100 Books Like American Indian Stories

There isn’t an author more frightening than Cormac McCarthy.

No Country for Old Men is an existential novel about the pure evil that exists in a barren landscape. The antagonist Anton Cigurth is the darkest character imaginable in a world where there is no justice or remorse.

The sheriff pursuing Cigurth is forced to accept the reality that in the modern world, there is no way to control pure evil.

This book breaks every rule I was ever taught about popular Westerns. Sure, it has a handsome cowboy and a damsel in distress, but he doesn’t get the bad guy, and she doesn’t want or need him to rescue her.

I was all the more amazed that it was written more than 100 years ago yet takes on modern topics like marital breakdown, alcoholism, and divorce.

Its story of a Western marriage gone bad really resonated with me because I grew up in similar circumstances, and Bower’s characterization hit very close to home.  

I love reading books by authors from the margins like Nat Love, who started life enslaved and later adopted a persona as a black cowboy outlaw.

His autobiography surprised me by combining elements of slave narratives, popular Westerns, and travel narratives. The result is a kind of crazy quilt of different personalities that Nat takes on as he moves from slave to cowboy to railroad porter.

I come from a working-class background, so I admire how authors like Nat have to be resourceful and reinvent themselves to survive and tell their own stories in a world where they have little power. 

I never thought of the Old West the same again after reading this book, which shows how the myth of the Old West was made by powerful men who created the West in their own image.

I used to think of Western vigilantism as part and parcel of the “Wild West,” necessary to keep the piece in the absence of “civilization.” Little did I know that the ones behind Western vigilante violence were powerful men using terrorist tactics to preserve their control over the land and its resources.

Bold’s meticulous research is as undeniable as it is thought-provoking and utterly absorbing. 

The Lance and the Shield is a model biography of a native leader; in this case, one of the most storied figures in American Indian history. Utley immerses the reader in Lakota (Sioux) culture and evokes all the pathos of the enigmatic Sitting Bull’s struggle to preserve the Plains Indian way of life. Utley is the dean of Western Historians, and all his books are well worth reading.

Gary Clayton Anderson is one of the foremost authorities on the complex and complicated history of the U.S. – Dakota War. In his latest book, Massacre in Minnesota, Anderson relies on his knowledge of the conflict and his skill as a historian to create an objective, thorough look at Minnesota’s watershed historical event. Anderson, who’s been writing about the U.S. – Dakota War and its participants since the 1980s, guides readers through the events with expert explanations and a multitude of perspectives. He also shows growth and maturity by revising his language and viewpoint to fit the understanding of contemporary scholarship. Massacre in Minnesota is an easy-to-follow, comprehensive look at a tragedy we’re still trying so hard to understand.    

I loved the way the author alternates from the points of view of two young women in Minnesota, Oenikika, a Dakota Indian, and Emma, a white settler, giving me new insight into the limitations imposed on women by two very different patriarchal cultures. I identified with the heroines’ struggles to find a mission in life beyond marriage and motherhood, sympathizing with Emma’s desire to become a teacher and Oenikika’s quest for recognition as a healer.

Although the terrible events of the 1862 war between native Indians and white settlers were deeply disturbing, I was inspired by the way in which individual men and women on both sides recognized the humanity of the enemy, intervening to prevent the rape and murder of civilians and to challenge unfair trials of the innocent. 

I cannot remember how this book came into my possession. I have always been interested in various ethnic origins, and once I began reading this remarkable book, it was difficult to put down. It follows a small Sioux tribe from 1750 to 1834 when the tribe resisted the influence of the white man.

The book's name translates to "Clear the Way," and it certainly was true to its meaning, as it took all my powers of concentration to "clear the way" and understand the depths that the author Ruth Beebe Hill must have gone to in her research to make this book acceptable to interested readers.

It gives an in-depth understanding of the culture of these proud but violent people and, sadly, how some finally succumbed to the influences that they had so long fought against.   

I loved this book enough to read it twice. In fact, felt compelled to read it twice because of Connell’s amazing portrayal of Custer and dozens of other figures, both American and Native American, both well-known and obscure.

The battle of the Little Bighorn lasted only a few hours but had an amazing impact, and Connell tells the story with remarkable originality.     

This book's evocative verse drew me in immediately, whisking me into a cozy childhood memory of my own. I love the repeated refrains of Fry Bread…which allows young ones to anticipate and ‘read along,’ increasing engagement with the child.

The beautiful illustrations, which show children of many different skin tones in the kitchen assisting and then awaiting the delicious result, amplify the story, showing how grandparents can be sources of love and support for their grandchild's network of friends.

I especially love this book because it reminds me of cooking Cuban bread pudding with my abuela for Thanksgiving, her contribution to the American holiday that reminded her of her home.