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What's It About? |
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When her mother is unable to care for her, Alice is removed from her home on the reservation and placed with a white foster family in the suburbs. In this new and alien world, Alice is taken from everything she's ever known and must make her journey between two cultures.
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Who's Talking About It? |
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"Nora Pierce will write many great books that will sell increasing numbers of copies. Trust me on this. She's gonna be a Wonder Woman."--Sherman Alexie, author of The Toughest Indian in the World
“The Insufficiency of Maps is an engaging, profound, and illuminating story. Enormous accomplishments."--John L'Heureux, former editor of The Atlantic Monthly
"Nora Pierce's debut novel, The Insufficiency of Maps, explores the textures and mysteries of the fundamental human experiences--love, dependence, marginality, madness--in a poetic style which does not seek to simply explicate those textures and mysteries, but embodies them."--Janet Fitch, author of White Oleander
“Nora Pierce is a powerful, honest writer.”--Jervy Tervalon, author of Dead Above Ground and Lita
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Who's Going to Read It? |
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Readers interested in modern Native American culture will find The Insufficiency of Maps an intriguing read. Other themes include foster care, mental health, suburbia, and mother-daughter relationships.
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From The Insufficiency of Maps: |
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We've been walking all day to catch this bus. We came from a place far away, mostly walking, and the world around us changed from pale gray and wet to red and dry. I can't remember where we were before we started walking, except that it was so bright and bugs made loud sounds and we slept outside and counted the stars. We drew pictures in the mud of how we would rearrange them if we could. It is this lost place I am dreaming about, leaning against Mami's shoulder when the driver wakes us.
"It's the end of the line," he says. "Where exactly are you trying to get?" Mami digs out a postcard, hands it over to him.
"Lenny's? On route nine? That's all the way at the other end of the line. On the number four bus."
Mami stands, gathers our shopping bags and says, "Transfer, please."
He shakes his head. "You can't transfer to anything out here."
She stares at him while the empty bus exhales black fumes. No one moves but me. I lean into Mami's hips and watch the smoke rings rise outside the window. "All right," he says finally. "Just stay on the bus."
When we do get off, it's late at night. The driver steps off the bus to point us in the right direction, and we start up the dirt road.
"Where are we going?" I ask.
"To the reservation to see your father," Mami says.
"When are we going to get there?"
"Don't know, angel."
"Are we going to have happy dream come true?"
"Yes," Mami says. "Happy dream come true."
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