Louis L'Amour is commonly called the most popular novelist of the 20th century, with some 260 million books sold by century's end. But he wasn't critically well-regarded, and there are times reading him you understand why.
Sackett's Land presents him in surprisingly weak form given the pride of place this novel enjoys in his oeuvre.
Sackett's Land is the chronological beginning of the Sackett series of close to 20 novels L'Amour wrote about the doings of a frontier family. It wasn't the first Sackett novel; The Daybreakers had appeared 14 years before in 1960 and was set, like many of L'Amour's novels, in the classic period for American western fiction of 1870-90. Sackett's Land casts us back much farther, to the era of flintlocks, casques, and privateers. It features the arrival to the New World in 1599 of Barnabas Sackett of Cambridgeshire, England.
Sackett's Land is the chronological beginning of the Sackett series of close to 20 novels L'Amour wrote about the doings of a frontier family. It wasn't the first Sackett novel; The Daybreakers had appeared 14 years before in 1960 and was set, like many of L'Amour's novels, in the classic period for American western fiction of 1870-90. Sackett's Land casts us back much farther, to the era of flintlocks, casques, and privateers. It features the arrival to the New World in 1599 of Barnabas Sackett of Cambridgeshire, England.
Barnabas quickly decides the New World offers him a fresh start instead of eking out a sustenance-level life in his father's fenny freehold. Discovering some ancient coins gives him a rung up; a rough encounter with a vengeful noble gives him a push. Can he make it across the Atlantic with the help of some friends, avoiding the dangers of pirates, Indians, and alligators? Will he find a hopeful future, or ruination?
Given how L'Amour spun out this series into 18 more novels about Barnabas and his offspring, there doesn't seem much cause for suspense. Certainly L'Amour doesn't make up for the lack with his writing here. Sackett's Land is a by-the-numbers exercise clearly designed to set the course for the Sackett series already well underway.
"I want my sons to grow tall in freedom, to grow where they may stretch and move and go as far and do as much as their talents and strength will permit," Barnabas opines near novel's end. "I do not want them hamstrung by privilege nor class."
It's this kind of yammering that helps make Sackett's Land a chore to read. Whether he's leading a group of raiders into an enemy camp or pitching woo at an attractive woman, Barnabas takes time out for philosophical discoursing about his ultimate purpose in life and his view of the world, delivered invariably in this weighty-sounding, contraction-free prose that seems to be L'Amour's attempt at suggesting the way folks talked back when.
At the heart of the problem with Sackett's Land is how unimaginatively the story is plotted. Every chapter features a battle of some kind, with Sackett invariably emerging unscathed and more determined than ever to reach his destiny. He makes allies without much in the way of preamble, fighting men of various backgrounds who like the cut of his jib or whatever and decide in an instant to make him their leader and to live and die for him. The crowd around Barnabas gets so thick L'Amour loses track of them himself.
The point of the novel is too obvious a preamble for books to come; it has no real life of its own. Barnabas keeps reminding us of his big dreams, and how it ties into his take on the New World: "There's a vast land yonder, and my destiny lies there. My own destiny, and that of my family."
Barnabas's hand is somewhat forced by the fact he is actually taken to North America (actually the Carolinas, though not known as such then) by pirates who, as part of a complicated backstory involving the nasty nobleman mentioned before, have been given a sum of money to dump Barnabas overboard. But they delay their duty when they find Barnabas is an able worker. One of the themes of Sackett's Land is how Barnabas always finds a way to stay alive and ahead; it becomes numbing as it proves his one personality trait and invariable characteristic.
There are a couple of decent action set-pieces and the narrative moves well. It is pocked with way too much coincidence, but you expect that with L'Amour the same way you do with his literary models, James Fenimore Cooper and Sir Walter Scott. As someone who enjoys light reading, and the literary comfort food L'Amour dished out, there isn't a lot to actively dislike about Sackett's Land.
But there's even less to like. It's more of a table-setter than a fully-formed adventure tale of its own, and after reading it, I'm wondering if the rest of the Sackett series is as weak as this.
Given how L'Amour spun out this series into 18 more novels about Barnabas and his offspring, there doesn't seem much cause for suspense. Certainly L'Amour doesn't make up for the lack with his writing here. Sackett's Land is a by-the-numbers exercise clearly designed to set the course for the Sackett series already well underway.
"I want my sons to grow tall in freedom, to grow where they may stretch and move and go as far and do as much as their talents and strength will permit," Barnabas opines near novel's end. "I do not want them hamstrung by privilege nor class."
It's this kind of yammering that helps make Sackett's Land a chore to read. Whether he's leading a group of raiders into an enemy camp or pitching woo at an attractive woman, Barnabas takes time out for philosophical discoursing about his ultimate purpose in life and his view of the world, delivered invariably in this weighty-sounding, contraction-free prose that seems to be L'Amour's attempt at suggesting the way folks talked back when.
At the heart of the problem with Sackett's Land is how unimaginatively the story is plotted. Every chapter features a battle of some kind, with Sackett invariably emerging unscathed and more determined than ever to reach his destiny. He makes allies without much in the way of preamble, fighting men of various backgrounds who like the cut of his jib or whatever and decide in an instant to make him their leader and to live and die for him. The crowd around Barnabas gets so thick L'Amour loses track of them himself.
The point of the novel is too obvious a preamble for books to come; it has no real life of its own. Barnabas keeps reminding us of his big dreams, and how it ties into his take on the New World: "There's a vast land yonder, and my destiny lies there. My own destiny, and that of my family."
Barnabas's hand is somewhat forced by the fact he is actually taken to North America (actually the Carolinas, though not known as such then) by pirates who, as part of a complicated backstory involving the nasty nobleman mentioned before, have been given a sum of money to dump Barnabas overboard. But they delay their duty when they find Barnabas is an able worker. One of the themes of Sackett's Land is how Barnabas always finds a way to stay alive and ahead; it becomes numbing as it proves his one personality trait and invariable characteristic.
There are a couple of decent action set-pieces and the narrative moves well. It is pocked with way too much coincidence, but you expect that with L'Amour the same way you do with his literary models, James Fenimore Cooper and Sir Walter Scott. As someone who enjoys light reading, and the literary comfort food L'Amour dished out, there isn't a lot to actively dislike about Sackett's Land.
But there's even less to like. It's more of a table-setter than a fully-formed adventure tale of its own, and after reading it, I'm wondering if the rest of the Sackett series is as weak as this.
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