Crows caw ominously in "Mamaskatch," Darrel J. McLeod's memoir of growing up Cree, signaling moments of confusion and fear in the book. Songbirds flit through McLeod's memories, as well, hints of love and compassion in a world where those things were often skewed by his experiences of abuse and neglect, until he believed the abuse was love.

"Mother … always talked about bird messengers," McLeod writes, "but it was a myth."

Memoirs are, I suppose, myths. Myth brings a storied order to what might seem like chaos; memoir takes the unfiltered jumble of experience and seeks order through narrative. In "Mamaskatch," McLeod explores what it means to grow up in the contexts of intergenerational trauma, parental neglect and sexual abuse. He also lives in the hope that music and education provide, and everywhere his story is driven by his desire to see his family made whole, even as time and again it falls apart. Birds mutter alarm and chirp brightly in scene after scene.

Originally published in Canada in 2018, winning the prestigious Governor General's Award, "Mamaskatch" is now being published stateside by Milkweed Editions. McLeod's story ranges widely, from early years in the bush to his elementary school years in small-town Alberta. The book opens with his mother waking him in the middle of the night so she can drunkenly tell him stories, leading him to wonder if he should have fought so hard to get his younger siblings out of foster care. When her alcohol abuse causes too much chaos, McLeod moves to Edmonton with his older sister and her white husband, who sexually abuses the teenage Darrel, leading him to seek love in anonymous sexual encounters with men in shopping malls.

Much of the book details his struggle to distinguish love from sex as well as trying to sort out questions of his sexual identity. McLeod recounts stories of his older brother Greggie, who in young adulthood takes the name Trina and has gender reassignment surgery. While the love between the siblings never dims, McLeod is remarkably frank in sharing the details of Trina's struggle physically and emotionally following surgery. He is also remarkably frank in sharing the details of his own sexuality, of his own pattern of falling into abusive relationships, and of finally finding love.

While such stories are powerful on their own, McLeod's power as a writer elevates them in unexpected and elegant ways. His mother's stories, he tells us, "are like spirals. She starts with one element, moves to another and skips to yet a different part." Ultimately, though, he knows "she will cover everything and make each story complete."

"Mamaskatch" similarly spirals through vignettes that are by turns heart-wrenching and humorous, despairing and loving, and as they swirl together we see how McLeod makes his story complete and realizes order out of the chaos of his experiences. An elder named Catherine Bird — yes, a bird again — tells him, "Your stories will help people." That Bird's message is no myth.

Carter Meland teaches American Indian Studies at the University of Minnesota. His novel "Stories for a Lost Child" was a finalist for a 2018 Minnesota Book Award.

Mamaskatch: A Cree Coming of Age
By: Darrel J. McLeod.
Publisher: Milkweed Editions, 228 pages, $16.