Oyate - Avoid The Indian in the Cupboard

Lynne Reid Banks has written two books which, while not intended to have a specifically Native American theme, do depend, for major plot turns, on an Indian character. Both books have won critical acclaim for fine writing, and were praised for having a "wonderful collection of characters."

The setting is England. On his birthday, Omri is given a small, white cupboard. When, for lack of a better idea, he puts a plastic "Indian" in it, the little figure comes to life, still tiny, but very much a human being. Omri's life becomes centered around the needs and wants of "Little Bear." The object here was not to draw an authentic Native person, but to create an arresting literary device. Although the little "Indian" is called Iroquois, no attempt has been made, either in text or illustrations, to have him look or behave appropriately. For example, he is dressed as a Plains Indian, and is given a tipi and a horse.

This is how he talks: "I help... I go... Big hole. I go through... Want fire. Want make dance. Call spirits." Et cetera. There are characteristic speech patterns for those who are also Native speakers, but nobody in the history of the world ever spoke this way.

As with The Indian in the Cupboard, the writing in The Return of the Indian is vivid, and the dangers faced by Omri and his friend Patrick are compelling and real. However, one of the talking points for those who loved the first book was that it showed clearly the boys' growing realization that the manipulation of those very real little people was wrong. Why, then, bring Little Bear back?

What one reviewer describes as "some lively battle scenes" are among the most graphic war scenes in modern children's literature. As a whole, the book is brutal, and the Indians are horrifying:

He saw an Indian making straight for him. His face, in the torchlight, was twisted with fury. For a second, Omri saw, under the shaven scalplock, the mindless destructive face of a skinhead just before he lashed out... .The Algonquin licked his lips, snarling like a dog... .Their headdresses... even their movements... were alien. Their faces, too—their faces! They were wild, distorted, terrifying masks of hatred and rage.

My heart aches for the Native child unfortunate enough to stumble across, and read, these books. How could she, reading this, fail to be damaged? How could a white child fail to believe that he is far superior to the bloodthirsty, sub-human monsters portrayed here?

from Through Indian Eyes: The Native Experience in Books for Children, edited by Beverly Slapin and Doris Seale. Los Angeles: UCLA American Indian Studies Center (1998)