Scan barcode
A review by pagesofpins
Caddie Woodlawn by Carol Ryrie Brink
2.0
This might be the quintessential book to illustrate the danger of a single story.
I see why people love it. Caddie, the adventurous red-headed little girl whose pioneer family and friends are the main characters, is brave and kind and loyal and interesting. She puts Laura Ingalls to shame. She learns to repair clocks, appreciate her tagalong younger sister, stand up for her friends, and be a better person as she grows up. She is allowed by her father to run with the boys, putting out schoolhouse fires, telling tall tales, and floating down the river. It's well written and interesting, and has the appeal of being a "mostly true" story.
When the author wrote her grandmother's story, I doubt she thought of how she wrote about the native people in the book as problematic or racist. It was the 1930's, after all. But as a modern American, I'm wincing on almost every page.
The men of the town gather together at one point to work themselves into a frenzy over the possibility of a "massacree", and the Woodlawn family denounce them as a foolish mob and heroically stand up for "their Indians", the friendly exceptions to the savage bloodthirsty norm. While we hear a great deal about the War Between the States, the formal war declared between the U.S. government and the Sioux over repeatedly broken treaties is never mentioned. These Indians are not fighting a war as far as the Woodlawns, or the children reading, know--they're just naturally violent and savage, with the sole exception of folks like Indian John, who has decided to turn from the bloodthirsty ways of his fathers and embrace white civilization. Upchuck.
Then, we have the lazy white man who sends away his kindly native wife because he's ashamed of her. Of course, cry the Woodlawn children, their own father would never have done such a crazy thing in the first place as to "marry an Indian!". Surely not, thinks Mrs. Woodlawn, I was very pretty in my youth--I'd have no trouble detracting attention from a mere Indian woman. Uggggggh.
Of course, it doesn't stop there. It's up to kindly Caddie to buy the "half breed Hankinsons" (and they are virtually never referred to without the title half-breed attached) some treats at the store with her silver dollar, including combs they've never had and red handkerchiefs: "The little Hankinsons were speechless with delight. The red was like music to their half-savage eyes."
I think most modern kids will catch how uncomfortable that scene is, though possibly not the irony of the later scene in which Cousin Annabelle comes from Boston. Oddly, when she describes them as primitive and quaint on a constant basis and their home as "savage country", they don't seem to like it much. Funny how that works.
We also have repeated anecdotes about the scalp belt Indian John leaves Caddie, and how cool it is, and how much everyone wants to touch the shriveled scalps that are sooo awesome. And of course, the Woodlawns discuss fake ridiculous names for John's father like Chief Bloody Tomahawk to tell the neighborhood when they show it off.
I cringe thinking what Native kids thought reading this Newbery winner in school, particularly the constant references to natives as "half-breeds", "savages", "red men" and "redskins". Holy awkward tomatoes, Batman.
Of course, in the end we have to conform our adventurous heroine. It would not do if she were still a tomboy at the end of our story, as that would be improper. So Mr. Woodlawn makes a long speech about how women have the important job of softening the homes of naturally rough men. Without this important job, as important as a man's, mind you, society will not function. Will Caddie agree to learn to be a housewife and take on this important job?
Of course she will. She throws her arms around her father's neck and cries "Father! Father!" overcome with emotion. And the schoolgirls of America rolled their eyes and called for more adventure. While I did really enjoy that the brothers decided to learn housework as well, I could have done without the dramatic come to Betty Crocker finale.
Great character. Terrible story.
I see why people love it. Caddie, the adventurous red-headed little girl whose pioneer family and friends are the main characters, is brave and kind and loyal and interesting. She puts Laura Ingalls to shame. She learns to repair clocks, appreciate her tagalong younger sister, stand up for her friends, and be a better person as she grows up. She is allowed by her father to run with the boys, putting out schoolhouse fires, telling tall tales, and floating down the river. It's well written and interesting, and has the appeal of being a "mostly true" story.
When the author wrote her grandmother's story, I doubt she thought of how she wrote about the native people in the book as problematic or racist. It was the 1930's, after all. But as a modern American, I'm wincing on almost every page.
The men of the town gather together at one point to work themselves into a frenzy over the possibility of a "massacree", and the Woodlawn family denounce them as a foolish mob and heroically stand up for "their Indians", the friendly exceptions to the savage bloodthirsty norm. While we hear a great deal about the War Between the States, the formal war declared between the U.S. government and the Sioux over repeatedly broken treaties is never mentioned. These Indians are not fighting a war as far as the Woodlawns, or the children reading, know--they're just naturally violent and savage, with the sole exception of folks like Indian John, who has decided to turn from the bloodthirsty ways of his fathers and embrace white civilization. Upchuck.
Then, we have the lazy white man who sends away his kindly native wife because he's ashamed of her. Of course, cry the Woodlawn children, their own father would never have done such a crazy thing in the first place as to "marry an Indian!". Surely not, thinks Mrs. Woodlawn, I was very pretty in my youth--I'd have no trouble detracting attention from a mere Indian woman. Uggggggh.
Of course, it doesn't stop there. It's up to kindly Caddie to buy the "half breed Hankinsons" (and they are virtually never referred to without the title half-breed attached) some treats at the store with her silver dollar, including combs they've never had and red handkerchiefs: "The little Hankinsons were speechless with delight. The red was like music to their half-savage eyes."
I think most modern kids will catch how uncomfortable that scene is, though possibly not the irony of the later scene in which Cousin Annabelle comes from Boston. Oddly, when she describes them as primitive and quaint on a constant basis and their home as "savage country", they don't seem to like it much. Funny how that works.
We also have repeated anecdotes about the scalp belt Indian John leaves Caddie, and how cool it is, and how much everyone wants to touch the shriveled scalps that are sooo awesome. And of course, the Woodlawns discuss fake ridiculous names for John's father like Chief Bloody Tomahawk to tell the neighborhood when they show it off.
I cringe thinking what Native kids thought reading this Newbery winner in school, particularly the constant references to natives as "half-breeds", "savages", "red men" and "redskins". Holy awkward tomatoes, Batman.
Of course, in the end we have to conform our adventurous heroine. It would not do if she were still a tomboy at the end of our story, as that would be improper. So Mr. Woodlawn makes a long speech about how women have the important job of softening the homes of naturally rough men. Without this important job, as important as a man's, mind you, society will not function. Will Caddie agree to learn to be a housewife and take on this important job?
Of course she will. She throws her arms around her father's neck and cries "Father! Father!" overcome with emotion. And the schoolgirls of America rolled their eyes and called for more adventure. While I did really enjoy that the brothers decided to learn housework as well, I could have done without the dramatic come to Betty Crocker finale.
Great character. Terrible story.