Grazing the Open Pages
It usually happens when I'm ostensibly doing something else, like getting ready for work, or cleaning up around the Dan Cave. From somewhere on one of my bookshelves, a particular volume will catch my attention and I'll drop the task at hand, open the book - usually to a random page - and begin reading. I don't read the whole book, just a few pages or so, before I put the book back on the shelf. It's a snack, a word snack. I much on some prose, then move on with my hunger temporarily satisfied.
Naturally there are particular authors I prefer to snack on, authors whose prose I enjoy so much that a brief grazing through their work satisfies. The names of some of these writers will not surprise any regular reader of this space - O'Brian, Tolkien, Dunnett. Others I've never written about before, like Evan S. Connell, author of Son of the Morning Star.
Son of the Morning Star is about the battle of the Little Bighorn, commonly known as Custer's Last Stand, but Connell allows himself to be pulled where the historical currents draw him, with the result that the book becomes more than just words about some battle. All the narrative paths do lead back to Custer and his last hours, but the meandering journey the reader takes to arrive there, not least because of Connell's prose. Here's a sample, an example of why Connell is on the list of my 'browsable' writers. This is Connell's description of the last moments of Satank, a Kiowa chief:
As you can see, Connell has a dry wit, one that makes his meandering narrative that much easier to lose yourself in.
Naturally there are particular authors I prefer to snack on, authors whose prose I enjoy so much that a brief grazing through their work satisfies. The names of some of these writers will not surprise any regular reader of this space - O'Brian, Tolkien, Dunnett. Others I've never written about before, like Evan S. Connell, author of Son of the Morning Star.
Son of the Morning Star is about the battle of the Little Bighorn, commonly known as Custer's Last Stand, but Connell allows himself to be pulled where the historical currents draw him, with the result that the book becomes more than just words about some battle. All the narrative paths do lead back to Custer and his last hours, but the meandering journey the reader takes to arrive there, not least because of Connell's prose. Here's a sample, an example of why Connell is on the list of my 'browsable' writers. This is Connell's description of the last moments of Satank, a Kiowa chief:
On June 8, 1871, handcuffed and guarded by cavalry because of his part in a Kiowa-Comance raid during which several teamsters were killed, Satank was en route to prison when he decided enough was enough. A Caddo rode by the government wagon train and Satank asked him to deliver a message:"Tell my people I am dead. I died the first day out of Fort Sill. My bones will be lying beside the road. I wish my people to gather them up and take them home." Down the road a mile or two he shouted:"I will not go beyond that tree!" He got loose - it is said he tore the flesh from his hands while pulling them through the manacles. He whipped out a butcher knife concealed in his blanket, stabbed one guard, and was just getting into action when the other guards shot him down. for about an hour he refused to die. He was at least seventy years old, so it not hard to guess how difficult he must have been some decades earlier.
As you can see, Connell has a dry wit, one that makes his meandering narrative that much easier to lose yourself in.
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