New on My Shelves

You've got to love used book stores and all the treasures they offer.

And a happy Ides of March, everyone.

Outlaws All by Max Brand (Western novellas)

Outlaws All contains three novellas by author Max Brand. Like many of the novella collections released by Leisure Books, they are completely unrelated, except that they all originally appeared in Western Story Magazine, and two of them in 1921. Luckily, this does not matter so much, as Frederick Faust (under whatever name he wrote) was such a good writer that it is hard to go wrong with his work at any length.

"Alec the Great," a prologue to author Max Brand's novel Sixteen in Nome, was originally published in 1930 as "Two Masters." It is a "chronicle of hatred" between Massey and Calmont. The duo were inseparable friends, though almost total opposites. Then a third made them even more devoted enemies.

A girl? No indeed. It is a canine force that draws these friends apart: the titular puppy, Alexander. Confronted with this addition to their Alaskan gold-finding venture, the pair seem to completely forget their search... and their friendship.

This novella is a good example of why I enjoy Max Brand so much. In addition to his poetic yet accessible style, he writes nontraditional Westerns of other frontiers (called "North-Westerns" by some).

"Riding into Peril" saw print in November 1921 as by John Frederick. The Kid — Kestrell Irving Dangerfield — was a true presence in Jorgenville. His silky blond hair and mild blue eyes drawing the ladies to him, and his way with a gun endearing him to the townspeople due to his ending fights with transients (not starting them).

Justice Bland, even with his affection for Dangerfield, knows the Kid needs to be taken down a notch. But he has no legal recourse until Dangerfield accidentally wounds an innocent bystander — even though the Kid apologized immediately, took the victim right to the doctor, and paid his bill. Bland then tries to teach the Kid a lesson, saying he will make sure Dangerfield serves a full six years in the county jail unless he promises to forever put down his guns.

The title story, "Outlaws All," appeared in September 1921 and features Brand's popular Bull Hunter character. It was, in fact, used as the opening chapters of that character's second eponymous novel. (A total of five novellas comprise the two novels Bull Hunter and Bull Hunter's Romance.)

The main focus, however, is on the half-wolf, half-dog known as The Ghost. The first chapter is a beautifully written and self-contained tale of the Ghost's attack on a bull, and the majority of it is told from the dog's point of view. This is unusual even for Brand, who is even now remembered for taking the Western to uncommon places.

This trio of Western novellas was a treat, and both those who enjoy traditional Westerns and those looking for something a little different will find something for them in Outlaws All.

Friday's Forgotten Story: "A First Blooding" by Max Brand (from The New Frontier edited by Joe R. Lansdale)

For more of Friday's Forgotten Books, visit Pattinase.

In 1987, an up-and-coming author named Joe R. Lansdale edited an anthology of Western short stories called The Best of the West, from which the Western Writers of America took all of that year's short-fiction Spur nominees. (If you're curious, Loren D. Estleman won for "The Bandit.")

A sequel was inevitable, and Lansdale served up The New Frontier two years later (dedicated to his "friend and favorite Western writer," T.V. Olsen). This follow-up had the same intention as its predecessor ("reaching for new horizons, new frontiers"), so it's interesting that it opens with a piece by Max Brand (née Frederick Faust), who died 45 years before its publication.

But "A First Blooding" is not a reprint; it's a 14-page excerpt pulled by Brand biographer William F. Nolan from Brand's unfinished Civil War novel, Wycherley (as yet still unpublished, since only 200 of its planned 600 pages were completed before the author's death). As one who has enjoyed all the Max Brand I've read to date, I leapt right into it.

"A First Blooding" consists of two connected vignettes wherein Yankee Lieutenant Allan Loring kills his first Rebel soldier then hears another executed. These two events are chronicled separately, and Brand seems to take two different approaches with them.

It doesn't feel much like a full story, but it is a very welcome look at the more serious writing Brand was doing before his death. In fact, the scene between Christopher Hodge and Major Acton was so effective the first time through that I went back immediately and read it again to see if I could discern how it was done.

This excerpt (only reprinted once to date, rather inappropriately in the Max Brand collection More Tales of the Wild West) certainly whets the appetite for more of Wycherley, and I, for one, would like to see it printed, however incomplete, as a testament to its author's continued ambition. (A master of the pulps, Faust deeply wanted to be taken seriously.) I'm as big a fan of his cowboy and Indian tales as anyone, but an author of Brand's stature should be appreciated for all facets of his career, and more writing like "A First Blooding" could help improve that.

The Overland Kid by Max Brand (Western novellas)

Many of the Leisure reprints of Max Brand's work are not actually novels but collections of novellas, often not related at all, either in year of publication or pseudonym. Luckily, this does not matter so much, as Frederick Faust (under whatever name he wrote) was such a good writer that it is hard to go wrong with his work at any length. The Overland Kid is one such collection, containing three novellas, with the title story starring his famous series character, Reata.

The title piece, "The Overland Kid," is the last and longest, the sixth of the very popular Reata stories from the 1930s (this one was published in 1934); "George Owen Baxter" was the official author of this series of stories, connected by little other than the main character. Unfortunately, it is also the weakest of the three novellas, mainly because its main character, a man who eschews guns in favor of his trusty lariat, is simply too good to be true.

Reata's method of getting into trouble is by returning stolen gold to the bank it was stolen from. The thief wants it back and tries to get people to kill Reata and get "his" gold back. These include the Overland Kid, a gunfighter considered nigh unbeatable. It's a decent read, though a bit long at 110 pages. But fans of the character will probably enjoy it. The other two novellas are simply better.

First up in The Overland Kid is "The Cabin in the Pines," first published in 1922 under the name "John Frederick." It concerns Babe Rourke and Angus Cairn, two men who are so great in their own circles that learning of each other's reputation causes them to seek out one another for a confrontation: they believe they are enemies just by their very existence.

When they eventually run into each other, they decide to take their feud up to the titular location. There they meet up with Nell, a woman in distress, whereupon they must put aside their differences and work together to save Nell from her pursuers (while each wooing her in his own way).

Brand Faust Frederick The author makes Babe and Angus two easily distinguishable characters linked only by their superiority to other men, and watching them seethe at each other while doing their best to hide this from Nell, who favors different things about each man, is some great entertainment. The ending is quite abrupt, though, and is not quite satisfying.

But the best piece by far in The Overland Kid is the novella in the middle, entitled "Joe White's Brand." This one was also published in 1922, but under the George Owen Baxter byline. Thirty years ago, Joe White was called "Young Stallion on Fire" by the Indians, but that was three decades ago, and time has taken a lot of the fire out of this no-longer-young stallion.

But time has not lessened his reputation, and White is constantly on the run from young up-and-comers looking for a quick reward and a quick reputation from killing the legend. This time, a skinny fellow wearing a red bandanna comes after Joe and eventually wipes out his entire posse. Some are killed, and some leave out of fear, with Joe left to fend for himself. But Joe White is in for a big surprise when he and "red bandanna" finally meet up.

"Joe White's Brand" is a surprisingly fast-moving, suspenseful tale with a great deal of unexpected emotional depth, and Joe White is one of the most fully developed characters I have come across in some time — even in Brand's work, which is full of such characters. This short novel is one of the best things I have read by Max Brand yet, and it soundly defeats the other entries in The Overland Kid.

Trailin'! by Max Brand (unabridged audio book read by Rowdy Delaney)

As a fan of author Max Brand (under that and whatever other pseudonyms Frederick Faust chose to write) for a few years now, I am ever on the lookout for more books of his to read. As a fan of audiobooks for nigh on decades, I am especially fond of hearing Brand's books read to me.

But audiobooks are expensive, and libraries never seem to have the selection I'm looking for. Luckily, I recently discovered that Librivox, an online producer of audios of public-domain texts read by volunteers, has added (at this writing) two of Brand's books to their catalog: Trailin'! and Ronicky Doone.

When I got over my surprise that some of Brand's books had slipped out of copyright, I immediately downloaded the former, the second book he published (The Untamed was the first). Here is a portion of the summary submitted by the audio's reader, Rowdy Delaney:

Trailin’! (1919) tells the story of Anthony Bard [...] who sees his father murdered in the yard of their home. This starts young Anthony on a trail of vengeance that leads him to the far West. Here, Anthony, a tenderfoot with a knack for survival, must track down a legendary outlaw who waits for him — not with a gun, but with a story. Along the way he braves the elements, resists a band of cold-blooded killers, and finds love. A classic western revenge plot ... with a twist.

The classic revenge story became a specialty of Brand's. But, unlike later books like Luck and the superlative Beyond the Outposts, in Trailin'! there is nothing special that sets it apart from the work of writers with more typical aims. This would change as Brand wrote more books, but — apart from a surprise revelation at the end — it remains a little disappointing to read a Brand Western that is so ... conventional.

But reading a weak Max Brand novel is still better than reading something by a lesser writer. Librivox volunteer Rowdy Delaney does a good job. She does not give her characters distinctive voices, but the story is not hard to follow. Her somewhat raspy voice certainly adds to the atmosphere. I enjoyed her reading enough that I have already downloaded Ronicky Doone (I've already read one of its sequels, Ronicky Doone's Treasure).

(Trailin'! was originally published in the legendary All-Story Weekly [and actually under the Max Brand byline, unlike numerous others that were only reprinted with it]. The story was filmed by director Irving Cummings in 1931 as A Holy Terror. That movie — which is also known as Wyoming Wonder — stars George O'Brien of Sunrise and a young Humphrey Bogart.)

Western Quote of the Day (from Trailin'! by Max Brand)

Bard was turning the pages slowly. The title, whose meaning dawned slowly on his astonished mind as a sunset comes in winter over a grey landscape, was The Critique of Pure Reason. He turned the book over and over in his hands. It was well thumbed.

He asked, controlling his voice: "Are you fond of Kant?"

"Eh?" queried the other.

"Fond of this book?"

"Yep, that's one of my favorites. But I ain't much on any books."

"However," said Bard, "the story of this is interesting."

"It is. There's some great stuff in it," mumbled Lawlor, trying to squint at the title, which he had quite overlooked during the daze in which he first picked it up.

Bard laid the book aside and out of sight.

"And I like the characters, don't you? Some very close work done with them."

"Yep, there's a lot of narrow escapes."

"Exactly. I'm glad that we agree about books."

"So'm I. Feller can kill a lot of time chinning about books."

— from Trailin'! by Max Brand

Luck by Max Brand (a.k.a. Riders of the Silences by John Frederick)

Pierre le Rouge was raised by a Jesuit missionary from a young age. But in addition to producing someone who can speak the purest Latin in the region, Father Jean Paul Victor also trained Pierre to be a superior physical specimen who can handle himself in rough terrain of the Northwest.

When Pierre, who thought he was an orphan, finds out he has a father — and that this father, Martin Ryder, is dying from a gunshot from Bob McGurk — he sets out for revenge. Father Victor lends him a cross to help him on his way, not knowing that

The newest edition of Luck (originally published in Argosy in 1919 under the byline John Frederick), is the first book version since that original publication to contain the entire manuscript as the author intended.

If you've read another Brand book called Riders of the Silences, you've read basically the same story — but not quite. A great deal of material was excised from Luck for the other book's 1920 publication with the Frederick byline, and even more was removed (by Brand biographer William F. Nolan) for the 1988 revision with the Brand byline, which is the one currently available most readily.

As a proofreader, I have a certain amount of faith in the editorial process, but when an editor with an agenda begins removing the heart of a story, he or she has gone too far. I'm glad the author's original text — hardly seen for almost 90 years — is finally available unexpurgated.

Ten More Great Reads from 2007

This is my second Best Books I Read in 2007 list. (The first one is here.) This one consists of those books that were not first published in 2007. These should not in any way be taken as lesser selections — in fact the best book I read all year is on this list — I just wanted to keep them separate.

So, here they are, alphabetically by author, along with their year of publication. Any links go to the more detailed reviews I wrote when I first read them. Others you can research yourself (and then tell your friends that you discovered them).

1. Max Brand, Beyond the Outposts (1925) — The best book I read all year is a great story and a great audiobook. Kristoffer Tabori brings this Western about a different kind of father-son relationship to life!
   
2. Gil Brewer, The Vengeful Virgin (1958) — This book is the true pulp crime experience: it feels like it was written in a flash of inspiration, and Brewer's characters are boldly sexy, violently cruel, lustfully greedy, and utterly remorseless.
   
3. Clifford Irving, Fake! (1969) — Part biography, part crime story, part world travelogue, and probably part fiction, this biography of art forger Elmyr de Hory (by the man behind The Hoax) remains wholly engaging and eminently readable.
   
4. Drew Karpyshyn, Darth Bane: Path of Destruction (2006) — Yes, it's a Star Wars novel, but anyone who wants to know everything about the growth and development of a Sith Lord needs to read this book, which is set 1,000 years before the movies.
   
5. Stanislaw Lem, One Human Minute (1986) — The title piece is alone worth the cover price (but don't skip the other two), as Lem takes us on a tour of what happens all over the world every minute (it's set in the future yet feels timely). It doesn't sound like much, but it's surprisingly entertaining and thought-provoking.
   
6. Ira Levin, Son of Rosemary (1997) — A terrific thriller and a fitting end to a career filled with high points. Anyone who dismissed it because of the ending, thinking that it negated the legacy of Rosemary's Baby, simply needs to go back and read it again. You missed some important details.
   
7. Charles Portis, True Grit (1968) — Another great Western novel/audiobook, and one of the few to elicit genuine affection from me toward the characters. Anyone who thinks he can skip it because he's seen the movie is fooling himself — the film is a weak imitation. I enjoyed the library copy so much, I bought my own.
   
8. Damon Runyon, Guys and Dolls (1934) — Runyon is little-known today, but that should change. He is still probably the best short-story writer ever, and with a style that simply cannot be imitated (not least of which because of its difficulty in doing correctly). Crime fans especially should flock to his work, because it shows criminals from a different time on their off time. This collection was pure pleasure, and as a bonus it made me a regular listener to the old-time radio program Damon Runyon Theater.
   
9. Duane Swierczynski, The Blonde (2006) — I found this to be an almost perfect book. It's short and fast, has great characters, and adds pieces of sci-fi and horror to its old-time crime noir plot. I think it would appeal to practically anybody reading this weblog.
   
10. F. Paul Wilson, Harbingers (2006) — The tenth Repairman Jack novel is also one of the best, as Jack is even further swept along on a path of "coincidences" out of his control (something he is not used to and cannot stand) toward his predestined fate. What a ride Wilson has taken us on.

(And I only received one of these as a review copy. The rest I got from the library, received as gifts, or — gasp! — paid actual money for.)

Pulp Western Quote of the Day (from Black Jack by Max Brand)

"I'll tell you, McGuire," he said gently. "Your great mistake is in talking too much. You've had a good deal of success, my friend. So much that your head is turned. You're quite confident that no one will invade your special territory; and ... you pity the sheriffs around you. Now listen to me. You've branded me as a criminal in advance. And I'm not going to disappoint you.... I'm going to make the sheriffs pity you, McGuire. I'm going to make your life a small bit of hell."

— from Black Jack by Max Brand

Beyond the Outposts by Max Brand (audiobook read by Kristoffer Tabori)

The best book I read in 2007 was originally published in 1925. And, as a bonus, it was actually read for me. The plot of Beyond the Outposts (originally published under the byline Peter Henry Morland) is unlike any I have encountered before: young Lew Dorset runs away from his Uncle Abner (looking after him since Lew's father went to prison) in search of his father, Will Dorset.

Along the way, he makes a great friend in Chuck Morris (and that's Morris, not Norris, in case you weren't really paying attention yet), fights Indians, later befriending them, and seeks a mythical horse. There's a lot more that happens, but I don't want to ruin this epic experience for you. This is one of author Max Brand's most ambitious plots, and he handles it deftly.

There's enough story in Beyond the Outposts for three more novels, and it contains two Brand signatures: the superiority of the Indian way of life, and the aforementioned horse search. Also, the complexity of the father-son relationship (even in the absence of the father) is dealt with especially well, giving Lew a depth that is not found in many characters.

As for the audiobook of Beyond the Outposts, let me begin by saying that it is a special occasion when an actor you were previously unaware of makes an impression — and to do so twice is extraordinary — but that is just what happened to me with an actor with the distinctive name of Kristoffer Tabori.

The first time I saw Tabori, he was truly inhabiting the usually thankless role of Henry Baskerville to Jeremy Brett's Sherlock Holmes in The Hound of the Baskervilles. (In fact, I defy you to name anyone you who has ever played that role memorably.) His portrayal, I wrote at the time, "offers up a sympathetic rendition of the lord of the manor that actually makes the viewer care about his safety (and his heart)."

Fast-forward a year. I came across this audio of Beyond the Outposts (Brand is one of my favorite authors, and one whose audiobooks, for some reason, I have a good deal of trouble tracking down through the library) — read by Kristoffer Tabori. Well, I knew the name rang a bell and looked up the Holmes review to reread it. Interesting, I thought, a Briton reading a Western, but I decided to give it a go anyway. (It turns out Tabori is actually an American, and the son of director Don Siegel and actress Viveca Lindfors, but I was ignorant of this at the time. Thanks, Wikipedia!)

The voice that came from my car's speakers was so different from that of Henry Baskerville that I had to do some Googling to confirm that it was in fact the same person. Tabori's reading reeks of the Old West. His personification of narrator Lew Dorset surpassed even my expectations for a Max Brand character. And his voice never falters as he gives each character a voice distinct enough to be different, yet similar enough to remind us they are all from the same area. Tabori makes the people in Beyond the Outposts live in a way they simply cannot on paper. And anyone who can actually improve on a Brand story gets high marks in my book.

"Internes Can't Take Money" by Max Brand (from The Collected Stories of Max Brand)

Say the name Max Brand and people generally think Western. But this prolific writer from the pulp era dabbled in many genres, from spy stories to fantasy and even poetry (the work he saw as his true calling).

Brand even created the character of Dr. Jimmy Kildare, featured in over a dozen movies and two television series. The Collected Stories of Max Brand showcases mainly his non-Western work to great effect, including the first Kildare tale, "Internes Can't Take Money" (published in Cosmopolitan of all places in 1936).

Crime fans will likely enjoy this first foray into the medical drama, since it is contains a touch of the noir. Internist Jimmy Kildare gets involved in a Damon Runyon–esque (only without as much humor) cadre of criminal types in a situation that eventually folds in on itself in a manner more than somewhat reminiscent of O. Henry but still very satisfying.

Throughout, as Kildare is patching up various gunshot wounds and the like, he stays true to his calling and never accepts a dime for his work — until a friend of his desperately needs money. Then he is more than willing to accept the cash.

Though "Internes Can't Take Money" is not a great story, it is highly entertaining and, more importantly, inspired a film the next year (starring Joel McCrea) that eventually gave rise to the series (movie, radio, and TV) that would make the now-surprising idea of a good doctor who is also ethical into a pop-culture icon. The character also made its author a very rich man. And it all started with this story.