The Sentence – Louise Erdrich
Expectation: An engrossing retrospective of the not-too-distant past with an Indigenous perspective.
Reality: Meandering plots, ancillary characters and terrible narration by the author all overshadowed the strongest parts of the story.
My Take:
Louise Erdrich is an author I’ve been embarrassed to have never read, so when buzz around “The Sentence” started to build in late-2021, it seemed like the perfect entry point for this lauded wordsmith.
The novel had a lot going for it: the setting (Minneapolis), the perspective (Indigenious), the timing (our first pandemic year and all that entailed), the plot (a potentially cursed book) and a likable curmudgeon of a main character (Tookie).
The strongest sections to me - and the reason why I’d still give this a caveated recommendation to other readers - is for the Indigenous perspective on life today. Erdrich explored three themes from multiple angles and perspectives:
The many ways Indigenous culture is being kept alive in larger cities.
The proliferation of microaggressions by well-intended white people who really have no grasp on the scope of injustices perpetuated for centuries
What it was like to watch the city burn after George Floyd was killed and struggling to understand why no one ever rose to that level of anger for them.
As a former Minneapolitan, I also appreciated the frequent and organic mentions to real places around the city, Erdrich’s wry sense of humor and her social commentary on things big (pandemic response, racial fetishization and appropriation) and small (buying one book from an independent bookstore does not absolve you of all Amazon sins).
Yet, about halfway through the novel I began to lose interest.
While deeply reflective, the story became a scattershot of loosely connected ideas as Erdrich tried to balance the core plot (the killer book), Tookie’s experiences, the backstories of her family and coworkers, adjusting to pandemic life and the aftermath of the George Floyd murder.
Each of those would have stood on its own as an interesting novel, but the result was a mishmash. It almost felt like she started writing one novel but had to pivot the focus as world (and local) events unfolded. While writing can be a powerful tool to process emotions, many elements felt rushed, half-baked and, in some instances, an afterthought.
I never thought I’d say this, but the bookish sections were actually amongst the weakest. I was not charmed by the meta nature of Erdrich being her own minor character since Tookie works at her actual Minneapolis-based bookstore, Birchbark Books. The customers (outside of Flora) and coworkers all took up space without adding much.
In many ways this novel is the perfect encapsulation of what life was like in 2020. It’s a little aimless but trying its best. Still, it ended on a high note as the last several chapters tied all the disparate parts together.
While this may not have been the right Erdrich book to start with, I would be willing to read her again, but either as a physical read or if the novel is narrated by a professional.
Erdrich had no business narrating this audiobook. None. A robot could’ve given a more dynamic performance. Words of this caliber deserve a narration all-star, and the author is a far cry from that.
Rating (story): 3/5 stars
Rating (narration): 2/5 stars
Formats: Audiobook (SIL’s library)
Dates read: November 14 – November 21, 2022
Multi-tasking: Mixed. The text is easy to follow, but the narration isn’t. Erdrich’s delivery is too stilted and requires a lot of concentration.
