The Night Before Chancellorsville by F. Scott Fitzgerald

“And in the papers the next day they never said anything about how our train got attacked or about us girls at all! Can you beat it?”


This brief tale from the legendary author may strike some as anticlimactic in that it deals only tangentially with the events of Chancellorsville. Instead the author takes a tack that reminds me of a routine from the acerbic but brilliant comedian, Anthony Jeselnik, loosely titled “Don’t forget about me.”


The crux of “Don’t forget about  me” is the outpouring of “hot takes” from many post any tragic event, be that a celebrity death or a disaster that left the “hot taker” untouched but they somehow still have some fodder that returns the focus to them ala, “I can’t believe David Bowie is dead, I’m so sad he was so influential to me" or, "I was in the region where that tornado touched down just last month!"


These “Don’t forget about me-ers” always relate to themselves and seldom remember to add “Oh, and my best to the families.”


Mr. Fitzgerald has provided us with his version of that solipsistic phenomenon. Some may feel cheated that the battle is not the true subject, but a closer reading reveals an all too human, and all too unflattering observation about prevailing egoism.


An intriguing tale with a bit of a wry sting.

Sundance by David Fuller

“Those were good times, though, weren’t they? I miss ‘em, I do. But the two of us back together? I can’t be famous again. I only just learned to be dull. It’s not so bad.”


Screenwriter/novelist David Fuller takes a whack at the legend of Harry Alonzo Longabaugh, aka “The Sundance Kid.” In his imaginings, Sundance didn’t die in Bolivia, and we are glad for it. 


We follow the charmer in his twilight years as he heads East to New York City to look for the love of his life, Etta Place.


Along the way we encounter the Triangle Fire, anarchists, Charlie Siringo, and a few surprises.

Fuller has the easy-going Redford redolent Sundance charm down cold. The character is a pleasure to spend time with. So much so, I’ll admit that as the novel wore on and leaned on the inevitable mechanics of plot I was a little disappointed as Sundance must react to plot-mechanics rather than simply be the laidback charmer.


Honestly, Fuller could have doubled the length of the narrative and simply allowed Sundance to mosey along. I’d follow that character anywhere.


But, for this reader, the plot become so baroque Sundance must take a backseat in a sense.


Don’t read that wrong. This is a fine novel, constructed with much craft, albeit a timely coincidence or two does mar credibility. But Fuller is to be congratulated to provide such an indelible character.


Sundance’s outward demeanor is one of never flagging charm.


While his inner dialogue is rife with potent observations, as in the following.


“Experience taught him that intuition was a weak sense, a shallow sense. Intuition fooled men into thinking they had secret unconscious knowledge ready to tap when in fact it was no more than guesswork, and often poorly informed guesswork, based on past experiences that would never truly align with current conditions. Intuition was to be engaged for frivolous things, never for matters of life, love, or death. Intuition led men to quick judgments, and invited superstition.”


Such observations abound.

Singing Cowboys by Douglas B. Green

The author is also known as “Ranger Doug” of the longstanding western music band “Riders in the Sky.” This lavishly illustrated volume is clearly a labor of love.


We receive an approximate page-long biography of each singing cowboy actor’s career coupled with gorgeous photographs.


As a bonus, there is a 10-track CD song sampler of the genre included.


I came into this book with practically zero knowledge of the singing cowboy phenomenon beyond knowing the names of Roy Rogers and Gene Autry. For rookies like myself it is a watchlist generator. For the expert enthusiast the volume may strike one slim as it is clearly aimed at greenhorns like myself.


Lovingly done.

A Literary History of the American West

My copy clocks in at a whopping 1,353 pages.

This massive book sponsored by The Western Literature Association contains dozens of essays by noted Western literary scholars on aspects of the Western
written canon both familiar and obscure [to this reader, at least.]

Do you want information on the phenomena of Mid-Western "Farm" literature? It's here.

Details on Scandinavian Immigrant Literature? Bingo!

A careful examination of Frank Dobie? Yep.

Admittedly, this is a scholarly work and may hold less appeal for the strictly formula Western reader, but I'd say any true lover of the genre will find ready fodder for future consumption within.

The Red Pony by John Steinbeck

She said quietly, “Look at it this way, Carl. That was the big thing in my father’s life. He led a wagon train clear across the plains to the coast, and when it was finished, his life was done. It was a big thing to do, but it didn’t last long enough. Look!” she continued, “it’s as though he was born to do that, and after he finished it, there wasn’t any more for him to do but think about it and talk about it. If there’d been any further west to go, he’d have gone. He’s told me so himself. But at last there was the ocean. He lives right by the ocean where he had to stop.”


A literary giant offers this 100-page novella in four parts. Ostensibly we are tied to a single small ranching family in California, but Steinbeck being Steinbeck has larger fish to fry with his themes. 


We view the passing of the mythic West, the, perhaps lesser spirit of contemporary non-Westering beings, and some bona fide heartbreak.


It is a curious amalgamation that feels a bit disconnected in its parts, but it is never less than beautifully written, chockful of incisive observation and it has a few surprises of character that may give one pause. They feel real, and that’s what renders the surprises more redolent.


Called one of the 100 Best Western Short Stories, I’ve no quibble with that estimation.

Posse from Poison Creek by Lewis B. Patten

Dolan was silent a moment before he spoke. He sensed that he was on uncertain ground, and he wanted what he said to be just right. “I won’t change. I guess I don’t know how to convince you—not with words. But I won’t change.”


She didn’t answer him. But the silence was companionable, and he knew that she had accepted his words at face value. At least for now.


This brief novel by the solid Patten, while saddled with a formulaic name, is a bit more than a mere action tale of “Go get ‘em and bring ‘em back.”


It is that action tale, but it is more than that—it reads as a posse-procedural where we are privy to the interior considerations of Sheriff Webb Dolan and his weighing this or that contingency. He is plagued with a form of on-the-trail bureaucracy and the varying logistical planning of a long haul not often given voice in formulaic fiction.


These mature considerations make this tale a cut above. A worthy afternoon whiler.

“When the Children Cry” for Meat by Noel M. Loomis

Ikamosa drew a sudden deep breath. “I was raised a Kiowa,” he said, “but I have never lost the Comanche’s love of coming and going as he wishes.”


Mr. Loomis uses his deep knowledge of Indian ways to construct another tale akin to his award-winning effort “Grandfather Out of the Past.” [Also covered in this blog.]

This one follows a band of Kiowa led by their half-Comanche chief during a long lean time. 


Steeped in tribal politics and wise to Indian ways, it has this aspect of verisimilitude going for it, but I found it less successful than “Grandfather Out of the Past” as this one seems a little too respectful, a little too “Majestic Noble Savage” heavy to feel realistically immersive.


Undoubtedly a gifted taleteller, I merely express a preference for the other.