In which I discuss some of the skinny volumes, which have nestled into my bookbag.
(Meanwhile longer works, like Kathleen Winsor’s Forever Amber and Greg Iles’ The Bone Tree, were left at home.)
Patricia and Fredrick McKissack’s Best Shot in the West tells the story of Nat Love, who was born into slavery in 1854 and became a renowned African-American cowboy.
The volume is arranged in a series of short tales, as though Nat Love has responded to a request to write his memoirs. In fact, his autobiography was published in 1907, The Life and Aventures of Nat Love, Better Known in the Cattle Country as ‘Deadwood Dick’. But it wasn’t illustrated by Randy Duburke!
The illustrations are in pale, watery tones and predominantly black-white-grey at first, as the story begins in Denver, Colorado in 1902, where Nat is working as a railway porter.
But when he begins to consciously remember the experiences of his earlier days, dating to childhood on a plantation in Davidson County, Tennessee, his memories are often boldy and brashly tinted.
There are only a few panels on each page, affording plenty of room for background figures and shading to establish scenes and atmosphere, and frequently entire pages contain only a single illustration.
There is some dialogue but the information is largely shared in textboxes of narrative which summarize not only his personal experiences but also general information relevant to the life of a man employed as a cattle driver and roper.
“Shortly after I joined Gallinger’s outfit, we got an order to move 2,500 head of three-year-old-steers to Dodge City. It was the largest drive I’d ever been a part of. We left with 40 men and two months of provisions.”
A contemporary of Bat Masterson and Billy the Kid, there is a lot of talk of adventure and outlaw life, and most of the scenes explored in detail here are rooted in tension or conflict, which makes for engaging reading.
If John Wayne is the only cowboy you know, the McKissacks’ graphic book is an excellent reminder that life in the Old West was colour-filled indeed.
(And, if you’re looking to really shake up your ideas of Cowboys’N’Indians, Thomas King’s novel Green Grass, Running Water is a fantastic – and oh-so funny – place to start!)
Thani Al-Suwaidi’s The Diesel is a perfect candidate for several categories in this year’s BookRiot Reading Challenge.
It’s set in the Middle East, it features a transgender character, and it’s under 100 pages in length. (See challenge here.)
In an interview with al-Jazeera in 2004 (quoted in the introduction by W.M. Hutchins, who also translated the work from the Arabic), the author acknowledged that his novel had “shocked some readers with its frank portrayal of the behavior of homosexuals in the Arabian Gulf region but said that the novel’s theme is the effect of the petroleum age of a small community torn between two cultures”.
He speaks of depicting “a world heading for a collision, a world that many in the Gulf region have worked to conceal”.
He’s referring, Hutchins explains, not only to sexual “desire and a rebellion against dichotomous, patriarchal gender assignments, but also to popular culture, superstitions and magic”.
There are scenes in the novel which unfold in the mosque, but there are many others which take place outside, which have a strange disorienting sense of unfolding elsewhere, in an untethered place, which feels familiar but is removed from the everyday. (The book might also count in BookRiot’s challenge for one which considers religion.)
Majid Nur al-Din states that the structure is “deliberately disjointed to present the contemporary Arab experience in a portrait that reflects a self that is split between an image of the past and an image of the consumer-oriented present”.
When he becomes The Diesel, when he makes people dance and seemingly escape the confines of their less satisfying lives, simultaneously cloying and draining, he appears to contain and offer an irresistible alternative to joyless living.
Dr. Fatima Ahmad Khalifa explains that Thani Al-Suwaidi “personifies place and breathes his spirit into it so that place, time, history, and the character constitute a single whole that is agitated and alarmed by what happens”.
For me, this novella reads like poetry. At the sentence-level, there are some beautiful passages which often require rereading, and as W.M. Hutchins knows the text intimately, I suspect this is a reflection of the original narrative.
One has the sense of being removed from what is known, dangled from some aerial structure by the toes, one’s fingertips never quite brushing the surface of what’s unfolding on the page below. It’s not a comfortable feeling; rather, a curious one.
What are you slipping into your bookbag this week?
I considered doing Book Riot’s challenge, but never got around to it :/ Perhaps I’ll attempt again next year.
Still ,Thani Al-Suwaidi’s The Diesel sounds perfect for me! I love short books and intersectional texts have a special place in my heart and TBR. Thank you for the recommendation.
IIRC, they announced this year’s in December, so if you watch for it at the end of this year, you can have the fun of making a reading list for it. (And, then, if you’re like me, not choosing any of those books after all, when the reading actually happens!)
If you give The Diesel a try, I bet you’ll find a few more books (in the introduction) to add to your TBR as well: enjoy!
This weekend we’re going to Thomas Raddall Provincial Park, so naturally I’ll be taking one of his books along. I’m thinking his short stories – my mind feels a bit addled lately with all this coming and going. I’m also going to take The Hidden Keys – it just arrived in the mail, and I’m very excited about it. I want to read it right away, but am a little worried about my addled brain. We’ll see how it goes… 🙂
You probably just need to ‘go’ and then there will be room for books once more! I’ve yet to try Raddall, but you’re going to make it happen, I can tell. As for The Hidden Keys, I am really looking forward to that as well (how lucky you’ve got a copy already!) and am currently halfway through his Pastoral. Have a lovely weekend, bookishly and otherwise!
I like the way Alexis writes, and would like to go back and read his earlier books sometime.
And, as for Raddall, I feel sure I’ll eventually get you to read one of his books. 🙂
Does that mean you finished The Hidden Keys already? *wriggles in seat*
Not yet – there wasn’t much time for reading this weekend. But I got far enough to know it’s going to be good. 🙂
The Diesel sounds very interesting. Poets usually write such lovely prose. I need to keep this in mind.
Which immediately brings Michael Ondaatje, Anne Simpson, Jackie Kay, Lee Maracle and Aison Pick to mind. You’re quite right: something to think about!
I still have a copy of Green Grass, Running Water bought on a long ago holiday in the States, probably California or somewhere in the South West. Thanks for reminding me of it. I’ll see if I can bet my hands on Diesel – it sounds intriguing.
Intriguing is a good word for it; it’s one that I wish I’d read in company, so if you can find a willing co-reader it would be nice to take on the task of deciphering it together. It also bolsters my theory that the skinniest books quite often take longer to read than the chunkiest ones. (And, as if to prove the point, Green Grass Running Water is a quick read at around 500 pages, but still one which offers a lot of food for thought!)
I can well imagine how The Diesel will have caused a stir. It’s not surprising that you thought it read like poetry – apparently Thani Al-Suwaidi is a poet and this is his first novel….
Even after rereading some sentences three or four times, I really felt as though there was nothing to grasp, no plot to cling to. In the end, I was left more with a feeling than anything. So although normally I avoid introductions and commentary because I am spoiler-phobic, I was very pleased to have had this essay as a backdrop, so that I could impose some kind of shape on the reading after all.
You always have such interesting sounding books in your book and on your blog! I’m currently reading a wonderful British Library Crime Classic – “The Cheltenham Square Murder” by John Bude.
Thanks, Karen. It seems like the perfect season to be reading crime classics. But, then, I do think of reading them in the dead of winter as well. Perhaps it’s the idea of extremes, be it heat or cold, that brings crime to mind for me!