Talking Leaves

Told in a conversational voice, Bruchac's novel introduces Sequoyah through the first-person narration of Uwohali, his oldest son. In the nineteenth-century culture of the Tsalagi (Cherokee) nation, wives could ask their husbands to leave their houses and thus divorce them. That is precisely what Uwohali's mother did, and his father, Sequoyah, moved out, subsequently remarrying, fathering a daughter, and working on his now-famous Cherokee syllabary. But when Sequoyah returns to Uwohali's village, many of the inhabitants view both him and his strange syllabary as witchcraft. Thirteen-year-old Uwohali instead sees a father he would like to know, a father from whom he can learn. But he's uncertain about how this father will receive him. Does Sequoyah even know who he is? Has his new family, especially his half-sister Ahyokah, taken all of Sequoyah's love? Although the particulars of the novel occur two hundred years ago, the universality of fitting into a blended family and looking for love and acceptance from a once-absent father feel strikingly contemporary. Through limited direct address, Uwohali shares historical information naturally within the context of the story: i.e., stickball (modern-day lacrosse) "is not a game you play every day. You need larger teams to play it." And the incorporation of many Tsalagi legends adds a natural authenticity to this fine novel, which includes a historical note, two glossaries of words and names, Sequoyah's Cherokee Syllabary, and suggestions for further reading. betty carter

In the nineteenth-century Tsalagi nation, thirteen-year-old Uwohali's father, Sequoyah, moved out, subsequently remarrying, fathering a daughter, and working on his Cherokee syllabary. When Sequoyah returns to the village, Uwohali sees a father he would like to know. The universality of looking for acceptance from a once-absent father feels strikingly contemporary; incorporation of Tsalagi legends adds authenticity to this fine novel. Reading list. Glos.