This is a western for people who don’t like westerns. It takes a reader onto the raw frontier of 1871 and, like Lonesome Dove,
follows a small band of characters as they make a long overland journey. In
this case, the novel opens in Fort Benton on the upper reaches of the Missouri
River in Montana Territory, and its characters travel to Edmonton, Alberta, and
back.
Like McMurtry’s
novel, its story is different from the traditional western’s more usual quest
of an individual hero to bring outlaws to justice against all odds. McMurtry
and Vanderhaeghe take the usual topics of frontier fiction—loyalty, friendship,
love, courage, family, integrity, and so on. But enliven them in a way meant to appeal to a broad audience.
Plot. The back cover will tell you that the story is about two
English brothers in search of a third one who has disappeared in the American
wilderness. That’s only one thread of a tangled plot line that involves a
battle-scarred Civil War veteran, an Irish saloon keeper, a mixed-blood
Blackfeet-Scots scout, a writer of adventure books, a woman abandoned by her
husband, and yet another pair of brothers believed to have murdered the woman’s
sister.
The characters press
northward from Fort Benton into Canada, following scant evidence that the
missing brother is still alive. He seems likely to have died from misadventure
or to have been killed by Indians. Members of the search party itself are
hardly sanguine in each other’s company. Addington and Charles, the missing man’s
brothers, have a long history of mutual distrust. Meanwhile, two of the men are
enamored of the woman traveling with them.
Red River carts, near Edmonton, Alberta, c1870 |
Near the end of
almost 400 pages, there are revelations that clear up some mysteries while
producing others. Before the story is done, we have lost a character or two
along the way, and in the final chapters, one of the brothers returns to
England.
Character. Charles is a modestly talented portraitist, who
has disappointed both Addington and their wealthy father by having no talent
for brutal domination of others. Addington, who represents the high tide of
British imperialism, is a proud, angry man, determined to leave his mark by
killing a grizzly with a longbow. Given to pontificating, he says that what
defines a man is his relentless effort to overcome any obstacle. To that end,
he has engaged a writer to enshrine his achievements in a book about himself.
We get to know the
third brother, Simon, in the memories that Charles has of him. Simon has been
swept up by the Victorian interest in spiritualism. A student at Oxford and
dressed like Matthew Arnold’s “scholar gypsy,” he abandons his books to learn
directly from nature. Before leaving for America, he becomes involved in a
dubious religious sect that believes Indians are the Lost Tribes of Israel.
Milk River, Alberta, Canada, 1874 |
Jerry Potts, the
mixed-blood scout, mourns the loss of his Crow wife and son, who have deserted
him to return to her people. Remembering the cause of her leaving, he thinks of
how “one instant of anger, one moment of unkindness, is enough to drive what
you love far beyond your reach.” As the Blackfeet die from white men’s bullets
and small pox, he is torn by the dishonor brought to his people. Yet he feels
compelled “to save white men from themselves.”
Style. The novel is really a catalog of incidents and
flashbacks, each meant chiefly to illuminate individual characters more deeply.
With point of view alternating among a half dozen of them, their inner lives
are opened to us, while they remain largely opaque to one another.
The novel is told
mostly in first person, present tense. As in Richard Wheeler’s Eclipse (recently reviewed here), characters report to
us shortly after action occurs so that a section might begin, “We finally
worked ourselves clear of the Sand Hills a couple hours back. . .” The device
produces a curious sort of immediacy, like those video monologues in reality
shows, where participants speak directly into the camera about what has just
happened.
There are parallels
to be found throughout. The brothers Addington and Charles find a twisted
reflection in the vicious Kelso brothers, who kill a whiskey trader and his
black assistant. And there are two pairs of mixed-blood brothers, as Potts and
two fellow scouts, the McKays, join the Blackfeet in a battle with the Cree who
are being led by the fierce, blond-haired Sutherland brothers.
Indians, Fort Whoop Up, Canada, 1881 |
Wrapping up. The Last Crossing won
CBC Radio’s Canada Reads Award when it was first published in 2002. It has been
a bestseller and received honors, so my own quibbles are hardly going to do the
novel any damage. But I did have some.
It’s a quirk of mine
while reading a novel that I’m always looking for subtext: themes and ideas,
values in conflict, questions in search of answers—all of this going on along
with the story. I could just be obtuse, but I could never find much of that in
this novel. There seemed to be little going on under the surface.
My interest rarely
flagged, but it was mostly because the point of view kept shifting and there
was always the question of what we’d learn about the disappearance of the third
brother, Simon. The end of a novel, which is normally where plot conflicts are
resolved, is often where issues in the subtext get resolved, too. But looking
there I see only a kind of fading out of whatever animated the preceding
chapters.
The narrative leaps
ahead from 1871 to the 1890s, summing up the 20-25 years that pass and
accounting finally for the meaning of the book’s title. A tone of loss and
melancholy pervades these last chapters, ending with a scene in which there’s
another revelation of note for one of the protagonists. But when I try to connect all the
dots of the novel, they won’t add up.
Like I say, it’s a
quibble. For most readers of frontier fiction, The Last Crossing will be an exciting adventure, for it offers
an extended immersion in a time and place in much the way McMurtry does in Lonesome
Dove. It was that way for me,
but that’s all it was. The Last Crossing is currently available at amazon, Barnes&Noble, Powell’s Books, and AbeBooks.
Image credits: Wikimedia Commons
Coming up: Loren D. Estelman, Gun Man
I've not read this one, Ron, so can't really comment except to say that I hope you'll tackle another Vanderhaeghe. Your pieces are always interesting.
ReplyDeleteOne small correction, if I may. I think the Governor General's Awards is the closest thing we have to the National Book Awards. Canada Reads is a "battle of the books" in which five names (actors, musicians, politicians, athletes) provide arguments as to why their chosen book should be read by Canadians. As in a crummy reality show, one book is "voted off" each day until a new title is "crowned". The unpleasant competition is played out annually on CBC Radio 1.
Championed by Jim Cuddy of Blue Rodeo fame, The Last Crossing won in 2004, beating out works by Mordecai Richler, Alice Munro, Monique Proulx and Thomas King.
Thanks, Brian, for the clarification. I read a Canadian edition of the novel, which proudly sports the "Canada Reads" seal on the cover. Doing a little research, I see what you mean. Vanderhaeghe seems not even to have been on the short list for the GG Award for fiction that year.
DeleteNor did it make the shortlist for the Giller - something akin to the Pultizer. A bit of a comedown given that Vanderhaeghe's previous novel, The Englishman's Boy, won the GG. But then these annual awards are crap shoots, aren't they.
DeleteOn the other hand, what Canada Reads lacks in prestige it makes up in sales (hence the seal). I may be down on it, but as with Oprah's Book Club the show gets people reading.
If there is minimal story and the material barely coheres, then perhaps this was intended to be a literary novel. Such novels, much honored by the intelligentsia, downplay story and focus on relationships and character, the purpose being to give the reader a satisfying grasp of the characters and circumstances of their lives. Popular fiction usually is based on telling a story that comes to a climax and conclusion.
ReplyDeleteWell, that is a succinct way of putting it. Thanks.
DeleteI only recently read Lonesome Dove and enjoyed it quite a lot, although it took me a while to get through it. I like the idea of sprawling epics more than in reality it seems
ReplyDeleteThanks for the fine review of this book. Haven't made up my mind about reading it, 400 pages is a lot anymore.
ReplyDeleteI grant you; it was a long haul.
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