by Leif EngerMy rating: 5 of 5 stars
If I were ever going to write a book, this is exactly the kind of book I would want to write. This book was a pleasure to read. The first person narrator is 11 year old Rueben Land, and he is a gem. His witty, well-timed humor had me laughing out loud in pure delight in so many unexpected places.
Little sister Swede is a character I wish I knew in real life. The way she uses her love of westerns, history, and poetic ballad to shape her thoughts, her actions, and her relationships with others fits comfortably and easily into a story that has a modern-day western feel to it. The other characters are equally well done. Really the people, and their relationships to each other, make this story for me.
But the plot is interesting too, and flows smoothly (true to title) like a river; not too fast or too slow, taking some unexpected turns along the way. I love the human-ness of it, but also the heroic ballad feel of it. The author did a great job having those two things flow naturally together.
"There's nothing like good strong meter to make a poem mind it's manners."
"Then each man felt the air go still; each felt a stab of dread;
Each heard the sound of danger in a dancing mustang's tread.
They watched the horse come down the street; they watched the rider halt;
They watched him size them man by man, as if he knew each fault.
His clothes and hat were black as ink, his dancing mustang pale'
His eyes were blue and hard enough to make the sun turn tail.
He sad, "You want to hang this man, I'll give you each the same.
I don't much like a mob," he said, "and Sundown is my name."
“Sometimes heroism is nothing more than patience, curiosity, and a refusal to panic.”
“Fair is whatever God wants to do.”
“Real miracles bother people, like strange sudden pains unknown in medical literature. It's true: They rebut every rule all we good citizens take comfort in. Lazarus obeying orders and climbing up out of the grave - now there's a miracle, and you can bet it upset a lot of folks who were standing around at the time. When a person dies, the earth is generally unwilling to cough him back up. A miracle contradicts the will of the earth.”
“I remember it as October days are always remembered, cloudless, maple-flavored, the air gold and so clean it quivers.”
“You can embark on new and steeper versions of your old sins, you know, and cry tears while doing it that are genuine as any.”
“Once traveling, it's remarkable how quickly faith erodes. It starts to look like something else--ignorance, for example. Same thing happened to the Israelites. Sure it's weak, but sometimes you'd rather just have a map.”
“I breathe deeply, and certainty enters into me like light, like a piece of science, and curious music seems to hum inside my fingers.
Is there a single person on whom I can press belief?
No sir.
All I can do is say, Here’s how it went. Here’s what I saw.
I’ve been there and am going back.
Make of it what you will.”
“So thoughtlessly we sling on our destinies.”
“Before reaching Grassy Butte, though, Dad spied a farmhouse with two pumps in the drive and a red-and-white sign out front saying DALE'S OIL COMPANY. Another sign said CLOSED, but a light was on in the house and Dad pulled in, saying, "I believe we might prevail on Dale. What do you think?"
"Prevail on Dale," I repeated to Swede.
"To make a sale," she added.
"And if we fail, we'll whale on Dale--"
"Till he needs braille!"
"Will you guys desist?" Dad asked.”
“Hope is like yeast, you know, rising under warmth.”
“Yes, yes sir—routine is worry’s sly assassin."
“Is it hubris to believe we all live epics?”
“Sleep that day was a warm pool in which I dove and stayed, sporadically lifting my head to sense the world.”
“Good advice is a wise man’s friend, of course; but sometimes it just flies on past, and all you can do is wave.”
