The Thumbnail Book Reviews
by John Q McDonald --- 15 August 2006
by Larry McMurtry
The great western novel is, of course, an icon of American culture. And the great western movie or television series even more so. Larry McMurtry is one of the most skillful novelists we have today, and with Lonesome Dove, he brings us a great western epic. The story has its source in a screenplay McMurtry wrote in the 1970s. He returned to the story to create this massive, sprawling and incredibly well-crafted novel. In its turn, of course, it was turned back into an acclaimed TV miniseries. Down along the Rio Grande, Woodrow Call and Augustus McCrae are two former Texas Rangers who have settled into a quiet life running a livery stable in the town of Lonesome Dove. Occasionally, they might drop across the border to rustle some Mexican horses or cattle. But, Gus prefers his time on the porch, chugging his whiskey, and the odd trip down to the Dry Bean to sport with Lorena, a young woman of pleasure at the saloon. When their old friend Jake Spoon rides back into their lives, everything changes. Call decides to drive a heard of Texas cattle to the unsettled lands of Montana. Gus resists, but he joins the adventure. They raise a crew and ride north, taking Jake and Lorena with them, though Jake would rather gamble, and Lorena would rather head for San Francisco. What ensues is an adventure that stretches three thousand miles of landscape in an era in which the Indians have been barely subdued, the buffalo are about wiped out, but the land still only sparsely settled. The story is mainly about Gus and Call, two characters who have become iconic since the novel's publication. They're tough men. Call is a worker, driven to drive cattle. Gus would like to be a man of leisure. He longs for a woman he loved long ago. But he also has an enduring taste for adventure. Along the way, there is hardship and death, fierce conditions and violence. The Hat Creek outfit find hailstorms, criminals and rogue Indians. McMurtry imbues the story with a vivid reality. Death is random and tragic, the violence mostly desperate and a little pathetic. McMurtry's writing is seamlessly well-crafted. There are stunning passages of great beauty and tragedy. The book is massive at 945 pages, but it moves quickly. And still it feels there is much left of the story to be told (in a sequel and a prequel). Its length reveals some of the structural motifs that McMurtry relies upon, but this is nothing short of an epic masterpiece.
(For this book, McMurtry was awarded the 1986 Pulitzer Prize for fiction.)
Also by McMurtry: [The Last Picture Show] [Texasville]