Tag Archives: Old West


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Of all the Hollywood duos I ever saw onscreen, I think I enjoyed watching John Wayne and Maureen O’Hara most.

John Wayne I already knew from several Westerns. He reminded me strongly of my father, though I would not exchange the two for anything in the world. Maureen O’Hara’s characters were everything I wanted to be: independent, fierce, and strong-willed – something you would know if you watched her in The Quiet Man or today’s subject, McClintock!

McClintock! is Shakespeare’s The Taming of the Shrew transplanted to the American West at the turn of the century. John Wayne plays George Washington McClintock, a rancher who came to Arizona when there was nothing but some old Spanish settlements and a lot of unfriendly Indians. O’Hara plays his firebrand of a wife who accompanied him on this journey but is in a snit with him. She is in such a snit, in fact, that she moved out of the ranch two years ago and has not been back – until now.

McClintock has a thing for drinking and saloons, but he loves his wife like no other man has ever loved his wife. When she tells him – again – that she wants a divorce, an uncommon practice in that century, he says no. He may be mad at her but he still loves her.

Matters are further complicated for McClintock by the arrival of settlers promised rich land on a nearby mesa. The problem is that the mesa is nothing more than a barren piece of rock jutting out of the ground, and he has to tell the settlers that “even the government should know that you can’t farm land 6,000 feet above sea level!” It is not his fault these settlers came, nor is it his fault that they were, essentially, swindled. But because he owns most of the territory and the town of McClintock, he takes the heat for both these things all the same.

One of the young men who came west with the wagon train, Devlin Warren (played by Patrick Wayne) asks for a job from McClintock and is hired on as a ranch hand. McClintock then ends up hiring Dev’s mother, Mrs. Warren (Yvonne de Carlo) as the ranch’s cook. This upsets his Chinese cook, whom he keeps around the house despite hiring Mrs. Warren because he suspects she will not be staying long. Besides, he considers his Chinese chef a friend and a member of the family.

But this decision makes Mrs. McClintock even more upset. She figures Mrs. Warren is just another harlot G. W. met and hired before he heard she was coming back. This is not the case at all, but how are you supposed to tell a jealous woman that and have her believe you? Neither Mrs. Warren nor McClintock can convince her until Mrs. Warren, under the influence of spirits, tells Mrs. McClintock that the sheriff has asked her to marry him. She intends to accept his proposal and will therefore have to stop working as a cook for the McClintock ranch.

And if all this mess was not enough, McClintock’s daughter Becky has come back west from school. She keeps company with a young gentleman from the town not long after, a young fellow with ‘social standing’ and the son of an old enemy of McClintock’s. On top of this, the young man also happens to be a sap, and it is clear McClintock does not really like him (who could!). He merely tolerates him to make his daughter happy.

Then Dev, who has taken a shine to Becky, puts the kibosh on the courting and – well, that would be telling.

McClintock! is not your typical Western. It has plenty of action, but most of it is humorous. There are many serious parts in the story, to be sure, but the laughs are never far away as you watch this wonderful, wonderful comedy. I love every minute of McClintock! Whenever I have the chance to watch it, I smile my face sore. If you have not seen this film, readers, then you had better go find it and watch it now. It is a classic in every sense of the word!

And please remember that it is NOT a “cowboy movie.” John Wayne plays a rancher in McClintock!, not a cowboy. In this film, his days of punching cows are long over. The West is closing, the Indians are being forced onto reservations, the buffalo are dwindling, and the days of the gun are numbered. But if McClintock can, he will go out with a bang. Or with a record. 😉

See ya later, Alligator!

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Book Review: Flint by Louis L’Amour

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Welcome back to the Wild, Wild West, readers! Here is yet another review for a Louis L’Amour novel that you may peruse at your pleasure. I am making up for lost time on this, am I not?

Well, it cannot be helped. I have reviewed lots of other books, and left one of my favorite authors on the shelf. That should not have happened. So now this blogger intends to see to it that a great man’s work is exposed to a good bit of daylight. This time, the focus is another western of Mr. L’Amour’s: Flint.

Jim Flint, under the alias of James T. Kettleman, is headed back west. Having come east to disappear, he is now headed west to do the same. See, Jim Flint is a big, powerful man. He has been strong since boyhood. Who his parents were he has no idea, for he was found and raised by a wandering gunman who only went by the name Flint.

Well, Flint met the end which was the doom of many a gun hand. Jim did not take this too well, and he had a lot to say about it – mostly with his own six-shooter. That is why he disappeared east, taking the name Kettleman when he did, a play on “cattleman.”

Now he is going back. Diagnosed with cancer, Jim Flint is headed back west to die.

His wife, whom he married simply because he wanted company, does not want to wait for the cancer to run its course. While he was back east, Flint made a fortune in the stock market and on many other business ventures. He is one of the wealthiest men in the nation, getting wealthier all the time. So, with her father’s help, Mrs. Kettleman planned to kill Jim.

But she does not know her husband very well, since Flint is a man of sparse speech and very reticent about his past. This meant that she and her father had no idea Jim was good with a gun – and better than the man they sent to kill him at a gambler’s table on a ferry.

They are also initially unaware of the fact that Jim knows they want his money. And he has no intention that they should see a penny more than he wishes to leave them (i.e., he will leave his wife enough to live on, but not in the way she wants to live on it). With his lawyer’s help, he sets up all his assets to be liquidated as he sees fit, making sure his wife and father-in-law will not get his fortune.

Now, on the train west, Flint spots a man who is definitely trouble. This man is Buckdun, a hired killer. Jim does not know his name yet, but he knows his type; dangerous as you can find. Jim Flint also spots a very pretty young woman on the train whose name he overhears: Nancy Kerrigan.

Now Nancy Kerrigan, owner of the Kaybar Ranch, has her own problems. Settlers are streaming west, and a former political animal – now styling himself a businessman – has come to the locale of her ranch from back east to make his fortune in the unimaginable wealth of the west. Port Baldwin is trying to become a power in the area. This concerns Nancy because her ranch, the Kaybar, is a land claim. She has no title, no deed, for it. Her father purchased some of the ranch land from the Indians, but Indians do not give out titles or deeds. What is more, one Indian can always claim that those Indians who sold the land had no right to sell it.

This puts her ranch and livelihood in serious jeopardy. Her father and her uncle built the ranch up over the years, held it against Indian attacks (which she lived through), and she does not want to lose it. The Kaybar is her home, and she intends to hold it no matter what.

The biggest, most immediate problem with this is that Port Baldwin has started to brew a range war. Range wars are ugly, violent affairs that can end very badly for those involved. And when Nancy sends one of her hands out to file a claim on the Kaybar so she can later buy the rights back from him, along with several others, the man is ambushed and left for dead.

Enter Jim Flint, who has no intention of getting caught up in a range war but who also does not care if he lives through it or dies in it, since he is going to die anyway. And a man who has nothing to lose is a one big bag of terrifying. With no fear of his own death, Flint cannot be forced to simply back down. If you want him out of your way, you will have to kill him. And he is a hard man to kill.

Flint is one of L’Amour’s more complex stories. Jim Flint does not fit the type of the western hero with which we are all familiar; even among L’Amour’s own stock of protagonists, he stands out. He is different, harsher, because he is going to die…

Or is he?

From here, you will have to break your own trail, readers. Have fun reading Flint, and may you find many more L’Amour stories to interest you as time goes by!

May there be a road!

The Mithril Guardian

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Book Review: Hondo by Louis L’Amour

Hondo Lane.

What a name that is. Some never heard it. Some heard it too late. Those who heard it received it second hand, or they were not on the wrong end of his gun. If they were there, and somehow survived, it was because he saw fit to spare them.

A tall, lean, wide-shouldered man with a hard-boned face was Hondo Lane. There was no softness in him, yet also no cruelty. At heart, a kind man, with gentleness in him that was hidden and well-protected. To show kindness and compassion at the wrong moment in his time could lead to a quick end.

And Hondo Lane is not interested in dying soon.

But at the beginning of his story, that seems hard to avoid. A couple of young Apaches shot his horse out from under him, thinking to make a quick kill. They end up dead alongside the horse – but a man without a horse in the desert is a man who will not live long.

Then Hondo comes upon a little ranch house in a nearby valley. In the house are Angie Lowe and her son, Johnny. They are situated smack dab in Apache territory, and currently the Apaches are not happy. They are on the war trail.

This is why Hondo lost his horse and was almost killed. The treaty made with the Apaches has been broken, and now they want the white man to pay. So the U.S. Army has moved in to take care of the trouble. Hondo is carrying dispatches for the Army, since he is a scout for them, and he needs to get them to the nearest fort as soon as possible. To do that, he needs a horse.

Angie Lowe has two horses to choose from, and she allows Hondo to pick out and borrow one. But she dismisses Hondo’s warnings about the Indians. Angie tells him that the Apaches have always gotten along well with them, and that her husband will be back soon.

Hondo, however, has read the spoor around her land. Not only are the Apaches running around the place on their way to war, the hoof prints from her husband’s horse are old. He has been gone a long time, long enough for the ranch he has not been taking care of to fall into further disrepair.

To pay for his meal, bed, and horse, Hondo sharpens the family’s axe and chops wood for them. He also re-shoes the plough horses, whose hooves have grown over the old shoes. He tells Angie again that she would be safer coming with him out of Indian Territory than staying in it, even if the land is hers through inheritance from her father. He also tells her that she is an “almighty poor liar,” and he knows her husband is not present or coming back any time soon.

Angie is most upset by this. Her husband, who was raised with her on the ranch, is actually a bum. The guy works little on maintaining the ranch and goes on “trips” to the fort and nearby towns. There he gambles, drinks, and pays attention to the saloon girls. Meanwhile, Angie is left to mind the ranch and raise Johnny. She cannot handle the ranch alone, but she loves it and it is hers. So she is determined to take care of it to the best of her ability.

But most of what upsets her is that she likes Hondo. She likes him very, very much. Of course, being married to another man, for better or worse, that kind of puts a damper on things for her and Hondo.

The story spins its way out from here, readers, and this is as much of the trail as I am going to guide you on. From here on, you will have to saddle, bridle, and rope this book yourselves. If you do all that, then you may do to ride the river with. If you have already crossed this and other trails of Louis L’Amour’s, then I salute you and am happy to ride in your company.

Hondo was Louis L’Amour’s first full-length publication. Before Hondo was published, Mr. L’Amour had only produced short stories for various magazines. Hondo was his breakout novel. After it hit the market, he had no need to look back. He was off to the races, and he kept going till the end of his days.

John Wayne was in a film based on Hondo. The film goes by the same name as the book. It is a good film – a great one, I think. And before some of you say that it is just a “cowboy movie,” let me step in here and make something clear. A “cowboy” is someone who “punches cows.” He manages another man’s herd for him, whether it is cattle or horses. He helps with the branding, driving, and protecting of the herd from outside attackers.

Hondo is not a cowboy. He is a scout for the Army. So when John Wayne played Hondo Lane in the film Hondo, he played a U.S. Army scout. There is plenty of daylight between the two positions, as much as there is between a military sniper and a beat cop. Do not ever go mixing the two up – especially around me.

You get that story straight, and you’ll do to ride the river with.

See ya around, readers!

The Mithril Guardian


Spotlight: Strong Women – A Return to the Question

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We had met as equals, rarely a good thing in such matters, for the woman who wishes to be the equal of a man usually turns out to be less than a man and less than a woman.  A woman is herself, which is something altogether different than a man. – (Emphasis added.)


This quote is from The Walking Drum, written by Louis L’Amour.  While Mr. L’Amour is best known for his Western fiction, the truth is that he wrote a great many other stories as well.  He served in World War II and “yondered” much of his early life.  He was many things and he saw many things.  The Walking Drum is a novel he wrote – and it is set in the twelfth century.

Why start a post off with this quote?  Because it is a timely admonition.  A woman ends up being less than herself when she is trying to be something she is not.  And yet we have no end of “experts” proclaiming that women are equal to men.  It makes the observant wonder just what they are selling.

The research I did for the post “Offended, Insulted, and Not Shutting Up” is what got this article rolling.  And before anyone asks, no, I have not shifted my position on Marvel’s decision to make Jane Foster the latest version of “Thor.”  It is a stupid decision which they will soon learn is not helping them.

My research into the opinions of others regarding “Thorette” allowed me to find comments and articles that expressed what I have thought for some years.  They were not all as delicate in their statements as I would have been but, to borrow a line from Mr. Spock and the Vulcans, that is part of the wonder of living in a world of “Infinite Diversity in Infinite Combinations.”  With this research tumbling around in my head, I began to think not only about “Thorette” but about what the intelligentsia says we are to praise in the female characters being created these days.

This brings us back to the question I asked in the previous “Strong Women” post.  Just what makes a strong woman?  Looking at “Thorette,” it seems safe to say that many writers and artists think a woman is only strong when she has an above-normal muscle structure.  This sort of physique also happens to look good in some form of armor-plated swimsuit or underwear, which conveniently guarantees a male audience of some size.  (These are probably not the guys a girl should accept the offer of a date from, by the way.)

Being a curious observer, I have a question to ask the writers and artists at Marvel and elsewhere.  Do they know how many female fans Carol Danvers has?  Do they know how many women are in Thundra and “Thorette’s” fan clubs?  Has anyone taken a poll of female Marvel fans to ask them what they think of these characters – not to mention what they think of all the other heroines on Marvel’s roster?

If Marvel were to poll its female fans, I believe that they may get answers like mine.  For instance:  I have never liked or admired Carol Danvers.  And I cannot seriously contemplate Thundra, a character from an alternate dimension where women are the dominant sex, without stifling the reflexive urge to throw up.  She has to be one of the few characters Marvel has created which I find utterly repulsive.  I know and prefer her only as a convenient villainess.

My opinion of Jane Foster/“Thorette” is well documented.  Jane Foster has been warped and nearly destroyed as Marvel’s writers, editors, managers, et al attempt to gain fashion and political points from her “new look.”  But what they fail to comprehend – or perhaps to admit – is that she looks horrible!

Now, does everyone feel this way about these characters?  Hardly.  But in my humble view, these female characters do not appeal enough to be worth any kind of money.  Judging by “Thorette’s” anemic reception and the letters Marvel received about Carol Danvers years ago, I do not think I am that alone in disliking them.

What kind of female characters, then, impress me?  Allow me to pull out another quote from Mr. L’Amour to illustrate my answer:


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A man you can figure on; a woman you can’t.  They’re likely either to faint, or grab for a gun, regardless of consequences. – from Chancy

 The Cherokee Trail

These are the kind of women who fascinate me, and whom I wish to emulate.  Remember, fainting can easily be faked.  How is a man to know a real faint from a false one without putting himself in danger?  Louis L’Amour’s female characters are like this.  They are iron-willed women who have bones of steel.  They can handle a pistol, a rifle, or they can use some other object as a weapon.

You will not find any of L’Amour’s female characters holding up stages, taming broncos, or riding the range as cowgirls, it is true.  But you will find women in his stories that are leading cattle drives, managing ranches, and defending their homes from Indians or bandits.  And plenty of his women are quite happy to back up their men in a fight by holding a shotgun on the group of ruffians looking to make trouble.  The women in L’Amour’s novels of seafaring and in his football stories are no different.  Admittedly they do not carry guns in the vicinity of a football game, but they are just as determined and forceful as the frontier women who were their ancestors, in spirit if not in fact.

What does all of this have to do with Marvel?  The comic book company already has a Rolodex of formidable heroines.  To name a few, there is the Wasp, the Black Widow, Mockingbird, Wanda Maximoff, Silverclaw, Jean Grey, Rogue, Storm, the Invisible Woman….  The post “Offended, Insulted, and Not Shutting Up” has a more comprehensive list, if you would like to learn of more heroines in Marvel’s Universe(s).

The fact is these women can all hold their own in a fight.  Yes, these characters have an extra asset of some kind during combat.  Mockingbird and Black Widow have extensive hand-to-hand combat training, while Storm, Rogue, and Jean Grey have mutant powers.  Many other female characters within the Marvel brand also have superpowers.  But a pistol or a rifle is an asset, too, and no frontier woman who wanted to survive would shun either weapon because it was not natural to her.  It was often the only thing standing between her and harm – or death.  You respect that kind of tool; you do not toss it aside.

So do any of these Marvelous assets cheapen who these women are as characters?  No, they do not.  Nor do they enhance their characters; they are simply stand-ins for the rifles, pistols, or the various weapons women have used throughout the centuries.  Sometimes they are even extensions of the abilities women have always had:  intelligence, mental agility, and outright strength of will.

As a result one never knows just what any of these heroines are going to do in a given crisis.  One can never know just how they are going to play the game, how they are going to react to the villain’s bait.  They may play on his arrogance or they may pretend to be simpering, frightened damsels.  Whatever they do it is bound to be interesting and exciting, for the simple reason that it has the potential to be totally unexpected.

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Carol Danvers or Thundra, in comparison, can always be counted on to hammer at a problem until it goes away.  Why is this so?  It is so because they are women who are less than women.  The writers have decided to make them something they are not.  As a result, they have personalities that are as stilted as a puppet’s limbs, making them very uninteresting.

The other heroines do not have this built-in handicap.  They are women who are not afraid of being women.  This means that they do not think like the men around them.  This gives them their edge in a battle.  It is not their superpowers, skills, or weapons.  It is who they are as people, as women.

When these heroines are safely captured, they are often deemed by the villains as no longer a threat because they cannot use their powers, kung fu, or technology.  With Danvers or Thundra this is usually a true assessment.  They are not used to thinking outside the box – or thinking much at all, from what I have seen.  In a pitched battle they simply react.  This makes them relatively easy for their opponents to overcome or dispatch.

Many of Marvel’s other heroines, however, never stop thinking.  They are always watching, listening, assessing, and working out a plan of some sort.  If the only possible plan they can make is to wait for back up, then that is what they have to do.  Their male counterparts have experienced similar crises, though you will not hear these mentioned by very many critics.  If they could survive the wait and not be diminished by it, then why can’t their female counterparts?

From Marvel to DC, from Star Trek to Andre Norton’s Witch World series, from Star Wars to Howl’s Moving Castle and its sequels, there is no end of proof that women can be as bold and brave as the men in their lives – and they can be as bold without compromising their womanhood.

This is what modern writers, filmmakers, and artists no longer consider.  In fact they are actively running away from this truth because it has become passé to portray a woman as she actually is.  Instead a fictional heroine must be displayed as something other than a woman.  You go to the theaters to see the latest films and most of the women in these movies have no problem cutting off men’s heads or disemboweling them.  Not only do they have no physical problem doing it, which many of them should, but they also have no moral qualms about doing it.

Image result for wonder woman filmThe Wonder Woman movie out next year promises to be a case in point.  I was once a big fan of Wonder Woman.  This was not because of her strength or because of her Lasso of Truth.  No, I liked her because of these things and the fact that she was still a woman.  Throughout her adventures with the JLA, Diana learned to respect and like her male teammates, to appreciate their abilities and welcome them as friends.  Later series even had her dating Batman!

But recent rewrites by DC Comics have turned Wonder Woman into a bloodthirsty man-hater.  It is true that in the coming film she is going to fall in love with Steve Trevor (portrayed by Chris Pine).  While she is doing that, though, she will also be happily carving men to pieces and telling women that being secretaries is the equivalent of slavery.  You would think she came from an alternate universe and not an island inhabited by Greek warrior women.

All of this detracts from the real power of women.  By portraying a woman as what she is not, these writers and artists are not elevating women.  They are demeaning and demoting them.

The fictional heroine who easily encapsulates what a real warrior woman can and should be is Éowyn of Rohan from The Lord of the Rings.  Secretly joining the Rohirrim’s army as it marches to battle in Gondor, she is the one who defeats the Witch-king, the leader of the Nine Ringwraiths or Názgul.  Merry, taken into Gondor by her when she wore the guise of a male Rider, helps her with a well-placed sword-thrust.  But it is Éowyn who ultimately strikes the fatal blow and wins a great victory in the glorious Battle of the Pelennor Fields.

Still, many Feminists go into apoplectic fits over Éowyn’s role in The Lord of the Rings novels despite her amazing display of courage and fighting skill.  Why?  They do this because Éowyn leaves war behind forever when she decides to accept Faramir’s proposal of marriage after recovering from her battle with the Witch-king.  That particular passage reads thus:

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Then the heart of Éowyn changed, or else at last she understood it. And suddenly her winter passed, and the sun shone on her.

‘I stand in Minas Anor, the Tower of the Sun,’ she said; ‘and behold! the Shadow has departed! I will be a shieldmaiden no longer, nor vie with the great Riders, nor take joy only in the songs of slaying. I will be a healer, and love all things that grow and are not barren.’

Image result for eowyn and faramirThe thing Feminists do not understand – or the thing which they absolutely refuse to accept – is that Éowyn’s triumph in battle does not define her.  She did an amazing, wonderful thing, which most other people could never accomplish.  Her decision to marry Faramir does not render her defeat of the Witch-king any less; rather, her decision to marry is the reward she earned in that fight.

Éowyn’s part in the Battle of the Pelennor Fields does not define her identity, and most Feminists want that stereotype to define and limit her.  This is most of Éowyn’s own problem in the trilogy until she falls in love with Faramir.  Up to that point, she believes that battle will give her satisfaction.  Poisoned along with Théoden by Wormtongue’s whisperings, in her confusion and slow descent into despair Éowyn decides that only death in battle will give her a chance at glory and renown.

Now, readers, the fact is that death is not a fulfillment of life.  It is the end of life, and if you ally yourself with death, you are allying yourself with the Enemy.

In Minas Tirith – originally named Minas Anor or ‘Tower of the Sun’ – Éowyn finally comes to see that battle is not where she can be most useful when she is at last confronted by Faramir’s genuine love for her.  Being a warrior is not her calling, although she can certainly wield a sword as well as any man.  Her vocation in life is being a woman, a wife, and eventually a mother.

Through Éowyn the author of the trilogy, J.R.R. Tolkien, demonstrates that a woman is not made by her fighting ability.  She is distinguished by her will, her womanhood and – if she is lucky – by her motherhood.  “For the hand that rocks the cradle is that hand that rules the world.”  Mothers shape their children, daughters and sons both.  These daughters and sons will grow up to change the world through the things they do, the things they create, and the children they bring into the universe.

Modern media has largely forsaken this understanding of womanhood at the behest of the Hegelian/Nietzschean complex, the modern incarnation of Sauron.  There has been a war going on for the past century or three which most have not paid heed to.  This has led to nothing but a lot of pain for women, who have been persuaded as a group to throw away the knowledge that they once possessed. Their honor is their womanhood and it is our societal honor to know them as such.


This is why I have taken issue with Jane Foster’s identity change, not to mention the identity change of several other formerly male characters.  This is why I have written two posts on strong women.  It is an attempt to remind women of what we truly are and what we can actually achieve.  For when women stop valuing themselves as women, society stops valuing them as well, and then that society sooner rather than later treats them like chattel.

ISIS does this on a daily basis.  Slave traders and sex traffickers rely on such attitudes to do “business.”  The shout of “I am Woman, hear me roar!” has led to nothing but pain and sorrow for millions of women.  They have chosen to debase themselves.  This means they are no longer worthy of special respect and value to men.  For if women do not value themselves as women, as potential wives and mothers, then why should men?

Does all this mean that a woman cannot fight?  Pshaw.  Éowyn fought, did she not?  It is not possible that she forgot how to swing a sword after marrying Faramir.  She simply did not make a living fighting – and for the record, neither did he!  The heroines of Marvel Comics fight; the women in Star Trek and Star Wars fight.  The will to fight is the influential factor.  Just ask the mothers and wives who grabbed a gun to help defend against Indian raids or bandits back in the Old West!  Or those that defend themselves and their families similarly today.

But if a woman wants to make a career as a warrior, she cannot try and be the equal of the men.  This can never be, for the simple fact that no amount of human interference – psychological or scientific – can overwrite what she is.  And if a woman decides she wishes to be a “shieldmaiden,” then she had better be prepared for what could happen to her on the field of battle.  Torture, the loss of life and limb, rape – these are just some of the risks which I can see ahead of a female soldier.  An enemy who does not value life – and there are many of those today – can be abominably creative in the management of prisoners.  Just ask Dean Koontz.

Han and Leia

Does all this mean that I believe a woman should not be prepared to fight?  Civilization is a very, very fragile construction.  One small thing goes out of whack and entire nations fall to their knees.  Women definitely need to know how to defend themselves.  They have always needed to know this.

But what women need to relearn is that it is not battle which will define them.  Battle does not define a man, so how can it define a woman?  A man or a woman is defined by who and what they are.  A man is defined by his manhood, a woman by her womanhood.  That is all there is to it.

This is not weakness.  It is not slavery.  Knowing who and what you are is not a defect; it is a strength.  Being proud of being a man or a woman is what gives one the will to fight, to protect oneself from those who do not appreciate you for who and what you are.  Muscles, weapons, skills – these are the tools.  They are not the determining factors.  We, men and women, are the weapons.

Until writers at Marvel, DC, Star Trek, and elsewhere figure that out, though, we will have to endure continuous watered-down portrayals of heroines in many stories.  Until these “artists” ask themselves, “What really makes a strong woman?”, they will continue coming up with the wrong answers.

Readers, I will give Mr. L’Amour the last word on this subject:

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She’ll stand to it.  There’s a likely craft, lad, and one to sail any sea.  You can see it in the clear eyes of her and the way she carries her head.  Give me always a woman with pride, and pride of being a woman.  She’s such a one. – from The Warrior’s Path

Amen, readers.  Amen!

The Mithril Guardian


Book Review: Shane by Jack Schaefer

“Call me Shane.”

I do not recollect seeing the film Shane. I know that Fonzie, of Happy Days fame, swore by the movie and would become highly upset with someone who admitted that they had never seen it.

But I have done one better. I have read the book.

“Call me Shane.” That is what the stranger who rides up to the Starrett farm tells the man of the house. Joe Starrett, owner of this homestead in the Wyoming territory, is trying to make the farm work. His son, Robert MacPherson Starrett – “Bob” because his full title is “too much name for a boy” – is the protagonist of the story. Having watched Shane approach from a distance, Bob is intrigued by the stranger. Of all the men he has seen in town, none are like Shane. Not even his father, whom he loves more than any other man, quite compares to Shane’s carefully concealed strength.

Joe Starrett invites Shane in for dinner and introduces him to his wife, Marian. Shane treats her like the lady from the East that she is, inspiring her to curtsy to him when he makes the proper opening gesture of respect. Shane accepts Joe’s offer of a place to sleep that night, though since the house only has enough room for the family, he will have to sleep in the barn.

The next day, Bob’s father tells the drifter that he is in a tight spot. One of the local ranchers – a man named Fletcher – is trying to “crowd” Mr. Starrett and a bunch of other farmers off of their land. Called “nesters” by Fletcher (and other ranchers like him) because they “nest” on the open range the ranchers used to let their herds feed on freely, the farmers are no match for Fletcher’s wealth, influence, and power. For instance, just a few months before, Joe’s young helper was chased off by some of Fletcher’s men. They beat him up badly, after which he packed his things, “cursed” Joe Starrett, and left without a backward glance.

Joe makes sure to mention this to Shane when he essentially offers to hire the other man. Shane states he knows nothing about farming, but he takes the job all the same. Months pass, and as they do, Bob watches Shane. Over the course of time he grows to love Shane as a second father.

Shane is a short book, but it is well worth reading. My description of it here is diminished because if I say much more, I will spoil the story completely. A longer book has more leeway for description; more happens that can be described without spoiling the novel too much.

Jack Schaefer’s book, while it is sixteen chapters, does not have a lot of flexibility in this regard. If I say too much more about the story, I will tell you a good deal more than I wish to say.

As a final note, I know why Fonzie swears by the film. If it was even half as good as the book, it is worth swearing by. Shane is a classic, without question. If you can grab a copy, readers, it will be well worth your money!

See ya around!

The Mithril Guardian


Book Review: The Cherokee Trail by Louis L’Amour

The Cherokee Trail

Those of you who have attended to this blog for any length of time will recognize the title of this post. If you were to type The Cherokee Trail into the search engine on the right hand side of your screen, you would probably get more results than I care to calculate.

At the dawn of this blog’s existence, I wrote a post about a book which contained many quotes from Louis L’Amour’s stories. This book had been compiled by the famous author’s actress daughter, Angelique L’Amour. And yet, despite the fact that he is one of my favorite authors, I have not reviewed a novel written by the man who brought the West to life for so many people.

That ends today, readers. This post is about The Cherokee Trail, written by Louis L’Amour, published in 1982.

The Cherokee Trail focuses on one M. O. Breydon, the widow of Major M. O. Breydon. Mrs. Mary O. Breydon is on her way west with her daughter, Peg. She is riding the stagecoach to Cherokee Station, a stage station along the Cherokee Trail. This station is where her husband planned to get a job. Since he is dead, murdered by guerrillas, the job has fallen to her. She needs the money, and she intends to hold this job no matter what.

Mrs. Breydon and Peg are not the only passengers on this stage. There is an Irish girl just a few years younger than Mrs. Breydon herself and a well dressed, heavy set man. There is also a younger man, seated at the opposite end of the bench across from her and her daughter, whose insinuating glances discomfit Mrs. Breydon.

And there is a young, grey eyed man with three pistols in his belt and a black hat pulled low over his face who is seated right next to Peg.

The Irish girl, Matty Maginnis, initiates a conversation with Mrs. Breydon, which the men enter in on. During this conversation it is revealed that Cherokee Station is run by an uncouth drunk named Scant Luther. The man has a bad reputation and no respect for women. Nevertheless, Mary Breydon plans to dismiss him as her husband would have. And she plans to take his job, which her husband accepted before he was murdered: the management of Cherokee Station.

Well, the stage pulls into the station, a soused Luther comes out, and a scene ensues. Mary Breydon has the letter giving him notice of his discharge and replacement read out loud in front of him and the other stage passengers. Luther does not take kindly to being replaced – especially by a woman from back East. He sits down in the doorway of the station and challenges Mrs. Breydon to fire him.

And fire him she does – with a horsewhip! Right in the middle of his statement of the rules for the challenge, she takes the stage driver’s whip from his hand and it is obvious she knows how to use it. Four lashes later, plus one hard look from the grey eyed man on the stage, and Luther decides to hustle on out of the way. For now.

Mrs. Breydon cleans up some of the mess he left behind in the station building and gets a suitable lunch set out for the passengers. Two of the men ride on in the stage while Matty remains at the station, taking Mrs. Breydon’s offer of a job as maid and cook. The grey eyed man, Temple Boone, decides to stay the night as well, since he has a horse waiting for him in the station’s stables.

In addition, Mrs. Breydon finds a young boy named Wat Tanner standing outside the station building. She invites him to work for her as well, and he agrees, so long as its “man’s work” and not “women’s work” – such as washing the dishes!

The Cherokee Trail was, I believe, the first novel of Louis L’Amour’s which I ever read. It not only impressed me, it made me hungry for more. Mr. L’Amour led a colorful life, and he wrote something on the order of over two hundred books. He used a variety of pen names before signing his books with his real name. Apparently, the publishers did not believe a name like “Louis L’Amour” would catch people’s attention. John Wayne – real name Marion Morrison – had to use a pseudonym in his work for similar reasons.

Louis L’Amour researched all his novels carefully, and the Author’s Note which precedes The Cherokee Trail proves it. Someday soon I will review another novel of his. For the time being, readers, you have an assignment: search out and read The Cherokee Trail. It is worth the hunt, and if you do not love it for any reason, I am truly sorry to hear that. If you do like it – welcome to the range, partner! We’ve been expectin’ ya!

Until next time!

The Mithril Guardian



The Cherokee Trail

“It’s like the rest of them, mum. No matter where you are, there is always something else that might be better, just a little further west.”

It was true, of course. Wandering got into the blood, and there were always those greener pastures that lay over the fence or over the next range of mountains.

Here all was strange and new and yet somehow familiar. Western men and women had little time for contemplation, although Temple Boone said he did most of his thinking alongside a campfire or when riding. Western men were thinking of how things could be done; they were used to making do. Since coming to Cherokee, she had heard several stories of men alone who had set their own broken bones, amputated limbs, doing what could be done to survive. Only a few miles away, two sisters had built their own log cabin. – The Cherokee Trail by Louis L’Amour