Telegraph Days

McMurtry fondly, if not originally, evokes the post-Civil War West in this loosely organized story told by spunky Nellie Courtright. Brought to life by actress Annie Potts, Nellie tells how she and her brother seek their fortune on their own after the suicide of their father. With all the appeal of a tall tale, the story intersperses a quirky cast of fictional characters with such historical figures as Buffalo Bill, Wild Bill Hickok, the Earp brothers, Doc Holliday, and Billy the Kid. Potts flawlessly narrates as though recounting her personal experience, using an understated Western accent that balances McMurtry's characteristic humor and exaggeration. This is an enjoyable example of an audiobook improving on its print version. S.K. [Editor's Note: A soundreview is available at Audiopolis, www.audiofilemagazine.com] (c) AudioFile 2006, Portland, Maine

March 6, 2006
McMurtry's latest skips through western lore with a wry smile. Marie Antoinette "Nellie" Courtright and her brother, Jackson, bereft of family after their Virginia clan dies off one by one, arrive in Rita Blanca in 1876, in what would become the Oklahoma Panhandle, to remake themselves. Jackson is made a deputy sheriff and Nellie takes over the telegraph office. In short order, Jackson shoots down an entire gang of outlaws, and Nellie promptly writes it up to launch a lucrative literary career. Other adventures await: she becomes manager of Buffalo Bill's Wild West Show, boldly faces down Jesse James's attempt to rob her and witnesses the gunfight at the O.K. Corral. She becomes mayor of Rita Blanca, a mother of six and, later, friends with Lillian Gish and William B. Mayer. Beautiful and sexually insatiable, Nellie is a witty, sophisticated, accomplished, cunning, impudent and highly improbable woman—more than a match for any man she meets, which isn't saying much, since they're all idiots. She also is little more than a reworking of several previous McMurtry heroines, especially The Berrybender Narratives'
Tasmin. This tale is contrived, episodic and lacks cohesion, and its constant comedy is self-conscious. But most readers won't be able to help cracking a smile over McMurtry's 38th book, as purposely over-the-top as an episode of South Park
.