The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian

Alexie, Sherman with Forney, Ellen. The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian. New York: Little Brown & Company, 2007

A National Book Award Winner and a New York Times Bestseller, The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian is as funky as its title promises. Illustrated with always-delightful, sometimes sardonic cartoons of Ellen Forney, it traces a year in the life of a Washington State indigenous high school person who chooses to go to a school off-reserve, hence the “Part-time Indian.” Although the reservations in the USA and the reserves in Canada and the people who live in each are not identical by any means, Part-time Indian will resonate with readers north of the border, especially with both indigenous and settler persons living in what we used to call “The Kamsack Situation,” a case of sometimes-troubled interaction between a settler town and an adjacent reserve.

Arnold Spirit (Junior) “is a budding cartoonist growing up on the Spokane Indian Reservation. Born with a variety of medical problems, he is picked on by everyone but his best friend, leaves the rez to attend an all-white school in the neighboring farm town where the only other Indian is the school mascot. Despite being condemned as a traitor to his people and enduring great tragedies, Junior attacks life with wit and humor and discovers a strength inside of himself that he never knew existed (Book cover blurb).”

Part-time Indian will probably be found in the Juvenile Fiction section in most libraries, and certainly the vocabulary, the straightforward simplicity of the plot suggest a juvenile audience. But in this age of reconsidering residential schools and Truth and Reconciliation in Canada particularly, I would caution that the novel could reinforce stereotypes rather than clarify; it lacks the historic background that’s badly needed to help us understand why an indigenous author in a juvenile fiction would write:

“Gordy gave me this book by a Russian dude named Tolstoy, who wrote: ‘Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.’ Well I hate to argue with a Russian genius, but Tolstoy didn’t know Indians. And he didn’t know that all Indian families are unhappy for the same exact reason: the fricking booze.”

Fictional Arnold has good reason to be bitter, particularly after a succession of tragedies—all involving alcohol—beset his family. It’s a repeated motif: having scarcely enough money for mounting a celebratory Christmas, his father takes it all and goes on a ten day binge. Get drunk, do something stupid or tragic, repent sorrowfully, repeat, repeat.

It was probably in the sixties/seventies that we began to talk about alcoholism as an illness. That “epiphany” probably opened the door to better addiction treatment, but it didn’t simplify much except that the diagnosis was now obvious. Illness implies a cause and an effect, and in the case of the high level of alcoholism on reserves, it’s the grappling with the germ, the virus, the cause that needs consideration. Illness, after all, also cries for remedy; remedy, to be successful, addresses the cause, not just the symptoms. Part-time Indian doesn’t address this; as a work of art—and not a piece of propaganda or medical analysis—it probably shouldn’t. But if it were to lead young readers to a greater understanding that Arnold’s dilemma has precursors, it might well work to contribute to the search for ways to tackle causes.

In Canada, that search is called Truth and Reconciliation.

Part-time Indian introduces readers to the concept of the apple-indian, i.e. “red on the outside, white on the inside.” People who are born into and live their lives in a majority culture can never fully comprehend this aspect of visible-minority life. African-Americans have their oreo cookies; the tensions on both sides of such an “are you in or are you out” reality are central to Part-time Indian, and the Discussion Guide appended to the novel should help in introducing the implications of this vital divide to readers. In Arnold Spirit’s world, pursuing aspirations for achievement rests completely on risking the “traitor” label and its consequences.

Rowdy is the nickname of Arnold’s doppelganger, a childhood friend who remains in school on the reservation and personifies the red exterior of the “apple,” what Arnold might have been. Their love/hate, off/on relationship is beautifully captured in a one-on-one basketball encounter that goes on for hours—without keeping score.

Those of us who spend appreciable amounts of time reading do so for various reasons. If the primary purpose is diversion, amusement, then a novel's possible insights into our personal realities may not even register. For others, the search for “truth” may well include the study of fiction for clues and insights. Writer Tim O’Brien has put it like this: “Fiction is the lie [invention, story] that helps us understand the truth.”  

The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian, scores on both counts; I was diverted, amused, and what insights I felt I already had into the part-time Indian issue were sharpened, given a new slant.

Stars seem inappropriate since their assigning implies a comparison to other novels. The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian is unique; comparisons are therefor meaningless. Suffice it to say that I read all of it; I don’t stick with published material that lacks quality—in my biased, snooty, English-teacher opinion, that is.