Shane

by Jack Schaefer

A book written in the year of my birth it epitomizes the ethos of the legendary wild west gunfighter, who having once established his reputation found it impossible to escape it. And so a man named only Shane rides into the life of a pioneering farm family in cattle country, a land where fences and barbed wire were fighting words and open range reigned supreme. Shane is lean and rock hard, ever vigilant with a haunted, hunted look in his eyes. We get the sense of a coiled spring ready to jump into action instantly at need. There is deep irony in seeing such a man wield an ax, till the soil, or mend fence but he does it with grace and absolute economy of motion, no effort wasted. When the inevitable confrontation comes our hero reluctantly proves himself equally adept with his fists as he is fast with the draw. But when he can barely keep his feet after beating down a gang of tough cowhands he is described as being carried out of the bar like a child. He rides off into the sunset gut-shot with what was probably a fatal wound but legends can never die. Several movie versions of the book have been made but you owe it to yourself to read the original.