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Black Elk in Paris
by Kate Horsley
Trumpeter, 2006. 212 pages.
Reviewed by Christy Risser-Milne
I’m a fan of Kate Horsley. Her Confessions of a Pagan Nun had me from the first page. I want to like her work. I really do. Black Elk in Paris is by no means a bad book. It’s just not what I expected in terms of her ability to pull a reader straight into the pages of her books.
This work of semi-historical fiction recounts what may have been the experience of the great Native American chief Black Elk during a sojourn in Paris from 1888-1889. Black Elk had been traveling with Buffalo Bill’s Wild West Show, and it is historical fact that he spent that year in Paris. Horsley constructed for him Parisian friends who are his companions during that time.
Unfortunately the story is not as much about Black Elk as I wish it had been. In fact, he is almost a minor character in the story. Narrated by physician Philippe Normand, we witness the soap opera-like story of an upper-middle class Parisian family. Philippe and Madou—the strong-willed daughter of this family—try to help Black Elk as his homesickness becomes quite literally
life-threatening, causing them to do whatever they must to help him return home.
When Black Elk speaks, it is worth listening to. Horsley has a gift for writing prophets. Why this prophet is silent for so much of the novel is a mystery.
Madou falls in love with Black Elk, who is called “Choice” in the Wild West show, and ignores the obvious love Philippe holds in his heart for her. Instead, Philippe suffers in the silence of permanent bachelorhood. Madou’s ill-fated love for Black Elk finally lands her in an insane asylum, the type of place to which all women who did not behave as society dictates were sent in that day and age.
Horsley’s voice of Philippe is a masterful accomplishment. As narrator he is as detached as science taught doctors to be at that time. In powerful contrast, Madou’s dialogue is fiery and passionate, filled with irrational longings and desires to run counter to culture’s grain, no matter the cost to her reputation.
Beyond any doubt, Horsley’s gift for description allows the reader to see, hear, and even smell the streets of Paris as it approaches the Universal Exposition it hosted and the unveiling of the Eiffel Tower. The cafes, the art, music, and daily life in Paris are very real.
A fight broke out between two dogs on leashes. The ladies walking them were screaming at each other, until one of them swept her pet up into her arms and walked away. Two identical men, smoking pipes and reading newspapers, sat on benches across from one another. Three boys ran past us, as an elderly couple toddled slowly up the steps toward the street. Pigeons bobbed in the walkways and under benches.
I defy the reader not to see that scene. Almost forgettable in its normalcy, it is beautiful to read.
Horsley writes good, engaging stories that are well researched and provide readers a glimpse into the worlds she envisions. But I still wish Black Elk had spoken more. We need his wisdom as much as the characters in this book did.
Christy Risser-Milne is a freelance writer, editor, and photographer.
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