"I think there's only one interesting story ... and that's struggle," says writer Thomas McGuane. Loners, outcasts and malcontents fill the pages of McGuane's latest book — a collection of short stories titled Crow Fair. There's a divorced dad who takes his young son out for an ill-fated day of ice fishing; A restless cattle breeder who takes a gamble on a more lucrative and dangerous line of works; A guy who abandons his blind grandmother by the side of a river to go get drunk, and chase after a corpse he's spotted floating by.

These "so-called unsavory" characters are "voiceless," he tells NPR's Melissa Block. "I try to find out what their view of the world would be by imagination — to sort of see how they see things. ... It wouldn't interest me very much to write a lot about contented people, successful people. That's I think for some other job, maybe sociology, not mine."

The stories are set in Montana, where McGuane has lived for decades — he bought a small ranch there after he sold his first novel The Sporting Club in the late 1960s. Along with his writing — McGuane raises cattle and cutting horses. He lives in a house built by homesteaders, along a river, outside the tiny town of McLeod.

"You know people so thoroughly," he says. "Where I live, for example, they know what time of the morning we usually turn the lights on. And it's a little socially claustrophobic that way — we all know a lot about each other. But for a writer, it's kind of a good thing."


Interview Highlights

On the west he writes about vs. the "chamber of commerce west"

I love the west and I wouldn't want to live anywhere else, but I've long been preoccupied that the west that I see every day has never emerged into the sort of chamber of commerce west. We have a kind of "official" west — that west of the big sky and cowboy movies and all sorts of things, but really mostly the people you see where I live are the same people you see where you live but for some reason they're considered to be beneath the attention of local artists. In fact, I'm kind of considered someone who's betraying the local view of things. They think I should write more like A.B. Guthrie [Jr., author of The Way West.]

On whether he is "puncturing" the idyllic myth of the west

It's not a matter of wanting to puncture something. It's really a matter of writing about the world that I actually know — and I've been there for nearly a half century so I have a pretty good database on what goes on around me. But when people talk about Montana, they're talking about a very small portion of it. They're not talking about the eastern two-thirds of the state where life is very tough. They're usually talking about the ski areas and the universities and things like that.

On how his writing has changed since his early works in the late 1960s

I think when I first started out I had a kind of an exuberance about language, comedy, narrative leaps that ... stopped just short of non sequiturs. And I'm much more cautious now. I look things over a little bit more carefully before leaping into them. ... I like writing that's a bit more direct because I hope the subjects are difficult enough that they supply all the indirection that I could possibly manage.

And I think living where I do among non-literary people I probably want to be able to write things that they could understand. I've always given the people who work down on the ranch, I've always given them books to read, and I've learned what they can't read and what they can read. And why they may be right about that. And maybe that's simplified my style a little better — not simplified it, but made it plainer.

On whether he goes back to read his earlier books

No ... I never have, I've never looked at a page ... seriously. I'm a really a fanatical reviser and there comes a point where I have to declare a truce with the text or I'll keep fooling with it forever. And I think most of the stories in this book have been drafted at least eight or nine or 10 times. And if I went back and read my earlier books, I'd feel so frustrated that I couldn't rewrite them that I know not to look.

On how his sense of humor has shifted over the course of his career

I think probably the most over-the-top book language-wise was 92 in the Shade and I think I've looked at that. I think by my current standards I found it a little flamboyant. But it was kind of in fun, too. I think my comic sense was more lit up in those days than it is now. ... It was the '70s and all the people I knew were all still alive. My parents and my sister died ... very close together and after that I lost quite a bit of my sense of humor. Most of it I think has kind of come back, but I know there was a time when I didn't think things were funny anymore. I kind of think they're funny again.

Copyright 2015 NPR. To see more, visit http://www.npr.org/.

Transcript

MELISSA BLOCK, HOST:

When writer Thomas McGuane sold his first novel, "The Sporting Club," in the late 1960s, he bought a small ranch in Montana, and he's lived in Montana ever since. Along with his writing, McGuane raises cattle and cutting horses. He lives in a house built by homesteaders along a river outside the tiny town of McLeod.

THOMAS MCGUANE: You know people so thoroughly. They know - I mean, where I live, for example, they know what time in the morning we usually turn the lights on (laughter). And it's a little socially claustrophobic that way. We all know a lot about each other. But for a writer, it's kind of a good thing.

BLOCK: Montana characters fill the pages of Tom McGuane's latest book. It's a collection of short stories titled "Crow Fair." There's a divorced dad who takes his young son out for an ill-fated day of ice fishing, a restless cattle breeder who takes a gamble on a more lucrative and dangerous line of work, a guy who abandons his blind grandmother by the side of a river to go get drunk and chase after a corpse he spotted floating by. Mostly, these characters are loners, outcasts and malcontents.

MCGUANE: You know, I think the - there's only really one interesting story, I guess, and that's the struggle. And when I'm writing, I try to think of people who, for some reason or another, are struggling. That, I guess, predisposes malcontentism or something. But it's people who are not content with the situation they're in, want to move on to the next thing and often occasion mistakes.

BLOCK: You know, I'm thinking that a lot of the characters in these stories are folks that you wouldn't want to spend a whole lot of time with. They have lots of problems. A number of them have been left by their wives. They drink a lot. They get into horrible situations. As a writer, you do have to spend a lot of time with them. And I wonder if that's part of the appeal for you of being with folks who are unsavory.

MCGUANE: Well, I think maybe so-called unsavory people is a people who are kind of voiceless in a way. And I try to find out what their view of the world would be by imagination - to sort of see how they see things. And also it wouldn't interest me very much to write a lot about contented people, successful people. That's, I think, for some other job - maybe sociology.

(LAUGHTER)

MCGUANE: Not mine.

BLOCK: Yeah, where's the struggle there, right?

MCGUANE: Yeah, exactly.

BLOCK: The stories are mostly set in Montana, your home state. And this is not the idyllic, romantic, gorgeous Montana that we might have in our imagination. Is that sort of a Western myth that you like to puncture?

MCGUANE: It's not so much that I like to puncture it because I love the West, and I wouldn't want to live anywhere else. But I've long been preoccupied that the West that I see every day has never emerged into the sort of Chamber of Commerce West. We have a kind of official West - the West of the big sky and of cowboy movies and all sorts of things. But really, mostly the people you see where I live are the same people you see where you live. But for some reason they're considered to be beneath the attention of local artists. And in fact, I'm kind of considered someone who's betraying the local...

BLOCK: Oh, really?

MCGUANE: ...View of things. Yeah. They think I should write more like A. B. Guthrie.

BLOCK: You hear that from people there?

MCGUANE: I actually do. They think, you know, this is not really like that or, you know, people don't really eat pizza in Montana.

(LAUGHTER)

MCGUANE: There are no secretaries here - that sort of thing. But it's not a matter of wanting to puncture something. It's really a matter of writing about the world that I actually know. And I've been there for nearly a half-century, so I have a pretty good database on what goes on around me. But when people talk about Montana, they're talking about a very small portion of it. They're not talking about the eastern two-thirds of the state where life is very tough. They're usually talking about the ski areas and the universities and things like that.

BLOCK: Yeah. I wonder, when you think back, your first book - your first novel, "The Sporting Club," was published back in 1969. You've written 15 books, I think, in all, if I've counted them correctly. What are the things that you know now as a writer that you had no clue about when you started out?

MCGUANE: Well, I think when I first started out I had a kind of exuberance about language, comedy, narrative leaps that were close to - stopped just short of non sequiturs. And I'm much more cautious now. I look things over a little bit more carefully before leaping into them. I'm also - I like writing that's a bit more direct, because I hope the subjects are difficult enough that they supply all the indirection that I could possibly manage. And then I think living where I do, among nonliterary people, I probably have gotten to want to be able to write things that they could understand. I've always given the people that worked on the ranch - I've always given them books to read, and I've learned what they can't read and what they can read and why they may be right about that. And maybe that's simplified my story - style a little bit or made it a little more - or not simplified, but it made it plainer.

BLOCK: Do you go back, Tom McGuane, and read your earliest books, "The Sporting Club, "Ninety-Two In The Shade?"

MCGUANE: No.

BLOCK: Never?

MCGUANE: I never have, no. I've never looked at a page of them.

BLOCK: Come on, really?

MCGUANE: Seriously. I'm a - really a fanatical reviser. And there comes a point where I have to declare a truce with the text or I'll keep fooling with it forever. I mean, I think most of the stories in this book have been drafted at least eight or nine or 10 times. And if I went back and read my earlier books, I'd feel so frustrated that I couldn't rewrite them that I know not to look.

BLOCK: Wow. That's amazing to me that you wouldn't be curious to think, you know, who was that guy? What was I - what did I sound like when I was in my 30s?

MCGUANE: Right. I think maybe I - probably the most kind of over-the-top book language-wise was "Ninety-Two In The Shade." And I think I've looked at that.

BLOCK: Uh-huh. OK.

MCGUANE: You know, I think by my current standards I found it a little flamboyant. But it was kind of fun, too. I think my comic sense was more lit up in those days than it is now.

BLOCK: It was the '70s, right? It was the crazy '70s.

MCGUANE: It was the '70s and my - you know, I mean, all the people I knew were all still alive. My parents and my sister died all very close together. And after that I lost quite a bit of my sense of humor. Most of it, I think, has kind of come back. But I know there was a time when I didn't things were funny anymore. I kind of think they're funny again.

(SOUNDBITE OF MUSIC)

BLOCK: Well, Tom McGuane, it's been a pleasure. Thanks so much.

MCGUANE: OK. Thank you, Melissa.

BLOCK: Tom McGuane. His new collection of short stories is titled "Crow Fair." Transcript provided by NPR, Copyright NPR.

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