An account of the life of Joaquin Murieta; a Mexican-Californian rebel around the mid 19th Century. This story (1854) is the first work to be published by a Native American (Cherokee) and the first to be published in California. Murieta's life as a rebel was the result of the inhumane treatment of his people in the early days of California during the gold rush. Tired and sickened by his plight to never have true rights to his property, to never have a say in politics that affected his life and the life of his loved ones, he opts to reek havoc upon California, stealing horses, looting and killing gold miners with the plans for a major rebellion. The story is told without chapters and is best read in one long reading or broken up by two readings. If the story is read in more than two sittings, the reader may find it difficult to get into it again, as it is mostly just a continuous account of "and then they raided and killed these guys over here...then they stole these horses...then someone was shot" etc.
There is a bit of poetry employed in the narrative at times and despite the constantly flowing accounts of Murieta and crew's adventures, it is possible to form a bit of attachment to the characters within. For example the rare times when, for whatever reason, Murieta spares someone's life or refuses to allow a woman to be mistreated and the reader sees for a moment an individual with a vision and a mission instead of a kind of fast-paced, superhero/villain/vigilante who almost always escapes. There is a place in the story where Murieta reads in the paper that the brother of his lover, Rosita, was hanged for the accusation of killing a General and he must tell her. The few paragraphs to follow contain the most prose and sentiment in the novel. When Rosita cries for the loss of her brother it reads, "the blood which stains the fair face of our mother Earth may not be washed out with an ocean of tears." Considering Rollin Ridge's ancestors signed the document that spurred on the Trail of Tears for his region- it is a telling little quote. In the passages following the telling of the hanging, the reader gets the sense that John Rollin Ridge is communicating the sorrows of his people as well, though he was more conservative- advocated for assimilation and himself owning slaves and from a prominent, slave owning family-he could still acknowledge the wrongs committed upon his people and other nations,
"We may go down to our graves with the scorn of an indignant world upon us, which
hurls us from its presence-but the eternal God allows no fragment of our souls, no atom
of our dust, to be lost from his universe. Poised on our own immortality, we may defy
the human race and all that exists beneath the throne of God!"
This cold and haunting past is tied in with present reality in excellent introduction to this edition by Professor Hsuan L. Hsu, "racial profiling, deportations, criminalization, police violence, and radicalized dispossession...racially disproportionate rates of incarceration, the systemic nature of antiblack police brutality and the intensified militarization of the US-Mexico border, fueled by racist stereotypes such as President Trump's "bad hombres." To all of which this reader says, well done Hsuan and Penguin for this introduction!
The downside to this edition however, is the forward that precedes the intro, by author Diana Gabaldon (of Mexican descent), who for some reason finds it necessary to immediately discuss the merits of *sigh*...Speedy Gonzales... but don't worry, no Mexican SHE knows thinks it's racist! Whew what a relief. Sorry, Penguin, besides the interesting early U.S. history of who and what was considered "Mexican," this forward was pretty cringe. It is especially cringe when she decides to condescend in recalling how literally, "funny" are the "sorts of people who spend their time thinking about" how a fictional character may uphold racist stereotypes. The comment is entirely self-serving as it was written in 2018 and Gabaldon has been given, right or wrong, a bit of flack for her depictions of race in her fictional novels. To which I say, Diana, shaming and literally laughing at people who are working to decolonize their minds is no way to prove the points you are trying to make in the defense of your own work-shame on you.
Overall, it wouldn't be shocking if this isn't the best novel you read in a year, but much like James Weldon Johnson's "An Autobiography of an Ex-Colored Man," there is no argument that given the author's heritage and history- in the face of unceasing, all too prevalent adversity-it is work of some historical significance. I recommend!