From Hopalong to Hud: Thoughts on Western Fiction by C. L. Sonnichsen

Abstract

Reviews 259 begin; and begin with hard work, and patience, prepared for all the dis­ appointments that were Martin Eden’s before he succeeded — which were mine before I succeeded. . . . ” London often drew heavily upon his own experiences for his work, and there are excerpts from Martin Eden and John Barleycorn, two auto­ biographical works in which he wrote candidly and passionately about the frustrations, heartbreaks, and rewards of writing for a livelihood. If you haven’t read them, Walker’s selections from the books are enough to make you hasten a trip to the local library. The collection also contains a broad and perceptive foreword by How­ ard Lachtman, who has three books in the making on London. Dr. Lachtman shows the unfamiliar side of the Jack London persona; he strips away much of the myth surrounding the man and offers a candid look at a writer who has all too often been dismissed or overlooked by critics of American literature. Interest in London has increased markedly since the publication of a volume of letters in 1965, and Dale Walker’s jewel of an anthology is a welcome addition to a steady stream of serious works on London that have appeared since that time. The reading public is finally beginning to realize that London was much more than a skillful writer of yams about howling wolf-dogs in the frozen wilderness of the Klondike and nautical adventures on the open seas. SAL NOTO, Cupertino, California From Hopalong to Hud: Thoughts on Western Fiction. By C. L. Sonnichsen . (College Station and London: Texas A & M University Press, 1978. 201 pages, $9.95.) From Hopalong to Hud: Thoughts on Western Fiction is a gathering of eleven essays by C. L. Sonnichsen. Almost all of the pieces have been published previously, one as long ago as 1943; most were written in the late 1960s and in the 1970s (two appeared originally in WAL). Sonnich­ sen, who was the first president of the Western Literature Association and currently is editor of the Journal of Arizona History, easily ranks as one of our most distinguished interpreters of Western culture. Not surprisingly, then, his collected “thoughts” on the Western novel turn out to be well worth pondering. The breadth of Sonnichsen’s reading in Western fiction is astonishing. Have you ever read George Gilman’s Valley of Blood or Robert J. Seid- 260 Western American Literature man’s One Smart Indian or John Reese’s Sure Shot Shapiro? Sonnichsen has. These and hundreds of other well-known and little-known books are marshalled as supporting evidence for the author’s thesis — a thesis that sews together the otherwise disparate essay into a handsomely stitched gar­ ment. Briefly, Sonnichsen’s contention is that Western novels “are mirrors which faithfully reflect our assumptions and prejudices.” The “social his­ torian,” he continues, reads these works “not for what they tell him about the subject matter, but for what they tell him about the reader.” Sonnich­ sen’s approach is provocative and, more importantly, productive. He clearly demonstrates, for instance, how Western fiction works as a barometer of evolving popular attitudes toward Indians and Mexican-Americans; he also shows how it mirrors the American reading audience’s insatiable appe­ tite for ever more exotic forms of violence and ever larger doses of explicit sex. The preponderance of the books Sonnichsen employs as evidence scarcely registers on the literary Richter scale. These works are mostly, as the author says, “horse operas, shoot-em-ups, hayburners . . . oaters.” Such formula fiction, however, is especially useful in abstracting popular beliefs since it is aimed at readers interested in entertainment — that is, readers who prefer not to have their settled convictions disturbed. If Sonnichsen is a witty and reliable guide through the dimly lit cellar of the subliterary, he is, unfortunately, not so helpful in making us (even within the strict limitations imposed by his thesis) understand the significance of more “serious” Western novelists. His perspective on the likes of Larry McMurtry, Edward Abbey, and William Eastlake seems to be hampered by too narrow a focus on one topic — sex. The author’s remarks on these writers — and on some lesser lights, whom he calls...