From the Shelves of the Paco Library

I don’t know that people read western novels much anymore, which is a shame because there are few places and times that compare with the old west when it comes to an inherent wealth of material – good vs. evil, the rigors of frontier existence, man against the elements, the clash of cultures, the search for the promised land, and the tremendous variations in settings, from the snow-capped peaks of the Rockies to the parched arroyos of the Sonora Desert. And there are more than a few authors who have penned interesting page-turners in this genre, including, in fairly recent times, Louis L’Amour and Elmore Leonard (the latter is better known as an author of crime fiction, these days, but he cut his teeth on western fiction).

I wanted to highlight two classics of western fiction today – and they are classics, not merely pulp fiction (although, I hasten to add, there’s absolutely nothing wrong with the latter; good pulp fiction represents the essence of successful story-telling).

The Ox-Bow Incident was published in 1940, and was, astonishingly, the first book written by Walter Van Tilburg Clark. I say “astonishingly” because the novel, in its characterization, pace and thematic complexity, reads like the work of a far more experienced author. It begins with two cowboys, Art Croft and Gil Carter, riding into the town of Bridger’s Wells. They are strangers, and in the overheated environment of a town on edge because of a rash of cattle-rustling incidents, they are viewed with some suspicion by the townspeople. A rider comes into town and claims that a local rancher by the name of Kincaid has been murdered, and his cattle stolen. The sheriff is out of town, and an officious deputy winds up swearing in a posse to go after the criminals – against the advice of the judge and a couple of townspeople, who believe that the posse is likely to hang the first men they find. Art and Gil volunteer for the posse – partly to deter the vague suspicion that hangs over their own heads, partly at the request of Davies, a merchant who fears that injustice will be done and who sees in the two drifters some streak of fair-play – and the men ride off in search of their quarry. They find three strangers, a newcomer to the area who claims to have bought Kincaid’s cattle, along with his two hired hands; however, the head of the outfit can’t produce a bill of sale. For those who may not have read the book, I won’t spoil the ending, but will point out that the novel has a tragically ironic twist at the end (in truth, a couple of ironic twists). The book can be enjoyed on two levels – as both a straight western, and as a brilliant study in mob psychology. It was made into a first-rate movie in 1943, starring Henry Fonda, Harry Morgan, Dana Andrews and Anthony Quinn (but if you’re like me, you’ll want to read the book before you see the movie).

The Unforgiven, by Alan Le May, was published in 1957 (note: this novel has nothing to do with the Clint Eastwood film of the same name, although a movie based on it was released in 1960 starring Burt Lancaster and Audrey Hepburn). It is the story of the Zachary family of the Texas Panhandle in the 1870’s, whose adopted daughter, Rachel, becomes the focus for the primary action. A half-mad old man makes his appearance at the Zachary homestead one day and is driven off by Mrs. Zachary; the peculiar fellow then begins spreading rumors that 17-year-old Rachel was not a white child whose parents had been killed during an Indian attack, but in fact, a Kiowa baby who had been saved during a retaliatory raid by whites (including the late patriarch of the Zachary family). The rumor begins to take on more substance as a Kiowa chief appears one day with a few of his braves, claiming that Rachel is, in reality, his sister, and demanding that she be turned over to him. Ben Zachary, the head of the family, runs off the Kiowas, but they go on the warpath, killing the daughter of the Zachary’s neighbors, the Rawlins. The Rawlins clan comes to believe in the truth of Rachel’s lineage, and blames the Zachary’s for their daughter’s death. Ben Zachary refuses to listen to some of his neighbors’ appeals to turn Rachel over to the Kiowas (Ben’s brother, Cassius, has a great hatred of Indians, because they killed the boys’ father, and he turns against Rachel, too). The Zachary’s, refusing to leave, and facing the wrath of the Kiowas alone, fort up and are ultimately attacked by Rachel’s Kiowa brother and a band of warriors. Again, I will leave you in suspense as to the outcome, in case you haven’t read the book. The Unforgiven is not only an exciting western, but a novel that deals frankly and maturely with the complex theme of racial hatred.