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Shame and blood and degradation I wasn't terribly
thrilled on the publication of the long-list for this year's Booker
Prize, not because it simply contained the usual suspects (although a
few of them were in fact there with only Julian Barnes making the cut
to the short-list) but because the novels I hadn't heard of previously
didn't really get me excited on the whole. Only a couple I hadn't
already registered caused my ears to prick and foremost amongst those
was Patrick deWitt's Western novel about two sibling killers, Eli and
Charlie Sisters. Now, I hate westerns as a general rule but two
genuinely great books I've read, Cormac
McCarthy's masterpiece Blood Meridian
and Ron Hansen's The Assassination
of Jesse James by The Coward Robert Ford, have been set in
that period and the prospect of something rather more in the mould of a
Coen brothers movie tickled my fancy. It may not do the same to you,
the Coen's are a bit divisive it seems, so if you're not keen on that
short description then it's pretty safe to say this isn't the, now
short listed, title for you, and whilst I don't expect to see it
scooping the prize there was enough to make it a curiously enjoyable
tale of murderous mayhem. I took up my organ to compromise myself. As a young man, when my temper was proving problematic, my mother instructed me to do this as a means of achieving calm, and I have found it a useful practice ever since. Once accomplished I headed back to the river, feeling empty and cold inside but no longer angry. I cannot understand the motivation of a bully, is what it is; this is the one thing that makes me unreasonable.The dialogue between the two brothers and other characters they meet is what provides the novel with its humour and easy entertainment, even whilst moments of extreme violence provide brutal reminders of the times they live in. Eli's slow journey towards civility is charming; the advent of tooth-cleaning powder, his meeting with a woman in a whorehouse, his desire to save enough money to make a new life; each of these markers show some kind of progress but we always sense that it could be jeopardised at any moment and that his brother may hold control over his course, as indeed he always has. As they near San Francisco deWitt develops the craziness nicely. The man they have been sent to kill is not what we might have expected, nor the reason for his execution and the plot goes nicely askew in line with the prevailing atmosphere of madness. 'There is a feeling here, which if it gets you, will envenom your very center. It is a madness of possibilities.' observes one character and the particular fever of the gold rush is a potent combination of greed, desperation and escalating violence. Men desiring a feeling of fortune; the unlucky masses hoping to skin or borrow the luck of others, or the luck of a destination. A seductive notion, and one I thought to be wary of. To me luck was something you either earned or invented through strength of character.But it also 'isn't enough to be lucky' and the grim conclusion that we have always sensed was our destination isn't long in coming. There is a lot to be said for a read that is just entertaining, and despite the grimness and violence that is what this book feels like after finishing it. But, as I said at the top, in a quest to find the best book of the year the judges might have to find themselves at the other end of the Sisters Brothers loaded pistols for deWitt's novel to prevail. William Rycroft To read more of William Rycroft's book reviews, check out his blog at Just William's Luck.
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