Louise Erdrich
Louise Erdrich
Louise Erdrich is an Ojibwe writer of novels, poetry, and children's books featuring Native American characters and settings. She is an enrolled member of the Turtle Mountain Band of Chippewa Indians, a band of the Anishinaabe...
NationalityAmerican
ProfessionChildren's Author
Date of Birth7 June 1954
CountryUnited States of America
death passages rite
Death is the least civilized rite of passage.
effort solitude kind
I did not choose solitude. Who would? It came on me like a kind of vocation, demanding an effort that married women can't picture.
notebook ideas compost
I have always kept notebooks and I go back to them over and over. They are my compost pile of ideas.
plans greatest-wisdom knows
The greatest wisdom doesn't know itself. The richest plan is not to have one.
order brain trying
The story comes around, pushing at our brains, and soon we are trying to ravel back to the beginning, trying to put families into order and make sense of things. But we start with one person, and soon another and another follows, and still another, until we are lost in the connections.
book thinking people
There are people who are always, I think, going to remain people of the book, to use another author's title, but people of the book, who really must be around.
legacy violence native
There is a legacy of violence against native women that has gotten worse and worse over time.
baby strong pregnancy
Women are strong, strong, terribly strong. We don't know how strong until we're pushing out our babies.
cousin hands games
Society is like this card game here, cousin. We got dealt our hand before we were even born, and as we grow we have to play as best as we can.
stories shapes young
When we are young, the words are scattered all around us. As they are assembled by experience, so also are we, sentence by sentence, until the story takes shape.
perfection splendor tasks
To love another another human in all of her splendor and imperfect perfection , it is a magnificent task...tremendous and foolish and human.
weed rocks fishing
...Grandpa's mind had left us, gone wild and wary. When I walked with him I could feel how strange it was. His thoughts swam between us, hidden under rocks, disappearing in weeds, and I was fishing for them, dangling my own words like baits and lures.
fall snow dying
We started dying before the snow, and like the snow, we continued to fall.
baby strong space
Women are strong, strong, terribly strong. We don't know how strong until we are pushing out our babies. We are too often treated like babies having babies when we should be in training, like acolytes, novices to high priestesshood, like serious applicants for the space program.