63 pages • 2 hours read
James WelchA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
The novel’s forward is written by Joy Harjo, a renowned poet and author. Harjo is a member of the Muscogee (Creek) Nation and a founding member of the Native Arts and Cultures Foundation, as well as a two-time United States Poet Laureate. In the Foreword, Harjo establishes the climate surrounding Indigenous rights in the 1970s, when Winter in the Blood was published, explaining: “We asserted ourselves nationally as tribal nations, as cultural peoples, as individuals: all for sovereign human rights” (vii). She connects the protagonist of the novel to this shift in thinking, describing him not as the stereotypical “spiritual savage” but as an individual struggling with both personal and generational grief. Harjo explains that the novel was originally conceived of as a poem and that its “poetic lyricism” stems from those origins.
In a discussion of the novel’s style, Harjo invokes a thematic thread that weaves through much Indigenous American writing: the use of humor and laughter to cope with relentless hardship and discrimination. She explores the protagonist’s position between the old times and the new times, citing his interaction with earlier spiritual and nationalist beliefs even as he engages with the contemporary effects of colonization. Though the novel’s setting does not resemble the world of the present-day reader, Harjo claims it has “more of a place than ever” after decades of ongoing struggle for Indigenous rights (vii).
Louise Erdrich is an award-winning novelist and poet who is a member of the Chippewa Indian tribe. Erdrich opens the Introduction by explaining that Winter in the Blood should rightfully have been awarded the Pulitzer Prize in fiction; she credits the omission to the novel’s “visionary simplicity and the raw depth of the heart that wrote it” (ix). Like Harjo, Erdrich cites the novel’s origins as a poem and credits Welch with the creation of “one indelible image after the other” (x). She praises Welch’s ability to draw big themes through small interactions between characters, and argues that he is able to generate sympathy for each of his characters. Erdrich also suggests that the character of the narrator’s grandmother, “the old woman,” is at the novel’s core, even though the narrative seems not to involve her until the ending: “She is the presiding spirit of both anguish and tenacity, and she stands for the mysterious and undestroyable will of a people” (xii).
Erdrich describes Welch’s style as a Kafkaesque “transparent,” one which features straightforward, unpretentious language that is poetic in its simplicity. Explaining that this style is often interpreted as describing alienation, Erdrich counters that it is more accurately about the narrator’s quiet despair. She knew Welch and describes him as a kind and humble man; she laments the loss of a teacher and friend, and the works he could have created if he hadn’t died at the age of 62. Erdrich explains that she wanted to write this introduction because the novel was so meaningful to her as a young writer. She credits this to the familiarity of the novel’s setting and events, and to Welch’s feat of “[writing] about Indians without once getting pious, uplifting, or making you feel sorry for The Plight” (xiii).
The narrator approaches home through the undeveloped and sparse landscape of Montana’s Milk River valley. It is hot; the narrator has a black eye and his knee aches from walking. The narrator is going home to his mother, his grandmother, and his girlfriend Agnes, a woman who the others believe is his wife. Agnes’s name is not revealed until Chapter 27; she is referred to as the girlfriend, the ex-girlfriend, or the Cree girl. The narrator thinks that he feels nothing for his family, or for anyone, only distance within himself. He wonders if it’s the rural, sparsely populated area that creates this distance. Noting that he’s thirsty, he resumes his walk, with two miles still ahead of him.
The narrator’s mother, Teresa, tells him that Agnes left three days earlier, taking his gun and electric razor with him. Teresa says that she was too busy to do anything about it, and that the girl was young and Cree—a tribe that the narrator’s family does not like. She tells the narrator to at least get the gun back. The narrator has not used the gun in four years, when he “killed Buster Cutfinger’s dog for no reason except that [he] was drunk and it was moving” (2). He hears a rocking chair squeak in the living room—it’s his grandmother, who rarely leaves her chair. He asks after the grandmother and Teresa says that the woman is old and on a diet of soft foods. The narrator suggests they butcher a cow to give the old woman steak, but Teresa says this will just kill her more quickly.
The narrator asks after someone named Lame Bull, but his mother is evasive. She sends him to get a bucket of water. At the well, he thinks about Agnes—a Cree girl from Havre who didn’t fit in on the reservation (3). His mother assumed they were married and was polite to the girl, but Agnes usually sat sullenly in the living room and read movie magazines, which deepened the grandmother’s dislike for her. The narrator explains that his grandmother distrusted Agnes because she was Cree, a tribe that she distrusts. The narrator explains that his mother is Catholic; she drinks with the priest from Harlem, a nearby town. The priest will not come to the reservation to bury the deceased; he insists that the dead are brought to him, and the narrator resents him for this.
The narrator finds his late father’s fishing gear and goes to the river. He explains that there was a sugar beet factory up the river that polluted the water and killed all the fish. The factory closed seven years ago but the river did not improve. Men came to stock the river with pike, but those fish all disappeared. The fish department men tested the water and tried adding other kinds of fish, but those disappeared too. Eventually, “the men from the fish department disappeared, and the Indians put away their new fishing poles” (4).
When the narrator’s father, First Raise, was alive, he’d was known to fix machinery well. The narrator reflects on his father’s habit of drinking with a neighboring town’s white men; he would tell them stories and fix their machinery. The narrator explains that First Raise would charge high rates for these repairs: “Twenty dollars to kick a baler awake—one dollar for the kick and nineteen for knowing where to kick” (5). First Raise had dreams of hunting elk in Glacier Park. He created intricate plans for sneaking in and killing an elk and was very interested in what the penalty would be if he were caught. Despite his detailed plans, he never made the trip. First Raise died 10 years ago, when he froze to death on the route home.
Lame Bull, who is revealed to be Teresa’s boyfriend, comes upon the narrator fishing and suggests that dumping bacon grease into the river creates a good lure to catch fish. The narrator asks if the fish are good; Lame Bull says they’re “muddy” and that it’s been a bad year. Lame Bull references a flood that occurred 12 years ago; he says that the narrator is too young to remember, but the narrator replies that he was almost 20 at the time. Lame Bull tells more stories about the flood and although the narrator insists that he remembers,
They walk back to the house and Lame Bull tells Teresa that the narrator has said she’s ready to marry him, which Teresa denies. They flirt a little, with Teresa appearing to reject Lame Bull. In the living room, the old woman squeaks her rocking chair. Teresa asks the narrator to go feed a calf who was separated from its mother for weaning. The narrator finds the calf nursing through the bars of the fence. The narrator scares the cow off and captures the calf. For a moment, he remembers riding calves with his brother Mose, who died a long time ago.
He gives the calf hay and fills the washtub with water. He finds a motionless tadpole and tries to revive it with no success. He puts it back in the tub. He chases the cow further away, but he knows she will be back to feed her calf because her udders are full of milk.
After supper, Teresa tells the narrator to make sure his grandmother gets anything she needs. She and Lame Bull leave the house, and the narrator is surprised to hear them drive away but thinks that maybe they’re going for groceries. He turns on music for the old woman and fills her pipe before sitting on the floor and looking through one of the magazines that Agnes left behind. He’s read all of the stories already, but he rereads one about some men who tracked and shot a lion after it killed a pregnant Black woman. Surprisingly, the baby survived. It took the men four days to discover that they’d been going in a large circle with the lion, who had also been tracking them.
These early sections establish the setting and the narrator’s sense of disconnection and aimlessness. In the Foreword and Introduction, Harjo and Erdrich highlight the lyrical style of Welch’s writing and point specifically to his depiction of a protagonist who is lost and feels no real sense of belonging. The disconnection and Welch’s lyrical poeticism that both women emphasize are evident in these establishing chapters; the narrator returns home on foot because he does not have a car, or a job, or a home of his own other than his mother’s.
The narrator has an affect that could be called flat, distant, or dissociated. He claims that he feels nothing for anyone else—not his mother, grandmother, or girlfriend—and he seems to have little reaction to events that should solicit emotion. For example, the news that his girlfriend left and stole from him elicits nothing more than a shameful memory of having shot a neighbor’s dog. His recollections of his deceased brother are brief, flitting in and out of his mind without much of a response.
His grandmother, called "the old woman,” is introduced in these chapters as well. She appears to have little presence other than the pointed squeaking of her chair. The narrator describes her as ancient and feeble, chair- and bed-bound, on a diet of soft foods, likely blind, and a woman of very few words. Still, Welch’s subtle insistence on her presence throughout these early chapters indicates that the reader should continue to pay close attention to her as the novel develops. Later, she will more clearly represent the presence of the past in the narrator’s life and help to illustrate the generational aspect of the narrator’s emotional arc.
An important theme that begins to develop early in the narrative is the role of memory. The most overt instance of this in the early chapters is the narrator’s conversation with Lame Bull about the flood of 12 years ago. Though the narrator was nearly 20 and considers himself to have been an adult at the time, Lame Bull describes him as having been “not much more than a baby in Teresa’s arms” and “not much more than a gleam in your old man’s eye” (6). The narrator seems vaguely irked by this misrepresentation. Lame Bull, at his more advanced age, may not see the two things as incompatible; he may perceive a 19-year-old boy as barely more than an infant, despite the narrator’s protests. The disconnect between Lame Bull and the narrator emphasizes the narrator’s sense of separation from his community, and introduces the Impact and Unreliability of Memory. How each man remembers the flood relates to each man’s perception of their own identity. Lame Bull claims an advantage of age and experience over the narrator in suggesting that he remembers more—and more clearly. The narrator rejects this claim, yet cannot force Lame Bull to recognize his (the narrator’s) agency or perspective as an adult.
Despite his general lack of feeling and affect, the narrator is able to access emotions while remembering; shame does not come from Agnes leaving him, but from his memory of shooting a dog. Memory—its limitations, its unique form, and how it shapes of reality—will continue to be explored in the text and represents an important element in the individual’s experience of the world.