4.3
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8,450 ratings
Make room in your beach bag for this great summer read
"Dazzling. . . . A hard-won love letter to readers and to booksellers, as well as a compelling story about how we cope with pain and fear, injustice and illness. One good way is to press a beloved book into another's hands. Read The Sentence and then do just that."—USA Today, Four Stars
In this New York Times bestselling novel, Pulitzer Prize and National Book Award–winning author Louise Erdrich creates a wickedly funny ghost story, a tale of passion, of a complex marriage, and of a woman's relentless errors.
Louise Erdrich's latest novel, The Sentence, asks what we owe to the living, the dead, to the reader and to the book. A small independent bookstore in Minneapolis is haunted from November 2019 to November 2020 by the store's most annoying customer. Flora dies on All Souls' Day, but she simply won't leave the store. Tookie, who has landed a job selling books after years of incarceration that she survived by reading "with murderous attention," must solve the mystery of this haunting while at the same time trying to understand all that occurs in Minneapolis during a year of grief, astonishment, isolation, and furious reckoning.
The Sentence begins on All Souls' Day 2019 and ends on All Souls' Day 2020. Its mystery and proliferating ghost stories during this one year propel a narrative as rich, emotional, and profound as anything Louise Erdrich has written.
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ISBN-10
0062671138
ISBN-13
978-0062671134
Print length
400 pages
Language
English
Publisher
Harper Perennial
Publication date
September 05, 2022
Dimensions
5.31 x 0.91 x 8 inches
Item weight
10.4 ounces
You can’t get over things you do to other people as easily as you get over things they do to you.
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When I creep into our bed, there is the joy and relief of a person entering a secret dimension. Here, I shall be useless. The world can go on without me. Here I shall be held by love.
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Order tends toward disorder. Chaos stalks our feeble efforts. One has ever to be on guard.
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ASIN :
B08TWYG991
File size :
3276 KB
Text-to-speech :
Enabled
Screen reader :
Supported
Enhanced typesetting :
Enabled
X-Ray :
Enabled
Word wise :
Enabled
"THE SENTENCE is a novel that reckons with ghosts—of both specific people but also the shadows resulting from America’s violent, dark habits." — Kirkus Reviews (starred review)
“Scintillating…More than a gripping ghost story, THE SENTENCE offers profound insights into the effects of the global pandemic and the collateral damage of systemic racism. It adds up to one of Erdrich’s most…illuminating works to date.” — Publishers Weekly (starred review)
"Imaginative, boldly honest...This novel's persistent search for meaning reveals astonishing, sublime depths...Erdrich's prose, layered with unforgettable flourishes of detail...enhances and deepens this growing sense of a larger collective haunting....The Sentence is a staggering addition to Erdrich's already impressive body of work." — BookPage
“The irreverent and funny Tookie grapples with the ghost, then the pandemic, then the protests. Her journey, captured in Erdrich’s expert prose, is a cathartic and comforting story that book lovers will gobble up.” — Real Simple
“Erdrich’s fictional worlds bristle with the awareness that we are all ghosts-in-waiting and that the written word is a way to communicate with people both long dead and not yet born. This is how Erdrich can write a haunting story without invoking even the slightest hint of the gothic; how she blends contemporary politics with myth without breaking a stride.” — Jo Livingstone, The New Republic
“A bewitching novel…Strange, enchanting and funny: a work about motherhood, doom, regret and the magic—dark, benevolent and every shade in between—of words on paper.” — Molly Young, New York Times
"THE SENTENCE is a wonder...an utterly original, exhilarating novel...that burns with moral passion, brims with humor, and captivates with its striking and irresistible voice...A testament to the life-making importance of stories." — Priscilla Gilman, Boston Globe
“Among Erdrich’s most magical novels…The Sentence is a ghost story that hovers between the realms of historical horror and cultural comedy…Moving at its own peculiar rhythm with a scope that feels somehow both cloistered and expansive, it captures a traumatic year in the history of a nation struggling to appreciate its own diversity.” — Ron Charles, Washington Post
“The Sentence has a sometimes disconcerting you-are-there quality…though the events do amplify the novel’s themes of social and personal connection and dissociation, and of the historic crimes and contemporary aggressions, micro and overt, perpetuated in the name of white supremacy." — Minneapolis Star-Tribune
“A deceptively big novel, various in its storytelling styles; ambitious in its immediacy…An absorbing and unquiet novel…that seems ‘essential’ for a deeper take on the times we are living through.” — Maureen Corrigan, NPR
“As timely as it is unexpected: a pandemic ghost story, The Sentence captures the quietly simmering fury of summer 2020…Tookie’s voice is genuine and humorous, her perspective rich with history and literacy.” — Entertainment Weekly
“The many-hued, finely patterned weave of Erdrich’s funny, evocative, painful, and redemptive ghost story includes strands of autobiography…Erdrich’s insights into what her city Minneapolis experienced in 2020 are piercing; all her characters are enthralling, and her dramatization of why books are essential to our well-being is resounding.” — Booklist (starred review)
“The Sentence testifies repeatedly to the power books possess to heal us and yes, to change our lives…There are books like this one, that while they may not resolve the mysteries of the human heart, go a long way toward shedding light on our predicaments. In the case of The Sentence, that’s plenty.” — New York Times Book Review
"This novel, with its spiky yet warm main character and homage to the world of bookselling and reading, is an utterly delightful read that doesn't shy away from 2020's misery and uncertainty." — Buzzfeed
"Dazzling...A hard-won love letter to readers and to booksellers, as well as a compelling story about how we cope with pain and fear, injustice and illness. One good way is to press a beloved book into another's hands. Read The Sentence and then do just that." — USA Today (four stars)
"No one escapes heartache in The Sentence, but mysteries old and new are solved, and some of the broken places made stronger. The Sentence, a book about the healing power of books, makes its own case splendidly." — Tampa Bay Times
"Erdrich's playful wit and casual style belie a seriousness of purpose, which in the case of this winning novel, entails tackling the pandemic, the death of George Floyd, the trials of doing time in prison and not least, the power of books to change lives." — New York Times Book Review, Editor’s Choice
“The Sentence sings when it traces how current events inflect Tookie’s connection to Pollux…Erdrich’s gifts—an intensity of honesty, a summoning of feeling that exhausts itself, deliriously, in images—are on full display here. The images reverberate because the feelings are true.” — The New Yorker
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Time in Time Out
Earth to Earth
While in prison, I received a dictionary. It was sent to me with a note. This is the book I would take to a deserted island. Other books were to arrive from my teacher. But as she had known, this one proved of endless use. The first word I looked up was the word ‘sentence.’ I had received an impossible sentence of sixty years from the lips of a judge who believed in an afterlife. So the word with its yawning c, belligerent little e’s, with its hissing sibilants and double n’s, this repetitive bummer of a word made of slyly stabbing letters that surrounded an isolate human t, this word was in my thoughts every moment of every day. Without a doubt, had the dictionary not arrived, this light word that lay so heavily upon me would have crushed me, or what was left of me after the strangeness of what I’d done.
I was at a perilous age when I committed my crime. Although in my thirties, I still clung to a teenager’s physical pursuits and mental habits. It was 2005, but 1999 was how I partied, drinking and drugging like I was seventeen, although my liver kept trying to tell me it was over an outraged decade older. For many reasons, I didn’t know who I was yet. Now that I have a better idea, I will tell you this: I am an ugly woman. Not the kind of ugly that guys write or make movies about, where suddenly I have a blast of blinding instructional beauty. I am not about teachable moments. Nor am I beautiful on the inside. I enjoy lying, for instance, and am good at selling people useless things for prices they can’t afford. Of course, now that I am rehabilitated, I only sell words. Collections of words between cardboard covers.
Books contain everything worth knowing except what ultimately matters.
The day I committed my crime, I was sprawled at the skinny white feet of my crush Danae, trying to deal with an interior swarm of ants. The phone rang and Danae fumbled the receiver to her ear. She listened, jumped up, shrieked. Clasped the phone with both hands and screwed her face shut. Then her eyes waterbugged open.
He died in Mara’s arms. God, oh god. She doesn’t know what to do with his body!
Danae flung the phone away and vaulted back onto the couch, howling and thrashing her spidery arms and legs. I crawled under the coffee table.
‘Tookie! Tookie! Where are you?’
I dragged myself up onto her cabiny moose pillows and tried to soothe my deranged dear, rocking her, clutching her frowsy yellow head against my shoulder. Though she was older than me, Danae was spindly as a downy pre-woman. When she curled against me, I felt my heart surge and I became her shield against the world. Or maybe bulwark gives a more accurate picture.
‘It’s all right, you are safe,’ I said in my huskiest voice. The harder she wept the happier I felt.
‘And don’t forget,’ I said, pleased by her needy snuffling, ‘you’re a big winner!’
Two days before, Danae had scored a once-in-a-lifetime casino win. But it was too soon to talk about the beautiful future. Danae was clutching her throat, trying to tear out her windpipe, banging her head on the coffee table. Filled with an uncanny strength, she smashed a lamp and tried to gouge herself with a shard of plastic. Even though she had everything to live for. ‘Fuck the win. I want him! Budgie! Oh Budgie, my soul!’
She rammed me off the couch.
‘He should be with me, not her. Me not her.’
I had heard this rave for the past month. Danae and Budgie had planned to run off together. A complete overthrow of reality. Both had claimed they’d stumbled into an alternate dimension of desire. But then the old world clobbered them. One day Budgie sobered up and went back to Mara, who was not such a bad person. For instance, she’d got clean and stayed clean. Or so I thought. For now it was possible that Budgie’s effort at getting normal again had failed. Though it is normal to die.
Danae was howling.
‘Doesn’t know what to do with his body! What, what, what is that about?’
‘You are amok with grief,’ I said.
I gave her a dish towel for the crying. It was the same dish towel I’d tried to kill the ants with even though I knew I was hallucinating. She put the cloth to her face, rocked back and forth. I tried not to look at the crushed ants trickling between her hands. They were still twitching their tiny legs and waving their fragile antenna stalks. Some idea stabbed at Danae. She shuddered, froze. Then she twisted her neck, blared her big pink eyes at me, and said these chilling words.
‘Budgie and me are one. One body. I should have his body, Tookie. I want Budgie, my soul!’
I slid away to the fridge and found a beer. I brought her the beer. She knocked my arm away.
‘This is a time to keep our heads crystal clear!’
I chugged the beer and said it was the time to get wrecked.
‘We are wrecked! What’s crazy is that she, who wouldn’t give him sex for a year, has his god-given body.’
‘He had an ordinary body, Danae. He wasn’t a god.’
She was beyond my message and the ants were fire ants; I was scratching my arms raw.
‘We’re going in there,’ Danae said. Her eyes were now flaming red. ‘We’re going in like the goddamn Marines. We’re gonna bring Budgie home.’
‘He’s home.’
She pounded her breast. ‘I, I, I, am home.’
‘I’ll be leaving now.’
I crept toward the broken door. Then came the kicker.
‘Wait. Tookie. If you help me get Budgie? Bring him here? You can have my win. That’s a year’s salary, like, for a teacher, honey. Maybe a principal? That’s 26K.’
I froze on the sticky entry mat, thinking on all fours.
Danae felt my awe. I reversed progress, rolled over, and gazed up at her cotton-candy upside-down features.
‘I give it to you freely. Just help me, Tookie.’
I had seen so much in her face. Seen the sparkle glow, the tinfoil Ferris wheels, and more. I had seen the four winds travel the green wide-woven world. Seen the leaves press up into a false fabric, closing out my vision. I had never seen Danae offer me money. Any amount of money. And this amount could set me up. It was disturbing, touching, and the most consequential thing that ever happened between us.
‘Oh, babe.’ I put my arms around her and she panted like a soft puppy. Opened her pouty wet mouth.
‘You’re my best friend. You can do this for me. You can get Budgie. She doesn’t know you. Mara’s never seen you. Besides, you have the cold truck.’
‘Not anymore. I was fired from North Shore Foods,’ I said.
‘No,’ she cried. ‘How come?’
‘Sometimes I wore the fruit.’
I’d put melons in my bra and that sort of thing when I delivered groceries. Cukes in the trou. Well, was that so terrible? My thoughts spun out. As always when I held down a job, I had copied the keys. When inevitably fired, I gave the old keys back. I kept my key copies in a cigar box, clearly labeled with their use. Souvenirs of my employment. It was just a habit. No thought of mischief.
‘Look, Danae, I think you’re supposed to have an ambulance or hearse or something.’
She stroked my arm, up and down in a pleading rhythm.
‘But Tookie! Listen. Clearly. Listen! Clearly!’
I focused elsewhere. The stroking was so nice. Finally she coaxed my gaze to her and spoke as though I was the unreasonable child.
‘So, Tookie honey? Mara and Budgie relapsed together and he died. If you wear a nice dress? She’ll let you put him in the back of the truck.’
‘Danae, the trucks are painted with plums and bacon, or steak and lettuce.’
‘Don’t let her see the truck! You’ll hoist him up and load him in. He’ll be . . .’
Danae could not go on for a moment. She gagged like a toddler.
‘. . . safe in a refrigerated condition. And then the money . . .’
‘Yes.’
My brain revved up with money-sign adrenaline and my thoughts came on furiously. I could feel the neurons sparking. Danae’s voice went sweet and wheedly.
‘You’re big. You can heft him. Budgie’s on the slight side.’
Budgie was measly as a rat, I said, but she didn’t care what I said. She was beaming through her tears, because she could tell I was ready to do her bidding. At that point, the job I currently held took over. Reader of contracts. That’s what I was at the time. A part-time paralegal who read over contracts and defined the terms. I told Danae that I wanted the deal in writing. We’d both sign it.
She went straight to the table, wrote something up. Then she did a better thing. Wrote the check out with zero after zero and waved it in my face.
‘Put your dress on. Fix up. Go get Budgie and the check is yours.’
She drove me to North Shore. I walked up to the warehouse. Fifteen minutes later, I was pulling out in a delivery truck. I was wearing heels, a painfully tight black cocktail dress, a green jacket. My hair was combed back and sprayed. Danae had swiftly applied my makeup. Best I’d looked in years. I carried a notebook, a file from Danae’s daughter’s stack of schoolwork. There was a pen in my purse.
What was Danae going to do with Budgie when she got him? I asked myself this question as I swiftly rolled along. What on earth is she going to do? Answer there was none. The ants came up under my skin.
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Louise Erdrich
Louise Erdrich is one of the most gifted, prolific, and challenging of American novelists. Her fiction reflects aspects of her mixed heritage: German through her father, and French and Ojibwa through her mother. She is the author of many novels, the first of which, Love Medicine, won the National Book Critics Circle Award and the last of which, The Round House, won the National Book Award for Fiction in 2012. She lives in Minnesota.
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Customer reviews
4.3 out of 5
8,450 global ratings
Katherine Y
5
Quirky novel about Native American woman who confronts ghost at a bookshop where she works
Reviewed in the United States on February 19, 2022
Verified Purchase
If you’re in the mood for something quirky and darkly humorous, you will find this novel entertaining. You’ll get insight into how some Indigenous people cope with the obstacles of modern living without losing their ties to the past and their culture. The main character, Tookie, is a Native American woman starting her life after being released from serving a ten-year prison sentence. Tookie is married to the man, an ex-tribal police officer, who sent her to prison in the first place. He arrested Tookie when she was caught transporting heroin taped to a dead body. Tookie’s best friend had involved Tookie in a highly illegal caper. She had been set up. Jail gives Tookie time to develop a voracious reading habit. She gets out and finds the tribal police officer waiting for her. Tookie’s former teacher works at an independent bookstore and helps her get a job there. The bookstore sells everything but specializes in Indigenous authors. At last, Tookie has found her element and is very skilled at placing just the right book in just the right reader’s hands. One of her favorite and, at the same time, most irritating customers is Flora, a sixty-ish woman who is described as a Native American “wannabe.” If there’s an Indigenous festival, Flora knows about it; if there’s a lecture on Native American folklore, Flora has the tickets. She even fosters young Indigenous runaways. Flora is at the bookstore almost daily. When Flora misses several days, Tookie learns that Flora has died suddenly. That doesn’t stop Flora, however. Five days after Flora dies, Tookie hears her unique footsteps walking in the book aisles. She hears Flora’s bracelets jangling and the swish of her clothes. This is the beginning of Flora’s haunting of the bookstore. At night when the bookstore is closed, Flora rearranges stray papers. She leaves brown paper hand towels all over the bathroom floor. When Tookie opens up in the morning, she doesn’t know what mess will greet her. At first, Flora only makes her presence known to Tookie but soon makes the co-workers aware of her existence. Tookie concludes that Flora is at the bookstore because she’s looking for a book that Tookie has in her possession. This is a book that Tookie buried because she had a near-death experience while reading it. Tookie worries that she is beginning to lose her mind. This story had me engaged immediately. It’s not a typical solve-the-mystery type read. While I laughed at some of the situations Tookie was dragged into; I found she was a sympathetic character just trying to live her best life. The writing is superb. I recommend this book to anyone who enjoys ghost stories, reads Native American authors, and likes to haunt bookstores.
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17 people found this helpful
Jayne P. Bowers
5
Go In Peace
Reviewed in the United States on December 28, 2021
Verified Purchase
Here’s how much I enjoyed The Sentence: I found myself thinking so much about Tookie, Pollux, Hetta, Jarvis, Asema, Flora, jingle dresses, and fry bread that I downloaded the Audible version too. Read by the author, the “spoken word” was particularly meaningful, even fun at times, because of Erdrich’s voice inflection, speech rhythm, and emphasis she placed on certain passages. After listening, I often went back to the Kindle version to reread entire sections, especially those relating to the George Floyd protests, bookstore experiences with Flora, and several about nature, Pollux, and Jarvis.
Because of having read several of Erdrich’s books, I was prepared for the first chapter. Like the others, it was a bit unsettling and set the reader up for what was to follow. Tookie, the main character, agreed to do a favor for a friend (big mistake) and ended up serving time in prison. She’s released early and marries the man who arrested her, Pollux. They’re Native Americans living in Minnesota who seem to be living somewhat ordinary lives and then Wham! There’s Covid, a Presidential election, the murder of George Floyd, and protests relating to his death. About this time, Pollux’s daughter Hetta and her newborn come to live with them for a while. Life happens.
Here are a few of the things I particularly liked about The Sentence: • Experiencing these major events through the perspective of Tookie and others increased my insight about other people’s struggles especially those of color. “Indian after Indian and Black after Black and brown after brown person…. • There’s some backstory, but for the most part, the action of the novel takes place within a year’s time. Plus, every reader could identify with one or all of the major themes and/or happenings. Is there anyone who hasn’t been touched by COVID-19 in some way? • I learned some new words and terms, i.e., deliquesce and the difference between All Saints’ Day and All Souls’ Day. I also learned more about Native American culture. • Her description of people, places, and things: “I’m a little sad when the shapes of the trees are revealed.” And how about another short phrase: “There was the residue of joy in their tattered yard.” I’ve seen yards like that. • My consciousness was raised. I love reading novels in which I learn something. I’d heard of Philando Castile, but not Zachary Bearheels, Bad River Ojibwe, Charles Lone Eagle, or Jason Pero (among others). • The relationships and ties that bind people to one another, both past and present, the material world and the spirit world. There’s even a ghost involved, Flora. Or was she a spirit--as Pollux might think?
Things I dislike about The Sentence: 0, nada, nothing. I liked everything. I hope you will, too.
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29 people found this helpful
Camila Russell
5
Brilliant
Reviewed in the United States on April 13, 2022
Verified Purchase
Louise Erdrich is one of if not my favorite writer. That being said, let me tell you that this book was a five-star read and will definitely be on the list of my favorite books of 2022.
In this novel we follow Tookie, an indigenous woman who makes a dumb mistake and ends up going to prison. She is sentenced to 60 years. Her crime involves a dead body and transporting it across state lines but we get the feel right off the bat that Tookie is not a criminal, she is not a bad person, she was simply naive and was trying to help a friend.
Everybody seems shocked by her crime and sentencing, only Tookie does not seem surprised. “I was on the wrong side of the statistics. Native Americans are the most oversentenced people currently imprisoned”. While in prison, Tookie reads as much as she can. Books become her salvation.
But because of her tribe’s defense lawyer, her sentence is commuted and she is released from prison. Tookie then starts working at a local bookstore in Minneapolis, whose owner is a woman named Louise, and tries to rebuild her life. Erdrich lives in Minneapolis and also owns a bookstore much like the one in this novel.
One of the customers of the bookstore is a white woman, who claims Native heritage, named Flora. But Flora suddenly passes away and her ghost refuses to leave the bookstore. That sort of sets off the ghost story in the book. But The Sentence is much more than just about an Indigenous woman or a haunted bookstore. It reflects on the city’s upheaval in 2020 amid the pandemic and the police killing of George Floyd.
I loved how Erdrich portrayed the feeling of confusion at the beginning of the COVID-19 pandemic, how scary it was when nobody knew exactly how it was transmitted, how it would change our lives. And in the middle of the pandemic, her city — and the whole country — is hammered by the terrible death of Jorge Floyd by the police, and with the Black Lives Matter protests that erupted everywhere.
Will these events hunt us just like Flora haunted Tookie at the bookstore? This story takes you to so many unexpected places, I absolutely adored it. I am certain Louise Erdrich can write about everything under the sun. Her prose is absurdly beautiful. I also loved the book recommendations throughout the book and the list of books she provides at the end of the story.
The Sentence has a little bit of everything: real issues, ghost story, mystery, a bookstore and book lovers. It is also on the longlist of the 2022 Women’s Prize for Fiction. I hope it wins. I highly recommend this book.
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39 people found this helpful
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