I don’t do Westerns. I don’t get sucked into the well known cliches of dusty towns, rolling tumbleweeds and the rapid-fire whistle that means some chaps-wearing gunslinger is waltzing into a saloon. For one reason or another, the western genre lacks appeal for me.
Nonetheless, one day last summer, I was stumbling around Goodreads.com as I scoured lists featuring readers’ all time favorite books. What was one novel that kept popping up and over again? Yes, indeed, the western of all westerns: Lonesome Dove by Larry McMurtry.
Still by no means sold by the oh-so-original cover (couple cowboys, twirling lasso, bunch of cattle (holy eye roll)), I decided to take a peak at the reviews. The result was not only the discovery of many people who should really get their asses on steemit.com based on their creativity and powers of persuasion, but the very clear message that this book was for everyone.
As a fine tool for bludgeoning critics, this 864 page monster is no quick read. However, what’s surprising about Lonesome Dove is that the pages will still fly by faster than a prairie wind. Brimming with characters who will make you laugh, cry and cheer, McMurtry brings you right into the saddle alongside Gus, the Captain and crew. There are so many moments within this genre-defying masterpiece where you will, somehow, someway, identify with cattle-driving cowboys even as you sip your caramel macchiato and check your steemit reputation score on the Starbucks wifi.
Naturally, the magic lies within the passages of brilliance that are peppered throughout a masterfully crafted tale. While the book was freaking rife with spectacular quotes, I’ll value your bandwidth and time with my favorite three:
I knew I was going to love this book as soon as I came across this quote…It was on page one:
All America lies at the end of the wilderness road, and our past is not a dead past, but still lives in us. Our forefathers had civilization inside themselves, the wild outside. We live in the civilization they created, but within us the wilderness still lingers. What they dreamed, we live, and what they lived, we dream. —T. K. Whipple
Pardon the forward nature of this passage’s conclusion, but I thought Gus captured the combination of growing wise with experience while simultaneously bidding the days of youth goodbye so very eloquently here:
Age had never mattered to him much. He felt that, if anything, he himself had gained in ability as the years went by. Yet he became a little wistful, thinking of the boys. However he might best them, he could never stand again where they stood, ready to go into a whorehouse for the first time.
And finally for any of us that have endured (or perhaps been blessed) to be present for the final waning moments of another human being’s existence, McMurtry caught my eye with these words about slipping into darkness:
He had seen many men die of wounds, and had watched the turning of their spirits from active desire to live to indifference. With a bad wound, the moment indifference took over, life began to subside. Few men rose out of it: most lost all impulse toward activity and ended by offering death at least a halfhearted welcome.
Since it’s a book that is recommended over and over, I won’t try to hard sell you on Lonesome Dove. The opportunity to befriend McMurtry’s well-developed characters as they ride off into the sunset is probably compelling enough. But if not, then let’s go with the old reliable: “If you read one Western…”.
Either way, I assure you Lonesome Dove is worth a horseback ride, whether you’re pro-Western or not. 5 Cowboy Spurs out of 5!
Keep on Steem’n, folks!