La Farge, Oliver Laughing Boy ISBN 13: 9780395083833

Laughing Boy - Softcover

9780395083833: Laughing Boy
View all copies of this ISBN edition:
 
 
A young Navaho couple watches their relationship and their way of life crumble under the influence of the white man's world

"synopsis" may belong to another edition of this title.

About the Author:
OLIVER LA FARGE (1901-1963) first traveled to Navajo territory on a Harvard archaeological dig. Laughing Boy was his first novel.
Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.:
I

He was riding the hundred miles from T’o Tlakai to Tsé Lani to attend a dance, or rather, for the horse-racing that would come afterwards. The sun was hot and his belly was empty, but life moved in rhythm with his pony loping steadily as an engine down the miles. He was lax in the saddle, leaning back, arm swinging the rope’s end in time to the horse’s lope. His new red headband was a bright colour among the embers of the sun-struck desert, undulating like a moving graph of the pony’s lope, or the music of his song

Nashdui bik’é dinni, eya-a, eyo-o . . . Wildcat’s feet hurt, eya-a, eyo-o . . .’

Rope’s end, shoulders, song, all moved together, and life flowed in one stream. He threw his head back to sing louder, and listened to the echo from the cliffs on his right. He was thinking about a bracelet he should make, with four smooth bars running together, and a turquoise in the middle if he could get the silver. He wished he could work while riding; everything was so perfect then, like the prayers, hozoji nashad, travelling in beauty. His hands, his feet, his head, his insides all were hozoji, all were very much alive. He whooped and struck up the Magpie Song till the empty desert resounded

A-a-a-iné, a-a-a-iné, Ya-a-iné-ainé, ko-ya-ainé . . .’

He was lean, slender, tall, and handsome, Laughing Boy, with a new cheap headband and a borrowed silver belt to make ragged clothes look fine. At noon, having no money, he begged coffee from a trader at Chinlee and went on, treasuring his hunger because of the feasting to come. Now he began to meet Navajos of all ages, riding to the dance. The young men bunched together a line of jingling bridles, dark, excited faces, flashing silver, turquoise, velveteen shirts, dirty, ragged overalls, a pair of plaid calico leggins, a pair of turkey-red ones. Some of them were heavy with jewelry; Horse Giver’s Son wore over four hundred dollars in silver alone; most of them had more than Laughing Boy. They stopped to look at his bow-guard, which he himself had made. I am a good jeweller,’ he said, elated; I make silver run like a song.’ You should make a song about yourself,’ they told him, and teach the burros to sing it.’ Have you had any rain up by T’o Tlakai?’ No, it is just like last year. It is the devil. The grass is all dried up and the sheep are dying.’ They had a cloudburst over by T’isya Lani. It washed out the dam.’ It washed out the missionary’s house, they say. His wife ran out in something thin and got wet, they say.’ Ei-yei!’ Tall Hunter and his wife drove past in a brand-new buckboard behind two fast-trotting, grey mules. He owned over five hundred head of horses, and his wife had thick strings of turquoise and coral around her neck. His brother is in jail for stealing cattle, they say.’ What is jail?’ asked Laughing Boy. Slender Hair explained: It is something the American Chief does to you. He puts you in a room of stone, like a Moqui house, only it is dark and you can’t get out. People die there, they say. They haven’t any room; they can’t see anything, they say. I do not like to talk about it.’ Laughing Boy thought, I should rather die. He wanted to ask more, but was ashamed to show his ignorance before these southern Navajos, many of whom wore hats like Americans, and who knew so much of Americans’ ways. They raced. His horse was tired, but it won by a nose, which was just as well, since he had bet his bow-guard. Now he had six dollars. He hoped there would be gambling. Tsé Lani showed a distant bonfire in the dusk, with mounted Indians moving in on it like spokes of a wheel. About two hundred young men came together half a mile away, making their ponies prance, exchanging greetings. Crooked Ear carried the ceremonial wand. Now they all lined up, with the dull, red sunset behind their black figures. They started going like getting off to a race, right into a gallop, yelling. Over by the fire was shouting, and another line tearing towards them. The world was full of a roar of hooves and two walls of noise rushing together, the men leaning forward over their horses’ necks, mouths wide. E-e-e-e-e!’ They met in a great swirl of plunging, dodging horses, and swept on all together, whooping for dear life, with the staff in front of them, almost onto the fire, then dissolved with jingling of bits, laughter, and casual jokes as they unsaddled by the pool. The steady motion of excitement was slowed then, in the last of the day, by the rocks and the pinons, by the reflection of the sky in the pool where flat, vague silhouettes of horses stooped to drink. The voices of many people, the twinkling of fires continuued the motif, joining the time of quiet with elation past and to come; a little feeling of expectation in Laughing Boy’s chest, a joyful emptiness, part hungeeeeer and part excitement. He tended his pony minutely. The little mare had had two days of loping; shortly he wanted to race her; three days of rest would not be too much. She was his only horse; he had traded two others for her. She was tough, as a horse had to be to live at all in the North country. He ran his hands down her withers, feeling the lean, decisive muscles. In all that section, from Dennihuitso to Biltabito, from T’o Tlikahn to T’o Baka, where he knew every horse by sight, she was the best, but she would meet some competition here. He felt as if she were his own creation, like the bowguard; at least he had selected her, as he had chosen the soft blue turquoise in the ornament. Little, compact, all black save for the tiny white spot on her forehead, she had the ugly Roman nose of character. She was like an arrow notched to a taut bowstring a movement of the hand would release level flight swiftly to a mark. He was thinking some of these things, half hearing the noises of the people. Just like the prayer, travelling in beauty.’ It would be good to be a singer as well, to express all these things through the prayers. He would like to know many of them, to learn to conduct the Mountain Chant, and know all the beautiful stories behind the songs and ceremonies inside the Dark Circle of Branches. That would be really on the trail of beauty; to work in silver and turquoise, own soft-moving ponies, and lead the Mountain Chant. Just thinking about it was good. It made him feel cool inside.

Hozho hogahn ladin nasha woyen . . . In the house of happiness there I wander . . .’

All the time he was passing his hand along the pony’s neck, along her back, feeling the lines of tough muscles. E-ya, Grandfather, are you going to dance with the horse?’ Jesting Squaw’s Son called over to him, food is ready.’ Hakone!’ He returned abruptly to the quick-moving life of the dance. I can eat it. I did not know you were coming.’ I came when I heard you were to race your mare. I think there is money to be made, then, and I want to see her race.’ They went up arm in arm into the crowd, pushing their way into the circle around one of the fires. Busy housewives gave them coffee, the big pot of meat was passed over, and a flat, round loaf of rubbery, filling bread. The meat was the backbone of a yearling calf, boiled with corn. It was good. He munched joyfully, feeling his empty stomach fill, wadding himself with bread, washing it down with bitter coffee. A couple of Americans carrying their own plates dipped in gingerly. A Hopi, having collected everything he could possibly eat, sat down officiously beside them to air his school English and his bourgeois superiority.

II

A small drum beating rapidly concentrated the mixed noises into a staccato unison. Young men gathered about the drummer. Laughing Boy might have eaten more, but he left the fire immediately with Jesting Squaw’s Son. Some one led off high-pitched at full voice,

Yo-o galeana, yo-o galeana, yo-o galeana . . .’

By the end of the second word the crowd was with him; more young men hurried up to join the diapason,

Galeana ena, galeana eno, yo-o ay-e hena ena . . .’

They put their arms over each other’s shoulders, swaying in time to the one drum that ran like a dull, glowing thread through the singing, four hundred young men turning loose everything they had. A bonfire twenty feet long flared to the left of them. Opposite, and to the right, the older people sat wrapped in their blankets., Behind them, men crouched in their saddles, heads and shoulders against the night sky, nodding time to the rhythm, silent, with here and there a reflection of firelight on a bit of silver, a dark face, or a horse’s eye. Twelve girls in single file stole into the open space, moving quietly and aloof as though the uproar of singing were petrified into a protective wall before it reached them. Only the pulse of the drum showed in their steps. They prowled back and forth before the line of young men, considering them with predatory judgment. Laughing Boy at the back of the crowd looked at them with mild interest; he liked to watch their suave movements and the rich display of blankets and jewelry. One caught his attention; he thought she had on more silver, coral, turquoise, and white shell than he had ever seen on any one person. He speculated on its value horses she must have a very rich mother, or uncles. She was too slender, seeming frail to dance in all that rich, heavy ornamentation. He wished she would move more into the firelight. She was well dressed to s...

"About this title" may belong to another edition of this title.

Buy Used
Condition: Very Good
Used book that is in excellent... Learn more about this copy

Shipping: FREE
Within U.S.A.

Destination, rates & speeds

Add to Basket

Other Popular Editions of the Same Title

9780618446728: Laughing Boy: A Navajo Love Story: A Pulitzer Prize Winner

Featured Edition

ISBN 10:  ISBN 13:  9780618446728
Publisher: Harper Perennial, 2004
Softcover

9780451524676: Laughing Boy

Signet, 1971
Softcover

9781399331494: Laughing Boy

The Fr..., 1977
Hardcover

9780330236966: Laughing Boy

Macmillan, 1973
Softcover

9780395078747: Laughing Boy

Hought..., 1929
Softcover

Top Search Results from the AbeBooks Marketplace

Stock Image

La Farge, Oliver
ISBN 10: 0395083834 ISBN 13: 9780395083833
Used Softcover Quantity: 1
Seller:
Better World Books
(Mishawaka, IN, U.S.A.)

Book Description Condition: Very Good. Used book that is in excellent condition. May show signs of wear or have minor defects. Seller Inventory # 38504803-6

More information about this seller | Contact seller

Buy Used
US$ 6.17
Convert currency

Add to Basket

Shipping: FREE
Within U.S.A.
Destination, rates & speeds
Stock Image

Oliver La Farge
Published by Houghton Mifflin (P) (1929)
ISBN 10: 0395083834 ISBN 13: 9780395083833
Used Paperback Quantity: 1
Seller:
Cameron Park Books
(Raleigh, NC, U.S.A.)

Book Description Paperback. Condition: Very Good. Signed by prev owner but otherwise unmarked, clean and bright. Enjoy reading with a real book in your hands. Shipping from North Carolina. Dedicated to delighting our customers. Delivery confirmation provided on all domestic orders. Happy to ship to international locations. Consider expedited shipping - just a little more moves your purchase a lot faster. Digital photos available on request for any book. Seller Inventory # mon0000027328

More information about this seller | Contact seller

Buy Used
US$ 3.57
Convert currency

Add to Basket

Shipping: US$ 4.25
Within U.S.A.
Destination, rates & speeds
Stock Image

La Farge, Oliver
Published by Houghton Mifflin Harcourt (1957)
ISBN 10: 0395083834 ISBN 13: 9780395083833
Used Softcover Quantity: 1
Seller:
Columbia Books, ABAA/ILAB, MWABA
(Columbia, MO, U.S.A.)

Book Description 1957 La Farge, Oliver LAUGHING BOY Introduction Dee Brown Boston: Houghton Mifflin, c1957 later printing 302pp 8vo Uncreased spine, fine trade paperback. Seller Inventory # 75127

More information about this seller | Contact seller

Buy Used
US$ 8.95
Convert currency

Add to Basket

Shipping: FREE
Within U.S.A.
Destination, rates & speeds
Stock Image

La Farge, Oliver
ISBN 10: 0395083834 ISBN 13: 9780395083833
Used Pb Quantity: 1
Seller:
The Unskoolbookshop
(Brattleboro, VT, U.S.A.)

Book Description Pb. Condition: Good+. crease on front cover; minor wear. Pultizer prize-winning novel of Indian life. "Lucid beauty, vital artistic imagination, and a clear, almost hypnotic style."-New York Times. Book. Seller Inventory # 003836

More information about this seller | Contact seller

Buy Used
US$ 5.50
Convert currency

Add to Basket

Shipping: US$ 5.50
Within U.S.A.
Destination, rates & speeds
Stock Image

La Farge, Oliver
Published by Houghton Mifflin Harcourt (1929)
ISBN 10: 0395083834 ISBN 13: 9780395083833
Used Softcover Quantity: 1
Seller:
Irish Booksellers
(Portland, ME, U.S.A.)

Book Description Condition: Good. SHIPS FROM USA. Used books have different signs of use and do not include supplemental materials such as CDs, Dvds, Access Codes, charts or any other extra material. All used books might have various degrees of writing, highliting and wear and tear and possibly be an ex-library with the usual stickers and stamps. Dust Jackets are not guaranteed and when still present, they will have various degrees of tear and damage. All images are Stock Photos, not of the actual item. book. Seller Inventory # 25-0395083834-G

More information about this seller | Contact seller

Buy Used
US$ 15.97
Convert currency

Add to Basket

Shipping: FREE
Within U.S.A.
Destination, rates & speeds
Stock Image

La Farge, Oliver
ISBN 10: 0395083834 ISBN 13: 9780395083833
Used Trade Paperback Quantity: 1
Seller:
Callaghan Books South
(New Port Richey, FL, U.S.A.)

Book Description Trade Paperback. Condition: Very Good. (9th ptg.) Trade paperback, color-illustration of Navaho man in circle on front wrapper, Pulitzer Prize winner. 302 lightly browned pages plus catalog. White wrappers very slightly browned, very tiny crease at tips. Very Good+. Seller Inventory # 28126

More information about this seller | Contact seller

Buy Used
US$ 14.00
Convert currency

Add to Basket

Shipping: US$ 5.00
Within U.S.A.
Destination, rates & speeds
Stock Image

Paton, Alan
ISBN 10: 0395083834 ISBN 13: 9780395083833
Used Soft cover First Edition Quantity: 1
Seller:
Sparkle Books
(Calgary, AB, Canada)

Book Description Soft cover. Condition: Very Good. First. Very good copy of the 9th printing of this 1930 Pulitzer winner by Harvard anthropologist Oliver LaFarge Jacket yellowed somewhat, very few creases, tight binding, may be unread but has briefly encountered coffee on the page preliminary to page one, leaving a smallish trail of rapid movement). The book has been filmed in 1934 with Ramon Novarro and Lupe Velez (interesting choices for aboriginal characters) and at least one more time in 2002. Cover drawing by Ben Stahl, Jr. No date but listed as "Sentry Edition C" on jacket and 'Sentry Edition 34' on jacket. There is a very interesting introduction by the author dated Sante Fe, 1962, which, among other illuminating comments, apologises for and attempts to explain the 1929 dedication (and possibly succeeded in continuing to offend!) 'To the only beautiful squaw I have ever seen in all my life, whose name I have forgotten." It is up to the reader, particularly the first nations reader, to evaluate how satisfactory the apology was. PC. Seller Inventory # 000735

More information about this seller | Contact seller

Buy Used
US$ 15.21
Convert currency

Add to Basket

Shipping: US$ 10.35
From Canada to U.S.A.
Destination, rates & speeds