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Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeoning of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years,
Finds, and shall find me, unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.

"Invictus" by William Ernest Henley

A terrible mistake. "The fell clutch of circumstance." Landreaux shoots young Dusty, the son of his friends Peter and Nola, instead of what he thought was a deer. In the Ojibwe tradition, which seems unfathomable to me, Landreaux and his wife Emmaline give Dusty's parents their son, LaRose. The grief, enormous, shatters like stained glass and the shards splice everyone in different ways.

Getting blown up happened in an instant; getting put together took the rest of your life.

The book takes us through this grief, and in doing this, tells us the stories of the families affected by Dusty's death, and how LaRose becomes a healing force. We learn about the five generations of LaRoses. We learn about Romeo, a friend of Landreaux from childhood, who has grown twisted with addiction and bitterness, and who is obsessed with revenge. And we glimpse the gorgeous magical spirituality of the Native Americans, those who can rise out of their bodies.

This is my first time reading Erdrich. Her writing is excellent; unsentimental, yet personal. She mixes the ancient with modern so seamlessly.

I found the book a little too long, though. I had to wade through the middle with determination because I knew it would be worth it in the end. And it was.