Lonesome Dove - Larry McMurtry

⭐ 10/10

One of the podcasts I listen to mentions this book all the time, and even did a whole podcast around it. It took Joe reading it and buying me a copy for me to actually dive into this behemoth. Of course it was a masterpiece - I expected no less and that's what I got. One of those books that I will have sensory memories of, will always be able to recall where I was when I read certain scenes, are how certain lines made me feel.  Novels like this are hard to come by, so when you find one you need to cherish it.

I read a lot of fantasy, and modern fantasy often strives to be gritty. Deal with real issues in an unflinching way. Well, what's more gritty than the story that takes place in an actual time and place, the rough land of American at the end of the 1800s. This book is all-consuming, putting you in a time and place that feels authentic, but in my mind completely unromantic. Life is rough, death is around every turn, and no one ever seems comfortable. Part of me wishes I could have experienced such a life in the name of exploration, doing things in a new land that no one else had done before. But I wouldn't last a day on this cattle drive, and if I did it would be through sheer luck. Every death in this book feels random and heartbreaking. Nature and this open frontier are beautiful and inspire grand visions of strong men making new paths to build a new nation, but its also trying to kill everyone.

The setting is engrossing, but the characters are even more-so.  Its a large cast where each person's identity is clear, and while I don't like them all they have all burrowed their way into my mind. We get early backstory on Lorena and I instantly empathized with her. Gus stays pretty consistent, a big personality with flashes of heroism. You have to warm up to Call like everyone else, since he is intentionally stand-offish. When Part One ended I was saddened that we were leaving our main cast and meeting some new folks, but they became some of my favourites. July goes through some unimaginable things, and many of his chapters are some of the most vivid in my memory, going through a deep depression and wandering aimlessly.

On that note, its hard not to tie this book to the other one I was trudging through at the same time, Wind and Truth. Sanderson is drowning in the deep end of his own creation, forcing himself to account for every ailment and disability and mental illness and identity. Every character is representation in the worst way - for the sake of representation and not for the enhancement of any narrative or story. Characters say exactly what they are thinking in the therapy-speech of today, and it is so exhausting when the plot can't move forward because of long-winded self-reflections. Lonesome Dove tackles the spectrum of human emotion without using the buzzwords that make you want to throw the book out. The pictures it paints of depression, loss, hope, joy, desire, ambition, betrayal, are all so vivid. It's easy to say "show don't tell", a lesson I think Brandon has completely abandoned, but there is more than showing here. It's embedding, tattooing feelings and and emotions into my brain, changing the way I look at the world. Isn't that what literature, or great movies and TV, or all art, is for?

I'll stay away from more comparisons, because this book stands alone. There were a couple deaths that bowled me over, made me put down the book and take a break to think about life. My favourite scene involves a hanging, a scene that in traditional Westerns would have been an exciting shoot out, but in this book its over in a second and no one feels good about it. Justice is a heavy burden for these former rangers, and its hard to glorify. The women of this novel are also unconventional, especially Clara, who feels the same emotions as the men but can't ride across the country to find an escape.

This book completely nailed the ending too, with no one ending the book satisfied or feeling accomplished. There was always an endpoint, but even when they are there you can tell they don't know what to do with themselves. As Brandon's characters love to remind us, journey before destination. Where that sentiment is hollow in his books, it is achingly true here, where these men don't know what to do with themselves, unable to find happiness in their destination when there was purpose and camaraderie in their wandering.

I could list 100 scenes I loved, but ultimately its the characters that stick out, fully realized even if not relatable. They are distinct, and every detour you go on with them has merit and meaning. There are moments of action, and they are great, but its the somber character moments that will be remembered. I want to dip my toe into the sequels, but right now this is a precious diamond I don't want marred.

I can't recommend this book highly enough, and I fully expect I will be rereading this in a decade.