Ceremony (1977)

Right up front, I've got to say that Leslie Marmon Silko's Ceremony is one of the best novels I've ever read. I don't read much fiction any more--especially contemporary fiction--because I'm so often disappointed by novels. But Ceremony is extraordinary. I had the novel on my bookshelves for a long time (I don't even know where I got it, it's been so long), and I finally picked it up for vacation reading because it's a slender paperback and easy to carry. Ceremony is not your typical "beach read." It's demanding, but confidently and beautifully written, and rewarding.

The novel recounts the story of Tayo, a young Native American, who was held prisoner by the Japanese in the Philippines during World War II, and the horrors of captivity that almost crushed his will to survive. His return to the Laguna Pueblo Reservation west of Albuquerque only increases his feelings of estrangement and alienation. While other returning soldiers find easy refuge in alcohol and senseless violence, Tayo searches for another kind of comfort and resolution.

Tayo's quest leads him back to the Indian past and its traditions, to beliefs about witchcraft and evil, and to the ancient stories of his people. The search itself becomes a ritual, a curative ceremony that defeats Tayo's most virulent affliction: despair.

The novel is set in the Laguna Pueblo Reservation and in Gallup, New Mexico. Silko includes beautiful, memorable descriptions of the Southwestern landscape and its effect on her characters. It's not "nature writing," but parts come damn close.

American Gods

In March, I stopped by a Barnes and Noble store. Featured on one of the tables near the entrance was a collection of short fiction and poetry by Neil Gaiman, an author with whom I was not acquainted. The blurbs in the book sounded interesting, but I wasn't ready to commit on the spot. So, a few days later, I went onto Amazon.com and checked out the reviews of some of his work.

First, most of the reviewers thought that Gaiman's novels were better than his shorter fiction, so I felt vindicated that I hadn't bought the collection. The general consensus among the reviews seemed to be that his novels American Gods and Neverland were his two best works, and the reviews seemed to tip slightly in favor of American Gods. So, I borrowed the book from the library and took it along on my trip to San Diego. I cracked open the book on my outbound flight...and was instantly captivated.

I have to say that the novel, which is 460 pages long, didn't keep me as completely captivated throughout as did the first chapter, but I am definitely a fan. American Gods is probably the strangest novel I've ever read, and parts of it are deeply disturbing and graphic. But Gaiman is like a cross between H.P. Lovecraft, Mark Twain, and Jack Kerouac. The book is definitely oriented toward male readers; most women, I believe, would find it subliminally sexist and portions of it especially disturbing. Nevertheless, I haven't been reading much fiction lately, and I'm not sorry that that I picked up this book.