Women in the Writings of Mari Sandoz ed. by Renée M. Laegreid and Shannon D. Smith (review)

If ever there was a time to acquaint or reacquaint yourself with the writings of Mari Sandoz, this is it. Fortunately, the first volume of a new Sandoz Studies series has recently been published. Edited and with an introduction by Renée M. Laegreid and Shannon D. Smith, the collection draws together critical essays, photographs, and short or excerpted writings by Sandoz herself under the topic and title Women in the Writings of Mari Sandoz. John Wunder's foreword notes that the series was meant in part to be a publication outlet for papers related to the activities of the Mari Sandoz Heritage Society, and several of the essays included in this volume emerged from presentations given at Society meetings. Members of the Society will doubtless be delighted at the success of this first production, but the content of the collection is likely to appeal to anyone interested in Sandoz or topics in western American literature.

Some of the collection's most compelling essays are by the editors themselves. Laegreid's opening piece, whose title, "These Were the Sandhills Women," is a spin on Sandoz's own These Were the Sioux, provides a historical overview of Anglo European women in the settlement and mythos of the Sandhills region. Smith's essay, a companion piece to an excerpt from "What the Sioux Taught Me," situates Sandoz's work within the historiography of Native American studies. Both make clear the ways in which Sandoz was ahead of her time in transcending common stereotypes of women in the West and of Native American culture and history. The collection also includes one of Sandoz's earliest published works, a story titled "The Vine." Following and reflecting on this story is an essay by Lisa Pollard on the kinds of gendered pressure—metaphorical and actual—exerted by drought. An excerpt from Sandoz's Slogum House is paired with a republished Great Plains Quarterly essay by Glenda Riley exploring Sandoz's decision to cast her "will-to-power individual" in that novel as a woman, the vicious and despicable Gulla Slogum (70). An essay by Jillian Wenburg on how Sandoz's female characters fit into or challenge gender binaries and expectations concludes the volume.

Multiple contributors note that Sandoz did not embrace feminism, and the collection does not go out of its way to engage more recent deconstructions of gender identity or explorations of sexuality. Instead the focus is on Sandoz's defiance of the common tropes of her time and her insistence on creating distinct, complex, and often difficult female characters. The selections show the breadth of her depictions, from the homesick Meda ("The Vine") to Gulla and her noble daughter Libby to Sandoz's own encounters with Native American women as she was growing up. These characters and figures respond to the landscape and challenges of the Plains in diverse ways, and the accompanying essays help readers place them in biographical, historical, and historiographical contexts. Several essays feature excerpts from Sandoz's letters that disclose her wit and personality as well as her battles with publishers and, occasionally, readers.

One of the collection's many likable features is its structure. Reproductions of photographs of Sandoz and other Sandhills figures and scenes add engaging breaks between the chapters. Captions connect the images to Sandoz, to the Sandhills, or to the essays that follow. The pairing of Sandoz pieces with critical essays makes the book feel like a dialogue, allowing readers to evaluate the virtues and shortcomings of the essays with direct reference to primary sources. The fine precision of Sandoz's descriptions of people, weather, and landscape combine with the historical and literary analyses and the photographs to create an animated, three-dimensional sense of the Sandhills region. The collection is about women in the writings of Sandoz, but ultimately its most captivating picture is of Sandoz herself, one of the most...