The Virginian (Signet Classics) [Mass Market Paperback]

Owen Wister (Author), Max Evans (Introduction)

Book Description

Release date: April 1, 2002

This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1902 edition. Excerpt: ...--" "He's not a bit like that. Yes, he's exactly like that," said Molly. And she would have snatched the photograph away, but her aunt retained it. "Well," she said, "I suppose there are days when he does not kill people." "He never killed anybody!" And Molly laughed. "Are you seriously--" said the old lady. "I almost might--at times. He is perfectly splendid." "My dear, you have fallen in love with his clothes." "It's not his clothes. And I'm not in love. He often wears others. He wears a white collar like anybody." "Then that would be a more suitable way to be photographed, I think. He couldn't go round like that here. I could not receive him myself." "He'd never think of such a thing. Why, you talk as if he were a savage." The old lady studied the picture closely for a minute. "I think it is a good face," she finally remarked. "Is the fellow as handsome as that, my dear?" More so, Molly thought. And who was he, and what were his prospects? were the aunt's next inquiries. She shook her head at the answers which she received; and she also shook her head over her niece's emphatic denial that her heart was lost to this man. But when their parting came, the old lady said:--"God bless you and keep you, my dear. I'll not try to manage you. They managed me--" A sigh spoke the rest of this sentence. "But I'm not worried about you--at least, not very much. You have never done anything that was not worthy of the Starks. And if you're going to take him, do it before I die so that I can bid him welcome for your sake. God bless you, my dear." And after the girl had gone back to Bennington, the great-aunt had this thought: "She is like us all. She wants a man that is a man." Nor did the old lady breathe her knowledge to any member of the family. For she was...

Editorial Reviews

About the Author

Robert Shulman is Professor of English and American Studies at the University of Washington. --This text refers to the Paperback edition.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.

Chapter One

Enter the Man

Some notable sight was drawing the passengers, both men and women, to the window; and therefore I rose and crossed the car to see what it was. I saw near the track an enclosure, and round it some laughing men, and inside it some whirling dust, and amid the dust some horses, plunging, huddling, and dodging. They were cow ponies in a corral, and one of them would not be caught, no matter who threw the rope. We had plenty of time to watch this sport, for our train had stopped that the engine might take water at the tank before it pulled us up beside the station platform of Medicine Bow.1 We were also six hours late, and starving for entertainment. The pony in the corral was wise, and rapid of limb. Have you seen a skilful boxer watch his antagonist with a quiet, incessant eye? Such an eye as this did the pony keep upon whatever man took the rope. The man might pretend to look at the weather, which was fine; or he might affect earnest conversation with a bystander: it was bootless. The pony saw through it. No feint hoodwinked him. This animal was thoroughly a man of the world. His undistracted eye stayed fixed upon the dissembling foe, and the gravity of his horse-expression made the matter one of high comedy. Then the rope would sail out at him, but he was already elsewhere; and if horses laugh, gayety must have abounded in that corral. Sometimes the pony took a turn alone; next he had slid in a flash among his brothers, and the whole of them like a school of playful fish whipped round the corral, kicking up the fine dust, and (I take it) roaring with laughter. Through the window-glass of our Pullman2 the thud of their mischievous hoofs reached us, and the strong, humorous curses of the cow-boys. Then for the first time I noticed a man who sat on the high gate of the corral, looking on. For he now climbed down with the undulations of a tiger, smooth and easy, as if his muscles flowed beneath his skin. The others had all visibly whirled the rope, some of them even shoulder high. I did not see his arm lift or move. He appeared to hold the rope down low, by his leg. But like a sudden snake I saw the noose go out its length and fall true; and the thing was done. As the captured pony walked in with a sweet, church-door expression, our train moved slowly on to the station, and a passenger remarked, "That man knows his business."

But the passenger's dissertation upon roping I was obliged to lose, for Medicine Bow was my station. I bade my fellow-travellers good-by, and descended, a stranger, into the great cattle land. And here in less than ten minutes I learned news which made me feel a stranger indeed.

My baggage was lost; it had not come on my train; it was adrift somewhere back in the two thousand miles that lay behind me. And by way of comfort, the baggage-man remarked that passengers often got astray from their trunks, but the trunks mostly found them after a while. Having offered me this encouragement, he turned whistling to his affairs and left me planted in the baggage-room at Medicine Bow. I stood deserted among crates and boxes, blankly holding my check, furious and forlorn. I stared out through the door at the sky and the plains; but I did not see the antelope shining among the sage-brush, nor the great sunset light of Wyoming. Annoyance blinded my eyes to all things save my grievance: I saw only a lost trunk. And I was muttering half-aloud, "What a forsaken hole this is!" when suddenly from outside on the platform came a slow voice: --

"Off to get married again? Oh, don't!"

The voice was Southern and gentle and drawling; and a second voice came in immediate answer, cracked and querulous: --

"It ain't again. Who says it's again? Who told you, anyway?"

And the first voice responded caressingly: --

"Why, your Sunday clothes told me, Uncle Hughey. They are speakin' mighty loud o' nuptials."

"You don't worry me!" snapped Uncle Hughey, with shrill heat.

And the other gently continued, "Ain't them gloves the same yu' wore to your last weddin'?"

"You don't worry me! You don't worry me!" now screamed Uncle Hughey.

Already I had forgotten my trunk; care had left me; I was aware of the sunset, and had no desire but for more of this conversation. For it resembled none that I had heard in my life so far. I stepped to the door and looked out upon the station platform.

Lounging there at ease against the wall was a slim young giant, more beautiful than pictures. His broad, soft hat was pushed back; a loose-knotted, dull-scarlet handkerchief sagged from his throat; and one casual thumb was hooked in the cartridge-belt that slanted across his hips. He had plainly come many miles from somewhere across the vast horizon, as the dust upon him showed. His boots were white with it. His overalls were gray with it. The weather-beaten bloom of his face shone through it duskily, as the ripe peaches look upon their trees in a dry season. But no dinginess of travel or shabbiness of attire could tarnish the splendor that radiated from his youth and strength. The old man upon whose temper his remarks were doing such deadly work was combed and curried to a finish, a bridegroom swept and garnished; but alas for age! Had I been the bride, I should have taken the giant, dust and all.

He had by no means done with the old man.

"Why, yu've hung weddin' gyarments on every limb!" he now drawled, with admiration. "Who is the lucky lady this trip?"

The old man seemed to vibrate. "Tell you there ain't been no other! Call me a Mormon,3 would you?"

"Why, that -- "

"Call me a Mormon? Then name some of my wives. Name two. Name one. Dare you!"

" -- that Laramie wido' promised you -- "

"Shucks!"

" -- only her docter suddenly ordered Southern climate and -- "

"Shucks! You're a false alarm."

" -- so nothing but her lungs came between you. And next you'd most got united with Cattle Kate, only -- "

"Tell you you're a false alarm!"

" -- only she got hung."

"Where's the wives in all this? Show the wives! Come now!"

"That corn-fed biscuit-shooter4 at Rawlins yu' gave the canary -- "

"Never married her. Never did marry -- "

"But yu' come so near, uncle! She was the one left yu' that letter explaining how she'd got married to a young cyard-player the very day before her ceremony with you was due, and -- "

"Oh, you're nothing; you're a kid; you don't amount to -- "

" -- and how she'd never, never forget to feed the canary."

"This country's getting full of kids," stated the old man, witheringly. "It's doomed." This crushing assertion plainly satisfied him. And he blinked his eyes with renewed anticipation. His tall tormentor continued with a face of unchanging gravity, and a voice of gentle solicitude: --

"How is the health of that unfortunate -- "

"That's right! Pour your insults! Pour 'em on a sick, afflicted woman!" The eyes blinked with combative relish.

"Insults? Oh, no. Uncle Hughey!"

"That's all right! Insults goes!"

"Why, I was mighty relieved when she began to recover her mem'ry. Las' time I heard, they told me she'd got it pretty near all back. Remembered her father, and her mother, and her sisters and brothers, and her friends, and her happy childhood, and all her doin's except only your face. The boys was bettin' she'd get that far too, give her time. But I reckon afteh such a turrable sickness as she had, that would be expectin' most too much."

At this Uncle Hughey jerked out a small parcel. "Shows how much you know!" he cackled. "There! See that! That's my ring she sent me back, being too unstrung for marriage. So she don't remember me, don't she? Ha-ha! Always said you were a false alarm."

Mass Market Paperback edition.

See all Editorial Reviews

Product Details

• Mass Market Paperback: 400 pages
• Publisher: Signet Classics; 100th Anniversary edition (April 1, 2002)
• Language: English
• ISBN-10: 0451528328
• ISBN-13: 978-0451528322
• Product Dimensions: 6.7 x 4.2 x 0.9 inches
• Shipping Weight: 4 ounces
• Average Customer Review: 4.4 out of 5 stars  See all reviews (50 customer reviews)
• Amazon Best Sellers Rank: #1,408,035 in Books (See Top 100 in Books)

Most Helpful Customer Reviews

42 of 42 people found the following review helpful

5.0 out of 5 stars No doubt about it -- a great Western romance . . . October 16, 2004

By Ronald Scheer

Format:Paperback|Amazon Verified Purchase

For anyone fascinated by how the myth of the Western hero came into being, this is the book to read. Published in 1902, it became hugely popular for decades and inspired movies (a version with Gary Cooper in 1929) and a long-running TV series (1962-1971). A modern reader could easily guess the storyline without reading a synopsis - the classic elements are all there: tall, dark, handsome cowboy hero; pretty schoolmarm from back East; the villain who must finally face justice at the end of a gun.

Few historical novels are dedicated to American presidents, however, and another whole dimension of the novel opens up with the name appearing on the dedication page -- Theodore Roosevelt, a college friend of the author's. What Wister does, besides telling a story of adventure and romance, is portray a particular kind of heroic figure, a natural man whose integrity is untainted by the corrupt (though civilized) values of the East.

The book is a deliberate and often worshipful character study for the age of Teddy Roosevelt-style masculinity. The young Virginian charms us (and the narrator) with his courage and modesty and his thoughtful attempts to understand a world in which some men (even good ones) act dishonorably and make cowardly choices. Stoic and cool on the surface, the currents of sentiment run deep in this man. So does the will to self-improvement, as he reads Shakespeare and Sir Walter Scott.

This book connects with so much of American myth over the last 100 years that you could easily write another book about it. Or you can simply enjoy it for what it is, a historical romance so well conceived, in spite of its sometimes dated views, that you keep on reading through each episode of the story, glad that Wister was in no hurry to cut to the chase.... This is a book for any reader of Western literature, fiction or nonfiction. In it the many traditions of the western come together in popularized form for the first time.

Readers who enjoy this book will also like Elmer Kelton's novel, "The Day the Cowboys Quit." While it's more historically accurate in its portrayal of working cowboys, it captures many of Wister's same narrative elements, in the courage, modesty and thoughtfulness of its hero, its portrayal of the relationship between a top hand and his boss, its fateful pursuit of cattle rustlers, an account of a troubled friendship between two men, and of course the loneliness and yearning at the heart of a man who loves a woman from afar. Read more ›

30 of 31 people found the following review helpful

4.0 out of 5 stars When you call me that, smile! June 9, 1999

By R. D. Allison ([e-mail])

Format:Mass Market Paperback

This is the classic story by Wister (1860-1938) of the ranch foreman, known only as the Virginian, his courtship of Molly Starkwood, the "schoolmarm" from Vermont, and his conflicts with Trampas. In 1977, the Western Writers of America voted this novel as the top western novel of all time. It probably started the whole genre (even if one counts the pulp fiction popular in the late 19th century). Historians have always pointed out that there never really was a "Code of the West." This was just something thought up by writers, journalists, and film makers. The West was made up of both good and bad men, just as today. But, in my opinion, this book challenges that concept. Wister based his characters on real people he interacted with in the West a few years earlier. There really were men like the Virginian. There really were people who, unknowingly, followed a Code (just as there are today).

35 of 39 people found the following review helpful

5.0 out of 5 stars Wister used "Virginian" to elaborate fundamental human truths April 30, 2006

By Bruce Bain

Format:Mass Market Paperback

/

VIRGINIAN -by Owen Wister ( first reviewed 30 April 2006)

Though "The Virginian" has a standing as a Western novel, it is philosophically rich, and Owen Wister used this novel to articulate certain fundamental truths. (I always find great clarification from older books, books written before TV, before Computers, and even before Radio. In these, one can still find clarification of values, that is not easily found in modern literature, when those who write books don't know the difference between "Come!" and "Go sic'em!" ) Wister's book is not just a "shoot'em-up". The reader needs to be aware of the depth of the philosophical arguments offered by his characters

(1)
the definition of a "gentleman" (in Chapter Two)

(2)
the conflict between GOOD (the Virginian) & EVIL (Trampas, the cowhand turned rustler and worse, corrupter of men, resulting in their destruction

(3)
the definition of "love" ; NOT the romantic love between the school teacher and the cowboy. Rather, it was the love the Virginian showed to his fellow cowhands, who were vulnerable to manipulation and deceit by crooked men, and in trying to shepherd souls along the lines of the soul's deepest strengths. (Example: the Judge's hired hand who loved horses).

(4)
the definition of "spirituality"; Wister draws a stark contrast between the traveling preacher, who wears his religious "act" like a cheap black suit and poorly conceals his contempt of common men in his arrogance and superiority complex.
Moreover, Chapter Two demonstrates the essential requirement of HUMILITY that the Virginian manifests (a character trait utterly lacking in the minister)....

(5)
the definition of "conflict": indeed, the entire book is about the very human fight at the very core of life. The Virginian demonstrates the singular truth, clear to anyone who actually engages life, that you cannot find an answer to life's conflict by simply turning away and riding out of town. There is no answer to life's problems in mere "conflict-avoidance", nor in folding our hands and practicing some NAMBY-PAMBY sentiment passing under the guise of LOVE.

I am not proposing that two-handed fisticuffs are the means for resolving all problems. What I am attempting to show is that at some level, whether physical, emotional, ethical or otherwise mental and spiritual, that problems must be faced on some teleological basis.

When The Virginian beats the stuffing out of one of the most despicable of human beings (the abuser of horses) he demonstrates the timelessness of the truth, that good people must stand for something. Even today, deceit and lies have been popularized so that one often hears admonitions, suggesting that we should all practice, "NON-JUDGEMENT." That only bears out, if you choose to embrace ideological horse-flop as life's dearest treasure.

Some fights must be fought, though we do not enjoy them. The EVIL that Trampas represents, will not back down, in its mindlessness. Riding away simply turns over the reins of power to the embodiment of EVIL.

(6)
the definition of "humor": (I cannot spoil the story but...the CHICKEN, the DRUMMERS, the railroad ride after the cattle sale)
There are numerous accounts demonstrating how good people find humor at every chance, and who use humor and imagination to fight evil in everyday circumstances.

(7) DUTY: As Foreman of the Judge's ranch, the Virginian endures many slights and insults to his authority by a "top hand" or two. Not once does he inform the Judge of these difficulties. Why? Because performing his duty includes these things. It is his job; and the Virginian performs his duty as a worthy hand.

The Virginian was written by Wister to a deep purpose, so deep in fact, that I believe it was largely lost on the world. True, it was made into many movies, but even in these, even the great ones, the TRUTHS Wister elaborates in the book are vastly watered down. You cannot acquire Wister's purpose merely by watching a movie. You can only find them in the book.

The book, in the wording of an older era, may seem awkward, perhaps ...slow; but I suggest you think of it as a foray into another place, the Wyoming of a hundred years ago, with vast prairies of open sky, only rarely interrupted by a human dwelling, and more rarely still, by a town. Words then, were a relief from the prairie, which alternates from being vastness of eerie silence, punctuated by violence.

In certain ways, Wister eclipses Melville's "Moby Dick". He was not credited with being the literary giant that Melville enjoys in literary history, but in my opinion, he arrived at a deeper point, and quicker. Melville's characters are melodramatic and driven, often as not, by superstition and wild, incomprehensible urges. Wister's characters are driven by a more familiar greed, a more familiar goodness, a more familiar treachery, an everyday ordinariness, if you will.

When Melville gives his characters something to contend with, they must contend with the ultimate superwhale, Moby Dick, or, it is the strange obsessive madness of the captain. These are less often encountered by people generally, in any age. Wister's evil is not, like Melville's, the Arch-Evil of some cartoonish melodrama. Wister's evil is the cattle rustler, driven by personal selfishness, and a contempt for common values. In my opinion, there is more of a lesson for us in Wister's presentation of evil as more of an everyday, and an ordinary thing, in an ordinary humanity.

There is a foreshadowing in Wister's novel, of a theme exploited to great success by Louis L'Amour half a century later: the notion of a cowhand, who has vaguely ridden on the wrong side of the law. From the start, we become aware that the Virginian is not a "saint". He is a man molded by hard living in the American West. Somewhere on Life's road, a choice was made to care for people, and not merely to steal from others to advance self. Wister's rejection of EGO-CENTRISM as a basis for living is clear. Duty to principle is the honorable alternative.

****** The ACADEMICS and their perspectives on the Virginian*********

There have been some academics who have written prefaces, introductions, and essays about the Virginian, and their natty-brained intellectualizations frequently seem to dominate the public's understanding of the Western, and Wister's tale.

Here's where they go wrong. Writing from the concrete castles of academia, these academics are far removed from the realities of life, especially from the world Wister showed us. Academics operate in an abstract realm of ideas, where they assure themselves that human conflict (and even violence) are all a thing of the past, and that their wordy perambulations have encompassed all that is known of man. After all, they tell us with great bluster and probity that the cowboy and his myth have vanished. That may be so; but what has never changed in life is CONFLICT. It was not removed when TV was invented.

There are those who afford themselves the privilege of scoffing at defining good and evil. These are people who are not engaged in the struggle. They are the spectators in life, and that is why we must guard carefully to never let such tell us how we ought to think and act. Invariably, they will discourage all action. By this philosophy, a cynical and skeptical view is proper, and paralysis, passivity, and inaction, are the order of the day.

Wister's Virginian, shows where a man's duty lies, and how he ought to go about conducting himself in facing conflict. The cowboy may be gone, but human conflict is always with us.

Though literary critics advance Mark Twain or Nabokov or Melville or some such as authors of The Great American Novel, for me, it will always be The VIRGINIAN. --Bruce Bain

/

/ Read more ›

17 of 18 people found the following review helpful

5.0 out of 5 stars An English perspective August 7, 2001

By A Customer

Format:Mass Market Paperback

Like another reviewer, I picked up my copy at a second-hand bookstall before going on holiday. I do this so that I can jettison the book when read without feeling I've wasted money. I recognised the title as that of a TV show, and was expecting an easy-read non-engaging story. How wrong I was. The story is hard to follow and demands concentration. After reading it "to see what happened in the end" I started at the beginning again to relish the writing and enjoy the situations. The story is about the Virginian, but the person who makes the longest journey is Molly. The man's rival is not another man, but another culture. Molly is in love with the man, but he is a cowboy. Although he is the most wonderful, handsome, wise man she has ever met, he wears chaps, carries a rope and a gun, and rides a horse all day. How can she ever possibly take him home to Bennington, where he will be a figure of fun. He will never fit in back home in Vermont. Although Wyoming is in the same country, it might as well be on the moon. Molly cannot bear the thought of the shame that must follow. It gets worse later when she finds out that the man has killed, and intends to kill again. Well, as you all know, love does eventually conquer all, and Molly gives in. The Virginian DOES fit in back East (a bit unbelievably I think) and all is well. Finally, the quality of writing is superb. Every sentence is worthy of that second read to get the best out of it. My favourite quote is "Has any botanist set down what the seed of love is? Has it anywhere been set down in how many ways this seed may be sown? In what various vessels of gossamer it can fall, and live unknown, and bide its time for blooming?" How true.... I think the mark of good writing is how often the reader murmers "Yes, that's true." Well, this book is about cross-cultural relationships and marriage, and I think a lot of it strikes pretty true. Read more ›