The story, told in both the first and third person, is really a story of courage about accepting the past and finding peace, fulfillment and beauty in the present. Deborah Larsen does a beautiful job of telling this story--sometimes the prose borders on poetry: In later days the fact that I was a prisoner had not stopped the breeze nor the tubers which grow sequestered in the dark ground nor darkness itself nor the flutterings of moths nor the reedy songs of children nor the pungency of sage.
An enjoyable, fairly quick read. However, you need to be able to stomach a certain amount of Indian-related violence.
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