The Shootist by Glendon Swarthout
"The Shootist," written by Glendon Swarthout, tells the poignant story of John Bernard Books, the last iconic gunfighter, as he confronts mortality in El Paso, Texas. Set against the backdrop of January 22, 1901—the day Queen Victoria died—the narrative explores Books's struggle with terminal cancer, which serves as a metaphor for the fading Old West. As he grapples with his illness, Books becomes a reluctant figure of fascination and fear for the townspeople, particularly for Mrs. Bond Rogers, who unwittingly rents him a room.
The plot thickens as Books's presence attracts opportunists and would-be assassins, leading to violent confrontations that highlight his complex character. Books embodies a strict personal code, even as he wrestles with the moral implications of his violent past and the consequences it brings to those around him. The novel delves into themes of reputation, legacy, and the often harsh realities of life, showcasing a cast of characters motivated by greed and self-interest. Ultimately, "The Shootist" examines the intersection of bravery and brutality, illustrating the inevitable decline of an era through the lens of its last great gunman.
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The Shootist by Glendon Swarthout
Excerpted from an article in Magill’s Survey of American Literature, Revised Edition
First published: 1975
Type of work: Novel
The Work
The Shootist is as much a story of the end of the Old West as it is the story of John Bernard Books, the last famous living gunman, whose passing will mark the end of an era. On January 22, 1901, the day of the English queen Victoria’s death, Books rides into El Paso, Texas, to consult a doctor he trusts, only to discover that he is dying of cancer of the prostate—inoperable, incurable, and unimaginably painful. Books cannot move on; he has come to the end of the road in El Paso, but clearly he is an unwanted anachronism. The town, represented by Marshal Thibido, would be more comfortable if Books had picked another place to die. Like the marshal, the citizens are both fearful and fascinated by Books, royalty in his own right, a living legend of a bygone era.
Books has rented a room from Mrs. Bond Rogers, a widowed woman who is struggling to make ends meet by taking in boarders. She is unaware of the reputation of her houseguest, who in self-parody tells her he is William Hickok, United States marshal of Abilene, Kansas; however, her son knows that Hickok has been dead for more than two decades, and he recognizes the famous custom-made .44 Remingtons carried by the legendary shootist J. B. Books. The interplay between these characters as Books moves toward death gives the narrative depth and dimension.
Bond Rogers finds herself both attracted to and repelled by Books—repelled by the violence he brings to her home and attracted by his courage in the face of an adversary against whom he cannot prevail. As the word spreads that Books is in El Paso and that he is a dying man, he is plagued by parasites and reputation hunters. When a couple of would-be assassins try to ambush Books in bed, there is a shootout that results in the bloody death of Books’s assailants and the flight of the widow Rogers’s remaining tenants. She upbraids Books for being a vicious killer, but Books points out, quite reasonably, that his victims were in the process of trying to kill him. She struggles with the ambivalence of her feelings and with her fear that Books will become a terrible model for her son Gillom, who already is showing signs of becoming one of the local toughs.
Books becomes remorseful for the trouble that he has brought to the Rogers’s home. In an effort to make up for the lost revenue, he cleverly takes advantage of those who would seek to profit from his death. The undertaker who offers Books a free funeral in the hope of making money from putting the corpse on display finds that Books is wise to his game. Books charges him a fee for the privilege of conducting his funeral. He sees through the photographer’s offer of a free portrait as well, charging him a fee for the photograph, which he is bound to copy and sell. He feels more kindly toward a secondhand man who is more candid about his motive for the purchase of his last effects.
Swarthout’s cynicism is relentless, as a tenderly remembered lover from Books’s past pays him a visit with an offer of marriage. It turns out that she has been offered a deal to have a book written in her name—or, rather, in the name of J. B. Books’s widow. Even the preacher hopes to capitalize on Books’s plight. He offers him salvation for a signed statement of repentance, for he would be the preacher who saved the soul of J. B. Books, killer and sinner extraordinaire. The shallow opportunism of the denizens of the new age is in painful contrast to the often ruthless Books, who lives by a Spartan code: “I will not be laid a hand on. I will not be wronged. I will not stand for an insult. I don’t do these things to others. I require the same from them.”
When Books presses Doc Hostetler into revealing the extent of the agony awaiting him, Hostetler tells Books that he will go out screaming no matter how brave he is, unless he is lucky enough to slip into a coma. Hostetler plants the seed of suicide, but Books chooses another way. Marshal Thibido had warned him that El Paso holds more than one tough who would like to make a name for himself by being the man who killed J. B. Books. Books sends separate invitations to three of the worst of El Paso’s citizens to meet him at the Constantinople Saloon: Pulford, a gambler who prides himself on having shot a man through the heart at a distance of more than eighty feet; Serrano, a cattle thief, killer, and molester of children; and Cobb, an impotent punk who hurts prostitutes. These are to be his adversaries in a final confrontation; John Bernard Books does not plan to die alone.
Throughout the novel, Books has taken grim comfort from the newspaper reporting Queen Victoria’s death that he purchased as he entered El Paso. He wryly observes that it is a newspaper that he has had time to read. He perceives a parallel between his passing and the passing of an era that will later come to be known as Victorian, but he is not vain enough to think that his life has been important. As he steps through the swinging doors of the Constantinople, he takes satisfaction in the thought that even though his life did not amount to much, his death will be remembered for some time, for there is still a lot of John Bernard Books left to kill.
The Shootist reveals Swarthout at his narrative best. The action is suffused with dark humor and the revelation of characters who are both interesting and complex. Books does not prove to have a heart of gold, but he does stand above those who seek his end. His ruthlessness, flamboyance, and flinty integrity are a part of the age in which he lived.
Bibliography
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“Glendon Swarthout.” In The Writers Directory, 1992-1994. Detroit: St. James Press, 1992.
“Glendon (Fred) Swarthout.” In Contemporary Literary Criticism. Vol. 35, edited by Daniel G. Marowski. Detroit: Gale Research, 1985.
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