INDIAN JOSEPH MARSHALL TELLS REAL STORIES ABOUT REAL EVENTS

Raised by his grandparents on the Rosebud Indian Reservation in South Dakota, Joseph Marshall III spent the long, isolated winters listening to their stories about the Lakota Sioux. Some were myths but most were tales about real events and real people.

"Their sense of history was very strong, and I grew up learning all their stories," he said.

"They are the basis for what I do."

The novelist, historian and educator read from his work Wednesday night at Kent Library's Little Theatre and was honored at a reception earlier in the University Center Lobby. Marshall appeared in conjunction with the SEMO North Cherokee Nation Powwow to be held at the university Nov. 7.

Marshall grew up in a traditional Indian household where the Lakota language was spoken and the value system adhered to.

In Indian culture, grandparents are the storytellers. He decided to become a writer because he wanted to be a storyteller like them.

He writes novels, short stories, essays, magazine articles and newspaper columns. One of his books, "Winter of the Holy Iron," tells the story of Little Big Horn from the American Indian point of view.

Marshall prefers to write stories based on real events, like one that sprang from his father almost getting lost in a blizzard at age 12.

"I think people connect more with something that is real, even more than with compelling fiction," he said.

Marshall came of age in the 1960s, when the American Indian Movement was championing a general awakening to the mistreatment of Indians. In an interview at his reception, Marshall said he agreed with what AIM stood for but not its willingness to use violence.

Marshall said he welcomes every opportunity to speak with people about his heritage "in a nonconfrontational way."

His stories are alive with the experiences of a people who somehow survived the U.S. government's attempts to destroy their culture. A deceptively minor example, a partial ban on Indian dancing, became the title story of his new collection, "The Dance House."

Sicangu Lakota elders decide to surreptitiously replace the dance house that was burned down in 1910. To do so, a younger member of the tribe who could betray them to the BIA agent must be reminded of his people's history.

Elder Jacob Little Thunder wonders if the government's legislation can take away even their stories, their "remembering."

"Is there a power anywhere that can change a heart that does not want to be changed?" comes Marshall's answer.