i'm going to try to start a mini-revival of james fennimore cooper. one of the first truly american novelists he took up writing later in life in a typically pugnacious cooperian way.

disgusted with the quality of an english novel that his wife was reading he threw it down and said "i could write better than that."

he was an imitator of walter scott, not just an admirer. he is famous for "the leatherstocking tales" of which the most famous are "the deerslayer" and "the last of the mohicans."

the writing style of the time was the intricate plot that slowly unfolds with a few well-placed "OHH!" moments when the reader makes the connections followed by a dramatic, deus ex machina ending.

it's the same style as dickens.

in this style the strained deus moments sometimes produce groans in the reader rather than pleasure. "deerslayer" particularly ended on such a note.

mark twain growled rather than groaned. he wrote an article called "the literary offenses of fennimore cooper." i have not read it but can only imagine.

anyway, the LEAST read of the leather-stocking tales, "the pioneers" is one of the most charming, enjoyable books i've ever read. it was also the first in the series that cooper wrote.

a roman a clef, it tells the story of the settling of "templeton" (cooperstown), new york by cooper's family and the many endearing personalities that comprised that family.

the characters are vividly portrayed and cooper has frissons of descriptive greatness, as in the oft-sited passage of two girls awaking on a sunny winter's morning in the wilderness, the sun glinting off the snow crystals on the trees, off the icecycles, off the lake. it is a truly wonderful scene.

too bad "pioneers" never got much of an audience. it is a wonderful little book. i will never forget it.


-benjamin harris