This breakout novel from the author of The Jump-Off Creek tells the heartwarming story of a determined young woman with a gift for gentling wild horses.
In the winter of 1917, a big-boned young woman shows up at George Bliss's doorstep. She's looking for a job breaking horses, and he hires her on. Many of his regular hands are off fighting the war, and he glimpses, beneath her showy rodeo garb, a shy but strong-willed girl with a serious knowledge of horses.
So begins the irresistible tale of nineteen-year-old Martha Lessen, a female horse whisperer trying to make a go of it in a man's world. It was thought that the only way to break a horse was to buck the wild out of it, and broken ribs and tough falls just went with the job.
But over several long, hard winter months, many of the townsfolk in this remote county of eastern Oregon witness Martha's way of talking in low, sweet tones to horses believed beyond repair and getting miraculous, almost immediate results and she thereby earns a place of respect in the community.
Along the way, Martha helps a family save their horses when their wagon slides into a ravine. She gentles a horse for a dying man a last gift to his young son. She clashes with a hired hand who is abusing horses in unspeakable ways. Soon, despite her best efforts to remain aloof and detached, she comes to feel enveloped by a sense of community and family that she's never had before.
With the elegant sweetness of Plainsong and a pitch-perfect sense of western life reminiscent of Annie Dillard, The Hearts of Horses is a remarkable story about how people and animals make connections and touch each other's lives in the most unexpected and profound ways.
Molly Gloss is a fourth-generation Oregonian who lives in Portland.
Her novel The Jump-Off Creek was a finalist for the PEN/Faulkner Award for American Fiction, and a winner of both the Pacific Northwest Booksellers Award and the Oregon Book Award. In 1996 Molly was a recipient of a Whiting Writers Award.
The Dazzle of Day was named a New York Times Notable Book and was awarded the PEN Center West Fiction Prize.
Wild Life won the James Tiptree Jr. Award and was chosen as the 2002 selection for "If All Seattle Read the Same Book."
I met Molly Gloss when I was in high school in Eastern Oregon, the setting for her beautiful novel, . She was a local hero for the simple reason that she wrote about our world, our hills, our familiar tamarack forests and sagebrush, our quiet people and the lives they lead. In a state best known for Portland and the accessibility of natural wonder to the urban I-5 corridor, it was a refreshing bit of acknowledgment to see real - published! - art showing an interest in and sensitivity to the rural eastern expanse of the state.
Not to wax too nostalgic: I didn't like growing up there. To me, the hills were beautiful, boring boundaries carefully dividing my sheltered little town from the weird, varied world I knew existed outside the valley. People were mean, and small-minded, and often simple and hateful. I was mocked until I got too strange, and then I was just feared; stupid, superficial things like purple hair and noserings became metaphysical symbols of all that the down-home culture despised, and they made damn sure I knew it.
It is odd, then, that a book like this should come along - a tender, honest portrait of a small community in Eastern Oregon, not directly inside the valley where I lived, but near by a county or two, which in rural terms means practically the same place - and completely break my heart. Never have I had so much longing for a thing I never loved.
First of all, don't judge a book by its cover. No, really. Never in a thousand years would I have chosen to read something with a golden sunset and a girl-on-horseback silhouette. Hell, I even try to avoid anything with the word "heart" in the title, unless it's closely followed by "darkness." If you can't get past it, I recommend wrapping the book in a plain brown wrapper and pushing on through, because if you don't, you will miss one of the more interesting examinations of small-town life, and with it, a young female hero demonstrating perfectly that role models don't need to be princesses, warriors, or ravishingly beautiful to be strong and, more importantly, real.
I'd call this book almost a sequel to Monte Walsh by Jack Schaefer, and I consider Monte Walsh one of the perfect novels. The writing is superb, in that run-on raconteur style that feels like the easy canter of a horse. It's 1917, and young Martha Leeson leaves home to become an itinerant bronco buster, only she's a horse whisperer instead and she doesn't get that far from home, either.
This book works on so many levels, I hardly know where to begin. It's a book about World War I at home, it's a book about coming of age, it's a book about the loss of the American West, it's about the failed government program to settle the West with farmers, it's about the American cowboy, only this time she's a girl. The circle ride is a terrific device for telling not only Martha's story but the stories of all the ranchers and farmers for whom she is breaking horses, not to mention a look through Gloss's eyes at the loneliness and beauty of the eastern Oregon landscape.
But mostly this is a story about Martha, a young woman from an abusive home who is so lonely and unsocialized (for lack of a better word) that she literally doesn't know what people mean when they speak to her. As she breaks the horses, so does the community gentle her into being one of their own.
What a surprise! The cover is so off-putting, along with the title, that if it hadn't been given to me from the library just before I got on a plane with nothing else to read I probably wouldnt have looked at it twice. It's fabulous! There is none of the sappy, over emotionalized nonsense you might expect from a book about a woman who gentles horses in the early years of WWI. Instead, it's very well-written, with deep, extremely real characters in whom humanity truly exists. Molly Gloss takes the reader on a little expedition through the hearts and minds of the people in Eastern OR farming and ranching in a time of universal upheaval which would continue until, quite possibly, nowadays. But at the same time these people are going through birth, death, love, cruelty, honesty and dishonesty and muddling their way along in the eternal way of things. Being a somewhat secret lover of horses myself I appreciated the subject matter, and particular liked the way Gloss addressed it - without sentimentalism or anthropomorphising the horses. What a lovely book!
In this winter of 1917, a young woman in eastern Oregon takes a chance and leaves her abusive father and strikes out on her own. She intends to see if other ranches need help, about all she can do is break horses and get them ready to ride. And fortunately for her, all of the young men are off to war in Europe that would normally be do this kind work. And within a short time she has several ranches signed up.
It’s too bad about the title and cover. This is a lovely work of literary historical fiction, which happens to feature a protagonist who trains horses, but which neither anthropomorphizes nor is sentimental about them. Really it’s a story about the hearts of humans: how they live together and love one another. It’s the first winter of America’s involvement in WWI, and the shy but tough 19-year-old Martha Lessen arrives in a rural Oregon county looking for work. Which she finds gentling horses for eight local families; this allows the author to dip into many lives, with a strong sense of compassion and understanding of people and relationships.
So Martha is the protagonist, and hers is a fairly standard though well-told story of finding community and love after a rough childhood. But she’s also the catalyst for other characters� stories, which occupy just as much of our time. There’s the “German� couple ostracized by many of their neighbors (they are German in that his family immigrated from there, and she married him). There’s the woman who splits wood to feed her three young children and alcoholic husband. There’s the educated farmer dying of cancer � which at the time had no real treatment � and the stalwart wife who must confront the reality of his illness and death every day.
This is a very well-written book, told in a measured, contemplative way; when there is excitement, the book is more interested in how the characters manage their situations and how those situations affect them than in action for its own sake. The omniscient narrator drops into the heads of various characters in a natural way, and also fills us in on local history and on the times. Writing 90 years later during another overseas war, the author seems particularly interested in the culture of wartime America.
Overall, this is a wise, warm and observant character-driven novel with social commentary. Be warned that it takes awhile to get going; I wasn’t hooked until somewhere between pages 50 and 75. But it was well worth the investment, and I enjoyed it as much as Gloss’s stand-out epistolary novel, , though they are very different books. I look forward to reading more of her work soon.
I never would have looked twice at this book, had I not heard the author speak at MPIBA. Her speech, though it had nothing to do with the book, was impressive enough (and I heard enough people saying they couldn't put the book down) that I had to give it a chance. If the following description doesn't sound like your normal cup of tea, just know that it isn't mine, either. And yet.
The story takes place in the American West at the beginning of the first World War, when the young men were just starting to be sent away from the farms. The main character is a woman who makes her living moving from town to town breaking horses. The back of the galley copy says that the book is about "a woman trying to make her way in a man's world," or something, but it isn't about that at all. It is about the simple strength and courage of the families and individuals living in that very particular place and time. The story is quiet and unassuming, no fireworks, just people trying to get by. It's like a less dramatic John Steinbeck. Sort of. (No offense to Steinbeck, whom I love.)
I know that doesn't sound very exciting, but, as I said, I was very much taken by surprise and felt compelled to read the entirety of this book that is completely outside of my normal reading habits. And that, I think, says a good deal for the story, the characters, and the author.
I am head over heels in love with this book. I lived with the characters and feel I'd met each of them. This is inspiring and yet down to earth and realistic. The writing is superb. The history interesting and accurate. A young girl leaves her family in 1917 and travels on horseback to eastern Oregon (near me) to "gentle" horses. She is a horse whisperer, and that is what led me to the story. I haven't been on horseback since I was 6 years old, but if you are a lover of horses, you will truly fall in love with this book as I did. The community of people she meets and the work she does are all believable and three dimensional. This is during the First World War and its impact on regular people is well handled, as are patriotism and prejudices. A precursing of wars to come. The wars in my lifetime had less sacrifice on the home front other than those drafted and those who served. I would put this book in the same category of excellence as A Man Called Ove and The Book Woman of Troublesome Creek, to give you an idea. Do yourself a favor and read this wonderful book.
This is an absolutely amazing book. It takes place over a six month period from the fall of 1917 through the spring of 1918 in cattle country in Oregon. It's a wonderful story of a shy young woman, more at home with horses than people, who comes into the valley to offer to break horses for various farmers and ranchers. And, of course, it is the story of those ranchers and farmers that she meets. Even with the background of the war and of the surfacing of human meanness, this is a gentle book--and a fun one. Many of the characters reminded me of family and friends I grew up with--after all, my grandfather still used horses on his farm in a limited way before he moved off the farm in the early 1950s.
I wish the library had a copy of this book, but they only had the audiobook. The pace felt too slow in audio format � and never fully engaging, even though I like reading about animals in historical settings. Set in 1917 during WWI in northwestern Oregon, a shy 19-year-old works as a horse breaker (whisperer). Martha rides a circle of about 15 miles, stopping at about five ranches along the route to continually work with her students � four-footed charges. The horses love her gentle approach and soon willingly accept a saddle. It’s the humans that give Martha the biggest trouble. But there’s also friendship and even romance.
There are several memorable scenes in this book, but I wanted more of the focus on the horses. Also, the historical aspects were interesting and well researched, but not well integrated into the story. They felt like an expository digression.
This book is spare yet beautiful, just like life in southwest Oregon during WWI. Martha Lessen is a nineteen year old cowgirl, looking for working gentling horses. Her path through the ranches in the valley of the Little Bird Woman River gives the reader a window into the lives of the families of the horses she gentles, families worrying about their young men going off to war, facing discrimination because of German heritage, dealing with alcoholism or sickness, and the realities of ranch life. We spend a fall and winter with them, as Martha attends church and a dance, is invited to a ice skating party up in the mountain, and slowly grows to trust one particular man named Henry, who is good to horses. Because you can tell a lot about someone by the way they treat horses. I loved Martha and I loved all the horses. Dolly is a one of Martha's horses who got burnt in a fire but who is very good at keeping the horses Martha is training in line. Mata Hari is a beautiful chestnut mare who is far more trustworthy than her name would lead you to think. Maude is a palomino who doesn't know how beautiful she is. They all respond to Martha's soft voice and true horse sense. Martha is herself like one of the horses, unused to society, and a bit skittish. As one other reviewer put it, as she gentles the horses, the kindness shown to her gentles her in turn. Recommended to horse lovers and readers of historical fiction, especially those with interest in the Pacific Northwest.
Well, it's been proven: you can still write a novel with an omniscient narrator. I don't pretend that setting it in the historical past (the U.S. homefront during WWI) doesn't help, but it can obviously still be done, and done well.
Apart from settling that debate, is an enjoyable read, more page-turning than its quiet, even-tempered tone would initially give you cause to guess. It may prompt you to chuckle in company, and, when pressed, explain lamely, "Just horses being horses." It gives you a sense of these animals, these people, and even this country, even though they are invented from hoof to hillock. It's a beautiful trip you'll be glad to have taken.
Books about horses join a stable of well-loved titles foaled by Black Beauty in 1877. Over the years, Anna Sewell's only novel, which she called "the autobiography of a horse," has sold more than 50 million copies, and more recent titles, such as Nicholas Evans's "The Horse Whisperer," Laura Hillenbrand's "Seabiscuit" and Jane Smiley's "Horse Heaven," have kept readers stampeding to the bookstore.
I don't know if Molly Gloss's lovely new novel will spur such intense interest, but I hope so. The Hearts of Horses is set in northeastern Oregon in 1917, the twilight of the Old West when that way of life was already legendary. The story begins, as such legends must, with a mysterious figure riding into view on a badly scarred mare. But Gloss immediately begins to transform these worn conventions. This stranger is 19-year-old Martha Lessen, the first girl anyone in these parts "had seen advertising herself as a broncobuster." Since most of the young men who worked these farms have headed off to the war in Europe, Martha is "looking for horses that needed breaking out." She sets aside her natural bashfulness long enough to tell a skeptical rancher, "I can gentle most anything that has four feet and a tail."
That's a fair description of this author's ability, too. Although a strong feminist impulse runs through the story, it's been expertly "gentled." Martha has no sense that she's part of any movement toward gender equality, but she looks like Calamity Jane, and Gloss notes that "in her childhood daydreams she was always a boy." Even now, she "liked it better when the men seemed to forget she was a girl." And so she has left her abusive father "to live a footloose cowboy life and see the places she'd read about in Western romances." She asks only for space in a barn, sleeping on a bed she sewed from a wool blanket and an old fur rug. With a candle to read a few pages of Black Beauty before falling off to sleep, she's got all she needs.
Gloss helps us understand just how radical this young woman's method is at a time when animals were beaten and tortured -- sometimes to death -- in the name of taming them. "Plenty of men thought nothing of being rough with horses," she writes. "A horse had to have his spirit entirely broken was what a lot of men thought, had to be beaten into abject submission." By that violent standard, what Martha does with a bucking chestnut seems like doing nothing at all: singing almost inaudibly for hours, brushing the horse with her hands, walking slowly around a field. But the proof is in her remarkable results, derived from a deep sensitivity to these giant animals. Before long, she's signed on with seven clients in a 15-mile circuit, riding and training horses from one farm to the next each day.
That work plan also provides the novel's structure, which allows Gloss to move through these interconnected families, developing their separate dramas as she watches Martha grow into a cherished member of the community. The ranch families start to care for and depend on her; she carries news and mail from one farm to the next. We gradually sink into their hopes and fears just as Martha does, with startling, intimate glimpses into the loneliness some of these people endure. The fever of patriotism is already warping the landscape and shattering old friendships. Among the novel's most harrowing moments are scenes involving a young father dying of cancer at a time when the only available treatment was stoic endurance. Any one of these quiet but intense chapters is worth the price of the book.
The plot doesn't move so much as accrete, in the way that Kent Haruf and Ivan Doig manage to do in their novels, full of the wisdom of well-lived ordinary lives. Yes, the risk of dullness haunts stories like these, but when it works -- the subtle rhythm of one scene after another, with touches of warmth and humor and compassion -- there's something deeply satisfying about it.
Ever so slowly, Martha notices the attentions of a plainspoken farmhand named Henry, who works for two old spinsters, sisters who are "unconcerned by convention, riding cross-saddle along with their cowboys . . . exactly the sort of women Martha admired." Henry shares Martha's profound empathy with horses, but they're far less articulate with each other. Their muted romance is among the book's chief pleasures, a reminder of a time (was it possible?) when adults expressed their passion in long, silent walks, splitting a piece of pie and, finally, after a few months -- maybe -- holding hands.
That sounds corny, but there isn't a false move in this poignant novel, which demonstrates as much insight into the hearts of men and women as into the hearts of horses. Books like this are easy to overlook, but there's someone on your holiday list who will feel blessed by Gloss's gentle story.
Molly Gloss certainly did a lot of research for this book. I have no doubt that she could actually write a fairly in-depth non-fiction work that deals with life in the western US states at this time. The only problem is that she seems unable to incorporate her exhaustive research into this work of fiction. The facts are never really part of the story, the narrator just tells the reader, as though they were reading a text book when the story of a girl breaking horses got a little dull for them. And for this reader, this story got very dull, very quickly. Nothing in here is engaging, the characters are flat, and reading it was a definite chore.
Another, smaller complaint is her use of punctuation. Gloss writes as though she doesn't understand the use of commas, though, having her read passages of this book as well as speak, it's clear that she is very intentional with her sentence pacing. In any case, it is extremely irritating.
It would not be overstating things to say this book was a joy to read. I adored every minute with it, so much so that I had to dole it out to myself in nibbles because I just didn't want it to end. It's one of those books I love too much to write any kind of review of, so I'll just try to sensibly state what spoke to me about it.
Martha Lessen. A great, big-boned, awkward girl of a character, and I loved her. I loved her quiet confidence with the horses, I loved her insecurity with the bipedal world, I loved her growth through the story, and I loved her authentic concern for the people she did interact with.
The horses. They are like people, but better, and Martha gets that.
The writing. The evocation of the land, the West, the era, the smell of the leather and the horse sweat and the pines. It's like someone took all my favorite things in the world and smashed them into a book together just for me. I want to put all my other books on hold right now and read everything that Molly Gloss has written.
Not the most tightly written book I have ever read. The story meanders a bit off the main track here and there and there are some data dumps. But, that is actually okay with me as I found the glimpses it provides into life in the American West in the early 20th century, and especially during the WW1 period, to be quite interesting. And, I quite fell in love with young Martha Lessen, a teenage girl on the brink of womanhood who isn't very good with people but has a way with horses. Would you like this book? Perhaps. I recommend it. The publisher's intro tells pretty much what to expect.
I accidentally read first, not realizing they were related. It didn't dampen my enthusiasm for either book. Molly Gloss is a lovely writer, detailing times and places long past. She manages to both romanticize the setting and lay bare the lives of those who were settled in the American west of the early twentieth century. She manages this with an omniscient narrative voice that harkens well to the time it is meant to evoke. Her horse details and her historical details are note-perfect. Mario Vargas Llosa wrote that we read to live other lives that we wouldn't get to experience otherwise, and I feel like I have a few more lives in me after reading this book.
THE HEARTS OF HORSES by Molly Gloss (2007) is a novel about community and hope and heartache and real life. This is at least my fifth time through, including once read aloud to my husband and three sets of notes and several maps. I wish the last chapter were labeled "Epilogue" even though it isn't exactly one, but I cried again, and in the same places. This is one of my all-time favorite novels.
Since I teach the novel, I don't feel I can say more. But there is enormous compassion and believable people living in the real world.
I will say it's as more about the hearts of people than it is about the hearts of horses, though loving horses doesn't hurt the reader. Gloss knows horses.
And the sequel is due out this fall. Just sayin. UPDATE: Love the sequel too!
This is a lovely, quiet book that reminds me of the late, great Kent Haruf's gems, and if that isn't sufficient praise, I don't know what is. The time and place are an important part of the story as well as the wonderful cast of characters
I picked this book to read because it’s about horses and a young cowgirl who rides up to a ranch and asks if they need any help breaking colts. The first line hooked me: IN THOSE DAYS, even before the war had swept up all the young men from the ranches, there were girls who came through the country breaking horses.
This book is set in the winter of 1917 just as the US is getting into the War going on over in Europe.
The story unfolds gently much like the heroine Martha breaks her horses. The backdrop of Elwha County is as much a character as any in this tale. And there are many characters you get to know as you read along. It’s a dance that draws you in and then spins you out and back again. The issues going on in the county are timely to what is happening in the world today, though much has changed so much also remains the same.
I can see myself returning to this book again and savouring the story once more. Slipping in between the covers and returning to a world I dreamed of as a child. It felt like returning home to a safe and comfortable place, even while some not so nice things happen in the tale.
I'm still scratching my head over this. Although there are some well written passages about working with horses, there's not much else. If you prefer your novels to have nearly no action and conflicts resolved after three pages, then The Hearts of Horses is the book for you.
A young, tall girl breaks horses in a remote American town during World War 1.
This book was surprisingly good. The cover is blah, but I guess it's designed to appeal to young women who like horses, but the story of a young female horse-breaker who spends her time riding a horse circle and dealing with the people and relationships around her circle was interesting. The ending was a bit sudden though, it all wrapped up very quickly .
Read as part of my 50 horse books to read in 2018 challenge.
In the winter of 1917, nineteen-year-old Martha Lessen saddles her horses and heads for a remote county in eastern Oregon looking for work "gentling" wild horses. Many of the regular hands are off fighting the war, and though the ranchers are sceptical of Martha's quiet, unconventional methods, it is clear that she has a serious knowledge of horses. Over the long, hard winter, the townsfolk witness Martha talking in low, sweet tones to horses believed beyond repair - and getting miraculous, almost immediate results. Ultimately, her gifts will earn her the respect of the men, the friendship of the women, and an indispensable place in the community.
This is a beautiful tale told in a simple manner. The prose is no-nonsense and yet somehow poetic at the same time. It is well worth picking up, even if you have little interest in Westerns or horses.
For me, the particular joy came from individual chapters that seemed to be almost short stories in their own right, telling tales about the ranchers on Martha's 'horse-circle'. Particular tales that touched my heart included Ruth and Tom Kandel (concerning Tom's fight against cancer) and the Thiede's, who are German-born, which becomes an issue as the shadow of World War 1 falls over the county.
Glass writes effectively and without sentiment about the hard lives of the ranchers, many of whom flocked to Oregon in the hopes of making their fortunes. There is heartache, and pathos, and engaging characters on every page.
Glass also offers us a perspective on the world outside the quiet Western county that Martha plies her trade in - Martha finds work because many of the young men have already been drafted into the army. She covers such sensitive topics as racism, terminal illness, and environmental destruction with grace and quiet commentary.
The overwhelming impression of this novel is peace: we drift into the tale with Martha's arrival in the county, spend some time with her as the shy young girl falls into a new life, and then drift away. It is an uncomplicated and ephemeral look at a long-gone time from history.
As the United States enters World War I, the final remnants of the Old West can still be found in eastern Oregon. Nineteen-year-old Martha Lessen rides into Elwha County with a string of horses and a dream of making her way as a horse gentler. In ranch and farm country depleted of young men heading off to war, Martha finds an unusual niche as she begins making her rounds training horses in a circuit. Her unusual garb and ways with horses are a spectacle to behold, but slowly, Martha's soothing ways show results with her horses--and in the families she encounters.[return][return]I must say, I wasn't too sure about this book as I started. The third-person omniscient narrator knows all, referring to events far in the future and beyond the scope of the book, even going so far far as to mention when some folks die; that jolted me out of the story more than once. Martha is the main character, but the story follows a varied cast of very real people. Actually, I would say this is one of the finest books I've read as far as creating genuine characters. Everyone and everything about this book grew on me as I read. As the blurbs at the front said, the title may say it' s about the hearts of horses but it's really about the hearts of humans, too. Martha is slow and awkward in her conversations as the book begins, relating to horses better than people. Her maturity is beautiful to behold.[return][return]There was one chapter in this book that almost drove me to sobs. I've read a lot of books. Some make me tear up. But this? Oh my gosh. I read at the end that the author's husband died and she stopped writing for three years until she started on this book. I think that single chapter channels much of her grief, and it's absolutely devastating.[return][return]If you love horses, if you love studies of humanity, if you're curious about an in-depth look at the American rural home front during World War I... read this book. I hope it touches you as it did me.
Every once in a while, I read a book where I resonate so powerfully with the main character, I lose track of whether or not it’s well written, whether it reaches a satisfactory conclusion, or any other measures of literary merit. For me, The Heart of Horses was just such a book. Set in eastern Oregon during World War I, the story follows Martha, a young woman who trains horses and longs for a simpler, more “old-timey� life. This book so beautifully captures a time, a place, and the attitudes and connections of a people, and it is well written, elegant and eloquent. For me, though, it comes back to the character of Martha, who lives and breathes in my mind now. Her desire to live in rhythm with the seasons, with the animals she loves, to live immersed in and harmonized with nature - I get that. I get that completely. A lovely book, which I highly recommend.
I know it's a cliche to love horses when you're a twelve-year-old girl, but I did. After reading this book, I'm suddenly interested in horseback riding again. It's a beautiful story of independence and the connections that knit together families and communities. The writing is restrained, which fits with the setting nicely. I did skip over some of the description, but this book totally nails that fierce fear of loss that comes right along with love. It may have been more of a constant threat living a hundred years ago in the West, but it's still a universal tension.
But it's also a story about a young woman who refuses to marry and travels around training horses! Totally win-win. Amy gave this book to me for Christmas. Thanks sis!
This book didn't really grab me right away, in spite of being about training horses, but I stuck with it. The circle ride was interesting to learn about and the history of the early 20th century in Oregon. I think Gloss tried to do too many things with the story, horses, intro of mechanization to farming, WWI, cancer, homesteading...at at the end she really fast forwarded Martha's life as if she was tired of telling the story and just wanted to be done. I'll send it on to Jane and her girls. I think they will enjoy it.
Based on the title and cover, I would never have picked up this book if it hadn't been so highly recommended by a trustworthy friend. Don't be put off by the hokey Lonesome Dove cover--this book is completely engrossing.