I liked Nat’s voice. I don’t think I laughed out loud, but I did like the humor and thought it added to the book. Nat was a very likable guy, I enjoyed spending time with him, even when life was dealing him lemons.
I do think that Mr. Loving was supposed to wise old man more than white savior. So he didn’t really bother me, even though his existence seemed a bit unlikely. I think the West was full of misfits though. I don’t know about East Texas specifically in that time period.
As a senior project in high school I attempted to write a historical novel. I got hung up quickly on all the stuff I didn’t know. All those little details! Too easy to get something wrong.
I know exactly what you mean! Whenever I have thought about writing any fiction, I’ve quailed at the thought of committing the sin of improbability. Fictitious names for people and places, for example – all names have their histories and associations; none are neutral. It’s ridiculous how easily I can get tied up in knots.
I will admit that some historical fiction has so much grace and authority that I don’t worry about possible inaccuracies. One example is Wolf Hall. Others are William Golding’s To the Ends of the Earth trilogy and Amitav Ghosh’s Ibis Trilogy.
Re: Wolf Hall - But if A Man for all Seasons is fresh in your mind. You spend a lot of time wondering which version of the past is more accurate! However Wolf Hall annoyed me for other reasons…
I like historical fiction best where the real people generally make minor appearances - so thing like the Master and Commander series of naval historical fiction for example.
A friend picked up this book from the library and when she handed it to me she commented that this book must be for my husband. Surely not something I’d choose.
I made it through the “improbable” but heartwarming "mr loving section, enjoying the humorous tone, and disturbed by other aspects.
Soon after that chapter I gave up on the book, when the “western cowboy” theme prevailed.
Now that I’m reading comments about liberties with fact Lansdale took, I’m not sorry I bailed on book, again.
@mathmom, I adored the film of A Man for All Seasons when I saw it years ago, but I don’t really remember anymore how Thomas Cromwell was depicted in it. The contradiction you referred to does get mentioned a lot!
Wolf Hall beguiled me so much that I was willing to accept Mantel’s interpretation of the character.
Funny, I tried to get my theatre son to watch the film of A Man for All Seasons once, but he loathed it after watching only a tiny bit of it, and turned it off. I think he thought it was treacly or something.
The characters weren’t so much cowboys as soldiers and gunslingers and desperadoes and spittoon-emptiers and bouncers and rat killers, etc. Not much to my taste, though I thought the quality of the writing redeemed the book to a large extent, and Nat was a rather lovable character. Actual cowboys had somewhat tedious, isolated lives except for their binges at the end of the trail.
I fully admit I haven’t read Nat Love’s autobiography. If I had, perhaps I’d be slightly less enamored with “Paradise Sky,” but probably not. I’m somewhat of a sucker for “good writing,” which this book has, IMO. There were a few anachronisms, but not of a quantity or type that really threw me off.
I honestly have no idea if I would have read this if not for book club; there are so many books out there and so little time … One thing I love about this book club is there’s such a variety in reading types here, suggesting so many different books.
Yes, Ruggert’s character reminded me of Jakob in “The Fireman” – and also the Jason character in the “Friday the 13th” movies; the one in a hockey mask. They just never quit/die.
For sure, I would NOT have picked up this book on my own! So glad it was the CC Book Club choice, and I was prompted to read something I normally would not.
I was thrilled and touched at the beginning when Loving was kind to Nat and gave him the delicious-sounding beans. But after that, it all got to be a bit much.
For one thing, Nat seemed to learn to read quite well in just a few months. It takes longer than that.
Nat stayed “with Mr. Loving about four years and had pretty much lost [his] worry about being found” (p. 48). Besides reading and farming, he also learned to shoot and ride over those years.
Overall I give one big thumb up to this book because it offered a total distraction to current events–my hoped for prerequisite for this month’s selection! I thought parts of the Nat Love character were authentically charming, witty, and caring. I particularly enjoyed the too short Loving tutelage.
A smaller, other thumb down, however, I give to the revenge motives of Ruggert and eventually Nat. I didn’t find the life long hunt Ruggert undertook–based on a black man’s viewing of a white woman’s derrier–believable. I also didn’t care for the blowing up of faces, heads, and other body parts.
The barrels containing the preserved wife and family dog were fascinating to think about, lol. That did make sense to me though. Bu, were people really pickled like this?
What similarities do you see between the only other western we have read, *Lonesome Dove*, and *Paradise Sky*?
It seems like a good time to post this question because some of the points raised above can be found in both books. Now, I am not equating the two–I enjoyed Paradise Sky, but Lonesome Dove is a classic at a whole other level. (In another month, I’ll probably be like @VeryHappy in my attempt to recall details of Paradise Sky, but Gus and Call are my old friends. )
That said, these are a few areas in which they reminded me of one another:
1). Even though, as @NJTheatreMOM pointed out, there is very little genuine cowboy activity in Paradise Sky, both books contain a great deal of travel by horseback across the vast plains. We get to know what the terrain looks like, and what it feels like to be hungry or hot or cold on endless days of travel.
2). In both books, the protagonists are continually running across eccentric characters, who have small roles in the story, but provide a certain quirky “flavor.” Odd characters do odd things, like pickling their dead relatives. In answer to @PlantMom’s question, “were people really pickled like this?”, I would say the answer is a resounding “no,” but I loved that detail of Luther’s story.
3). Much of the humor lies in the extremely dry wit of conversation (often in bemused, polite understatement).
4). Both books have pivotal scenes depicting violence against women and violence at the hands of Indians. In both, there is even a late encounter with a ragtag group of Indians who are no longer menacing, but starving and essentially homeless.
I don’t think Larry McMurtry was a particular inspiration for Joe Lansdale, I just think some of the above aspects are part of the western genre.
I haven’t read many westerns, but I love Western movies. I recently talked to friends about what people kept the cremains of people in before they got taken care of. One friends husband wanted to be in his favorite cracker tin.
I do think he gave us a nice sense of place. I liked that he reminded us that there were also pockets of Chinese in the west as well. The starving Indians whose buffaloes have been slaughtered by white hunters made me sad.
@NJTheatreMOM, you know I can’t resist a challenge. I am out to de-curmudgeon you as regards composting. It’s a dirty job–literally–but someone’s gotta do it.
Composting in America dates back to George Washington:
Washington wrote that a knowing farmer, "Midas like, can convert everything he touches into manure, as the first transmutation towards gold.”
Loved “Lonesome Dove”
As I read the chapter when Mr Loving took in Nat I questioned Mr Loving’s intention thinking there was a dark motive, maybe sexual abuse?
I don’t remember having any qualms about Larry McMurtry.
I don’t remember Lonesome Dove
as violent.
( by the way great questions assembled for this discussion- you should send them to lansdale or his publisher )
Lonesome Dove certainly had its share of violence (think of Lorena’s kidnapping, for starters), but very little of the vengeful shoot 'em up stuff. From an (old) article on McMurtry in The Daily Beast:
I think Lansdale also wove a “wry salty humor” into some of the violent portions of his tale, with a fair amount of success.
SJCM, your mind went to a very dark place with Mr. Loving! I never sensed anything but goodness in him. But maybe as readers we do become tainted–especially right after books like The Underground Railroad and Underground Airlines, in which almost every white man has an evil, ulterior motive.
)