Blasphemy is a collection of thirty-one short stories written by a favorite storyteller of mine, Sherman Alexie. It should be noted, however, that Mr. Alexie got caught up in that whole “Me Too” movement back in 2018 after perhaps as many as fifty women came forward to say that he had sexually harassed them. The ensuing fallout was real and deserved: scholarships with his name on them got renamed, for instance, and although Alexie publishes weekly on Substack these days, I don’t know of a single major publication of his since his 2017 memoir You Don’t Have to Say You Love Me. I have been told that some bookstores refuse to carry even his previously published work now. That’s quite a fall from grace for someone who has won the National Book Award, the PEN/Hemingway, the PEN/Faulkner, and the PEN/Malamud among other awards.
Myself, I have been able to separate the man’s work from his personal life (at least to this point), but I think it is only fair to mention all of this because I know that many of you, perhaps even most of you, will not want to do the same. Thus the full disclosure.
Some of the stories in Blasphemy were previously published in magazines such as Harper’s, Narrative, and The New Yorker. Each of the stories features Indian (as Alexie himself calls his people) characters and settings, most of them being of the Spokane tribe. Alexie himself grew up on the Spokane Indian Reservation about an hour from Spokane, Washington.
Alexie has a special talent for creating fully-fleshed characters within the space of just a few pages, often using a cutting sense of humor and irony to make the characters or their situations more relatable to his readers. Here are a few examples of his style:
“So I felt sorry for the protestors who believed in what they were doing. They were good-hearted people looking to change the system. But when you start fighting for every Indian, you end up defending the terrible ones, too.” (From “Cry Cry Cry”)
'“I saw you in my head,” Frank said. “You’re supposed to be dead. I saw you dead.”
“You have blurry vision,” said Harrison”’ (From “What Ever Happened to Frank Snake Church)
“After Norma left me, I’d occasionally get postcards from powwows all over the country. She missed me in Washington, Oregon, Idaho, Montana, Nevada, Utah, New Mexico, and California. I just stayed on the Spokane Indian Reservation and missed her from the doorway of my HUD house, from the living room window, waiting for the day that she would come back.” (From “The Approximate Size of my Favorite Tumor”)
'“Your father was always half crazy,” my mother told me more than once. “And the other half was on medication.”’ (From “What My Father Always Said…”)
The stories in Blasphemy range from lighthearted ones to deadly serious ones, and some of them can be difficult to categorize because Alexie always manages to see a good bit of dark humor where you might least expect to find it. Some of the stories are set on the reservation, some in Spokane, and a few in Seattle, but no matter where they take place, Alexie’s characters are all fighting the same fight for survival. And the odds always seem to be stacked against them.
For example, in “This Is What It Means to Say Phoenix, Arizona,” he says of his main character:
“The only real thing he shared with anybody was a bottle and broken dreams."
And in “Protest” he offers this observation about a character:
“Jimmy’s last act was to disappear, and that was probably the most Indian thing he had ever done."
A Sherman Alexie short story is always interesting despite the inherent despair that he so often writes about. Alexie can be particularly revealing when writing through the eyes of a white character interacting with the Indians he knows so well, an approach he often uses, and one that works well for him.
So there you have it. If you still want to read Sherman Alexie, Blasphemy is a good place to start. He is, I think, still an important writer for readers who want to get a close, frank look at the Native American culture of today. That he let himself down, and disappointed his people to the degree that he did is sad for all concerned - especially for his victims, most of whom were fellow Native Americans.
I've never read his books and didn't know about his fall from grace but I am always interested in reading about authors whose work is so much associated with a culture unknown to me. I also think it's hard to write about a short story collection so admire your highlighting of this collection.
ReplyDeleteHe’s such a good writer that it breaks my heart that he has done what he’s apparently done (he did offer a sort of public apology at one point, so there’s not just smoke there). His stories are every bit as satisfying to me as a novel on the same topic or theme would be. I find him such an easy author to highlight that I never read him with a marker in hand. He tends to make me laugh or smile in even the saddest of his stories.
DeleteLove the quotes you give; seems like he's a really good writer. It's too bad he wasn't as stellar as a human being. Though no one is perfect, and I do believe in redemption and second chances. I hope he can make amends for his past choices.
ReplyDeleteHe’s such a quotable writer, Lark, that it’s hard to choose just a few to highlight. I don’t know what his personal situation is right now because I don’t subscribe to his Substack account, but I hope he’s learned just how destructive his supposed behavior was for his victims - and not just for himself.
DeleteI bought his memoir last night but won’t be reading it for a while. I did pick up that his mother was abusive and that he himself was raped twice as a boy. It’s no excuse for what he’s allegedly done, but it makes it more understandable. Generation to generation…it goes on and on and on. Sad.
It is sad. Even sadder that it happened to so many women and that it took so long for their stories to come out and be believed.
DeleteI usually succeed in separating the art from the artist. This happened for me years ago when women were condemning Picasso for his personal life. I kept my admiration for the genius of his painting.
ReplyDeleteI can usually separate the two sides of an artist unless that artist is obviously unrepentant and continues a similar behavior pattern. There are definitely a few writers and actors I can’t stomach anymore for that reason, but in this case Alexie seems to have quietly gone on with what’s left of his life, so I can still enjoy his work.
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