As a builder, this book is a must for my how-to shelf.
John D.
On arrival at the ranch, north of San Antonio in Texas,the Widow, Clara, gives him no time to explain his presence, but launches into a job offer of taking her and the women who have found refuge with her on a cattle drive to Abilene. It is the only way she can save the ranch from the rapacious demands of neighbor Medder.
An encounter with Medder fires up Jeff's quixotic nature and he agrees to boss the cattle drive. He, thirteen women and one lad set off to herd about 2,500 steers across Texas and on to Kansas on the Chisholm Trail. All of the women, with the exception of one are themselves widows and have dramas and traumas in their pasts. Their stories are gently teased out in the narrative, whilst they strive to equip themselves not only to become effective cowboys, but also to defend against Indians, marauding thieves, rapists and the wildlife. The indigenous species being rattlesnakes, scorpions, lethal water snakes and extremes of weather. The perils of the journey draw the women closer together and Jeff realises he will never see a woman again as being 'weak'. He also falls deeply in love.
Jones has a deft way of creating his characters with economy and a gift for description of scenery. There are no extraneous words, each is chosen with care and polished into place leading the reader into humour, pathos and sympathy with the ambitions of the cattle drive. It is without doubt, one of the best-structured novels I have read in some time. In addition, the research is impeccable.
A few years ago this reviewer was in Newton, on the Chisholm Trail. With a friend I stood in the middle of a railway crossing and she said, "Now, if you start walking that way, the nearest place to get some of your English tea is a thousand miles away." I looked at the flat plains stretching to infinity and wondered. Later, we were at a strip mall when dusk fell and the car park was full. No one was shopping, we were all looking at the sky, the long sky, and one of the most awe inspiring and beautiful sunsets I have ever seen. It filled the whole of the horizon and more, the vastness, the sense of space was overwhelming. What for me was so striking, was most must have been accustomed to this splendour, yet it still stopped them in their tracks. That is the Chisholm Trail.
The cattle drive was over a thousand miles, moving from one state to others. Here in UK if we travel the same distance, we could be in Gilbralter or Central Russia. True in the nineteenth century as today, with humanity, towns and cities in between. Between South Texas and Abilene, with the then tiny Fort Worth and minute settlements in between, there were barely a few hundred people. Self-reliance and neighbourliness was essential for mutual survival.
This Jones captures along with the basic decency of ordinary folk in contrast to the casual villainy and depravity flourishing where there is no law, in an endless wilderness.
Thoroughly recommended, with a guarantee you will not be disappointed. I hope we'll be seeing more of Jefferson Pickett, Lolita, Hank Pickett, Clara and Auntie. DIONE DOVER, BOOK REVIEWER...
Slowing down to wrap the reader in the reality of these issues, never so bluntly posed, Fuller brings to life Jackson Payne, a composite rendering of a saxophonist, and full-featured, full-blooded man in the world. We find in Payne a Faustian character at once difficult and sublime, no matter where or when we find him. He is a hero in Korea, later deep in heroin addiction, in prison, performing at the top of the jazz world, betraying some, loyal to others, complex, conflicted, modern, an enigma to himself. A Bronze Star, "that should have been Silver," seems a small reward for the wounds that Payne takes from Korea. If jazz is the symbol of Payne's existence, so is Korea. The hard side of Payne -- Korea, junk, prison, his murder or assisted suicide, always stand in balance to his achievement in art -- some great records, some good relationships, some great performances, a cult around him as a supremely gifted experimentalist.
Jazz fans will puzzle more over who served as the model for Payne than the manner of his death, which Fuller builds to full-blown mystery status by the final pages. Certainly Payne is drawn from several jazzmen's biographies, and to have made him anything other would have denied Fuller the opportunity to explore generally the jazz life, especially that of the 1945-75 era of which he writes. It is hard to escape the belief that nonetheless the author had someone in mind, just as love songs are said to be about a particular person. Clues are scattered throughout the text, for example, Payne has a low point where he opens for some sixties rock groups - music "so bad that it shouldn't even be heard through a wall." Sounds like Archie Shepp, or Pharoah Sanders, just as earlier passages suggest Dexter Gordon, Coleman Hawkins, or Sonny Rollins. But there are just too many other clues --- an R & B background, mastery of every playable scale, rhythm, syncopation, extended solos (some lovely, some excruciating) the reach to the sublime spiritual level, and a wife a lot like Alice -- to make it that hard to hazard a guess. If Jackson Payne isn't mostly John Coltrane, his music has got to be the closest suspect. For jazz followers this is satisfying to a great degree. Fuller allows Payne to live another 10 years beyond the life of Coltrane, and projects what direction his music might have taken. In Payne he hints, toward the sweeter, certain of its roots, self-referential but not arcane, with a profound human touch. We have always wondered where Coltrane would have taken jazz, in Jackson Payne, Fuller gives us a sophisticated, informed guess. There is a lot of jazz criticism laced in the book. Fuller dismisses Miles' late experimentation with rap beats, which provides another clue that jazz development suffered the end of its most interesting evolutionary line with Coltrane's death.
But this is all conjecture. The recreation of Payne's life is all conjecture. After Joyce, and Gide, and William S. Burroughs, time-splicing, multiple points of view, and the unreliable narrator are no longer pioneering literary novelties. In the post-modern narrative these techniques are no longer employed for effect, but for thematic purpose. Fuller uses all of these approaches to build his largest theme, a theory of knowledge, within several sub-texts, not the least interesting of which is the nature of jazz, its origins, and its "meaning." Jazz is, and is not, a metaphor in this book. The time-splicing, syncopation, lyricism, painful and blissful reality of the tale are difficult to mistake as an extended literary solo that literally builds on the basis of Payne's life in the first 200 pages, to the free form explosion of the final third of the book.
If "The Best of Jackson Payne" sounds like a compilation CD, so in fact it is, --- a distillation of a complicated, pained, sad, but ultimately triumphant life. Fuller reaches across race, age, class, gender, and truthfulness in the narratives of the informants he quotes in the book. The remarks of his alter ego, Quinlan, a musicologist who is stiving to re-create the life and death of his hero Payne, are italicized in the latter part of the novel. Un-italicized replies and commentary comes from informants who for the most part have been introduced earlier in the text. Some informants are not introduced, but their identities are intuited. The reader begins to understand the reference and the shifting points of view. Now you are playing jazz with the master.
One ought to forgive the author his day job. He writes convincingly of shooting galleries, jazz charts and clubs, and has an ear for the profane end of the world where pain and suffering turn to art. We forgave Charles Ives and Raymond Chandler their careers in insurance. Fuller runs the risk of being mistaken for a Pulitzer-winning editor and publisher of a major newspaper and not the very great novelist he has become.
If you know someone who watched Ken Burns' "Jazz" and now wants to know what jazz is REALLY about, or if you want a companion to Ashley Khan's "Kind of Blue," if you don't have a CD player but want to hear jazz, are interested in philosophy as literature, or literature as literature, this is the place to start.
List price: $30.75 (that's 30% off!)
that displays loyalty and love between a grandfather and a five-year-old granddaughter in a tense drama that reveals the best of us and the worst of us! (From a reader in LA,CA)