In Guy Vanderhaeghe’s latest novel, The Englishman’s Boy, two seemingly disparate narratives intersect to form an impressive whole. Related in alternating chapters, the first tale centres on the Englishman’s boy, a young man who ends up in a posse of cowboys chasing Indians suspected of horse stealing. From the spartan meals of biscuits and dried meat, to the rawhide ropes used to lash together a river raft, Vanderhaeghe relies on exquisite details to produce a startling story. The effect is a captivating portrait of the lawlessness and violence of the 1870s. What also emerges is an understanding of the reasons a chasm existed between natives and whites. Vanderhaeghe is not interested in casting blame or choosing sides, but rather in exposing events from two distinct perspectives. This he achieves without sacrificing story. Though never didactic, The Englishman’s Boy delivers an excellent history lesson.
The second story takes place in Hollywood during the 1920s and is a first-person account of a hack title writer, Harry Vincent, who is plucked out of obscurity by the studio’s enigmatic head, Damon Ira Chance, and given the task of finding a cowboy named Shorty McAdoo. Vanderhaeghe uses the fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants ethos of the motion picture industry during its infancy as a backdrop to examine the struggle of a young man trying to reconcile integrity with ambition.
