Sixguns and Society: A Structural Study of the Western

by Will Wright

From the The purpose of this book is to explain the Western's popularity. While the Western itself may seem simple (it isn't quite), an explanation of its popularity cannot be; for the Western, like any myth, stands between individual human consciousness and society. If a myth is popular, it must somehow appeal to or reinforce the individuals who view it by communicating a symbolic meaning to them. This meaning must, in turn, reflect the particular social institutions and attitudes that have created and continue to nourish the myth. Thus, a myth must tell its viewers about themselves and their society. This study, which takes up the question of the Western as an American myth, will lead us into abstract structural theory as well as economic and political history. Mostly, however, it will take us into the movies, the spectacular and not-so-spectacular sagebrush of the cinema. Unlike most works of social science, the data on which my analysis is based is available to all of my readers, either at the local theater or, more likely, on the late, late show. I hope you will take the opportunity, whenever it is offered, to check my findings and test my interpretations; the effort is small and the rewards are many. And if your wife, husband, mother, or child asks you why you are wasting your time staring at Westerns on TV in the middle of the night, tell them firmly—as I often did—that you are doing research in social science.

Genres: Nonfiction, Film, Westerns, Mythology, History, Criticism, Sociology

Paperback

First published December 1, 1975

Reviews

[Charles]

Will Wright's book (1976) is, so far as I know, the first to apply the early ideas of genre theory to the Western. The first two-thirds, accordingly, is given over to analyzing a group of Westerns into a typology. Wright has chosen to limit himself to film and, within that, to the most popular. Given the problem he has set himself, of creating a typology of the genre, this seems a reasonable way of proceeding. Given his work, we might now be in a position to expand the analysis further, and in particular, as he builds his methodology on the analysis of folk tales pioneered by Propp and others, to include other forms of the Western. The genre, Wright points out, is mythic in nature and is a retrospection of the earlier period before the closing of the west as explicated by Frederick Jackson Turner. We no longer consider Turner's narrative as historically sufficient, but in the popular imagination it has served from the time of Buffalo Bill's Wild West show to establish the basic elements of the Western myth.

As a pioneer typology, Wright has work to do, and the majority of his book is devoted to establishing four archetypal narratives: classic, revenge, transitional, and professional. This use of narrative is astute. The Western might be analysed any number of ways, but as Wright sees that the most effective way of explaining genre change is to examine the relationship of stable character types in the context of changing, the narrative is the best mode of analysis. The detective story, by contrast, in concerned with knowledge, a quantity not associated with institutions particularly, and is thus best analysed in terms of the changing functions of its character types within oe basic narrative.

Wright's method then obliges him to engage in a somewhat labored explication of narrative, undertaken without the benefit of the insights since provided by Barthes and his successors, summarized in such books as Eco's Six Walks in the Fictional Woods and The Cambridge Introduction to Narrative.

That out of the way, Wright can proceed at last with his coupling of genre change in the Western to institutional change in the society in which the myth is embedded. The basis of this link is the relationship of the character archetype to the context of social values, a relationship expressed in action. Here is revealed Wright's emphasis on narrative as the differentiating principle which has driven his whole analysis.

[Feliks · Rating 3 out of 5]

I see that another reader of this fine work of media criticism (Goodreader, 'Tristam') has already --and very ably--summed up the gist of the material. There is little I can add to his remarks; except to note that besides Propp and Danto, the mythologist Wright's method struck me more akin to are those of Claude Calame.

In general I agree with Tristam; Wright's findings require a certain 'leap' and 'assumption-making' to complete one's acceptance of his theories. To make his case, Wright engages in a form of theorizing which probably can't be avoided given his subject matter. [We know how faulty this kind of thing is, from the cautions of Merleau-Ponty, if no one else].

But I still recommend the work heartily to any fan of cinema and cinema criticism if one reads it with the generous frame-of-mind one should have allowing that Wright was stepping into new territory and conducting a sort of 'experimental discourse'.

Maybe his theories aren't fully-fledged: nevertheless, he did an earnest job of demonstrating his ideas. The result is a new way to think about Hollywood westerns which we didnt have before. He sets a fine precedent for many other kinds of similar analyses which other thinkers might later develop in Wright's wake.

Specific rebuttal's to Tristam's remarks:

Tristam wrote: "According to Wright’s findings, there is strong evidence that during the 50s the professional plot more and more replaced the classical plot via the two other Western varieties..."

Surely the 'growing up of America'--the transformation of the provincial, rural United States in a major world power--fomented changes in the Hollywood western at least as broad and sweeping, yes? Whether or not Wright gets it exactly correct, we know that westerns do look 'different' after a certain point. Wright --rather brilliantly--points this out and also identifies one possible set of reasons as to 'why'.

If there are other theories to emerge later--from other critics--they had better be at least as good as Wright's are--even if they diverge slightly in their conclusions.

Tristam wrote: "I find this second part of the study less convincing than Wright’s structuralist analysis of the Western in several ways. For starters, the interpretation of the Western plots in terms of economic needs and structures seems a willful decision on the author’s part, which does not follow inherently from the findings of the analysis. One might instead have concentrated on the role of violence in Westerns and compared this with the change of the international role of the United States during this period of time or with the discourse on violence in daily life...."

It seems to me that this is what he did do. His choice of how to characterize the 'professional' western does not seem to me to be as 'willful' as you style it; what is lacking perhaps is a more detailed discussion of changes in the USA during this time-period. He needed to expand further on just what happened in our history during that interval. (In his defense, that's a pretty tall order for a book of which the scope is supposed to be fairly tightly focused on films themselves).

As for a theory based on 'violence in society' I don't think Wright would have overlooked this as an alternative explanation; but I think he sees violence as a more 'minor rationale' than the one he eventually settles on. What he should have done was better explain why he (probably) dismissed a 'theory of violence' in the course of his proposing his 'theory of professionalism'.

Tristam wrote: "Another worthwhile approach could have been gender issues...."

'Gender' has already been taken up by Laura Mulvey. Again, I think Wright simply wanted to 'hoe his own pasture' and present whatever the results turned out to be; good or bad. And he did so.

Tristam wrote: "it is rather doubtful, though, whether there really has been something like a “free market economy” in human history,..."

He's just using the phrase--and the concept--as a convenient shorthand to describe our economic system vs others.

Tristam wrote: "If the professional plot is really meant to reconcile broad audiences, most of whom will, by definition, fail to become part of any elite, with the existence of a caste of technocrats, why then are these audiences invited to share the perspective of the professionals along with their contempt for a society that is depicted as void of any values?..."

Why? Well, because that is one of the primary functions of film. Audiences are always invited to transpose themselves into the roles of the characters on the screen. Wright is saying that the pre-existing reason for that (emotional release) is --in a sense-- doubly-useful in the '60s in that it allows viewers to 'try on the hats of the bad guys' temporarily. Step briefly into the shoes of their counterparts in an opposing class..something which they cannot do in real life. The same thing happened in the 1930s when lower-income citizens were presented with glamorous, high-society movies. Pressure is released by such films, and reconciliation does occur. It is not that preposterous. See Jean Genet's 'The Balcony'. Or, look at the prevalence of 'carnevalle' in Catholic countries.

Tristam wrote: "...Wright’s tacit assumption that Westerns have undergone a change from classical to professional patterns in order to accommodate their audiences to changes in market society. Does that imply that directors, screenwriters, producers and studio bosses intended their stories to manipulate people with regard to these changes? This appears very far-fetched to me...."

I agree that a *deliberate* intent seems unlikely. But an *unconscious* intention seems perfectly valid to me. Hollywood was notorious (then and now) for copying a successful formula.

To support this, all you'd have to do is examine the screenwriting/directing teams of each movie in Wright's study and look for 'patterns'. Several can be spotted immediately: the collapse of the studios and the emergence of maverick directors, for example.

Sam Peckingpaugh was certainly looking for more realism in his westerns; as was Howard Hawks (Hawks specifically took on 'Rio Bravo' as an answer to 'High Noon'). So was William Goldman.

Some others--like Richard Brooks--were 'head down' rebels, that is to say: a type of established director who nonetheless, had always been gently bucking the 'conventional studio picture' on his own, wherever he could.

My opinion here nicely dovetails with this statement of Tristam's, next:

Tristam wrote: "I feel rather inclined to believe that the change from the classical plot to the vengeance variation, for instance, was motivated by screenwriters’ and directors’ disillusionment with society as such...."

Yes, or a number of other industry-related trends which could be advanced.

Tristam wrote: "Wright’s approach to regard so and so many individual Westerns as different emanations of one myth detracts too much from the intellectual merits every single one of these films may have or pretend to have, if you ask me...."

Agreed. There could easily be a myriad of other ways to account for trends in the western. Well done.

[Tristram Shandy · Rating 3 out of 5]

A Myth Dissected …

… is by no means a myth destroyed – at least not if we’re talking about the myth of the Western because the more you know about Western films the more you will enjoy them. Will Wright, in his 1975 study Sixguns and Society. A Structural Study of the Western, not only undertakes to analyze narrative patterns and conceptual dichotomies that are typical of the most popular Westerns from 1931 to 1972, but he also endeavours – less successfully, as it seems to me – to interpret the myths with respect to contemporary social developments and requirements.

Wright bases his analysis on Lévi-Strauss’s theory according to which a myth illustrates basic binary oppositions – in the case of the Western, Wright makes out the dichotomies inside society/outside society, good/bad, strong/weak and civilization/wilderness – but unlike Lévi-Strauss he attaches particular importance to narrative patterns. In order to integrate these into his structural approach, he resorts to Vladimir Propp’s concept of narrative functions and Arthur C. Danto’s model of narrative sequences. Concentrating on the box office hits among Westerns from the 30s to the early 70s – under the assumption that only films that transport the myth most undilutedly have large public appeal –, Wright works out a number of narrative functions that account for four different Western types: the classical plot, the vengeance variation, a transition theme, which Wright has found in only three Westerns, and the professional plot. According to Wright’s findings, there is strong evidence that during the 50s the professional plot more and more replaced the classical plot via the two other Western varieties.

Up to this point, I found his analysis quite convincing and methodically plausible. However, when it comes to translating these narrative patterns into social action, i.e. accounting for the meaning of the myth(s), I do have problems in following and swallowing Wright’s arguments. The author claims that the classical plot of the Western served to help individuals come to terms with insuperable contradictions characteristic of the classical, free, market society. To put it simply, there is the conflict between the autonomous individual seeking his own interests, and rightly so, and this individual’s yearning for social values transcending the scope of the individual. The professional plot, on the other hand, became necessary with the advent of a planned, corporate economy in which (economic and scientific) elites influence politics in a way to perpetuate the economic system rather than to realise a “good society”.

I find this second part of the study less convincing than Wright’s structuralist analysis of the Western in several ways. For starters, the interpretation of the Western plots in terms of economic needs and structures seems a wilful decision on the author’s part, which does not follow inherently from the findings of the analysis. One might instead have concentrated on the role of violence in Westerns and compared this with the change of the international role of the United States during this period of time (isolationism, World War II, the Cold War, and the war in Vietnam) or with the discourse on violence in daily life. Another worthwhile approach could have been gender issues. But even if you follow Wright’s decision in favour of economic changes – it is rather doubtful, though, whether there really has been something like a “free market economy” in human history –, there still seems to remain a logical inaccuracy: If the professional plot is really meant to reconcile broad audiences, most of whom will, by definition, fail to become part of any elite, with the existence of a caste of technocrats, why then are these audiences invited to share the perspective of the professionals along with their contempt for a society that is depicted as void of any values? Here there seems to me to be a rupture in terms of logic and perspective. In broader terms the professional Western may well denote an acceptance of a more cynical, hedonistic, yea even more liberal (in the cheapest sense of the word) outlook on life – and this could be argued for without any breach in perspective.

A last objection I would like to make is directed against Wright’s tacit assumption that Westerns have undergone a change from classical to professional patterns in order to accommodate their audiences to changes in market society. Does that imply that directors, screenwriters, producers and studio bosses intended their stories to manipulate people with regard to these changes? This appears very far-fetched to me. But equally so does the assumption that somehow Westerns changed that way. I feel rather inclined to believe that the change from the classical plot to the vengeance variation, for instance, was motivated by screenwriters’ and directors’ disillusionment with society as such. In other words – and the example of a Western like High Noon, which is definitely a comment on McCarthyism, regardless of how you interpret it, makes this clear – I would not underestimate political and social concerns when dealing with Westerns. Wright’s approach to regard so and so many individual Westerns as different emanations of one myth detracts too much from the intellectual merits every single one of these films may have or pretend to have, if you ask me.

All in all, I was fascinated with the structural analysis undertaken by the author, but his interpretation of this analysis did not strike me as too convincing.

[Rachel · Rating 5 out of 5]

Will Wright posits that westerns are America's version of great myths and legends (which I'd heard/read before), and that America's taste in western storytelling changed because American society changed. It's a cool theory, and he's pretty well convinced me. But the sociological implications aren't what interested me the most. What interested me were the story structure similarities that he pointed out. Basically, Wright studied the top-grossing western films from every year beginning in 1930 and running through 1972, when he did his study. That gave him more than 60 films to study, and while he didn't discuss every single one in detail in the book, he did study them all and looked for patterns in the stories they told.

Wright found that the films fell into four plot categories, which he termed Classical, Vengeance Variation, Transition, and Professional. In case you're interested, here are some of the more famous films he discussed, based on their plots:

Classical: Destry Rides Again (1940), Whispering Smith (1949), Shane (1953), Cat Ballou (1965), Support Your Local Sheriff (1969)

Vengeance: Stagecoach (1939), Red River (1949), Winchester '73 (1950), The Naked Spur (1952), The Searchers (1956)

Transition: Broken Arrow (1950), High Noon (1952)

Professional: Rio Bravo (1959), The Sons of Katie Elder (1965), The Professionals (1966), The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly (1968), The Wild Bunch (1969), Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid (1970)

If you write westerns, study films for fun, or just love lots and lots of westerns, you will probably find this book fascinating. But if you were bored reading this review, then you're not going to care much for the book either.

[Ryan Berger · Rating 2 out of 5]

I think I bought into ideas Wright is selling here a bit more than some of the other reviewers. There's a compelling thesis about individualism, outsiders, and problem-solving in the old west and what it says about where we're headed, and where we will always be.

There is way, way too much of Wright just recapping what happened in different westerns like a toddler recapping what Peppa Pig was up to today.

It's dated, but it ends up not mattering a whole lot.

I'll probably refer back to this if I ever want to write something with Western themes, but overall I'm not all that moved.

[Brent · Rating 3 out of 5]

This book is referenced in The Story Grid: What Good Editors Know as the source for the conventions and scenes of the western genre. It includes more information than I required but I do feel that I now have a good grasp on the western and its subgenres.

[Drew Powell · Rating 3 out of 5]

Useful as a beginners guide to the central narrative structures of the genre. If I were teaching a class I would definitely use some of this. However, it's limited in its scope of study (which Wright acknowledges) and sort of a dry read.

[Seb · Rating 4 out of 5]

This one was pretty academic and that's tough for me. I have similar taste in books to J Jonah Jameson's taste in Newspapers - I want some pictures of Spider-Man.

Anyway, I only really got through this one cause he was talking about cowboys the whole time. Much to consider.

[Ietrio · Rating 2 out of 5]

Cute. I mean very useful back in the day when there was no internet. Today it is quite boring with its synopsis. And there seem to be more complete books on the same theme available on the market.

[Andrew Heitzman · Rating 3 out of 5]

I enjoyed this book, but several parts of my experience held me back from truly finding this book enlightening. Wright spends the first 3/4 of this book establishing all of the basic information you need to know in order to truly analyze the Western in a historical light, then spends the last 30 pages actually analyzing that information. The book feels incredibly lopsided, and I feel like I know a great deal more about the structure of different types of Westerns (at least from the 50s through 70s) than I do about how our economic situation influences which Western is being told. Wright probably spends as much time talking about why Westerns are myths as why Westerns reflect society. That, coupled with the fact that this book is 40 years old (not something to be helped, but still unfortunate) makes the read difficult. Still, the actual structural interpretations of the Westerns themselves (before he talks about their societal meaning) is fascinating, and makes the book worth the read.

[B.J. Keeton · Rating 4 out of 5]

I really look forward to using this one for more research and reading more of what Wright has to say about the Western. While at PCA, I noticed a lot that I can do with my generic analysis that includes character archetypes other than the Hero, so as I look at the Western aspect of LOST and other literature, I can see no reason why Wright won't be one of the main sources in that part of my genre studies.

[Eva-Joy · Rating 2 out of 5]

Sad to say, this book did NOT live up to my expectations. I skimmed most of it, read a bit, and didn't even finish it. It was boring, boring, boring. *sigh* Back to Louis L'Amour novels - I love them and I don't need to know all the psychological reasons for WHY I love them.

[Theshiney · Rating 4 out of 5]

a philosophical and sociological exploration of the power of myth in modern society through a film genre... wasn't expecting that.