Book Review: The Buffalo Hunter Hunter by Stephen Graham Jones
From the moment I stumbled upon the striking cover of The Buffalo Hunter Hunter, I felt an undeniable pull. Perhaps it was the promise of a narrative that intertwines horror and historical tragedy, or maybe it was the allure of Stephen Graham Jones, a prolific author whose work I’ve long admired. This book is far more than just a horror story; it’s a haunting meditation on history, justice, and the lengths one will go to avenge a community’s suffering.
Set against the backdrop of the Blackfeet reservation, the novel is framed through the lens of a 1912 diary written by a Lutheran pastor, Arthur Beaucarne. His interactions with a Blackfeet vampire named Good Stab unravel a chilling tale of massacre, survival, and revenge that resonates with the painful history of Indigenous peoples in America. The dual narrative structure—rotating between Good Stab’s second-hand confessionals and Arthur’s Victorian prose—creates a rich tapestry, allowing readers to delve deeply into both the past and its unsettling repercussions.
Jones has a unique ability to blend the supernatural with the stark realities of history. The vampire lore serves not just as a horror element but also as a vehicle for discussing the generational trauma experienced by the Blackfeet. A line that particularly struck me was, "What I am is the Indian who can’t die. I’m the worst dream America ever had." This poignant quote encapsulates a tension that runs throughout the book, balancing the fantastical with the heartbreaking.
The writing style is visceral and immersive; Jones crafts vivid imagery that lingers long after you turn the final page. It’s a challenging read, as many have noted, due to its heavy themes and intricate storytelling. The language can sometimes feel dense, especially when switching between the different perspectives, yet this complexity adds to the authenticity. It nudges us to confront the real horrors of history while accompanying us through the fictional elements that veer into the grotesque.
The pacing can be uneven; while some sections sweep the reader along with an almost breathless urgency, others can veer into contemplative territories that may trip some up. Yet, it’s these slower moments that often deliver the most profound insights into the characters’ psyche. Etsy, the modern-day academic, becomes our anchor, connecting us to the past while also wrestling with her own role in this history.
Readers will undoubtedly resonate with the multifaceted characters. Good Stab, dressed in clerical robes but fueled by a desire for vengeance, draws us into his tragic quest for justice. Arthur, the pastor grappling with his own past, elicits both sympathy and frustration. Their intertwining stories compel us to challenge our perspectives, engaging us in a dialogue about accountability, legacy, and the idea of justice.
In conclusion, The Buffalo Hunter Hunter is a remarkable work of literature that I believe will capture the hearts of those who appreciate layered storytelling that is both entertaining and enlightening. It’s a book that invites critical thought regarding America’s complicated history with its Indigenous peoples, all wrapped in a narrative that is undeniably haunting. Whether you’re a fan of horror, history, or just exceptional storytelling, this novel deserves a place on your bookshelf.
As for me, it has left an indelible mark, and I find myself captivated by the questions it raises—long after bidding farewell to its pages. If you’re in search of a reading experience that challenges and provokes thought while entertaining, dive into this haunting tale; I guarantee you won’t emerge unscathed.
You can find The Buffalo Hunter Hunter here >>