81 books like Myth, Memory, and Massacre

I was blown away by this book because it spoke to my own efforts to find voices from the past that had been silenced, sometimes for centuries, by those who did not want certain stories to be told. Sometimes, the silencing was by legal suppression or even outright murder.

We’ve all heard that history is written by the winners, but how often do we think about the libraries and archives that are created by the winners, and how often the losers’ stories are kept out of these repositories? Even when scattered evidence is found, it is usually ignored, not only by the historians who write the approved versions of the past but also by the readers who fail to recognize inconvenient truths when they are confronted by them.

This book told me a lot about both its heroine, Henrietta Wood, and its author, Caleb McDaniel. From an obscure 19th-century newspaper article mentioning a court case in Ohio, McDaniel learned of a female slave from Kentucky who had been freed in Cincinnati, kidnapped, and illegally sold back into slavery, and who, after the Civil War, returned to successfully sue for damages the men who had kidnapped and re-enslaved her.

Both the heroine and the author are untiring in their efforts to get to the truth and to convey that truth to a wider audience. I was impressed with McDaniel’s willingness to share with his readers his doubts and fears about recovering this story, and equally impressed by his efforts, successful in the end, to match the determination of Henrietta Wood.

When I recommended this book to a petroleum geologist, he later told me that it was probably the best book he had ever read–and he understood for the first time what historians actually do (and parenthetically, why the closest field to history in methodology is, in fact, geology).

I’ve also seen undergraduate students come alive intellectually by reading these lectures, given at Oxford by Gaddis as a visiting professor. They are full of remarkable insights into everything from human psychology to fractal geometry. Every chapter is an intellectual feast, showing the vast variety of the historian’s sources and methods.

I was fascinated by Foster’s detective work in literary history–searching for the actual authors of poems, political novels, and proclamations, the authors of which had always been considered “anonymous.” Using a variety of ingenious methods, Foster tracks down the persons behind mysterious documents ranging from the Unabomber’s threats to “The Night Before Christmas.”

I loved Foster’s wry and sometimes caustic sense of humor, especially when he is skewering the “experts” whom he proves to be wrong. This book is, quite simply, great fun for the intellectually curious.

If you’d like to understand why Elmer Kelton was voted the greatest Western writer of all time by the Western Writers of America read The Wolf and the Buffalo. Though every word of the dozens of books he authored are saturated in the authenticity of the Texas cattleman that Kelton was, this novel holds a special place in my heart.

Published in 1980 before there was a widespread appreciation for the achievements of the Buffalo Soldiers against great odds, Kelton presents fully-realized portraits of the formerly enslaved men tasked with protecting white settlers. 

All Kelton’s writing is alive with the language of the frontier. I am grateful to the master for helping me feel the rhythm of 19th Century, Western speech. On just one page, Kelton has his characters speak of fires that they “get to goin’,” of someone departing rapidly “skinning out the door,” and of how,… show more.

Dead Man’s Walk is the third book in the Lonesome Dove series. It is difficult for me to write a review because the book and film are part of my family story. Dead Man’s Walk is a true story inspired by McMurtry’s research into the failed Santa Fe Expedition of 1841. His fictional characters Matilda Jane Roberts, Gus McCrae, and Woodrow Call make a brutal story of humanity, a fun read. Most of the characters' names are fictitious, however, the Comanche Indian Chief named Buffalo Hump was real. His tribe in 1841 killed my great-great-great grandfather Thomas W. Smith and his son James in separate attacks. The Comanche also captured my great-grandmother’s nine-year-old cousin Fayette Smith in the attack that killed his father Judge James Smith on the banks of Shoal Creek. I have written their story in my book and its soon-to-be-released sequel.   

I heard about this book on the car radio. The speaker said John Graves was Texas’ best living writer. He was certainly Texas’ best living travel writer. Graves takes us on a canoe trip down the Brazos River in late fall through an area soon to be dammed and obliterated by the Army Corp of Engineers. Graves grew up on that river and loves it. He knows its history and details elements of that history with scenes from pioneer days, the Comanche wars, feuds, hermits, and encounters with modern citizens as Graves and his little dog, a dachshund, wind their way downriver for three weeks, camping out on gravel bars, fishing, hunting, and exploring.

His book inspired me to take my son on a 1000-mile canoe trip that I wrote about in my own book.

The famous movie is extremely faithful to the book, although the book adds to the richness and depth of both plot and character.

In addition to heralding the transformation of spiritual awareness through empathetic identity with the indigenous peoples of the Lakota Nation, Dances with Wolves focuses upon the power of animal spirits and the lessons embedded in observing their behavior. Despite the title, the most prominent animal spirit is the Buffalo.

The Comanche Kid is a breathtaking book that follows Jane, who witnesses her family's murder and her sister's kidnapping during a Comanche raid.

She disguises herself as her brother and embarks on a journey to find her sister and seek revenge. Along the way, she joins a cattle drive, encountering cowboys, Buffalo soldiers, and Comanches, experiencing the beauty and wrath of the West.

This intense novel fearlessly exposes the atrocities committed by all parties, while highlighting the destructive nature of vengeance. Nonetheless, it remains a compassionate tale of bravery and forgiveness. Trust me on this – you will not forget this novel. It’s on my shelf next to True Grit.

This book took me on a rollicking romp through antebellum Central Texas when the American frontier ended just west of Austin (where I currently reside). Gwynne expertly breathes life into the Comanche way, how they mastered side-saddle riding and rifle shooting and became such an overwhelming force on the high plains that even Mexico retreated its northern border to San Antonio.

It was captivating how Gwynne placed the reader within U.S. forts during Comanche raids or inside sprawling Comanche camps, bustling with stolen horses, abducted Westerners and with drying buffalo hides. At the book’s crux is the remarkable story of Cynthia Ann Parker, who is abducted at a young age and raised among Comanche, and her mixed-blood son, Quanah, who becomes the tribe’s greatest and last chief.