Many years ago, probably not long after the first of these pages were typed on the Macintosh 512e,
I wrote with delight about Louise Erdrich's wonderful book, Love Medicine. At a book signing,
I had just enough time to tell her I knew the people in her book. I'd met them while working on an
archaeology project for the St. Croix band of Ojibwa (just a county north of Little Blake Lake).

It turns out I only knew a tenth of them. I had met and spent the summer with a few people who reminded
me of people in Love Medicine. Since then, Erdrich has written several other novels about
the native people of North Dakota. I only knew the people and the community superficially. As the
novels demonstrate, people are much more complex. The Last Report on the Miracles at Little No Horse is
the latest of Erdrich's books. The genealogy displayed in the family tree inside the cover is proof enough
of this complexity. The life of Father Damien, described in the book, adds to the power of the story telling and the
wholeness of the epic that began long ago with Love Medicine.

The story is told by Father Damien and the other characters. They make sense out of things the best they
can and so did I. It's an intriguing story, but not as powerful as Love Medicine and not as obscure as
Antelope Wife (another of the earlier books). For me, it may seem that way since part of the narrative is done
by a priest visiting the parish of Little No Horse to investigate the miracles associated with Father Damien.
More interesting is the role of Kashpaw, the woman who ties all the other characters together. What I want to
do now is reread Love Medicine. I'm going to take it home from the bookshelf at Sidetrack where it's been
waiting to tempt visitors for the last few years. I have a feeling I might read the whole series of novels again
because they seem to tell an epic story.

Has anyone else read Erdrich's books? Any thoughts? Share them with us.

So I went back and reread Love Medicine. I first read in in 1985. I know that because Louise Erdrich signed
my copy on November 23, 1985. At the time, I was already writing about books in pages like these (so the volume
number at the top of these pages ought to be 17 or 18, not just 14 or 15). I know I wrote about Love Medicine
because I vividly remember two things about the book and what I wrote.

The first thing I remember writing (and telling the author) was that the stories in this book are about people I knew.
Not literally, but I had just spent a year working on an archaeology project with people on part of the St. Croix
Ojibwa reservation. The characters in the book reminded me vividly of people I'd gotten to know. I don't know
those people anymore and I only remember a couple of them. This is no longer a book about people I know.

The second thing I remember writing about Love Medicine (even though I have no copy of it) is that the
book reminded me of stories my Grandmother Wedding told. She was a person for whom family was the only
world that counted for anything. From the time I was very young she was full of stories about family. Most of
the stories were mundane and meaningless to me. She never told the stories about the dramatic events or scandals.
She told stories about travels and graduations and births and picnics. I had met some of the people she
talked about, but not most. It didn't matter, she'd tell me who the people were and who they were related to.
I was never quite sure who any of them were. But the stories kept flowing out of her memory non stop.

So, Love Medicine was Erdrich's (as well her readers') introduction to a cast of characters.

And what characters!

And what wonderful introductions.

If my grandmother had been willing to tell more than the mundane stuff about the people she found so important and
interesting, I might have paid more attention. I certainly paid more attention to Erdrich's stories. I may decide soon
to sit down with all the books and reread the whole batch to learn more about the Kashpaws, the Morriseys, the
Lamartines, and all the others. Their successes, their scandals, their graduations, and their picnics make them
fascinating people. Even if I don't know them anymore.

• An insightful review of The Last Report... from Dancing Badger and an Erdrich bibliography
• Bill Ott's review of The Last Report... from Book List
• Daphne Potts' review of The Last Report... from PopMatters
• Robert Spillman's interview with Louise Erdrich at Salon.com
• Reading Group Guides on Love Medicine
• Louise Erdrich, Minneapolis Star Tribune's Artist of the Year 2001