Far Bright Star: Robert Olmstead Writes Another Masterpiece of Americana

Far Bright Star, a loosely linked sequel to Olmstead's Civil War/coming of age classic, Coal Black Horse, is every bit as engaging and beautifully written as its predecessor. At the conclusion of Coal Black Horse, the book's young protagonist, Robey Childs, marries and fathers two strapping sons: Napoleon and Xenophon. Far Bright Star reacquaints the reader with these two brothers, now aging adults, as they engage in a new military venture: they're members of a cavalry unit that has been sent into the wilds of Mexico to capture Pancho Villa. Xenophon is a consummate horseman, but Napolean is the leader of the two, and as such he is ordered to muster a ragtag scouting party into the desert to assess Villa's whereabouts.

Never the naive optimist, Napolean has an unusually keen sense of foreboding about the mission. His thinly staffed posse can boast of only one other seasoned cavalryman; the rest of the party consists of drunkards, untried boys, misfits, and a spoiled dandy from the East whose character flaws pose a serious danger to the entire group. Even Napolean's horse, a devilish black behemoth named Rattler, seems apprehensive. Pancho Villa is nowhere to be found, but the group stumbles upon evil nonetheless, and a series of tragic mistakes in judgment culminate in a survival story that will have you gripping the book with white-knuckled hands.

Far Bright Star, like Coal Black Horse, has a mythic, larger than life quality that is enhanced by Olmstead's glorious use of language. Every other page of the book contains a passage that glows like a polished jewel. Olmstead's powerful prose, his consummate skill in portraying the varieties of human character that emerge when men are subjected to extreme circumstances, his ability to transport a reader's five senses into the physical landscape of the story, his willingness to confront the "big questions" -- all of these are compelling reasons to make Olmstead's recent novels part of your personal library.

I listened to this book on compact disc, and I think that Ed Sala's reading performance enhances the impact of the novel. His dry, "man's man" delivery may initially strike the listener as a bit too Cowboy Poetry-esque, but his succinct, no-nonsense tone (think Tommy Lee Jones or Robert Duvall) conveys the flavor of the book perfectly. I fell in love with Sala's true west cadence by the end of the novel.

One cautionary note: some of the events in this book are gruesome. If your stomach churned one too many times at the psychopathic atrocities committed by Blue Duck in Larry McMurtry's Lonesome Dove, this novel may not be for you. One suggestion: read the book, don't listen to it. That way, you can "skim" when the going gets graphic.