Native American author Joseph Bruchac narrates his novel in verse, capturing all its storytelling qualities on audio. Malian is visiting her grandparents on a Wabanaki reservation when the COVID-19 pandemic shuts down travel. She misses her parents but understands that she, her grandparents, and Malsum, the rez dog, must look after each other. Bruchac speaks slowly and deliberately, as if thoughtfully considering each word. Malian’s voice is kind as she helps her grandparents and gently scolds local boys who are breaking quarantine. Without rancor, her grandparents teach Malian the family’s history, including stories of forced enrollment in Indian residential schools and caring for each other during epidemics of the past. Malsum is a silent but ever-present participant in this gentle story sprinkled with Wabanaki words. L.T. © AudioFile 2021, Portland, Maine
Rez Dogs
Narrated by Joseph Bruchac
Joseph BruchacUnabridged — 1 hours, 35 minutes
Rez Dogs
Narrated by Joseph Bruchac
Joseph BruchacUnabridged — 1 hours, 35 minutes
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Overview
Malian loves spending time with her grandparents at their home on a Wabanaki reservation-she's there for a visit when, suddenly, all travel shuts down. There's a new virus making people sick, and Malian will have to stay with her grandparents for the duration.
Everyone is worried about the pandemic, but Malian knows how to keep her family safe: She protects her grandparents, and they protect her. She doesn't go out to play with friends, she helps her grandparents use video chat, and she listens to and learns from their stories. And when Malsum, one of the dogs living on the rez, shows up at their door, Malian's family knows that he'll protect them too.
Told in verse inspired by oral storytelling, this novel about the COVID-19 pandemic highlights the ways in which Indigenous nations and communities cared for one another through plagues of the past, and how they keep caring for one another today.
**Four starred reviews!**
Boston Globe-Horn Book Fiction & Poetry Honor
NPR Books We Love
Kirkus Reviews Best Books
School Library Journal Best Books
Chicago Public Library Best Fiction for Younger Readers
Jane Addams Children's Book Award Finalist
Nerdy Book Club Award-Best Poetry and Novels in Verse
Editorial Reviews
★ 05/31/2021
Bruchac (Peacemaker), who is Abenaki, pens a spare novel-in-verse that richly addresses an array of subjects, including Wabanaki legends and beliefs, residential schools, the Covid-19 pandemic, and the difficulties of online schooling with insecure Wi-Fi. Eighth grader Malian is quarantining with her grandparents after a short visit to their Penacook reservation is extended indefinitely due to shelter-in-place restrictions. Malian deeply misses her Boston-based parents but absorbs her grandparents’ stories—including how social services forcibly removed Malian’s mother from her parents to be adopted by a white family. When Malian finds a hound outside her door, one with white spots above its eyes that the Penacook people call a “four-eyed dog,” she names him Malsum, Wabanaki for wolf. As Malsum becomes Malian’s closest companion, Bruchac showcases how rez dogs are integral to Native community: “We humans were lucky/ they chose to live with us./ Or maybe it was the other way around—that we were the ones who chose/ to live with them.” Employing the third-person perspective, Bruchac intricately interweaves past and present stories, displaying how Native mistreatment has been cyclical with a deft touch in this rewarding intergenerational narrative. Ages 8–12. (June)
Awards and Praise for Rez Dogs
Boston Globe-Horn Book Fiction & Poetry Honor
NPR Books We Love
Kirkus Reviews Best Books
School Library Journal Best Books
Chicago Public Library Best Fiction for Younger Readers
Jane Addams Children’s Book Award Finalist
Nerdy Book Club Award—Best Poetry and Novels in Verse
NCTE/CLA Notable Children's Books in the Language Arts Award
NCSS-CBC Notable Social Studies Trade Books
Iowa Children's Choice Award
Nebraska's Golden Sower Book Award
North Carolina Junior Book Award
Wisconsin's Just One More Page! Reading List
Pennsylvania's Young Readers Choice Award
Rhode Island Middle School Book Award
Arkansas' Charlie May Simon Book Award
New Mexico's Battle of the Books List
New Jersey's M. Jerry Weiss Award
Garden State Children's Book Award
Pacific North West Young Reader's Choice Award Nominee
★ “Hidden throughout this moving novel in verse, old stories are discovered like buried treasures.”—Kirkus Reviews, starred review
★ “Bruchac intricately interweaves past and present stories . . . in this rewarding intergenerational narrative.”—Publishers Weekly, starred review
★ "Deftly handles weighty issues and provides readers a story they can connect with . . . [A] dose of hope for the future."—School Library Journal, starred review
★ “Story telling is an important part of culture, and Bruchac is a masterful storyteller who weaves culture with narrative."—School Library Connection, starred review
“With this gentle book, Bruchac offers children another story to expand their worlds and hearts.”—Booklist
“A gentle book about family and history.”—Betsy Bird for A Fuse #8 Production/SLJ
★ 07/09/2021
Gr 3–8—Malian's weekend trip to visit her grandparents, who live on a reservation, lasted much longer than anticipated. While her parents were sheltering in place in Boston, Malian, an eighth grade Penacook girl, was trying to keep herself and her grandparents safe from COVID-19. In this verse novel, Bruchac takes a look at life in lockdown through the eyes of Malian, who copes with boredom, isolation, and the need to find her place. She befriends a dog, whom she names Malsum, meaning wolf. Like other dogs on the reservation, Malsum, unlike city dogs, is free to roam. Though it isn't always easy to make responsible choices like not seeing friends and trying to catch up on school assignments despite spotty connectivity, Malian finds that Malsum's friendship helps even if he can't solve everything. Many readers will connect with Malian's experience. In addition, the text provides a dose of history, including an introduction to residential schools, relocation, forced sterilization, and more contemporary issues such as racial justice and the disproportionate way that COVID-19 spread in marginalized communities. VERDICT A contemporary novel in verse that deftly handles weighty issues and provides readers a story they can connect with during a pandemic, with a dose of hope for the future.—Monisha Blair, formerly at Rutgers Univ., NJ
Native American author Joseph Bruchac narrates his novel in verse, capturing all its storytelling qualities on audio. Malian is visiting her grandparents on a Wabanaki reservation when the COVID-19 pandemic shuts down travel. She misses her parents but understands that she, her grandparents, and Malsum, the rez dog, must look after each other. Bruchac speaks slowly and deliberately, as if thoughtfully considering each word. Malian’s voice is kind as she helps her grandparents and gently scolds local boys who are breaking quarantine. Without rancor, her grandparents teach Malian the family’s history, including stories of forced enrollment in Indian residential schools and caring for each other during epidemics of the past. Malsum is a silent but ever-present participant in this gentle story sprinkled with Wabanaki words. L.T. © AudioFile 2021, Portland, Maine
★ 2021-05-05
When a Penacook girl and her grandparents must shelter in place at the beginning of the Covid-19 outbreak, a large dog mysteriously appears to protect them.
Malian’s winter stay with her grandparents is extended when everything is locked down. A big dog with two white spots over his eyes shows up at their house on the reservation. “Four-eyed dog,” her grandmother calls him. They name him Malsum, meaning “wolf,” and he makes himself at home. “When a dog like / that just appears / and chooses you, / it’s not your decision.” Although Malian misses her parents in Boston and online classes are difficult due to the poor internet connection, her grandparents entertain her with stories. She finds that even when she’s hearing one again, there’s “always / something in that story / that was more.” Her grandfather tells her “that all the old stories / are so alive / that even when you hear / one of them again, / that story may decide / to show you / something new.” Bruchac (Abenaki) tenderly braids traditional Wabanaki stories and, via Malian’s family history, stories of atrocities visited on Native nations into Malian’s lockdown experience. As early spring turns to summer and Malsum makes himself part of the family, she turns these stories into a school presentation, a process that helps her realize that, like her grandparents and the big dog, she’s “a rez dog too.”
Hidden throughout this moving novel in verse, old stories are discovered like buried treasures. (Verse fiction. 8-12)
Product Details
| BN ID: | 2940177252636 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | Penguin Random House |
| Publication date: | 06/08/2021 |
| Edition description: | Unabridged |
| Sales rank: | 1,118,268 |
| Age Range: | 8 - 11 Years |
Read an Excerpt
chapter one
malsum
When Malian woke up
and looked out her window,
the dog was there.
Just as she had
dreamed it would be.
It was lying on the driveway
halfway between
their small house and the road.
It wasn’t sleeping,
its head was up,
its ears erect,
its paws in front of it
as if on guard.
As Malian watched,
the dog turned its head
to look right at her,
as if it knew her,
as if it had known her
for a long, long time.
“Malsum,” she said.
“Kwai, kwai, nidoba.”
Hello, hello, my friend.
The big dog nodded
and then turned back
to continue watching the road.
Malsum. That was
the old name for a wolf.
It was a good one for that dog.
It was as big as a wolf.
It looked like the videos
of wolves she’d watched
on her phone.
The only things different
about it were the white spots
over each of its eyes.
“Four-eyed dog,”
a soft voice said
from back over her shoulder.
It was Grandma Frances.
Malian had not
heard her come up behind.
She was used to that.
Both her grandparents
could walk so softly
that she never knew
they were there
until they spoke.
Grandma Frances
would tease her about it.
“Be careful, granddaughter,
you don’t want
to let no Indian
sneak up on you.”
Grandma Frances
put her hand
on Malian’s shoulder.
“Looks to me
like he thinks
he belongs here,” she said.
Then she chuckled.
“Or maybe like
he thinks he
owns this place.”
“Would that be okay?”
Malian said.
Grandma Frances
chuckled again.
“It seems to me
it’s not up to us.
When a dog like
that just appears
and chooses you,
it’s not your decision.”
“Can I go outside and see
what he does?” Malian said.
“Let’s ask your grampa.
Roy, get in here.”
But Grampa Roy
was already there.
“I’ve been listening
to every word.
Seems to me
if you step outside
and then move real slow
whilst you watch what he does
you’ll be okay.
But just in case,
I’ll be right behind you.”
Malian shook her head.
“Remember what they said?
You and Grandma
should not go outside.
It’s too dangerous—
you might get that virus.
That’s why I can’t
go home to Mom and Dad.”
“And we’re goldarn lucky
you’re here with us,”
Grampa Roy said.
“That old saying about
how we don’t know
what we’d do without you
sure makes sense these days.
So I’ll stay inside—
but you stay in, too.
Just open the door
and we’ll see what he does.”
Malian cracked open the door.
The dog stood up
and turned her way.
He opened his mouth,
let his tongue hang out
in what she knew
had to be a smile.
She held out her wrist.
“Malsum!” she called,
her voice soft but sure.
The big dog walked over
and sniffed her hand.
“Malsum,” she said again,
dropping down to one knee
as she placed her hand
on his broad head.
The dog looked at her,
straight into her eyes.
As he held her gaze
he seemed to Malian
that she could see
intelligence and
even a hint of humor
and a kind of certainty.
Malsum nodded his head
as if to say, Yes
that can be my name.
I am here for you.
Then he licked her fingers
before turning around
and going back,
heavy muscles rippling
beneath his skin,
to drop himself down
where he had been.
“Guess he is
guarding us, for sure,”
Grampa Roy said.
“Looks like you got
a new friend.”
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