It's strange how the Diary-of-a-Wimpy-Kid-style of this book makes it it on one hand hard to take the story seriously, but on the other hand it saves the book from being completely fucking depressing. Like it is simultaneously not serious enough and way too serious. It's a way of getting the story out there and in the hands of middle and high schoolers and that's a good thing, I suppose because it certainly offers a bigger view of the world (actually, a bigger view of the US) than is generally available in your standard middle class white suburb.
It feeds white guilt, while at the same time condemning white guilt, and that is a conundrum that is not easily solved. Maybe putting it into the hands of the next generation of Social Justice Warriors is the best we can do. Yes, I am aware that we don't need white saviors and that poc are perfectly capable of saving themselves, let's make sure Hollywood gets that message. Except in this case I don't think we're going to get anywhere unless white men start feeling a lot more guilt.
Not that Alexie doesn't have plenty of guilt to dish out for the Indians too.
Two scenes in this book that illustrated the heartache on each side of the coin for me were(show spoiler)
And then on the other hand(show spoiler)