Ludlow is a novel in verse, meaning it has the speed, concision and accuracy of the best poetry, along with the expansiveness and character development of a novel. It tells the story of a handful of immigrants—Greek, Mexican, Scottish, Italian—in southern Colorado, climaxing in the Ludlow Massacre of April 1914, in which elements of the Colorado National Guard killed striking miners and family members.
The novel follows two primary characters: the fictional Luisa Mole, orphaned in the opening chapter, who must choose between life among the miners and the middle-class family who adopt her; and the historical figure Louis Tikas, a Cretan immigrant who, in the course of the book, becomes a labor organizer and a Ludlow martyr. But several minor characters—Too Tall MacIntosh, Lefty Calabrini, George Reed and his family, and even John D. Rockefeller, Jr.—also play significant roles in the book, which never succumbs to simplistic political pieties, but is engaged with identity and being.
I have also deliberately planted a version of the author in the book, guiding the story in time, allowing us to look at events from the vantage point of the whole century, and to understand both the personal import of the story to me and the profound difficulty of ever knowing the truth about such events. In a sense, the characters are more “grounded” and real than the author, who tells the story as a way of holding onto his own identity in the West. It’s as if the historical fictions of Tolstoy or Cormac McCarthy met the radical skepticism of Jorge Luis Borges with a cinematic vividness. Indeed, my prose Afterword quotes Borges’ call for a renewal of storytelling in verse. The book ends long after the massacre, with America changed by more wars and upheaval, in a scene where the author comes to know Luisa Mole more fully and imaginatively.
Finally, Ludlow is about language and landscape—the many languages that have named Colorado and America—the geographical memory of the nation.
This book-length poem (the author calls it a "verse novel") builds on the basic facts of the 1914 Ludlow Massacre, in which eighteen people (most of them women and children) were murdered by members of the Colorado National Guard, protecting the mining interests (and ideological commitments) of John D. Rockefeller. Along with the Sand Creek Massacre, it's among the most brutal episodes in Colorado history, and I've been a bit shocked at how many people I've mentioned it to have never heard of it. For that reason alone, Ludlow is worth reading, but it's also a tour-de-force performance, some 600 stanzas of iambic pentamer (mostly unrhymed) which flow with a vernacular sureness that recalls Frost's story poems ("Home Burial," "The Witche of Coos"). Mason freely mixes historical events with invented characters. While he doesn't hammer the political message, it's hard not to make connections between the events he describes and the current assaults on the dignity of working people (in and out of unions). There aren't a whole lot of lines that stick in memory, but well worth the time for anyone intersted in the literature of labor and/or the West.
Ludlow is a novel in verse, meaning it has the speed, concision and accuracy of the best poetry, along with the expansiveness and character development of a novel. It tells the story of a handful of immigrants—Greek, Mexican, Scottish, Italian—in southern Colorado, climaxing in the Ludlow Massacre of April 1914, in which elements of the Colorado National Guard killed striking miners and family members.
The novel follows two primary characters: the fictional Luisa Mole, orphaned in the opening chapter, who must choose between life among the miners and the middle-class family who adopt her; and the historical figure Louis Tikas, a Cretan immigrant who, in the course of the book, becomes a labor organizer and a Ludlow martyr. But several minor characters—Too Tall MacIntosh, Lefty Calabrini, George Reed and his family, and even John D. Rockefeller, Jr.—also play significant roles in the book, which never succumbs to simplistic political pieties, but is engaged with identity and being.
The author also appears in the book, guiding the story in time, allowing us to look at events from the vantage point of the whole century, and to understand both the personal import of the story and the profound difficulty of ever knowing the truth about such events. In a sense, the characters are more grounded and real than he is, as he tells the story in order to hold onto his own identity in the West. The book ends long after the massacre, with America changed by more wars and upheaval, in a scene where Mason comes to know Luisa Mole more fully and imaginatively.
Ludlow is a searing story told with great art, and a major contribution to the literature of the American West.
The fact that I live in Colorado might make me a little biased here, but nonetheless, Mason's verse novel is amazing. The tricky part about verse novels is the fact that they seem so short and simple, but there's oh so much more to them.
Peopled with characters fictional and real, Ludlow tells the story of the disastrous mining strike in southern Colorado in 1914, where the National Guard shot and killed strikers and their families as well, including several who were burned alive and smothered in a tent fire. It's not the happiest of tales by any means, but Mason makes his poetic vision of it straightforward, humane and completely indicative of what it means to be an immigrant to this country in 1914 or 2017. A dream is a dream, no matter what year it is.
Mason also pulls off a little stroke of genius by inserting himself into the plot at various times because his family has lived in the Ludlow area for four to five generations and so his claim to the land lends a special credence to his telling of the story.
I haven't read a lyric story since high school. Rather than an 800-page account of war or heroics, this felt like an American fable about a tragedy greater than Achilles' fate. The failure of government and law enforcement, the toxic greed of a nation, xenophobia and misogyny. Mason weaves in and out of the story of Ludlow to also give his own context as a Colorado local and drills down on the characters, their worlds, and what the events meant for the soul of the land.
Another terrible example of mans inhumanity to man in gripping narrative verse about the Ludlow coal field massacre of 1914. 18 men, women and children were killed by the Colorado National Guard. A violent chapter in the history of American labor. A story told in descriptive poetic verse.
Finally got to this as part of the 2022 #SealeyChallenge. This narrative poem is exactly the right approach to this horrific material. The poetic rendering gives it an urgency and compression that would perhaps otherwise make it hard to take, while allowing for the complexities and nuance. And artistic license though always in service of what I and I suppose the author would call truth.
If you don't know about the event in question, please google Ludlow Massacre and learn a little more about our bloody history as Americans. Even if there had been no massacre, this would be terrible. Because there was, there were martyrs. And Congress finally listened.
I took a while to read this book. I kept having to stop, ponder and share. I and my husband have family ties to the events at Ludlow. We often visit the memorial even over a century after these events. I have sometimes wondered at how the struggle for labor rights at the turn of the century isn't more prominently remembered. This book contributes to what we need to remember. People died, horribly, and unjustly, for all of our rights, I pray we remember these lessons and never need to repeat them.
The lyric quality of the poem helps carry the events to our imaginations in a personal way. I could picture the land and people as they lived through the conditions of their lives.
Disappointed because I really wanted to love this. The story of Ludlow in verse novel form?? Brilliant idea and right up my alley! And in many ways the story was told well, with some beautiful language. But the interjections of the author's first-person voice were done so poorly, so out of place and jarring that it ruined the whole thing for me. With a dozen pages to go, I though I would give it 3.5 stars bumped to 4, but then the way he ended the story of his fictional Luisa Mole just annoyed me more and it ends up at 3 stars. Ugh.
Honestly, this is really not a novel in verse. This is prose forced into poetic stanzas. The sterile approach to the characters is incredibly disappointing, especially the random injection of Luisa’s rapes.
If you asked me to read a verse novel about the early days of the labor movement in the mining industry, I'd probably give you an odd look. However, having now read Ludlow, I'd say that description would fall far short of the actual book. This is a lyrical but very humane story that blends facts and fiction to engage you in the people engaged in an epic human struggle over dignity and profits n small Colorado mining townsat the beginning of the 20th century. The characters are deftly draw, especially the immigrant miners from Greece, Bulgaria and and the Mexican/American girl Luisa who is an observer and ultimately participant in the story of this early union strike and its seemingly inevitable conclusion.
In an afterword, the author makes a passionate argument for the role of the verse narrative in our literature, and includes a quote from Borges: "...I think the epic will come back to us. I believe the poet shall once again be a maker. I mean, he will tell a story and he will also sing it. And we will not think of these two things as different, even as we do not think they are different in Homer or in Virgil."
Dave Mason taught a poetry writing class I took in college. Great guy. Great poet. I didn't realize he was such an excellent novelist. I loved this book more than I expected to love it. I loved the language and I got swept up in the characters and story. The fact that it's written in verse never distracts from the telling of the story. It enhances it. It's great historical fiction. And I appreciated the afterward and his arguments for the merits of verse used to tell a narrative. Michael Ondaatje's The Collected Works of Billy The Kid is another example of an excellent verse-novel historical fiction piece. Also highly recommended.
I learned about Colorado coal mining when working on a photo archiving project for Lafayette Public Library. The northern coal fields were not as rich, nor did they employee as many workers as those in southern Colorado, and so avoided much of the labor disputes and violence. Still and all, what a way to make a living. I loved the sense of place and landscape Mason creates--I could feel the wind and dust. And so interesting that the character he creates, who holds the story together, is not a miner at all. Just beautiful.
This historical narrative is written entirely in verse. It tells the story of the Colorado miner's strike at Trinidad in the early 1900's, and the killing of 18 strikers, women and children by the Colorado National Guard. David Mason, a poet whose family is from the area, writes compellingly in blank verse; the story of the miners is woven with brief interludes of Mason's own story. A great book for people interested in history or poetry.
Truly amazing. A novel written entirely in verse...Mason, currently the Poet Laureate of Colorado, has written a modern-day lyrical poem about one of the most sacred and important labor strikes in American history. He is deeply and personally invested in the story, and it shows in the writing. A stunning and imaginative accomplishment both technically and creatively. The artistry of what he has done is truly remarkable.
Not sure how to rank this -- it absorbed me. It moved along quickly, for an epic-type poem. Mason writes of the tragedy of the Ludlow, Colorado coal miners' strike.... a place associated with his youth. Lots to think about here. And all in iambic pentameter, to boot. But, but, but...
I was reluctant to even purchase the book, but when I understood the depth that went into personalizing a real history through poetry, I was enraptured by it.
Beautifully crafted narrative poem which tells the story of a violent strike in a Colorado mine in the early 20th century. It reads like an old-fashioned ballad.