BACK

There is my endless backlog of books to be read. It lies in the piles by the chair, on the desk, on the bedside table, in the back seat, on the "official" reading list, and on the "unofficial" reading list that exists in a scattering of scratched out notes to myself that seem to follow me about. It does make me anxious at times, but it also brings some measure of comfort, a guarantee of sorts. There is always another book to be read.

Then there are the surprises. The titles and authors I jot down and keep bypassing for whatever inane reason or other. Every now and then, I come across a book in the library or in a store and remember that it is one that I meant to read. Years ago. And it will turn out to be a book of such merit that I begin to find it auspicious that I saved it for later without ever meaning to. As if there are certain books that come and go and then find their way back to me.

So it was with Leif Enger's So Brave, Young, and Handsome. I read Enger's first and only other novel, Peace Like a River, when it was still new and enjoyed it enough to be eager to read So Brave when it published, though it ended up relegated to my own remainder pile. Enger is from Minnesota and he writes with that straightforward Midwestern sensibility and with a sparse richness that might be called elegant in its own way. It is the kind of working in words that I particularly favor.

This novel reads like a song. The best reference I can offer as example that you might recognize is that of Charles Portis with True Grit. You likely remember the movie recently remade and originally starring John Wayne, but you may not know that it first found life as a book, one that you should read, of course. If you have read the book or seen the movie -- in which, thankfully, the original lines of dialogue are salvaged nearly word-for-word -- then you know of the peculiar use of language that sets it apart and makes it so enjoyable. The characters speak in a way that is poetic and earthy, almost Shakespearean. And while you quickly take note of its high-mindedness, it does not seem at all out of the ordinary. You find yourself wondering why we do not all speak this way, because it sure makes for a far more interesting discourse. It also builds a narrative that is tough and sharp and literary and still altogether believable.

And, like True Grit, Enger's book is a bit of a cowboy tale. You know I like those. Though it involves few horses, there is much traveling and outlawing and campfires and a bit of Spanish spoken. But, do not let that steer you away from it if you are not as inclined as I toward such things. There is much to love here -- the plain and the scrubby country that shines in the background always and the characters who are crafted as solidly as woodwork and the dialogue that dances. It is also a melodious story of true friendship and of finding the things we did not know we sought. And it is about writers.

Though I did not mean to save it for later, I am glad that I did. It was worth the wait.