This is actually a triptych of novellas, of which the title novella is the last, by Jim Harrison. It is the second-best in the collection, in my opinion. But that’s not saying all that much. I was thoroughly underwhelmed. Enough so that I quite wading through The Man Who Gave Up His Name about halfway. Revenge was a pretty prosaic looking at vendetta, and the title novella was of interest primarily because of the movie.
I remember liking the movie pretty well when it came out. I’d have to watch it again, but this could be one of those very rare cases when the movie is better than the book.
Having said that, there were a couple sections worth dog-earing.
From The Legends of The Fall:
Oddly, and like many men compelled to adventure with no interest in adventure but only a restlessness of the body and spirit , Tristan did not see anything particularly extraordinary about his past seven years. But he had an extravagantly accurate idea of what the table wanted to hear so he talked on for his father.
Many old men in Culiacan still spoke of his father and despite Tibey’s great wealth they did not give him remotely equal honor. Tibey, shrewd as he was, owned an idealistic streak and dreamed in his youth of leading some preposterous insurrection. He lived as a victim, albeit prosperous, of those dreams he built at age nineteen when all of us reach our zenith of idealistic nonsense. Nineteen is the age of the perfect foot soldier who will die without a murmur, his heart aflame with patriotism. Nineteen is the age at which the brain of a nascent poet in his rented room soars the highest, suffering gladly the assault of what he thinks is the god in him. Nineteen is the last year that a young woman will marry purely for love. And so on. Dreams are soul chasers, and forty years later Tibey was feeling cornered.