OCTOBER 2023 - AudioFile
Isabella Star LaBlanc tells the story of three generations of Dakota women in a reverse timeline as they recount their pivotal girlhood years. Sissy, born in 1961; Lillian, born in 1925; and Cora, born in 1888, deal with hardships like generational trauma and brutal Indian boarding schools by clinging to the comfort of their dolls. LaBlanc uses bright voices for the various girls and a Native accent for their parents, a choice that helps portray how each generation loses more and more of the Dakota language and ways. She also makes the girls' dolls sound friendly, even when they take a stern caregiver role. S.S. © AudioFile 2023, Portland, Maine
Publishers Weekly
★ 06/05/2023
In the wrenching latest from Power (Standing Rock Sioux), three generations of Dakhóta women grapple with a legacy of mistreatment by the U.S. government. The story unspools in reverse, beginning in 1960s Chicago with second-grader Lillian Holy Thunder; her erratic, often-angry mother, also named Lillian; and her patient father, Cornelius. Lillian regularly flings herself under the bed to hide from her mother, who dies from falling down the stairs while in a rage. The next section centers on the senior Lillian, who grows up on a reservation in North Dakota with a stable mother and a volatile, alcoholic father in the 1930s until she’s forced to attend an Indian boarding school in Bismarck with her older sister Blanche. There, Lillian meets her future husband, Cornelius, with whom she steals happy and mischievous moments until Blanche is poisoned with lye by one of the nuns as punishment for singing a song about Sitting Bull. Blanche dies, and Lillian never recovers from the trauma. In the third section, set in the 1880s, Lillian’s mother, Cora, is sent to an infamous Indian boarding school in Pennsylvania, where she is required to burn all personal belongings, cut her hair, and abandon Native culture and traditions. Power’s deep knowledge of Indigenous history comes through in keen depictions of the Indian schools, and she illuminates the characters’s struggles with generational trauma, which arise as they try to sustain their connections to the past. This story of survival shines brightly. Agent: Rachel Letosky, Cooke McDermid Literary. (Aug.)
From the Publisher
Power’s deep knowledge of Indigenous history comes through in keen depictions of the Indian schools, and she illuminates the characters’ struggles with generation trauma, which arise as they try to sustain their connections to the past. This story of survival shines brightly.” — Publishers Weekly (starred review)
“A Council of Dolls reached out, grabbed me and did not let go. Power’s ability to make language sing, cry, scream, and laugh illuminates this heartstopper of a book that shines a light into the dark corners of America’s history. I wanted the generational journey I was taking with these unforgettable characters—and their dolls—to never end. Read it—and be healed.” — Marie Myung-Ok Lee, author of The Evening Hero
“A Council of Dolls absorbs through the skin, enters the bone, and disperses through the psyche—it perfectly captures the internal roots of the Native experience. Through the lives of three Dakota women, we grapple with the emotional, psychological, and spiritual toll on Indigenous peoples enduring an often brutal system and, moreover, how strength, healing, and love reverberate down each passing generation to dispense hope and resiliency. I cannot more highly recommend Power’s newest masterpiece.” — Oscar Hokeah, PEN/Hemingway award-winning author of Calling for a Blanket Dance
"Moving...hypnotic." — Minneapolis Star Tribune
"Mona Susan Power’s new novel is an honor song to the love and strength of Native families and our stories, to our brilliant selves. I couldn’t have known how much I needed the wisdom and offerings of these pages." — Kelli Jo Ford, author of Crooked Hallelujah
“This tender and magical novel will stay with me for a long time. Mona Susan Power writes with dazzling empathy. The result is a heart-rending and many-layered narrative, a captivating story which is also a thrilling testimonial to the power of stories.” — Margot Livesey, author of The Boy in the Field
A resplendent novel about the spirited lives of three inspiring women who endure significant change and hardship. Each story so deeply compelling I wanted to read quickly but was magnetized by the transformative power of each voice. A mighty, dazzling whirlwind of storytelling. These stories lift from the page. Prepare to stay up all night. A Council of Dolls is mesmerizing. Take a deep breath! Mona Susan Power can peer into darkness and transform it." — Debra Magpie Earling — Debra Magpie Earling
“A work of exquisite beauty and courageous truth-telling, and an unforgettable homage to ancestral suffering and strength.” — Sheila O’Connor, author of Evidence of V
“A talent like Susan Power comes along once in a lifetime, and lucky for us she's arrived. Here is a debut so stunning, so extraordinary in its depth and passion, you will swear there's a miracle on every page.” — Alice Hoffman, on The Grass Dancer
“The Grass Dancer is astonishing, and not simply because it's Susan Power's first book. It is pure and potent magic, with storytelling that encircles you like wisps of tribal ghosts." — Amy Tan
“This is a wild river of a book. Susan Power writes with a headlong energy and a force that are nothing less than thrilling. The Grass Dancer is painfully authentic, and Anna Thunder one of the most compelling female characters in contemporary fiction.” — Louise Erdrich
“Captivating…a healing vision that goes to the core of our humanity.” — New York Times Book Review on The Grass Dancer
“Stunning…Power steeps us in the traditions and culture of contemporary Indian life.” — San Francisco Chronicle on The Grass Dancer
“Every new book by Susan Power is cause for celebration. This vibrant work is no exception. Her vision is intact: vivid, telling, honest, and transcendent. Power is a treasure and a true artist.” — Luis Alberto Urrea, on Sacred Wilderness
author of Calling for a Blanket Dance Oscar Hokeah
Perfectly captures the internal roots of the Native experience. Through the lives of three Dakota women, we grapple with the emotional, psychological, and spiritual toll on Indigenous peoples enduring an often brutal system and, moreover, how strength, healing, and love reverberate down each passing generation to dispense hope and resiliency. I cannot more highly recommend Power’s newest masterpiece.”
author of The Evening Hero Marie Myung-Ok Lee
[A] heartstopper of a book that shines a light into the dark corners of America’s history. I wanted the generational journey I was taking with these unforgettable characters—and their dolls—to never end. Read it—and be healed.”
PEN/Hemingway award–winning author Oscar Hokeah
I cannot more highly recommend Power’s newest masterpiece.”
Kirkus Reviews
2023-06-08
A history of women described by way of their dolls.
For her latest novel, Power has chosen an unusual organizing principle: dolls. The book describes three generations of Dakhóta and Lakhóta women—girls, really—from most recent to least, and back again. Each girl had a beloved doll. In the 1960s, Sissy had Ethel, a Black Tiny Thumbelina doll. In the ‘30s, Lily had Mae, a used Shirley Temple doll. And at the beginning of the century, Cora had Winona, a traditional Dakota doll made from deer hide. Each doll seems to be inhabited by a spirit; each girl seems to hear her speak. Cora, and Lily after her, suffer at the Indian boarding schools they’re forced to attend, and while their dolls try to protect them, their powers are limited. Sissy, meanwhile, bears the brunt of her mother’s inherited trauma. Power’s book contains many evocative moments and even more lyrical passages, such as this one, where she describes the boarding school that Cora and Lily attend: “this strange place, which purposely unravels the fabric of its students to remake them into something they might not recognize.” But the premise of the book is saccharine. It might have worked better as a middle-grade title or a young adult novel. In the book’s last quarter, Sissy, now an adult writer who has changed her name to Jesse, tries to confront her own and her ancestors’ pasts. This is the only part of the novel that contains significant amounts of dialogue. Unfortunately, the dialogue is stilted and two-dimensional, and the book’s ending drags on—and on.
An occasionally moving book that’s been steeped a minute too long in sentimentality.
