Showing posts with label The Ox-Bow Incident. Show all posts
Showing posts with label The Ox-Bow Incident. Show all posts

Monday, January 3, 2011

Walter Van Tilburg Clark: The Ox-Bow Incident

Warning: I will discuss significant plot elements and the ending.

Walter Van Tilburg Clark: The Ox-Bow Incident

Gil and I crossed the eastern divide about two by the sun. We pulled up for a look at the little town in the big valley and the mountains on the other side, with the crest of the Sierra showing faintly beyond like the rim of a day moon. We didn't look as long as we do sometimes after a winter range, we were excited about getting back to town. When the horses had stopped trembling from the last climb, Gil took off his sombrero, pushed his sweaty hair back with the same hand, and returned the sombrero, the way he did when something was going to happen. We reined to the right and went slowly down the steep stage road.


I don't have to tell anyone what kind of story this is. How many western novels and films have we seen that opened just this way--one or more men on the top of a hill, looking down at a small town in the valley, one road leading into town and one leading out in the opposite direction, and surrounded by snow-capped mountains?

In The Ox-Bow Incident, Walter Van Tilburg Clark gives us the full treatment: the saloon, the painting of the nude behind the bar, the poker game, the accusations of cheating, the barroom brawl, cattle rustlers, and a posse. We get the full picture from Art Croft, the first person narrator of the story. He's one of the two men we meet in the first paragraph and the naive narrator, for he tells us honestly what he sees and thinks and feels, but he doesn't realize the full implications of his tale.

Clark turns the accepted stereotypes around in this tale. It isn't the card sharper who's accused of cheating, it's Gil Carter, Art Croft's working buddy. The fight resulting from that wasn't the typical good-natured brawl we've come to expect from numerous John Wayne westerns. After Gil knocks out his accuser, he then is about to continue beating on the unconscious man when the bartender knocks him out with a skillfully wielded bottle.

Then a rider rushes into town and tells them that the rustlers have struck again, and this time they murdered Kinkaid, a lifelong friend of Farnley, the man who had accused Carter of cheating and had gotten knocked out as a result. Farnley is now out for blood. A posse is formed, but this is not the typical posse one finds in a typical western. This one doesn't rush off in pursuit but delays and delays while the debate goes on.

The debate is simple. What will happen to the men if the posse catches up to them. This is a serious issue for the sheriff is not available to lead the posse, assuming he would even want one. The storekeeper, the minister, and the judge argue that they should be brought back to town for trial. But, there are those, who argue that the law is too slow and too uncertain. Some crooked lawyer might confuse the jury and they might go free. Justice should be quick and certain and on-the-spot and ideally should avoid the necessity of a trial; one can hardly believe that these are real Americans saying these things here!

Why does the posse hang around? My guess is that most of the men feared that there would be a lynching and didn't want to become part of it because they knew it was wrong but were afraid to speak out against it. Why? They feared they might be considered a coward, or perhaps a friend of the rustlers, or perhaps "womanish," the major fear of most of them there. Croft himself refers to those who speak out in favor of bringing them back for trial and cowardly and "womanish."

Someone in the watching crowd asks what they are waiting for and someone else replies "a leader." A cynic remarks that they are really looking for a scapegoat in case something goes wrong, a prophetic remark that comes true by the end of the novel.

A leader appears, a former Confederate army officer, who brings information about cattle tracks heading out of the valley and up into the mountains. They mount up again and finally go. They catch up to three men, driving a small herd of cattle that belongs to one of the ranchers in the valley. One of the posse works for the rancher and insists that he would never sell cattle in the spring, and that he would always give the buyer a receipt. There was no receipt, and moreover, one of the three had a gun that belonged to Kinkaid, the murdered ranch-hand. The three still insist they are innocent and ask that they be brought back to town while their story is checked out. Such a simple thing to ask.

But, it's too much to ask. Justice must be served. The men vote, and only five vote to bring them back to town and let the law handle it. Art Croft and Gil Carter vote with the majority to hang them now.

This is a bare-boned synopsis of this short novel, some 220 pages long in my edition. What Clark gives us, through Art Croft's eyes, is an examination of why relatively decent men turn into a lynch mob, for that is what the posse really is. And all know it from the beginning. When Croft revives Gil after being knocked out by the bartender, they discover something is going on outside the saloon, and when they ask, Canby the barkeep replies, "Lynching, I'd judge."

They are not monsters, inflamed by a desire to kill somebody. I think the delay demonstrates that. Unlike the myth of the American male as one who thinks for himself and makes decisions based on what is right and wrong in spite of what the crowd may want, Clark shows us that they are strongly influenced by those around them, influenced sufficiently to vote for death, even though they may feel it wrong, by the fear that others may not see them as true men, but as cowards or womanish.

As I mentioned earlier, Clark did not fashion a mob of blood-thirsty people. Some were nasty and downright evil; they enjoyed the situation and looked forward to the hanging. Others were trapped on the one hand by their own sense that this was not right and on the other by their perception of the myth of what a man was like. Showing compassion for others or concern for the law was not part of the myth. In fact, even the victims were expected to act as men, strong and silent and taking their punishment like a man, as several told them repeatedly. All were disgusted when one of the men, Martin, broke down and began crying.

One of the most ironic comments in the story is a thought by Croft. After Martin, seemed to regain control, Croft thought, I hoped, for our sake as much as his, that he'd make the decent end he now had his will set on. (emphasis mine) Martin should now straighten up and take his punishment decently as a man should, and that would make it easier for the lynchers as well as for him.

The Ox-Bow Incident ("incident," a truly ironic title) was published in 1940, and the film, starring Henry Fonda, Dana Andrews, Anthony Quinn, and Henry Morgan, came out in 1943. The ending was changed in the film to make Carter and Croft oppose the hanging. The DVD of the film had an interview with the son of the director, William Wellman, who explained that the studio felt that the ending was too bleak for the American public in midst of the war. Apparently they felt Americans wanted heroes more than they wanted the truth.

Back in the 1960s and '70s, many organizations were holding consciousness raising sessions to show men and women the way that cultural expectations were restricting the freedom of women. I remember that someone once suggested the same be done for men for they also were controlled by cultural expectations. Unfortunately nothing ever came of it, or at least I had never heard of anything happening.

Overall Reaction: This novel should be required reading for every high school and college student in the USA.

Monday, August 3, 2009

Walter Van Tilburg Clark: August 3, 1909--Nov. 10, 1971

Today is the birth date of an exceptional writer, but unfortunately one who will probably never be listed in the first rank of great American writers. Why? Limited output is the villain.

Clark has only three novels, a number of short stories, and some poems to his credit. Critics and scholars would argue that these are too few to really judge an author's ability and therefore a position in any literary ranking. Yet, I would argue that even this limited body of work demonstrates his skill in depicting settings for his finely detailed and carefully crafted characters and their actions.

Clark has frequently been relegated to the western ghetto because his works are set in a western setting. But, this is similar to putting Austen's novels into the romance category, as I have seen some booksellers do. Most of his work is set out west, but the themes in his stories are found everywhere, not just in the land of sagebrush and saguaros and are still prevalent today. Here is one example:

The Ox-Bow Incident:

First Paragraph--
"Gil and I crossed the eastern divide about two by the sun. We pulled up for a look at the little town in the big valley and the mountains on the other side, with the crest of the Sierra showing faintly beyond like the rim of a day moon."

It opens as many western novels and films have begun--one or two riders cresting a ridge and then seeing the small town down in the valley surrounded by mountains. We next are given a description of the Edenic countryside, for it is Spring and the summer heat has not yet appeared. They then leave Eden, ride down to the town, and head for the saloon. One of them even gets into a brief brawl, for they've been isolated during the winter and have come down to loosen up a bit.

But shortly afterwards the real theme of the novel appears--that oxymoron called "vigilante justice." We hear that a man has been killed and cattle stolen, something has to be done. The story is a depiction of the dynamics of the growth of a lynch mob. The sheriff is a few hours away, and the rustlers may get away. They form a posse and capture three men who have a small herd that they claim they bought from a local rancher. But, there is no bill of sale.

The posse soon divides itself into three groups: those who are for hanging them now, even though there is a sheriff and a judge in town. These argue that the law can't be trusted, and some smart lawyer will get them off. These people are around today, arguing that at times we must ignore the law and act on our own, even if it breaks the law.

A second and smaller group insists that the men and the cattle should be returned to town and to let the law handle the situation.

But by far, the largest group is the undecided and the fearful. Among the fearful are the two POV characters who rode into town. They along with some others would just as soon turn them over to the authorities, but they are afraid to vote this way for fear of what the others may think. By voting against the hanging, they could be seen as showing sympathy for the captured trio and the others might think they are in with them.

In a farcical parody of a trial, the posse votes to hang the three men. Only five vote to bring them back to town and to let the law handle it: among the five are one who would be characterized as a "bleeding-heart liberal minister" by many today, a black man, the son of the Southern gentleman leading the mob, and two others.

A film was made of The Ox-Bow Incident, starring Henry Fonda, Dana Andrews, Anthony Quinn, and Harry Morgan. It was fairly close to the novel, but somebody decided the ending was too bleak, so Henry Fonda's character acted more heroically than he did in the novel.

I've often wondered about the title--it's an incident, something really very minor and inconsequential.


Clark's other two novels are The Track of the Cat and The City of Trembling Leaves. The first was also made into a film starring Robert Mitchum. I haven't seen it yet, but it's in my Netflix queue, and I'll been watching it soon. The second, The City of Trembling Leaves, has no violence, no car chases, no exploding buildings and no shootouts, and therefore nobody has thought about making film of this one. After seeing what Hollywood does to other novels, I'm actually happy that they haven't gotten their hands on this one.

The Track of the Cat has what appears to be a simple plot. A panther or large cat has been killing cattle. Several brothers decide to kill it, and I suspect that the film limits itself to this theme. In the novel though, at the same time as the threat from the large cat, the sons and daughter are getting dissatisfied with their very restricted and regimented lives. This puts a severe strain on the family cohesiveness.

The third novel, The City of Trembling Leaves, is the story of a young boy, Tim Hazzard, growing up into manhood in Reno, Nevada, where Clark himself grew up and lived for many years. Some of the events, especially of Tim Hazard's teen years, seem so real that one can only wonder if Clark himself hadn't experienced them.

The novel opens with a "Prelude," with its musical inflections, for Hazard will grow up to be a composer.

Prelude:
"This is the story of the lives and loves of Timothy Hazard, and so, indirectly, a token biography of Reno, Nevada, as well. Now, whatever else Reno may be, and it is many things, it is the city of trembling leaves. The most important meaning of leaves is the same everywhere in Reno, of course, and everywhere else, for that matter, which is what Tim implies when he calls moribund any city containing a region which you can look all around and not see a tree. Such a city is drawing out of its alliance with the eternal, with the Jurassic Swamps and the Green Mansions, and in time it will also choke out the trees in the magic wilderness of the spirit."

Tim Hazard is, among many things, a mystic, though he doesn't know it, and probably wouldn't know what you meant if you told him so. He has a unique relationship with place, and a philosophy, though he doesn't call it that, that at times verges on Taoism.

I think I've rambled on long enough now, so I'll close here. Sometime in the future, I will write about some of his short stories.

All three novels are great reads and well worth the time spent reading them.