48 pages • 1 hour read
Linda HoganA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
Fathers are scarcely mentioned in Hogan’s novel. The reader never finds out who Angel’s father is, and his identity never forms any part of her journey of self-discovery. Aligned with this lack of emphasis on fatherhood is a disengagement with the patriarchal written history that is of paramount importance in Caucasian cultures. Instead, knowledge and a sense of the past is passed down the maternal line through storytelling, which is a crucial motif in the novel.
Though the book is mainly told through 17-year-old Angel’s first-person narrative, her story is also illuminated through the first-person accounts of Agnes, Bush, and Dora Rouge. It is through these women’s tales that Angel gains a sense of her origins and her place in the world, saying that the women’s stories “called [Angel] home” (48). Indeed, the motif of matriarchal storytelling is so important that the novel begins with Angel remembering Agnes’s account of the going-away ceremony Bush hosted for baby Angel’s departure: “Sometimes now I hear the voice of my great-grandmother, Agnes. It floats toward me like a soft breeze through an open window” (11). The idea that Angel is an “open window” for the stories of her grandmothers indicates that she is always receptive to their wisdom, and that her experience of herself and the world becomes inseparable from their lessons. Angel’s receptiveness to her grandmothers’ storytelling creates the impression of porous boundaries of the self; the idea of an autonomous European self, with its singular experiences and ideas, is relinquished in favor of one that is in communion with its ancestors and nature.
The lake at Adam’s Rib is a symbol of the unlimited power of nature in the novel. Beautiful and ruthless, the lake is forever mutable, both a source of wonder and fear. In Angel’s opinion, the lake represents a time that was “unsounded and bottomless in places” and therefore more mysterious and iterative than linear, chronological time (64). In winter, the lake can be crossed on foot, while in more temperate seasons, it is traversed by canoe. The lake seems calm, but contains what the Natives call “the Hungry Mouth of Water,” a circle where the winter ice never freezes over and lays “its trap of thin ice and awaited whatever crossed above it,” swallowing boats, humans, and animals (62). The scientific explanation is that the Hungry Mouth is a geological oddity; however, the Natives believe that the feature is the work of water spirits. When John Husk and Angel pass it for the first time, Husk throws it a bag of tobacco, along with some cornmeal and bread, to keep the governing spirit “content” (63).
As a result of travelling the lake and “learn[ing] water” from Bush, Angel feels herself metamorphose, saying that she “hardly noticed how [she] grew strong,” and became a healthier, more expansive person (89). Angel’s ability to be shaped by the lake endows the body of water with as much power and personality as the human who traverses it, and is part of Hogan’s central argument that humanity and nature are inextricably linked.
Electricity, a symbol of colonialism, reaches the land of the Fat-Eaters at the same time as the expansion of the dams (266). The “harsh and overly bright” light’s impact is cataclysmic, as “in a split second, the world changed. Even the migratory animals, who flew or swam by light, grew confused” (266). While the electricians claim that electric light is part of the program to bring the Native communities into the 20th century, Angel sees electricity as another means of disturbing the natural world that Natives align themselves with and therefore another type of colonial disruption: “The river became lamps. False gods said, ‘Let there be light,’ and there was alchemy in reverse” (268). In her reference to false deities, Angel questions what right humans have to interfere with what nature has been managing for itself.
While few of the Fat-Eaters want electric light, “once seen, it could easily have become a need or desire” (267). This is apparent when all of Tulik’s family begin to listen to the radio and become accustomed to how news spreads and travels faster to them. However, the new type of light reveals as itself as a mixed blessing, as it invites harsh scrutiny of the lines on faces and the dust inside homes. Electricity forces its new recipients to consider whether they wish to be immersed in their own lives or be more connected to events in the natural world.
By Linda Hogan