“My admiration for the generals on our side
survived wounds, prisons, and changes of fortune; but time has tempered my
views on some things, and now I don’t enthuse over generals when the men of the
ranks who made them famous are forgotten. Through the fortunes of war, I
saluted Grant when we were surrendered, but I wouldn’t propose a toast or take
off my hat now to any man that lives.”
This 1903
novel about a cattle drive rings with such authenticity that there are a few sources
that take it as fact, or at least fact mingling with fiction.
This
verisimilitude is due in part to the author, Andy Adams, having experienced cattle
drives himself and he folds his own experiences, observations of others, and
trail drive hearsay into the narrative.
Fans of Larry
McMurtry’s Lonesome Dove saga cannot
but assume that McMurtry studied this novel hard as it captures that same
laconic telling, and rambling pace that one finds especially in the first of
the Dove series.
We follow
Tom Quirk and his fellow trail-drivers through episodes that highlight both the
hardships of the trail and the camaraderie which fosters growth in these
finely-drawn human beings.
I spoil,
hopefully not much, in supplying that there is a mishap at a river-crossing
that culminates in a homey impromptu graveside eulogy. I would love to include the
eulogy verbatim here, but then that would deprive the reader the joys of the
context and having followed these men and boys along the way. I have no trouble
admitting that tears came to my eyes readily upon reading it.
This novel
has heart.
In a world
where much reading is surface, that says a lot.
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