Gilman's study of one of the best known and perhaps most controversial figures in early Minnesota history is an excellent example of the value of a well-crafted biography. A large part of that value is that this book is unlikely to please many people. Safeguarding one's ideological purity is more important to many people than historical accuracy, and for that reason Sibley has been (falsely) lionized as a beneficent exemplar of Western civilization and (falsely) demonized as a racist profiteer. Yet Gilman, I think, gets it right. While the sub-title of her book (Divided Heart) seems as if it is setting up a slushy, overly-Romantic view of her subject, her work instead captures a fundamental facet of what Mary Louise Pratt referred to as "contact zones." In places where people of different races, cultures, expectations and experiences collided, like the frontier of the Colonialist project, a radical inconsistency of purpose and--even more so--of practice tended to prevail. This meant that people's actions inevitably emerged as inconsistent and even contradictory, and in this regard Sibley was no exception.

In addition to his regular, middle-class family he had a daughter with a Dakota woman, a daughter that he openly acknowledged, and whom he supported throughout her life. He lobbied extensively for rights for mixed-bloods (the popular contemporary term) yet was a key player in a trading and trapping enterprise that was destroying the livelihood and forcing indentured servitude upon the native peoples. He is most well known for his role in negotiating key treaties that forced Native American populations off lands in demand by white settlers. Less well known is that he advocated earlier for not simply a "reservation," but a separate, constitutionally recognized state for Native Americans. He is also well known for hunting down native Americans without mercy following the Dakota uprising of 1862. Yet he also delivered a speech to Congress whose stinging denunciation of the bad intentions that had always underpinned the nation's Native American policy could have been penned by a present-day activist for native American rights.

Gilman demonstrates an impressive range and depth of scholarship here that the book nevertheless wears very lightly. Even when detailing and sourcing some of the complex political and personal machinations surrounding, for example, the difficult transition from territory to state, Gilman retains a strong narrative through-line while still incorporating fascinating asides. The result is a book that left me troubled and thoughtful, which is what I want from my biographies. ( )