As above so below, I don't know how I'm gonna go / But with angels by my side, I'm gonna get on my horse and ride (Good Time Blues, An Outlaw’s Lament – Hurray for the Riff Raff).
This review will seem a bit weird because I’ll probably be all over the place. I’ll be out here saying it’s really good in one sentence, and then in the same breath I’ll be talking about something that felt off to me. All I can really say is that at the end of the day, I think this is a great book, and any negativity on my end is more to just explain the context as to where I’m coming from as a reader. Like I said, objectively, I think The Nightland Express is wonderful. Anyway, can I be real with you for a second and say that I’m fake as hell because the only reason why I picked this book up was because I didn’t want to leave the Cannon Beach book store empty handed and the cover was pretty. Well, it’s nice to be rewarded for half-ass-ing everything every now and then because sometimes you'll find yourself reading an absolute gem! A diamond in the rough, if you will. Seriously, I really can’t stress enough how much I didn’t know about this book going into it! I didn’t even realize it was a fantasy until some wild stuff started happening and I was like, “Wait a minute… what’s all this here…” If it wasn't obvious by now, it takes a little while for me to catch up to basic concepts. I’m not joking when I tell you that I thought empaths were, like, a real thing while I was reading The Infinite Noise by Lauren Shippen! Hm, I'm realizing that that’s an embarrassing thing to admit in writing, isn’t it? Moving on though, while I thought this book was at its best when it stayed more grounded in reality, as it did take some time for me to get used to the genre shift from Western to Magical Realism, I was still able to appreciate the effort the author put into making a historical-fiction novel infused with fantasy that also manages to tackle racism, gender roles, queer awakenings, trans awakenings, climate change, and colonization, all within a sensitive and cohesive narrative. It’s actually kind of a miracle that this book works at all, given the many pratfalls it could have gotten itself into. This comes as a surprise, well, to me, because it’s not always the easiest thing to do a story set during this time without tripping up when it comes to exploring its specific social issues and how they relate to the social issues of our time. Nonetheless, I’d say that when done right, I think Westerns as a genre will always be entertaining for me. Well, maybe “entertaining” is the wrong word because of all the awfulness happening during the time (slavery and genocide, among other things), but it’s interesting to see how Westerns have shifted in the cultural zeitgeist as these movies about machismo, freedom, and “man taking justice into his own hands,” into a genre that’s now more interested in exploring themes of the hypocrisy of said freedom and the cultural unrest of the time. Oh, by the way, I think this is a good thing. These things should evolve and if you keep making the same story with the same ideals forever, then you’ll fail to realize that audience sentiments are constantly changing and won't hesitate to move on without you... much like how Westerns often feature stories about society moving too fast for the stoic, wandering main character. Just ask Kevin Costner! Dances with Wolves man with his newest shitty Western that bombed because nobody wanted to watch it except him. What I’m getting at is that I don’t blame this book for almost immediately abandoning the well-known iconography of the genre and going down a different path entirely. Still, I think that J.M. Lee manages to imbue The Nightland Express with just enough of a deep-seated feeling of wanderlust that I can’t help but feel like this book remains profoundly… Western.
Let me just set the scene. When I did realize that this book would mostly be a fantasy, my eye-brow did do an involuntary twitch. Not that it really matters in the grand scheme of things, but I guess this is the part where I say that I’m Native American. Dun dun dunn~nn! And I don’t mean it in a “My great-great-great-great-great grandma is a Cherokee princess” kind of way, but like… in a “Hey, my mom is Native so I’m Native” kind of way. It’s actually not something I usually advertise about myself, and even looking at that “I’m Native American” bit up there like it’s some kind of important declaration makes me cringe a little, but whenever I let people know, they can sometimes get kind of weird about it. Things get a little too “Send Me on My Way” by Rusted Root for my taste. I’m only letting you in on the secret for added context! Anyway, the truth is that I’m always a bit skeptical whenever there’s a story that includes both Native Americans and has a “the magic of the land” vibe to it. I’m always like, gee, I wonder what vaguely offensive thing the author will imply about Native’s inherent connection to nature this time around. Not that I don’t think environmentalism is a very important thing to write about, but when you characterize Native peoples with this fantasy, “elf-like,” quality that adheres so strictly to some kind of lofty idea of “the old ways,” it kind of creates this imagery where the Native peoples are an ancient society that’s only duty left here is to pass the torch onto newer societies. Portraying them as some kind of willingly sacrificial people, rather than victims of genocide. Sorry to let the cat out the bag, but hey, we’re still here! My point here is that I was worried that this book would be another one of those ones, but thankfully, I think it made great strides into alleviating a lot of the fears I had going into it. The narrative goes out of its way to address and feature the kinds of people that a Western genre story always seems to forget, and I appreciate that. But I will say that it was interesting how Natives are often brought up by the characters, but aren’t often seen or given a voice within the actual story. This isn’t really a criticism, but it’s funny how in a book that’s so dead-set on breaking the wheel, it still delegates Native Americans to being tertiary characters in a story that, in many ways, should be about them. It’s almost like it’s another example of Native peoples again merely being used as set-dressing in a genre story rather than a respectful portrayal outright. Wow, this went off the rails, huh? I usually just keep writing until I arrive at some kind of point. Because who knows, maybe it’s not that deep? But if a story opens up a dialogue about issues that are important to me, then I’ll always take that opportunity and run with it! Sorry. I mean, it’s prevalent even in the way that the fantasy aspect of the novel often felt at odds with the setting, because the whole story is about the Fae and their connection to the land, but I thought something felt off because I’m not really sure if Fae fantasy really fits in a story taking place in 19th century North America. Again, I’m not really sure what I'm trying to say here, but maybe I would have liked this book better if there were more connections to Native religions or something.
So, here’s the thing about doing a Western genre thing in this day and age and why most people don’t bother… it’s because you can’t just do a simple cowboy story anymore (why don't we ask Kevin Costner). Meaning, a writer can’t just ignore the issues of the time anymore. I mean, you can, but not if you want the story to be honest and true. Remember that thing about audience taste’s growing and changing? Yeah, that part. Again, I think this is a good thing, because otherwise the genre becomes stale and derivative, and art should always try to reflect important social change, no matter how difficult it can be to talk about. But because a lot of people would rather to avoid hard topics, in order to get around talking about them in Westerns specifically, I’ve noticed that writers like to add a designated “POC” character to give the audience the okay, a kind of buffer that let's us know that “it’s alright, everyone! Our main characters aren’t racist!” The thing is, I’m afraid I don’t have one example of this! …I have five. In Bone Tomahawk, the main characters have to go into a cavern to kill off the savage, dangerous, and cannibalistic natives that are threatening the town. Sounds pretty racist, doesn’t it? Don’t worry, they’ve got a native dude that tells Kurt Russell before he sets out on this journey that these monsters aren’t “real” Native Americans and it’s totally cool to get rid of them. Cool, thanks man! In Cowboys & Aliens, Harrison Ford plays a guy who used to literally hunt Natives, and while that sounds like an objectively bad thing, it’s all good, his character now has a Native friend that tells the audience that he’s a good man. Even cooler! In the newer Magnificent Seven, the evil group’s turncoat Native dude is offset by the hero’s good guy Native dude who gives us permission to cheer when turncoat Native gets killed! Yes! Wooo! Mass Effect: Andromeda is a sci-fi video game about the races of the Milky Way Galaxy traveling to the Andromeda Galaxy in order to “colonize a new frontier!” Hold up, yuck, actually. It’s fine though, in order to side-step the weird “manifest destiny” vibes, the story reveals that the Natives of the Andromeda galaxy are actually under attack by other evil invaders. See, the Milky Way travelers are the “good” kind of colonizer! Phew, really dodged a bullet there guys! In The Nightland Express, the narrative likes to wax poetic about the terrible treatment of the Native Americans, but only features one Native character in the whole novel. And even then, they’re really only there to offer sage advice about the land and "the old ways" to our main characters before they dip. My point, if I have one, is that Native Americans are always going to be ever present in any kind of Western, as it’s literally a part of our history, but if there’s going to be a story with us in it, I’d like our role to be a bit more substantial than the “offers you a life lesson about nature and mysticism”-guy. Regardless, I hope this review didn’t come across like I thought this book was offensive or uninteresting, because I did like it. Quite a bit, actually. It’s a story for the downtrodden, the marginalized and forgotten, and finishing it felt like saying goodbye to an old friend.
“I have to go. But I’ll be back… I want to know everything.”
We have all of time, she said