By which I mean writers from the West who write about the West. By the "West", I mean the West of the Mississippi United States in general, and the various regions of the West as well.
I don't mean writers like Annie Proulx, who move into an area, write something that they set in the area, and then are celebrated by reviewers outside of the area who are completely ignorant on the area in the first place. Or even ones like Sam Western.
Nothing was western about the originator of Western writing, Owen Wister, who was an East Coaster through and through.
I'm not saying, well not saying completely, that a person has to be born in one area to write knowledgeably about it. There are certainly examples to the contrary. Cormac McCarthy has notably written about the west of Texas and in the Southern Gothic style, but he's from Rhode Island originally. Owen Wister, who is sometimes credited with inventing the Western novel (and at the time he wrote The Virginian he was writing about the recent past) was very much an Easterner. His friend Theodore Roosevelt wrote beautifully about the West of his day, but he was a new Yorker. Frederic Remington, the legendary illustrator and painter, is not only famous for his Western paintings and illustrations, which dramatically capture an era, but he was a writer as well, writing on the same topics that he depicted in his paintings. Edward Abbey was from Pennsylvania and didn't experience the West until he was 18 years old. Thomas Berger who wrote the only really great novel about Indians, Little Big Man, lived on the East Coast his entire life.
President Theodore Roosevelt, who was also a prolific reader and writer.
But I am saying that there's something different about writing on a culture that you are part of and about a region you are from. I'd even go on to say that its really difficult to do that without being born in an area. Some writers can pull that off, but they are few. So if you were born and raised in New England, or Zimbabwe, two actual examples for recent "Western writers", you can probably credibly pull off novels about the shipping news, or not going to the dogs tonight, but your regional novels aren't going to appear authentic to anyone from the region at all, because they are not.
Indeed, could Go Kill A Mockingbird have been written by anyone but a Southerner? What about anything that Flannery O'Connor wrote. . . would they have been just as impactful if written by a Vermonter? Would Doctor Zhivago have been what it was if it was written by a New Yorker? Could Musashi have been written by anyone other than Ejii Yoshikawa?
I doubt it.
Boris Pasternak, who was born in Imperial Russia in 1890 and who died in the Soviet Union in 1960. His famous work is the novel about the Russian doctor Zhivago, who would have been born right about the same time and and have experienced many of the same things. Hardly anybody would maintain that a non Russian, let alone a non Russian who hadn't experienced these things, could have written a novel like Doctor Zhivago.
So I'm talking about writers who have spent their youth, even if not perhaps born here, in the real West. Writers growing up, like Norman Maclean, in Montana, or writers growing up in Wyoming, Idaho, Nebraska, North and South Dakota, New Mexico, and so forth. And writers, I will credit, from Texas. Having said all of that, I'd currently exclude writers, for the most part, who may be from any of those regions but whose lives have been spent in the really big cities of the region, like Denver, Dallas or Houston. Big cities are their own thing, and that thing isn't the West. Modern Denver, and indeed increasingly much of the Front Ranger for hundreds of miles around it, are no more The West than Newark is. So too with Las Vegas, Phoenix, or any of the giant Texas cities.
Anyhow, some observations.
Western writers, as I've defined them, clearly have a deep, deep, love for the region. If you read, for example, Norman Maclean's work, he clearly loved Montana. Indeed, no other writer described the Rocky Mountain West as accurately and deeply as Maclean. Nobody.
Mari Sandoz clearly loved Nebraska and the plains. So did Willa Cather.
And what's so notable about that is that they all left the region they loved.
In the film A River Runs Through It and in the novella, Norman Maclean has his brother express the view that he, the brother, will "never leave Montana". Indeed, Maclean has Paul, his brother, express the view that those who moved from Montana to the West Coast suffered from moral defects, a view a lot of Westerners do in fact have. But both Paul Maclean and Norman Maclean, in real life, moved to Chicago. At the time that he wrote his works, late in life, Norman Maclean had spent more years in Chicago than in Montana. He died in Chicago in 1990 at age 87 (his wife, Jessie, had a much shorter life, dying due to respiratory aliments in 1968 at age 63).
Mari Sandoz was born in Nebraska in 1896. She moved to Denver, which at that time remained a Western city, in 1940, at which time she was 44 years old, but then moved to New York City in 1943, where she remained until her death at age 69 in 1966.
Wila Cather, was born in 1873 and her family moved to Nebraska in 1883. She was steeped in the West from her youth, but she moved to Pittsburgh in 1896, at which time she was an up and coming writer. She moved to New York in 1905, which is where she remained for the rest of her life.
What's going on here? It seems that "Western" writers don't achieve success at that unless they've moved to somewhere distinctly non Western.
Maybe some of that has to do with what Garrison Keillor, who is a Western writer (Minnesota and North Dakota are part of the West the way I've defined them) noted about the region in general. Our number one export is our children. While we often don't credit it, and we frequently argue about it, the West has both a small population and a good educational system. We work hard here to educate our youth, but we really don't have anywhere for them to go, as a rule. That's been noted by outsiders, such as non Westerner, Sam Western (who is in the non Westerner import class of writer), but they rarely seem to grasp the nature of it. The West remains the West, where it has, because of natural features which translate into economic ones. This means that while we really appreciate the need for solid educations, it also means that we educate generation after generation of Westerners who have no place to go with their educations. So they go elsewhere.
That seems to me to be the story for Maclean and Cather. Norman Maclean obtained a degree in English from Dartmouth in 1924. What use would that have been in the Montana of 1924, or for that matter in the Montana of 2019? It'd be limited, at best. He clearly retained his affection for Montana and spoke of himself, from his actual home in Chicago, as a Montanan in his writings. He married a woman from Montana in 1931, showing the extent to which he retained actual roots there. But he lived and died in Chicago.
The situation for Cather was likely even more pronounced. An educated woman in the West in the 1890s, her career options were necessarily highly limited. Indeed, they were limited in the Western world in general. She never married, something very unusual for her era, and focused on her writing career, but that would fairly obviously be a lot easier to do from New York than from Nebraska.
Sandoz doesn't quite fit this mold, but maybe she provides another example. Sandoz was a difficult character from her youth on but first found herself published while living in Nebraska, having relocated to Lincoln from the Sand Hills. She's struggled up to that point to establish herself as a writer, but when she did, it was with two novels both of which met with gigantic disapproval in Nebraska. So she moved to Denver, and then on to New York.
And perhaps Michael Punke gives us another example. Punke is the author of The Revenant. Punke was born in Torrington Wyoming. He's a practicing lawyer, as well as an author (and therefore obviously a much more disciplined person than myself), but he has worked nearly exclusively outside of the West, both inside of and outside of government.
And maybe Punke's example brings home that this phenomenon is widespread with Westerners in general. At what point you cease to be a Westerner by leaving a region can be debated. I think it that does happen, and am one of the many who disregard lamentations published in the letters to the editor section of the newspapers that start off with "I read the article about so and so last week, and while I left Wyoming forty years ago. . . .".
But it's clear that people who were largely raised in a region conceive of themselves, quite often, as remaining part of it their entire lives. Which I suppose makes sense. Wendell Berry has lamented that modern American life means that people don't become "of" a place, but maybe they do more than we might imagine (which is another reason that novelist from Zimbabwe or Vermont don't become regional authors by moving here). Beyond that, however, what we see with writers may be nothing more than what we see with legions of Westerners.
For a long time, at least for rural Westerners, which is a definition that would fit many in the West, growing up and getting an education has meant either narrowing the scope of your education or leaving. I.e., if you are educated as a lawyer, doctor, veterinarian, school teacher, accountant, or engineer, you can find work here. But if you have a PhD in English, you probably better be looking elsewhere.
Indeed, even with these other professions, as time marches on, this is becoming more and more true. In 1990, at the time I graduated from the University of Wyoming's law school, it was already the case that maybe 1/3d of the class was headed to Colorado. In some recent years over half the class has, as changes in the nature of practice have made that necessary. Indeed, with the passage of the UBE, there's really no longer a reason for a Wyoming law school at all, and its only a matter of time until the legislature realizes that.
For some this is compounded with the American ethos of money meaning everything. There are areas of various professions you can find work in the state, to be sure, but it won't pay the same lucrative amount that it might elsewhere. So people move for the money. Interestingly, they often find themselves in personal conflict after that, and are often among those writing to the editor with letters such as; "I'm distressed to read that such and so is going in near my beloved home town of Little Big Horn. . . I want it to be just like it was when I left in 1959 and I'm planning to return soon from the hideous dump of Los Angeles where I've been piling up cash since the early 1960s . . ."
So, maybe it's the nature of the regional economy, and perhaps the national economy at that. Writers gravitate to where the writers are, and the writers, by and large, are in the big cities.
Not all of them of course, but a lot of them.
Maybe.
Maybe something else is also at work, and perhaps that's most notable in what we noted above about Mari Sandoz. She didn't leave Nebraska for more futile publishing grounds. She left Nebraska as she was taking a lot of heat after getting published. Indeed, her second novel was censored in the state.
So maybe its the classic example of a person not really being too welcome on their own home ground in some instances.
In fairness, Sandoz's writing was always very critical of various things, and indeed quite frankly her histories, for which she remains famous, aren't terribly accurate in various ways. At least her histories haven't born the test of time except, perhaps, for Old Jules, the book her extraordinarily difficult father asked her to write about him after his passing. But still, maybe the West doesn't welcome its own writers much?
Or maybe it does. Novelist Jim Harrison, who was from Michigan, which is pretty rural in some locations and the near west to a degree, lived in Arizona and Montana after leaving Michigan. Garrison Keillor, mentioned above, flirted with New York after already being well known, but returned to Minnesota. Patrick McManus, the humor writer, lived in the West his entire life. Current crime writer C. J. Box, whose protagonist is a Wyoming Game Warden, is from Wyoming. Tim Sandlin, whom I've never read, was born in Oklahoma but lives in Jackson.
Indeed, if Oklahoma is sort of like Texas in some ways, it's worth noting that Texas has had a lot of native authors who have continued to live in Texas, Larry McMurtry notable among them. McMurtry grew up on a ranch outside of Archer, Texas, a town so far north in Texas its nearly in Oklahoma.
So added to that, maybe these long distance travels aren't as far as they seem. . . in some instances. In my grandfather's era Chicago was the hub of the western cattle industry and Denver just a very large city on the plains. Chicago's role in that went away, but the point is that economists and politicians who are baffled by the fact that the West doesn't spawn very many large cities are potentially missing the point that it has. . . its just that everything is more spread out here. So Chicago, a Midwestern city, may have more of a link to the West of an earlier era than we might suppose. Denver serves that purpose for much of the Northern Plains now and, I dare say, Calgary does as well at a certain point.
Indeed, those cities filled that roles, or fill them, as they were, or are, centers of industry for regions. And while we don't like to think of writing as an industry, it's a type of one, so perhaps some relocation makes sense. Indeed, it might even now, in spite of the electronic age, which seems to be pulling the working population towards the city centers like a black hole draws in light.
Anyhow, something to ponder.
