Pioneering Women in a Wild West Horror Story
Victor LaValle’s Latest Tale Defies the Stereotypes
Horror is not a genre that I gravitate toward naturally. The idea of amusing myself with terror? That just hasn’t been my jam. But Victor LaValle has changed all that, largely because his books “tick off” a couple of qualities that are in my sweet spot.
His characters have big personalities, and some of them are very funny. Plus, the language LaValle uses is juicy and finely detailed in a way that makes everything seem very real, in my imagination. In my opinion, LaValle is first and foremost a literary author, rather than a horror writer. And because of that, the monsters he unleashes are more captivating than frightening.
LaValle has been more in the public eye in recent months because one of his books, The Changeling, has been adapted into a series and is now playing on AppleTV+. I’ve watched the first season all the way through and have mixed feelings about it — although it’s garnered 4.7 out of 5 stars on Rotten Tomatoes. The book itself I absolutely loved.
I once attended a lecture by the famous screenwriting guru Robert McKee, who said that it’s far easier to adapt a screenplay based on a poorly written novel than a great one. So maybe a little of that was going on with Changeling — or at least my impression of it.
Regardless, if you watched the Changeling series and it didn’t blow your hair back, don’t stop there. Do yourself a favor by also giving LaValle’s books a test drive. And there’s no better entry point than Lone Women, his novel released earlier this year. Prefer audio readings? You’re in luck. Joniece Abbott-Pratt does an outstanding narration of the tale.
Women in the Wild West
Unlike Changeling or another LaValle novel I love, The Devil in Silver, LaValle’s latest book isn’t set in New York City, and he opted against male protagonists who are trying to unravel life-threatening mysteries. “Lone Women” transported me with a storyline that mixes an unusual combination: a cast of female characters, most prominently a Black woman, in an Old West horror story.
The heroine of the tale, Adelaide Henry, comes to Montana in the early 1900s after escaping some big troubles in Southern California. She brings a monstrous secret in a huge trunk that is at the root of her tragic past. Slowly, the secret is revealed, along with its horrifying consequences for some of the other characters.
Adelaide is driven by a dream of starting all over again as a homesteader, living as an independent woman. And she’s got the cynical edge, intelligence, and physical strength to figure out how to do that.
LaValle has explained in interviews about the book that the initial story idea hit him when he happened upon a history book, Montana Women Homesteaders: A Field of One’s Own, during a short trip to the state.
Sure, he was familiar with iconic works like Little House on the Prairie, with pioneering female characters that are largely wives and daughters. But women, including Black women, who were carving out independent lives in a really rough world was something he didn’t know about. Turned out, most people he spoke with didn’t know about them either.
“My narrative of homesteading and ‘taming the West’ was White dudes on wagons, White dudes on horses, White dudes on foot,” LaValle said during an interview on the podcast series Poured Over, from Barnes & Noble. “The whole point of this book was women who didn’t come out there with anyone and wanted to stake a claim, have land that was their own.” As his reading on the subject expanded, he realized that some of those women might have wanted to leave behind their past.
Exploring Family Secrets
Like most great horror stories, “Lone Women” is rooted in a human anxiety or issue that a lot of people can relate to. In the same Poured Over interview, LaValle explained that his own family has a history of mental illness. Lone Women became an imaginative way of exploring the shame of family secrets — the desire to keep them hidden — and the release that can occur when they come out in the open.
LaValle doesn’t hit us over the head with that theme — although it’s right there in the opening lines of the book: “There are two kinds of people in this world: those who live with shame, and those who die from it. On Tuesday, Adelaide Henry would’ve called herself the former, but by Wednesday she wasn’t sure.”
An aspect of the novel that’s more striking to me than the theme are his finely considered details. Some of them bring to life the wild, bleak, and gothic landscape. But his keen observations of how people act and speak are what I admire the most.
Here’s an example of his description of a child named Sam, who’s the son of Adelaide’s neighbor, Grace:
“Sam found his way into everything. He creaked in the rocker, going faster and faster, until he nearly fell backward. When Grace hissed his name, Sam came out of the rocker like he’d been sitting on a spring.
“Then he perused Adelaide’s library, picking up each of the books and leafing through the pages at such speed that it should’ve surprised no one when he tore a page right out of The Secret Garden …
“Sam asked for a spoon next and when Adelaide gave it to him he went to each cooking pan hanging in the corner and smacked all the ones he could reach. Grace had to shout his name five times before Sam heard her. She asked what he thought he was doing and he stared back.
“‘Bashing,’ he said.”
Oh yeah. LaValle is no stranger to kids.
It’s because of language and characterizations like that that I started the book all over again as soon as I finished it. That doesn’t happen to me very often. Even if I wasn’t a novelist, curious to get past my initial wonder and see more deeply into LaValle’s craft, I probably would have done that.
Apparently, there are plans afoot to adapt Lone Women to the screen. I have certain trepidations about how well that can be done, based on my take on The Changeling series. But in a way, that’s what horror fiction is all about — the trepidation.
I will always be willing to give anyone involved in adapting his work the benefit of the doubt.
