Hank Nuwer with Basque herders, Ruby Mountains, Nevada
Buckaroos vs. shepherds in the Old West by Jim Garlits
Hank Nuwer’s Sons of the Dawn: A Basque Odyssey has all the dusty bravado and high noon tension of a Wild West shoot-em-up. But it’s more than a genre exercise. Due for January release by Shalako Press, Nuwer’s Western novel tackles weightier topics such as cultural diversity in 1890s Idaho, and the related issues of hazing and bullying (Nuwer is known internationally as an expert on bullying).
Sitting relaxed in denim and flannel as he devoured a turkey sandwich and sipped black coffee in a donut-county café, Nuwer talked with NUVO about his days as a pickup truck-and-typewriter freelancer scouring the Western landscape for stories.
After the interview, Nuwer followed the reporter, a former journo student of Nuwer’s at Ball State University, to kick the tires of a used “C” class RV he thought might serve as his address for upcoming travels and research for his follow-up novel on Chinese miners in the West. The howling wind bounced sheets of rain off of a corrugated steel roof over our heads as Hank pondered whether his black lab Casey would go with its Travels with Charley-style furnishings.
NUVO: What compelled you to write a Western novel about sheep herders who hailed from a part of Idaho inhabited by Basque emigres?
Hank Nuwer: About 40 years ago, I read in a 19th-century Nevada newspaper that buckaroos [read: cowboys] captured a herder, and put him in the center of a ring of fire to kill him. At that time, irate cowboys who thought sheep were eating the good grazeland were driving sheep over cliffs to drive out the sheep ranchers and homesteaders. So the central image in my book is based on a true occurrence. If I’ve done my job, it is about one of the classic battles of the American West, the cattlemen vs. the sheep herders, many of them Basques from Spain and France. My idea in this novel and future novels is to highlight underrepresented minorities in the West as protagonists.
When I was a graduate student at Nevada-Reno, the very first course I took was Western American literature, and though I loved literature, I found grad school stultifying and creativity deadening in spite of my 3.9+ grade point. The head of the University of Nevada Press, Robert Laxalt, probably the best Basque fiction writer of all time and a contributing writer with National Geographic, said, “Hank, you ought to quit grad school and go out and be a writer.”
I quit school, went out to Los Angeles, and started writing. One of the proposals to various magazine editors was the culture of the Basques out west, so I abandoned my Topanga Canyon cabin, hopped in my pickup with camper, and went herding sheep with Basque herders out on the trail for a couple magazines.
NUVO: Your character Tubal Buscal in particular just leaped from the page for me.
Nuwer: Tubal changed dramatically from the original character that I had based on an old herder from Guernica that I herded with in the Ruby Mountains of Nevada and had stayed with at his sheep wagon. Some of the things about his character are present in Tubal. You treat your animals first to a meal before you treat yourself. You set down big boys or flat rocks when you find water, so the next herder comes through won’t die of thirst. You can’t expect to take care of 2,000 sheep if you don’t take care of your camp. So he started on the page from a real person, but it amazed me how he changed into a complicated, fictional character who bore little resemblance to his inspiration.
NUVO: People probably know you best from your time as editor of Arts Indiana magazine. How would you explain the work you are doing now to that audience?
Nuwer: Well, I do have a home in central Indiana since I am a prof at Franklin College, but I have acreage in Alaska and Nevada. The two years that I got to spend as Arts Indiana editor demanded that I learn a lot about music and art. I had an appreciation for both, but the job forced me to go in and learn about painting and making every brush stroke count–just like every word in a story counts, and I learned the importance of shadows and detail and sticking to a theme. Hemingway used to say that if you wanted to learn how to write fiction, go stare at a single painting by Cezanne.
Kurt Vonnegut was on our advisory board. Just before Arts Indiana, I got a chance to interview him, and then I ran into him while giving a talk in New Hampshire, and he and I got to sit at a bar and talk some more. What is so darned interesting is that Vonnegut was Indiana through and through, but lived in New York City and Long Island. I am West through and through, but I have been planted in Indiana more or less since 1982.
NUVO: Does Sons of the Dawn strike you primarily as a Western, as historical fiction, or what?
Nuwer: The class I took at Nevada-Reno way back in 1972 with a guest lecturer named Wallace Stegner, a fine novelist, taught me that the West is an excellent setting for complicated literary fiction if it is written with breadth and depth, well developed characters, a plot that is not simplistic, and incredible detail — and speaking of detail, I think you may learn more about sheep herding in my novel than you want.
In terms of geographic setting, I’ve been all over Idaho, once having lived there, but I have also been out to the Basque country in Spain to do the research in Guernica at a museum honoring the Basques, and also a Peace Museum dedicated to memorializing the bombing of Guernica. I went to Madrid to look at the painting of Guernica by Picasso twice. I think all of this elevates the book from a shoot ’em up western to a far more complex novel than anyone will expect.
NUVO: You’ve found a way to add a scene to the novel addressing the topic of hazing. It flows very well.
Nuwer: This Chinese man, one of the characters who may appear in the sequel novel, meets a buckaroo who tries to cut his queue [or ponytail] off. The queue was sacred to a lot of these ethnic miners, and was an offense that could get somebody hung back in China. Anton, my Basque who lifts 600-pound boulders for fun, throws the buckaroo into a water trough and dunks him under to teach him a lesson: he’s standing up for the little guy, for the hazing victim. It’s interesting because now in this chapter we’ve got two newly arrived Americans, Chinese and Basque, who are standing up against so-called “real Americans” who with their racism have lost the humanity that Anton and the Chinese miner possess.
A long while back, I posted an announcement about Hank Nuwer’s novel Sons of the Dawn. He sent me a review of his novel by the writer David Allspaw which, much to my embarrassment, I never got to sharing. My apologies Hank.And I really, really need to read your book!
Sons of the Dawn Review
By David Allspaw
I have never traveled to Idaho. My familiarity of the state extends only to its rolling foothills and famous potatoes, which I hear are delicious. I do not doubt that it is a gem of the American West (as the nickname implies), but I know no more about its defining characteristics than I do about a distant country such as Luxembourg. For Midwestern folks like me, Idaho might as well reside in that Mountie-controlled territory to the North.
Nor am I any more aware of the nuances of Spain and its native language. I learned German in high school, which is about as far apart from Spanish as the entire span of the Pyrenees. The people of Spain were never anything more to me than foreigners residing in an unfamiliar region. The Spaniards’ idea of a national sporting event, I determined, is running from bulls in absurd outfits. They cannot be trusted.
With these thoughts in mind, I began reading Sons of the Dawn with the expectation that it would be a tedious and unsatisfying experience. I would not even want to attempt to herd sheep myself in the rugged terrain and climate of Idaho, and I definitely did not want to read about some fictional character doing it. My embarrassingly-limited knowledge of outdoors survival is a subject of frequent teasing by some of my friends, and it seemed that this story was about as relevant for me as a cookbook. I was clenching my teeth and preparing for the expansive boredom to come.
But it never arrived. In fact, I can honestly say that this book was one of the most rewarding and illuminating reads that I have ever stumbled upon. It was superb.
The novel begins with an origin story that seems to have come straight out of Harry Potter. A Spanish priest and his brother are hiking in the Pyrenees when an avalanche strikes below them, taking down a family caught in its path. When the men arrive, they discover that two young boys, Anton and Nicky Ibarra, have survived in the air pockets created by their mother’s coat. They are now orphans, and the priest assumes his seemingly God-granted duty of serving as the boys’ new guardian. You can probably guess that these brothers are destined for something great, considering that they have only faint memories of their dead parents, inexplicably lived through a deadly event, and were raised by an unassuming, caring elder. The story is not exactly original, but it serves to foreshadow the brothers’ ascent to hero-like status.
Soon enough, Anton and Nicky are shipped off to their uncle’s ranch in Idaho to pursue lives as sheepherders. While they chase the salary promised to them at the end of their herding obligation and the opportunity for owning land, they must contend with the brutal Idaho elements and the rancher thugs that attempt to kick them out of the territory. After all, a war is on with the brothers’ native country of Spain, and these “black Bascos” are viewed as threats to the unbridled power of Uncle Sam.
While Anton and Nicky’s adventures are entertaining, it is the deeply-authentic historical setting in which they take place that makes them believable. The author’s penchant for integrating historical nuggets and events into the storyline is similar to how Spielberg set the Indiana Jones movies amidst the emergence of World War II, but Sons of the Dawn contains more substance and realism than a film ever could. The history lessons here are much more intimate than the ones provided by a generic textbook, and I like them that way. When you read about the Spanish soldiers scouring Guernica for young fighters and capturing two of the brothers’ best friends, you gain a profound perspective of what it was like to fight conscription in a war-consumed country. Nuwer does not simply teach you the history of that time; he lets you live it through these characters. And that approach could only have been so effective through the immense amount of firsthand experience and on-site research that the author brought to the story.
In addition to the appeal to history buffs like me, the trials of sheepherding in a bygone era make this a memorable and absorbing read throughout. Anton and Nicky may only be young boys, but they are tasked with the challenge of herding sheep through the rugged terrain and climate of Idaho without much initial training in the craft. The brothers essentially arrive at the ranch, choose an eager young pup to serve as their aide, and head off into the unknown. They receive food every few weeks from Tubal, the head ranch assistant, and are otherwise solely responsible for their own survival and the health of the sheep. I cannot remember exactly what I was doing as a teenager, but I know that it was not even one-twentieth as arduous as the obstacles that these brothers have to overcome. The boys make some costly mistakes along the way, and it is fascinating to read how Tubal dissects their errors and teaches them the proper techniques of herding. Nicky and Anton’s maturation from young boys in their housekeeper and foster father’s care to seasoned ranchers is a crucial piece of the novel, and we as readers are able to take the journey with them.
Of course, life alone in the Idaho wilderness would be unbearable without some humor mixed in. The teasing and jokes from the brothers and Tubal are to be expected, but I think Nuwer overuses them throughout the book. At some points, it seems as if the characters are rodeo clowns rather than serious sheepherders. The capacity for the brothers to remain jovial after enduring so many hardships seems exaggerated, and it undermines the gritty realism that defines the story throughout.
Sons of the Dawn is precisely the kind of creative, historical fiction that my collection of literature has been lacking. The story serves as a refreshing alternative to the Game of Thrones and Fifty Shades of Grey-inspired novels that litter the shelves of libraries and bookstores, as it is not dumbed-down or profane. This is epic literature at its finest, and Nuwer’s cinematic style of writing brings to mind some of the great Western movies of the past. The book could make a great film, but I am afraid that Hollywood’s commercial-driven mindset would cause it to be less like Shane and more like Blazing Saddles. That kind of treatment would be unjust for a story so masterfully written.
Ultimately, the novel serves as an entertaining insight into the histories of the U.S., Idaho, and Spain. It provides an intimate look into the Basque identity, a group who is proud of its ancient tongue (according to the text, the Basque language is one of the oldest in the world and is thought to have existed since the Stone Age) and who desires independence from its Spanish counterparts. The novel’s depiction of the discrimination faced by Chinese and Basque immigrants is striking, and it teaches us that blacks were not the only group who faced social resistance in the U.S. If anything else, the frequent imagery of Idaho’s gorgeous scenery makes me want to travel there and see it for myself.
Franklin College professor Nuwer (The Hazing Reader, 2004, etc.) breaks from scholarly publications with this debut Western novel set in the Basque region of Spain and the rugged terrain of Idaho.
In the years leading up to the Spanish-American War, the Spanish military conscripted thousands of men and boys to fight. Having lived a peaceful life with their adopted father near the Basque city of Guernica, teenage brothers Anton and Nicky are reluctant to acknowledge that the conscription threatens their safety and their lives. Having more foresight, their father arranges their passage to America to work with his half brother on his sheep ranch. Once there, they are thrown into a new life, first of rigorous training, then of solitude and loneliness as they spend two years tending the flock on the open range. They meet a community of other Basque workers, as well as immigrants of other nationalities working for a better life. Unfortunately, they also meet with prejudice against the Basques, especially by a local cattle farmer bent on gaining as much land as he can—by any means. Nuwer excels at creating a vivid, atmospheric sense of place, both in Spain and Idaho. His pacing is by no means brisk, but rather than being a detraction, it highlights the introspection and attention to detail throughout the story. The dialogue has a few awkward moments, including humor that occasionally falls flat, as with Nicky’s response to a ribbing: “That was like humor, only not funny.” Also, phrases such as “the wagons rolled west, ever west, without them” seem a bit implausible coming from a seasoned sheep herder. However, readers will likely gloss over these issues in favor of Nuwer’s keen eye for detail and historical accuracy. With its focus on teenage characters and specific exploration of bullying and hazing, this book has considerable appeal not only to fans of Westerns but to young adults as well.
Informed, unpretentious and attentive, this Western breathes life into little-known historical events.
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JOHNSON COUNTY
Franklin College hazing expert pens Western novel
By Vic Ryckaert
vic.ryckaert@indystar.com
Franklin College professor Hank Nuwer has built a national reputation and become an outspoken crusader against hazing in all its forms.
The associate professor for Franklin College’s Pulliam School of Journalism has written articles and four books about hazing in his long academic career.
Long after sundown when he’s not working on serious, scholarly missives, Nuwer’s been writing a literary Western novel inspired by time he spent “trailing” sheep with migrant Basque herders in 1979. “Sons of the Dawn: A Basque Odyssey,” published by Shalako Press, will be available in print and ebook in January.
Nuwer, 67, Waldron, credits the “bloody red pen” of his ex-wife and copy editor Jenine Howard for making his novel “leaner, tighter and cleaner.”
Nuwer talks about Westerns, the Basque region of Spain and his inspiration for the novel.
Question: Why did you write a Western novel?
Nuwer: Once, long ago, I took leave of my senses and decided that getting a Ph.D. at Nevada-Reno was a great idea. My two main doctoral areas were the New Journalism and Western American Literature. One of the guest speakers in a Western Lit class was the great American novelist Wallace Stegner who wrote “The Big Rock Candy Mountain,” and I interviewed him and went out to dinner with him and Bobby Clark, the son of Walter Van Tilburg Clark of “The Oxbow Incident” fame. I vowed then and there at that very table that I would write a literary Western. A mere 43 years later, I have written one. And no, I never got that Ph.D. Instead, a hazing death happened at Nevada-Reno right before I quit the program, and my life’s course as a writer took a turn I never had wished for and certainly never expected.
Question: How did your sabbatical in the Basque Country of Spain inspire you?
Nuwer: The Guernica Peace Museum (Museo de la Paz de Gernika) may be one of the last thoughts on my mind when I leave this world. It affected me so. In one exhibit the floor is glass and underneath is the actual rubble of Hitler’s bombing — things such as a child’s shoes, a rosary, everyday things charred and burnt. There were very old people from Guernica who had survived the bombing, and they were crying so hard. The museum used red stage lighting to make it seem like the room was afire. It was an astonishing experience. Last January, while in Madrid on Franklin College business, I saw Pablo Picasso’s masterpiece “Guernica,” and the sabbatical experience in Guernica made that painting all the more inspiring and meaningful for me.
Question: Are any of the characters based on people you met?
Nuwer: Yes, and no. The old sheep herder and camptender Tubal in “Sons of the Dawn” was based on Jacinto Madrieta, a Basque I “trailed” sheep with from the high country of Nevada to the low country of Nevada on two magazine assignments when I was young — and on Lucien Millox, a Basque herder who brought in 2,000 sheep with a broken neck after a twister lifted up his sheepwagon and rattled it like corn in a popper.
Question: You have built a reputation as a national expert on hazing and more generally, bullying. Are there any bullies in this novel?
Nuwer: Oh, yes, there is a savage rancher named Faro Sinclair who has lone shepherds burned in a circle of fire. That really happened, by the way, and I read about it in an old newspaper clipping as a graduate student at Nevada. Another character who works for Faro tried to cut off the queue of a Chinese miner, which is a horrific insult for someone of a certain culture at that time. My hero Anton Ibarra steps in as a bystander and dumps the would-be hazer into a water trough.
Question: Name some of your favorite authors.
Nuwer: Well, Kurt Vonnegut is the most meaningful, and I am writing his biography for Indiana University Press, stressing his life as a Hoosier, author and war veteran. A small grant from Franklin College sent me to Dresden, Germany, and I retraced Vonnegut’s own steps as a prisoner of war before and after the bombing of Dresden by the allies.
But in terms of Western authors, I have a great deal of respect for the work of Louis L’Amour who wrote “Hondo” and Jack Schaefer who wrote “Shane.”
Question: After authoring so many scholarly articles and books, was writing fiction a litle more fun?
Nuwer: Nearly every word of the novel was written between 2 and 6 a.m. It was my dog Casey, me and the coffee pot. The academic garb is gone, replaced by baggy sweats, a gimmee cap and a T-shirt badly in need of washing. I’d read a passage aloud and my dog Casey would look at me with these stern eyes. “You’re right, Casey,” I joked once. “Too many adverbs.” To just have the freedom to do your best work at a crazy hour day after day was exhilarating. ,
Call Star reporter Vic Ryckaert at (317) 444-2701. Follow him on Twitter: @VicRyc.
