June 29, 2010
Louise Erdrich's Shadow Tag is a beautiful novel, perfect in every word, in every moment and character created, and in its felling story of a marriage unraveling. As the couple of Irene and Gil moves downwards, spiraling through episodes of drinking, violence, and tenderness, everyone and everything around them becomes caught in the vortex of mistrust, lost hope, and fear. The three children of the marriage rely on each other, which is good but it is not enough. The failure of the parents yanks all innocence from the children -- and all that is salvageable, in the end, is the story itself. Told through the use of two diaries and one omniscient narrator, Shadow Tag is a grim take on human relationships, both romantic and parental; on human sexuality; and on the odds of survival after disaster.
Erdrich uses the Native American concept of the shadow as the double of the soul -- "a soul could be captured through a shadow" -- to explore how one person through love or through hate becomes both a mirror and a shadow of the object of their love or hate. Gil paints portraits of Irene: he "placed his foot on Irene's shadow when he painted her. And though she tried to pull away, it was impossible to tug that skein of darkness from under his heel." Symmetry, opposition, and erasure are all possible endings for capturing the identity of another person, whether through romantic love, a child's dependence on a parent, sibling identification, or ethnic affiliation: we become what we love but do we destroy or enhance what we love in our becoming? There is no way out of the web of identity in Shadow Tag and with no way out, there is despair. Gil and Irene are caught in their relationship like broken branches frozen in a snow bank; thawing winds of forgiveness and change could release them but the weather in their marriage stays cold.
Erdrich uses the relationship between Gil and Irene as just one example of the hopelessness of human relationships; she also holds up the artist George Catlin who knew no boundaries of admiration or of cruelty in exploring his subjects; examines the faith, often unfounded, of children in the power of their parents to protect and save them; and uses 9/11 to underscore the human potential for destruction. Even the youngest daughter comes to understand that "the worst imaginable things really did come true."
Shadow Tag is a depressing book with little light or comfort to be offered. It is also a deeply honest book, genuine and clear, and unpretentious in its mixing of art history, Native American customs and folklore, and raw details from two lives frozen together. It is a story beautifully told, if not always beautiful to contemplate.
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