By Ashley Crawford
FICTION
Tom’s Crossing
Mark Z. Danielewski
Knopf US, $85
Riding into Cormac McCarthy territory would take a lot of guts. The author of the lauded Blood Meridian and the Border Trilogy basically owned the western genre for several decades. But Mark Z. Danielewski has done just that and, it seems, earned his stirrups.
Danielewski has never shied away from a challenge. His first novel, House of Leaves in 2000, was an experimental haunted-house epic that garnered critical praise and cult-like worship. It was filled to the brim with mock-academic language, bizarre typographic trickery that forced the reader to twist the novel every few pages, and a highly complex cast of characters. A classic of contemporary ergodic literature, his second, Only Revolutions, pushed the experimentation even further and was, again, critically well received.
It was on his third, hyper-ambitious effort that the wheels fell off. The Familiar was conceived as a massive 27-volume magnum opus, Danielewski’s desire to create a literary series that would rival David Lynch’s Twin Peaks, each volume even referred to in terms of “seasons”. Only five were released (I made it to three before despairing). With an ever-shrinking fan base, it was generally derided as hopelessly gimmicky.
With Tom’s Crossing, Danielewski has changed gears dramatically. Gone are the experimental antics, replaced by an essentially traditional western epic of ponderous length. In essence the story of two teens and a ghost on a quest to save two horses from the slaughterhouse, Danielewski drags it, at first stubbornly, and as the characters develop (very much including the horses) it rapidly moves into a trot and finally a gallop.
Its length, in part, is due to Danielewski’s determination to mythologise his myth in situ. It’s at heart an adventure story, and we encounter interpretations of dramatic moments via the speculations and gossip ranging from idle chatter from the townsfolk through to songs written and performed and paintings and installations executed that are inspired by the mythos. Yes, Aristotle is slyly referred to throughout. Danielewski doesn’t hide either his inspiration or his ambition. The Iliad and The Odyssey arise several times, as though they are the peaks Danielewski is attempting to surmount on horseback. And, of course, Xanthos, a horse of Achilles in The Iliad, indeed finds speech, which is a subtext of Tom’s Crossing, the riders’ uncanny ability to seemingly communicate with their equine partners.
Mark Z. Danielewski’s new novel tackles the western genre.Credit: Getty Images
Aside from sublime descriptions of the mountainous landscape the book is set in, Danielewski’s characterisations are phenomenal. His key villain, Old Porch, who owns the slaughterhouse the horses were fated to, is as vivid as Brian Dennehy’s evil Sherriff in Silverado with mood swings to rival Donald Trump. Tom, the book’s titular hero, dies early of a hideous cancer, but returns along with all the frustrations of being a ghost, tagging along to help his friend Kalin, who has been joined by Tom’s adopted sister Landry in this sprawling misadventure. Their quest revolves entirely around a shared love for the equestrian, and if you don’t know much about horses, you are about to be taken for quite a knowledgeable ride.
Regardless of how outlandish the scenario may be, he has done his research. In House of Leaves he knew how to make films (his father was a filmmaker) and at least rudimentary architectural realities. In Tom’s Crossing he knows how to secure a halter and how to stop a saddle slipping in icy conditions. But there is not a spur in sight – they are not required.
And then there are the distraught mothers. Both single, one through death, the other divorce and from radically different backgrounds, they are, combined, the worst enemies Old Porch could face. They also embody maternal instincts with a terrifying intensity.
There’s also the central business of meteorology – the dastardly weather the teenagers and their horses travail in the mountains of Utah. Snow drifts, black ice, snow and rock falls aplenty. And behind all of that is the convoluted police procedural with its plethora of good, bad and incompetent cops.
By and large, the ergodic is out and the epic is in. Danielewski cannot help but insert hints of the experimental; a long list of the dead with its own weird backstory, a touch of jittery text formatting that only the keen-eyed will notice. This is a (fairly) clean-cut narrative, an adventure story that is far more modernist than postmodern.
Stephen King, in his blurb for the book, stated that: “I immersed myself. Have never read anything like it.” I can only agree.
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