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A review by literarilydes
Bad Cree by Jessica Johns
challenging
dark
hopeful
sad
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
5.0
Johns creates a modern Gothic story full of characters that don't just pop off the pages, they shiver. I've never read a main character like Mackenzie. She feels like she's both a friend, and also maybe your younger sister. Her point of view will speak to anyone who's ever run from their problems or left their hometown simply to hurt their own feelings. It's hard to talk about this book without giving away exactly what made it such a suprising, and deeply moving read, so I won't talk very much about the plot.
Instead I want to talk about the place. Johns paints a picture of High Prairie so vivid that you can feel the land under your feet. This story is about grief. It's profoundly tied to oil culture in Alberta, and the places and people that we leave behind once we've drained every ounce of their economic potential. It's a story that takes place in the smoke of bush parties, in the smell of lake water, and the deep snow of northern Alberta winters. Johns takes readers from the impersonal bustle of a big city, to the warm, crowded, vibrant and loud reality of a family kitchen.
I wouldn't say that this book was scary. More spooky. The cast of characters are truly what make it, especially the relationships between the women in Mackenzie's family. Johns shares her, and Mackenzie's, Cree culture largely through the actions and stories told by Mackenzie's endlessly bad ass aunties and older relations. Bad Cree is, in the end, an ode to Indigenous women, their strength, the things they lose, and the people they love.
Readers who look like me (white people) should be careful to read responsibly and respectfully. This book tells the truth about hard topics like generational trauma, missing and murdered Indigenous women, disenfranchisment, and grief. It does this while keeping the story rooted firmly in the experience of a complex family, while developing it's own IndigiGothic flavor. Mandatory reading for anyone living on Turtle Island, and especially on Treaty 6, 7, and 8 lands (known as Alberta.)
I can't recommend Bad Cree enough.
Instead I want to talk about the place. Johns paints a picture of High Prairie so vivid that you can feel the land under your feet. This story is about grief. It's profoundly tied to oil culture in Alberta, and the places and people that we leave behind once we've drained every ounce of their economic potential. It's a story that takes place in the smoke of bush parties, in the smell of lake water, and the deep snow of northern Alberta winters. Johns takes readers from the impersonal bustle of a big city, to the warm, crowded, vibrant and loud reality of a family kitchen.
I wouldn't say that this book was scary. More spooky. The cast of characters are truly what make it, especially the relationships between the women in Mackenzie's family. Johns shares her, and Mackenzie's, Cree culture largely through the actions and stories told by Mackenzie's endlessly bad ass aunties and older relations. Bad Cree is, in the end, an ode to Indigenous women, their strength, the things they lose, and the people they love.
Readers who look like me (white people) should be careful to read responsibly and respectfully. This book tells the truth about hard topics like generational trauma, missing and murdered Indigenous women, disenfranchisment, and grief. It does this while keeping the story rooted firmly in the experience of a complex family, while developing it's own IndigiGothic flavor. Mandatory reading for anyone living on Turtle Island, and especially on Treaty 6, 7, and 8 lands (known as Alberta.)
I can't recommend Bad Cree enough.
Content Warnings
Graphic: Death, Gore, Violence, Blood, and Grief