“I was sitting outside the Commodore’s mansion, waiting for my brother Charlie to come out with news of the job.”
IT is hard for a western to get literary recognition, although if it works for west coast gumshoes then perhaps there is another undiscovered genre to inspire Hollywood. This is a second Booker nomination from a Canadian, plus another mention for Granta and another short lister that was overlooked but may stand the test of time better than its rivals.
It is a brutal, comic horse trail of a book, cocked like the pistols that feature through it, a well told yarn of brotherhood, gunslinging, hunt and pursuit that drives the narrative.
The writing has a period accent to it that rings true. As do the occasional stark acts of cruelty. A great ballad of a book that depicts a time and era on the borders. From the first sentence we know exactly where we are…as the brothers ride, their relationship balances on a Bowie knife-edge.
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