millions of buffalo and wolves, and the harsh ugliness of the square streets of white settlements. In turn, I marveled at the enchantingly sacred Black Hills, the refreshing peace of a prairie creek, and the magnificent range of birds that May encounters in her travels.

I was two-thirds of the way through "One Thousand White Women" when I learned I would be reviewing it. At that point, I would have given it the "Siskel & Ebert" two thumbs down. The story up until then had been predictable and the characters contrived. Fortunately, I took my task seriously and pressed on to finish the story.

In an obvious attempt to field a wide range of issues, Fergus recruited some social pathologies from the 21st century. It is as if each character had been assigned a modern social issue and then been shoved into the late 19th century. May Dodd is a great example. A female of that era and social class would not have been as unguarded about her sexuality, regardless of her "renegade" nature. She relates not the slightest hint of angst about her situation. The same character in a modern novel would be believable.

Most of the characters and events are blatantly contrived. The twin white women marry twin warriors and then each gives birth on the same day to (you guessed it) twins. Of course, the chief chooses May Dodd as his bride even as the handsome Army captain falls hopelessly in love with her. Puh-lease!

What saves this book from the trash heap is the ending. It reaches down inside you and finds a stray unshriveled heartstring and gives it a good yank. After finishing the book, I changed my opinion. If this book were a movie I definitely would not save it for date night, but I would recommend it as a decent rental.

The foreword to "One Hundred White Women" clearly asserts that the book is entirely a work of fiction, with the exception of Chief Little Wolf requesting 1,000 white wives from President Grant.

Yet Fergus' depiction of Indian life and all the events of this difficult period feel so real, I found myself constantly questioning what in the book was or was not historically accurate. Were American women really subject to being put in an insane asylum for accusations of promiscuity? Was there actually a Gold Rush in the Black Hills of South Dakota?

This "obsession" with analyzing the veracity of every point was highly distracting and kept me from ever truly "suspending my disbelief" as good fiction usually allows a reader to do. In some ways, I wish I had read this book with no prior knowledge of its accuracy, as my overanalysis kept me from enjoying the author's clearly superb writing ability.

One theme I was struck by was the author's capturing of May Dodd's struggle with her identity through her journals. Early on, she makes a distinction between herself and the savages. Gradually, May's line blurs as she marries Chief Little Wolf, learns the Cheyenne language, and becomes accustomed to Indian ways. A major threshold is crossed when she abandons all her "civilized" clothing and begins to wear a squaw's buckskin dress with her hair in braids.

May Dodd is a courageous woman. As a young woman, she falls in love with a man of a different social class. She loved him deeply and bears him two children from this union. Her children prove to be the driving force of her courage.

She continued to reveal her true sense of courage even after she is admitted to a lunatic asylum by her family. She longs for the opportunity to escape from the asylum and embrace the "Brides for Indians" program as her means of discharge.

The journey from the asylum into the wilderness tests her fortitude. From giving inaccurate information that helps her to escape, to encounters with complete strangers on her journey into the unknown, she never wavers in her belief that this program is the only way to obtain her freedom.

During her life with the Indians, May's journals became her outlet. They allow her a way to document her memory and connection with the past, as well as her fears and plans for the future. Her strong sense of courage is a constant theme.

May faces everyday trials of coping with language barriers, customs, clothing, religion and family roles. But with equal strength she also faces huge challenges such as her forbidden romance with the engaged Army captain and the violence that plagued the Great Plains during this time period.

As the novel ends, it is clear that this book, May's journal, is not only a testament to her unbreakable courage, but is her only hope of reconnecting with her lost children.

By F. Laura Pullin

Upon reading the first "Notebook" in the journals of May Dodd, I was intrigued by the author's venture into a sensuous depiction of May's world. I found myself debating whether I should take the bait and allow myself to be carried away with his descriptions of primal passions. Or should I be critical of a male author's interpretation of sensuality through a woman's eyes?

I decided to allow my mind and heart to be seduced by Fergus' words. He combines primal passion and educated forethought in May's journal entries, which seem to relate to the conflict between the "civilized" world and the world of the "savages."

Fergus translates this passion through the "forbidden" relationships of three lovers. Whether through Shakespeare's poetry or primal dancing around the heat of a campfire, both evolve into the likeness of intimacy.

I enjoyed being caught up in Fergus' myth and being bathed in the warm waters of his passionate portrayal of humans' instinctive nature.