By Stan Roeser

Shortly after the Legislature closed down in May, I encountered our state representative, Dean Urdahl, on main street and chastised him for what I felt was his ineffective work in the just-ended session.

Dean reacted by writing a column, which appeared in the Independent Review the following week. It was an entertaining piece, I must admit, although I was portrayed — not accurately — as an “elderly gentleman” with a Scroogelike temperament.

Dean’s column hewed pretty close to our conversation on main street, although there were a few self-serving asides skillfully worked in — the sign of an effective writer.

One topic we discussed was Dean’s recently completed novel built around the Sioux Uprising, which spread fear through our quadrant of Minnesota in six tragic late summer weeks of 1862.

I noted to Dean that writing a novel was, to my mind, a signal accomplishment and suggested that in view of his writing skills, perhaps the area would be better served if he concentrated on writing and forgot about being a legislator. Dean, understandably, did not use that bit of conversation in his column.

A couple of weeks ago I walked into Rennie’s China Closet & Arts on main street and plunked down $16 for a copy of Dean’s book.

Let me tell you, “Uprising” is, as they say in the book trade, “A very good read,” especially for people in this part of Minnesota, which provides the backdrop for the story.
No, it’s not a polished product — never will make the New York Times bestseller list, but in retirement I read a lot of books and I’ve read lesser efforts by writers of national repute.

As Russell Fridley, former director of the Minnesota Historical Society, writes in a forward to the book, “A good historical novel (such as ‘Uprising’) is an enjoyable and enlightening way to learn about our past.”

Dean’s book certainly led me to look at the Sioux Uprising in a different light and even got me thinking about driving down to the Redwood Falls area sometime to see key sites in the book, like the Birch Coulee battlefield, the Lower Sioux Agency, and Fort Ridgley, which are preserved as historic places.

I know, of course, that the uprising started at nearby Acton with the killing by the Sioux of five settlers, but I never realized the bloodshed that ensued — that before it was over more than 500 soldiers, Indian warriors and settlers lay dead.

When the battles finally ended, 307 Sioux had been sentenced to death, but President Lincoln commuted the sentences of all but 37, who were simultaneously hanged by the U.S. government in Mankato on the day after Christmas in 1862.

While the battle scenes are fictionalized, they give a good feel for the horrors of war and the story sets the background well for  the ill treatment of the Indians, which slowly festered into blood-letting.

The depiction of the wanton killings by the Sioux of settlers makes it understandable why so many citizens of the area gathered so quickly at Forest City to erect a stockade.

The plot of the story is well-conceived and takes some imaginative turns. It’s apparent that the author did much research before putting words to paper.

I don’t know, for instance, if the Confederacy at the time of the Civil War actually continued to stir Indian uprisings in the North to pin down Union troops here — and away from southern battlefields — but Dean uses this concept effectively in his book.

One of the book’s protagonists is a wounded one-armed Confederate soldier sent North by Jefferson Davis disguised as an Indian trader. His covert role is to incite Little Crow to start an uprising in mid-Minnesota.

Like a true modern novelist, Dean works a bit of romance into his story. The trader, Nathan Thomas, becomes romantically involved with a young school teacher working at the Redwood Agency, and one night she enters his sleeping quarters wearing a “light cotton dress with buttons down the front — the top buttons loosened.” In keeping with the mores of Minnesota, Dean ends the chapter right there.

The novel does suffer from some overly descriptive writing. Fires don’t just burn, but they “dance and snap.” The sun at one point is a “molten lead ball” and in another “blazed like a crimson ball” — that sort of thing.

But the book is well worth the $16. I have been writing all my life but do not  have the talent, energy or dedication to turn out a book like Dean has written.

Do I feel a bit of resentment toward Dean’s writing skills?
Well, whatever pique his writing ability has stirred in me is compensated for by the fact that while he may be a superior writer, I’m convinced that I’d be a better legislator than he’s been in recent sessions.

Stan Roeser is former co-owner and former editor of the Independent Review.