Louise Erdrich gets better and better. Here, proving she can manage contemporary politics and ghost stories, she delights again..
Thank you for the opportunity to read.

I’m afraid this book just wasn’t for me. I gave up and came back to it several times, but I found the whole narrative too chaotic to be able to get any kind of grasp on the storyline. Granted, the prose is beautiful in parts, but even this was not enough to hold my attention. There was so much disconnect that I finished the book not really understanding what I’d just read. I’m not normally afraid of writing that challenges, but this was a step to far even for me. And I’m not sure I’m comfortable being made to feel this way.

This is the first Erdrich novel I've ever read and it definitely won't be the last; "The Sentence" is timely and offers sharp commentary on matters that are still present on everyday discourse.

This book had heaps of potential but was mostly a rambling and at times incoherent whistlestop tour through real life events in 2020 with a ghost in a bookstore and some book recommendations thrown in for good measure. While there are flashes of brilliance in the writing (the author is a Pulitzer Prize winning novelist), these moments are too few and far between. I didn’t enjoy it.

The book opens with Tookie, an indigenous American woman receiving a hefty custodial sentence for her role in the theft of a corpse. After her release, she settles down and makes a home with ex cop Pollux and gets a job in a bookstore specialising in Native American literature.

At this point the book loses its way, with Flora’s ghost taking prominence, followed by covid, and then finally George Floyd’s death. The light whimsical touch given to the ghost storyline is also given to the heavier topics and at times, the narrative reads more like the author’s 2020 journal, such are the mundanities of life documented.

Safe to say this was not my cup of tea at all. Magical realism hardly ever works for me and I hated it in this book. I found it extremely tedious and only for my own stubbornness I would have (and probably should have) abandoned this book after the first fifty or so pages. 2/5 ⭐️

*Many thanks to @netgalley, the author and the publishers for an advance digital copy of this book. As always, this is an honest review.*

Wow! There is so much to say about this genre-busting, multi-layered incredible book!

Opening with a crazy crime caper with profound consequences for protagonist, Tookie, which grabbed me like a hook in a fish and refused to let me go as I thrashed my way through this book. This quirky opening is swiftly followed by a deft change of pace to a bookstore and Tookie begins to be haunted by the ghost of regular customer, Flora and so unravels a story of love, redemption and healing against the backdrop of quest for identity, family and community relationships, the Covid pandemic and the racist clashes following the murder of George Floyd.

Yep, this book really does take you on a journey! Intelligently written and beautifully authentic, I immersed myself in the characters and narrative of this book which explores Native American history, identity and the experience of indigenous people balancing their tradition, culture in a 21st century dominant white American land.

This book traces through themes of nature, land, death, forgiveness and cultural appropriation. Yet, these huge themes are deftly written in a prose interspersed with humour, surprises, and love. This book is a triumph and so timely as we emerge from the damage of the last two years and understand their context in the sentence carried out over centuries.

With thanks to NetGalley and the publisher for this digital ARC in exchange for this honest review.

This is perhaps one of the least categorisable books I've ever read. But it's about books and love, so I'm all in. I stopped to note down titles multiple times throughout, and then there was an actual reading list at the end. Heart eyes for days.

What first drew me into The Sentence, the latest novel by Pulitzer-Prize-winner Louise Erdrich, was the witty, streetwise voice of Tookie, the Ojibwe protagonist and main narrator. We learn that Tookie spent time in prison, after a tragi-comic mishap that saw her transport the body of her dead lover over state lines with, unbeknownst to her, a stash of drags stuck under his armpits. In prison, she discovers books and learns to love them and once discharged, marries Pollux, the tribal cop who arrested her, and lands a job at an Indigenous bookstore in Minneapolis, Minnesota. All seems great, except that the bookshop – and Tookie in particular – is haunted by the ghost of Flora who, in her lifetime, was a quasi-obsessive customer of the store. Flora was a white woman with a keen interest in Indigenous culture, who made it her life project to prove her Indian antecedents. Pretty soon, the terrors of a ghostly visitant are replaced (or rather, accompanied) by more immediate horrors – the onset of the Covid pandemic, the murder of George Floyd by police officer Derek Chauvin, the ensuing incendiary riots and, in the final pages, the divisive Presidential election of 2020. All this takes its toll on Tookie and her complex relationship with Pollux.

The supernatural is a key element of The Sentence. A haunting lies at its heart, Pollux is described as a performer of Indian ceremonial rituals, and there’s even a sub-plot involving a Rugaroo, the French-Canadian/Indian equivalent of a werewolf (or loup-garou). Yet, despite my love for horror and the Gothic, this is the aspect of The Sentence which least engaged me. Indeed, after my initial enthusiasm for the novel, life (and other books) got in the way, and I found it quite hard to return to it. My interest was piqued again when I got to the more topical “state of the nation” parts. Erdrich is herself an Ojibwe from her mother’s side, and is the owner of Birchbark Books, a bookstore and showcase for Native culture in Minneapolis. Unsurprisingly, the descriptions of the daily operations of the fictional bookshop, the impact of the pandemic and the BLM protests have an authentic and edgy feel to them. I also felt that the introduction of Hetta, Tookie’s stepdaughter, and her baby son Jarvis, gave the novel a more personal, intimate feel which it lacked in its first part.

The Sentence is, perhaps, too ambitious. It tries to be too many things at once – a comic crime caper to start with; then a work of supernatural fiction; finally, a topical family drama. Despite my reservations it is, however, a work I would recommend. Ultimately, The Sentence, is a paean to books. Books help us to understand the world; they serve as a bridge to “the other”, and often act as “life support”. No wonder that the novel ends with a “totally biased list” of “Tookie’s” favourite books. Are they, perhaps, the authors’ favourites too?

https://endsoftheword.blogspot.com/2022/02/The-Sentence-by-Louise-Erdrich.html

We meet Tookie as a young woman in prison, having committed a foolish crime and been sentenced to a long jail term. Luckily, Tookie’s sentence gets commuted and she rejoins her community in Minneapolis, working in a small independent bookshop and dealing with a raft of weird and wonderful customers. When one of the more frustrating customers, Flora, passes away – somewhat mysteriously – Tookie believes that Flora’s spirit is still present at the bookshop leading her on a mission to rid herself of Flora’s ghost. What follows, however, is so much more than a ghost story. Tookie’s subsequent journey, which seed her dealing with her past, her husband, her adopted daughter, her Indigenous community, and more, is astonishing and poignant and beautiful, and I loved every second.

The story, written in real time, suddenly changes with the appearance of COVID-19, and then again with the anti-police brutality protests following the death of George Floyd. However, this is entirely reflective of the situation in which the world found themselves at this time, so fits perfectly with Tookie’s own story, which must continue despite the strange and uncertain circumstances into which she has been thrown.

Each and every character was so well-drawn, and felt incredibly authentic. The details in the story were exquisite, and the relationships between the characters rang very true. I loved this book and can’t praise the author’s style enough. As a bonus, via Tookie’s book recommendations to her customers, I have also added another thirty or so titles to my “to be read” list!

My thanks to the author, NetGalley, and the publisher for the arc to review.

I know that I fell in love with a writer's work when I read an arc and buy a number of their books.
This is what happened with Louise Erdrich: I read the Sentence and bought 3 books.
I feel in love with her storytelling, style of writing, with the characters, and the plot that talks about very serious topics and it's full of humour at the same time.
There's ghost in this story but it's not a ghost story. It's the story of a year, November 2019 to November 2020, a year when a lot of things happened and changed our life.
It's moving, funny, riveting, and fascinating.
It's a great book.
Highly recommended.
Many thanks to the publisher and Netgalley for this ARC, all opinions are mine

Fabulous story telling ! By wrapping her tale into a timeless, multilayered ghost story (and love story) and populating it with characters who are vulnerable and painfully human, the living history that sits alongside it is even more charged and powerful.

The blurb describes this book as 'wickedly funny' - maybe I am having a sense of humour but this did not make me chuckle. It is a book of many parts and I did not warm to all of those parts.

The first section is about Tookie - an ex-con who works in a bookstore, she has a lovely husband who supports her and provides a link to the indigenous culture. I really enjoyed their characters and their story. Then things get slightly odd - Tookie is haunted in the bookstore by a customer, but this did fit with her character and background so I went with it.

Then the book takes on a whole new direction - pandemic, George Floyd and the ensuing marches and demonstrations. This felt like an unwelcome distraction, and began to feel like a lecture. I only carried on because I wanted to know what happened to Tookie and her family.

I did finish but I am mildly irritated rather than satisfied.

I loved Tookie, the prickly protagonist of The Sentence, who falls in love with books in jail and then when freed, finds joy in the books she works with at the Indigenous owned bookshop (owned by Louise, a writer, who is clearly Erdrich). But Flora, a Native American wannabe, and stalwart of the bookshop dies and haunts the shop, and most especially Tookie. And Tookie wants it to stop. This is one thread of the novel. There is also her relationship with ex-cop Pollux and his tricky daughter Hetta, and the wider world with both the beginning of the Covid pandemic and the brutal murder of George Floyd which floods the novel with politics and contemporary significance. The juxtaposition of the history Tookie has to uncover to understand the haunting, the cultural significance for Indigenous people of police brutality both past and present is brilliantly balanced. This is an impressive, intelligent and significant novel.

Thanks to Netgalley and the publisher for a free ARC of this book. I have chosen to write this honest review voluntarily.
I requested a copy of this book because of the information provided, describing a ghost story over a period of a year in a bookstore setting. The first 10% of the book is actually about Tookie performing and being imprisoned for a criminal act that is completely bizarre. I thought the written style was rambling with so many irrelevant details that I didn't feel as though I was reading a book at all. This is definitely not one for me and I wouldn't want to read anything else by this author.

Wow! There’s such a lot in this book and all of it brilliant!
Tookie, an Ojibwe woman, is an ex-con who now works in a bookshop and is haunted by the ghost of one of their difficult customers.
But it’s not just a ghost story!
It’s a story of love, family, friends and the power of books. There’s even a booklist at the end so I’ve added to my TBR list! The characters are well drawn and the storytelling is wonderful.
It tackles themes of racism, questions of identity and cultural appropriation. It feels so current - the politics of Trump America, Native American experience, BLM and the murder of George Floyd. And even the reality and effects of the Covid-19 pandemic is in here.
It’s a novel that makes you think - Louise Erdrich is such a powerful and necessary writer.
I loved this book - read it, everyone!
Many thanks to the publisher and NetGalley for the ARC. All views are my own.

Gosh what a fascinating and original book, the premise being that a ghost is haunting a local book shop. Coupled with real life events that shook the world, we are given plenty of things to think about relating to life and death.

I loved this book. What I loved most was that it’s this incredibly moving commentary on life and death, on what truly matters as well as the power of books and human connection. I found the setting intensified that commentary. Having so much of it set within the pandemic was an opportunity to process what we’ve been living through lately and that was pretty cathartic. It’s definitely not an easy read at times and does tackle a lot of big emotions. As such, this won’t be the book for everyone but it is one that I think will speak to a wide range of readers.

Aside from its real world applications, this is a really interesting story. There’s a ghost haunting a bookshop and causing all kinds of chaos for Tookie. It’s affecting her mentally, professionally and personally – causing conflict with those closest to her. And Tookie herself is quite possibly the most fascinating character I’ve ever read. She had a difficult childhood, made some mistakes, wound up in prison and then filled her life with love and books after she got out. As such, there are a lot of bookish things to love about The Sentence. A love of the written word and the way that books allow us to connect with other people is very much at the heart of it.

I really enjoyed this take on the happenings of 2020, told through the eyes of Tookie, a Native American.
This book was recommended to me by a death doula as comfort reading for a friend whose mum was losing the fight with cancer. It sounded so good I wanted to get a copy for myself as well and I’m really glad that I did.
The Sentence has at its centre the bookstore owned by the author, Birchback Books, it’s staff members, and it’s customers (both living and dead). The story is set primarily between November 2019 and November 2020 and the real life historical events of that time form the backdrop for much of the story; namely Covid and it’s ensuing isolation and the murder of George Floyd. If it’s too soon for you to visit these things in your fiction then this book isn’t for you.
Though The Sentence is a ghost story, the ghost aspect is almost matter of fact, and although evident throughout much of the book isn’t really central.
The central story looks at the treatment of Native Americans, their culture, their heritage and their beliefs. I found this story fascinating and frustrating.
The Sentence is a character driven novel who’s joy is in the quality of the writing

It isn’t often I give up on a book...but, for me, The Sentence joins my list.
I tried so hard, three times, each time reaching only half way before giving up... I love a book that challenges me, that makes me more determined...but this for me really was like a sentence, a punishment.
I found the writing style too jumbled and erratic, the language and the story in general. Even going back a few pages at times did not help, this book was just not working for me. Which as a reader is so disappointing, I love nothing less than praising the books I come across, but that is when the praise is heartfelt. This book did not grip me with the desperation of that ‘just one more chapter’ feeling...instead it felt more of a task to try to understand it... I’m sure, reading other reviews, that some readers found this an amazing book, but sadly this was not one of those for me. Maybe this is one of those books that has to be read when one is in a certain reading mood, but for me this is not now....maybe I’ll try it again at some point in the future, in a different frame of mind, and have a different view. I really don’t like giving negative feedback but there was nothing that I could relate to in the characters, or the plot, that thrilled me sufficiently to continue. Sorry.
Many thanks to NetGalley for giving me the opportunity to read, this is my unbiased review.

With thanks to the publisher and NetGalley for an advance review copy.

This is that rarity, a novel with big themes that is also a gripping read. Set in Minneapolis with a Native American narrator, it takes in cultural appropriation, social inequalities faced by ethnic minorities as represented by our narrator Tookie, fluidity in gender and mental health, and a persistent ghost, alongside the killing of George Floyd and the riots that ensued at the same time as the spread of the first wave of Covid.

There is a great deal to think about in this not hugely long book, and I found it needed time to properly assimilate all that was going on. It is all held together by Tookie, who, despite her assertion that 'I am an ugly woman... Nor am I beautiful on the inside', is a completely believable and engaging character. She inhabits a sometimes uneasy world which straddles a society of crass white people - who have taken Native American land and treat their customs and beliefs and even mortal remains as curiosities and souvenirs to appropriate - and the Native community within the city, quietly keeping tribal traditions and languages and beliefs and their sense of identity alive.

The first half or so of the story centres on Tookie's personal life. The sentence of the title has many resonances within the book, the first of which is the jail sentence she receives for transporting a corpse across county lines and unknowingly also transporting drugs, which greatly increases her jail term. The gift of a dictionary from her former English teacher keeps her sane, at least some of the time; her arresting officer Pollux of the Tribal Police and her 'alternate crush', quietly works behind the scenes to reduce her sentence, knowing she has been set up. On her release, she and Pollux marry and she is offered a job in her former English teacher's bookshop which specialises in Native literature (Birchbank Books, a real independent bookshop in Minneapolis owned by Louise Erdrich, the author). And this is where her haunting by a late customer begins - Flora, a white woman who became obsessed with Native American culture and died in bed while reading a handwritten journal by a Native woman. Her adopted daughter brings the book to Tookie, who becomes convinced that it 'contained a sentence that changed according to the reader's ability to decipher it and could somehow kill'. Working out how to exorcise Flora's ghost becomes the mission for all the bookshop staff. Tookie herself is hugely interesting - neglected as a child by a drug addict mother, with a sense of self that from time to time seems to dissolve, with a real name she has chosen to forget because it threatens her identity too much.

After this intensely personal first half, the transition to the broader events dealt with in the second part of the novel feels abrupt and less well balanced. Covid explodes in an unsuspecting world early in 2020; barely has it begun to be taken seriously and impinge on people's lives when, in May 2020, George Floyd is killed by a white police officer in an event that is filmed, beamed around the world, and sparks major unrest in the city as well as beyond.

The historical events are skilfully blended with the personal fictional lives - the police brutality and racism resonates with the Native American experience of oppression and Tookie and the other characters do not stand by uncounted. The killing of George Floyd is effectively presented as the result of systemic racism and white supremacy that goes back historically to slavery and the Native American genocide. Covid is almost an irrelevance in this context, although Erdrich does an excellent job of reminding us how frightening the early days were, when we knew so little about modes of transmission, epidemiology and prevention. And then it becomes personal for Tookie and for the reader, as the bigger historical context triggers a time of reckoning for her which takes us back into the realm of the personal once again.

I felt the swing from personal to social comment to personal again was somewhat disjointed and could have been balanced better. As it is, the big stuff almost felt like it was getting in the way of Tookie's story and the ghost story, though the threads that weave them together are drawn tighter from time to time. Nevertheless, this is a fine novel from an important author. Bonus points for being about words, and books, and sentences. And it's got a reading list at the end - not a bibliography or a reference list, but Tookie's recommendations as a bookseller. As a librarian who moonlights in the local community bookshop from time to time, I thought this was a brilliant touch.

This was the first ARC I've read in a while where as soon as I finished reading it, I had to message a friend to tell her to pre-order a copy because she would love it! I devoured The Sentence and almost didn't want it to end.

I was initially drawn to the story of a woman's ghost haunting a bookshop and so when the story starts several decades before present day with a young Tookie stealing a corpse in the back of a grocery truck, I was initially a bit bemused about where the story was going! What unfolds is a compelling narrative of a woman's search for her identity by way of a stint in prison, a job she loves in a bookshop and a global pandemic.

There was a winding exploration of various themes of cultural appropriation, Native American history and culture, racism, motherhood, the importance of independent bookshops and love/family relationships. The way that Erdrich wove into this ghost story the Covid pandemic and the murder of George Floyd and the following Black Lives Matter protests was skilfully done. One of the best, most emotionally charged scenes is when Tookie takes her desperately ill husband Pollux to hospital and has to stand helplessly the other side of the Emergency Room door, watching as a nurse wearing protective overalls from head to toe takes him away for treatment. The feelings that Tookie has were exactly the same that I experienced when my parents were both admitted to Intensive Care in January 2021 and I was taken straight there, living it again. The main story is that of a ghost story and the way we approach death and dying were other key themes, although in many ways the ghost story almost becomes secondary to this book - although a particular scene involving Flora's ghost attempting to enter Tookie's body was thrillingly ghoulish!

What was so interesting was the clear love of books that Erdrich has and was demonstrated through Tookie's interactions with customers and her choice of lockdown reading. There were so many book titles, lots I have heard of but never read and it was so pleasing to see a title that I'd read (when a Pulitzer prize winner says a book is good, it must be!). Extra points to whoever collated all the book titles and added a few more (such as Tookie's lockdown reading list) to the last few pages of the book, it was so helpful to go over them and my Goodreads list has been boosted...

Erdrich's use of language was stunning and there were several times I re-read a paragraph or a sentence just to enjoy the words used again!

This will be a book that I go out and buy a copy of when it's released, it's one that I will want to read again and definitely be adding to my book club's reading list. I'd love to see this book on the Women's Prize or Booker Prize lists this year.