From critically acclaimed author of The Meadow comes a haunting novel of the American West.
Circumstances spiral out of control when an accidental murder springs from the best intentions. With one man dead and another on the run, this is a story about violence and how it destroys lives when the land is at stake. This lyrical first novel--long-awaited by the many admirers of James Galvin's The Meadow--is nothing less than the story of the disappearance of the American West.
It's rare for me to finish a book quickly. Sometimes it's the author's fault when I don't but usually it's because I find other things to do. When I gulp one down in 24 hours, though, I give full credit to the writer.
In this case, James Galvin.
I'd been on the lookout for his THE MEADOW, so when I came across FENCING THE SKY in a used bookstore, I brought it home and got roped in immediately by the opening scene in which Mike, a struggling small-time rancher, lassos a rapacious developer neighbor who's harassing the cattle he's trying to round up. The rope breaks the ATV-riding neighbor's neck, and while the man's death isn't an outright murder, neither is it an accident.
Mike leaves a note on the body taking responsibility and then takes flight on horseback.
The rest of the novel tells the story of his ride through parts of Colorado and Wyoming, expecting things to end badly, but in a way of his choosing. He's trailed by an Indian acquaintance who takes his job as finding Mike, not necessarily capturing him.
The narrative jumps around in time to tell the back story of Mike and the other characters—all of whom are wrapped up in the changes occurring in the mountain west as ranching devolves from a way of life to a lifestyle for wealthy men.
As Galvin somewhat unnecessarily states through a character brought out for the purpose: "the American West had two things to lose, its distinctive, horse-based, non-progress-oriented culture, and its natural environment."
So many novels about the West deal with this same theme, the way college novels feature horny professors. All of them are about loss; the difference is in how deeply they make you feel it.
James Galvin is a poet, and his vision of the people who inhabit the land where this story takes place is also poetic. Instead of a straightforward narrative from beginning to middle to end, it intermingles scenes from the lives of several characters told in flashbacks and flashforwards, all sequenced along the spine of a single plot line that involves the pursuit of a fugitive who has killed another man.
The location is northern Colorado and parts of Wyoming extending through the Great Divide Basin and northward into the mountains. The main characters are men with ties to the land -- a rancher, a cowboy, a doctor. Each is witness in his own way to the passing of the rural West and its replacement by land developers and the mining and logging industries.
They are also remnants of a code of honor that respects hard work, the individual, the land and its wildlife, and the values of courage, loyalty, and generosity. In particular, Galvin captures the nuances of friendship between these very individual men and the way matters of concern to them are often lightened with ironic and self-deprecating humor. I enjoyed this book and found myself caring very much for the welfare of its fugitive protagonist.
I recommend this novel to anyone with an interest in the modern West. As a companion book, I'd also recommend Frank Clifford's nonfiction book "Backbone of the World: A Portrait of a Vanishing Way of Life Along the Continental Divide," which finds many of the same kinds of people from real life and explores in greater depth many of the land use issues raised by Galvin's book. As of this writing, "Fencing the Sky" seems to be going out of print. I'm hoping that it reappears shortly in paperback and has a new life for new readers in that format.
Elegantly written new-fashioned Western, funny, angry, poignant. Only drawback is the frequent back and forth in time, losing narrative momentum as a result.
I didn’t enjoy the timeline jumping around and trying to figure whose productive you were viewing things from, but overall a good introspective story’s.
James Galvin is a renowned writer who has written six volumes of poetry as well as two novels: [b][i]The Meadow[\b][\i] and [b][i]Fencing the Sky[\b][\i]. Whilst I’m not familiar with Mr Galvin’s poetry (yet), his novels read like an extended poem, conveying a sharp and uncluttered image of the land and people he is describing. The writing is sparse but not bleak – not a word or phrase is wasted. His poems have been described as having “a profound sense of place” and that is certainly true of his novels too. Raised in Northern Colorado and living in Wyoming, Galvin’s love of and responsibility towards this land are obvious. His characters are simple but not stupid. They inhabit a beautiful but unforgiving landscape. They encounter tragedy, loss, betrayal, love, joy, anger, laughter with the same stoic approach that makes self-pity unthinkable.
[b][i]Fencing the Sky[\b][\i] is the story of three men: Mike, Oscar and Ad who live on the land, love it and are held hostage by it. It is also the story of ranching in the West and the changes forced upon it by the changing times, politics and economics, the conflict between rancher and environmentalist who love and respect the land equally if differently, and the rapacious developers and “city folk” who don’t. In the words of Oscar, “So I’m not complaining. I don’t mind the work. Just let me do it. I don’t mind being invisible. I just don’t want to disappear.”
This is one of those perfect books that makes it difficult to pick up anything else afterwards.
Though it's a novel, this is a nice companion book to James Galvin's classic, the Meadow. You could almost think of it as part II as the time is closer to the present, and the end of the Meadow, at which point open land is being parceled and essentially destroyed, is the beginning of this book.
The book has an almsot Edward Abbey feel to it in terms of the changing landscape and different groups fighting over the same area. But where Abbey's concepts and ideas rise to the top, overpowering his writing style, James Galvin treats each word with the same care and warmth that he gives to his overarching theme.
Another great writer, Tom Spanbauer, says that every writer has to do three things with readers: "Teach them something, make them laugh, and break their hearts." This book will teach you about ranching and the American West, make you laugh your ass off with character descriptions and wild tales, and if it doesn't break your heart, your blood must be pumping through something harder than the granite under Wyoming's soil.
"He wanted her to experience the kind of conversation with nature that agriculture is: you ask a question and wait, maybe decades, for the answer. Maybe the answer is no"
I think this quote descirbes the book. It's about the relationship of men and nature, how they work together, communicate, and how nature talks back. And not only metaphorically speaking, sometimes Galvin does this: "They tied their horses to a wizened cedar tree that sang a dry song in the wind"
All the descriptions are full of poetry, not corny, it's never forced, it's always natural and meaningful.
Also I liked that Lyle, from The Meadow is mentioned a couple of times.
James Galvin knows how to write. The book reads a lot like how Wyoming feels. Galvin doesn’t waste words, and has the good poet’s ability to describe settings, characters and emotions with just the right amount oomph. If you’re a fan of “All the Pretty Horses” or Kent Haruf, I’d say check this book out.
The ranching way of life is disappearing from the Colorado Front Range as the area becomes another urban megalopolis, and "Fencing the Sky" is a lamentation for that loss and a celebration of the independent, land-based agrarian lifestyle that dominated the north-central Colorado/southeast Wyoming border for a century. The narrative focuses on Mike, an East Coast dropout who moves to the area and becomes a bona fide cowboy. In the first chapter, Mike kills a land speculator and the book traces Mike's escape into the remaining wild country to the west and north. In addition to tracing Mike's journey, the book follows the lives of two of his rural neighbors who grudgingly come to accept Mike's expertise as a cowboy: Ad, an emergency room physician, and Oscar, a veterinarian, both of whom are also ranchers. The book is told through a series of short anecdotes that jump around in time and space; though the anecdotes are anchored by dates, the structure is confusing. I recently moved to the area just south of where the book is set; the setting "feels" authentic and the locations in the book are real places. There is a lot of violence and unhappiness in the book; they, too, feel authentic, but don't leave a positive aftertaste.
In 2013, while finishing up my undergrad at BYU, I enrolled in "The American Novel" with Prof. Dennis Cutchins. I took the class on a whim and, looking back, I think it was the only English class I ever took in college. Which now strikes me as odd and a shame. The American Novel not only became my favorite course—excluding music ensembles, which never really felt like classes in the academic sense—but it proved to have the most lasting effect.
The course took as its theme Liminal Spaces: all the novels we read observed the Traveler navigating uncertainties in strange lands and in-between places. And so we followed John Grady Cole to Old Mexico, Ishmael out of the ports of Nantucket, Holden Caulfield through New York City, and half a dozen other sojourners across unknown frontiers.
At the end of the semester, Prof. Cutchins gave us a list of a dozen or so books that hadn't quite made the cut for that semester's syllabus. I decided to read them all. It's taken me longer than expected. Some of them were hard to track down. This was the last of them.
I found it well-written but unremarkable (two stars it was okay). It didn't speak to me, but it might speak to you.
Where Galvin's The Meadow described a way of life gone by, Fencing the Sky describes a way of life endangered, but not entirely gone. It opens with a murder with the narrative move forward and back in time as we learn more about Mike, who committed the murder and why and about the evil developer he murdered. I learned a lot about Wyoming ranch life and was moved by his loving descriptions of the land and his admiration for those who run their ranches upon it.
Somewhat more ambitious in its structure and more prosaic in its tone than Galvin's excellent first novel, The Meadow, but beautifully written nonetheless. I found myself thinking it would be an interesting challenge to adapt and, if it had not borne certain glancing resemblances to No Country for Old Men, could plausibly be the third entry in Joel and Ethan Coen's presumptive Western trilogy.
I so much wanted to give this book four stars. The region of Northern Colorado/Southern Wyoming is a place where I spent the greater part of the first quarter of my life. Unlike The Meadow where the description of the landscape was matched by the richness of the characters and compelling story, this book leaves too many deadends in story and character development. The polemic overtakes the art.
4 stars for the story, 2 stars for the format. I enjoyed the story as a whole, but the choppiness of the story was not helpful. If the story had gone back and forth in the timeline in bigger portions, and if the current time sections had at least something indicating the change of time, it would have been a much smoother read.
Not "The Meadow," but still a fine work about the West. And similar in that, though this book is much more plot-driven, it weaves an intricate web of times and connections. Can't help but relate this strange web of vignettes to a broken fence--I blame the evocative title, which, as I read, changed its meaning from, at first blush, a negative fence, to a more quixotic one: try as these ranchers may, they're losing the battle to keep their West intact, the one where good neighbors mend--and close!!--fences.
I felt some of the anger that motivates the opening murder during Galvin's many descriptions of the ranchetteers, who like customer service representatives are purposefully kept stupid by the bigwigs. So really you can only feel more frustration than anger because these people are victims as well. These conflicts remind me of the mesas here around Telluride, CO, and the array of characters--and their attendant egos--that make-up all HOAs.
The main characters, ultimately, propelled me through the book. I needed to find out the murderer's reckoning. Mike felt like an Ed Abbey character to me, like Hayduke's deceptively calmer cousin. Ad's ruminations often read like sections from "The Meadow." Snipes could have stepped out of a modernized--but still backwards--Faulkner story. Which is all to say, vivid characters abound.
My mother would have loved this book for its quirky, individualistic characters and for the many geographical references to the Colorado/Wyoming border country she so loved.
I'm enjoying the book, however, the piecemeal bytes about the many characters and the disjointed time line bug the heck out of me. It feels like watching a two-hour collection of unedited, hand-held camera shots. I figured that by the time I was half way through the book, I would have begun to understand the cuts and to keep the characters straight. Not. I reserve final judgement, but at this point I believe that the structure of the book suffers because of the overly jumbled time line.
Okay. So I have finished the book. I'm torn in my analysis. I gave it three stars because I did not "enjoy" this book much. That said, Galvin addresses many timely topics and explores some interesting philosophical ideas in this book. I will not spoil, other than to say I hated one aspect of the ending...but not the entire ending... You'll just have to read it to find out what I'm talking about.
A text about how lives are forged from the accretion of seemingly isolated events, Fencing the Sky is a powerful reminder of how land, in every aspect, dictates life in the American West. At the core of the novel is Mike Arans’s flight on horseback, the consequence of a mostly accidental murder. We piece together the larger import of the story via fragments of lives and actions spanning the fifty years prior, and in doing so we see not only why Mike was compelled to act in the manner that he did, but, more broadly, we witness a violent change to the way of life in this Northern CO / Southern WY valley. In addition to Galvin’s lyrical skills, Fencing the Sky is perhaps most impressive in its ability to at once show us the devastation of such rapid change as well as the danger (and futility) in being wholly unwavering in the face of such an inevitable shift.
I had a hard time reading it, much slower than my usual reads. That said, I think the author does a good job of evoking the emotions in the book through his words--in that sense it reminded me of Blindness. I think this is a good book for someone who likes the western genre and non-chronological story lines with some political soapbox thrown in for good measure.
I loved Mike's story and had the book just been Mike's story, with some of his friend's subplots, I would have enjoyed it much more. I would have enjoyed hearing more about the women, but they are more things that the male characters react to, than characters themselves.
I did give my book to a friend who grew up in Laramie, and I hope to visit the Sink/Rise someday.
What a great find! Fencing the Sky is a classic tale of the west. Those who enjoyed Cormac McCarthy's Border Trilogy and Larry McMurtry's Lonesome Dove will find much to appreciate in Fencing the Sky... but this time the story is a modern one. Here, people looking to escape the chaos of city life bring with them the development that ruins the peacefulness of the landscape that brought them there in the first place. James Galvin is first a poet, and it shows in this novel. His writing is beautiful and measured as he unravels this unforgettable tale of men, murder, and land. Recommended by Liz, Powells.com
The author is a poet who lives along the Wyoming-Colorado border. This, his first novel, tells of the clash between old time ranchers and the new 20 acre ranchette weekenders. The characters are well drawn, the plot carries you along, and the ending is completely unexpected and believable. The story is told is short vignettes that jump back and forth in time. I didn't love this aspect but I may reread it at some point the better understand the chronology. The prose is tight and, for me at least, clear, vivid, and memorable. None of Annie Proulx's tortured sentences. Several of the images---"dark as the inside of a rock"---are still with me.
I read this when it was first published over a decade ago. I originally gave it 4 stars. The Meadow 5 stars. But I find this book about people ceding their hearts to a glorious, god given, but ultimately unforgiving landscape keeps haunting me. I have moved from an easy living, magnificent landscape in Oregon to the Wasatch Mountains of Utah. From 500 ft elevation to 5,800 feet. I am surrounded by stunning landscape, awesome critters and the ragged vestiges of people who have tried to "fence the sky." Yes... This book deserves 5 stars.
Good story of the ranching area of Northern Colorado/Southern Wyoming changing from ranches to residential "40-acre ranchettes". The perspective of the men who were from the ranches was realistic, describing how they moved cattle in large, unfenced areas. Mr. Galvin described riding horses through the brush in ways that only a person riding a horse would know. The onset of a murder is an opening that keeps the reader very interested.