something about “In a Narrow Grave” by Larry McMurtry

Larry McMurtry (1936–2021) was an American novelist and screenwriter who wrote mostly about the West. He was born in Archer City, Texas, about 25 miles from Wichita Falls. In a Narrow Grave, published in 1968, is a collection of Texas-related essays on cowboys, literature, sex, movies, and the life and people in small towns and big cities.

I read a 2018 edition with a new preface in which McMurtry suggests he has grown “weary” of his own prose. He also says, “The essays were a sort of bridge: behind me lay the mystic plain, ahead the metropolis of the muses. I wanted to cross; I hope I have.”

The early essays discuss the making of "Hud," which was shot in the Texas Panhandle and is based on Horseman, Pass By. McMurtry writes: "Hud, a twentieth century Westerner, is a gunfighter who lacks both guns and opponents. The land itself is the same—just as powerful and just as imprisoning—but the social context has changed so radically that Hud’s impulse to violence is turned inward, on himself and his family.” He adds that “His Cadillac is his gun.” McMurtry goes on to say that most of the remaining cowboys are middle-class.

I enjoyed all this.

In later essays on Texas’s big cities, McMurtry writes about Conservatism in Dallas and that “Wealth, violence, and poverty are common throughout Texas, and why the combination should be scarier in Dallas than elsewhere I don’t know. But it is: no place in Texas is quite so tense and so tight.”

McMurtry’s most popular works include Horseman, Pass By (1962), The Last Picture Show (1966), Terms of Endearment (1975), Lonesome Dove (1985), and Brokeback Mountain (2005). Amazing how much great stuff he wrote.

Note: "Hud," released in 1963, is an excellent movie starring legend Paul Newman as Hud Bannon, rebellious son of rancher Homer Bannon, who is played by the great Melvyn Douglas. Newman and Douglas spar, but the tension between Newman and the ruggedly honest Patricia Neal as Alma Brown, the Bannons' housekeeper, is ripe. Patricia Neal, one of my favorites.

something about "To Have and Have Not" by Ernest Hemingway

Ernest Hemingway's To Have and Have Not, published in 1937, plays out the story of the destruction of Harry Morgan, an everyman fishing boat captain out of Key West, Florida. Harry, after being stiffed on a much-needed payment for chartering a private fishing cruise, finds himself with little choice but to recoup money through the black market, trafficking people and contraband between Cuba and Florida as opportunities to support his family dry up in the Great Depression Era.

I enjoyed parts of To Have and Have Not, but, most of the time, I was bored. That is probably ignorance, I know.

I did, however, enjoy a movie adaptation, "The Breaking Point," starring John Garfield and Patricia Neal. Ms. Neal, as she always did, stole the show, and the dialog at times was brilliant.

My favorite passage in Hemingway's text comes after a supporting character, American writer and expatriate, Richard Gordon, finds out his wife is cheating on him. Richard goes drinking. Here he is at the bar:

The whiskey warmed his tongue and the back of his throat, but it did not change his ideas any, and suddenly, looking at himself in the mirror behind the bar, he knew that drinking was never going to do any good to him now. Whatever he had now he had, and it was from now on, and if he drank himself unconscious when he woke up it would be there.

Note: I have not seen the other movie adaptations.

something about Truman Capote's novella, "Breakfast at Tiffany's"

In Truman Capote's classic novella, "Breakfast at Tiffany's," Holly Golightly often appears to be a mean, awful person. But she cries on Fred's shoulder the first time they meet. We quickly see that Holly is a contradiction, a "real phony." She feigns an aloof, carefree attitude to protect herself from rejection; she acts refined and educated to disguise the fact that she comes from extreme poverty. She is very vulnerable, which makes her very dangerous.

Capote is a sentimental literary genius because he knows how to cut edges around his open heart. During a crucial, heart-wrenching scene in which Holly reunites with her pitifully naive first husband, Doc, Capote inserts a scream from Holly's upstairs neighbor: "Shut up! It's a disgrace. Do your whoring elsewhere."

This novella's many wonderful lines include the following:

You can't give your heart to a wild thing: the more you do, the stronger they get. Until they're strong enough to run into the woods. Or fly into a tree. Then a taller tree. Then the sky.

And

So the days, the last days, blow about in memory, hazy, autumnal, all alike as leaves: until a day unlike any other I've lived.