Where Have All the Westerns Gone?

I weed every day. Not outdoors in the yard or garden, but in the library, specifically Adult Fiction. We have a pretty small section of Westerns, as I suspect most libraries do these days. A very dedicated few are keeping that section going, checking out the same 20 or 30 titles over and over. Zane Grey and Louis L'Amour are mainstays with a few Elmer Kelton and Elmore Leonard titles thrown in, but otherwise the Western is dying a slow death.



Maybe you have to have been from an older generation to truly appreciate a Western novel or story. I've only read a handful of Westerns but I saw lots of Western movies as a kid. Maybe that's a generational thing, too. When I was a kid, Gunsmoke was nearing the end of its 20-year run on television. I watched it from time to time, but even as a kid, the show struck me as somewhat sanitized, a little too squeaky-clean for the Old West.



In sharp contrast were the Western movies. I grew up in the 60s and 70s, watching Clint Eastwood as The Man With No Name and some of the more non-traditional Westerns like High Plains Drifter, Pat Garrett and Billy the Kid and A Fistful of Dynamite. I didn't even know about the earlier tradition of classic Westerns like Stagecoach, She Wore a Yellow Ribbon, My Darling Clementine, The Searchers and tons of others.

So I suppose I came to the table after most of the good cards had been dealt. Later I understood the attraction (and sometimes, even, the genius) of the American Western film, even though I largely ignored Western Fiction. Maybe I should make it a point to check out one of those Louis L'Amour books and see what the fuss was all about. Before they're all gone.

Scenting the Dark and Other Stories (2009) - Mary Robinette Kowal

Scenting the Dark and Other Stories (2009) - Mary Robinette Kowal

There's a lot of great science fiction, fantasy and horror being published by small presses and I like to support their efforts when I can. Usually I'll purchase a couple of small press books a year, books that I know I can't get anywhere else by authors I know I'll like. I decided to take a chance on Mary Robinette Kowal's debut collection of short stories from Subterranean Press. I'd never read one word of Kowal's work, but have read glowing reviews of her individual stories as they appeared in print or online. So it was a bit of a risk spending $25 on a slim 80-page book by a relatively unknown author.

I'm so glad I did.

Kowal's stories are filled with interesting characters and fascinating ideas, but it's the human element (as well as excellent writing) that makes this collection soar. Two of the stories concern young adults who yearn for something they don't yet have. In the case of a boy named Aage in "This Little Pig," it's a 1952 MG in a future in which internal combustion engines are largely a thing of the past. For a girl named Jaiden in "Jaiden's Weaver," it's an expensive teddy bear spider that her homesteading family will never be able to afford. Both stories capture not only the yearning of these two people, but also the humanity and struggles that we all remember from our youth (and beyond).

"Just Right," about OCD and "Locked In" about a man suffering from ALS are both moving without becoming sappy, powerful without being manipulative. Yet the title story is my favorite, a tale of a blind man and his dog who travel to distant planets searching for exotic native fragrances that can be turned into perfumes. Kowal narrates this gripping "first contact" story from the blind man's point-of-view. I challenge anyone to write a gripping, nail-biting alien story as good as this one without using visual imagery.

Kowal, winner of the Campbell Award for Best New Writer, is clearly a writer to watch. I know I plan to.

Coming Soon to a Bookstore Near You...Or Maybe Not...

Just a few days ago someone placed three catalogs on my desk, catalogs from small press publishers. I didn't know if someone wanted me to order some of these books or just have a laugh. But I thought some of them were.... well, different.



I'm really interested in the over 100 ways my horse and I can save the planet. I wonder if Mr. Ed did his part back in the day? "Hey Willllllbur! Don't dump that toxic waste in the back yard!!!"



No, this is not the French translation of William P. Young's The Shack. But I wonder how many people might think it is? C'est dommage.



I don't know if they come from the same guy that produced this book Little People in the City, but Jeffrey Ford sometimes has similar interesting miniature figures on his blog 14theditch. This book actually looks pretty fun.



I just love this cover....



At first I thought Within These Walls: Memoirs of a Death House Chaplain smacked of exploitation, but after reading the Amazon blurbs, it might be a pretty interesting look at capital punishment. This must be a re-issue since the Amazon publication date is 2003 and used copies start at $49.96.

The Truth About Celia (2003) - Kevin Brockmeier

If you asked me to give you just one word on what I thought of this novel it might be "sad" or "beautiful" or maybe just "Wow." Or maybe I'd just point to the book, then point to you, then point to the book again. Sometimes word descriptions just don't work. Maybe I'd just hand you the book.

The Truth About Celia is a book of interconnected short stories told from various points of view. Celia is a seven-year-old girl playing in her backyard one early spring morning while her father Christopher shows their historic house to a couple of visitors. Janet, Celia's mother, has gone to rehearse with a community orchestra. And at some point during the day, Celia simply disappears without a trace.

Christopher, a writer, tries to deal with Celia's disappearance by creating stories that might explain what happened to his daughter. Sometimes they're stories of pure fantasy as in "The Green Children," a story of two children who are transported to a parallel world where their green color fades with time. Another, "Appearance, Disappearance, Levitation, Transformation, and the Divided Woman," is a tale from the point of view of Stephanie, a divorcee whose ten-year-old son Micah wants desperately to become a magician. Sometimes the connecting elements of these stories are clear, sometimes nebulous as Brockmeier bends the rules of narration to wonderful effect.

Other stories are told from Christopher's point of view, Janet's, and even Celia's. Maybe the most effective story, "The Telephone," is about Christopher receiving calls from Celia over the toy phone still in her room four years after her disappearance. Yet Christopher is torn between keeping the news of the calls to himself or sharing them with Janet while their marriage begins to slowly disintegrate.

Sad. Beautiful. Wow. I've only read seven books in 2009, but this is by far both my favorite and the one I'll think about most. Get your hands on it and read it.

Last Evenings on Earth - Roberto Bolano

You've probably heard a lot of buzz about Chilean writer Roberto Bolano (1953-2003). Much of his writing has been translated into English in the past few years, but the works you've probably heard about the most are the novels The Savage Detectives and the massive 2666, Bolano's final novel.

I'd heard so many glowing reviews about 2666 that I knew I wanted to read it, but at 900 pages I thought I'd need at least an introduction to Bolano's work before tackling three pounds worth of book. I was delighted to see that our library system carries a copy of Bolano's collection Last Evenings on Earth (translated in 2006).

It's probably important to know that Bolano was born in Chile, but later lived in Mexico, Paris and Spain. It's probably also important to know something about Chilean history and politics (which I do not), but not entirely necessary. All of the fourteen stories in this collection are narrated by men, many of them by a character named "B," certainly a stand-in for the author. In all his incarnations, "B" is a character in exile, sometimes explained, sometimes not. He is nomadic, searching for something (or someone), usually in the world of writers and poets.

Many of these narrators latch onto minor, obscure writers and poets, searching for something either unattainable or so unremarkable that no one else seems very interested in their pursuit. Yet the narrators find a strange sort of consolation and solace in these writers. Maybe it has something to do with being a stranger in a foreign country, maybe it has something to do with political leanings and the yearning to discover a better way of life. The only things certain are Bolano's unpredictability and talent.

Each story carries elements of mystery and sadness. In "Gómez Palacio," a young writer is hired to teach a poetry workshop in a rundown Mexican town, which turns out to be a very depressing experience until he takes a drive through the Mexican desert with the overweight lady who runs the workshop. The workshop director plays the narrator a tape of a woman singing rancheras and bursts into tears. Moments later, she takes the narrator to a spot in the desert where UFOs may or may not converge from time to time (although this is certainly not sf). You can't predict this stuff, but the impact of it all is stunning.

The collection's longest story, "Anne Moore's Life," appears to be a rambling travelogue of a woman who travels from country to country and lover to lover over the span of thirty years. The narrator describes what appears to be random scenes from a free-wheeling, free-spirited life that drifts in and out of relationships with no ultimate purpose, but the distant narrator is a keen observer, able to leave the reader with a strange, yet complete sketch of a woman in search of fulfillment that's never going to happen.

Bolano is a fascinating writer. I wish he were still alive. He finished the manuscript for 2666 literally on his deathbed in 2003. His final wish was to have the five-sectioned novel published in five volumes with one volume released every year. Apparently the publishers ignored his wishes. You can read the complete novel in one hardcover edition (Thank you, Heather!) or in three paperback slipcased volumes. I can't wait to tackle it and get lost in what I know will be a fascinating experience.

The Snowman's Children (2002) - Glen Hirshberg

The Snowman's Children (2002) - Glen Hirshberg

A few weeks ago I was looking for a really good Halloween read, something that would scare my socks off and send them flying around the room like ghosts. (Okay, maybe that's not such a scary thought, but these are my socks we're talking about, so then again, maybe it is.) What I got from The Snowman's Children was a different kind of scare, a different sort of terror than that usually offered by a conventional horror novel.

As the novel opens in 1994, Matt (Mattie) Rhodes returns to the Detroit of his youth seeking to reconnect with his three best friends from 1977, Jon Goblin, Theresa Daughrety and Spencer Franklin. Matt's on something of a quest not only to find his friends, but to find himself, to try to understand why his life isn't quite what it should be despite a successful career and a wonderful wife.

Narratives alternate between 1994 and the winter of 1977, when a serial killer/child abductor referred to as The Snowman terrorized the Detroit area. Mattie has a tenuous relationship with his parents and his younger brother, but spends most of his time with Theresa and/or Spencer, all of whom are extremely bright, participating in a game called "Mind Wars," conducted by Theresa's father. As the threat of The Snowman enters their lives, Mattie suspects something strange is happening to his world in general and to Theresa in particular.

With the best of intentions, the 1977 Mattie makes a very poor decision that changes not only his life but the lives of everyone he knows. The 1994 Mattie returns home, obsessed with the hope that he might somehow try to make things right again or at least make an apologetic appeal to his friends.

The Snowman's Children is just about perfect. I simply do not understand how Hirshberg does it: combines elements of horror, mystery, an understanding of the way children's minds work, the challenges of marriage, family and friendships, the culture of the 1970s and an unflinching look at true horror, especially the horrors we unwittingly create for ourselves and those we love. Hirshberg's pacing is superb and his writing on both the sentence and paragraph levels is to die for.

Yet it is Hirshberg's portrayal of youth that is perhaps the most impressive element of the novel. He understands how children can misinterpret the most innocent of statements by adults, yet see right into the heart of sadness, disappointment and hurt implied in a word or a simple facial expression. In trying to deal with things they don't quite understand, children can take actions that have implications far beyond what they're capable of imagining. Hirshberg knows this and through Mattie, reminds us of some truths we'd rather not face. But we must. Highly recommended.

Books You Might Have Missed #1

Every now and then I'll hear about a book on the Washington Post Book World podcast that I absolutely must read, even though I probably would have skimmed over the same book in the newspaper's print version. Case in point: Marilyn Yalom's new non-fiction book The American Resting Place: 400 Years of History Through Our Cemeteries and Burial Grounds.

Yalom originally planned a project connected with a year-long visit to her mother's grave in a Palo Alto, California, but instead ended up visiting 250 cemeteries across the country (photographed by Yalom's son Reid). That may sound like a lot, but Yalom estimates there are about 250,000 cemeteries in America. Historical connections with the past and the ways they are expressed in our burial practices drew her into the expanded project.

For instance, why do so many cemeteries look so different from one another? Immigrants into this country brought their own burial rituals and styles with them. These get played out around cemeteries all over the country. The best place, according to Yalom, for a wide variety of religions and ethnicities on display? Chicago. Jewish, Protestant and Catholic cemeteries all look slightly different, but Yalom notices marked differences even within religious groups. An Irish Catholic cemetery looks very different from a Polish Catholic cemetery. Every difference in how we mourn, even the minute ones, becomes evident in the cemetery.

Yalom also examines differences in historical periods and practices. Colonial graveyards make specific references to the status of women based on family (wife, mother, daughter, etc.), but not men. Yet in recent decades, you see women's gravestones identifying their work, voluntary organizations, etc. All of this gets you thinking about what other aspects of cemeteries Yalom covers. I wonder how much she talks about the graves of children or criminals. (Does she mention pets? I don't know.) I haven't even picked up the book yet, but I can imagine the photos alone are worth the price of the book. Very interesting stuff. If anyone buys it (or even thumbs through it), let me know.