âFalling from Horsesâ is a stand-alone novel that takes up the story of Bud Frazer, the son of Martha Lessen, the heroine of âThe Hearts of Horsesâ. Once again, Gloss uses the eastern Oregon ranch settings as background, alternating with memoir-like sections from Bud as he spends a year in California chasing his dream of becoming a stunt rider or actor working in the western movies so prevalent in the 1930s.
On the bus ride to Hollywood, Bud meets a young woman, Lily Shaw, who dreams of writing for the movies, and the two form a friendship that follows them and shapes the rest of their lives.
As always, Gloss uses a strong sense of place and depends on simple language to spell out difficult concepts â sometimes of the harsh life of hardscrabble ranch families in Oregon's high desert country, sometimes the cruelties inherent in the treatment of animals in the film industry of the era. Never sentimental about her animal characters, Gloss nevertheless understands and communicates the ways in which living and working with animals shapes humans as well.
The memoir-like sections told in Bud's voice, read so much like nonfiction that the reader frequently must stop and remember that they, like the third-person narratives of Bud's earlier life on a series of small ranches, are at heart fictional.
Towards the end of the book, Gloss uses Bud's voice to get at the heart of the matter â â[T]he hard knot that is our myth of the cowboy West; the violence on the movie screen and behind it and the way the humanity has been hollowed out of our movie heroes and villains, the poverty, isolation, and precariousness of ranch work, the dignity and joy of it, and the necessary cruelty.â
While not the best of Gloss's works, it's still rewarding on a number of levels, and gives a strong voice to what is essentially Americana.
On the bus ride to Hollywood, Bud meets a young woman, Lily Shaw, who dreams of writing for the movies, and the two form a friendship that follows them and shapes the rest of their lives.
As always, Gloss uses a strong sense of place and depends on simple language to spell out difficult concepts â sometimes of the harsh life of hardscrabble ranch families in Oregon's high desert country, sometimes the cruelties inherent in the treatment of animals in the film industry of the era. Never sentimental about her animal characters, Gloss nevertheless understands and communicates the ways in which living and working with animals shapes humans as well.
The memoir-like sections told in Bud's voice, read so much like nonfiction that the reader frequently must stop and remember that they, like the third-person narratives of Bud's earlier life on a series of small ranches, are at heart fictional.
Towards the end of the book, Gloss uses Bud's voice to get at the heart of the matter â â[T]he hard knot that is our myth of the cowboy West; the violence on the movie screen and behind it and the way the humanity has been hollowed out of our movie heroes and villains, the poverty, isolation, and precariousness of ranch work, the dignity and joy of it, and the necessary cruelty.â
While not the best of Gloss's works, it's still rewarding on a number of levels, and gives a strong voice to what is essentially Americana.
