Han has been reading all these Westerns lately and I must have caught the bug. And boy, did this one delight! Easily a top read of the year.
One of my favorite litt professors once shared a probably apocryphal tale about Victor Hugo's son, who allegedly expressed disappointment that his father made a Catholic priest the hero of "Les Misérables." The elder Hugo reportedly replied, "There is no greater insult to the Catholic Church than showing them a priest who does his job in loving people." Similarly, Lawrence Wright crafts a lovable, down to earth, moderate Republican in his novel "Mr. Texas," offering a sympathetic yet critical lens on the political landscape. Through Sonny Lamb, Wright critiques the Republican Party's flaws while highlighting the humanity of his warmhearted protagonist, contrasting him with real life figures like Dan Patrick, Tim Dunn, and Donald Trump.
Wright's portrayal of Sonny vividly captures the disillusionment that often follows when idealism collides with the murky realities of governance. This theme resonates deeply with me. Long before I felt a call to ministry, I immersed myself in politics—serving as Chaplain and later president of the DBU College Republicans, helping to bring Col. Allen West to campus, lobbying with student advocacy groups, and interning on several campaigns. Over time, I witnessed the darker side of politics and began to feel disillusioned. The rise of a certain TV personality in 2016 intensified my disillusionment, and like Sonny, I felt abandoned by the party I had invested in. I chased a dream that, in the end, wasn’t what I truly wanted, placing eternal value on temporary things.
Wright skillfully navigates this tension. Although the novel features absurd moments, his critique of the political system remains sharp. The characters leap off the page, the satire bites, and beneath it all lies a genuine sense of humanity, making "Mr. Texas" both entertaining and thought-provoking.
At its core, "Mr. Texas" serves as a love letter to the Lone Star State. Wright creates a believable world, capturing the rolling hills of Central Texas, the vast openness of the West, and the blended cultures of South Texas. While I am known to wear pearl snaps and drink Shiner, I definitely don’t consider myself a Texas patriot. However, "Mr. Texas" stirred in me a deep connection to the state's mythic allure.
Wright structures the narrative through small vignettes reminiscent of Sandra Cisneros, my favorite Texana author. The primary narration flows from Sonny, but Wright occasionally pulls back to offer a third person omniscient view, enriching our understanding of the characters' inner thoughts. Many vignettes begin in media res and often leaves conflicts unresolved, enhancing the storytelling’s brilliance.
The prose dazzles. It’s hard to believe Wright is a journalist because "Mr. Texas" reads like poetry. In one early scene at a Capitol grounds barbecue, he introduces two key characters. One a Tea Party conservative of considerable means, and a newly elected African American Republican. I found myself rereading that passage several times, marveling at how Wright makes his vignettes feel like lived experiences. The emotions come alive, the characters feel lifelike, and the events seem entirely plausible.
Wright himself contemplated running for governor as a Democrat, and the novel is certainly synthetic to several Democratic causes. Yet, it consistently reminds readers that most Texans, regardless of party, seek moderation and reason, wanting what’s best for the state. While the Democrats in the novel are almost exclusively shown in a positive light, they also are quick to remind us that republicans who disagree with them are still human beings who want what’s best for the state. The book, pushes back against Dominionism, QAnon, Big Oil, Dan Patrick, and allure of Donald Trump. But the novel reminds the reader several times that Republicans can still be conservative, vote for conservative causes, love God, and faithfully practice their religion without giving into the more radical pressures of the party. After all, most Texans are rather moderate.
"Mr. Texas" felt particularly relevant as we prepare to head to the ballot boxes in less than a month. As political temperatures rise, Wright’s novel reminds us of the humanity on both sides of the aisle. It’s easy to demonize our political adversaries, but Wright illustrates that, at their core, they are people who genuinely wish to do what they believe is right for their communities. While I am probably not going to vote red in the upcoming presidential election, I’m also not going to support the blue candidate either. Down ticket, I support candidates from both parties in different races. I pray our political climate cools down, and books like "Mr. Texas" might just help us get there.