Horace was alone in the city and he realized that being alone in the city was worse than being alone on the ranch. Because when he was alone on the ranch he had the dream of the city, the dream of what he would become in the city. But now he was there and he was still alone. He was just himself in another place.
‘But I don’t care anymore, Mr. Reese. Every night I’m here, I hope I get run over or stabbed or shot or thrown in prison. That’s how I feel.’
‘I’d be tired too, if I were you,’ the old man said. ‘It’s hard to hate yourself every single day, and it’s hard to try and be something you’re not. Both of those take their toll.’
— Willy Vlautin Don’t skip out on me
Have I ever before that I love Willy Vlautin? That he is one of the best authors I’ve ever read? One of my favorite authors ever? Well, now I did.
Horace will be somebody
At 21, Horace Hopper works as a farm hand in a small town in Nevada for an elderly couple, Mr. and Mrs. Reese. Coming from a broken home, the Reeses are a sort of adopted family to him and they love him like a son. Mr. Reese sees huge potential in him as his potential successor on the ranch. However, Horace wants to prove himself to the world, the parents who abandoned him, the people who looked down on him for being half-white, half-Paiute Indian and coming from a difficult background, and also the Reeses, to prove to them he is worth their love and goodwill.
Insisting on making his own way, Horace becomes Hector Hidalgo, casting off his mixed origins and reemerging as Mexican Boxer Hector Hidalgo, destined for success. Anyone who knows Vlautin also knows that Horace will be facing difficulties, to put it mildly. It takes Mr. Reese everything and more to bring him back to where he belongs, not only literally but also mentally. Because Horace is looking for his place in this world, his place in his world, a place he deserves, a place he feels worth inhabiting. And at times it can be quite difficult to find one’s place — again and again.
Horace goes all in
Like in his other books, Vlautin again tells the story of the underdog, the outsider, a person so hurt, so desperate, so lonely on the inside, yet so tough and headstrong on the outside. Having already lost so much that is familiar to most of us — family, companionship, security — Horace feels the need to cut the last threads to his old life and start anew, to prove to everyone and most of all himself that he can be so much more than what he had been in the past. This urge to conquer one’s world is typical for someone in their early 20s. However, Horace has a clear vision of what he wants to achieve, completely reinventing himself to step into a new life, like a snake shedding its skin, leaving behind the disappointments of his past. Hector will save his life and his honor, no one else.
Starting a new life also means leaving the Reeses behind, and all three, Horace, Mr. and Mrs. Reese, feel the loss. Mr. Reese relies heavily on Horace’s excellent work and has a hard time finding any replacement at all. More severe is the loss the elderly couple feels on a personal, emotional level. With their own daughters long gone and not interested in taking over the ranch, Mr. Reese puts a lot of hope in Horace. Understanding that he has to follow his dream to make it big as a boxer, he lets him go, even supports him, yet he also hopes that Horace finally comes to his senses and realizes that he has nothing to prove to anyone. That he is a wonderful person just the way he is. A difficult endeavor for either one of them.
Vlautin at his best…again
Again, Vlautin tells the story of an underdog who wants to make it no matter what. Again, this is not just about our main character, Horace. It is also about an elderly rancher who has so much to give — quite literally — but can only wait and see and at best, be there for Horace in his worst moments. It’s about the people in Horace’s life, the people who made him, broke him, and the ones who are there when he is not. Not a huge cast, but a diverse one.
Wanting to reinvent himself, Horace first has to leave behind everyone and everything from his old life. In doing so, he finds himself alone in the big city/cities. Even boarding at his aunt’s brings no improvement as she doesn’t care about him at all. Finding that even though he is Hector now, he still has Horace within him, and neither of them has an easy time connecting to others. He finds a trainer, he works on his body, his fitness, has his first fights…and nothing goes according to plan. As it so often does in life, and even more often in Willy Vlautin’s books.
Be it Frank and Jerry Lee in Motel Life, Allison Johnson in Northline, Leroy, Freddie, and Pauline in The Free or Horace and Mr. Reese in Don’t skip out on me, Vlautin’s focus on people at the margin, where they are hardly seen and even less heard, makes his novels a compelling trip to a “Land of the Free” that is anything but. These are quiet stories, quiet voices of people fighting for their lives, sanity, existence. Taking just one wrong turn, meeting the wrong people, making wrong decisions, and everything could fall apart — if they stop fighting.
Overwhelmed, yet happy
Reading Vlautin is a tour de force for me, in the best possible way. I can lose myself in his stories, feel for his characters, see parallels with people I know, people I knew, and even myself. It’s not just reading a book, it’s experiencing several lives and fates in about 300 pages. He is one of my favorite authors for a reason, and I love every one of his books I’ve read so far. (The only one missing is Lean on Pete, solely because I have a hard time with stories focusing on an animal-human relationship because I’m just too friggin’ emotional for that.) Having read a lot of war literature, a genre that is ripe with the underdog trope and stories from the margins of (any) society, as well as Charles Bukowski, an author who is the epitome of underdog, I’m always there for these stories. So I’ll always be there for Willy Vlautin.
As so often with Vlautin’s books, I had to cry at the end. Like, hard. That’s the Vlautin effect in my life. Enlightening my mind with engrossing stories all the while destroying my mood like there’s no tomorrow. And it’s worth it every single time.
If you’ve never read Willy Vlautin, go get yourself at least one of his books — I can recommend every single one — and keep reading until you know what I’m talking about. Trust me, it’s that good. Being the frontman of Richmond Fontaine and the songwriter of The Delines, Northline comes with a soundtrack (I got the CD in the back cover of the book in 2008) as does Don’t skip out on me, which I listen to on Spotify. This makes for a well-rounded reading (and listening) experience.
Now go ahead and read some Vlautin. Then come back and tell me what you think about it 🙂