You Don't Have to Say You Love Me: A Memoir

This book is written in prose, poetry, written word, and story telling of years of pain and grief. You feel like you are sitting across from the author as he tells and sings these memories on and off the reservation. Could not stop reading as he let's you enter the darkness and light of his traveling soul. What a journey. Enjoy.

I've long been a fan of Mr. Alexie. As an urban Potawatomi woman l relate to a lot of what he writes about. I know only a few words in my Native tongue. My father kept me away from my rez family for a reason I have never known but somehow through Sherman's writing begin to grasp. I tell my family's stories in poetry and therein find my reality.

This was initially an interesting memoir, but when I was half way through, I had had enough and quit reading. Maybe there was good stuff in the second half, but I did not want to find out. That from someone who is very interested in how White European culture has damaged every other culture they have contacted.

I liked the mixture of prose and poetry but felt there was a lot of redundancy in the chapters.
I had to read some things over a couple of times to get the connections straight and to follow the story tro the end.
At the end I felt sad for the people the author described but felt good that the author found it in himself to talk about the hardships he has endured to
bring his life where it is today.

I was really disappointed in this book. My two star rating isn't necessarily for the quality of the writing (it's good) but it wasn't what I was expecting. It's not really a memoir - to me it read more like a serious of short stories and poems. I'm not a big poetry lover, and I really wanted to read a cohesive narrative - the author has had a rich, heartbreaking, fascinating life but this is not the way I wanted to read about it. It feels too disjointed to me and I don't think I'll be able to finish it.

I wanted to like this book—the subject sounded interesting and insightful—but I didn’t. I found it to be disjointed, rambling, repetitive, whiny and self-indulgent. The bad poetry made the book so hard to read that I often had to stop and put the book down. I contemplated not finishing it but slogged through, thinking it would get better. It didn’t. A dysfunctional childhood and issues with a mother you expected to be perfect but wasn’t—ground-breaking. It felt like a walk through a mentally ill person’s head—oh wait, it was. People grieve in different ways and grief often is very disjointed and rambling; however, he should have worked that out first with this therapist and written something that would better honor his past and his relationship with his mother.

An ode to mother and a requiem for the pain from all the travesties that converged for this one human. He spoke to me. He is honest and real and he and his family live because he wrote this book. May we all heal someday.

I honestly found the book difficult to finish because it didn’t hold my attention. Storyline was all over the place and many interruptions with random chapters of poetry. Not my style of writing even though I related to the author.

It’s a different read but compelling. Brutally and uncomfortably honest. I admire that in a writer but still could not keep myself from cringing. I would advise that you flip through to some of the poetry which is raw but kind of fascinating too. His style of repetition comes across as an eruption, something that’s begging to be told, bursting out of him.

Why didn't the kindle edition include the family photos advertised as part of this book? I loved the book but feel cheated. Alexie Sherman's stirring poems, essays, and narrative leave no stone unturned regarding his relationship with his mother. Be prepared for a roller coaster ride as you read this. It's heartbreaking, funny, sad, and enlightening, especially with regard to the plight of our Native Americans.

Sherman Alexie, an American Indian who is embraced by most whites, focuses on the racists he has encountered in his life. Based on the “facts” in his memoir, those in his own tribe, including his mother, offended him the most. He says over and over that he “escaped” how the people on the Rez live, so who’s the racist?

I wanted to like this book, I really did. But I simply did not and for several reasons. 1) I did not at all care for the way the author intermixed poetry and chapters. There would be a few regular chapters, then a few chapters of poetry. It really broke up the read for me and I felt it was really distracting. Plus, I hate poetry. 2) There were a few portions of the book that were literally copied and pasted into latter chapters to the point when when I read a copied portion, I thought to myself, maybe I accidentally swiped to a previous chapter on the Kindle? Nope, it was just word for word repetitive. 3) I get that the author has had literary success, but does he need to reiterate that? He literally says "my award winning novel" and refers to a previous book. Who does that?! It just sounded boastful and tacky. 4) He also, on numerous occasions, commented about how he had money and he could afford this and that. One specific example was when he was going to pay for his mother's funeral, he said he had the cash to pay it in full, but put it on his credit card to get the airline miles. It just didn't need to be said. 5) Lastly, the chapter that totally turned me off. He talked about using the bathroom in the funeral home. He graphically described this whole pooping episode. I'll spare you the details because it was gross. I am not easily offended or grossed out and totally appreciate that sometimes unpleasant topics are covered in books as integral parts of the story. But this was absolutely disgusting and so necessary to effect the story. Don't waste your time or money. I truly wish I could get a refund.

I thought there were a couple chapters of this book that were extraordinary writing, up there with my best all-time fiction I've read. I also enjoyed the hell out of Alexie's "Flight" which is one of my all-time favorite novels. But this memoir is a bit of a mess. I like the concept of interspersing poetry with narrative, and also the tribute to Alexie's mother. But it's all a little bit much. Lots of repeated stuff and things that just needed to be weeded out.

I think the idea was that the book was supposed to be sort of like a chant. Pieces of emotion and stories put together like a quilt to add up to a resonating whole. Alexie is a good enough writer to hold me on until the end but it was touch and go.

Alexie's mom was a bit of a trickster and I think Alexie has some of that in him too. I got the feeling that at times he was playing around with his reader a little bit. Making us work for it. Maybe I'm a little jaded. I agree with other reviewers that say this book is self-indulgent. He's going to grieve how he wants and we've got to put up with the hard edges.

I'll still look out for Alexie's next book. He's a helluva writer. He's funny, casual, and smart as hell, and not afraid to reveal is vulnerable sides, which I think is a real gift to the reader.

I am a big fan of Sherman Alexie's fiction and absolutely love this memoir. I was deeply moved by how he portrayed his relationship with his mother. (I also very much appreciate that he was so open and forthcoming about his experience with mental illness.) I feel he did a beautiful job of portraying the myriad emotions he experienced - love, resentment, admiration, grief - "the full catastrophe," as Zorba the Greek once famously said. I highly recommend this book to anyone who has had a challenging and complicated relationship with their mother - and haven't we all?

The author complains most of the time about his mother and his love-hate relationship with her. Lots of artsy/fartsey poems as well. Athough I think the author has an interesting history and upbringing, I did not care for him wasting the readers time with his personal lamentings and whining. Would not recommend unless you are someone who like odd prose.

Audiobook:
The intensity
The ferociousness
The vibrancy
The power
The effectiveness
The aggressiveness
and PASSION..........in which Sherman Alexie reads his memoir sizzles-and burns with such force - at times 'just listening' to Alexie speak felt comparable to being in the stands with 150,000 screaming fans at Laguna Seca watching NASCAR drivers.

THIS BOOK IS *EVERYTHING* the blurb says it is and 100 times MORE!!!

I CRIED ... oh I cried... I swear it's not my fault: SHERMAN ALEXIE ABUSED ME .... HE DID IT TO ME... HE 'made' me cry: meanie!!!

I LAUGHED .... I laughed so hard a few times... I'm laughing as I type this just thinking about what I laughed at.

This is one - if not - THE - most incredible Memoir-audiobooks I've 'ever' listened to.

Elysejody

I don't understand the good reviews. On almost every page, a person's race is mentioned. Why does it matter that the undertaker was white? That's when I stopped reading, on page 60 something. That's also after skipping a bunch of pages. The story doesnt even flow nicely, he's always jumping all over the place. Normally, I don't write reviews until I finish a book, but I know I will NEVER even try this book again. It's going in a garage sale, hopefully I can be rid of it for a dollar.

It would be a dull world if we all liked the same things. I differ from the majority of the people who have read this book. I did not like it. Why? Alexie writes ok but I have read writing I prefer. Currently, Ron Rash, in the past the excellent writing of John O'Hara. As I read between the lines I kept seeing the word JERK. I did not find Alexie likable. Even he admits that he is not always liked. And he probably does not care! I objected to his reference to his wealth. One time would be ok, but many times. If he is truly bipolar, life is not easy and if both he and his mom were bipolar it is understandable why they did not get along. I found the bathroom story gross, funny but gross. I felt the anger in Alexie. The story of the wrinkled shirt was Alexie using his pen to get the last word with Xavier. I too felt the "break" in concentration when he changed to poetry. Both the prose and the poetry are well done but the organization was not to my taste. Life WAS hard for Alexie. And his physical problems made it even harder.
My "take" is that he loved his mom but did not much like her.

Although I liked this book and thought it was beautifully written, I can't rate it more highly since I found the author's mother so unlikable. I was quite disturbed by his description of an incident with a cat. I also would have liked more prose and less poetry.

The best memoir I have ever read. I work in Washington State hospitals and serve many patients that are from the reservations Alexie speaks of. I also worked for years with Navajo and Pueblo patients and inmates in New Mexico. No one else writes with such passion, humor and honesty about modern Native American life in the US. I am not done reading, but this book is devastating, hilarious, profane, grotesque, searingly beautiful, lovingly tender, deeply confessional and spiritual. Alexie just cancelled a tour because his psyche is so overwhelmed by these memories. The craziness, and all its glory found on the reservation, is true. The endless tragedies wrought by alcoholism, drug addiction, spousal abuse and crime are made so real for us that at least for me, I have to stop reading a page, take a breath and cry a little. I know people like this. His use of his own poetry makes the prose all the more intense, for his poems are more "truthful" on an existential plane than any mere facts. This writer and relatively young man is a national treasure, and those picky religious persons that (tried to) ban his earlier books from schools, will never get it, at least not until they hold the hand of a dying 80 year old and glorious storyteller from Yakima or Colville Reservation, succumbing to self-inflicted liver failure, as I have done. Bless Sherman's own healing and deep thanks to him for his incredible courage. One for the ages.

This book started out very absorbing and enjoyable. Unfortunately, part way through, Mr. Alexie shifted the "Profanity Drive" into high gear and the book rapidly degenerated into something utterly unreadable. I was so interested in his life, his mother, his family and his experiences as a Native American Indian that it's extremely disappointing to see such a talented and unique author fail to express himself without the use of excessive foul language. Some sections became so chock full of F-bombs (every single sentence in some areas), the S-word and similar that I simply couldn't take any more and had to quit reading halfway through. Deeply, deeply disappointing.

This is probably the first book on CD that I stopped listening to and will probably not even pass it on to any of my friends. I listened to the first few CDs so I really think I can it a fair chance. First of all, the author should not read the book for the CD version; I think it probably would have been much better if I had read it in book form. Secondly, the language and the subject content was irritating and somewhat disgusting. I don't usually mind foul language or even graphic explanations but this was over the top for me and, I think, unnecessary.

If I had been able to continue listening I may have been able to glean the message intended but, after continually screaming at my CD player, decided the message wasn't worth my time or the agony.

I would like to say to those who read this book but did not understand the way it was written... if you can ... get the audible copy and listen to it. When he reads it ... you get it ... you feel it ....and it will break you open, allow you to do your own soul searching and maybe heal some stuff. The repetition is part of the poetry and prose. He is openly vulnerable and not afraid to be. Vulnerability is both a curse and a blessing. With it you open yourself to pain, without it you are a closed unfeeling human being who will not be able to heal those things which can help you to grow. This is without a doubt the best Memoir I have ever read. Yes .. it is terribly raw, brutally honest and although there is humor, there is great pain and sadness too. I listened to Sherman narrate ... I heard the humor in his voice, the pain in his voice, the love in his voice and the deep deep sadness in his voice. I thank you Sherman Alexie for your honesty, for laying bare your deepest long hidden most painful experiences and allowing us to share in your healing and I pray you will find the writing of this beautiful memoir and tribute to your mother a magically freeing experience for your soul and your heart. I am listening again for a second time. It was that moving and beautiful. It is also a window into life on a reservation. One that we should all see.

This memoir surprised me. I was surprised how open, honest and free Sherman was in this novel. I am not one who follows celebrities, reads celebrity magazines to be in- the-know or digs into their past so I know all the juicy gossip so when Sherman starts to talk about his personal life in this memoir, I was amazed to know that his life was less than ideal. I appreciated his openness and his wiliness to share his life with his readers.

He talks a lot about his mother, hence the title and the picture on the cover, inside this novel as she was a unique individual. She was an alcoholic just like his father, only she quit drinking before her death. She knew the ways, the customs, and the stories from the old world, she was their connection to the past and now that she has passed away, their connection is lost. A connection, that they can never replace. At the funeral, Sherman comes to the realization that there were two sides to his mother and this awareness adds flames to the fire that is burning in Sherman over his mother. He has lost her, lost more than he originally thought. He has chosen to live off the rev all these years and that is something that he cannot take back. Again, it is the emotions, the anger, the love and the confusion that runs through these pages that allows me to see his family and how they dealt with life. Sherman’s phrasing repeated over and over again, his “sometimes you just don’t know” comments repeated throughout the novel because in reality, you just don’t know and it’s okay to admit it. I enjoyed how his family size grew as they helped out each other and how their relatives knew they could count on each other in times of need.

I found the following parts of the novel especially heartfelt: When Sherman talks about racism, I could feel his pain in his writing. As Sherman mentions the nurses when he was sick, I especially enjoyed this because sometimes we forget these important people in our lives. I cannot forget the waltz his mother did with his sister. Tears were forming in my eyes as I read this short chapter. After accidently spilling water on her as she was getting a drink, his sister stood their morphine-drugged mother up to change her clothing and sheets. As the sister instructed her where to step and how many steps, mother swayed. ““It’s okay,” our mother said. “I’m dancing on purpose. I want to dance. Dance with me.” It was three in the morning but our mother was awake and she shuffled left and right. “Oh,” our mother said. “We are dancing. It’s been so long since I danced. And I don’t know why nobody asked me. I was a good dancer.” My sister laughed. She was alone in the night with our mother. There was no music. But my sister held our mother closely and shuffled with her. They moved in the smallest of circles. “We only danced for a few seconds,” my sister later said. “But, all the next day, whenever she was awake and had visitors, Mom kept bragging that she’d danced until sunrise.”” I loved this.

The memoir consists of short chapters of poems and narratives. It is a big book, a book that I really enjoyed. Thanks again Sherman, thanks for being one of us.

Sorry for what may be taken as a slur. But in the age of transparent, though maybe well intentioned, identity politics it is inspiring to have someone who honestly characterizes his own identity group. I wonder whether Alexie is admired by his peers or hated for the ethnic faults he reveals. Although it is interesting that there are TV serials which portray similar things. See Netflix’s Skywalkers or Longmire.

Alexie is a poet, is an autobiographer. He explores his inner world and the great ambiguities that his origins and his success create. The world out of which he emerges when he enters a white high school is one of drunkenness, poverty, violence and death. My brother once anguished about the native community which he lived near on and off for more than forty years, “I don’t think I can attend one more funeral for a suicide or drunken accident.” It makes you want to cry. Alexie’s fellow Spokanes are always dying. His mother survives only because she quits drinking.

So where does the fault lie. Alexie mentions many of the standard arguments: defeat of hunter-gatherers, betrayal by whites, physical attacks, the reservation system, poor schools, poor health care, deracination. These are peoples who suffer enormous ptsd. But he also refers to personal responsibility. Members of every identity group are familiar with the things they say among themselves but would never say to an outsider. I can tell you about the bigotry in my Jewish upbringing which we would never share with the goyim. In what I think is the best thing Alexie has written, an essay about him accidentally killing a young black home invader, he coins the expression, Ethnocidal Olympics. We Jews, of course, won that Olympics: they even taught courses at the Jewish university where I professed for 30 years, that the Holocaust (zealous Jews feel they are the only people entitled to the cap. H.) was the worse thing that ever happened to any peoples at any time in history. From my point of view such courses are obscene. So for all the good things that Alexie portray about his natal home, it is the troubling ones which seem prominent. Of course what the question which lingers in the background is of how do we change it all. And who the we are.

Oppression is tough, but sometimes insiders don’t help as the native student who walks out of his writing class after trying to out Indian him. Or the claims of identity groups who won’t acknowledge their own drawbacks even though they are evident to others and are used by their opposition to attack them. Alexie even points out the contradictions of native casinos about which I have never found an honest appraisal. He claims that the casinos have imported the dominant class system into native culture leading to all the inequities of white society. He sees this as ironic. Native Americans by insisting on economic privilege have adopted the very system from which they claim they are different. this has led to rich natives, poor natives, expulsion from tribes and who knows what else. It would be interesting if he wrote about that, but he is a writer of the personal and that would take a journalist, a muck raker, or an anthropologist. But then what is my perverse interest in other people’s flaws. Well, certainly I make no exception for “my people.” I fight where I can against their violence and corruption. Where are the revolutionaries who do not hide behind, “ well you can understand our anger because of what was done to us.” Even the Dalai Lama who wants to base his claims for Tibet on the “truth,” a word that Buddhist use often, is not ruthlessly honest about his people.

Thank you Sherman for your brutal honesty and poetry.

Charlie Fisher

Sherman Alexie’s memoir is mired with pain and grief
A story of life on the Spokane Rez, where abuse, addiction, and poverty brought zero reprieve
From the harsh realities and traumas, of him and many others
Which all came into focus upon the death of Alexie’s mother

Alexie had a complicated relationship with his mother, and in many situations
She was a terrible parent who lied a lot, was neglectful to her kids, and was better to other people’s families than her own, which brought Alexie to a revelation...

That Alexie’s mother’s death brought her life and his relationship with her into focus, along with the grief
Which brought solace to him but to the reader, little relief

Life is stranger than fiction, and Alexie’s self-reflection became a quest
But he lost direction because life is harder to write than fiction, which is what he does best

“You don’t have to say you love me” could have been cut by 200 pages
The manic framework and lack of cohesion dragged on for ages
A substantial amount of work went into talking about himself
His career, his notoriety, and his wealth
Pretty narcissistic and redundant, as it was three pages before
I couldn’t figure out whether the book was one of confessional poetry or a rambling ode to a dead mother, but I found reading it a chore

Which is sad, because “You don’t have to say you love me” had the potential to be more

This book was difficult to read. I like Sherman Alexie but his memoir on the relationship was repetitive. He did not develop his mother's
personality well enough, and he focused more on his own feelings which is fine, but he went on and on. Plus as a writer, he seemed to forget
how to use words and reverted to slang, swear words to express his anger. His poetry or prose poetry was repetitive. I was truly disappointed.
He could have interviewed different people who knew his mother to fill in what he did not know about her, so the reader could understand
his mother. Also, he only saw the negative interaction that he had with her, yet he forgets, that he was not an "angel" growing up.
I would not recommend this book to my friends.

Lots of clever lines expertly written, full of humorous and human prose that is enlightening, but also self indulgent. Skipped over the pages nad pages of bad poetry. This is autobiographical, but not an autobiography. The book is about Sherman Alexie working through the loss of his mother and their conflicted relationship.

Let me open by saying that I owe Sherman Alexie an apology. I have been among the critics whom he confronts in this book about his writing, and we have locked horns a couple of times over issues such as whether or not drunken Indian characters are stereotypical or realistic portrayals in Indigenous fiction. That was before I read "You don't have to say you love me...", which has answered a great number of my questions and revealed to me how naive I have been. I still don't understand everything, no one but the author can, but I have much greater insight into what has fueled his writing, and the sources of his smart ass humor and cynical approaches. If you look at the numerous reviews of this work, a surprising number of the 1 and 2 star reviews reveal near total ignorance of reservation life and how Indian people see the world. Some claim he is negative about his mother and whines and complains. These statements are untrue, he is very sensitive, and if you pay close attention, it is obvious how much he cares (and cared) about his mother, how much she meant to him. Others claim his mother is unlikable, largely because she allegedly killed a cat and a horrible way as a child, but such attitudes fail to consider how much pain there was in her life and how this can numb children so they act out. More of these people complain about his supposed "white bashing" and "political correctness". This is absurd, few writers are less politically correct, and he is very sympathetic in his portrayals of individual white people, especially his classmates and teachers in the high school where he was one of few Indian students. He is also very critical of contemporary Indian people, which was the source of my original, incorrect, criticisms. Anyone who doubts this needs only read The Absolutely True Diary of a Part Time Indian, henceforth (ATDPTI), where he discusses the acts of kindness directed his way by a variety of white people, and is both critical and heartbroken considering his portrayal of the Spokane Indian Reservation where he was born and grew up. To me, one of the highlights of "You don't have to say..." is his discussion of rules for successful life on an Indian Reservation, which is both true and heartbreaking. He discusses ATDPTI in this book, pointing out that it is the most banned and challenged book in America (It is, I checked), so he is not bragging. I strongly suspect that the primary motive for attacking this book is the chapter Valentine Heart, which is to me, the best chapter in the ATDPTI. In this chapter, he discusses his reaction to the shooting death of his Father's best friend, and if you Read ATDPTI, his surrogate father in many ways, by being scatologically blasphemous in his anger at God and Jesus (read it, it is hilarious if you understand the nature of grief). At least he isn't Bill O'Reilly, who is currently angry at God because of his own lack of self discipline and accountability. Alexie's grief is at least partially abated by his white classmates standing up for him in a dramatic way against a critical teacher. Sherman isn't perfect, but he is a damned good writer, and in this book he has produced a masterpiece about loss, grief, and redemption.

Sherman Alexie opens his modern masterpiece, “You Don’t Have to Say You Love Me,” by teasing his reader with the shocking admission that he was sexually abused by males on his Indian reservation as a boy.

He spends the next several hundred pages dancing around this painful humiliation by discussing every other abuse of himself and his family and his tribe without discussing the details of his own rape at all.

In stark contrast, he discusses his mother’s rape—in detail—and in several places in this confessional memoir.

Given this painful memory and many others, and given Alexie’s extraordinary survival of multiple brain and skull operations, you tend to forgive such omissions in a book that details so much other pain.

Thematically, this memoir could be called the rape of the Indians (and Alexie invokes the word “Indian” and not “Native American,” perhaps because it is a less awkward term linguistically when you are invoking the identity several hundred, or several thousand, times, in a book) for it makes clear that the white man’s cruel segregation of his people on reservations has created a culture of abuse among the tribes themselves out of frustration, anger, and humiliation.

Yet Sherman Alexie the polished writer is making clear in these pages that the pen is mightier than the sword. There may be a kind of forgiveness in his retelling of the racism he received growing up from whites, but there is no forgetting. The vivid detail in which this skilled writer repeats the insults of his childhood is invoked against the real, flesh and blood people who committed these sins, and their identities are barely disguised in the retelling.

Alexie, and two of his sisters, had the fortune to be accepted at white public schools, obviously academically superior to reservation schools. There he blossomed, as basketball player, debater, and excellent student. There, he muses years later, he was mainly accepted because he brought the school success as an athlete, scholar, and later, as a famous writer. He implies that probably would not have been the case if he had not been a star and had not turned out to be a world famous author.

The other main theme of the memoir is his painful relationship with his mother, whose caustic tongue hurt his feelings deeply as a child. Much of the book is an attempt to make up with his mother, who he admits he punished in return by refusing to talk to her for years, not an uncommon exile for child and parent who hurt each other.

Clearly Alexie’s mother was the glue who held the family together and he admits he was far easier on his father because, being absent or drunk, took little responsibility in disciplining the children, which meant in return, receiving little criticism for administering any discipline, or abuse. Alexie makes clear the sacrifices his mother made in order to feed her children and keep them alive, and at long last, he is deeply grateful. And deeply torn because of the emotional pain he feels toward his mother. Indeed his mother remains the person who haunts Alexie the most, particularly in his dreams, and Alexie says he has been cursed with incessant dreaming and dreams his entire life.

Although it is also probably true that Alexie owes much of his literary output to those painful dreams.

Make no mistake about it. Sherman Alexie is a literary genius and, given the death of most of the major American writers of the 20th century, or the failure to produce recent works, such as in the case of John Irving, he is fast rising into the pantheon of major American writers.

Since I have not yet read Alexie’s National Book Award winning story, “The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian,” I probably have no business placing Alexie in such high regard based on one book. And yet I do.

“You Don’t Have to Say You Love Me” is both a simple book in construction and a sophisticated book in construction. Autobiographies come with the built in advantage that most readers are interested in them, most willing to avidly follow you contemplate your navel both literally and figuratively. Therefore Alexie moves his story along with the personal.

At the same time there is sophistication when Alexie interweaves poetry with prose, dialogue with narrative, dreams and fantasies alongside historical documentation of the mistreatment of Indians. At times this interweaving of poetry and prose becomes too clever by half, and Alexie is clearly proud of his linguistic gymnastics, which at times are offered up at the expense of making clear his ideas and thoughts. In an effort at pun or modernity, Alexie has an irritating habit of using the word "rez" as an abbreviation for reservation, a usage that grated on my ears.

Yet these imperfections are mentioned to remind the reader what a first rate work this book is. You don’t quibble with second rate books any more than you quibble with second rate presidents. You ignore them.

Yes, Alexie was finishing up this book just as Donald Trump had revived the racist world of Jim Crow and he is not bashful about holding Trump’s racism up to ridicule. He speculates that many of his former classmates and friends around Spokane, where he grew up, voted for Trump, and he is unsparing in his disapproval.

This breezy review, I’m afraid, does not do justice to the powerful impact that Alexie’s writing will have on you. His humiliation, the humiliation of his fellow Indians on reservations, is a brutal story. And Alexie tells that brutal story with an unrivaled power and literary talent.

[Hansen Alexander’s new book, an the store exclusive, is HOW THE LIONS ATE TIM TEBOW.]

“You Don’t Have to Say You Love Me’ (2017 publication; 463 pages) is a memoir by noted author Sherman Alexie on his upbringing on the Spokane Indian reservoir and his complicated relationship with his mom. The books opens with a dinner party that his parents are giving in their small HUD house in the early 70s, when the author was 6 or 7 years old, and how things get out of hand, on multiple levels. It is the first glimpse we get into the life of an Indian-American family growing up very poorly on a reservation. In between the lines, at some point later, the author makes clear that his recollection of events may not be perfect, even though “I remember everything”.

The book goes back and forth between the “today” (when his mother is in her dying days in 2015) and the author’s life and times growing up on the reservation. Along the way, the author at times diverts stylistically and changes into poetry for a chapter here and there, for no discernable reason. Along the way, the author treats us to observations like this one: “Yes, there was a three year span where my mother and I did not speak to each other. But I cannot remember exactly why we stopped speaking to each other. And I do not remember the moment when we forgave each other and resumed out lifelong conversation.”, wow.

Beware: this book is dense and this isn’t something you’re going to rip through in a couple of hours or even days. It took me a good 2 weeks to finish it, reading a couple of chapters an evening, and then resuming the next day. But it ultimately makes for a very redeeming book, and one in which the author doesn’t hold back anything and lays all on the line. If you like memoirs, I’d readily recommend you see this out.

In Sherman Alexie’s memoir, You Don’t Have to Say You Love Me, he talks openly about many things: his health – he was born hydrocephalic and suffered a brain tumor in adulthood; his struggles with alcoholism and mental illness – he is bipolar; his life growing up on a Reservation – the poverty, the abuse both sexual and physical, as well as substance abuse, the bullying, and about how so many of his childhood friends and, yes, bullies died young; his decision to attend school off the reserve where he was the only Native kid and how it affected the rest of his life; his father, a binge drinker whom he loved unconditionally; his sisters, his wife, his writing, and his success as a writer.

But most of all, he tries to come to terms with the complicated relationship between him and his mother, Lillian, after her death. Lillian was a very complicated woman. She was, like her son, bipolar and was, in Alexie’s words, ‘salmon-cold and pathologically lied’. But she was also willing to make sacrifices for her children – an alcoholic, she gave up drinking when she saw the effect it was having on them and she supported Sherman’s decision about schooling against his father’s objections. But when he is beaten up by a bigger white boy on the reserve, she refuses to do anything. He describes in a poem how he felt safe with her’ almost half the time’.

"Mom protected me from cruelty
Three days a week"

She may have been the result of rape as well as the victim of it herself. But, as Alexie points out repeatedly she is a compulsive liar or perhaps, more kindly, like him, she is a storyteller and she has told a different version of her life to her daughters than to Sherman. He does, however, choose to believe the one she told him. But she supported the family for years with her quilting and was also one of the last true native speakers of the Salish language - she chose not to teach it to her kids and he realizes the depth of what is lost after her death.

Alexie’s relationship with his mother often broke down and they frequently stopped talking for long periods of time. He has little good to say about her and yet, despite this or perhaps because of it, his deep and profound grief at her death is present on every page. It is clear that he realizes that they were more alike than different and he misses even all the bad things about her.

Throughout the book, he switches between poetry and prose even occasionally moving from one to the other in the same paragraph. You Don’t Have to Say You Love me is a beautiful, profound, and profoundly moving story about being Native American, about being a writer but most of all about grief and the complicated love/hate relationship between him and his mother.

Thanks to Netgalley and Little, Brown and Company for the opportunity to read this book in exchange for an honest review

In this expanded memoir Sherman Alexie reveals much more about his childhood, young adult and adult years than he has ever expressed before. In it there is the constant theme of grieving for his recently departed mother. She lives in him and he lives in her. She was the last woman to speak fluent Salish, but never taught it to her children. You can't read this story without recognizing the terrible abuse that generations of Natives have imposed on themselves and their children. Alexie was born with hydrocephalus that required brain surgery at the age of two and he took seizure medications for years. It also affected his speech and normal development. He was taunted by other Reservation children and finally went to a high school 22 miles from his own home. He was able to go to college and become a writer, but always carried the scars of a poor relationship with his bipolar mother, the poverty of his early life and his alcoholic father. The theme always returns to the complicated relationship with his mother and trying to understand her duplicitous life. This could be a difficult read for someone who has experienced abuse in their own life. It does give insight into the lives of Reservation Indians. I read a library copy of this book.

This is a highly unusual memoir, one very difficult to describe. I had real difficulty figuring out how to write about my reading experience.

The book will offend some readers because of his considerable use of the f-word. It will offend others because of the devastating sections on white folks' treatment of Indians over time, on the reservation, in schools and elsewhere. It will offend some liberal readers because of sections that blame Indians for some of their own misery. It may offend others as he describes escaping from the reservation, going to a white school and musing on how he was accepted and yet the small town the school was in voted for Trump (Alexie is a fearsome liberal).

Me, I found it touching, devastating, sometimes boring and repetitive (especially some of the poetry). It's themes around the death of his mother, around her life and around her relationship with Sherman. The family manages to be loving, dysfunctional and sometimes destructive, like his portrayal of reservation life. This includes alcoholism, bullying, rape, overdoses, abandonment and death too young. And how he (Alexie) grew up in it, managed to survive.

There's also content about his wife--who seems to be the center that holds the brilliant and complex Alexie together. Alexie muses on writing and his writing career, and the reaction of earlier friends and townsfolk. And about his family. His father died of alcoholism, was in prison twice, once for burglary and once for forgery. His mother was an alcoholic but one day simply stopped--and probably saved her family. Alexie himself is diagnosed as bipolar, and has had brain surgery more than once.

His mother was a fierce woman, fierce in her likes and dislikes, opinionated, and a kind of godmother to many. She was both abusive and proud of him (Alexie). They fought. And in the end, Sherman Alexie's memoir is a meditation on fierce love.

I was so excited about this book. I grew up near a reservation and had lots of native friends.

I couldn't finish this book. I got tired of him hinting and an interesting fact but never telling any details. It's as if he said, 'I've got a really great story, but I can't bring myself to tell it to you...it's too personal." I held out hoping he would break and spill his guts but two thirds the way through another memoir came across my path and I gave up on this one with a sigh of relief.

While I appreciate the few details he gave they were not enough to make me stay. The poems, while some funny and informative, annoyed me. I'm a firm believer that only a few people should write poetry beyond high school. And even then, keep them out of your memoir.

I'm sorry I didn't like it more. But the reader who loves a memoir wants to know and feel what the writer went though. We want to leave our safe place and step into your situation... the more uncomfortable the better. He failed to do that. And he acted like he was doing us a favor.

Sherman Alexie, author of popular books The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian and The Lone Ranger and Tonto Fistfight in Heaven wrote You Don't Have to Say You Love Me as a way to process the death of his mother, Lillian, at age 78. His relationship with his mother is complicated. Lillian wasn't the most likable person... But Alexie so beautifully reveals who his mother was---the good and the bad---that by the end of the book I felt like I knew her, understood her, and could even easily empathize with her.

The book is half poetry, half prose, and 450 pages of straight grief. It's one of the most beautiful books I've ever read, and I pretty much cried the whole way through. Alexie is honest and insightful---sometimes biting, but then also so full of grace and acceptance it's heartbreaking. There is so much feeling in here. Just page after page of raw sadness and vulnerability. Alexie is able to cut the heaviness somewhat with humor, but this book is still a giant heap of SORROW.

In my opinion, You Don't Have to Say You Love Me is the best book Alexie has ever written. It's a roller coaster of emotion to be sure, but it's definitely worth reading.

For me, this was a very powerful book. I'm so glad that I read it! I know that it was much more difficult, emotionally, for Sherman Alexie to write than it was for me to read. Even so, I was not able to read very much at a time before I needed to take a break and think about what I had just read.

I read a few of the 1-star reviews to see what issues they had with this book. One person asked why the author didn't document the Spokane language if they thought it was so important. I often ask myself why I didn't learn Swedish from my grandmother. No one was threatening Swedish Americans who spoke their native tongue. But she didn't offer to teach me, and she died before it occurred to me to ask her. Like the native Hawaiian people, native Americans were robbed of their culture, including their languages, by people who thought that things would be better if everyone was "more like us". (Which horror movie is it that has the line "one of us, one of us, we will make you one of us"?) Many aspects of their culture were even illegal to do. Religious freedom? Not so much! "...Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness..."? Not so much! How boring it would be if we were all the same! So much has been lost! Can you imagine a world where the only flavor that was allowed was vanilla? It's a nice flavor, but... I'd rather enjoy and embrace the differences!

I just finished the audio version of this memoir, which Sherman Alexie narrates, and I highly recommend listening to it if possible. (Most libraries should have it.) This is one of the few books that have ever made me cry. But it also made me laugh! I enjoyed listening to Sherman read his poetry, talk with sing-song Native American accents, laugh and even cry as he read this book. I appreciate Sherman's humor and raw vulnerability, as well as his ability to delve into complex matters like family, modern Native American culture and living on the rez. Most of all, I could resonate with the struggle of being human and overcoming adversity. Thank you Sherman!

I couldn't read only but a few chapters. Book was just AWFUL. It may have been a memoir but author needed a lot of help in writing his story. It was as if I were reading just one very long run on sentence.

I was halfway through Sherman Alexie’s You Don’t Have to Say You Love Me: A Memoir when I heard the NPR report about his repeated sexual aggression. It was several days before I could go back to reading the book, incorporating that knowledge. I already knew of Alexie’s anger at the mistreatment of Indians. In his memoir, I learned about his being personally abused too. Neither justifies his abuse toward women. However, I read the book for his insights into his troubled relationship with his mother. My late mother was also a difficult person, so this was an area where I found it easier to empathize with Alexie. He speaks eloquently of his ambivalence toward this significant person, feelings that will never be resolved. However, honest memoirs like his can help fellow travelers on an endless journey toward greater understanding, levels of forgiveness, and letting go while still holding on.

“live to be an old man whose rib cage is a haunted house built around his heart.”

I have enjoyed Sherman Alexie’s writing for a long time. This memoir is so brutally honest. Many times I’ve had to put the book down and walk away. So many passages just bring me to tears. There is so much power and honesty in these pages. This book simply deepens my love for Sherman Alexie.

Not many books leave me speechless. Usually I devour books, not walk away. This is so powerful that I must read it in small bites.

This is like the Native American version of Hillbilly Elegy. A friend recommended this book so I read it. I hadn't heard of Sherman Alexie before. The book was incredibly insightful and many parts were fascinating. My reason in rating four instead of five stars is because there was too much repetition of several stories. It is something I don't care for in books. I think an editor should have cut some of the repetitive stuff out. If I read about something fifty or one hundred pages ago, I didn't forget it. No need to rehash and rehash it. And there was a certain vagueness in some of Sherman's stories. For example, he mentions spreading rumors in school about a female bully but doesn't divulge what he actually said. He is rather forthcoming about so many other details in his life, sometimes revealing things I really don't need to know, but leaves out other details that would be more relevant. Overall, I am very glad to have read the book.

Growing up in general is tough work, but growing up on the reservation with a recalcitrant mother and gentle but alcoholic father had to almost impossible. Alexie's memoir is a story of how language, both written and spoken, gave him the courage to the leave the rez and become an accomplished writer and performer. His book is a coming to terms with his exodus and the difficult relationship Alexie had with his mother. And it is a book about loss, about a sister who died in a fire, a father who succumbed to alcoholism, and a mother who, as one of the last speakers of Salish, took the language and the stories of the elders with her. Alternating between prose stories of his growing up and poetry of defiance, Alexie has written a sad book about a life made unnecessarily hard by our shameful treatment of Native Americans.

Sherman Alexie's brutal honesty was painful to read at times, but refreshing in that he did not color coat the truth about many difficult things in his life, and the lives of his family members. The book was thought provoking,and it was the first time that I really grasped the truth about how the disappearance of salmon has impacted Native American tribes and their cultures. Loss and grief are difficult. There is so much loss and grief in our lives.Loss of love, loss of our loved ones, loss of our innocence, and loss of our cherished ways of life. Poetry is a powerful art form, and Alexie uses it well in this memoir. Most people are complicated, with multiple strengths and weaknesses. This book captures the love and the sorrows that this creates for their loved ones.

I experienced the audiobook version of this book, mainly because I knew I'd want to hear Alexie's poetry in his voice...and I'm so glad I did.

While reading this book, I felt like I was sitting across from Alexie, at a picnic table in a park somewhere and my friend was pouring his heart out to me.

His intonation mixed with the dark, slicing words and the cottony, hopeful passages mixed to create a beautiful book that impacted me emotionally, educated me about a culture and made a sincere impact on my humanity.

Probably one of the best memoirs I've had the pleasure to read, definitely one of the best author memoirs.

Superb.

I have read and like several of Sherman Alexie's other books, but this one left me flat. Hard to imagine anyone interested in reading several hundred pages of someone complaining about their lot in life. This memoir pales in comparison to "The Glass Castle." Do yourself a favor and read that if you have yet to do so.

What an effing amazing book. Can we just give Sherman Alexie a Nobel Prize for literature already?! He deserves it. I didn’t expect this book to be such a page turner. I assumed it would be about his difficult relationship with his mother, which it was, and which so many of us can relate to. I expected it to be a sad read, but it wasn’t, and instead I was totally compelled by its raw, honest, humble truths. The utter humanity of his writing is so profound. Grief, anger, loss, gratitude, curiosity, injustice, it's all covered. He says so much between the actual lines, painting vivid pictures in our minds. I liked the poems interspersed with the prose, and felt like I’d been wrapped in a warm blanket of a Salish story, with its repeating, outward spiraling, considered narrative told by a master storyteller. I laughed so loud in parts I probably disturbed my neighbors (the bathroom scene at his mom’s funeral), and the wordsmithing of his life made me thankful to have such a truth teller among us. This man is real, this man is real, this man is real. Thank you Sherman Alexie for being you, and being willing to share your story with the world.

Dear Sherman Alexie: You knocked this one out of the old ball park! Best of your best for sure. I actually started reading it at Noon and finished it at 10 p.m. the same day, with just a brief pause for dinner. Haven't done that with a book in decades. In my over 25 years on the rez., I can say you definitely have it dialed. Many won't understand your book and some of what you write about in it but oh, how the truth does abound in your words. Thank you so very much for this writing. I used to teach your films at the tribal college. This book should have a class all for itself, be the book of the month in a grief support group at the clinic and required reading for all 'helping' professionals. To that end, I certainly will be promoting it. I wish you continued healing in body, mind and spirit.

An indulgent underedited book. I heard the audio version and was often bored and annoyed. I've liked some of Alexie's other work but this felt flabby. Endless repeating. It was like being at coffee with someone who talks on and on--yet you feel stuck with them.

I've liked Alexie's work for over 20 years. But this book just didn't do it for me, essentially for all or most of the reasons written by other reviewers who didn't care for it. I'll continue to read his books, even though some unpleasant allegations, which are none of my business, have recently surfaced in his personal life. It's a shame.

Sherman Alexie is my favorite author and yet again, has failed to disappoint me with his new novel. I can relate to him on so many levels and couldn't put it down. I've always read and watched his interviews and been intrigued by him. I'm glad to have the pleasure of getting a peek into his home life and relate. To the person who rated this book one star: you obviously didn't finish reading the book and obviously aren't Indiginenous or you wouldn't have written the things you wrote.

This book is like being stuck in therapy with an Indian with a grudge. For 12 hours. I didn't finish this because I wanted to. I finished it because when you're so deep into great suffering the only way out is through. There was ONE beautiful chapter. One. And there was so much chaos and lack of flow to this that I can't even tell you which one or what it was about.
Also: found it completely ridiculous to write an entire chapter about a bowel movement.
Also: the only person who should talk about being raped is the rape victim. It is THEIR story to tell and no one else's. There's a reason his mother kept silent and the author violated her privacy. Yes, it DOES matter even if she's gone.
Also: we don't bring wrath on those that left us. It does not let them rest, and they are not there to defend themselves. And doing so speaks more of yourself than of them.
Also: I'm sure the siblings are less than appreciative of the fact their credit standing and the author's financial responsibility for all of them has been made public.
I've never been so disappointed in an author who put out such great prose and poetry and gave us Lone Ranger and Tonto and Indian Killer. He's not only NOT evolved, he's now regressed to things in his childhood that most of us have already moved on from.
If you want a disjointed book that brings up back acne scars in several chapters because one chapter just isn't enough, then have at it.

No one can express it quite like Sherman Alexie! Living with abuse messes up your mind and soul. He gives perspectives from all sides - owning his own dysfunction as well as that of his mother and father. He lets us see all of his emotions including anger, guilt, pain, grief, joy, confusion, playfulness... without pity or condemnation... something many men in western society have been oppressed from revealing so openly. His poetry, his escapes from the “real” world, are imaginative and dream-like, and take you into his trying-to-make-sense world. For myself, it was a blessing to feel a connection with someone who was brought up under similar circumstances.

I compulsively read memoirs, and I'm from Spokane, WA. This book is the best memoir I have ever read. As I read it, my soul grew, and I found myself in tears as my soul was growing. I sat and wept and thought of the people I knew who lived deeply and soulfully and I wished that I could take and gain from their souls. Sherman Alexie bares his soul, history, pain, dreams, poetry, anger, joy, generosity, and love in this book and I urge you to read it. I believe Sherman Alexie Jr. has written the Great American Memoir.

Writing has passages of beauty, no question. But the chapter where he rails against those who are of a politically conservative nature was disquieting and disappointing. He didn't disagree with issues, he just blasted people. I would have thought/hoped that his early experiences with this sort of prejudice would have taught him to not do it himself.
I didn't read any further than the offending chapter, nor will I pick up anything else by Sherman-- I demand emotional and intellectual honesty from those with whom I choose to spend my time.

While I thought it overly long it from
deep in his heart.Have enjoyed just about everything he has written and I have read or seen. His wonderful genius is always evident and so happily coming forth from a native american, the most mistreated people in world history. Keep it going Sherman!

This is the first time I’ve read Sherman’s work and I am amazed. This is a beautiful book. The way he’s able to turn difficult and lovely emotions and experiences into words blows me away - and hits me right in the heart. At the same time. Thank you Mr Alexie.

Sherman tells his story with a mix of narrative and prose. He addresses various topics - some personal, some social- bluntly and with engaging wit. I enjoyed his wisdom and frank descriptions and explanations.

I thought I knew everything about him having read all of his books and seen all of his movies. But he reveals even more here and it is captivating. Want to know more about Natives in this day and age? Read his books. He speaks for us. If I wrote a bio I would be too ashamed to admit the sordid details. But he holds nothing back.

Following along with Alexie's heartwrenching processes affected me deeply. Hearing him go over his incredible challenges and deep feelings, I felt like I had learned something about myself and my own sense of love.

This book is important to me.

Sherman Alexie, thank you for being such an authentic human being. I too have done years of therapy for childhood trauma, and it was so valuable, but one human willing to speak authentically about how hard it is to be a person is worth a hundred sanitized stories about how humans should try to be. Your poem "Painkiller" is going on my wall bc it perfectly evokes how we run from our childhood trauma our whole lives. Never stop telling the truth about being a Native American until we listen and listen and listen and listen.

As I devoured this bittersweet memoir, I felt a hole forming in my heart that only grew until the last page. This was one of the few books I have ever read that left me feeling wounded. Sherman has bravely bared his vulnerability, his scars, to his readers, and has created a deep intimate connection with those that have experienced loss and deep childhood pain. This book is an example of how valuable and sacred it is to speak your truth to others. To take your truth and tear it open, bloody and raw, for people to see, and damn the consequences.

This is a heart wounding book. The power of love to lift and hurt, brave choices made and consequences experienced. Sherman addresses many ‘elephants’ in the room with understanding and clarity. Highly recommend.

Whiny, uninsightful, complaining, repetitive, pointless, narcissistic, and most of all boring. I borrowed this book from the library so I can't ask for my money back. But I want my time back. Alexie aims to become "mythic". His books fails spectacularly. Most of what is good about it you've read before in "Diary of a part-time Indian". The rest is repetitive tripe. He spends a lot of time lambasting the mother who worked her fingers to the bone making quilts to support the family. But his drunken father who abandons them for weeks at a time gets let off the hook. So progressive. I hope her ghost is really haunting his ass -- he deserves to be punished for putting his mother's private pain on narcissistic display. Don't waste your time on this 'Indian du jour'.

It's beyond my capacity to describe and raise this book enough. The juxtaposition of prose and poetry, of humor and suffering, of strength and vulnerability, of raw honesty and confused history and mythical allusions are breathtaking in complexity, irritating while inspiring, and flawlessly written.

I'll read this again and again, but allow time between readings to calm my sense of wonder at such a remarkable piece of writing.

I really, really wanted to love this book. I'm hard pressed to say I even liked it. As another reviewer wrote, the incident involving the cat was horrific and very disturbing. The poetry was boring and way too frequent. I started just skipping over it.

Sherman Alexie has managed to chauffeur me to another place. I am not entirely sure where I am. I am fairly certain I will not return to where I was. He is amazing. Although I will treasure the printed text, I highly recommend the audio version. His actual voice completes the journey. This.

I cannot write this til I check at least one star - I really wanted to give it no star. I found this book extremely disappointing, to say the least. I thought I would learn something from what the reviews say his mother was and his relationship with her - but you don't. You only hear this writer whining and sniveling and I really don't think his mother is the problem - it's him. The dad frequently dumps her with a bunch of kids and goes off on a drinking binge for weeks at a time (using up what little money they had), and she might get a little crabby? Wow. And, he loves the dad and nother the mother - I guess it's because he was a male child. And, I really did not appreciate his self-indulgence in Trump bashing. For what? Saying any immigrant who comes from a country that cannot properly vet should not be allowed to immigrate to America? I lock my doors at night - don't you? Right after this book I read "The Boys in the Boat" and it had me in tears in many places. Both books were in the same locale, both books had dirt poor, bottom rung of the ladder characters and what a contrast between the two. I really want a refund for a book that had not much to do with any review and was a total bust to say the least.

Sherman Alexie has written some of the most beautiful, heart searing things. Sometimes funny, sometimes bitter, almost always insightful - he is and has been a master wordsmith. This book, however, is a mix of touching, and pure self indulgence. And political correctness, Until your teeth hurt. Seriously. If you just can't get enough of the same old PC tropes then you will love this. If you are exhausted of it, like me, then skip this one.

I never write reviews & rarely do I give only one star, but felt compelled to this time. I'll admit, maybe my expectations were to high. I deeply appreciated the author being raw with his emotions. Additionally, I learned valuable information about his background which I appreciated b/c my best friend is Native American. However, in the end I was disappointed. The book was fragmented. Between tangents about the government ruining his people, how terrible his family (for ex, his Mom) was, disliking the republican candidate, throwing in poems constantly, talking about his great literature career..frankly, it was a very bleak memior & didn't read like your typical book. I apologize to the author and anyone reading this review if I've offended you. It's my personal take on the book. I'm ok reading a sad memior, but usually there's an upbeat/sweet meaning you feel at some point or at the end. I didn't get that w/this book. Sorry.

Not written like a typical memoir. He constantly breaks into poetry. Ok if you enjoy poetry. I do not. No specifics on the horrors his mother inflicted on him. Only learned she was "mean". The word "indigenous" was on most every page. Ugh. So exhausting, this book.

Author mentioned his mother was one of four people who still spoke Spokane. He mourns the loss of history and stories the language held. Why didn't he contact a linguist student from a local college to document the language while his mother was alive? Or even now, if one speaker exists? Why didn't he learn it himself? His passivity and grief over the Spokane language don't match.