There are some absolutely remarkable passages in this memoir--the blizzard and the cattle in the beginning of the narrative (that alone is worth the price of the book), driving the cement mud roads to the hospital, the birthing of the calf towards the memoir's end. But this memoir is unbalanced--after the initial salvo, the next 175 pages or so are just one anecdotal childhood story after another--pretty standard fare of the frustrated "tom boy" girl in the family--simply change the setting and we've read this kind of part-nostalgia-part-feminist manifesto many times before. The actual descriptions of the ranch and ranch life in Montana are outstanding, as is her recounting of the grittier side of ranch life. But then she's married, and BOOM there are three kids, and then BOOM she's jettisoned herself off the ranch and into college. That story (along with the excellent text about the grandmother's recipe book for disease treatment, tar and turpentine--good grief what they endured) would have interested me far more than small town/ranch life pre-teen hijinks. (I also realized after I'd finished the book my paperback edition was minus the notorious typewriter scene that later editions of the memoir left out for legal reasons relating to truth. Ahem.)
My real issue with the memoir is the narrator (as she's depicted) is a pretty angry individual--not just rebellious and frustrated, but downright raging. There's a very strong and fundamentally irrational sense of her entitlement--why shouldn't SHE inherit the ranch over her brother (her elder brother, let's not forget)--and why can't she have equal say in how her husband's family's ranch works--and why didn't she go to college when her two other siblings did (it was clear to me this was the narrator's choice, not imposed upon her). So what we have is an angry young woman railing against nearly everything and everyone instead of looking at herself and her situation and using her intelligence and resourcefulness to find her way out--this was the 1970s, not the 1870s or even the 1950s. Women had limited choices, but they had choices. Yet this narrator continued to make bad choices. That scene of the "territory marking" and window breaking...good grief, that was disturbing--and the whiskey didn't excuse such overt destruction and violence to self and property. It was the act of someone who KNEW she'd be helped and bailed out--and that's what cinched my dislike of her as a character. She had a safety net. Many of us do not.
I make these judgments as a reader with a measure of confidence because I'm not that much younger than this author. I didn't marry at 18, I went to college, and I worked my jobs to own my own mountain home and ranch. Granted, it's not a working ranch, and it's only 40 acres and not 15,000, but it's my piece of property, purchased without the aid of any husband or father or demand for entitlement. That's what's missing in this book. That she could have seen her way out of this small town ranching life earlier, but she chose not to, instead rebelling by marrying this older guy, then having three kids with him, before finally deciding to make her own way. There's too much railing when no railing was warranted--she had choices. It just took her a very long time to find her way. Which of course makes the book on the surface appealing--we love the story of the comeback kid. Except I think this one, if not building her own obstacles, certainly shored them up. "Breaking Ragged" would have been a more appropriate title.