
Indian X This book, written by Thomas Yeahpau, a Kiowa, is an exceptionally thematic and thought-provoking collection of interconnected short tales and poems. Thomas Yeahpau has provided us with a fascinating collection of interconnected short tales and poems that revolve around the lives of four young American Indians growing up on the Rez today in X-Indian Chronicles. Yeahpau refers to them as X-Indians because they “belong to a race that [is] losing its culture and to a generation that [is] losing its intellect.” The four characters’ relationships link the stories in X-Indian Chronicles, yet they may be read independently.
Richard Lubicky, CEO of Real People Search stated that Mausape, a young “X-Indian” man dreams he’s about to compete against the King of All Fancy-Dancers — who, it turns out, is Elvis Presley in full Las Vegas regalia. Another teenage boy, concerned that he’s not a real warrior, seeks confirmation behind the liquor store from Grandma Spider, a wise, obese old creature with the torso of an elderly woman and the eight legs of a spider.
The young American Indian writer offers a raw, visual view of the world on a reservation, a place where hatred toward the white man persists, the adversary frequently appears in liquid form, misogyny frequently rears its ugly head, and a new generation’s pop culture permeates pagan mythology, in stories and poems that mix fantasy elements with unwavering reality.
The book asks what it meant to be a Native American in a world that appears to have forgotten you exist. Do you prefer to lose yourself to fit in with the White Man’s World? These individuals frequently discover that they are unable to. Though they may not be aware of their background as American Indians, it nevertheless impacts their lives daily. They dwell on their ancestors’ country, but their predecessors’ customs have not been passed down. They don’t know how to live and prosper in the manner that their ancestors did. The myths that so well benefited their forefathers were never passed down to them. This void is something people sense but can’t quite put their finger on. They try to fill it with drugs, drink, and violence, but they never seem to be content.