The Only Good Indians by Stephen Graham Jones
The Only Good Indians by Stephen Graham Jones is a horror novel that gets under your skin. It’s about a group of four friends—Ricky, Lewis, Gabe, and Cass—who are haunted by something they did years ago. The story is rooted in Native American traditions, specifically among the Blackfeet and Crow tribes, but it has a modern-day horror twist that really works well with the themes of cultural identity, guilt, and vengeance.
The Incident That Started It All
The central event that sets everything into motion happened about a decade before the book begins. These four friends went hunting on land that’s meant to be reserved for elders, and they ended up slaughtering a whole herd of elk. This wasn’t just any hunt, though. They killed more than they were supposed to, and the big thing is they took down a pregnant elk cow. They didn’t realize it at the time, but it was kind of like a taboo, a violation of both natural and cultural laws. That’s the moment where everything starts to unravel for them, even if they don’t realize it right away.
The story picks up years later, and the guys have all moved on with their lives. Well, sort of. They’ve all left the reservation, but none of them can really escape what they did. There’s a supernatural force tied to that elk, and it’s out for revenge. The elk’s spirit, or something like it, has taken on a human form and starts coming after each of them. It’s not just about revenge, though—it’s about how the weight of guilt, cultural expectations, and broken traditions can follow you, no matter how much you try to escape.
Lewis’s Struggle: Guilt and Madness
Lewis is the first character we really dive into. He’s the one who seems to be the most haunted by what happened, both literally and metaphorically. He’s got this regular, quiet life now—he’s married, has a decent job, and lives in the suburbs. But there’s this lingering guilt that never really left him. And soon enough, he starts seeing things that shouldn’t be there. He becomes obsessed with the idea that the elk is coming for him, and honestly, it’s hard to tell for a while if he’s actually losing his mind or if something supernatural is at play.
One of the creepiest parts of the book is how it plays with the line between psychological horror and the supernatural. Lewis’s descent into paranoia feels real, like you’re right there with him as he unravels. His marriage starts to fall apart because his wife can’t really understand what’s happening to him. She doesn’t know about the elk, about what he and his friends did. For her, it just seems like Lewis is losing it, but for Lewis, the past is coming back in the most visceral way. And without giving too much away, things go really bad for him, in ways that are both violent and tragic.
Gabe and Cass: Old Bonds, New Threats
Gabe and Cass, on the other hand, are still pretty connected to their roots on the reservation. They’re closer to each other and to the community than Lewis, and their lives have a different kind of weight to them. But even though they stayed more grounded in their culture, they’re not safe from the consequences of that hunting trip.
As the elk spirit (or whatever it is) starts to close in, it’s clear that there’s no escaping it, no matter where they are or how much they’ve moved on. Gabe’s relationship with his daughter Denorah is a big part of his story. He’s trying to do right by her, but you can feel this underlying tension in everything he does, like he’s always looking over his shoulder. His guilt over the elk hunt isn’t just about breaking the rules—it’s about the way he let down his community, and even his family. And with Cass, it’s similar, but he’s got a more resigned attitude. He knows something bad is coming, but he’s almost accepted it in a way.
The way Jones writes their parts of the story feels grounded and raw. The supernatural elements are there, but the real horror comes from how they carry the burden of what they did, how it’s impacted their sense of identity and place in the world. They’re stuck between two worlds—the modern one, where they’re just regular guys trying to get by, and the older, traditional one, where the rules they broke still matter, even if they’ve tried to leave them behind.
Ricky’s Fate: The First to Fall
Ricky’s story kicks off the whole chain of events, and it’s pretty brutal. He’s the first of the four friends to be confronted by the elk spirit. By the time the book begins, Ricky’s life has taken a bit of a downturn. He’s not doing great—he’s left the reservation, but he’s kind of adrift, working odd jobs and not really grounded anywhere. He’s drinking too much, and you can tell he’s haunted by something.
When the elk spirit comes for Ricky, it feels inevitable. There’s this sense that Ricky knows he can’t outrun what’s coming for him, but at the same time, he’s not fully prepared for the way it all goes down. His death is the first real clue that this is more than just bad memories or guilt. The elk isn’t some abstract concept—it’s real, and it’s out for blood.
Themes of Identity and Cultural Disconnect
What makes The Only Good Indians stand out from a lot of other horror novels is how much it digs into deeper themes of identity, cultural disconnect, and the legacy of colonization. The characters are all Native American, but they’re living in a world that’s very far removed from the traditions they grew up with. There’s this constant tension between the past and the present, between their identities as modern men and the weight of their cultural heritage.
Jones doesn’t shy away from exploring how complicated that can be. The elk spirit is tied to traditional beliefs, but the characters are caught in a modern world that doesn’t really have room for those kinds of rules anymore. They’ve all left the reservation, but their actions—especially the violation of the elk hunt—keep pulling them back into a world they thought they could leave behind. The horror isn’t just about the elk coming for revenge—it’s about how these men are struggling with their own sense of self, of where they fit in the world.
The Elk Spirit: A Force of Nature
One of the creepiest aspects of the book is the elk spirit itself. It’s never fully explained, which makes it even more unsettling. Is it really an elk, or is it some kind of embodiment of the men’s guilt? Is it a curse, or just the natural consequence of breaking traditions that shouldn’t have been broken? The ambiguity makes it scarier because you’re never really sure what’s real and what’s just in the characters’ heads. It shows up in different forms, sometimes as an actual elk and other times as a person, but there’s always this sense that it’s watching, waiting.
The spirit is relentless, and once it starts coming after the characters, there’s no stopping it. It doesn’t care about their excuses or their attempts to move on. It’s this unstoppable force that’s tied to the natural world, to something much older and more powerful than the characters can understand.
Wrapping It All Together
So, The Only Good Indians is a horror novel that works on a lot of levels. It’s got the supernatural revenge story at its core, but it’s also a lot more than that. It’s about how the past never really leaves us, no matter how much we try to forget it. It’s about cultural identity and the way modern life clashes with traditional beliefs. And it’s about guilt—the kind of guilt that sticks with you and shapes who you are, even when you don’t realize it.
Jones does a great job of blending psychological horror with supernatural elements, and the characters feel real, like people you might know. You feel for them, even when they make bad choices, because you understand why they’re making them. The horror here isn’t just about being scared—it’s about the weight of history and the things we can’t outrun.