Love Medicine

Louise Erdrich’s first novel traces the intertwined stories of two families who live on a North Dakota Ojibwe reservation: the more serious, conservative Kashpaws and the wilder, no-good Lamartines. The two families are linked by love, lust, marriage, adoption, hatred, jealousy, and tenderness; they’re split by pride, shotguns, Vietnam, and debt. The story is told through a series of interlinked narratives, each told from a different point of view (some first-person, some not), ranging backward and forward in time from about the 1930s through the 1980s, when the book was written. Teresa and I had both had this book on our lists for a long time, so we decided to make this one a joint review!

Jenny: I’m just going to jump right in and say I loved this book. Loved the characters, loved the humor and the bitterness, loved the writing. I want to reassure people right away that, at least for me, the technique of using interlinked stories didn’t feel disjointed or strange. Instead, I felt as if I was looking at a tapestry or a stained-glass window: there are different scenes, and you have to put in a little effort, but it’s clear they make up part of a larger whole. These families were entities, even though the members were very individual. I felt that the sense of clan was one of the strong points of the book: not overdone, but palpable.

Teresa: I thought the nonlinear structure was perfect for this book. It really made me focus on the characters—each chapter felt like a little character study. I think with a more traditional linear narrative, I would be more interested in who did what to whom and choosing up sides and deciding who to root for and against. This structure almost always kept me on the side of the character who was in the spotlight at the time.

I was actually a bit worried about how the whole notion of family and clan would be handled, having never read Erdrich before and not knowing much about her. The title made me think this might be one of those books where family love is the best medicine. Realizing that medicine would mean something different in American Indian cultures than in my own, I feared that it would be overly sentimental, but with a spiritual, other-worldly twist. I was delighted to see that this was not the case. As you say, the sense of clan is never overdone. The characters are haunted by one another, but that hauntedness brings as many complications as it does blessings. And the actual chapter that’s titled “Love Medicine” is particularly unsentimental!

Jenny: The word “haunted” is perfectly chosen. Sometimes those hauntings are literal — there are real ghosts in this book — but sometimes they are the ghosts of things the characters wish they had done, or relationships they wish they had, or ways they want to live. I felt that this novel was full of paths not taken and people who change in ways neither they nor their family could possibly expect. There’s Henry Jr., who comes back utterly different from Vietnam (“Crown of Thorns”), and Lulu Lamartine, who finally learns to weep from her oldest friend and enemy (“The Good Tears”). But you’re right. None of this is ever sentimental. Moving, often, but not sentimental.

One thing I found interesting was the picture of reservation life. Just to give one example, I’m used to seeing the courts and the police as being, generally, on my side. They may make mistakes, but they do justice. In this book, it’s clear that the system always and only brings trouble; if you’re face to face with The Man, from the sheriff to the IRS, it’s because there’s something bad coming your way. There’s unemployment, alcoholism, and government housing on one hand, and on the other is a sense of endless patience, of strength, and of wry fatalistic humor. I loved the portrait of the strong older Ojibwe women in particular, and the way they guided events.

Teresa: The depiction of reservation life really shows Erdrich’s strength as a writer. It would have been so easy for the injustice and the struggles to lead her to lecture her readers, but she never takes that route. She show us these characters’ lives, and we can see how governmental policies and tribal practices affect them, but the point doesn’t seem to be to convince readers that changes need to happen. I frequently find “issues novels” unconvincing because I feel like I’m being manipulated to think a certain way. I never felt that way here. At heart, this is a story about people, not about “issues.”

What surprised me more than anything here was the humor. I laughed out loud several times! “Saint Marie” and “Love Medicine” were especially hilarious, but I laughed quite a lot, often at moments where you’d think shock or anger would be the natural reaction. Somehow, though, Erdrich finds the ridiculousness in the situation and brings it right to the front. Truly stunning.

Jenny: Oh, the humor is woven throughout the book, but I don’t want to give the impression that it’s this big comedyfest. It made me cry as well as laugh, and there were places that did make me angry or shock me. What I loved best was the sense of connection. The main reason I read is to learn more about the human mind and heart, to understand other people better. This book did that so beautifully. I kept thinking as I read how astonishing it must have been to review this as Erdrich’s debut novel. There’s scarcely a foot put wrong here, hardly an awkward word. Iwill definitely be reading more of her work, and I’m so glad I read Love Medicine.

This entry was posted in Fiction. Bookmark the permalink.

14 Responses to Love Medicine

  1. litlove says:

    I loved reading your conversation and am so glad to have your heartfelt recommendation. I just put this book on my wish list the other day and now the difficulty will be preventing myself from ordering it immediately!

    • Jenny says:

      Why prevent yourself? After my confusing and frustrating read earlier that week, I settled into this one with an audible sigh of relief. It’s wonderful.

  2. Steph says:

    What a great double-review, ladies! Erdrich is a novelist I’d really like to try, but haven’t had the opportunity to do so yet. I’ve been most intrigued by Plague of Doves, but this one sounds fascinating also. I’m glad to hear she’s such a rewarding author!

  3. I have been wanting to read more of Erdrich since reading Plague of Doves. I know she is a great author.

    • Jenny says:

      Well, this one comes highly recommended! I don’t want to speak for Teresa for sure, but I wanted to start with this one because her novels are somewhat linked (at least taking place in the same area, like Faulkner’s) and this is her first.

  4. Jeanne says:

    This novel was given away free last fall in my town, the author came to give a talk, and my daughter’s high school class got to meet her and ask questions. The novel did not get much of a positive reception around here. Reading it produced one lasting effect on the high school crowd, which is that when one of them asks another “do you like butter?” the answer must be “no!.” (The scene in which two characters have sex with butter is what they will retain forever.)

    • Jenny says:

      How odd! I didn’t even remember that scene vividly; I had to go look it up when you mentioned it. It was truly a wonderful novel. I’m sorry to hear that the high schoolers didn’t get more out of it. And the butter isn’t a Last Tango in Paris thing or anything.

  5. Christy says:

    I checked this book out of the library earlier this year, but didn’t get around to it before the due date. Thanks for the tandem review and for reminding me that I need to check out this book or any book by Louise Erdrich for that matter!

  6. Emily says:

    I loved this book too, for all the reasons you mention: the writing, the vivid portrait of reservation life, the dark humor. And, like both of you, I was pleasantly surprised by the lack of gooey spirituality/sentimentality. (Not saying all sentiment/spirituality is gooey, but you know what I mean.) I’ve read a few others of her novels and have never been as impressed as I was with Love Medicine, although The Beet Queen was probably my second favorite.

    Always love your double-reviews, ladies!

    • Jenny says:

      I didn’t expect gooiness (sp?) because Erdrich is the favorite author of one of my least-sentimental friends. But I was delighted with what I did read. Thanks for the recommendation for The Beet Queen!

  7. Aarti says:

    I realize this is a very late comment, but I just started this book this morning and wanted to come write here. I’m only about 10 pages in, but it’s so engaging! And i was thrilled to see it’s part of a quartet. I’ve never read Erdrich before, but I like her writing style, so hopefully I’ll find more of her!

  8. Pingback: Love Medicine (review) « The Alcove

Leave your comment here, and feel free to respond to others' comments. We enjoy a lively conversation!

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.