Review: I Am Billy the Kid by Michael Blouin
Vancouver: Anvil Press (2022)
My Quick Take: A novel both thoughtful and ponderous…kind of like the main character Billy. Both the book and the character snuck up on me and made me like them very much.
Thanks to the author for a gifted copy.
***
“Look, I know I’m wandering around a little here on my subject matter, but this is my book. You can come along if you want or you can fuck off and write your own.”
-Billy the Kid, in I Am Billy the Kid
When author Michael Blouin offered to send me a copy of his 2022 novel I Am Billy the Kid, I was pretty quick to accept, because I’ve learned a fair amount about the Kid in recent years. This is mostly due to the influence of my daughter, who loves history generally, but has an interest in the Wild West period as well as the gold rush era. In fact, our last family trip before the 2020 pandemic was a road trip in New Mexico, where we visited Lincoln, a town Billy spent time in, including his escape from jail and a devastating fire.
Blouin offers a fresh fictional take on Billy the Kid, and I’m going to be recommending it, particularly if you’re interested in the history surrounding William Bonney (aka Billy the Kid). There's been persistent debate about whether or not he actually died at the hands of sheriff Pat Garrett, though the supposition that he may not have died when he was supposed to runs head on into conspiracy theory territory. You’d do well to read a quick biography of Billy, even Wikipedia, prior to reading this novel, as it will help with context.
Here, Billy is now in his fifties, and he and his brother Joseph have begun their journey on horseback to Canada, where Joseph has bought some land and a cabin where they can live the rest of their lives in peaceful obscurity. On the way they meet a man and his daughter, Turner, and the Bonney brothers assist them in the search for Turner’s older sister, who has been kidnapped by two markedly awful men.
There was lots to like in this novel, and much of it is down to Billy’s character and voice. Billy’s inner life does much of the heavy lifting in the book, as most of the novel is from his first-person point of view. Billy has a particular worldview that I liked very much. He’s done a lot of shooting and killing, but that part of his life is referenced only occasionally, and it’s clear Billy has left that life behind. That said, he’s not apologetic, and he doesn’t question his own choices or spend time with guilt. It would do no good, I imagine this Billy would tell the reader. What’s done is done and all we have is what is right now.
What I liked the best, then, was this Billy the Kid philosophy. I think the book could have been subtitled: “The collected musings of William Bonney” or the like. Here are some examples:
“I have been told that God is a great believer in justice. My guess is that he is not always paying close attention to what goes on down here then.”
“I have found that there are no friendly strangers in the desert at night.”
“Though I am very sad a lot of the time, I breathe, continue to breathe, I see angels flying with round open mouths like the slivered black ends of gun barrels calling back to us, ‘There is news, there is good news!’ but there is no good news and there are no angels.”
“I don’t hold myself up higher than anyone else but some men are just so low that it doesn’t leave much in the way of room not to. I mean that some men just need dealing with.”
“We are always thinking that life will be better if, and when, and if only we…But life is right here and not somewhere on down the road ahead of us or behind us. It’s right here in front of us all the time and winning it is nothing. Winning is just something we make up in our heads and then we try to make fit into the real world. It does not.”
The language in this book is hypnotic and beautiful to read much of the time. The relaxed, ponderous pacing reflects Billy’s laconic even-temperedness. This book is not one that you can rush through if you want to fully appreciate its impact; it’s best to spend time with each chapter, and let yourself read at Billy’s pace. I liked that about it: it forced me to slow down a bit.
Billy has a lot to say about women, often repeating that women are inherently better creatures than men, even though he doesn't claim to understand them very well. He is attracted to the young woman Turner in ways that confuse him. Sexually at first, as this is how he has often related to women, then changing into something more akin to a fatherly friendship, though it remains enigmatic. Turner, too, has a say in this and lets Billy know that he’s not the only person in this dyad. Turner is tough and guarded, a woman who knows she’s vulnerable but doesn’t let it change her behaviour.
Indeed, Blouin has skilfully created a world that is perpetually unsafe, harrowing, and violent. It seems unavoidable given Billy’s gunslinger persona, but he goes an extra step in creating a villain, Caleb, who is so awful that I felt uneasy when he was on the page. I didn’t like his particular brand of violence, which targeted anyone in his way, but especially women. He had a high-minded sadistic nature, with a touch of the carnival barker that was a highly effective but disturbing addition to the novel. A crucial one for the story, don’t get me wrong, but there was once scene that had my eyes skipping over some paragraphs as his description of sexual violence felt so real. So trigger warning for that. [see my Author Chat with Michael Blouin coming later this week for our discussion around this topic]
Michael Blouin has been a finalist for the Amazon First Novel Award, the bpNichol Award, and the CBC Literary Award. He has been the recipient of the Lilian I. Found Award, the Diana Brebner Award, and the Archibald Lampman Award. His novel Chase and Haven won the ReLit Award for Best Novel, an award he received again for his novel Skin House. He is an instructor at the University of Toronto, a guest lecturer for Carleton University, and serves as an adjudicator for both the Ontario Arts Council and the Canada Council for the Arts. Several of his books have been included in recent NASA lunar landings.
Blouin offers a fresh fictional take on Billy the Kid, and I’m going to be recommending it, particularly if you’re interested in the history surrounding William Bonney (aka Billy the Kid). There's been persistent debate about whether or not he actually died at the hands of sheriff Pat Garrett, though the supposition that he may not have died when he was supposed to runs head on into conspiracy theory territory. You’d do well to read a quick biography of Billy, even Wikipedia, prior to reading this novel, as it will help with context.
Here, Billy is now in his fifties, and he and his brother Joseph have begun their journey on horseback to Canada, where Joseph has bought some land and a cabin where they can live the rest of their lives in peaceful obscurity. On the way they meet a man and his daughter, Turner, and the Bonney brothers assist them in the search for Turner’s older sister, who has been kidnapped by two markedly awful men.
There was lots to like in this novel, and much of it is down to Billy’s character and voice. Billy’s inner life does much of the heavy lifting in the book, as most of the novel is from his first-person point of view. Billy has a particular worldview that I liked very much. He’s done a lot of shooting and killing, but that part of his life is referenced only occasionally, and it’s clear Billy has left that life behind. That said, he’s not apologetic, and he doesn’t question his own choices or spend time with guilt. It would do no good, I imagine this Billy would tell the reader. What’s done is done and all we have is what is right now.
What I liked the best, then, was this Billy the Kid philosophy. I think the book could have been subtitled: “The collected musings of William Bonney” or the like. Here are some examples:
“I have been told that God is a great believer in justice. My guess is that he is not always paying close attention to what goes on down here then.”
“I have found that there are no friendly strangers in the desert at night.”
“Though I am very sad a lot of the time, I breathe, continue to breathe, I see angels flying with round open mouths like the slivered black ends of gun barrels calling back to us, ‘There is news, there is good news!’ but there is no good news and there are no angels.”
“I don’t hold myself up higher than anyone else but some men are just so low that it doesn’t leave much in the way of room not to. I mean that some men just need dealing with.”
“We are always thinking that life will be better if, and when, and if only we…But life is right here and not somewhere on down the road ahead of us or behind us. It’s right here in front of us all the time and winning it is nothing. Winning is just something we make up in our heads and then we try to make fit into the real world. It does not.”
The language in this book is hypnotic and beautiful to read much of the time. The relaxed, ponderous pacing reflects Billy’s laconic even-temperedness. This book is not one that you can rush through if you want to fully appreciate its impact; it’s best to spend time with each chapter, and let yourself read at Billy’s pace. I liked that about it: it forced me to slow down a bit.
Billy has a lot to say about women, often repeating that women are inherently better creatures than men, even though he doesn't claim to understand them very well. He is attracted to the young woman Turner in ways that confuse him. Sexually at first, as this is how he has often related to women, then changing into something more akin to a fatherly friendship, though it remains enigmatic. Turner, too, has a say in this and lets Billy know that he’s not the only person in this dyad. Turner is tough and guarded, a woman who knows she’s vulnerable but doesn’t let it change her behaviour.
Indeed, Blouin has skilfully created a world that is perpetually unsafe, harrowing, and violent. It seems unavoidable given Billy’s gunslinger persona, but he goes an extra step in creating a villain, Caleb, who is so awful that I felt uneasy when he was on the page. I didn’t like his particular brand of violence, which targeted anyone in his way, but especially women. He had a high-minded sadistic nature, with a touch of the carnival barker that was a highly effective but disturbing addition to the novel. A crucial one for the story, don’t get me wrong, but there was once scene that had my eyes skipping over some paragraphs as his description of sexual violence felt so real. So trigger warning for that. [see my Author Chat with Michael Blouin coming later this week for our discussion around this topic]
Interestingly, the novel has at its core a feminist sensibility, and one that nods towards both redemption and just rewards in turn. The undercurrent of peril and violence is absolutely needed as a foil to Billy and his inherent goodness. For in the end, the heart of the novel is Billy and his steadfast commitment to Turner and her wellbeing. In allowing him to be her saviour, she has in turn saved him, and so the bargain is mutual.
In supposing a different future for Billy the Kid, Blouin explores the possibility of redemption and forgiveness in a way that is earned, not just handed out. His book is a challenging read in some ways as it juxtaposes the horrific and the beautiful, and became one that I won't soon forget. This is a fascinating novel that takes the time needed to create a character in a fictional reimagining of Billy the Kid that genuinely moved me.
***
Comments
Post a Comment