Every now and then I like to take a break from my current readings (military history) and go in a very different direction. An unexpected change of direction can be fun and help recharge the batteries. The western novel is one of those directions that I like to go on now and again. Bubblegum for the brain and what's wrong with that?
The Western has been described as the male equivalent to the romance novel. Both genres have a set number of stereotypical characters, five or six (eight?) recycled plot-lines and a nice comfortable sameness to them. Change the names and maybe a few details (the male hero is forty instead of thirty, blonde instead of brunette and so on) and you have a Western. That's an excellent comparison - very astute. Oh and in the case of Desert Crossing our hero has an eye patch.
Published in 1961 ,at the height of the Western's popularity in the United States, Desert Crossing is nothing new. Our resourceful and laconic hero has to get several wagons of Army rifles ,and other supplies, through Indian held territory in the Arizona territory in the early 1880's. At first he wants nothing to do with the job. He's a civilian in charge of the freight itself. There are Army troops along for security, but in a just a few pages it's obvious that the people in charge are either incompetent or get themselves killed leaving our hero no choice but to step up. Of course he does so and quickly proves himself to be brave and very capable. Naturally this he-man of the Southwest wins over the heart of our beautiful lass from the civilized and soft East (guess the 700,000 folks who recently died in the Civil War ,fought mostly in the "soft" Eastern part of the U.S., were just a bunch of wimps) and she falls in love with him in about three or four hours. It's hardly a spoiler to tell you that there is a happy ending. This is not a genre that is part of the Post-modern school of writing. It's old-school pulp-fiction (though in 1960 it would just been a cheap paperback novel) and sometimes I just want something chewy.
Frederick Dilley Glidden (aka Luke short) was a pulp-fiction writer. He started writing in the 1930's and continued to write right up until his death in 1975. If he ever had any regrets that he never wrote the Great American Novel or was unable to contribute to Humanity's understanding of the Human Condition it was never recorded. Say what you will about his choice of genre the man was one of those professional writers who was very good at what he did (see Dean Koontz - sorry Mr. King) and gave his fans what they wanted.
Desert Crossing is entertaining. There is no irony or cynicism or Post-Modern Existentialist Dread running through the story. It's an action novel set in the 1800's in the Arizona Territory. The physical details are competently described and you feel the heat and dirt. Glidden does a good job of transporting you to this setting and keeps you turning the pages until the story is done. At 155 pages it's a very fast read and I literally ripped through it in a few hours. There are a few cliches, but not as nearly as you might expect. Glidden might have read his share of Zane Grey, but he came of age in the mid-Twentieth Century and his writing style is not like Grey's late Victorian/Edwardian scribblings. The writing is more relaxed and stays away from the sexual and racial cliches that can be found in Grey's novels.
Alright so my batteries are now recharged. I've had my break. Time to charge back into 1944 and the chaos and destruction of World War II. Hmmmm. Maybe I'll look for a detective novel next.
The Western has been described as the male equivalent to the romance novel. Both genres have a set number of stereotypical characters, five or six (eight?) recycled plot-lines and a nice comfortable sameness to them. Change the names and maybe a few details (the male hero is forty instead of thirty, blonde instead of brunette and so on) and you have a Western. That's an excellent comparison - very astute. Oh and in the case of Desert Crossing our hero has an eye patch.
Published in 1961 ,at the height of the Western's popularity in the United States, Desert Crossing is nothing new. Our resourceful and laconic hero has to get several wagons of Army rifles ,and other supplies, through Indian held territory in the Arizona territory in the early 1880's. At first he wants nothing to do with the job. He's a civilian in charge of the freight itself. There are Army troops along for security, but in a just a few pages it's obvious that the people in charge are either incompetent or get themselves killed leaving our hero no choice but to step up. Of course he does so and quickly proves himself to be brave and very capable. Naturally this he-man of the Southwest wins over the heart of our beautiful lass from the civilized and soft East (guess the 700,000 folks who recently died in the Civil War ,fought mostly in the "soft" Eastern part of the U.S., were just a bunch of wimps) and she falls in love with him in about three or four hours. It's hardly a spoiler to tell you that there is a happy ending. This is not a genre that is part of the Post-modern school of writing. It's old-school pulp-fiction (though in 1960 it would just been a cheap paperback novel) and sometimes I just want something chewy.
Frederick Dilley Glidden (aka Luke short) was a pulp-fiction writer. He started writing in the 1930's and continued to write right up until his death in 1975. If he ever had any regrets that he never wrote the Great American Novel or was unable to contribute to Humanity's understanding of the Human Condition it was never recorded. Say what you will about his choice of genre the man was one of those professional writers who was very good at what he did (see Dean Koontz - sorry Mr. King) and gave his fans what they wanted.
Desert Crossing is entertaining. There is no irony or cynicism or Post-Modern Existentialist Dread running through the story. It's an action novel set in the 1800's in the Arizona Territory. The physical details are competently described and you feel the heat and dirt. Glidden does a good job of transporting you to this setting and keeps you turning the pages until the story is done. At 155 pages it's a very fast read and I literally ripped through it in a few hours. There are a few cliches, but not as nearly as you might expect. Glidden might have read his share of Zane Grey, but he came of age in the mid-Twentieth Century and his writing style is not like Grey's late Victorian/Edwardian scribblings. The writing is more relaxed and stays away from the sexual and racial cliches that can be found in Grey's novels.
Alright so my batteries are now recharged. I've had my break. Time to charge back into 1944 and the chaos and destruction of World War II. Hmmmm. Maybe I'll look for a detective novel next.
