Showing posts with label nevada. Show all posts
Showing posts with label nevada. Show all posts

Monday, September 30, 2013

Bob Stockton, Counting Coup


Coup were the bragging rights earned by Plains Indians on the field of battle between tribes. Counting coup was the ceremonial recital of a warrior’s achievements, be they merely touching an enemy, striking, wounding or killing him and taking a scalp. This historical novel is a recital of episodes in the frontier life of trapper, scout, and Indian fighter, Kit Carson. 

Plot.  The central character is Tom Adams, formerly a captain in the Union Army during the War Between the States. Adventure has drawn him to California, and the novel is structured around his interviews with Jeb Ford, a man who knew Carson.

Ford is a crusty mountain man who fetches up in Carson City, Nevada, where Adams has taken a job as agent for Wells Fargo express. Much of the novel reads like a verbatim transcript of Ford’s graphic recollections of encounters with hostile Indians. The closing chapters retell the story of engagements between Americans and Californios in the war with Mexico.

Quite a number of other historical figures walk the pages of the novel, including John Fremont, Gen. Kearny, Sam Clemens, and Commodore “Fighting Bob” Stockton, a predecessor of the book’s author. They are joined by a dozen others, unknown or forgotten, ranging from a ship’s captain, a telegraph operator, and a barmaid to “Emperor” Joshua Norton I, a deranged but beloved man who roamed the streets of San Francisco. For me, the most fascinating part of the novel came at the end, where Stockton describes what happened in later life to each of his characters.

San Francisco, Portsmouth Square, 1851
Also of interest is what we learn of the Wells Fargo’s express business, running coaches and freight wagons between Sacramento and Carson City, Nevada. And readers get a short history lesson from the days of California’s Bear Flag Republic and General Kearny’s near defeat at the hands of Gen. Pico outside San Diego.

As winter descends in Stockton’s novel (and in Ann Parker’s Silver Lies, reviewed here recently), a reader is reminded of how westerners had to endure snow and bitter cold. The traditional Hollywood western, usually shot in Southern California or Arizona, made the West seem always summery. But the novelist, without needing to resort to special effects, can let the snow fly and the temperatures drop.

Monday, January 28, 2013

James D. Best, The Shopkeeper


Review and interview

This is an old-fashioned western in a way that goes back to the western’s roots. For the closest comparison, I’d offer Francis Lynde’s first novel, The Grafters, which was published in 1905. Both novels tell of a newcomer to the West who gets involved in a political intrigue, where influence is bought and sold, and greed rules the workings of government.

Both novels are tightly plotted with twists, turns, and surprises aplenty. One of them is Best’s central character himself, Steve Dancy, the shopkeeper of the title. He’s not the usual tenderfoot from the east, the fish out of water you find in Zane Grey. Nor is he the traditional cowboy drifter Louis L’Amour liked.

He’s comfortably well off, having acquired a bankroll through some shrewd investments. He stays at the best hotel in town and eats at the best cafĂ©, where he lingers over meals indulging an appetite for good reading. We find him in the midst of a Melville novel and looking forward to getting a copy of Mark Twain’s new book, Tom Sawyer.

While modern western writers tend to dwell on makes and models of firearms, as if readers were gun show enthusiasts, Dancy has good reason for being a gun expert. Until he left the business, he was a gunsmith. And years of practice have made him a marksman. A few short days after his arrival in a silver mining camp, Pickhandle Gulch, he has eliminated two nasty thugs who’ve been disturbing the peace. And thus the novel’s plot is set in motion.

Shoshone mine and mill complex, Nevada, 1907

Plot. The arch villain of the novel is a rich mine owner, Washburn, who has acquired his wealth by jumping other men’s claims. With his money he’s bought law officers, public officials, and judges, and he’s attempting to install a governor in the next election. He hires a contract killer, Sprague, to wipe out any man who becomes an intractable nuisance. Dancy soon qualifies himself as a target.

Without giving too much away, let it be said that Washburn and Sprague are eventually “neutralized.” But not until after the introduction of several Pinkertons, the buying of a bank, the writing of a forged letter, and the use of a derringer hidden in a woman’s dress. There’s even a demo of how to dress a sage hen.

The plot takes its central characters from dusty Pickhandle Gulch to Carson City. Key scenes take place on the days-long trail between the two settlements. There are stopovers at an Army fort and a ranch, where a young widow and her battleaxe of a mother-in-law are in a fierce contest of wills. And bustling though it may be, Dancy finds the state capital little different from “all the other collections of slapdash buildings that Nevada called towns.”

Nevada Great Basin (CC) Brynn

Style. The story is deftly told in first person. An intelligent and resourceful man, Dancy makes a good teller of his own story. He’s thoroughly reliable as a narrator but doesn’t always let you in on what he’s up to. He may even reveal something important to another character, but you have to wait until matters unfold to find out for yourself.

Clever, that. It intensifies the suspense, which builds steadily as Dancy’s schemes put him in greater danger of being the next name to be crossed off Sprague’s to-do list. A confrontation bristling with malice in a hotel dining room produces a reversal that had me laugh out loud with surprise and relief. That hasn’t happened since I was reading Carol Buchanan’s God’s Thunderbolt, reviewed here a while ago.

Best also grounds the story in history, with occasional references to Nevada’s past. There’s mention of a pony express route through the state and Nevada’s admission to the Union during the Civil War. He casts his Pinkertons as aids to law and order, when they are often portrayed in fiction as hired agents of greedy corporate clients.

While thoroughly professional, Captain McAllen often finds himself at odds with Dancy, who has to keep reminding him that he has hired McAllen, and that makes Dancy the boss. Still, he respects and needs McAllen, and the fine line both men must walk with each other gives their working relationship an added complexity.

Capitol, Carson City (CC) Urban
Romance. Best gives Dancy a curious weakness of character. It does not qualify as a flaw exactly and is more a sign of a human nature that underlies his coolly rational style of problem solving and risk management. Still, the way it clouds his judgment troubles him. Put simply, he has a fatal attraction for the young widow, Jenny.

Part of that attraction is a wish to rescue her from the lecherous clutch of other men. There’s a spark of life in her pretty self that draws him like a moth to the flame. He doesn’t seem to notice that she’s tougher than nails and hardly in need of a helping hand. And he can’t fathom his own impulse to settle down with her in the godforsaken isolation of Nevada’s outback.

Lovers of western romance may be disappointed in the way all this turns out. It comes as no surprise in the end that there is no Jenny in Dancy’s future. She seems happy enough to share the ranch house with another woman, also named Jenny. A thoroughly independent person, she tells him, “I need a friend, not a lover.”

Wrapping up. The Shopkeeper is one heck of a novel. As it ventures into matters of politics, the law, business, and finance, you might call it a thinking reader’s western. Its cast of characters is easy to believe in, and the storytelling is taut and well polished. Complications are neatly and plausibly resolved after many pages of suspenseful tension.

Dancy is the kind of man you’d like to meet and get to know. And it’s good to know that Best has written more novels featuring his well-drawn “shopkeeper.” You can find Best at his website here. His novels and other books are currently available at amazon and Barnes&Noble. 

James D. Best
Interview

James Best has generously agreed to spend some time with us today talking about writing and the writing of the Steve Dancy novels. So I’m turning the rest of this page over to him.

Jim, how did the idea for The Shopkeeper suggest itself to you?
I always liked fish-out-of-water stories. In The Virginian by Owen Wister, the narrator came from the East to provide fresh eyes to tell us about the American frontier. I thought it would be fun if the Easterner was a participant in the story rather than just an observer. At any rate, that is how I came up with the idea for The Shopkeeper. As a nod to The Virginian, the characters play whist as the cowboys did in Wister’s book.

Was the published version similar to how you first conceived it or somewhat different?
The storyline remained as I originally wrote it. The first version was shorter, but a publisher asked me to lengthen it, so I added several new chapters rather than pad the existing story. I tend to write the story first, then do the research. This way the story drives the research instead of research driving the story.

Talk a bit about editing and revising. After completing a first draft, did it go through any key changes?
I start each day by revising what I wrote the prior day. This is the way I put my head back in the story. As a result, when I print the manuscript to edit for plot, clarity, and continuity, I consider it a second draft. I’ll generally continue to make big revisions up to this point. The next step is to give printed copies to three people I trust to give me honest feedback. They give me good story suggestions and fact-check.

Although it’s infrequent, I’ll occasionally make a big plot revision as a result of their readings. This is usually after I stomp around for a couple days in a snit because I refuse to believe they’re right. Once my emotional response recedes, it’s possible for me to take a cold look and make a better decision.

After this step, I believe the manuscript is perfect and send it to a professional editor. Lo and behold, it comes back with metaphorical red ink on every page. As I review each edit, time has provided a fresh perspective, so I sometimes adjust the plot and make other changes. Finally, there is proofreading, which is mostly nip and tuck.

How did you go about deciding on the novel’s title?
I wanted a title that was a bit of misdirection. The Shopkeeper sounds innocent and non-standard for a traditional Western. I’m not sure that was a good marketing choice, but it seems to work for people who have committed to reading the book. The character of the protagonist comes across as a surprise.

Thursday, June 14, 2012

A. B. Ward, The Sage Brush Parson (1906)

I didn’t expect much from this book, but it turned out to be full of surprises. Early westerns about parsons tend either toward the saccharine or the farcical, as the man of the cloth is held up either to praise or to scorn. There’s a fine line between, where he’s portrayed in three dimensions like any other character—warts and all. And this novel comes real close to succeeding.

The parson in this case is a young Methodist minister from England, who shows up in a mining camp in Nevada. Clement Vaughan by name, he gets to be known familiarly as “C.V.” Sincere, idealistic, and not in the least sanctimonious, he has a winning way about him that invites trust. It helps that he can ride a difficult horse, which in the West is typically the test of manhood.

Plot. Vaughan has left the seminary and taken up medicine when we first meet him. He has a wife, Delia, back home in England with aspirations of living a comfortable life in America as a doctor’s wife. The hunger for spiritual guidance he finds in the raucous mining camp of Eureka gives him a change of heart, and he sets up shop in an abandoned church.

Comstock miners, Nevada, 1880s
The way to building a following is smoothed by the friendship of a saloon owner, Jack Perry, a retired lawman. Perry, who carries considerable weight in town, takes an instant liking to the young man and is untroubled by Methodism’s opposition to drinking and dancing. He seems to believe that church going gives stability to a community and contributes to public morale. Methodism’s appeal to the working class also makes the church a gathering place for the miners and cowboys and their families.

The conflict in the story is not between a well-meaning minister and a town full of sinners. Once Jack Perry takes an interest, the church quickly fills. Even the poorest and least educated among the townfolk are inspired by Vaughan's sermons and his example. He comes to understand their guilt and their need for admonishing and absolution and speaks to the spark of the divine that he sees in all of them.

This all sounds pretty pious, but Ward pulls it off by never allowing Vaughan a holier-than-thou moment. He’s just a decent guy trying to alleviate the human suffering he sees around him. It helps that he’s bright, endearing, and a good talker.

George Wharton James, the "Sage Brush Parson"
Romance. The residents of town who disapprove of him are the well-to-do whose social position puts them in the pews of the tonier Episcopal church. Arthur Sinclair owns a mine that allows him to live in a grand house. His widowed sister, Katharine, lives with him. She’s a lady of considerable refinements, who discovers a man of some polish under Vaughan’s rough exterior.

Impatient with the snobbery of her small circle, she allows her interest in Vaughan to become progressively personal. Her affection for him veers toward much deeper feelings, as his does for her. But as she crosses the barrier of social class between them, allowing herself a “forbidden” love, the plot takes a melodramatic turn.

Who should show up on the scene but Vaughan’s estranged wife and their infant child. She hasn’t given up her dream of being a doctor’s wife and demands that he return to England to be the man she married. To hell with his dream of saving souls in this abysmal mining camp.

Word that Vaughan has been secretly married all this time scandalizes the community, and his congregation begins to fall apart. Many of the men stay loyal, but the women flee in droves, including the organist. Meanwhile, Katharine feels betrayed and humiliated.

Matters worsen when Vaughan’s angry wife and their child jump (or are pushed by him) to their deaths from a cliff. Taken to jail for his safety from a lynch-minded element in town, Vaughan does not deny responsibility for the demise of his spouse.