2 1 2 W e s t e r n A m e r ic a n L it e r a t u r e S u m m e r 2 0 0 5 Encounters like quick film shots tell the powerful connection: the youthful shooting of a crow with an unexpected perfect shot, a crow suddenly flying straight at him, a crow’s claw seizing his wrist in a dream, the unforgettable taxidermist nosing “right into the down, /... inhal[ing] it like it was the first day ofspring” (23). Fact here eventuates into myth and the large landscapes and per sons of the later poems, expressed through a consciousness that includes Indian, Chinese, and Native American worldviews, as well as the landscapes that speak to Sowder. It will take a John Muir to scour the places he has already been. Most remarkable about Sowder’s sense of joy is that it penetrates beyond tragic loss of friend and family, even beyond divorce. He is often far ahead, calling back to us. “Joy is rooted in emptiness,” he says, “in not running away from your own pain” (57). We can be full even when we are empty, the night itself “great, luminous emptiness saturating, holding all things” (21). The “empty boat” of the title, derived from Thoreau and Tu Fu, glides and turns in the streams and lakes of these poems, carrying the meditating poet, often with his love, culminating in gentle aesthetic resolutions. In the brilliantly concen trated “May Morning, Snake River,” Sowder’s own boat that seems empty is quite otherwise. Floating the Yangtse in his imagination, the boat simultane ously connects the East and the West as it is “Filled with morning light / riding the sky-blue waves” (69). What remains perhaps to be savored most from poems like “At the Edge of a Field” and “New Snow, Ann Arbor” are the mystical statements that will surely engage us in times to come. An infectious humor informs his new myth in “Christ’s Kite” and, reminiscent of Thoreau’s bug in an apple tree table, Sowder creates his own bug, an aqueous creature “sucking the scum / from the Buddha’s body,” and ending, “Blessed is the scum of the earth / for it shall adorn the body of God” (72). These are daring, bold, and original poems. Today Thoreau would see a fellow traveler. Sowder’s poems, distinguished and rewarding, are here to be read. Indigenous American Women: Decolonization, Empowerment, Activism. By Devon Abbott Mihesuah. Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 2003. 246 pages, $16.95. Reviewed by Patrice Hollrah University of Nevada, Las Vegas Oklahoma Choctaw scholar Devon Abbott Mihesuah has compiled her pre vious writings on Native women and notes that they do not contain the “defini tive work on anything. Instead, these are merely overviews of complex topics that ... will continue the much-needed discussions” (xxi). The strength of this collection lies in the topics that provide an important starting place for readers who desire a deeper understanding of the issues facing Native women today. B O O K R E VIEW S 2 1 3 The essays in section 1focus on matters related to “Research and Writing.” Mihesuah argues that non-Natives should speak to Native women when researching them and the final product should in some way benefit the Native community. More important is Mihesuah’s warning that “there is not one [authoritative voice] among Native women, and no one feminist theory total izes Native women’s thought” (6). Her sensitivity to research methodologies is evident in “Writing about Anna Mae Pictou-Aquash,” as she discusses how she “needed to write an essay that not only conformed to academic standards but also conformed to Anna Mae’s family’s standards” (11). Section 1 closes with Mihesuah’s personal account of the racism and sexism she has faced as a Native woman in academia. Nevertheless, she finds empowerment in being a role model for Native students and in teaching in an indigenous studies program that is involved in nation building. Her observations on research and writing about Native women are valuable reminders to other scholars in the field. The second section, “Colonialism and...