The plight of John Smith, an Indian stolen as a baby from his parents and brought up by whites. Angry because he has no roots he joins the street people, becoming a suspect when Seattle is hit by a serial killer who scalps his all-white victims. By the author of Reservation Blues.
Such was my hunch after reading Indian Killer. Much more than a mystery, Indian Killer is an epic construct of the alienated and isolated American Indian, perhaps even just the American experience. Alexie interweaves the interconnectedness of a disparate set of characters, Indian and otherwise, within the mist and cold of Seattle.
The main theme of the story deals with the advancement of John Smith, adopted Spokane Indian by a young non-native couple from Seattle into adulthood. Smith is the symbol, the representation of alienation and marginalization, his actions set around a series of violent murders unhinging the city. The greater story, however, concerns itself more around the other archetypes Alexie so often seems conflicted with: the whites who are Indians of the "Wannabe Tribe", the academics who hijack Indian stories, the perpetually exploited and oppressed Indians, and the rednecks who take advantage when the right moment arises.
Alexie artfully interweaves each of these elements, while simultaneously providing beautifully rich detail of the setting. His description of Seattle, though not forced, is intensely deliberate. The distinctive neighborhoods, the dank roadways, the huddled yet resilient groups of homeless, the bookstores, and the water that envelops, isolates each.
In short, Indian Killer is a masterpiece. Sherman Alexie brings the Indian, but leaves the human imprint on the reader. It's a tragedy that belongs within the realm of magical realism, though savoring the magic within his writing is supremely uplifting.
Alexei does a good job, this is different than his other books, but only slightly: it’s one part mystery, one part detailed fiction, one part poetry, and one part revolution. Read it. Now.
With this novel, I thought Alexie wrote a compelling book with interesting characters. The characters are believable; none are perfect and indeed there are very few clear-cut "good guys" and "bad guys." Seeing from many perspectives allowed that point to sink in ever further. You might despise a character for their violence in one chapter, but in another you have some sympathy for their grief. Understandably given the gist of the book, Alexie brings up a lot about race, including identity and stereotyping. There are no easy answers here either, and again, no one comes out looking good.
I very much enjoyed this book as a thought-provoking yet entertaining read. The prose is beautiful and accessible. The only reason I didn't rate it higher is because I wasn't a huge fan of how open-ended the conclusion was. After 400+ pages, I wanted a little more closure than I got. Still, it was an interesting enough book that I would recommend it.
John Smith was an Indian baby, given up for adoption to white parents; he is now an adult and working in construction. Marie is an Indian student, taking a Native American Literature class at school; she is also an activist, who is questioning her professor at every turn. Her cousin, Reggie, had previously taken the same class, but got kicked out after an altercation with that same professor. When a white man is found dead and scalped, people in Seattle are afraid, and there is much violence and retaliation on the part of both white people and Indians that takes place.
It was quick and easy to read. I kind of knew the ending before I started it, so I'm not sure if that detracted from it or not for me. I don't think so, but the ending was slightly disappointing, anyway. As a warning, this book is quite violent at times.
Alexie crafts a literary thriller that explores issues of racism, isolation, and mental illness.
A serial murderer known as “The Indian Killer” is terrorizing Seattle, hunting, killing and scalping white men. John Smith was taken from his Native American teen-age mother at birth and given to a white couple, who adopted him and raised him in a loving family. He has grown into a strong and handsome man, who lives quietly on the fringe of society. As the story progresses it becomes clear that John suffers from mental illness. The question is whether he is the Indian Killer.
Alexie peoples his Seattle neighborhoods with a variety of characters, though most are thinly drawn. We have angry students, arrogant college professors, puzzled middle-class parents, alcoholic homeless men, and young men who prefer to use their fists. There are plenty of people here who threaten (and commit) violence on each other. Could one of them be the killer instead of John? The main problem is that none of these characters is fully fleshed out. Alexie gives us lots of hints, but few facts, and leaves us wondering “who dunnit?”
I am usually pretty tolerant of ambiguous endings, but I was disappointed in the “non-ending” here. I can only assume that this is Alexie’s way of showing that there really is no end to the hatred that we humans feel towards one another. It’s a pretty bleak outlook. Still, the book moved quickly for me; I was drawn in and couldn’t read fast enough.
My professor did tell me that Sherman Alexie does not consider this one of his best works.
This was a reread for me and it was nothing like I recalled. John Smith, born to a 14-year-old Indian girl and given up for adoption to a white upper-middle-class couple, grows up without any real knowledge of his tribal heritage. As apparent schizophrenia develops for John, its tentacles of delusion, hallucination, and paranoia intertwine themselves with his reasonably-evolving roots of rage and isolation. John moves to Seattle and begins working construction. He also seeks belonging and safety in a world that is simply incomprehensible to him. His rage is murderous and, as he works to find his way in this city, a rash of violence emerges: white men are being killed, apparently by an Indian who leaves a "calling card" indicating his Native American identity. The violence escalates; Native American homeless people are particularly targeted for horrific battering.
This novel, surely not Alexie's best, is peopled with angry Native American students, angry white guys, a sad white Wannabe novelist who claims expertise in all things Indian, and some very sympathetic people who are just trying to get along. Its violence is real and I know that, years after the novel's publication, Alexie himself questioned his own writing and the commanding, unflinching presence of the violence. And yet. Here, in 2017, as we watch the national dialogue deteriorate inexorably into deep incivility, and as we witness ascendent, apparently incurable racist divisions and the spread of violence as a "solution," Alexie's novel is timely and astute. He may retroactively feel sheepish about his rage. But this is exactly the rage we are seeing in our society today.