David
Heska Wanbli Weiden. Winter Counts. Ecco, 2020.
318 pp. ISBN: 9780062968944
Winter
Counts by David Heska Wanbli
Weiden (Sicangu Lakota) is nothing
short of fantastic. With glowing praise from outlets like the New York Times, Publishers Weekly, Los
Angeles Times, and USA Today, the
novel has caught the attention and won the hearts of the mainstream media. With
the plethora of awards, nominations, and accolades it has garnered—such
as being named one of the Best Books of the year by NPR, winning the Anthony
Award for Best First Novel (Weiden being the first
Native American author to do so), and winning the Spur Awards for Best
Contemporary Novel and Best First Novel—Winter Counts has also gained esteem in the critical literary
sphere. Furthermore, the book has a global presence; it has been translated
into French and released in France under the title Justice Indienne and is being translated
into multiple other languages. Finally, and unsurprisingly, Winter Counts has also been optioned for
film production. The unanimous acclaim this novel has received could fill up
this whole review; clearly, Weiden's debut novel is
widely regarded as excellent. The plaudits Winter
Counts has received are not only notable because it is Weiden's
first novel, but also because it shows promise in the public's potential to pay
more attention to Native American literature, and subsequently more attention
to issues that impact Indian Country. Because Winter Counts does such an excellent job of simultaneously
entertaining and informing its
readers, this mystery novel is far more important than most of us realize.
Set on the Rosebud Indian Reservation
in South Dakota, the novel is told from the first-person perspective of Virgil
Wounded Horse, the local vigilante-for-hire who is also the legal guardian of
his late sister's fourteen-year-old son, Nathan. Virgil's profession springs
from the absence of legal justice in Indian Country, a critical theme of the
novel—a theme that also highlights Weiden's
training in law. The opening scene depicts Virgil brutally beating up Guv Yellowhawk, the P.E. teacher
at the local school who has been raping and assaulting his students. The school
refuses to punish Guv because he comes from a
prominent family; the tribal police are unable to do anything because the Feds prosecute
all felonies committed on the reservation, and they typically refuse to investigate
anything short of murder. The tangle of corrupt local politics and the
jurisdictional nightmare that exists within Indian Country sit front and center
right away.
The opening scene is also particularly
interesting when analyzed within the context of the structure of the mystery
genre. In many mystery, crime, detective, or thriller novels, the opening depicts
a crime scene, a dead body, or a murder—something that relates to the
greater puzzle that won't be pieced together until the very end. In Winter Counts, however, while the opening
scene does depict a crime—Virgil beating up Guv—Guv Yellowhawk
plays little to no role in the remainder of the book. Rather than being an
oblique reference to the novel's main crime, the opening scene of Winter Counts serves a larger purpose. It
introduces the reader to Virgil as well as operates as a metaphor for the
atrocities that plague Indian Country today. Guv Yellowhawk is just one tiny example. The scene represents
both the internal contemporary problems and the jurisdictional issues that stem
from centuries of unabated settler colonialism. Indian Country is a place in
which a P.E. teacher rapes minors, and people in official positions of power
are either unwilling or unable to do anything about it. In this world, Virgil
is a necessity.
The opening scene is also a good
example of how Weiden takes a no-holds-barred approach
when it comes to this novel. A Native man is raping and assaulting Native
children and is not being stopped by the tribal school, while the Feds also
look the other way. A Native vigilante is tasked with beating up the rapist. Virgil
shares numerous other tragic anecdotes throughout: a man beating up his five-months-pregnant
girlfriend so badly that she has a miscarriage and later kills her own cat and
commits suicide; a two-year-old left in his car seat over a brutal winter night
freezing to death; a man forcing his young niece into sexual activities; tribal
council members embezzling money meant to be used to feed the community. There
are no rose-colored glasses to be found here. No sugarcoating. I imagine some
readers may take issue with these details and argue that Weiden's
portrayal of life on Rosebud is too bleak, that the number of Native people
portrayed as criminals is damaging, and that the novel doesn't do enough to
blame settlers. I can see how some readers may have these critiques, but Weiden aims to portray both the good and the bad of life on
the Rosebud reservation. Furthermore, Weiden underscores
the past's role in creating these conditions, and the novel's core focus on
criminal behavior and the subsequent lack of justice makes a strong call to
action regarding serious reform of Federal Indian Law.
As an additional rebuttal to those who
may take issue with Weiden's depictions, it doesn't
appear that Weiden is interested in playing any sort
of games with stereotypes—or negative. Part of what makes this book such
a joy to read is the compilation of characters that populate this storyworld. They are deeply rendered, complex, distinct,
and simultaneously flawed and admirable – Virgil included. The cast of
characters Weiden creates conveys both the
difficulties and the pleasures of life on the Rosebud reservation. Another
example is Virgil's buddy, Tommy: an ex-con who reads Vine Deloria
Jr., drinks quite a bit, becomes a cook at the tribe's casino restaurant, and
eventually finds romance toward the end of the novel. Tommy doesn't play any vital
role in the crime or the investigation, but as a person in Virgil's life, the
reader learns much about Tommy—which seems like a pretty smart move for
future books in the series.
Another important theme embedded in Winter Counts is identity. Virgil is frequently
bullied as a child, especially about him being an iyeska,
a mixed-race individual. Virgil credits his success as the "local enforcer" to
his experiences being bullied: "Yeah, I liked the fighting... Often I'd forget
who it was I was pounding and begin to imagine I was back in junior high school"
(93). Even though Virgil has been able to channel pain from his past into work
he believes is for the greater good, he still struggles with his identity. For
example, the reader learns that when Virgil's father passed away, Virgil had
been in the woods fasting and praying, hoping to find ways to help his father's
pancreatic cancer prognosis. When he returns to discover that his father died
while he was gone, he loses all faith in traditional Lakota practices: "I knew
then that Native traditions—the ceremonies, prayers, teachings—were
horseshit" (17). However, as Virgil deals with the disappearance of his nephew,
he is tested in ways he couldn't have imagined, and his relationship with
traditional Lakota beliefs and practices evolves.
An additional layer that helps Winter Counts shine is its influence
from Native writer Louis Owens. In "A Conversation with David Heska Wanbli Weiden,"
which is included in the paperback edition, the author states that Winter Counts "contains hidden tributes
to a Native author and fairly well-known crime writer." Later in the
conversation, Weiden is less oblique and explains
that he was "heavily influenced by the Native crime writer Louis Owens, who
wrote some terrific indigenous crime novels in the 1990s." While I did not
locate all of the Easter egg references to Owens's work in Winter Counts, I couldn't help but observe the likeness in writing
style. Owens's crime novels utilize taut, sparse, and no-nonsense prose. Weiden takes that style and kicks it up a notch, making for
an addicting and fast-paced read. In addition, I see a lot of similarities
between Virgil and Cole McCurtain—the mixedblood
protagonist of The Sharpest Sight and
Bone Game—particularly with regard
to identity. Both characters wish to embrace the full spectrum of their
identities, but struggle to figure out how. Overarching themes about history
and place are also ways in which Winter
Counts makes nods to Owens's work. Finally, in Winter Counts, as in Owens's novels, the crimes at hand are only a
small part of the much bigger criminal story of settler colonialism.
The only minor critique I have of Winter Counts revolves around some of
the characterizations, like those of Virgil. No doubt he is a nuanced and
thoughtfully molded character, but some basic details seem to be missing. For
example, it is difficult to determine Virgil's age. The reader knows he's been
out of high school for at least a few years, and since he's raising his
fourteen-year-old-nephew, I guesstimated that Virgil was somewhere in his
mid-thirties or early forties. However, this seemed a bit old, at least to me, since
Virgil's girlfriend Marie (who is his classmate and thus his same age) is
applying to medical schools. While it's certainly not unrealistic to apply to
medical school in your mid-thirties, this was an aspect of the book I wish had
been cleared up. How old is Virgil? Additionally, the descriptions of characters'
appearances are sparse, especially that of Virgil. The physicality that defines
Virgil's character—as a vigilante beating up "bad guys"—suggests
that he is an imposing, strong man, but the lack of specific descriptions make picturing
him difficult.
Overall, Weiden
expertly melds elements from the mystery genre with Native American literature
to tell a fast-paced and distinctly addicting story. As a first-in-a-series
novel, Winter Counts leaves readers
begging for more with its taut prose, distinct storyworld,
nuanced characters, and the seamless inclusion of Lakota cultural details. Furthermore,
the unanimous praise that Winter Counts
has received suggests that this novel is a much bigger story than simply an
entertaining read about Virgil investigating a supposed heroin ring on the
reservation. Winter Counts and its
influence have the potential to make notable changes on the ground in Indian
Country.
Mary Stoecklein, Pima Community College