ALA Booklist

In this long memoir of his youth, a prolific writer and storyteller examines the Native American portion of his ancestry, as he recalls an Adirondacks childhood poisoned by cruel schoolmates and a venomous, abusive father. Bruchac pays loving tribute to his strong maternal grandfather, Jesse Bowman, who wrested young Joseph away from his father and raised him with unswerving support and encouragement. Without ever acknowledging the boy's Abenaki blood, Bowman nonetheless subtly primed him to later search out his scattered, hidden cultural heritage. The narrative structure is less a straight line than a web; each chapter opens with a traditional or family story, then develops a particular incident or theme: gardens, fishing, hunting, dogs, how and why Abenakis and others concealed themselves in white society, bullies, and, finally, the deaths of his grandmother and grandfather. Though the unhappy revelations are more likely to be therapeutic for the author than enlightening to readers, and Bruchac barely mentions his own written works, each episode is constructed with a true storyteller's attention to language and plot development. Students of modern Native American cultures will find plenty of food for thought. (Reviewed Sept. 1, 1997)

Horn Book

Combining Native American stories with personal memories and dreams, Bruchac crafts a memoir of his childhood growing up with his grandparents in upstate New York. The result is a curious, if often compelling, hybrid--part paean to his grandfather, a man who concealed his Abenaki ancestry, and part success story (precocious social misfit reclaims his lost heritage and becomes famous author). Illustrated with black-and-white photographs.

Kirkus Reviews

Bruchac (Eagle Song, 1997, etc.) tells of his life, with great compassion for those he loved and for the little boy he was, woven with Abenaki tales from his heritage. ``Sonny'' Bruchac lived with his grandparents in the Adirondack foothills of upstate New York, although his parents and younger sisters were not far away. In stories that spin out in the circular ripples of a pond, he chronicles his growing up, beginning each chapter with a First Peoples' story that illuminates what is to come. He was an undersized, bookish, lonely boy, but he was given extraordinary, sustaining love and wisdom from his grandparents. Readers see the furtive, unfolding truth about the grandfather's Abenaki heritage, a major family tragedy and terrible fear dealt with, the deep bonds with the landscape and wildlife. The writing soars, so well-crafted that readers might overlook that this is as much the story of the grandparents as it is Bruchac's own. Teenagers attempting to resolve their own family knots and tangles will find much here that is resonant, but Bruchac's triumph is in the emotional honesty and limpid strength of his working of the words. (b&w illustrations, not seen) (Autobiography. 14+)"

Publishers Weekly (Fri Oct 06 00:00:00 CDT 2023)

The Native American author relates the circumstances of his life, from his often painful youth to his later successes at Cornell and beyond, in what <EMPHASIS TYPE=""ITALIC"">PW called "a poignant memoir." Ages 12-up. <EMPHASIS TYPE=""ITALIC"">(May)

School Library Journal

Gr 7 Up--Bruchac takes readers into the circle of his past in this autobiography that covers his life from his earliest memories to the death of his maternal grandfather, Jesse Bowman, in 1970. He tells about growing up with his grandparents, who ran a country store and gas station. He describes his grandfather as a gentle yet strong man, unschooled but wise in his sense of justice and honesty, and his grandmother, a well-educated and stubborn woman who defied her family by marrying their hired man. Strong but overprotective, she sheltered her grandson from school-yard bullies. Bruchac tells his life chronologically and includes references to Abenaki culture and some legends. Chapters begin with Native American tales from a variety of tribes. Black-and-white reproductions of mostly family photographs lend strong atmosphere to the evocative text. The author's early life (this account ends when he's 28 years old) is a lesson in persistence and survival: his family did not acknowledge their Abenaki past, yet he recovered it and champions his Native heritage. He was, for reasons unclear to him and to readers, the center of intergenerational hostility, having been removed from his parents who lived and raised Bruchac's two sisters only a mile from Bowman's store. However, this is not just the story of one life but the story of a nation.--Loriene Roy, University of Texas, Austin