Ron Charles
…a tense little masterpiece of marital strife that recalls [Erdrich's] tragic relationship with the poet Michael Dorris. Gossips will trace the story's parallels to the author's life, but for all its voyeuristic temptations, Shadow Tag is no roman a clef, no act of spousal revenge on her estranged husband, who committed suicide in 1997. Instead, Erdrich has done what so many writers can't or won't do in this age of self-exposure: transform her own wrenching experience into a captivating work of fiction that says far more about the universal tragedy of spoiled love than it reveals about her private life.
—The Washington Post
Kirkus Reviews
Taking a risky leap, Erdrich sets aside the magical-realist style of her many volumes about the Ojibwes (The Red Convertible, 2008 etc.) to write a domestic tragedy set among sophisticated, assimilated, highly educated and successful Native Americans. Gil and Irene live with their kids Florian, Riel and Stony in a seemingly idyllic home in Minneapolis. Gil is a renowned painter, Irene the subject of his graphically revealing portraits. Also a gifted historian, she is currently doing research for her doctorate dissertation about the painter George Catlin. Self-consciously aware of their heritage, Gil (raised in poverty by his white mother after his Native American father's death in Vietnam) and Irene (given a middle-class upbringing by her AIM activist mother) know that observers consider them an iconic couple. But Gil has a habit of brutalizing the children he cherishes, and Irene cannot relinquish the glass of wine always in her hand to protect them. When Irene realizes that Gil has been reading her diary, she feels her soul has been invaded. She begins writing entries to play with his mind, torturing him about an affair he imagines she is having. Obsessed with his love for Irene, Gil thinks that he wants to save the marriage. Irene thinks that she wants to free herself from Gil. Both are lying to themselves. Erdrich's unsparing prose dissects these two deeply flawed characters to show their ugliest selves, yet she allows them each their moments of joy and spiritual respite alone, together and with their children. Into this deeply personal novel about marriage, family and individual identity, she also weaves broader questions about cause and effect in history-specifically the effectCatlin's painting of Native Americans had on them and on him-that resonate within her characters' lives. Readers familiar with Erdrich's personal life may suspect she has written close to the bone here, but she manages the rare achievement of rising above the facts she has incorporated to create a small masterpiece of compelling, painfully moving fiction.
David Abrams
Louise Erdrich's new novel opens with an intriguing premise: a wife, knowing that her abusive husband is secretly reading her diary, decides to use those journal entries to manipulate him; at the same time, she starts to keep a second, "real" diary which is locked in a safe deposit box. Shadow Tag is an experience in domestic terror -- one doesn't so much read this book as recover from it.
Irene America and her husband Gil are near the exhaustive end of their marriage. Gil, a renowned painter, has been called "a Native Edward Hopper." Irene, ten years his junior, is the subject of his paintings "in all of her incarnations -- thin and virginal, a girl, then womanly, pregnant, naked, demurely posed or frankly pornographic." Gil's most recent work, America 4, has just sold for six figures. With their three gifted children, ages six, eleven, and fourteen, they should be living the American Dream.
Instead, it's a nightmare in a house polluted with abuse, insecurity, and screaming matches. It's no wonder that Irene, reflecting on their marriage, writes to Gil in her clandestine diary: "You wish to possess me. And my mistake: I loved you and let you think you could."
Gil the possessor suddenly finds his grip on his wife slipping. He doesn't know about her second diary, but he can sense her growing power over him and it starts to impact his work in the studio.
But now he was losing confidence and control. His paintings were hiding from him because Irene was hiding something. He could see it in the opacity of her eyes, the insolence of her flesh, the impatient weariness of her body when she let down her guard. She'd ceasedto love him. Her gaze was an airless void.
The paintings, like Gil himself, are alternately cruel and tender. In one, he depicts Irene on all fours, snarling like a dog, while menstrual blood drips down her thighs. In another, she's "a creature from the Eden of this continent, covered with moss and leaves."
Irene has her own streak of cruelty, delighting in the way she manipulates her husband through the false diary. She pretends to have an affair and calls Gil's fatherhood into question, knowing it will ignite his volatile jealousy.
Though Erdrich doesn't exploit the dual-diary deception to the novel's advantage (an entire narrative of just the two journals would have been more interesting, structurally speaking), Shadow Tag's narrative is more focused than many of Erdrich's other novels. Gone is the rambling chorus of voices which have drawn comparisons to Faulkner; instead, there is a keener urgency at work, practically forcing the reader through the pages at knife-point. Though it would be wrenching to do so, it's possible to read Shadow Tag in one sitting. I suggest taking at least two days to fully absorb the emotional impact of the spectacle of this crumbling family.
Though the novel invites the reader's sympathies to lean toward Irene, it's hard to take sides in this marriage. Both partners are duplicitous, neither is blameless: they are wedded to each other through guilt, fear, betrayal, and violence both physical and emotional. Irene tells their marriage counselor the relationship is "fractured and hurting and sick." Gil thinks they're "beautifulâ??imperfect, but extraordinary."
In the end, what they are is tragic. As the novel draws to a close, Erdrich enlarges events to Shakespearean proportions, showing the sacrifices that must be made to preserve a sense of self in a marriage. Gil tells Irene at one point, "No one gets out of here alive." By the same token, no one will finish the book unshaken.
--David Abrams
Columbus Dispatch
A fierce novel…raw…alive…vividly present…it marks a breakthrough for the author.
Baltimore Sun
Read this if: You’re looking for a well-written, well-told tale that is thought- and discussion- provoking.
San Diego Union-Tribune
A domestic drama that builds an almost thriller-like momentum…A novel as dark and tragic as it is difficult to put down
BookPage
Muscular and fearless…It is [Erdrich’s] superb telling of this story that makes it real, her stellar writing that brings powerful truth to invented worlds.
New York Times Book Review
A portrait of an ‘iconic’ marriage on its way to dissolution…Erdrich’s unbridled urgency yields startlingly original phrasing as well as flashes of blinding lucidity.
Minneapolis Star Tribune
Erdrich offers a portrait that’s convincing…Shadow Tag is wonderfully, painfully readable and revealing.
Boston Sunday Globe
A fast-paced novel of exceptional artistic, intellectual, and psychological merit…Nowhere have love’s complications been better illustrated than in the raw honesty of Shadow Tag.
San Francisco Chronicle
Clear, urgent, deep as a swift river…accomplishes the literary miracle of making a reader ravenous to finish it, while stinging with regret at how soon it must end.
USA Today
Gripping…a hushed and haunting tale that chillingly and convincingly reflects the upper-middle-class American experience, not only the Native American one.
Philadelphia Inquirer
SHADOW TAG is hard to put down...It builds to a spectacular ending with a twist I didn’t see coming...Erdrich has taken a tragedy and turned it into art.
Miami Herald
SHADOW TAG is compelling…a searing, personal examination of one family that’s falling apart.
Dallas Morning News
A page-turner…a most compelling novel
