The Humor that Stalked Alexie

Alexie sends strong signals

Writer spares no one from barbs

By GEORGIA PABST
Milwaukee Journal Sentinel

Posted: March 9, 2002

Sherman Alexie steps to the center of the stage. Dressed in black with a tan suede shirt, his long black hair falls to his shoulders. He peers through his glasses and sips a bottle of water as two men carry off the podium used by others to introduce him.

Watching the two lug away the podium, he pauses.

"One of the benefits of being a successful Indian writer is that you get white guys to do all the work for you," he says.

The standing-room-only audience explodes in laughter.

Delivered in a monotone, the words startle and surprise a bit. That's the point. It's part of Alexie's reality. Like his poetry, writings and movies, it's truth that reshapes myth and stereotypes. It's perception mixed with heart, history and humor.

His topic one recent evening before more than 1,000 at the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee Student Union, is entitled: "Killing Indians: Myths, Lies and Exaggerations." But that's just a provocative title for talking about every subject under the sun from religion to politics, homophobia, war, morality, humor, and, of course, Indians.

A Spokane/Coeur d'Alene Indian who grew up on the Spokane Indian Reservation about 50 miles northwest of Spokane, Wash., Alexie has published 14 books.

He adapted his book "The Lone Ranger and Tonto Fistfight in Heaven" into the movie "Smoke Signals," believed to be the first movie made by American Indians about American Indians.
It won the Sundance Film Festival Audience Award and Filmakers Trophy in 1998 and was distributed by Miramax films. The film also received the Christopher Award presented to works that affirm "the highest values of the human spirit."

In 1999, The New Yorker called Alexie one of the top writers for the 21st century.
He's just completed another movie that was shown at the Sundance Film Festival, an adaptation of his book of poems, "The Business of Fancydancing."

Alexie, 35, describes himself as an Indian, liberal, progressive pacifist who is bipartisan in his hatred for politicians.

"Democrats and Republicans, they all lie, lie, lie," he says.

"We have a president who choked on a pretzel, and we're letting this guy make our decisions. Do you really think he choked on a pretzel?"

Even presidential contender Ralph Nader came in for scorn.
"Come on you romantic, foolish jerks. Would you really want this guy representing the U.S. when he doesn't even look like he knows what an iron is?"

Here's what he had to say about a variety of subjects:

The war in Afghanistan: "It's the Jetsons bombing the Flintstones . . . Is it because I'm Indian that I'm suspicious?"

His solution to the war: "Let's have a soccer game with the Afghans, and they will win because they're better at soccer, but we won't care because it's soccer. It sounds like a joke, but it has meaning because we have such different values."

On Sept. 11: "I was leaving my gym in Seattle when a guy in a pickup truck pulled up on the street and yelled: 'Go back to your own country.' I laughed so hard. I tried to run after him to say, 'You first,'"

Homophobia: "It's the only universally accepted hatred across all religions and cultures and it makes no sense. . . . Find me a country where gay men started war on straight men. . . . No movie would ever be made again ever without gays. . . . Trust me I go to the parties, and I see who is dancing with who."

On the question, is Indian gaming immoral?: "Not any more immoral than selling tobacco. Capitalism by definition is the exploitation of vice. My brothers and sisters work in the bingo halls because they want to feed their families . . . You want to help an Indian? Write a check."

On using anger as motivation: "Anger is liberating, not consuming. It's an honest emotion . . . It's not anger as much as disdain . . . with everyone, especially myself."

On Indian influences: "People want us to be the K-mart of spirituality. I don't talk about religion . . . You really shouldn't have a dream catcher in your car while your driving. And you don't have to wear Indian jewelry when you come to hear me talk. I'm going to like you because you came."

A serious side

The talk turns somber when he talks poignantly about the birth of his son, now 5, who nearly died at birth and who has been left with some disabilities.

"Everything we believed of in the world was shaking and falling apart," he says. "We began a lawsuit against the hospital because we believed there was negligence, but we stopped it.

"The lawsuit would tell our son we didn't want him the way he is. It would have said we're not capable of forgiveness and that those people in the room were inherently evil. It would have said we were morally superior. It would have been all about our hatred. We let it go."

The lesson, he says, is this: "We're all wrong almost all of the time."

Rambling through a world of ideas and experiences, Alexie is thought provoking. But one of his hallmarks is the humor that he makes look easy. It's not, he says. "I work hard at the ideas in the humor. I construct the humor like a serious poem."

A tradition of humor

Humor was abundant on the reservation where he grew up, he says. He turned to humor because he was different and got beat up a lot. "You can't run as fast or throw a punch if you're laughing," he said.

And the more traditional the person on the reservation, the funnier they were, he says. "My grandmother was hilarious. My whole family was funny. I was the least funny. My family thought I was depressed and angry. "

Finally, someone in the audience asks the question: Are you Thomas, the nerdy Indian boy in "Smoke Signals" who is always telling stories.

"I'm everybody in the books," he says. "They're me."

[Well put Sherman, speaking for all authors, poets, and quasi-activists--Glenn]