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12 of 13 people found the following review helpful:
3.0 out of 5 stars
"To live here it sure helps if you are half cow...", 12 Jun 2003
Stating that "nothing of the original prairie remain[s]," Proulx presents the Texas Panhandle through the eyes of 25-year-old Bob Dollar, a newcomer, who sees railroad tracks, grain elevators, drive-in restaurants, "welcome to" signs with mottoes, a plywood Jesus, irrigation rigs, condensation tanks, fences, and not incidentally, long, gray hog farms, with their effluent lagoons in the rear, the stench overpowering the grasslands for miles around.Hired by Global Pork Rind to find the acreage needed for additional hog farms, Bob ingratiates himself with the townsfolk of the Panhandle town of Woolybucket, posing as a buyer of land for luxury housing. His meetings with cutely named townsfolk-Francis Scott Keister, Tater and Ace Crouch, Jerky Baum, Pecan Flagg, Blowy Cluck, Coolbroth Fronk, and Waldo Beautyrooms--and his discovery of their stories constitute the loose primary plot of this novel, which more closely resembles a quirky collection of short stories than a fully developed novel. "Eccentricities were valued and cultivated" here, but none of these earthy folk are eccentric enought to want more hog farms. Proulx raises some big issues here, such as the alarming depletion of the water table in the Panhandle, the pollution from oil fields and chemical plants, and the illnesses associated with proximity to hog farms, but she keeps her narrative from becoming polemical by weaving these into other threads about windmill-building, quilting, cock-fighting, social life in the local diner, and plans for the upcoming Barbwire Festival. She keeps things light and amusing, using the eccentricities of her characters and the setting to spice up her narrative about their not-very-interesting lives. Proulx is a real pro in controlling the pace of the novel. Whenever it starts to bog down or threaten to become dull, she gives us a new, outrageous name or an amusing digression (like the one about a lightbulb cemetery), or references to Bob's uncle's collection of "art plastic," or the visit of Bob's ex-con friend who, with some friends, made a recording of flatulent "Rock Hits From Prison." All these save the novel from being prairie-flat, as Bob tries to save his job without hurting the people he meets. The book is entertaining, and its feel-good ending, which explains the title, will please many readers. Others may want more substance and less artifice. Mary Whipple
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