Larry Watson Weekend
This past weekend was hot (over 90 F), and Deb was out of commission, napping for many hours after a fun visit from my nephew and his mother. We had gone to a thrift store and I picked up Larry Watson's "White Crosses" for a dollar.
For some reason, we had a couple copies of his earlier novel "Montana 1948", that I had never read. I spent much of Saturday reading White Crosses, and then Sunday I read the shorter, earlier novel. Montana 1948 was well-paced, spare, and ultimately pretty satisfying. White Crosses was none of those things. Both novels take place in the flat plains in the northeast corner of Montana, near North Dakota and Saskatchewan. Like a few of Annie Proulx' excellent Wyoming stories in "Close Range", both of the Watson novels deal with the sorts of aberrant behavior we tend not to associate with wide open western ranchlands.
In White Crosses, the town sheriff decides to construct this elaborate lie to cover up someone else's misbehavior. I never did see what was the point of that whole construction. It did reinforce what I call my "Denver prejudice". That's the one that unfairly characterizes that city's personality as that of the pioneers who took one look at the Rockies and said "I'm not going across THOSE mountains!"
Anyway, I highly recommend "Close Range" (which I read a year or two ago), and if you're interested in high plains ranch life, "Montana 1948".
11:03:38 PM
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