"The Way to Rainy Mountain" By M. Scott Momday

I'm not sure how to feel reading this. I like the flow of the writing, it was peaceful and somberly stinging in some parts, but I felt there was something missing. Or perhaps too much detail on certain things.
I liked the way there was a definitive distinction between War and War. That is, the way the United States handles it and the way it was viewed and honored by the Kiowas. Being a young person in this time of history, I come across people who want to insist that there is no difference in any brand of war, and they are all the same in their injustice because they are validating murder in some form. It's true that explaining why you feel a war can be okay is very tricky, usually causing some serious slipping on very thin ice, or a boring and nervous statement like, "I dunno, it's just different, I can't explain it," is all someone can conjure from their creative mind. But the ability in Momday to plainly and softly lie it out in front of the reader is done so gracefully and gently, there is hardly room for arguing. He drops each sentence like a pebble on sand, leaving only an imprint and no jarring aftershock.
He speaks of Rainy Mountain as having the roughest weather in the world. This is already suggesting that his people are able to handle rough terrain from birth, and very quietly gives the notion of their strength. He experiences the same charm from his grandmother, a mysterious woman whose face is invisible to me, but the vision of her praying is really all I need. This was glorious and divine to imagine, especially when sliding into Momday's small shoes and seeing all of it through the curious eyes of a young boy.
Seeing things in his youth was to witness majestic things, tall and bountiful. Then as an adult, things have changed. The tone is neutral with a slight bitter aftertaste, and things are smaller, less alive. But then he talks about the grasshopper and this is the reminder he needs.
The Mountain stood, and he is not intending on going back. Does this mean that his life is made new, and he is no longer concerned with the preservation of the old ways? I believe he has preserved them, in this new world through his career and passions. He does not need to live his life as a Kiowa to honor them, or the memory of his grandmother. He has already done it.