Malintzin's Choices

By the time I read Malintzin’s Choices, I already knew that I was going to write a historical novel about the Spanish-Mexica war. I picked up the book not so much because I liked the cover or because I knew the author but because I knew I wanted to read a book about Malintzin. I’m glad I picked up Townsend’s book as it ended up being one of the best history books I have ever read. 

Considering my strong interest in the Spanish-Mexica war, I will be publishing the second installment in the Tenochtitlan Trilogy later this year and wrote my undergraduate history on the subject, I figure this type of praise may be easy to brush off. After all, nobody would be surprised to learn that a francophile enjoys macarons. But if I am going to be completely honest, I really didn’t know much about the Spanish-Mexica war (better known to the general public as the conquest of Mexico) prior to reading this book. 

The thing is, I thought I did. After all, I had learned about the event in my AP world history class as well as my intro to world history class at GWU. My knowledge of the conflict was admittedly shallow but I was quite familiar with the legend that Cortes was perceived as a returning god. The idea that Cortes could return the exact same year the god was fated to return, and that he even shared a similar complexion, was incredible to me and almost Shakespearian. As it turns out, this great coincidence is more fiction than fact and Townsend makes a convincing argument that Cortes, like the Spaniards before and after him, were not perceived as gods. Those interested in the particulars of this argument ought to read the book and can expect to learn a great deal by doing so.

In all honesty, I did not expect a book about a long-dead translator to delve so deeply into Mesoamerican theology or the politicization of history, but that’s part of what makes the book so great. It’s so much more than a biography–it’s a reflection on how we study the past and which narratives get prioritized. History books, the good ones at least, ought to challenge our assumptions and broaden our horizons, and I suspect Malintzin’s Choices has done that for a great many readers.

Townsend’s interests can be admittedly niche, I have yet to meet the layman who can expound at length upon the complex political alliances of central Mexico in the early 16th century, but even readers who do not have a strong interest in the Spanish-Mexica war will find much to enjoy in this book. Townsend’s prose is both engaging and insightful, investing her book with the type of energy and wit more typical of fiction than non-fiction. I strongly recommend the book to readers interested in women’s history, Amerindian history, or historiography, and I look forward to reading more of her work.

The Siege of Jadotville and the liberty offered by historical fiction

A few years ago, I came across a movie on Netflix called the Siege of Jadotville. I had never heard of Jadotville but I figured I would give it a watch since I like historical fiction. I’m glad I did as it ended up being a pretty entertaining movie and fairly informative also. Like many historical fiction works, the movie takes place in the mid 20th century. However, unlike most historical fiction works, the movie has little to do with WWII and, perhaps even more unusual, takes place in Central Africa.

The movie begins with Lumumba’s assassination, a scene that could have benefitted from some better editing, and then makes a hard pivot to a much calmer setting to give audiences some background information on the conflict. It quickly becomes clear the crisis in the Congo has garnered worldwide attention and the international community is determined to contain the violence. Containing the violence, however, is easier said than done as the Congo has become a proxy battleground in the Cold War. Terrified of what might happen if the shadowboxing of the Soviet Union and the United States escalates into a global conflagration, the UN makes the fateful decision to step in. 

At this point in history, the UN was about the same age as a pouty teenager, it had existed for a mere 16 years by the time Congolese civil war broke out, and had little in the way of real power. Nonetheless, advocates are hopeful the UN can help curb the violence and Ireland agrees to send a small contingent of peacekeepers to the DRC. It soon becomes clear, however, these peacekeepers have extremely little power to stop the wanton bloodshed that is engulfing the DRC and must content themselves with defending an isolated military compound in the countryside. Commander Quinlan thinks it unlikely his troops will see serious action in the DRC but errs on the side of caution and orders his men to undertake defensive preparations.

As it turns out, his caution proves prescient. International forces have attacked a rebel-held radio station over a hundred miles away, killing numerous in the process, and the powers that be are looking to retaliate. What better way than to attack the Jadotville compound, a military outpost defended only be peacekeepers armed with light weapons and little combat experience? What should be a romp, however, is complicated by Quinlan’s adept understanding of defensive warfare and the offensive forces suffer some humiliating setbacks in their attempt to siege Jadotville. The battle scenes are pretty gripping–according to the Telegraph, the actors underwent serious combat training to help make the battle sequences more believable–but the most powerful scene in the movie takes place far away from the battlefield.

Dag Hammarskjöld is not a name known to many, even IR students could be forgiven for not knowing him, but this long-ago Secretary-General was determined to make the UN a serious player on the world stage. So determined was he to do this that he put his own life on the line to increase the power and prestige of the UN. During the height of the Congo Crisis, Dag Hammarskjöld took the bold step of traveling to the DRC to help restore peace. Unfortunately, his decision proved to be a fatal mistake, and his plane crashed outside of Ndola.

As someone who has long been interested in the history of the UN, I knew about Dag’s Hammarskjöld’s plane crash before I watched The Siege of Jadotville. Nonetheless, I always figured it was some kind of tragic accident because non-fiction accounts never suggested any type of foul play. The Siege of Jadotville, however, takes a different tack and suggests that Congolese rebels shot down the plane. To some, this may come off as irresponsible. After all, when the movie came out, there was little hard evidence to prove that Dag Hammarskjöld was deliberately shot down, though I wouldn’t be surprised if a great many in Dag Hammarskjöld’s inner circle suspected it.

In any case, I personally don’t think historical fiction needs to only stick to what we know for certain. After all, there is precious little we can know for certain in history–we know that Caesar traveled to Egypt to take Pompeii into custody but we can’t know if his hands shook when he learned Pompeii had been killed or if tears came to his eyes–and good historical fiction, in my opinion, should relate more than what we know for certain. It should also relate what’s plausible, so long as it doesn’t conflict with what we know for certain, and I think the airplane scene does a great job of making audiences think about the circumstances regarding Dag Hammarskjöld’s death. Perhaps because of the renewed interest in the Congolese civil war, Dag Hammarskjöld has attracted more attention of late and investigators recently revealed they had discovered credible proof that Dag Hammarskjöld’s plane was deliberately shot down. If this is not a vindication of the the airplane scene of The Siege of Jadotville, it is hard to know is.

Nonetheless, I completely understand that some people may find the movie interesting for reasons other than a two minute scene. Based upon what I have read about the Siege of Jadotville, something I can safely say I would have never looked into were it not for the movie, I think the movie could have done a better job of communicating Quinlan’s prowess as a military commander, but I think the movie deserves high marks all the same. I recommend it to anyone interested in UN history, Congolese history, or anyone interested in a straightforward battle flick. 

Pocahontas, Whitewashing, and Playing the Long Game

I have not seen the movie Pocahontas since I was a small kid. Truth be told, I don’t remember that much of the movie. I remember that the English looked very Spanish in the movie, what with their glittering armor and their Morion helmets, and I remember that Pocahontas sings something about the color of the wind or something like that. If I remember correctly, there was also a raccoon that was supposed to be pretty important to the story. Were I to rewatch the movie today, I doubt I would enjoy it much.

Truth be told, there are a variety of reasons why. Part of the reason is I’m not that into musicals–the suspension of disbelief is usually too much for me. Part of the reason is I missed out on the chance to see the Matrix in theaters because I had to stay home to watch Pocahontas with my younger brother. As someone who really enjoys film and philosophy, I am still aggrieved that I missed out on the chance to see the first Matrix on the silver screen. But if I am going to be completely honest, what really bothers me about the movie Pocahontas is the lack of respect for the history and the people involved in the story.

I understand, of course, that Pocahontas is intended for a young audience and that young kids aren’t necessarily interested in a historically accurate tale. Nonetheless, I still find it disturbing that Disney took so many creative licenses with the historical facts related to the Jamestown colony and disagree with the idea that historical fiction ought to be sanitized if it’s intended for a young audience. For proof why this is not the case, I would urge readers to pick up Blood on the River.

Blood on the River was required reading in my elementary school and my first introduction to historical fiction. The book is very much intended for a young audience but I suspect if I were to re-read it today, I would still enjoy the book. Told through the eyes of a young orphan forced to join the Virginia Company, the story does a great job of capturing the wonder, confusion, and fear a young boy may have experienced upon arriving in 17th century Jamestown.

Well-known historical figures like Pocahontas and James Smith both make appearances in the novel, but unlike Disney’s Pocahontas, Elise Carbone never tries to suggest the two had any kind of romantic relationship. Moreover, Carbone does not try to elide the fact that Pocahontas was pretty young when she met the English, likely 12 or so, and her decision to stay true to the established facts should be commended.

As almost anyone familiar with the history of Jamestown knows, it has a pretty sordid history. The colonists who founded Jamestown brought little in the way of practical skills, but they did bring plenty of gold-mining equipment, and knew next to nothing of living conditions in the Chesapeake region. Some of the people who were most knowledgeable, the Powhatans for example, did share information and resources on occasion, but the English had a bad habit of attacking Powhatan settlements which kind of put a damper on peaceable cross-cultural interactions. Owing in part to their inability to forge a positive, working relationship with their indigenous neighbors, and their profound ignorance of agriculture, the colonists often went weeks without food. These food shortages were often times severe, so much so that more than half of the colonists died during the Starving Time, and drove many of the Christian settlers to cannibalism.

Genocide and famine don’t exactly make for light reading, but I think Carbone does a good job of alluding to these events in a way that won’t be off-putting for young readers. Moreover, I think the way the protagonist, a real-life historical figure who went by the name of Samuel Collier, deals with these crises make for compelling reading. At one point in the book, the protagonist has to decide whether he will kidnap a baby from his mother to save the child from coming famine or if he will leave the baby with a mother who insists the Jamestown food shortage is no serious matter. The choice that Collier makes sticks with me to this day and gives the book an emotional depth unmatched by the Pocahontas movie.

In all fairness, Disney is in the money-making business, not the telling historical-stories-accurately business. Nonetheless, it’s worth noting that Blood on the River was a big success with readers. The book has over 4,000 ratings on Amazon and averages 3.99 stars which is pretty good by most metrics. Moreover, it’s also a top-seller in multiple Amazon categories which is impressive considering the book was released only 12 years ago. I’m sure Pocahontas helped Disney bring in tons of money, but I suspect the movie will fade from the cultural lexicon in the years to come and will hurt Disney’s brand in the long-run. Whitewashed historical fiction just isn’t as popular as it used to be and fans have increasingly high standards when it comes to historical fiction. Owing to Carbone’s respect for history and people involved in the Jamestown colony, I suspect Blood on the River will continue to rack up many positive ratings and will continue to be read by young students all across the country.

Cortes enters Tenochtitlan

This excerpt comes from The Bend of the River, the sequel to The Serpent and the Eagle. At this point in the campaign, Hernando Cortes has already won many important victories over the local forces and has forged key alliances with aggrieved Mexica vassals. For the sake of context, it is also worth mentioning that Mexica people are often referred to as Aztec today and that Doña Marina is better known as La Malinche today.

Cortes stared over the edge of the stone causeway. Built a lance above the water’s surface, he doubted a fall would hurt all that much. Nonetheless, he suspected a tumble would be fatal since his heavy armor would ensure he sank to the bottom of the murky lake. He shuddered. What kind of people would  build a city in the middle of a lake?

Whatever their reason, the Mexica were obviously blessed with gifted architects. The stone causeway would put the Romans to shame, one section of it stretched for almost two leagues, and not one corner of the city touched dry land. He took a deep breath. By mid-morning, he would be entering the floating city with his army.  

And when we leave the city, we will possess an incredible fortune. He shaded his eyes to study the army’s formation. Footsoldiers made up the bulk of his army, and the various contingents were separated by a single row of eight horsemen riding abreast of one another. It had taken half an hour to assemble his men in the proper arrangement and, had it been necessary, he would have spent half the morning organizing them. 

He wondered what Motecuhzoma, Great Speaker of the Mexica nation and undisputed leader of the Triple Alliance, felt when he looked upon Cortes’ army. Hopefully fear. The Great Speaker also had an eye for pomp and flair so the careful organization was probably not lost on him. Motecuhzoma perhaps had too much interest in such matters—Cortes and his men had been standing on the causeway for almost an hour now because they were being treated to an extended dirt-kissing ceremony. Cortes’ mare pawed the ground, and he dismounted so he could rub Arriero’s neck and whisper comforting words.

Whether it was the heat or the waiting that bothered Arriero, he did not know. Doña Marina did not seem bothered by either, and her remarkable composure was just another reminder of her impressive strength. He reached out to squeeze her hand, but a quick glance from her made him think better of it. 

“Do you remember what I told you?” she asked. “About the way Motecuhzoma will speak?”

He nodded. “Yes, yes. In opposites, I remember.”

“Not with everything but with much. If he says he has greatest respect for you, he has little respect for you. If he insults himself, it is to show you his greatness. 

He smiled. “Our nobles employ quite a bit of false flattery, too. Usually have to bring out some wine to get some honesty.”

Doña Marina furrowed her brow and said, “He could use many honorific titles to address you, but he would do same with any visitor. The praise is hollow so do not think much of it.”

Cortes nodded. “Thank you for the explanation. I am in your debt.”

She looked at him askance. “Are you in Aguilar debt, too?”

Cortes turned away from her. He did not want to explain again that Aguilar had to be included even though she was a better translator. There were some aspects of Spanish culture she would never understand. 

Up ahead, a series of conch shells blared in unison. He clambered onto his mount for a better view and was delighted to see that the army was finally moving again. As the rearguard trudged forward, he realized the stone causeway often gave way to removable wooden sections. If the Indians removed the wooden planks, his army would be unable to escape the city on foot. 

He cast his gaze toward the island of Tenochtitlan. Connected to the mainland by three different causeways, he wondered if all of them were built with the removable sections. Intuition told him yes, but he had every confidence he could compel the Mexica to repair the causeways if need be. Even the proudest of warriors could be forced to grovel and beg if their families and their homes were threatened.

Still, it would be wise to have a contingency plan. What with the army’s experience in Tlaxcala, he understood quite well that some Indians had more tolerance for suffering than others. He glanced at some of the canoes floating nearby. Some were so large they could accommodate dozens and some were so small they could only carry one person, but all of them sat low in the water. The lake seemed shallow in most places, many of the boatmen plied the placid surface not with paddles but with long poles, but he doubted it would be possible to walk or even swim to shore from Tenochtitlan. We will need to build shallow-draft ships.

He pursed his lips. Judging by the sheer size of the city, tens of thousands lived inside Tenochtitlan and he was sure he could find some ship-building supplies at one of their markets. It would take a few weeks to build ships of the proper size, cordage and sails would have to be sent from Vera Cruz, but that would be more than enough time to convince the Indians to accept him as their lord. 

Cortes straightened his back. He had never entered such a large city before and figured the city had a bigger population than Seville or Granada. He knew for a certainty, however, that even the highest castle towers in his hometown could not match the height of the stucco-covered pyramids or the blocky palaces of Tenochtitlan. How could a place this beautiful stay hidden for so long?

The causeway soon gave way to a very wide and very beautiful avenue, and flat-roofed houses, crafted from a combination of pale adobe and dark stone, now flanked him on every side. Curious onlookers studied his army from behind ledges and half-open windows, but they offered no kind words of welcome. Nor for that matter did they jeer. For the most part, they were silent besides the occasional whisper. If the Mexica intended to ambush his army, it was very likely a signaler was hidden amongst the onlookers. He squinted to study each face. No warmth in any of those stoic expressions. So why are they letting us enter their city and meet with their sovereign?

The army ground to a halt, and the vanguard stopped in front of a large group of Indians. Cortes tensed and dropped his hand to his sword hilt. If the Mexica meant to ambush his army, the soldiers would make sure they paid dearly for the mistake. Not one crossbow needed to be loaded and not one gunpowder weapon needed priming; Cortes had every hope his army would be peaceably received but that was no excuse to shirk battle preparations. 

The loud bang of a drum prompted him to turn around. A litter-bearing delegation was approaching his army from the rear. He turned his horse around and ordered the rest of the rearguard to do the same. He kept his hand on the hilt of his sword and watched as a group of attendants, dressed in splendid cotton robes that melded colors of varying hues, swept the avenue with long, bushy brooms.

Much as their colorful robes demanded attention, it was the jade-studded litter that truly captivated him. Coated in silver and gold, it was festooned with feathers as long as his forearm and wreaths woven entirely from flowers. The attendants carrying the litter stopped twenty paces away and lowered it to the ground with a practiced grace. 

Cortes dismounted from his horse and gestured to his translators. Today, Doña Marina and Aguilar would be more valuable to him than his guards. He handed the reins of his horse to a nearby servant just as a man stepped out of the litter.

Taller than him by half a hand, the man had a well-defined midsection and thighs the size of tree trunks. Besides the small wrinkles around his eyes, few of his features betrayed age. His thin beard, trimmed short, contained no gray hairs and if there were any on his scalp, they were completely hidden by his massive, green-feathered headdress.

While he could not tell if there were gray hairs on his scalp, Cortes was confident the man carried no weapon. His finely embroidered loincloth seemed ill-suited for such a task and he wore no other article of clothing, save a shoulder-draped robe and some thick sandals.

What he lacked in clothing, however, he made up in piercings. Plugs the size of plum pits dangled from both his ear lobes, and a brilliant gold labret hung from his lower lip. The man strode toward him, utterly sure of his power and his wealth. Cortes’ heart skipped a beat. The man in front of him could only be Motecuhzoma.

The Difficulty of Artsy Dialogue and Real Life Antagonists: A Review of the Deadwood movie

I first developed a strong interest in historical fiction during college and made a point to watch every historical series I could find. Some never clicked with me—never got into Frontier or The Tudors—but I enjoyed Deadwood a lot. And while some shows take quite awhile to get good—looking at you, Serenity—I enjoyed Deadwood from the very first episode. Years have passed since I first watched the episode but I can still remember the shootout that ended the episode. Having enjoyed the first episode immensely, I went on to watch every episode in the series. I developed a deep interest in characters like Al Swearengen—by no means a sympathetic character when we first meet him—so I was excited to hear HBO would be releasing a Deadwood movie. I figured the movie would be a way to add some closure to the series–the show got canned in its third season, despite being envisioned as a five season series–and would be a fun way to check in with the characters. Having had many weeks to mull the movie over, I have to admit that I did not enjoy it.

From a stage production standpoint, there’s nothing wrong with the movie. The costumes are great and the performances are stellar. The writing, however, left a bit to be desired. Just to be clear, I don’t think David Milch is a bad writer. If that were the case, I never would have finished the Deadwood show. However, I do think the Deadwood movie had some dialogue issues and some plotting issues.

The dialogue was never the main reason I liked the show, but it never something that bothered me either. Truth be told, I enjoyed many of the era-specific turns of phrase and I suspect the same holds true for many other viewers. Maybe those same viewers liked that so much of the dialogue in the Deadwood movie was written in iambic pentameter, but I can’t say I enjoyed it. To me, it felt forced and artificial which, ultimately, made it difficult for me to invest in the dialogue. In any case, it wasn’t just the dialogue which rubbed me wrong and I also took issue with the plotting.

For the most part, the plot of the Deadwood movie revolves around George Hearst’s return to the town of Deadwood. George Hearst is a real-life historical figure and, like the show suggests, was very involved in the mining business. However, Hearst did not die while in South Dakota, nor did he ever come to any serious harm while there, which meant Milch had one of two options: he could either completely ignore the historical record or he could make sure Hearst survived his trip to Deadwood. Ultimately, Milch decided on the latter. Why he did so is not a question I can not answer but I think it created some narrative problems for the movie since Milch also chose to insert him into some very trying situations.

The best example of this may be when Bullock, the sheriff of Deadwood, discovers that Hearst ordered the killing of his friend. Putting aside the contrived nature of the killing, it really felt like Milch just wanted to make sure that Bullock and Hearst butt heads during the movie, Bullock’s reaction doesn’t make that much sense. Rather than putting the hired gun in a cell, or getting his confession in writing, Bullock hauls the hired gun before Hearst and his well-armed goons. He then tortures the hired gun, in front of Hearst and all his men, to make him confess the details of his perfidy. Sure that a confession would implicate their benefactor, a Hearst loyalist shoots the man before he can admit to anything incriminating and Bullock loses his best witness. The sequence is frustrating, and more than a little predictable, but it had to be included because Milch was determined to give Hearst a way out. This “need” to make sure Hearst never comes to any serious harm means many of the characters have to make decisions that don’t make sense and I think it ultimately hurt the plot.

I’m sure there are many viewers who disagree with my take. After all, critics from Boston Globe and CNN gave the movie stellar reviews and the audience score, according to Rotten Tomatoes, stands at 97%. It is entirely possible I am being too harsh and might enjoy the movie better once I have had more time to mull it over. As of right now, I am in no rush to rewatch the movie and have to admit that I am disappointed the Deadwood series will end on such a weak note.

Pause what you’re doing and read Panther in the Sky

In honor of Indigenous People’s Day, I feel I should write about James Alexander Thom’s Panther in the Sky. As far as I can remember, this was one of the first books I ever read that was told primarily from the perspective of indigenous characters and remains, to this day, one of the best books I have ever read. Prior to read this book, I knew next to nothing about Tecumseh. His name was vaguely familiar to me, my father had tons of books about Tecumseh all about the house, but I don’t remember learning much about him in my history classes. I suspect I am not alone in this regard and that’s a shame because Tecumseh is a fascinating historical figure and James Alexander Thom does a great job bringing him to life in Panther in the Sky.

It is worth noting that Tecumseh was an enemy of the United States government. It would be wrong, however, to equate him with the likes of Emperor Hirohito. Whereas Emperor Hirohito was an enemy of the US for launching a sneak attack on Pearl Harbor, Tecumseh was an enemy of the United States government because he sought to protect his homeland from a US invasion. America is an exceptional country in many regards but we are not an exceptional country in how we gained territory—like pretty much every other country in the world, we invaded neighboring nations, killed the military leaders who opposed us, and then defended the land from anyone who tried to take it from. Might is right has been the governing philosophy of nations for millenia, it really only stopped being the international norm this past century, and such thinking played a key role in the westward expansion of the United States during the 19th century.

The Shawnee nation, like many of the other indigenous nations, could not compete with the United States military. Tecumseh understood this well, as did many of his contemporaries. Nonetheless, Tecumseh was not the surrendering type and came up with a rather simple solution to this vexing problem: he would make the Shawnee nation more powerful by allying with other indigenous nations. But whereas others might have been content to ally with one or two other nations, Tecumseh had something much bigger in mind and sought to create a confederacy that would draw in every indigenous nation that stood to lose territory to the United States. It is hard to overstate just how revolutionary an idea this was. Many of the nations that Tecumseh sought to draw into his confederacy had been at war for generations, centuries in some cases. While the concept of pan-Indianism is fairly entrenched in the modern political ethos, it had few proponents in the early 1800s and Tecumseh was very much for unique for putting credence in a pan-indigenous identity.

In some respects, he might have been better off had been less unique in his thinking. Prominent spokespersons found his thinking alien and rejected his overtures of friendship–the best example of this may be when Tecumseh travels south to recruit allies and basically gets told to get lost by a very eloquent tribal leader. Nonetheless, Tecumseh was still able to cobble together a fairly strong military coalition by 1811 and ended up attracting some unwanted attention from the US military. He did not, however, believe in rushing into war and insisted upon waiting for the opportune time to strike, much to the chagrin of some bellicose followers. The insistence upon waiting, however, ended up being a smart gamble. War broke out between the British and the US in 1812 and Tecumseh capitalized on the chaos by attacking key military strongholds, often times with the support of the British. In doing so, he wrested control of Fort Detroit from American forces, despite being outnumbered by the defending force, and embarrassed the US military so thoroughly that General Hull, former commander of Fort Detroit and veteran of the Revolutionary War, was forced to go before a court martial to explain his humiliating defeat.

Unfortunately for Tecumseh, Hull’s successor ended up being much more competent. William Henry Harrison may not command much name recognition today—try to name an American general in the War of 1812 other than Andrew Jackson—but he was an undeniably talented general. Those talents availed him greatly in his battles against Tecumseh and he eventually triumphed over him in the Battle of the Thames. As readers of the afterward know, Harrison’s military triumphs eventually paved the way for his Presidential run and for a few precious hours, he held the most powerful position in all of American history. Why such a short period of time? Well, as Thom notes, Harrison was never the type to use one sentence when two would do and ended up contracting pneumonia during his marathon inauguration speech.

Considering the rich history that made up Tecumseh’s life, it’s a wonder more historical novels have not been written about him. Alas, the failure of other writers to mine this rich vein is James Alexander Thom’s benefit as Panther in the Sky will probably be the authoritative novel on his life for many years to come. Thom’s novel is rather exhaustive, it follows Tecumseh’s life from his birth to his death, but it was never a slog to read as Thom does such a great job of fleshing out the characters. Tecumseh’s friendship with Brock, Tecumseh’s various shenanigans as a child, Tecumseh’s conflict with his brother are still vivid in my memory, despite not having picked up the book in almost half a decade. I think it is important to note, however, that Tecumseh is not the only narrator in the story. Many sections are told from the perspective of other characters, though the vast majority are told from Tecumseh’s perspective, but I can’t think of any POV I found boring. Considering how long the book is and how many different characters are included in the book, this is quite the accomplishment. This is not the first James Alexander Thom book I have read, my first was Follow the River, but Panther in the Sky is a great introduction to do his work and fits in well with the larger body of his work. Those who have already read novels like The Long Knives will find some of the events or mentions familiar, but there is no reason this should be a deterrent to reading Panther in the Sky. If anything, it’s more of a reason to read the book as fans will get the chance to experience events through a different perspective. I highly recommend this book to anyone interested in Amerindian history, American history, or biographical novels.