RCS Smut O’The Month Club Reads, “Silver Feather” — Possibly the Worst thing Written by Anyone, Anywhere, Ever.

I know I’ve been a bad blogger over the last week, campers, and for that I apologize.  RCS Headquarters is about to move to Texas (because, as one Texan recently said, “We seem to like killing people more”).  Also, I somehow wound up providing childcare for a 14 year old, which is about as maddening as trying to catch a gnat, in the Superdome, with a pair of tweezers.  Anyway, to make it up to you, I’m giving you this review of what is conclusively the worst novel I’ve ever read (and you know I read some crap).  Here, without further ado, is “SILVER FEATHER.”

Okay, I knew it was going to be good (and by good I mean just absolutely atrocious) when the book was prefaced with this poem:

They came from a faraway land, as they

walked to a place that is not so grand

They fought with all their might,

but in the end, there was no light.

Their heads always held high,

but now a tear in their eye.

They always chanted and sang their songs,

but now they don’t understand what they did wrong.

Their souls were always filled with happiness,

but now they are filled with great sadness.

It was a long journey, this I know,

But to the American Indian…they did grow.

                   Shelly Jackson

     a fan, friend, and poet

Okay, WTF?  Am I incorrect in thinking that this is probably the most accidentally racist poem ever written?  I think the whole thing could be resolved if someone could just determine who the elusive “they” she keeps blathering about is.  I’m pretty sure she means Native Americans, but the poem is so terrible that is works equally well if you substitute whites, robot elves, or North American Geese.  Also, WHAT exactly did “they” grow?  Did they just get really gigantic as they marched on the Trail of Tears?  I don’t believe it.  I’m pretty sure thousands of 50 foot indians could pretty much take back whatever land they wanted from whitey. 

Anyway, with this precursor to the novel, I knew it was going to be bad.  I mean, any legitimate author when confronted with a poem of that magnitude, would collapse in a fit of laughter so debilitating  that they would have to be a locked in a dark room for three days with zero stimulation in order to recover.  This chick, however, decided to publish it. 

The “Plot”

Disclaimer: spoiler alert, which shouldn’t be a big deal because this novel is so rancid you can smell it from 3 miles out.

Okay, so Diana is ten and white.  She lives at Dettro Manor (which sounds like a promising name for a Robocop vacation destination).  She has a mean stepfather.  He has enslaved a bunch of Choctaws, including 14 year old Silver Feather.  Silver Feather and Diana are friends, who continually talk about what’s going to happen when they grow up and get married.  One day, Silver Feather’s parents are returning from the cotton fields, and Colonel Dettro (Diana’s stepdaddy) shoots them both for messing with the cotton scale right in front of Silver Feather.  He runs away.  Not very effectively because Diana finds him like half a page later.  They hide in the slave tunnels under the house, and this happens:

When she lifted her lips to his and kissed him, they were stunned by the result.  She leaned away from him and gazed into his eyes as he gazed into hers.  They knew what they shared was true love.

You remember that she’s TEN, right?  Anyway, Silver Feather tells Diana that his dead father got cheated out of their rightful Choctaw land by evil Colonel Dettro, and that Diana needs to find the papers that prove this.  So she goes looking around, and can’t find them.  Two days later, Silver Feather leaves to go into hiding, but PROMISES TO RETURN for his “Beloved Diana, Goddess of the Hunt.”

Flash forward 8 years: Diana is driving a stagecoach dressed as a man because evidently the mean stepfather got shot and she didn’t inherit jack shit.  Silver Feather (of the enslaved Eagle Clan) has found some Choctaw cousins (the Turtle clan) and has somehow risen to be their chief (even though the book mentions several times that the position is inherited).  Silver Feather starts having these dreams about the bone house back on the plantation.  He goes and checks it out and finds out that his ancestors bones are being stolen.  The bones get loaded on the stagecoach that Diana’s driving (dressed as a man with her long, flowing, silky, golden hair stuffed under a hat that could BLOW OFF HER HEAD AT ANY TIME).  He stops her.  They fuck around for a little while with mistaken identity bullcrap, but then are REUNITED.  Sex ensues.  Sex that includes this line:

Diana’s eyes had only now dropped lower and found that part of him that she hadn’t seen since he was a  young boy.  But tonight, as she gazed at Silver Feather and saw how God had blessed the man, her knees grew weak.

BARHARHARHARHAR.  Sorry.  Anyway, then they steal the ancestral bones back. But, Silver Feather still wants to find out who’s stealing them.  So they put rocks in the bone boxes and make Diana finish the delivery.  They find out that…oh God… WAIT FOR IT…

THAT Silver Feather’s ancestor’s bones are being SOLD TO A BUTTON FACTORY.  Yep.  Evidently, even though there is a total EXCESS OF ANIMAL BONES running around, buttons are being made out of humans.  So they go with all the Choctaw warrior guys and shut down the button factory.  Then they kidnap the button biggity wigs and turn them over to the Sherriff of (creatively monikered) “New Town” who for some reason takes the Indian’s side over the white guys’.  This novel is set in 1822 Mississippi — 8 meager years before the Indian Removal Act of 1830. 

So, anyway, things are looking good for Diana and Silver Feather.  Lots of sex.  They’re about to get hitched…UNTIL … Diana gets kidnapped by the dude who took over the mansion after her stepfather got shot.  Blah, blah, blah.  SF vows to save her.  Then he saves her.  She finds the stupid papers.  The white man gives the Choctaws back their land. The Turtle Clan joins up with the Eagle Clan and SF leads both of them.  SF and Diana get married.  Epilogue: she’s knocked up.  The End.

Let’s Analyze:

You can tell this book is total bullcrap because:

1.  There’s a white guy on the cover.

Let’s compare:

White guy.

Portrait of Choctaw warrior Kutteeotubbe, 1834.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

See any differences?  Like that one is totally a WHITE GUY?

2.  All the Choctaws only speak English, always, and EVEN THEIR NAMES are in English.  Plus they all have lame names like “Pretty Fawn and White Cloud.”  Choctaws were actually named stuff like Mosholatubbe.

3. As mentioned above, white/Indian relations weren’t so hot in Mississippi in 1822.  Basically, the entire resolution of the novel is bullshit.

4. The Choctaws continually refer to themselves as “red skins.”

5.  The author (even though she names her main character Silver Feather and has him constantly speaking English) attempts to make SF sound like a rugged Indian dude by using only the device of having him call Diana “my woman” all the time.

6. Why in the hell would you want to make buttons out of human bones when there are tons of animal bones just sitting around free for the taking?  Who could tell the difference?  WTF?

There are many other reasons why this book is awful.  Even if you put the overt racism aside, the writing is ghastly.  I’ve read work by 6th graders that uses more complex sentence structure and boasts more thoughtful plotting.  Unfortunately, an alert RCS’er has procured 5 other Cassie Edwards “Indian Novels” for me.  Honestly, I don’t know if I can suffer through another one.  The things I do for you guys….

About rubberchickensociety

The Rubber Chicken Society is a loosely knit collective of free thinkers who support and enjoy chicken related humor.
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