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Ride With the Devil
Daniel Woodrell's shattering coming-of-age novel brilliantly captures the lawless universe of war as seen through the eyes of a young secessionist.The 1860s: While the great battles of the Civil War rage in the East, Jayhawkers and bushwhackers wage their own vicious heartland war, savaging all in their wake without conscience or pity. Where the First Kansas Irregulars ride, no one is safe.At sixteen, Jake Roedel joins this piratical band, and partakes in brutality excused in the name of retribution. But as friends fall and families flee, he questions his loyalties. Against a horrific backdrop -- Quantrill's raid on Lawrence, Kansas -- Jake puts himself in the path of his own comrades, becoming an outsider even to those who have become outlaws.
242 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1987
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2503 people want to read
About the author
Daniel Woodrell
27 books1,320 followersGrowing up in Missouri, seventy miles downriver from Hannibal, Mark Twain was handed to me early on, first or second grade, and captivated me for years, and forever, I reckon. Robert Louis Stevenson had his seasons with me just before my teens and I love him yet. There are too many others to mention, I suppose, but feel compelled to bring up Hemingway, James Agee, Flannery O'Connor, John McGahern, Knut Hamsun, Faulkner, George Mackay Brown, Tillie Olsen, W.S. Merwin, Brigit Pegeen Kelly, Andrew Hudgins, Seamus Heaney, Derek Wolco.
Daniel Woodrell was born and now lives in the Missouri Ozarks. He left school and enlisted in the Marines the week he turned seventeen, received his bachelor's degree at age twenty-seven, graduated from the Iowa Writer's Workshop, and spent a year on a Michener Fellowship. His five most recent novels were selected as New York Times Notable Books of the Year, and Tomato Red won the PEN West award for the novel in 1999. Winter's Bone is his eighth novel.
Daniel Woodrell was born and now lives in the Missouri Ozarks. He left school and enlisted in the Marines the week he turned seventeen, received his bachelor's degree at age twenty-seven, graduated from the Iowa Writer's Workshop, and spent a year on a Michener Fellowship. His five most recent novels were selected as New York Times Notable Books of the Year, and Tomato Red won the PEN West award for the novel in 1999. Winter's Bone is his eighth novel.
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September 22, 2023
Savage, brutal, brilliant.
October 5, 2018
”’Good’ doesn’t mean anything like what it used to mean. No, sir we are not good men. But we are men. They’ll have to whip us. We won’t do it for them by quitting.”
They call themselves the First Kansas Irregulars, which is an apt designation given the fact that they are a bunch of feral young men turned loose on the countryside in search of mayhem more than fighting for a cause. They are men from Kansas and Missouri who choose not to head South to join the Confederacy but to stay close to home to bring the fight to the Yankee soldiers and civilians. This is a time in the territories when long standing feuds can be ended by accusing your enemies of being Seceshs (secessionists) if you are talking to Union troops or calling them Yankee sympathizers if you are talking to the Bushwhackers who are loosely tied to the Confederate cause.
No one can remain neutral.
The Jayhawkers, based out of Lawrence, Kansas, are the most hated of the Union supporters. ”Jayhawkers said they raided to free slaves, but mostly they freed horseflesh from riders, furniture from houses, cattle from pastures, precious jewelry from family troves and wives from husbands. Sometimes they had so much plunder n***ers were needed to haul it, so they took a few along. This, they said, made them abolitionists.”
As I am reading this book, I can’t help but be reminded of the political discourse happening today. With families being split along political lines instead of blood lines. Facebook unfriending has provided a new battlefront to show our disapproval of one another. Like the Bushwhackers and the Jayhawkers, we want to believe the very worst about each other so that we can be more firmly entrenched in our beliefs and feel safer among our own perceived kind. I’ve seen some ugly things said on social media that go well beyond the issue at hand that must stem from a core belief in the basic inhumanity of those who oppose them. ”Is it possible for a man to retain his humanity in an inhuman time, and if not, at least to regain that humanity after a war ends?”
The Civil War was a scary time, and it feels like we live in another political age that may pit brother against brother. Let us hope that rhetoric will be the extent of it, but as we all know, despite the adage “that words will never hurt us,” we are very aware that they do. Words are powerful and sometimes, when struck with enough force, become unforgettable. We need a uniter in this age of the divider.
Our protagonist is Jake “Dutchy” Roedel. As you might guess from his nickname, he is of Dutch heritage. He is as committed to the cause as his American born neighbor and best friend, Jack Bull Chiles. Unfortunately, the rest of the Irregulars, because the Dutch mostly support the Union, have a difficult time accepting him as one of them. It probably doesn’t help that he is better education than the rest of them with a fine hand for writing and the ability to read, as well as being a school teacher. When they capture a sack full of Union letters, he becomes the center of huddled masses of men as they ask him to read those letters to them. It is somewhat confusing for them to find out that people up North have the same concerns and fears as those in the South. They are merely human beings like they are, trying to make their way the best way they know how through difficult times. It is a poignant moment in the book, and in the film as well, to see the yearning for civilisation in the faces of all those young men who are really just feral boys with a need to return to the responsibilities of hearth, family, and home.
”I could well believe that the Cause had been set loose in the lust for loot.”
When you read this book, you will get to know Coleman Younger, Pitt Mackeson, Black Jake Ambrose, Turner Rawls, Cave Wyatt, George Clyde, and his black friend Daniel Holt. You will even get to meet the infamous William Quantrill, who will lead these men in a famous and deadly raid against Lawrence, Kansas, inspiring the epitaph Bleeding Kansas as a reference to this point in history.
The writing is lyrical and real. I feel like I am squatting down around a campfire with these men, listening to their grunts, farts, and their jaws working on a cud of tobacco. The movie based on this book is called Riding With the Devil and is directed by Ang Lee. The gun battle scenes are chaotic and so real I can feel my heart rate start to speed up. It is easy to see how someone might end up shooting their best friend or even brother by mistake. Woodrell helped with the film script, and much of his dialogue from the book is lifted word for word to the silver screen. The cast is full of names you will recognize, such as Tobey Maquire, Jim Caviezel, Jewel, Skeet Ulrich, Jonathan Rhys Meyers, Jeffrey Wright, Simon Baker, and Mark Ruffalo.
One of my favorite classes when I was at university was one on film and literature where we were assigned a book and then watched the film that was based on the book. The discussions inspired were some of the best that I experienced the whole time I was at the University of Arizona. What did we like about the book better than the film? What did we like about the film better than the book? Did we agree with the casting? Was that who you saw playing that role? What was missing from the film that you felt should have been included? I always felt like I had a deeper understanding of the work after experiencing the writing and the celluloid interpretations. I have a lot of fond memories of that class, so whenever I can, I stick to that format by reading the book and watching the film soon after. I have films DVRed from years ago waiting for the opportunity to eventually be paired with the book that inspired them.
One of my favorite nothing scenes from the movie is when the Bushwhackers are all on horseback outside of Lawrence, and there is a gunshot, and all the horses shy at the same time. It is like watching a ripple of wind move through a field of ripe wheat. It is beautiful. A second and a half of film and I will never forget it. If the book or the movie fall short of being masterpieces, the two of them together will get them there.
If you wish to see more of my most recent book and movie reviews, visit http://www.jeffreykeeten.com
I also have a Facebook blogger page at: https://www.facebook.com/JeffreyKeeten
They call themselves the First Kansas Irregulars, which is an apt designation given the fact that they are a bunch of feral young men turned loose on the countryside in search of mayhem more than fighting for a cause. They are men from Kansas and Missouri who choose not to head South to join the Confederacy but to stay close to home to bring the fight to the Yankee soldiers and civilians. This is a time in the territories when long standing feuds can be ended by accusing your enemies of being Seceshs (secessionists) if you are talking to Union troops or calling them Yankee sympathizers if you are talking to the Bushwhackers who are loosely tied to the Confederate cause.
No one can remain neutral.
The Jayhawkers, based out of Lawrence, Kansas, are the most hated of the Union supporters. ”Jayhawkers said they raided to free slaves, but mostly they freed horseflesh from riders, furniture from houses, cattle from pastures, precious jewelry from family troves and wives from husbands. Sometimes they had so much plunder n***ers were needed to haul it, so they took a few along. This, they said, made them abolitionists.”
As I am reading this book, I can’t help but be reminded of the political discourse happening today. With families being split along political lines instead of blood lines. Facebook unfriending has provided a new battlefront to show our disapproval of one another. Like the Bushwhackers and the Jayhawkers, we want to believe the very worst about each other so that we can be more firmly entrenched in our beliefs and feel safer among our own perceived kind. I’ve seen some ugly things said on social media that go well beyond the issue at hand that must stem from a core belief in the basic inhumanity of those who oppose them. ”Is it possible for a man to retain his humanity in an inhuman time, and if not, at least to regain that humanity after a war ends?”
The Civil War was a scary time, and it feels like we live in another political age that may pit brother against brother. Let us hope that rhetoric will be the extent of it, but as we all know, despite the adage “that words will never hurt us,” we are very aware that they do. Words are powerful and sometimes, when struck with enough force, become unforgettable. We need a uniter in this age of the divider.
Our protagonist is Jake “Dutchy” Roedel. As you might guess from his nickname, he is of Dutch heritage. He is as committed to the cause as his American born neighbor and best friend, Jack Bull Chiles. Unfortunately, the rest of the Irregulars, because the Dutch mostly support the Union, have a difficult time accepting him as one of them. It probably doesn’t help that he is better education than the rest of them with a fine hand for writing and the ability to read, as well as being a school teacher. When they capture a sack full of Union letters, he becomes the center of huddled masses of men as they ask him to read those letters to them. It is somewhat confusing for them to find out that people up North have the same concerns and fears as those in the South. They are merely human beings like they are, trying to make their way the best way they know how through difficult times. It is a poignant moment in the book, and in the film as well, to see the yearning for civilisation in the faces of all those young men who are really just feral boys with a need to return to the responsibilities of hearth, family, and home.
”I could well believe that the Cause had been set loose in the lust for loot.”
When you read this book, you will get to know Coleman Younger, Pitt Mackeson, Black Jake Ambrose, Turner Rawls, Cave Wyatt, George Clyde, and his black friend Daniel Holt. You will even get to meet the infamous William Quantrill, who will lead these men in a famous and deadly raid against Lawrence, Kansas, inspiring the epitaph Bleeding Kansas as a reference to this point in history.
The writing is lyrical and real. I feel like I am squatting down around a campfire with these men, listening to their grunts, farts, and their jaws working on a cud of tobacco. The movie based on this book is called Riding With the Devil and is directed by Ang Lee. The gun battle scenes are chaotic and so real I can feel my heart rate start to speed up. It is easy to see how someone might end up shooting their best friend or even brother by mistake. Woodrell helped with the film script, and much of his dialogue from the book is lifted word for word to the silver screen. The cast is full of names you will recognize, such as Tobey Maquire, Jim Caviezel, Jewel, Skeet Ulrich, Jonathan Rhys Meyers, Jeffrey Wright, Simon Baker, and Mark Ruffalo.
One of my favorite classes when I was at university was one on film and literature where we were assigned a book and then watched the film that was based on the book. The discussions inspired were some of the best that I experienced the whole time I was at the University of Arizona. What did we like about the book better than the film? What did we like about the film better than the book? Did we agree with the casting? Was that who you saw playing that role? What was missing from the film that you felt should have been included? I always felt like I had a deeper understanding of the work after experiencing the writing and the celluloid interpretations. I have a lot of fond memories of that class, so whenever I can, I stick to that format by reading the book and watching the film soon after. I have films DVRed from years ago waiting for the opportunity to eventually be paired with the book that inspired them.
One of my favorite nothing scenes from the movie is when the Bushwhackers are all on horseback outside of Lawrence, and there is a gunshot, and all the horses shy at the same time. It is like watching a ripple of wind move through a field of ripe wheat. It is beautiful. A second and a half of film and I will never forget it. If the book or the movie fall short of being masterpieces, the two of them together will get them there.
If you wish to see more of my most recent book and movie reviews, visit http://www.jeffreykeeten.com
I also have a Facebook blogger page at: https://www.facebook.com/JeffreyKeeten
May 30, 2017
It's the mid-1860's in Missouri where the Bushwhackers are riding roughshod over Union sympathizers, fence sitters, and Jayhawkers. These miscreants and thugs are burning and plundering, their rebel yells ringing out, leaving a trail of blood and misery in their wake.
Harsh and unforgiving, this tale still manages to carry a cadence in the text that is mesmerizing. Weather that is apt to turn surly, 'sadness on the flourish'. 'It was way down there past terrible.' See the porcine woman whose 'chin had several extras hanging below it.' Cringe at the noisy honking bray of a Yankee militia man.
Lines of morality are crossed that will change lives forever. If your gut can take it, treat yourself to this lesser known novel of Daniel Woodrell. It's a pistol.
Harsh and unforgiving, this tale still manages to carry a cadence in the text that is mesmerizing. Weather that is apt to turn surly, 'sadness on the flourish'. 'It was way down there past terrible.' See the porcine woman whose 'chin had several extras hanging below it.' Cringe at the noisy honking bray of a Yankee militia man.
Lines of morality are crossed that will change lives forever. If your gut can take it, treat yourself to this lesser known novel of Daniel Woodrell. It's a pistol.
March 1, 2022
Twenty-odd years ago I saw the Ang Lee film Ride with the Devil, which I thought was absolutely superb. I hadn’t realised until recently that the film was based on this Daniel Woodrell novel. Once I did discover that, I simply had to read the source book. As it happens it’s one of those cases where the film follows the book closely. That did detract from my reading experience in the sense it removed the tension from the novel, but not my appreciation of its quality.
The story is set in Missouri during the American Civil War and the lead character is one of the “Bushwhackers”- pro-Confederate irregulars. Missouri was a slave-owning state but opinion was very divided in terms of those for the Confederacy or for the Union. During the war the State had rival governments and fought its own civil war within the wider conflict.
The story is told from the perspective of Jake Roedel, a German-American, referred to, along with all Germans, as a “Dutchman” (presumably this practice was derived from the word Deutsch). His situation was highly unusual as the German-Americans were solidly pro-union, and in the novel are targeted by the Bushwhackers. Another leading character is Daniel Holt, a black man also fighting with the Bushwhackers. Free black men are also their targets and as Jake puts it, black Union soldiers “raised extra frenzy in the boys.” Both Roedel and Holt are therefore involved in targeted atrocities against their own ethnic groups. They are outsiders in every sense, and as the situation worsens for the Confederacy they are regarded with increasing hostility by their own comrades. Jake’s motivations and conflicted loyalties are a big part of the book. His ethnicity means he has to act with particular brutality to prove himself to his comrades, but he has a buried decency that means his choices do not sit well with him. It’s basically a “coming of age” novel, but with lots of additional themes.
There aren’t really any “good guys” in this book. The Buswhackers mercilessly slaughter unarmed civilians of the opposite persuasion, often in deliberately brutal ways. It says something of Woodrell’s skill as a writer that I end up caring about what happens to Roedel and Holt (though not really about the rest of their gang). The “federals” behave in the same way, though both sides adhere to a code that women and young children must not be directly harmed. Boys older than about 12 are considered “old enough”. I don’t know enough about history to know how accurate this is, but I suspect Woodrell has carefully researched the period. The cover of the edition I read has a quote from Dee Brown about how the period dialogue is “exactly right”. Again, I couldn’t say, but I loved it.
This won’t be for everyone, but I think Woodrell has created a supremely vivid novel, and Jake is a great creation as its main character.
The story is set in Missouri during the American Civil War and the lead character is one of the “Bushwhackers”- pro-Confederate irregulars. Missouri was a slave-owning state but opinion was very divided in terms of those for the Confederacy or for the Union. During the war the State had rival governments and fought its own civil war within the wider conflict.
The story is told from the perspective of Jake Roedel, a German-American, referred to, along with all Germans, as a “Dutchman” (presumably this practice was derived from the word Deutsch). His situation was highly unusual as the German-Americans were solidly pro-union, and in the novel are targeted by the Bushwhackers. Another leading character is Daniel Holt, a black man also fighting with the Bushwhackers. Free black men are also their targets and as Jake puts it, black Union soldiers “raised extra frenzy in the boys.” Both Roedel and Holt are therefore involved in targeted atrocities against their own ethnic groups. They are outsiders in every sense, and as the situation worsens for the Confederacy they are regarded with increasing hostility by their own comrades. Jake’s motivations and conflicted loyalties are a big part of the book. His ethnicity means he has to act with particular brutality to prove himself to his comrades, but he has a buried decency that means his choices do not sit well with him. It’s basically a “coming of age” novel, but with lots of additional themes.
There aren’t really any “good guys” in this book. The Buswhackers mercilessly slaughter unarmed civilians of the opposite persuasion, often in deliberately brutal ways. It says something of Woodrell’s skill as a writer that I end up caring about what happens to Roedel and Holt (though not really about the rest of their gang). The “federals” behave in the same way, though both sides adhere to a code that women and young children must not be directly harmed. Boys older than about 12 are considered “old enough”. I don’t know enough about history to know how accurate this is, but I suspect Woodrell has carefully researched the period. The cover of the edition I read has a quote from Dee Brown about how the period dialogue is “exactly right”. Again, I couldn’t say, but I loved it.
This won’t be for everyone, but I think Woodrell has created a supremely vivid novel, and Jake is a great creation as its main character.
May 31, 2017
Just awesome. Civil war fiction with an authenticity of voice, the deep desolation of war, and the loss of comrades in arms that make this one powerful work of art. Woodrell is lyrical, violent in scenes that are historically accurate and inspires us with hope for a teenage boy who has taken more lives than years he has even yet lived.
When the boy attempts to tie a tourniquet to save the life of his best friend, Jack Bull - someone he considers his brother, we read: "The knot on the rope was not enough of a bind, and loosened to leak Jack Bull Chiles. My world bled to death. I couldn’t get the cut burned closed. It was too moist. The smell was a horrible fact… I guess I wept. I guess we all wept. Even Holt wept. It’s a useless reaction. No comfort at all."
The one-liners add to the feel for the young man, surrounded by war and caught up with a band of killers: "You taught him mercy but he didn't learn the lesson" or "I felt as useful as a Christian impulse at an ambush," and “So much death and no coffee to be had.”
Woodrell fires an excellent story based on real characters, including Quantrill's Raiders and the black confederate who rode with them. Five stars.
When the boy attempts to tie a tourniquet to save the life of his best friend, Jack Bull - someone he considers his brother, we read: "The knot on the rope was not enough of a bind, and loosened to leak Jack Bull Chiles. My world bled to death. I couldn’t get the cut burned closed. It was too moist. The smell was a horrible fact… I guess I wept. I guess we all wept. Even Holt wept. It’s a useless reaction. No comfort at all."
The one-liners add to the feel for the young man, surrounded by war and caught up with a band of killers: "You taught him mercy but he didn't learn the lesson" or "I felt as useful as a Christian impulse at an ambush," and “So much death and no coffee to be had.”
Woodrell fires an excellent story based on real characters, including Quantrill's Raiders and the black confederate who rode with them. Five stars.
April 5, 2013
This is another very good novel from Daniel Woodrell, author of Winter's Bone, set on the contentious border between Kansas and Missouri during the American Civil War. While Union and Confederate armies fight traditional battles farther east, in this no-man's land, "Bushwhackers" and "Jayhawkers" fight a dirty guerilla war where there are no rules and in which little quarter is asked and none given.
The main protagonist is the narrator, German-American Jake Roedel, who's riding with a loose coalition of Missouri Bushwhackers. Jake is committed to the cause of repelling the hated Yankees and their Jayhawker allies, not so much because he buys into the larger issues that caused the war, but rather because of the crimes committed against his own family and neighbors who are trapped on the border between the competing North and South.
Woodrell offers no romantic visions of war. This is a hard-scrabble story of men bonding with each other in a common cause and taking no prisoners on the way. It's violent and bloody, and it seems that no one who lives in the area can avoid getting caught up in the bloodletting.
As time passes, though, it seems that some of Jake's comrades lose sight of the cause which initially bound them together. Killing and looting become ends in and of themselves; men become dehumanized, and Jake has to decide whether to continue down this road or to take a different path.
Like all of Daniel Woodrell's books, this is beautifully written and the characters jump off the page. It's a very interesting meditation of the nature of war and of the bonds that hold people together or sometimes drive them apart.
The main protagonist is the narrator, German-American Jake Roedel, who's riding with a loose coalition of Missouri Bushwhackers. Jake is committed to the cause of repelling the hated Yankees and their Jayhawker allies, not so much because he buys into the larger issues that caused the war, but rather because of the crimes committed against his own family and neighbors who are trapped on the border between the competing North and South.
Woodrell offers no romantic visions of war. This is a hard-scrabble story of men bonding with each other in a common cause and taking no prisoners on the way. It's violent and bloody, and it seems that no one who lives in the area can avoid getting caught up in the bloodletting.
As time passes, though, it seems that some of Jake's comrades lose sight of the cause which initially bound them together. Killing and looting become ends in and of themselves; men become dehumanized, and Jake has to decide whether to continue down this road or to take a different path.
Like all of Daniel Woodrell's books, this is beautifully written and the characters jump off the page. It's a very interesting meditation of the nature of war and of the bonds that hold people together or sometimes drive them apart.
April 25, 2015
A powerful coming of age story that dances between the bloody chaos of guerilla war and lively, resilient spirit of a young man with true grit. The scene is rural southern Missouri in the American Civil War, which experienced a terrible anarchy as a slave-holding state unable to commit as a state to either side. The pro-Confederacy guerillas known as Bushwackers try to outdo the terrorist campaigns of the Jayhawkers marauding from their bases in Kansas. Every outrage perpetrated by one side motivates the next cruel action by the other. We jump right in with Jake Roedel participating in hangings and executions of pro-Union civilians with a cold demeanor. He is successfully proving himself as a capable fighter among men. When a teenaged boy tries to cut down his father they have hanged, Jake shoots him in the back and puts forth this bravado:
My face was profound, I hoped, when I faced Black John.
”Pups make hounds,” I said. “And there are hounds enough.”
But a spark of morality begins to grow with his repugnance over unnecessary torture and selfish pillaging and robberies that go along with these raids. His crossing one of their leaders, Pitt Mackeson, makes an enemy he must contend with throughout the book. Jake’s best friend from childhood, Jack Bull Chiles, notes that Mackeson is “dumb and mean and snaky”, but:
“You must admit he is a good Yankee-killer.”
“He is a good killer, Jack Bull. And this season he kills Yankees.”
“Comrades can be made of less,” he responded. “Keep it in mind.”
I had many comrades who were made of nothing but the same. I saw the truth of it and would not squawk that they were not made of more.
We fan that spark with him until a turning point during the infamous Lawrence Massacre of 1864, in which Quantrill led about 400 in an attack on that undefended Kansas town, killing 150-200 and burning it to the ground. Loyalty to true friends comes to guide Jake’s choices more definitively. Ironically, his partner by this time is a laconic and deadly ex-slave named Holt. Eventually, a chance at love plants a seed for his becoming a real man. Early on we get this taste of Jake’s state of complete ignorance on this subject:
It stymied me. I just didn’t understand how it worked between a man and a woman. There was just so much mystery involved. I hoped there could be a way around it.
The process of Jake’s becoming human parallels his finding a voice and an ability lead others. Already in his second book (published in 1987), Woodrell to me displays masterful skills in dialog and the internal monologue of this first-person story. He is also wonderful in narrative pacing and in his understated presentation of dramatic tension. He is adept at “showing not telling”. We actually don’t get a sense of what set Jake on the path of breaking bad until the middle of the book, at a point when he and Jake are holed up at a farm of a family friend named Evans. They explain how the blurring of good and bad began when Jack Bull’s father was murdered by a Federal officer and they took retribution together :
“Jake and me”—Jack Bull stopped and looked my way—“there is always Jake with me—went for him on our own hook. … Captain Warren came in for vittles and got served a bitter dish. His world went sour on him. We killed him. We killed him several times, eh, Jake?”
“That’s right,” I said. “There was no chance left in it.”
“It was our first real fight. Everything got changed by it.”
“You took to the bush,” Evans said. “All the good men are in the bush now.”
“Those are words that have went south forever,” Jack Bull said. “’Good’ doesn’t mean anything like what it used to mean. No, sir, we are not good men. But we are men. They’ll have to whip us. We won’t do it for them by quitting.”
As with Woodrell’s fabulous “Winter’s Bone”, my reading of this story now has me interested in seeing the movie based on this book, Ang Lee’s “Ride with the Devil” (1999). It stars a young Tobey Mcguire and the singer Jewel as the love interest, Sue. Aside from that I am hungry to read more of Woodrell’s books.
My face was profound, I hoped, when I faced Black John.
”Pups make hounds,” I said. “And there are hounds enough.”
But a spark of morality begins to grow with his repugnance over unnecessary torture and selfish pillaging and robberies that go along with these raids. His crossing one of their leaders, Pitt Mackeson, makes an enemy he must contend with throughout the book. Jake’s best friend from childhood, Jack Bull Chiles, notes that Mackeson is “dumb and mean and snaky”, but:
“You must admit he is a good Yankee-killer.”
“He is a good killer, Jack Bull. And this season he kills Yankees.”
“Comrades can be made of less,” he responded. “Keep it in mind.”
I had many comrades who were made of nothing but the same. I saw the truth of it and would not squawk that they were not made of more.
We fan that spark with him until a turning point during the infamous Lawrence Massacre of 1864, in which Quantrill led about 400 in an attack on that undefended Kansas town, killing 150-200 and burning it to the ground. Loyalty to true friends comes to guide Jake’s choices more definitively. Ironically, his partner by this time is a laconic and deadly ex-slave named Holt. Eventually, a chance at love plants a seed for his becoming a real man. Early on we get this taste of Jake’s state of complete ignorance on this subject:
It stymied me. I just didn’t understand how it worked between a man and a woman. There was just so much mystery involved. I hoped there could be a way around it.
The process of Jake’s becoming human parallels his finding a voice and an ability lead others. Already in his second book (published in 1987), Woodrell to me displays masterful skills in dialog and the internal monologue of this first-person story. He is also wonderful in narrative pacing and in his understated presentation of dramatic tension. He is adept at “showing not telling”. We actually don’t get a sense of what set Jake on the path of breaking bad until the middle of the book, at a point when he and Jake are holed up at a farm of a family friend named Evans. They explain how the blurring of good and bad began when Jack Bull’s father was murdered by a Federal officer and they took retribution together :
“Jake and me”—Jack Bull stopped and looked my way—“there is always Jake with me—went for him on our own hook. … Captain Warren came in for vittles and got served a bitter dish. His world went sour on him. We killed him. We killed him several times, eh, Jake?”
“That’s right,” I said. “There was no chance left in it.”
“It was our first real fight. Everything got changed by it.”
“You took to the bush,” Evans said. “All the good men are in the bush now.”
“Those are words that have went south forever,” Jack Bull said. “’Good’ doesn’t mean anything like what it used to mean. No, sir, we are not good men. But we are men. They’ll have to whip us. We won’t do it for them by quitting.”
As with Woodrell’s fabulous “Winter’s Bone”, my reading of this story now has me interested in seeing the movie based on this book, Ang Lee’s “Ride with the Devil” (1999). It stars a young Tobey Mcguire and the singer Jewel as the love interest, Sue. Aside from that I am hungry to read more of Woodrell’s books.
September 24, 2022
4.5 stars.....this is one of Woodrell's best. Inhumane characteristics are on display but at the same time Woodrell shows the more sensitive side to his main character. It's so well done and clever how he presents this gang of hoodlums.
April 10, 2025
I ended up loving this book a lot more than I thought I would, as evidenced by my 5 stars. I love Woodrell, so knew it would be good, but I wasn't really in the mood for the violence this book promised. I did want to join in the group read of On The Southern Literary Trail this month and I already had the book downloaded, so thought this might be the time to get it read.
Yes, there's a lot of violence as it's the story of 19 year old Jake Roedel whose parents immigrated from Germany to Missouri. He was born in the U.S., but was nicknamed Duchy. He became a member of a Confederate Bushwhacker group because he wanted to kill Yankees, but didn't want to join the army as he didn't like following rules.
Jake's voice as narrator won me over. He seemed to be smarter that a lot of the men, could read, wrote a pretty hand and could come up with solutions to problems that others couldn't see. His transformation from a violent young man to one who can see a civilized future after the war was remarkable. There are other wonderful characters in this short novel, but I could have filled every page with highlights on Jake's thoughts alone.
I haven't mentioned the humor yet. This is a funny book, mostly because even though Jake has no problem killing his enemies, he's really an innocent, naive, sweet guy who's a great friend when the chips are down. He also learns that black men are human, women can be more than mothers and that babies are sweet little miracles.
Another Daniel Woodrell winner.
Yes, there's a lot of violence as it's the story of 19 year old Jake Roedel whose parents immigrated from Germany to Missouri. He was born in the U.S., but was nicknamed Duchy. He became a member of a Confederate Bushwhacker group because he wanted to kill Yankees, but didn't want to join the army as he didn't like following rules.
Jake's voice as narrator won me over. He seemed to be smarter that a lot of the men, could read, wrote a pretty hand and could come up with solutions to problems that others couldn't see. His transformation from a violent young man to one who can see a civilized future after the war was remarkable. There are other wonderful characters in this short novel, but I could have filled every page with highlights on Jake's thoughts alone.
I haven't mentioned the humor yet. This is a funny book, mostly because even though Jake has no problem killing his enemies, he's really an innocent, naive, sweet guy who's a great friend when the chips are down. He also learns that black men are human, women can be more than mothers and that babies are sweet little miracles.
Another Daniel Woodrell winner.
April 4, 2025
Nowhere was the Civil War more bloody or less civilized than on the Missouri-Kansas border. Known as Bleeding Kansas or Bloody Kansas, the border sported not just Union troops but marauding gangs of free-state guerrillas called Jayhawkers and the opposing pro-slavery savagery of Confederates like William Quantrill’s bushwhackers. While the fighting was bloody everywhere, the killing in this area was totally indiscriminate and civilians were subject to be violated, tortured and murdered by one gang or another for even a perception of a leaning or for having a family member or close friend in either of the militias.
Daniel Woodrell has painted in this novel a brutally honest and vivid picture of the atrocities this conflict entailed, the lawlessness of the fighting, and the senselessness of the wholesale death it left in its wake. This is not a romantic view of war, this is war in all its ugliness. These are men, most of them really boys, who have hardened their souls and their minds to endure the times and have evolved into some version of monster that you wish you could say you do not understand. But that is the easy, arm-chair view. If you put yourself in their place and consider the moment in history they are facing, you might find you understand more of what they do than you feel comfortable admitting.
Our narrator, Jacob (Jake) Roedel, abhors much of what he does, although he still takes a kind of delight in the part he deems “necessary” that makes you want to cry for his calloused nature. He is running with a group of men who would turn their guns on him as happily as the enemy if they sensed any disloyalty or disbelief in the “cause”. But, these same men are his brothers and companions, and he mourns them when they fall and avenges them with gusto.
A year earlier this would have sickened me beyond consolation for days. But we were hardened youths by that point. Warfare was what we knew. Though we were mostly still boys by civil calculations, we had by now roughed up the swami and slept where the elephant shits. Shocking us would have required some genius.
When Jake’s better nature prevails, the cost is high and the lesson is a sorry one:
“I might as well have shot him myself,” I said. “Mercy has treachery in it. I need to forget I know of it. I’ll put it aside. I am not too brilliant with it.”
“That may be the answer,” Jack Bull said.
It is frightening to think how many of the men who actually died here were, like Jake, only nineteen. There are poignant moments when Jake’s youthfulness is obvious, and yet he has dealt with horrors and murders on a level that is incomprehensible and it makes him seem old before his time. Woodrell gets this just right.
One cannot help pondering the future of these men, all of them, but particularly Jake and Holt, the one black man who travels with the group, because they are outsiders who will have obstacles even when the war is done. That anyone survived this conflict is a miracle. Not many from this area could have done so unscathed.
Before you step into this world, gird your loins; this is not an easy tale to read, because it was not an easy life to lead. There was nothing pretty about the war, the loss of young lives that had barely started, the evidence of how cruel men can be, one to the other. Can a man change from being this bloody and uncaring to ever being normal and trusting again?
My hat is off to Daniel Woodrell. I had only read one other novel by Woodrell before this one, The Death of Sweet Mister, and it was equally raw, and equally superb. My first encounter with him was through the movies when I saw the film version of Winter's Bone. I suspect all his work is gritty in just the right, realistic way. I have marked all of his books on the TBR and hope it will not take me so long to get to the next one. Writers of his ilk are few and far between.
Daniel Woodrell has painted in this novel a brutally honest and vivid picture of the atrocities this conflict entailed, the lawlessness of the fighting, and the senselessness of the wholesale death it left in its wake. This is not a romantic view of war, this is war in all its ugliness. These are men, most of them really boys, who have hardened their souls and their minds to endure the times and have evolved into some version of monster that you wish you could say you do not understand. But that is the easy, arm-chair view. If you put yourself in their place and consider the moment in history they are facing, you might find you understand more of what they do than you feel comfortable admitting.
Our narrator, Jacob (Jake) Roedel, abhors much of what he does, although he still takes a kind of delight in the part he deems “necessary” that makes you want to cry for his calloused nature. He is running with a group of men who would turn their guns on him as happily as the enemy if they sensed any disloyalty or disbelief in the “cause”. But, these same men are his brothers and companions, and he mourns them when they fall and avenges them with gusto.
A year earlier this would have sickened me beyond consolation for days. But we were hardened youths by that point. Warfare was what we knew. Though we were mostly still boys by civil calculations, we had by now roughed up the swami and slept where the elephant shits. Shocking us would have required some genius.
When Jake’s better nature prevails, the cost is high and the lesson is a sorry one:
“I might as well have shot him myself,” I said. “Mercy has treachery in it. I need to forget I know of it. I’ll put it aside. I am not too brilliant with it.”
“That may be the answer,” Jack Bull said.
It is frightening to think how many of the men who actually died here were, like Jake, only nineteen. There are poignant moments when Jake’s youthfulness is obvious, and yet he has dealt with horrors and murders on a level that is incomprehensible and it makes him seem old before his time. Woodrell gets this just right.
One cannot help pondering the future of these men, all of them, but particularly Jake and Holt, the one black man who travels with the group, because they are outsiders who will have obstacles even when the war is done. That anyone survived this conflict is a miracle. Not many from this area could have done so unscathed.
Before you step into this world, gird your loins; this is not an easy tale to read, because it was not an easy life to lead. There was nothing pretty about the war, the loss of young lives that had barely started, the evidence of how cruel men can be, one to the other. Can a man change from being this bloody and uncaring to ever being normal and trusting again?
My hat is off to Daniel Woodrell. I had only read one other novel by Woodrell before this one, The Death of Sweet Mister, and it was equally raw, and equally superb. My first encounter with him was through the movies when I saw the film version of Winter's Bone. I suspect all his work is gritty in just the right, realistic way. I have marked all of his books on the TBR and hope it will not take me so long to get to the next one. Writers of his ilk are few and far between.
December 20, 2017
Woe to Live On by Daniel Woodrell follows Jake Roedel, a young, Confederate-leaning southerner, as he rides across the south in the early 1860's with a band of men as they pillage, rob and attack those with Northern leanings and those felt to have attacked the southern culture and way of life. Roedel desires to avoid fighting alongside the Confederate army due to the perception of too many rules and regulations, while a member of a band of men hellbent on destruction and carnage across the south.
These characters are not sympathetic, nor are they written so, nor do I think, meant to be. The book is a violent book with racial language that may be offensive to some readers.
The writing is seamless and while reading, it reads as if Daniel Woodrell wrote this novel straight through. The way Woodrell strings to together words to tell his stories cannot be aptly described. When it comes to the descriptive ability of a writer, Daniel Woodrell is one of the best. Like William Gay, Woodrell has such an excellent skill to create lush and colorful mental imagery with his selection and usage of words.
Highly recommended, especially for those that enjoyed the recent novel If The Creek Don't Rise by Leah Weiss.
These characters are not sympathetic, nor are they written so, nor do I think, meant to be. The book is a violent book with racial language that may be offensive to some readers.
The writing is seamless and while reading, it reads as if Daniel Woodrell wrote this novel straight through. The way Woodrell strings to together words to tell his stories cannot be aptly described. When it comes to the descriptive ability of a writer, Daniel Woodrell is one of the best. Like William Gay, Woodrell has such an excellent skill to create lush and colorful mental imagery with his selection and usage of words.
Highly recommended, especially for those that enjoyed the recent novel If The Creek Don't Rise by Leah Weiss.
October 2, 2010
Huck Finn in Hell. The influence of both Twain and Cormac McCarthy are fairly clear to see in Daniel Woodrell's Ride with Devil (or Woe to Live on). The sheer carnage reminds one of McCarthy's Outer Dark and Blood Meridian. But there's more. Ride With the Devil is also a coming of age novel telling the story of Jake Roedel, a young Bushwhacker (and immigrant's son), who has not known a woman, but who has killed 15 men.
In Woodrell's hands, Jake is a complex mix of child and killer. He has been hardened by a war that, in the contested border areas of Missouri & Kansas, was as murderous as modern day Bosnia. Robbery, murder, torture, in an eye for an eye conflict, was the coin of the day. Nevertheless, the reader senses the human Jake trying to peek out from beyond the hardened callus. Sometimes it's a moment of tragically misplaced pity for a northern militia acquaintance, or his growing interest in a woman, the widow Sue Lee, of his "near" brother Jack Bull. And then there's the growing friendship with Holt, a freed slave who has been riding with the bushwhackers. A common ground gradually develops between the despised immigrant's son, and the mistrusted black man, as they see the South fall apart due to invasion. Interestingly, Woodrell is able to show both characters growing dissatisfaction for the Southern cause, as it's increasingly being fought (the raid on Lawrence being a point of true descent), while at the same time retaining their hate for Northerners who seek to impose, through invasion, new unjust rules for the old. A subtle truth that historians still can't seem to get right, but which acquires an awful plausibility in the half-boy, half-man voice of Roedel. This is fine novel that should be probably be viewed beyond the genre of a western. Certainly, the romance in the novel is of a truer nature, given it is a time of war, than the high romantic one in Cold Mountain (which I liked). Ride With the Devil can sit quite comfortably beside that Frazier's fine novel. It has its own grim, but ultimately hopeful truths, to pass on.
In Woodrell's hands, Jake is a complex mix of child and killer. He has been hardened by a war that, in the contested border areas of Missouri & Kansas, was as murderous as modern day Bosnia. Robbery, murder, torture, in an eye for an eye conflict, was the coin of the day. Nevertheless, the reader senses the human Jake trying to peek out from beyond the hardened callus. Sometimes it's a moment of tragically misplaced pity for a northern militia acquaintance, or his growing interest in a woman, the widow Sue Lee, of his "near" brother Jack Bull. And then there's the growing friendship with Holt, a freed slave who has been riding with the bushwhackers. A common ground gradually develops between the despised immigrant's son, and the mistrusted black man, as they see the South fall apart due to invasion. Interestingly, Woodrell is able to show both characters growing dissatisfaction for the Southern cause, as it's increasingly being fought (the raid on Lawrence being a point of true descent), while at the same time retaining their hate for Northerners who seek to impose, through invasion, new unjust rules for the old. A subtle truth that historians still can't seem to get right, but which acquires an awful plausibility in the half-boy, half-man voice of Roedel. This is fine novel that should be probably be viewed beyond the genre of a western. Certainly, the romance in the novel is of a truer nature, given it is a time of war, than the high romantic one in Cold Mountain (which I liked). Ride With the Devil can sit quite comfortably beside that Frazier's fine novel. It has its own grim, but ultimately hopeful truths, to pass on.
April 13, 2025
Not going to lie, this is a difficult, brutal read set during the American Civil War which never is a time period that lends itself to any other circumstances. The first chapter sets the tone of the book right away when a group of Bushwhackers execute an entire immigrant family for being sympathetic to the Union.
We follow a group of men along the Missouri/Kansas border where unrest and upheaval abound. Tension between Bushwhackers and Jayhawkers reveal questions regarding right, wrong, loyalty, betrayal. One actually can’t even see a line to cross as it’s very blurred at this point. It’s difficult to imagine trying to survive in a situation where lawlessness and violence seem to be the majority rule. There doesn’t seem to be a place for neutrality and who knows where the moral compass has gone?
This is also a story of friendship as we ride along with a young man named Jake Roedel and his long-time friend Jack Bull Chiles who have gotten caught up in the whirlwind of chaos. I enjoyed how Woodrell expertly shows the growth and change in these men as they try to get through the muck and mire of what is their life now. We go through their interior struggles and fears with them, feeling their pains and sorrows and losses. The prose is so stunning yet gritty, abrasive, and unyielding – it won’t let you go.
We follow a group of men along the Missouri/Kansas border where unrest and upheaval abound. Tension between Bushwhackers and Jayhawkers reveal questions regarding right, wrong, loyalty, betrayal. One actually can’t even see a line to cross as it’s very blurred at this point. It’s difficult to imagine trying to survive in a situation where lawlessness and violence seem to be the majority rule. There doesn’t seem to be a place for neutrality and who knows where the moral compass has gone?
This is also a story of friendship as we ride along with a young man named Jake Roedel and his long-time friend Jack Bull Chiles who have gotten caught up in the whirlwind of chaos. I enjoyed how Woodrell expertly shows the growth and change in these men as they try to get through the muck and mire of what is their life now. We go through their interior struggles and fears with them, feeling their pains and sorrows and losses. The prose is so stunning yet gritty, abrasive, and unyielding – it won’t let you go.
January 22, 2010
My first taste of Woodrell He seems to mainly write in his own invented genre of “country noir” This book also deals with crime and violence but is a coming of age story and a war story dealing with the conflicts on the border of the Civil War. Thankfully this coming of age story (something I really don’t seek out) is more in the lines of Mark Twain and especially Cormac McCarthy of Blood Meridian and Outer Dark. The superbly realized voice of Jake Roedell the narrator tells the tale. He excuses himself from little and doesn’t hide the atrocities he witnesses, commits, and participates in style that is disturbing for how much you still find him endearing. Great characters (especially Holt a black man who fights for the South), beautiful dialogue, and language keep this riveting and filled with great lines and little moments a real sense of living in such times. A poignant relevance of this book is its example of how youth can be radicalized to a cause that has little to do with their own interests by the actions of an invading force.
December 5, 2008
I have wanted to read this book from the moment I saw Ang Lee’s film version, Ride with the Devil. And last winter I read Woodrell’s Winter’s Bone, the first Woodrell book that I have read, and it had me hot, once again to read Woe. I finally checked it out of the library as it is now ‘out of print, and I read it over Thanksgiving. Loved it.
Ang Lee and his screenwriter very carefully followed Woe, and much of the movie’s dialoge comes directly from its pages.
My review:
Thousands of authors have written the American Civil War from nearly every conceivable point of view. Daniel Woodrell, in his novel Woe to Live on, rides into one of the war’s most obscure, but particularly significant fronts. More than five years before Southern guns fired upon Fort Sumter, terror reigned on the Kansas-Missouri border. It lasted for almost ten years.
Woodrell’s story, particularly apropos in our post 9-11 world, follows 16 year old Jake Roedel and the group of “irregulars” he rides with. Jake’s “bushwacker” band of Missouri southerners fight against the Jayhawkers. Both of these groups of American terrorists commit atrocities with routine regularity. In Woe’s opening chapter, Jake shoots a young ‘Union’ boy in the back, “I gave no warning but the cocking of my Navy Colt and booked the boy passage with his father.” Jake shoots him with an air of everyday nonchalance, “Pups make hounds." Thus Woodrell presents his narrating protagonist, details this despicable act, and then proceeds to gradually build Jake into a person worth caring about.
Hatred festered not just with these loosely organized, pseudo-military bands, but also became endemic within the border’s citizenry as well. Bands roamed, clashing with each other and burning-out or murdering each’s citizen sympathizers. “These boys wore death like a garnish; it had no terror for them,” Jake explains of the bushwackers he rides with. “The Federals had crossed over the last line of restraint. And believe you me, we were the wrong tribe to treat in that fashion." Unbridled revenge upon revenge made morality an unaffordable luxury.
From this atmosphere of evil and hate, Woodrell fashions a number of sympathetic characters, ones with humanity and a set of war-tattered ethics. Jake befriends Holt, an African American, who, due to a bizarre set of allegiances, fights for the South.
“’Holt, do you reckon this war will ever end?’
‘No’
‘Me neither,’ I said. ‘Not unless we are killed.’
‘Oh, yes,’ he said, and patted his pistols. ‘That would do it. I left that out.’
‘You reckon we’ll be killed?’
‘Mmmmm,’ he went, and I really liked him, for a nigger. ‘Old men is not a way I ever figure us to be.’”
Woodrell allows Jake’s opinion of blacks and slavery to transform through his growing relationship with Holt. He feathers the change gradually, rendering plausibility.
Woodrell provides Jake with a convoluted love interest in Sue Lee Shelly, whose Confederate soldier husband was killed after three weeks of marriage. “I was not used to women except for mothers. Everything I did, they did different." Jake’s experience with women leaves much to be desired:
“’Are you a virgin?’
‘I’ve sinned plenty,’ I told her.
‘But have you ever bedded a woman before?’
‘Girl, I’ve killed fifteen men.’”
Like Jake’s friendship with Holt, Woodrell makes this love more cogent through a step-by-step evolution.
Jake’s band rides with William Quantrill on the infamous raid on Lawrence, Kansas. “It figured to be a bitter killing spree … a vigorous form of mass suicide,” but when they arrived, they discovered “no legions of soldiers and damn few Jayhawkers.” There were “only bad-luck citizens finding out just how bad luck can be."
In Jake, Woodrell proffers an uneducated, but bright and observant storyteller with wit and heart. “I guess a woman wants a man in wartime. While there still are any. People in hell want springwater." He describes a thunderstorm: “It was a dark, majestic eruption, and it made one feel tiny and squashable." On Holt: he “looked the same in a hot spot as he did sleeping. Anything he thought hardly ever made it to where it showed.” And also, “Laughs were the only sounds Holt made in two days. He kept his tongue well rested."
Jake’s child-like wit keeps popping to the surface in the midst of grim surroundings: He observes “the great smiley head of the sun drool light into the country,” and Jake offers other colorful descriptions, such as “Old Evans cranked his feet up to the pace of a scared turtle."
With simple eloquence, Daniel Woodrell evokes from our nation’s history, an example of rampant terrorism. Through Jake Roedel, he illustrates how good people, when tormented and victimized, may resort to evil deeds while still maintaining a sense of morality. Woodrell leaves us wanting more.
Ang Lee and his screenwriter very carefully followed Woe, and much of the movie’s dialoge comes directly from its pages.
My review:
Thousands of authors have written the American Civil War from nearly every conceivable point of view. Daniel Woodrell, in his novel Woe to Live on, rides into one of the war’s most obscure, but particularly significant fronts. More than five years before Southern guns fired upon Fort Sumter, terror reigned on the Kansas-Missouri border. It lasted for almost ten years.
Woodrell’s story, particularly apropos in our post 9-11 world, follows 16 year old Jake Roedel and the group of “irregulars” he rides with. Jake’s “bushwacker” band of Missouri southerners fight against the Jayhawkers. Both of these groups of American terrorists commit atrocities with routine regularity. In Woe’s opening chapter, Jake shoots a young ‘Union’ boy in the back, “I gave no warning but the cocking of my Navy Colt and booked the boy passage with his father.” Jake shoots him with an air of everyday nonchalance, “Pups make hounds." Thus Woodrell presents his narrating protagonist, details this despicable act, and then proceeds to gradually build Jake into a person worth caring about.
Hatred festered not just with these loosely organized, pseudo-military bands, but also became endemic within the border’s citizenry as well. Bands roamed, clashing with each other and burning-out or murdering each’s citizen sympathizers. “These boys wore death like a garnish; it had no terror for them,” Jake explains of the bushwackers he rides with. “The Federals had crossed over the last line of restraint. And believe you me, we were the wrong tribe to treat in that fashion." Unbridled revenge upon revenge made morality an unaffordable luxury.
From this atmosphere of evil and hate, Woodrell fashions a number of sympathetic characters, ones with humanity and a set of war-tattered ethics. Jake befriends Holt, an African American, who, due to a bizarre set of allegiances, fights for the South.
“’Holt, do you reckon this war will ever end?’
‘No’
‘Me neither,’ I said. ‘Not unless we are killed.’
‘Oh, yes,’ he said, and patted his pistols. ‘That would do it. I left that out.’
‘You reckon we’ll be killed?’
‘Mmmmm,’ he went, and I really liked him, for a nigger. ‘Old men is not a way I ever figure us to be.’”
Woodrell allows Jake’s opinion of blacks and slavery to transform through his growing relationship with Holt. He feathers the change gradually, rendering plausibility.
Woodrell provides Jake with a convoluted love interest in Sue Lee Shelly, whose Confederate soldier husband was killed after three weeks of marriage. “I was not used to women except for mothers. Everything I did, they did different." Jake’s experience with women leaves much to be desired:
“’Are you a virgin?’
‘I’ve sinned plenty,’ I told her.
‘But have you ever bedded a woman before?’
‘Girl, I’ve killed fifteen men.’”
Like Jake’s friendship with Holt, Woodrell makes this love more cogent through a step-by-step evolution.
Jake’s band rides with William Quantrill on the infamous raid on Lawrence, Kansas. “It figured to be a bitter killing spree … a vigorous form of mass suicide,” but when they arrived, they discovered “no legions of soldiers and damn few Jayhawkers.” There were “only bad-luck citizens finding out just how bad luck can be."
In Jake, Woodrell proffers an uneducated, but bright and observant storyteller with wit and heart. “I guess a woman wants a man in wartime. While there still are any. People in hell want springwater." He describes a thunderstorm: “It was a dark, majestic eruption, and it made one feel tiny and squashable." On Holt: he “looked the same in a hot spot as he did sleeping. Anything he thought hardly ever made it to where it showed.” And also, “Laughs were the only sounds Holt made in two days. He kept his tongue well rested."
Jake’s child-like wit keeps popping to the surface in the midst of grim surroundings: He observes “the great smiley head of the sun drool light into the country,” and Jake offers other colorful descriptions, such as “Old Evans cranked his feet up to the pace of a scared turtle."
With simple eloquence, Daniel Woodrell evokes from our nation’s history, an example of rampant terrorism. Through Jake Roedel, he illustrates how good people, when tormented and victimized, may resort to evil deeds while still maintaining a sense of morality. Woodrell leaves us wanting more.
November 30, 2013
Jake Roedel is already a seasoned veteran at 17, a blooded and bloodied soldier in the ugly guerilla war being waged along the Kansas/Missouri border during the American Civil War. German born Jake has to work extra hard to keep his place amongst his Confederate companions. He’s a ruthless young man in a ruthless time, when Confederate Bushwhackers and Union Jayhawkers turned eastern Kansas and western Missouri into a bloody battleground hundreds of miles wide.
There is no romanticism about the war on display here. The Southerners are not gallant gentleman fighting for a ‘lost cause’, nor are the Union soldiers moralistic liberators. There’s no easy distinctions. Mostly they’re just boys on both sides, hardened and made cruel by the times. Despite his fierce loyalty to the Confederate cause, Jake himself openly acknowledges this, “They were like us - but terrible.” One of Jake’s closest companions is a black man, the taciturn Holt. Though he’s still legally a slave, Holt fights for the Confederates with as much, if not more, ferocity than any of his white companions. There is a sense that the side a man ends up fighting on is dictated mostly by where he was born, and who his friends are, more than any sort of high minded political or ideological rhetoric. There are no grand battles here. This is a war of ambush and murder, where everyone is a combatant, whether in uniform or not, and atrocities are just another tactic to be used. “This is a time of infinitely shaded cruelty, Roedel,” Jake’s commander, the psychotic and fearless Black John, tells him at one point. “It cannot be otherwise. I have victory in mind.” Black John’s opinions are quickly confirmed when three Union soldiers are unlucky enough to be taken prisoner by Jake’s crew. Looking upon their grisly remains, Jake can only think that “my comrades had revealed themselves to be near wizards at unpleasantries.”
If that last quote didn’t clue you in, the book itself is often written with a wry and semi-detached understatement. Jake is not one for exaggeration. The prose feels authentic to the period. Flowery one moment, profane the next, with a dark sense of humour that helps balance the grimness. But that means taking the good with the bad - Jake is no enlightened abolitionist, and he and his companions make liberal use of all the various racial epithets you’d expect.
This is all about the brutalities of a civil war. Woodrell mercilessly and efficiently strips away any sense of glamour or righteousness and serves up a bushwhacker’s-eye-view of the conflict in all it’s violent splendour. A short book, but not at all slight.
There is no romanticism about the war on display here. The Southerners are not gallant gentleman fighting for a ‘lost cause’, nor are the Union soldiers moralistic liberators. There’s no easy distinctions. Mostly they’re just boys on both sides, hardened and made cruel by the times. Despite his fierce loyalty to the Confederate cause, Jake himself openly acknowledges this, “They were like us - but terrible.” One of Jake’s closest companions is a black man, the taciturn Holt. Though he’s still legally a slave, Holt fights for the Confederates with as much, if not more, ferocity than any of his white companions. There is a sense that the side a man ends up fighting on is dictated mostly by where he was born, and who his friends are, more than any sort of high minded political or ideological rhetoric. There are no grand battles here. This is a war of ambush and murder, where everyone is a combatant, whether in uniform or not, and atrocities are just another tactic to be used. “This is a time of infinitely shaded cruelty, Roedel,” Jake’s commander, the psychotic and fearless Black John, tells him at one point. “It cannot be otherwise. I have victory in mind.” Black John’s opinions are quickly confirmed when three Union soldiers are unlucky enough to be taken prisoner by Jake’s crew. Looking upon their grisly remains, Jake can only think that “my comrades had revealed themselves to be near wizards at unpleasantries.”
If that last quote didn’t clue you in, the book itself is often written with a wry and semi-detached understatement. Jake is not one for exaggeration. The prose feels authentic to the period. Flowery one moment, profane the next, with a dark sense of humour that helps balance the grimness. But that means taking the good with the bad - Jake is no enlightened abolitionist, and he and his companions make liberal use of all the various racial epithets you’d expect.
This is all about the brutalities of a civil war. Woodrell mercilessly and efficiently strips away any sense of glamour or righteousness and serves up a bushwhacker’s-eye-view of the conflict in all it’s violent splendour. A short book, but not at all slight.
April 12, 2018
Woe to Live On by David Woodrell, is a fast paced and turbulent novel based on mostly fictitious Missouri characters fighting for the South during the American Civil War. Names like William Quantrill, Frank James, Cole Younger to name a few were part of the horde. These men, both black and white, fought from horseback with pistols and took no prisoners. Essentially they were marauders and sometimes just plane murderers. However they all had their reasons for fighting and killing, and they got the same from the North and the Kansas Jayhawkers. The story recounts the massacre in Lawrence, Kansas, to demonstrate the despicable cruelty and viciousness of the war. The author used the style of writing of the day in 1860’s midwest, which added to the drama and realism. It is an outstanding work and worth the read. However the story is rough using the vocabulary of the day. This is not done to offend but to add to the authenticity the story. My version of the novel was an audiobook. About 5 hours.
June 1, 2015
What I liked about the book: the insights into the true "Border War", the writer's voice, the ending of the book. It is worth picking up to read. I do think I liked it a bit better than "Winter's Bone".
What I did not like: watching a bunch of young men self-destruct by taking the path of least resistance. Jake Roedel is only nineteen at the close of the novel! They could not stay home so they had to choose between joining up with a legitimate army or sneaking around through the Missouri countryside wreaking havoc and mayhem.
The book brought to mind this quote from CS Lewis: “Only those who try to resist temptation know how strong it is. ... We never find out the strength of the evil impulse inside us until we try to fight it: and Christ, because He was the only man who never yielded to temptation, is also the only man who knows to the full what temptation means—the only complete realist.”
What I did not like: watching a bunch of young men self-destruct by taking the path of least resistance. Jake Roedel is only nineteen at the close of the novel! They could not stay home so they had to choose between joining up with a legitimate army or sneaking around through the Missouri countryside wreaking havoc and mayhem.
The book brought to mind this quote from CS Lewis: “Only those who try to resist temptation know how strong it is. ... We never find out the strength of the evil impulse inside us until we try to fight it: and Christ, because He was the only man who never yielded to temptation, is also the only man who knows to the full what temptation means—the only complete realist.”
July 23, 2012
Ho. Lee. Shit. I am a big asshole for never reading Daniel Woodrell before. This is hands-down the best novel I've absorbed in years. Imagine Wells Tower rewriting Cormac McCarthy and you kinda know what Woe to Live On is like. C-Mac without the intentional obtuseness, with the added bonus of at least one amazing turn-of-phrase per paragraph? Oh, my stars and garters.
And what's this? It was turned into a movie-film? EXCITING! Directed by Ang Lee? Interesting. Starring Tobey Maguire and Skeet Ulrich? WHAT. THE. FUCK.
Bah. Shitty movie adaptations aside, Danny W. is going to occupy significant hunks of my time for the rest of the year.
And what's this? It was turned into a movie-film? EXCITING! Directed by Ang Lee? Interesting. Starring Tobey Maguire and Skeet Ulrich? WHAT. THE. FUCK.
Bah. Shitty movie adaptations aside, Danny W. is going to occupy significant hunks of my time for the rest of the year.
October 18, 2016
This is mostly ugly boring war in the woods. Our hero is part of a band of vigilantes (Bushwhackers) who raid homes and kill people. They're outlaws, not soldiers.....but I still learned a bit about the Civil War in Missouri and Kansas. There is no logic to the Rebel loyalties of the group (lots of personal honor involved) but you have to like Jake, Holt and Jack Bull. Daniel Woodrell creates complex characters I always love.
I hope to see Ang Lee's Ride With the Devil while this brilliant book is still fresh in my mind.
I hope to see Ang Lee's Ride With the Devil while this brilliant book is still fresh in my mind.
February 8, 2013
What a brutal yet beautiful book. The story of a young recruit among the rebels, bushwackers, who specialize in guerrilla warfare battling the bands of Jayhawkers from Kansas. Jake joined Black John Ambrose's band of the First Missouri irregulars with his "near" brother Jack Chiles.
The obvious comparison is to The Outlaw Josie Wales, but this book seems much more brutal or primal, if you will. There are no punches pulled in this story and death is a constant companion. Jake sits on the periphery of the group , not so much for his age but because he is a "dutchman" and he can read and write. As you get to know Jake you begin to see he is a little different, at one point he engineers the release of someone from his home area and in one scene feels that while the killings were justified the manner of death was not. A raid on the town of Lawrence, Kansas proves to be the final straw for Jake.
It took a little while for me to get into the rhythm of his terse, choppy dialogue but once I got used to it the story really flowed quite well. The phrasing reminded me of some of the dialogue from True Grit.
A very different book from Winter's Bone but no less powerful.
The obvious comparison is to The Outlaw Josie Wales, but this book seems much more brutal or primal, if you will. There are no punches pulled in this story and death is a constant companion. Jake sits on the periphery of the group , not so much for his age but because he is a "dutchman" and he can read and write. As you get to know Jake you begin to see he is a little different, at one point he engineers the release of someone from his home area and in one scene feels that while the killings were justified the manner of death was not. A raid on the town of Lawrence, Kansas proves to be the final straw for Jake.
It took a little while for me to get into the rhythm of his terse, choppy dialogue but once I got used to it the story really flowed quite well. The phrasing reminded me of some of the dialogue from True Grit.
A very different book from Winter's Bone but no less powerful.
September 17, 2021
Gimcrack version of Three Years with Quantrill: A True Story Told By His Scout. McCorkle's narrative is much more thrilling and realistic.
In lots of places Woodrell's book doesn't have the right sound: "Captain Quantrill had timed our march exquisitely." Is this how a bushwhacker would put it? Does he give the Chef's gesture and kiss his greasy fingers?
Also, in comparison to McCorkle, Dutchy Roedel is a RINO (rebel in name only): "All the gore and glory of the conflict seemed pointless."
In lots of places Woodrell's book doesn't have the right sound: "Captain Quantrill had timed our march exquisitely." Is this how a bushwhacker would put it? Does he give the Chef's gesture and kiss his greasy fingers?
Also, in comparison to McCorkle, Dutchy Roedel is a RINO (rebel in name only): "All the gore and glory of the conflict seemed pointless."
Read
January 26, 2021Here is a fantastic title to read for our Winter Reading Challenge!
What I liked about the book: the insights into the true "Border War", the writer's voice, the ending of the book. It is worth picking up to read. I do think I liked it a bit better than "Winter's Bone".
What I did not like: watching a bunch of young men self-destruct by taking the path of least resistance. Jake Roedel is only nineteen at the close of the novel! They could not stay home so they had to choose between joining up with a legitimate army or sneaking around through the Missouri countryside wreaking havoc and mayhem.
The book brought to mind this quote from CS Lewis: “Only those who try to resist temptation know how strong it is. ... We never find out the strength of the evil impulse inside us until we try to fight it: and Christ, because He was the only man who never yielded to temptation, is also the only man who knows to the full what temptation means—the only complete realist.” *Reviewed by Darla from Red Bridge*
What I liked about the book: the insights into the true "Border War", the writer's voice, the ending of the book. It is worth picking up to read. I do think I liked it a bit better than "Winter's Bone".
What I did not like: watching a bunch of young men self-destruct by taking the path of least resistance. Jake Roedel is only nineteen at the close of the novel! They could not stay home so they had to choose between joining up with a legitimate army or sneaking around through the Missouri countryside wreaking havoc and mayhem.
The book brought to mind this quote from CS Lewis: “Only those who try to resist temptation know how strong it is. ... We never find out the strength of the evil impulse inside us until we try to fight it: and Christ, because He was the only man who never yielded to temptation, is also the only man who knows to the full what temptation means—the only complete realist.” *Reviewed by Darla from Red Bridge*
March 14, 2013
My emotions want to give this book a higher rating than I did. The fact is the story is not "monumental", but it is more than worth absorbing. Many a reader may not chose to pick up this volume because it deals with Missouri bushwackers during the Civil War. Indeed it has its share of violent encounters to turn off the more squeamish. One might compare it in its own way to The Red Badge of Courage. But, folks, I'm here to tell you that this has some of the best written prose I've ever read. The author has a masterful touch in turning a phrase that is as soothing to the soul as the soft touch from a loved one, as heart-warming as the shared laugh from a good friend. For one small sample, with three of the men discussing a well-regarded young woman, one says, "She is coltish of attitude, with an ungainly gallop of spirit." Much later, when two of the men are regarding the new infant of the same young woman, one says, "Babies is something I never can believe." "What do you mean!", says the other. "Well, look at it. Do you believe that thing will shout and holler and haul water someday?" And then the other man relates to the reader in the first-person, "To realize that this little handful was actually a person is to have faith in a miracle of dimensions." This book was turned into an Ang Lee movie, "Ride With the Devil", which I have not seen, but, while I can see the dialogue coming through in the transition, I have a hard time imagining the first-person narrative will be done the justice it deserves.
January 14, 2018
4 Stars (very good) A well written, well paced book.
The character dialogue was enjoyable to me. It had a southern mannered speech, with a vivid picture-like way to of saying things. Such as a surprise attack described “we acted out sudden tragedies for many a luckless oppressor”.
The story follows a core band of men who are fighting the union army during the civil war in the Missouri area. It is a more like a day to day account what is going on in their lives, what their camp group dynamics are, and how they got to be where they are. The main characters are well developed and likeable; Jake (main), Jack Bull (his friend), Holt (black ex-slave), and Sue Lee (wild girl).
Their lives are hard, they constantly attacking or hiding from union soldiers. But they are fighting for their families, friends, and townspeople. So even with the difficult times the story never feels hopeless.
They are fighting for a cause they believe in, doing the honorable thing (maybe not in honorable way always). The story includes some romance with Jake, Jake Bull and Sue Lee. So the overall story is not a heavy hearted war story but more lively and pragmatic.
The character dialogue was enjoyable to me. It had a southern mannered speech, with a vivid picture-like way to of saying things. Such as a surprise attack described “we acted out sudden tragedies for many a luckless oppressor”.
The story follows a core band of men who are fighting the union army during the civil war in the Missouri area. It is a more like a day to day account what is going on in their lives, what their camp group dynamics are, and how they got to be where they are. The main characters are well developed and likeable; Jake (main), Jack Bull (his friend), Holt (black ex-slave), and Sue Lee (wild girl).
Their lives are hard, they constantly attacking or hiding from union soldiers. But they are fighting for their families, friends, and townspeople. So even with the difficult times the story never feels hopeless.
They are fighting for a cause they believe in, doing the honorable thing (maybe not in honorable way always). The story includes some romance with Jake, Jake Bull and Sue Lee. So the overall story is not a heavy hearted war story but more lively and pragmatic.
August 23, 2012
This has to be one of the most well written books I have ever read. Woodrell tells the story of a group of Civil War raiders who terrorize Union sympathizers while trying to avoid the army. It is very much hit and run tactics. The story also includes Capt. William Quantrill's infamous raid on Lawrence Kansas. Having said that, the majority of the book concerns the camp life of the raiders and their interactions with Rebel sympathizers who help hide them out.
Woodrell captures his characters PERFECTLY! Their thoughts, idioms, patterns of speech and behavior are so accurately portrayed you would swear you were living in camp and riding along with the group. Some of the characters in the book actually were among Quantrill's raiders.
I know the book won't be everyone's cup of tea, but if you enjoy character studies, or the Civil War I can't recommend this book enough.
Woodrell captures his characters PERFECTLY! Their thoughts, idioms, patterns of speech and behavior are so accurately portrayed you would swear you were living in camp and riding along with the group. Some of the characters in the book actually were among Quantrill's raiders.
I know the book won't be everyone's cup of tea, but if you enjoy character studies, or the Civil War I can't recommend this book enough.
January 28, 2014
What an interesting novel. What is so impressive is the author's ability to maintain the voice of the narrator from the title to the last sentence. The book delicately balances humor, horror, and hope. There is a sense that this book could have been written by a Vietnam veteran but set in the Civil War, or maybe all wars are somewhat the same in the end. I once read or heard that you never have to explain war to a veteran and you can never explain war to someone not involved. I don't know Woodrell's background, maybe he was like Stephen Crane, but this one helluva tale.
February 8, 2008
Ang Lee made "Ride With the Devil" from this amazing book--and here's a happy case where both book and movie knock it out of the park. This is full-on wartime immersion, and what you can't get out of your mind is that these rough-riding, murdering rebels are practically children. Spot-on and fully believable narrator in period voice that's still easy enough to read, and precise, deft descriptive prose. One of the best Civil War novels out there.
October 13, 2009
A bleak,brutal story about the American Civil War from the POV of a Southern Militia. An issue,war time period i have no real interst in but Woodrell made you really care with his realer than real characters. His authentic dialouge was very good too.
A new author to me who showed alot of potential with this book.
A new author to me who showed alot of potential with this book.
November 21, 2019
Der amerikanische Bürgerkrieg kann getrost als eigentliche Geburtsstunde der USA wie wir sie heute kennen, betrachtet werden. Es war ein Ringen archaischen, ja biblischen Ausmaßes, ein Bruderkrieg, in dem eine Nation um ihr Selbstverständnis und ihre Grundwerte rang. Man darf das so sagen, auch wenn die hehren Ziele, die gern als Movens angegeben werden – allem voran die Abschaffung der Sklaverei in den Südstaaten, also jenen Gebieten südlich von 36° 30´, die zu Sklavenstaaten erklärt wurden, während die Staaten nördlich dieser Längen- und Breitengradbezeichnungen sogenannte Freie Staaten bildeten – nicht mit denen übereinstimmten, die vor allem den damaligen Präsidenten Abraham Lincoln bewogen, einen Bürgerkrieg in Kauf zu nehmen. Diesem war vor allem am Erhalt der Union, also der Vereinigten Staaten von Amerika, gelegen, die er – Zitat: „Mit oder ohne die Institution der Sklaverei“ – um jeden Preis verteidigen wollte. Was daraus folgte, was ein Schlachten, das mit ungeheurer Grausamkeit, ohne Mitleid und unter fürchterlichen Verlusten an Menschenleben ausgetragen wurde. Zudem war der Amerikanische Bürgerkrieg ein Versuchsfeld, in dem neue Waffen, neue militärische Taktiken und Strategien und nicht zuletzt eine Menge Material erprobt wurden. All das Material, die Taktiken und Strategien, kamen später, vor allem im Ersten Weltkrieg, auf den Schlachtfeldern Europas, zum Einsatz. Es gab Schützengräben, es kamen die ersten stahlgepanzerten Schlachtschiffe zum Einsatz, man experimentierte mit modernsten Waffentechniken, denen die medizinische Versorgung auf den Schlachtfeldern nichts entgegen zu setzen hatte. Ein Krieg des 20. Jahrhunderts wurde mit den medizinischen Mitteln des 17. Jahrhunderts geführt. Dies hatte unter anderem zur Folge, daß in keinem – auch keinem modernen - Krieg derart hohe Verluste im Kampfeinsatz selbst zu beklagen waren. Bis zu 27% der Gefallenen kamen im direkten Gefecht ums Leben. Hinzu kamen Krankheiten, Hunger und die fürchterlichen Bedingungen in den Kriegsgefangenenlagern des Nordens, wie des Südens.
Es mag der Grausamkeit des amerikanischen Bürgerkrieges und den noch immer schwärenden Wunden, die er hinterlassen hat, geschuldet sein, daß er erstaunlich wenig Niederschlag in der amerikanischen Literatur fand. Natürlich gab es GONE WITH THE WIND (1936), Margaret Mitchells großes Südstaaten-Epos, das noch einmal jenen Süden der Plantagen, der angeblich so liebevoll mit ihren Sklaven umgehenden Pflanzer, der ehrenwerten Gentlemen und wunderschönen Frauen, jener „Magnolien des Südens“, aufleben ließ. Es war und bleibt aber vor allem eine Schmonzette. In der ernsthaften Literatur wurde wenig auf den Krieg reflektiert. William Faulkner nimmt zwar ununterbrochen Bezug auf ihn, der Krieg ist wesentlicher Referenzpunkt seiner Literatur, doch wirklich tauchte er lediglich in ABSALOM, ABSALOM (1936) historisch in den Krieg ein. Shelby Foote war lange einer der wenigen Literaten, die sich wirklich mit dem Krieg auseinandersetzten. SHILOH (1952) gilt als einer der wesentlichen Romane zum Thema, doch noch bedeutender als diese literarische Auseinandersetzung, ist Footes dreiteilige Geschichte des Krieges, die bis heute als ein Standardwerk zum Thema gilt.
Geändert hat sich dies in den vergangene zwei Dekaden. E.L. Doctorow trug mit THE MARCH (2005) ebenso zum Bürgerkriegs-Kanon bei, wie Robert Olmstead mit COAL BLACK HORSE (2007), ein Werk, das, wie Doctorows, bei seinem Erscheinen frenetisch gefeiert wurde. Viel früher, bereits 1987, ist Daniel Woodrells WOE TO LIVE ON (1987) erschienen. Ein Werk, das vielleicht zu wenig Beachtung gefunden hat, bedenkt man, mit welcher Wucht Woodrell seine Geschichte eines der düstersten Kapitel des Sezessionskrieges – der Guerillakrieg der Milizen im Hinterland von Missouri und Kansas – auf den Leser niederkommen lässt.
Daniel Woodrell dürfte in Deutschland einem breiteren Publikum vor allem durch die Verfilmung seines Romans WINTER`S BONE (Roman 2006; Verfilmung 2010) bekannt geworden sein. Auch die Trilogie um den Ermittler Rene Shade, die in Deutschland als Sammelband unter dem Titel IM SÜDEN (2012) bei Heyne neu verlegt wurde, fand einige interessierte Leser. Doch beide Werke kommen nicht an WOE TO LIVE ON heran, das von ungeheurer literarischer Qualität zeugt. Nicht nur in seinen manchmal schwer erträglichen, weil expliziten Darstellungen dessen, was Milizkrieg bedeutet, sondern auch und gerade durch die überzeugende Darstellung eines vollkommen verqueren, vom Krieg und dem dauernden Umgang mit dem Tod geprägten Weltbildes, hat es eine nachhaltige Wirkung auf den Leser.
Die Begebenheiten, die sich eher episodisch darstellen, werden von dem Milizreiter Jake Roedel erzählt. Er ist zu Beginn der Handlung die sich über etwa zwei Jahre erstreckt, noch ein Junge, gerade achtzehn Jahre alt. Er reitet mit den Bushwhackers, unorganisierten, nicht den offiziellen Truppen des Südens unterstellten Einheiten, die vor allem in jenen Staaten ihr Unwesen trieben, deren Zugehörigkeit – wie eben in Missouri oder Kansas – nicht wirklich erkennbar war. Hier, an den Rändern des Kriegsgebietes, dessen Kern viel weiter östlich, in Virginia, den Carolinas, Maryland oder Georgia lag, wurde der Bürgerkrieg zu einem oft von persönlichen Motiven befeuerten Krieg zwischen Nachbarn. Teile der Bevölkerung der einzelnen Staaten schlossen sich umgehend der Sache des Südens an, andere – darunter traditionell die Deutschen, von denen auch Roedel abstammt – kämpften auf der Seite der Union. Roedel schließt sich aus Freundschaft zu seinem Fast-Bruder, wie er ihn nennt, Jack Bull den Sezessionisten an. Ihre Gegenspieler in dieser oft grausigsten Form des Krieges, sind die Jayhawkers, Milizen, die sich dem Norden verpflichtet fühlten und enger mit den regulären Truppen zusammen arbeiteten, als dies die Bushwhacker taten.
Roedel erzählt von der unglaublichen Brutalität, mit der gegen Nachbarn und Unbekannte vorgegangen wird, von Raub und Plünderung, gipfelnd in dem Massaker in der Stadt Lawrence, Kansas, im August 1863, das bis heute als „Quantrill´s Raid“ bezeichnet wird und dessen Grausamkeit für ebenso nachhaltigen wie zweifelshaften Ruhm gesorgt hat. William Clark Quantrill war der berühmteste und wohl auch berüchtigtste Bushwhacker-Partisan und der Überfall auf die Stadt fand unter seinem Kommando statt. Doch Woodrell gibt die Lage der Dinge wohl sehr naturgetreu wieder, wenn er Roedel berichten lässt, daß sich einzelne Bushwhacker-Trupps vollkommen autonom organisierten und unabhängig voneinander agierten. So gab es Kommandos unter verschiedenen regionalen Anführern, zu denen auch Coleman Younger gezählt werden darf, der später mit den James-Brüdern Jesse und Frank die berüchtigte Bande bildete. Younger, Quantrill und auch Frank James haben Auftritte im Roman. Daß die Übergänge vom Partisanenkrieg zum reinen Gangstertum schon während des Krieges fließend waren, verdeutlicht der Roman ebenfalls. Es wundert nicht, daß Männer, die ein Massaker wie jenes in Lawrence anzettelten, jedes Maß und jede Mitte verloren hatten. Und daß sie mit Beendigung der Kampfhandlungen nahtlos dazu übergingen, Züge, Postkutschen und weiterhin die Gehöfte jener zu überfallen, die sie als ihre Feinde ausgemacht hatten.
Lawrence wurde zu einem Fanal, bei dem der Anlaß – angeblich war ein Frauengefängnis in Brand gesetzt worden, in dem vor allem Südstaatlerinnen einsaßen – und die eingesetzten Mittel in keinem Verhältnis mehr zueinander standen, zumal man in der Stadt, entgegen eigener Erwartungen, weder auf reguläre Unionstruppen, noch auf Jayhawkers traf. Der Überfall artete in ein Gemetzel an der Zivilbevölkerung aus und Roedel/Woodrell lassen dabei wenig aus, was man sich an Widerlichkeiten vorstellen kann. Allerdings schwelgen weder der Autor, noch sein Sprachrohr, in Beschreibungen der Gewalt. Sie beschreiben, was zu beschreiben ist. Und das, was zu beschreiben ist, spricht für sich selbst.
Es sind eben diese Beschreibungen und die Sprache, die Woodrell Roedel angedeihen lässt – und die in der Übersetzung von Peter Torberg gut getroffen wird – die die eigentliche Qualität des Buches ausmachen. Denn nur in der Sprache kommt zum Ausdruck, welch fürchterliche Verwerfungen psychischer und seelischer Art dieser Krieg nicht nur bei den Opfern hatte. Wobei die meisten, die an Roedels Seite reiten, selber auf die eine oder andere Art Opfer geworden sind. In einer ernüchternden und ebenso bedrückenden Szene, wird Roedel nonchalant von einem Bekannten, den er ewig nicht gesehen hat, mitgeteilt, daß sein Vater, obwohl ein Mann der Union, von einem freigelassenen Deutschen erst schwer verletzt und dann sterbend durch das Dorf getrieben worden sei, bis er zusammenbrach. Der Grund dafür dürfte Roedels eigene Seitenwahl für die Sezession gewesen sein. Roedel nimmt diese Information fast gleichmütig hin. Die Abstumpfung dieser Männer ist ohnegleichen, mehr noch: Jede Form der Gewalt, die ihnen angetan wird, wird zugleich als gerecht betrachtet, weil man selber kein Deut besser ist. Und diese Kerle wissen das. Da Roedel denjenigen, der seinen Vater getötet hat, zuvor selber verschont hatte, kommt er lediglich zu dem Schluß, daß in „Mitleid Verrat stecke“ (S. 92). Daraus leitet er daraus ab, zukünftig noch gnadenloser gegen Feinde und solche, die er dafür hält, vorzugehen.
Diese Männer, nein, Jungen, fast Kinder noch, sind durch den Krieg vollkommen abgestumpft. Sie sind brutalisiert und bar aller Menschlichkeit. Aber es ist etwas noch Fürchterlicheres mit ihnen geschehen – sie sind Todesengel geworden. Sie sind verliebt in den Tod, sie flirten mit ihm. Sie bringen ihn, sicher, und sie tun es mit Lust. Doch sie erwarten ihn auch. In der Welt dieser Jungs, ist das Leben ein unnatürlicher Zustand, etwas Obszönes. Der Tod ist die Normalität geworden. Woodrell gelingt es, diese Entwicklung mit einer grausigen Wucht zu vermitteln, indem er seinen Ich-Erzähler mit Kälte und Sachlichkeit von den Taten berichten lässt, die er und die seinen verrichtet haben. Und gelegentlich lässt Woodrell dabei aufblitzen, wie sehr diese Taten ihnen gefallen haben.
Woodrell gelingt es brillant, die Spirale der Gewalt nachzuzeichnen und spürbar zu machen. Man hat sich entschieden und man bleibt seiner Entscheidung treu, Im Laufe der Zeit, mit jedem Gefecht, jedem Freund und Mitreiter, den man sterben sieht, wächst der Hass und wird der einzelne unversöhnlicher. Der Krieg – gerade der Guerilla-Krieg – wird zu einem sich selbst befeuernden System. Selbst die Erkenntnis, daß das Gegenüber genau dasselbe empfindet, genau dieselben Phasen von Trauer und Hass durchlebt, ändert daran wenig. Als die Männer, mit denen Roedel reitet, einen Postsack der Unionisten stehlen und Jake, der einer der wenigen ist, die lesen können, bitten, ihnen Briefe der Föderalisten vorzulesen, entdecken sie genau die gleichen Gefühle, Ängste und Sorgen bei den Müttern und Vätern, den Brüdern und Schwestern ihrer Feinde, wie sie sie von den eigenen Angehörigen kennen. Das berührt die Männer, doch es lässt sie in ihrem Furor eher erstarken, denn milder werden. Ja, sie lieben den Tod.
Erst die Erlebnisse in Lawrence, mehr noch, daß auf einmal die eigenen Leute anfangen, auf Roedel und seine engeren Kumpane zu schießen, weil diese bei der vollkommen unmotivierten Gewalt nicht mehr mittun wollen, läßt den Erzähler umdenken. Eine Verletzung zwingt ihn zu einem Rückzug vom direkten Kampfgeschehen. Und hier kommt Roedel nicht nur zur Ruhe, sondern in ihm reift auch die Einsicht, daß der Krieg verloren und die „Sache“, für die man gekämpft hat, möglicherweise nicht so überzeugend ist, wie einst gedacht. Zudem wird Roedel durch eine erzwungene Heirat mit einer jungen Frau, die von seinem Freund Jack Bull, der mittlerweile getötet wurde, schwanger ist, auf unerbittliche Art und Weise mit den Moralvorstellungen des Südens konfrontiert.
Woodrell macht es sich und dem Leser nicht einfach mit den Konstellationen. Der Deutsche Roedel – von seinem Mitstreitern „Dutchy“ genannt, obwohl er kein Holländer ist – reitet gegen die Haltung seiner Gemeinde mit den Sezessionisten, von denen die meisten sogenannte Yeoman-Farmer sind, also keineswegs Sklavenhalter, sondern eher Kleinbauern und Pächter. Sie kämpfen also für eine Sache, die ihre gar nicht ist. Weshalb im Süden gern von „the cause“ – der Sache – die Rede war, womit eben jene bestimmte Lebensart gemeint war, die aber für das Gros der Männer, die da rebellierten nie galt oder gelten würde. Roedels Freund Jack Bull ist seinerseits Sohn eines Pflanzers, also eines Großgrundbesitzers und Sklavenhalters, und geht mit einem vollkommen anderen Selbstverständnis in den Krieg. Dieses Selbstverständnis schließt auch ein, daß sogar Schwarze für die Sache des Südens kämpfen. Zu dem Trupp um Bull und Roedel gehört unter anderem Holt, ein Schwarzer, der kein Sklave war und an der Seite eines Weißen reitet, mit dem er seit Kindestagen befreundet ist- Ihm fühlt er sich verpflichtet. Im Laufe der Ereignisse schließen Holt und Roedel ebenfalls Freundschaft und schließlich begleitet Holt Roedel, als der sich aus den Kämpfen zurück zieht. Auch Holt hat seine Einstellung zum Krieg verändert, als er in Lawrence Zeuge wurde, wie eine Gruppe wehrloser Schwarzer kaltblütig ermordet, regelrecht hingerichtet wurde.
Anhand solcher Konstellationen gelingt es Woodrell, die äußerst komplizierte Gemengelage in den Reihen der Rebellen nachvollziehbar zu vermitteln. Daß man es hier zudem mit Milizen und keinesfalls regulären Truppen zu tun hat, verdeutlicht die Komplexität dieses Bürgerkriegs umso mehr. So nüchtern Woodrell seinen Erzähler von dessen Erlebnissen berichten lässt, so kaltblütig das oft wirkt, so deutlich kommt hier zum Ausdruck, wie sehr dieser Krieg die Menschen, ein ganzes Land, deformiert hat, Seelen und Herzen zerstört und vergiftet. Man versteht, wieso dieser Krieg so endlos lange nachwirken konnte – und ganz nebenbei versteht man, wie fürchterlich Kriege immer sind, welchen Hass sie zwangsläufig heraufbeschwören und daß sie meist nichts außer verbrannte Erde – im wahrsten Sinne des Wortes – zurücklassen. Wie das Land, so die Menschen: zerstört.
Es mag der Grausamkeit des amerikanischen Bürgerkrieges und den noch immer schwärenden Wunden, die er hinterlassen hat, geschuldet sein, daß er erstaunlich wenig Niederschlag in der amerikanischen Literatur fand. Natürlich gab es GONE WITH THE WIND (1936), Margaret Mitchells großes Südstaaten-Epos, das noch einmal jenen Süden der Plantagen, der angeblich so liebevoll mit ihren Sklaven umgehenden Pflanzer, der ehrenwerten Gentlemen und wunderschönen Frauen, jener „Magnolien des Südens“, aufleben ließ. Es war und bleibt aber vor allem eine Schmonzette. In der ernsthaften Literatur wurde wenig auf den Krieg reflektiert. William Faulkner nimmt zwar ununterbrochen Bezug auf ihn, der Krieg ist wesentlicher Referenzpunkt seiner Literatur, doch wirklich tauchte er lediglich in ABSALOM, ABSALOM (1936) historisch in den Krieg ein. Shelby Foote war lange einer der wenigen Literaten, die sich wirklich mit dem Krieg auseinandersetzten. SHILOH (1952) gilt als einer der wesentlichen Romane zum Thema, doch noch bedeutender als diese literarische Auseinandersetzung, ist Footes dreiteilige Geschichte des Krieges, die bis heute als ein Standardwerk zum Thema gilt.
Geändert hat sich dies in den vergangene zwei Dekaden. E.L. Doctorow trug mit THE MARCH (2005) ebenso zum Bürgerkriegs-Kanon bei, wie Robert Olmstead mit COAL BLACK HORSE (2007), ein Werk, das, wie Doctorows, bei seinem Erscheinen frenetisch gefeiert wurde. Viel früher, bereits 1987, ist Daniel Woodrells WOE TO LIVE ON (1987) erschienen. Ein Werk, das vielleicht zu wenig Beachtung gefunden hat, bedenkt man, mit welcher Wucht Woodrell seine Geschichte eines der düstersten Kapitel des Sezessionskrieges – der Guerillakrieg der Milizen im Hinterland von Missouri und Kansas – auf den Leser niederkommen lässt.
Daniel Woodrell dürfte in Deutschland einem breiteren Publikum vor allem durch die Verfilmung seines Romans WINTER`S BONE (Roman 2006; Verfilmung 2010) bekannt geworden sein. Auch die Trilogie um den Ermittler Rene Shade, die in Deutschland als Sammelband unter dem Titel IM SÜDEN (2012) bei Heyne neu verlegt wurde, fand einige interessierte Leser. Doch beide Werke kommen nicht an WOE TO LIVE ON heran, das von ungeheurer literarischer Qualität zeugt. Nicht nur in seinen manchmal schwer erträglichen, weil expliziten Darstellungen dessen, was Milizkrieg bedeutet, sondern auch und gerade durch die überzeugende Darstellung eines vollkommen verqueren, vom Krieg und dem dauernden Umgang mit dem Tod geprägten Weltbildes, hat es eine nachhaltige Wirkung auf den Leser.
Die Begebenheiten, die sich eher episodisch darstellen, werden von dem Milizreiter Jake Roedel erzählt. Er ist zu Beginn der Handlung die sich über etwa zwei Jahre erstreckt, noch ein Junge, gerade achtzehn Jahre alt. Er reitet mit den Bushwhackers, unorganisierten, nicht den offiziellen Truppen des Südens unterstellten Einheiten, die vor allem in jenen Staaten ihr Unwesen trieben, deren Zugehörigkeit – wie eben in Missouri oder Kansas – nicht wirklich erkennbar war. Hier, an den Rändern des Kriegsgebietes, dessen Kern viel weiter östlich, in Virginia, den Carolinas, Maryland oder Georgia lag, wurde der Bürgerkrieg zu einem oft von persönlichen Motiven befeuerten Krieg zwischen Nachbarn. Teile der Bevölkerung der einzelnen Staaten schlossen sich umgehend der Sache des Südens an, andere – darunter traditionell die Deutschen, von denen auch Roedel abstammt – kämpften auf der Seite der Union. Roedel schließt sich aus Freundschaft zu seinem Fast-Bruder, wie er ihn nennt, Jack Bull den Sezessionisten an. Ihre Gegenspieler in dieser oft grausigsten Form des Krieges, sind die Jayhawkers, Milizen, die sich dem Norden verpflichtet fühlten und enger mit den regulären Truppen zusammen arbeiteten, als dies die Bushwhacker taten.
Roedel erzählt von der unglaublichen Brutalität, mit der gegen Nachbarn und Unbekannte vorgegangen wird, von Raub und Plünderung, gipfelnd in dem Massaker in der Stadt Lawrence, Kansas, im August 1863, das bis heute als „Quantrill´s Raid“ bezeichnet wird und dessen Grausamkeit für ebenso nachhaltigen wie zweifelshaften Ruhm gesorgt hat. William Clark Quantrill war der berühmteste und wohl auch berüchtigtste Bushwhacker-Partisan und der Überfall auf die Stadt fand unter seinem Kommando statt. Doch Woodrell gibt die Lage der Dinge wohl sehr naturgetreu wieder, wenn er Roedel berichten lässt, daß sich einzelne Bushwhacker-Trupps vollkommen autonom organisierten und unabhängig voneinander agierten. So gab es Kommandos unter verschiedenen regionalen Anführern, zu denen auch Coleman Younger gezählt werden darf, der später mit den James-Brüdern Jesse und Frank die berüchtigte Bande bildete. Younger, Quantrill und auch Frank James haben Auftritte im Roman. Daß die Übergänge vom Partisanenkrieg zum reinen Gangstertum schon während des Krieges fließend waren, verdeutlicht der Roman ebenfalls. Es wundert nicht, daß Männer, die ein Massaker wie jenes in Lawrence anzettelten, jedes Maß und jede Mitte verloren hatten. Und daß sie mit Beendigung der Kampfhandlungen nahtlos dazu übergingen, Züge, Postkutschen und weiterhin die Gehöfte jener zu überfallen, die sie als ihre Feinde ausgemacht hatten.
Lawrence wurde zu einem Fanal, bei dem der Anlaß – angeblich war ein Frauengefängnis in Brand gesetzt worden, in dem vor allem Südstaatlerinnen einsaßen – und die eingesetzten Mittel in keinem Verhältnis mehr zueinander standen, zumal man in der Stadt, entgegen eigener Erwartungen, weder auf reguläre Unionstruppen, noch auf Jayhawkers traf. Der Überfall artete in ein Gemetzel an der Zivilbevölkerung aus und Roedel/Woodrell lassen dabei wenig aus, was man sich an Widerlichkeiten vorstellen kann. Allerdings schwelgen weder der Autor, noch sein Sprachrohr, in Beschreibungen der Gewalt. Sie beschreiben, was zu beschreiben ist. Und das, was zu beschreiben ist, spricht für sich selbst.
Es sind eben diese Beschreibungen und die Sprache, die Woodrell Roedel angedeihen lässt – und die in der Übersetzung von Peter Torberg gut getroffen wird – die die eigentliche Qualität des Buches ausmachen. Denn nur in der Sprache kommt zum Ausdruck, welch fürchterliche Verwerfungen psychischer und seelischer Art dieser Krieg nicht nur bei den Opfern hatte. Wobei die meisten, die an Roedels Seite reiten, selber auf die eine oder andere Art Opfer geworden sind. In einer ernüchternden und ebenso bedrückenden Szene, wird Roedel nonchalant von einem Bekannten, den er ewig nicht gesehen hat, mitgeteilt, daß sein Vater, obwohl ein Mann der Union, von einem freigelassenen Deutschen erst schwer verletzt und dann sterbend durch das Dorf getrieben worden sei, bis er zusammenbrach. Der Grund dafür dürfte Roedels eigene Seitenwahl für die Sezession gewesen sein. Roedel nimmt diese Information fast gleichmütig hin. Die Abstumpfung dieser Männer ist ohnegleichen, mehr noch: Jede Form der Gewalt, die ihnen angetan wird, wird zugleich als gerecht betrachtet, weil man selber kein Deut besser ist. Und diese Kerle wissen das. Da Roedel denjenigen, der seinen Vater getötet hat, zuvor selber verschont hatte, kommt er lediglich zu dem Schluß, daß in „Mitleid Verrat stecke“ (S. 92). Daraus leitet er daraus ab, zukünftig noch gnadenloser gegen Feinde und solche, die er dafür hält, vorzugehen.
Diese Männer, nein, Jungen, fast Kinder noch, sind durch den Krieg vollkommen abgestumpft. Sie sind brutalisiert und bar aller Menschlichkeit. Aber es ist etwas noch Fürchterlicheres mit ihnen geschehen – sie sind Todesengel geworden. Sie sind verliebt in den Tod, sie flirten mit ihm. Sie bringen ihn, sicher, und sie tun es mit Lust. Doch sie erwarten ihn auch. In der Welt dieser Jungs, ist das Leben ein unnatürlicher Zustand, etwas Obszönes. Der Tod ist die Normalität geworden. Woodrell gelingt es, diese Entwicklung mit einer grausigen Wucht zu vermitteln, indem er seinen Ich-Erzähler mit Kälte und Sachlichkeit von den Taten berichten lässt, die er und die seinen verrichtet haben. Und gelegentlich lässt Woodrell dabei aufblitzen, wie sehr diese Taten ihnen gefallen haben.
Woodrell gelingt es brillant, die Spirale der Gewalt nachzuzeichnen und spürbar zu machen. Man hat sich entschieden und man bleibt seiner Entscheidung treu, Im Laufe der Zeit, mit jedem Gefecht, jedem Freund und Mitreiter, den man sterben sieht, wächst der Hass und wird der einzelne unversöhnlicher. Der Krieg – gerade der Guerilla-Krieg – wird zu einem sich selbst befeuernden System. Selbst die Erkenntnis, daß das Gegenüber genau dasselbe empfindet, genau dieselben Phasen von Trauer und Hass durchlebt, ändert daran wenig. Als die Männer, mit denen Roedel reitet, einen Postsack der Unionisten stehlen und Jake, der einer der wenigen ist, die lesen können, bitten, ihnen Briefe der Föderalisten vorzulesen, entdecken sie genau die gleichen Gefühle, Ängste und Sorgen bei den Müttern und Vätern, den Brüdern und Schwestern ihrer Feinde, wie sie sie von den eigenen Angehörigen kennen. Das berührt die Männer, doch es lässt sie in ihrem Furor eher erstarken, denn milder werden. Ja, sie lieben den Tod.
Erst die Erlebnisse in Lawrence, mehr noch, daß auf einmal die eigenen Leute anfangen, auf Roedel und seine engeren Kumpane zu schießen, weil diese bei der vollkommen unmotivierten Gewalt nicht mehr mittun wollen, läßt den Erzähler umdenken. Eine Verletzung zwingt ihn zu einem Rückzug vom direkten Kampfgeschehen. Und hier kommt Roedel nicht nur zur Ruhe, sondern in ihm reift auch die Einsicht, daß der Krieg verloren und die „Sache“, für die man gekämpft hat, möglicherweise nicht so überzeugend ist, wie einst gedacht. Zudem wird Roedel durch eine erzwungene Heirat mit einer jungen Frau, die von seinem Freund Jack Bull, der mittlerweile getötet wurde, schwanger ist, auf unerbittliche Art und Weise mit den Moralvorstellungen des Südens konfrontiert.
Woodrell macht es sich und dem Leser nicht einfach mit den Konstellationen. Der Deutsche Roedel – von seinem Mitstreitern „Dutchy“ genannt, obwohl er kein Holländer ist – reitet gegen die Haltung seiner Gemeinde mit den Sezessionisten, von denen die meisten sogenannte Yeoman-Farmer sind, also keineswegs Sklavenhalter, sondern eher Kleinbauern und Pächter. Sie kämpfen also für eine Sache, die ihre gar nicht ist. Weshalb im Süden gern von „the cause“ – der Sache – die Rede war, womit eben jene bestimmte Lebensart gemeint war, die aber für das Gros der Männer, die da rebellierten nie galt oder gelten würde. Roedels Freund Jack Bull ist seinerseits Sohn eines Pflanzers, also eines Großgrundbesitzers und Sklavenhalters, und geht mit einem vollkommen anderen Selbstverständnis in den Krieg. Dieses Selbstverständnis schließt auch ein, daß sogar Schwarze für die Sache des Südens kämpfen. Zu dem Trupp um Bull und Roedel gehört unter anderem Holt, ein Schwarzer, der kein Sklave war und an der Seite eines Weißen reitet, mit dem er seit Kindestagen befreundet ist- Ihm fühlt er sich verpflichtet. Im Laufe der Ereignisse schließen Holt und Roedel ebenfalls Freundschaft und schließlich begleitet Holt Roedel, als der sich aus den Kämpfen zurück zieht. Auch Holt hat seine Einstellung zum Krieg verändert, als er in Lawrence Zeuge wurde, wie eine Gruppe wehrloser Schwarzer kaltblütig ermordet, regelrecht hingerichtet wurde.
Anhand solcher Konstellationen gelingt es Woodrell, die äußerst komplizierte Gemengelage in den Reihen der Rebellen nachvollziehbar zu vermitteln. Daß man es hier zudem mit Milizen und keinesfalls regulären Truppen zu tun hat, verdeutlicht die Komplexität dieses Bürgerkriegs umso mehr. So nüchtern Woodrell seinen Erzähler von dessen Erlebnissen berichten lässt, so kaltblütig das oft wirkt, so deutlich kommt hier zum Ausdruck, wie sehr dieser Krieg die Menschen, ein ganzes Land, deformiert hat, Seelen und Herzen zerstört und vergiftet. Man versteht, wieso dieser Krieg so endlos lange nachwirken konnte – und ganz nebenbei versteht man, wie fürchterlich Kriege immer sind, welchen Hass sie zwangsläufig heraufbeschwören und daß sie meist nichts außer verbrannte Erde – im wahrsten Sinne des Wortes – zurücklassen. Wie das Land, so die Menschen: zerstört.
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