Reading this was a treat. As a fan of this collection, I’ve already marked two stories to include in my next creative writing course. It was a pleasure to be introduced to so many new voices while revisiting the work of familiar writers.
Natalie Diaz’s introduction was a beautiful start to this collection. She writes: “I’m not saying the future is the sun. I’m wanting to speak of the future as if it moved like the sun, like the sun’s light, in that it is here, and we are in it, part of its cycle, not separate from it” (1). This idea of being a part of something that is both now and future and past – as our past influences our future – made the poet in me happy. It introduces the idea that we have always been a part of the timeline. By comparing us to the sun, Diaz grants our stories immense power while simultaneously humbling us. After all, who are we compared to the sun’s magnitude?
The short stories within are deeply resonant, particularly in how they navigate the relationship between Indigenous Futurism and Indigenous Feminism on both community and global scales. I was especially struck by the portrayal of time as something simultaneously reverent and irrelevant; it reinforces the power of the story as the true vessel for memory, protocol, and our collective endurance.
In the short story by Moniquill Blackgoose, “Sky Woman Rising: A Memoir,” the narrative is framed as a telling by the “eldest Elder.” Set against a post-apocalyptic backdrop where communities gather to remember, the story reinforces a simple truth: to survive, we must take responsibility for our actions and acknowledge the sacred kinship between the Earth and ourselves. It’s a straightforward premise – that even as we work to return to a healed Earth, our primary duty is to continue caring for one another. This idea – that story has the power to unite, heal, and carry us forward – is incredibly moving and aligns deeply with my own view of storytelling.
I also found the collection to be very “American” in its relationship to land and experience. There were several instances where characters were in the army or the police force, and I found myself wondering if these were intended as social critiques or positive character traits. Given the long and complex history between the military and Indigenous communities in the States, those enlistment narratives and characters land differently than they do in Canada. I approach those mentions with a careful, critical eye, but I also value that. We don’t need every Indigenous story to be easy or bright; we can and should showcase the full and complicated depth of our experiences.
From a structural standpoint, I enjoyed the mixture of poetry and prose, though my personal preference would have been to see them separated into distinct sections. Because I approach poetry and short fiction with different headspaces, the back-and-forth created a slight disruption in my processing. That said, it is a personal critique of an otherwise impactful collection.
Favourite Quote:
“I was nothing, and you are everything. Did you know that, mother? I don’t have the tongue to speak the language, and english cannot describe the love I have inherited.”
“In the beginning, it’s just you and me against the world.”
by Arielle Twist, page 29.
Read: May 2026
Score: 8/10 – This anthology offers a wide variety of approaches to thinking about how Indigenous Futurism and Feminism collaborate within stories and poetry; it had me setting down the book multiple times to think and ponder a sentence, a scene, or a line in a poem. Exquisite work.
Book: Beyond the Glittering World: an Anthology of Indigenous Feminism and Futurisms. Edited by Stacie Shannon Denetsosie, Kinsale Drake, and Darcie Little Badger.
MLA: Dentesosie, Stacie Shannon, et al. Beyond the Glittering World. Torrey House Press, 2025.
