I just finished reading Riders of the Purple Sage, by Zane Grey. To say that it was a "hoot" would probably be all the description just about anyone needs, because no one is ever going to read it.
But I've been curious about Grey. Zane Grey wrote westerns between 1910 and 1930, and during that time was one of the most popular and richest authors in America. If you don't read westerns, then you probably haven't heard of him. But he's considered one of the two founders of the genre.
So when I stumbled upon Sage -- considered his most important work -- at the library, I checked it out, read it, and spent a lot of time trying not to snigger.
Some of the book's more amusing touches:
- Chapter 6 begins with, perhaps for the first time in history, "Meantime, at the ranch, ..."
- Poor attempts at writing dialects, such as "I been nicked, but I'm some wet an' the hoss's has been throwin' lather, so all this ain't blood."
- Of course, it's better that the bad English is answered with dialogue like: "Oh, you fierce-blooded, savage youth! Can't I teach you forbearance, mercy?"
- A woman is able to pass for a man simply by wearing a Lone Ranger mask.
- The story has an odd streak of anti-Mormonism. They're treated like some kind of exotic tribe out of New Guinea.
Still, after I put the book down I had to admit it was a pretty good story -- fun characters, good villains, not completely far-fetched.
Everything has to be translated a bit through the filter of its time, and Grey wrote sexist melodrama that belied a simple pride in being able to read and write when so many people of the time could not.
I often think that people who look back at our time will be laughing at us -- the most spoiled and pampered generation ever -- and the gritty grit-like grittiness that permeates most of our creative work.
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