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A review by clayjs
Riders of the Purple Sage by Zane Grey
4.0
As one of the great westerns of all time, as the herald of the birth of a new genre, as a literary masterpiece cleverly disguised as popcorn fiction, this book promised for 3/5 of its duration to disappoint violently. The characters have become cliches, the dialogue was jarring, and there is (almost) literally an exclamation point after the main character's name every time somebody speaks it. Lassiter! What an ass.
That said, once my disbelief and disgust were safely suspended and I start to get into the story a bit, I also started to find it remarkably charming. I can easily see why fans of westerns would love it--it's really lovable, and they don't have to look down their noses to see that, like I did. The characters (except maybe Lassiter!) have some depth and really feel human sometimes. At least when they're not speaking. The real gold here is the story, though. The tension builds steadily, and Grey slings a Chekhov's gun with the best of them, and by the time you get to Venters's vengeful race across the sage, it's legitimately difficult to put down the book. It's hard to care about the Lassiter! and Jane subplot (which many might argue is actually the main plot, except that it's about a third as exciting, and the characters are about a sixteenth as likable), but Venters is a legit badass, and though he doesn't mill a stampede riding a blind horse like Lassiter! does, he feels actual human emotion and makes mistakes and shit, which is significantly more worth my snobbish, snobbish time.
Please understand, if it hasn't come across yet, that I'm a book snob. I generally only read the driest, wormeatenest old volumes of British highbrowery I can find. And though I almost poked my eye out with a dull stick (in order to maximize its distracting power) about six times in the first 100 pages of this book, I legitimately enjoyed the last 100.
Please also understand that Riders of the Purple Sage slings a lot of religious intolerance around in a way that might not be palatable to all people. If you happen to be Mormon, or if you are sensitive to such things, it'll likely leave a pretty bad taste in your mouth. As a reader of old British highbrowery, religious intolerance is pretty par for the course in my reading catalogue, and I hardly noticed it. It was almost novel to read a novel hating on a different group for a change.
That said, once my disbelief and disgust were safely suspended and I start to get into the story a bit, I also started to find it remarkably charming. I can easily see why fans of westerns would love it--it's really lovable, and they don't have to look down their noses to see that, like I did. The characters (except maybe Lassiter!) have some depth and really feel human sometimes. At least when they're not speaking. The real gold here is the story, though. The tension builds steadily, and Grey slings a Chekhov's gun with the best of them, and by the time you get to Venters's vengeful race across the sage, it's legitimately difficult to put down the book. It's hard to care about the Lassiter! and Jane subplot (which many might argue is actually the main plot, except that it's about a third as exciting, and the characters are about a sixteenth as likable), but Venters is a legit badass, and though he doesn't mill a stampede riding a blind horse like Lassiter! does, he feels actual human emotion and makes mistakes and shit, which is significantly more worth my snobbish, snobbish time.
Please understand, if it hasn't come across yet, that I'm a book snob. I generally only read the driest, wormeatenest old volumes of British highbrowery I can find. And though I almost poked my eye out with a dull stick (in order to maximize its distracting power) about six times in the first 100 pages of this book, I legitimately enjoyed the last 100.
Please also understand that Riders of the Purple Sage slings a lot of religious intolerance around in a way that might not be palatable to all people. If you happen to be Mormon, or if you are sensitive to such things, it'll likely leave a pretty bad taste in your mouth. As a reader of old British highbrowery, religious intolerance is pretty par for the course in my reading catalogue, and I hardly noticed it. It was almost novel to read a novel hating on a different group for a change.