Sunrise

Téa Obreht’s Sunrise interrogates the violent ethics of collecting and possessing Indigenous artifacts, critiquing the colonialist mindset that justifies ownership through a self-serving concept of “spiritual inheritance” rather than ancestral lineage. The novel sets the abstract, philosophical claims of the collector, John Daisy, against the tangible fear and real-world consequences his actions impose on the community. By juxtaposing Daisy’s entitled worldview with narratives of Indigenous resistance and survival, the book argues that the act of collection is an extension of the historical violence and cultural erasure inflicted upon colonized peoples.

John Daisy’s monologue to Anton Vargas explicitly lays out the colonialist ideology of the collector. To justify his ownership of a sacred Miniconjou arrow, Daisy cites the historical precedent of Lord Elgin taking the Parthenon Marbles from Greece, arguing that the British lord was the true inheritor of the sculptures because he appreciated them more than the “ragged Greeks and Mohammedans” (241) who lived there. Daisy applies this logic to his own collection, claiming that “inheritance… is a matter of spirit” (241). This assertion reframes looting as a noble act of spiritual succession, allowing the colonizer to claim ownership of a culture’s legacy while simultaneously dismissing the legitimacy of its living descendants. It is a philosophy rooted in a sense of cultural superiority, valuing the artifact as an object of aesthetic appreciation while erasing the people from whom it was taken.

The novel contrasts Daisy’s abstract justifications with the violent reality his collecting creates. The Abadie family lives in mortal terror after their son, Jules, steals the arrow from the collection. Convinced that Daisy will kill the boy in retribution, Mrs. Abadie desperately seeks Vargas’s help, explaining her fear that the powerful man will “swallow my son” (235). This tangible fear reveals that Daisy’s collection is through an implicit threat of violence. The arrow is a symbol of Daisy’s power over the lives of the less powerful, demonstrating that the act of collecting is intrinsically tied to dominance and intimidation.

This critique is reinforced by the figures of Preacher Maclean and Fred Kipley, whose lives offer counter-narratives to Daisy’s worldview. Preacher’s fury over the U.S. Army’s illegal reoccupation of Fort Searles, which is a direct violation of treaties with the Cheyenne and Shoshone, provides a political context for Daisy’s actions, linking his personal collecting to the broader history of government betrayal and land theft. Kipley’s identity as the son of a Shoshone woman who assimilated to survive offers a personal counterpoint. His connection to Indigenous history is rooted in the painful, lived reality of displacement and cultural loss, not the detached, aesthetic appreciation of a wealthy collector. His heritage and Preacher’s activism expose Daisy’s philosophy for what it is: A romanticized justification for the ongoing project of colonial appropriation.