Title: One Thousand White Women
Author: Jim Fergus
Genre: Historical Fiction
Publisher: St. Martin's Griffin
Published: 1999
Pages: 320
Rating: 5 out of 10
In the 1870's, a Cheyenne chief traveled to Washington to make a
proposition to Ulysses S. Grant himself: allow the Cheyenne a 'gift' of white women for them to marry, in order to integrate their cultures together. The request
was, of course, denied, but what if it hadn't been? This is the idea
that
One Thousand White Women embellishes upon. It is the supposedly
recovered journal of May Dodd, a young woman who has been unjustly
imprisoned in a mental hospital by her own family. When she hears about
the 'Brides for Indians' program, she jumps at the chance to escape her
dismal existence and travel into a new life. Accompanied by an eclectic
group of women also hoping to begin afresh, May becomes a part of the
Cheyenne tribe. Though she can see herself enjoying this new lifestyle,
the peace she has found in the prairie is interrupted by the spell new
alcohol has cast over the Indian braves, and by the way May has been
drawn to a handsome army Captain.
I just loved the new, fresh idea of
this book. I have read books where white women marry or fall in love
with Native Americans of course, but this one had a new twist.
I enjoyed it, but unfortunately, there were an array of things wrong with it, making it neutral for me.
Fergus
was skilled at writing endearing characterizations, quaint and
charmingly heartwarming in a style that reminded me of
Anne of Green
Gables or
Little House on the Prairie. He takes on quite a few
different accents to go with certain characters. At first they annoyed
me, but after I got used to them, they added to the characterization. However,
though his first-impression caricatures were very nice, most of the
time they weren't able to carry through the rest of the book. Little
quirks of physical characteristics seem to define most of the
characters, and by the time the book is nearly over, Fergus has come to
lean on them very heavily. For example, Gretchen is strong-armed and
tough, Phemie is "graceful," Narcissa is strictly religious.
Our
main character are narrator, May, was perhaps too modern, but overall,
she was okay. The author never gave her any of the familiarizing little
quirks that he gave so many of the other women, and I didn't like her as
much as other, less important characters. May's ideas seemed a bit too
suspiciously ahead of her time, such as her lack of religion, her
feminist ideas, and other minor things such as her skill at horseback
riding, and not sidesaddle!
Sometimes, a lack of thorough
editing emerges. When remembering assaults at the mental hospital, May
says "I prayed to kill him..." as the event was taking place. So... she
is praying that God will kill the man? That God will let her kill him?
That God will kill him later?
Another clunky sentence was: "When her
part in the deception was discovered, as it surely would be, Martha
knew that she faced..." Wait, has her 'part in the deception' been
discovered yet or not? Because it "was" discovered, and then it "would
be" discovered, and then Martha "faced..." instead of "would face..."
At another point, May says that her female companions "all
know by now the reason of my incarceration." But how would they ever be
able to find this out?
I also found quite a few disturbing aspects to this book. The author took up an armful of stereotypes and ran with them.
Gretchen,
a German woman, was incredibly stereotypical. Because aren't all German
women brutishly large in size, crass, blunt,
strong-armed, and fond of beating up their poor husbands?
Phemie, the
only African American woman in the group, could hardly be mentioned
without having our attention called to her "black skin," her "lithe
grace." At one point, another character even says that black people are
fast runners. And look at that - it's true! Phemie is the fastest runner
of them all! Another later says that all black people have natural
rhythm. And would you believe it, there Phemie is dancing and swaying to
the Indian music with the grace of a born dancer. It is also remarked
that African Americans have good voices, and sure enough, you guessed
it, Phemie has a beautiful, rich voice.
The religious woman,
Narcissa, is the typical Bible-pounding conservative, offensive and
annoying, that we see portrayed in so many other volumes.
A genteel lady from the deep South is given the obvious character of a self-righteous, extremely racist, whiskey-swilling prude.
Really,
couldn't the author have been more inventive, and realized that many of
his characterizations were in fact teetering on the edge of "typical"
and falling into "offensive?"
Another disturbing thing I found was that very bad scenes in the book were later brushed off casually, without repercussions.
There
is a horrific, drunken night, in which the Indian braves become
intoxicated on liquor given to them by white men, and go about
terrorizing the camp - beating wives, setting things afire, and raping
women). A particular girl named Daisy is raped multiple times by a group
of men. In another scene, a man assaults May and attempts to rape her.
Another character later dies, and a man is at one point discovered of
"buggering" little children.
All of these things are terrible - obviously.
Does the author see it this way?
Perhaps as he is writing them, but after that, they seem to vanish from his (and the character's) minds.
Most
of these events happen and that is the end of them. A few paragraphs
later, they are forgotten, without anything ever coming as a result of
them. I couldn't believe it once I noticed the pattern.
Thirdly, I
was disturbed by May's past being erased. She was placed into a mental
hospital by her parents, for having children out of wedlock and living
with a man to whom she was not married. Her children and lover are taken
away, never to be seen again.
Though she tells us that she misses
her children a couple times, I never quite believed her. Of course she
misses them, but what kind of mother would just forget about her own
children? Her parents do not live on the ends of the earth - they are
still right there, in Chicago. Couldn't May have made some sort of
effort to get back, or even visit, her children? Wouldn't she have
placed seeing her children over everything else? I thought that in the
end, they would be re-united. But just as the author erases his
character's minds of other things, he so erases the memory of May's
children from her memory, and from the story. This just struck me as
sad, and wrong.
And lastly, I was a bit disquieted by the fact
that May, while still mourning the loss of her partner/boyfriend, has
sex with a man she has known for 2 days, while engaged (technically) to
another man (one of the Indians she is traveling to wed). I rolled my
eyes when May convinces herself that she is now in love with this man.
Then she has sex with her husband, once she marries him, passionately
and with much enjoyment. But is still in love with someone else. It just annoyed me a bit - mostly the fact that May thinks herself and the Captain a couple after two days in each other's company.
Many improbabilities, stretching the imagination
just a bit too far, popped up through-out the story. To name a few, the
author randomly places a black man in the Indian tribe (wow - so
probable!) for Phemie to marry, because I suppose it would be
so unthinkable for her to marry interracially. I can't imagine why, or how this could
be considered likely, but it happens. Even worse is that two twins,
Maggie and Susan, are married off to twin Indians. Well, of course! And
May herself, our main character, is matched with the chief of the tribe.
So
if there were so very many problems with
One Thousand White Women,
why did I still manage to enjoy it? Well, it was easy to get through. It
was good light reading, while still maintaining that historical
atmosphere that can often mask shallowness to being virtually
undetectable. And despite all the racist and stereotypical characters,
many of them were quite endearing, and I always sympathized with them
and wished them all the best. There were some warm, funny scenes, and
the author is admittedly quite good at making the reader like his
characters. The pictures of the wild, beautiful prairie were well done.
In
short, this is a book that should have been marvelous, but is reduced
to average: and that's only if you can get past the uneasily glossed
over offensive aspects of it.