I came across this novel while doing
research for my book on early frontier fiction. It joins a long list of novels
and stories set in mining camps of the West. Like many of them, it tells a
cautionary tale of lives ruined by gold fever and the get-rich-quick mania that
drove adventurers for half a century to places like Deadwood, California, and
the Klondike.
Prospectors and miners had long been at
the center of the growing mythology of the Old West, along with the cowboy. Yet
the cowboy, representing a different set of values came to dominate western
fiction. Less materialistic, maybe, the cowboy came to stand for more admirable
qualities of character.
Sudden wealth and the effort to acquire it
were generally not part of the cowboy ethos. The prospector, as a stock
character of western fiction, then evolved into a secretive, anti-social
outlier, likely to be half-crazed from prolonged isolation and lack of human
contact. Very much the opposite of the cowboy.
Characters. Neihardt explores the dark side of mining camp life, following the stories of several men and women whose lives have led them to a placer mining gulch in the Black Hills of South Dakota. Most are foolish in some way, expecting fortune to come easily or living off the labor of others, like parasites. Some take advantage of gullible newcomers to the gold fields. Some are gamblers or saloon owners, “mining the miners,” as one puts it.
John G. Neihardt |
No one acquires the wealth or the social status
that wealth promises to win them. Struggling for days to return to his Indiana
home with a heavy bag of what he assumes is gold dust, one character discovers
that the bag contains worthless mica dust instead. A man cuckolded by his
partner leaves him to drown in the rising waters of a mineshaft.
Themes. On another level the novel is an object
lesson in the inequalities of an economic and social system that favors capital
over labor. Money doesn’t work for you, a well-to-do man is told. His family
inheritance is not an asset but a debt owed to the men who worked whole lives at
a dollar a day to produce it. Meanwhile, as a “gentleman,” he is above working
for money and shuns an offer to partner with another man as owner of a saloon.
However, he quickly changes his tune with the next mail from his wife in New
York who is growing tired of waiting for his promised gold strike.
It’s a Faustian tale, and like
Mephistopheles, the most intriguing character is Louis Devlin, the gentleman
gambler who finds his future business partner, Sam Drake, in Sidney, Nebraska.
He woos him with loans of money and apparently no strings attached. Drake, for
him, is an easy mark. He has accepted his wealth and social position without
question, as his due. A well-bred man of 30 years, he believes in Fate and his “inalienable
right to a fortune.”
Deadwood Gulch, 1876 |
As a gambler, Devlin compares himself to a
phlebotomist, bleeding fevered players back to health. Rather than work with
pick and shovel, he looks for the vein of human folly. Find that hunger for
winning at cards and let the other man hold a pair of deuces, while you have a royal
flush. “Who’s hurt?” he asks, “No one.”
When Drake is repelled by the idea of
making a living from “dirty money” as a saloon owner, Devlin asks him if there
is such a thing as a clean dollar. And he certainly has no sympathy for the
poor. Poverty, he says, has canonized itself, making “a sham sanctity of having
nothing.” The poor have built for themselves a church with “an imaginative
limbo of eternal joy” for them as underdogs, “an exclusive aristocracy of
self-glorified ragamuffins.”
Deadwood, 1876 |
Down through a
forest alley that widened out toward the bottom of a gulch a thousand feet
below, he saw the black and purple hills, at once convulsed and silent, like a
sea of ink struck dumb and motionless at the height of tempest. A lonesome,
lonesome world! Just as God left it with the mud sticking to his fingers.
The overall tone of the novel is fairly
bleak as Neihardt segues from one plot thread to another. You sense from the
start that it will all end in tears. You just don’t know what depths of
misfortune he will drag his characters through.
There is one exception. Prostitution in
early frontier fiction is normally introduced with only carefully polite
suggestion. But Neihardt gives it an
unexpected wry twist. When Nellie, a dance hall girl, becomes pregnant, one of
the men goes to the saloon to take up a collection for her, reminding the
likely father among them of his duty to her as a provider. When the hat is
passed for pinches of gold dust, 27 of the men have contributed.
Wrapping up. Born in
Illinois, John Neihardt (1881-1973) grew up in eastern Nebraska and as a young
man lived in Bancroft, near the Omaha reservation. A poet, he developed a life-long
interest in Native American cultures. Much of his writing concerns the
settlement of the West and the displacement of the Indians. His best-known
work, Black Elk Speaks, was first
published in 1932.
Life’s Lure is currently available at google books
and Internet Archive. For more of Friday’s Forgotten Books, click on over to
Patti Abbott’s blog.
Further reading:
Image credits:
Author photo, nebraskahistory.org
Wikimedia Commons
Author photo, nebraskahistory.org
Wikimedia Commons
Coming up: Glossary of frontier fiction
I can hardly imagine what it was like to live in such a camp as these for an extended time. Talk about roughing it.
ReplyDeleteIt's why the RV was invented.
DeleteEvery economic system, whatever it's stated intent, ultimately values the rare over the readily available. Brilliance, good looks, talent. Had the Soviet Union been a success, most of us contributing to this board, would have made the commissar class, or beyond.
ReplyDeleteIndeed. In these novels from 100 years ago, that honor typically goes to the "gentleman."
Delete