It is interesting and written well. Vanderhaeghe is certainly an accomplished writer but the appeal just wasn't there. I kept waiting for something else to happen. Or maybe just something to happen differently than the way he was taking it. I know of two men who loved it but for me the appeal just wasn't there.

I had an extremely hard time finishing this book. It took me about 14 days. That’s almost triple the amount it usually takes me to finish a book. I can’t quite put a finger on why I didn’t enjoy it. I should have. It’s historical - I love history. It’s Canadian, and so am I!

Despite loving history, I hadn’t ever heard of the Cypress Hills Massacre until maybe last year and even then, I had really only heard the name. The problem with learning history as a white settler is that you don’t often hear about the white-led violence of settling. Additionally, I grew up in Ontario. The west was always some kind of wild arena in a lot of Ontarians minds . . . until I moved to Alberta.

Moving on: the Cypress Hills Massacre happened in 1873. American and Canadian wolf-hunters were looking for their horses who they assumed were stolen by “Indians” (to use the language of the day). They met a small band of Assiniboine and that’s where the poop hit the fan. Hardwick (who is a character in the novel as well) accuses Little Soldier (also in the book) of stealing them. Little Soldier says they didn’t but there are horses grazing just yonder, so take two of them as a sign of peace and respect (this was in the book - there were three conflicting reports from the actual event). Hardwick was not satisfied (and he and Little Soldier both were drunk), so a massive fight took place. From the ashes of the Massacre came the formation of the North West Mounted Police, mentioned in passing in the book. [This was just an extremely brief sum-up of the events. Take the time to read about it yourself, especially if, like me, you’re a Canadian who didn’t know much or anything about it in the first place!]

In terms of a Western story, which the 1873 narrative was, it didn’t grab me as much as a Larry McMurtry book might have. There is something about Canadian fiction literature that in my reading experience affects every book. It’s this presence of gloom. I especially note this in authors from the Maritimes. It’s almost as if there’s an overwhelming sense of existentialism for one, or more characters in all Canadian lit (that I’ve read thus far). I know that in the anthology of short stories I’ve written, people have mentioned noticing the same thing there. Is it ingrained in Canadian authors?

Harry Vincent’s narrative - in which he is hired by a man to tell the story of Shorty McAdoo (and ultimately the events of the 1873 massacre) isn’t really all that different. Despite taking place in Hollywood in the 20s with all the glamour of film writing and filmmaking, it was so oppressive. Was that the point of it all? Perhaps by the end as Harry struggles to get Shorty to talk about any of it.

I wonder if I had read this book having more knowledge of the actual history, I could have enjoyed it more. To give credit where it’s due, I feel like Canadian-based historical fiction is hard to find. So what do you recommend?

The old west and Hollywood make for a good combination in this book. I thought the western part of the story was better but a long time interest in Hollywood found me more interested in the more modern part of the story.

The laconic cowboy was a great character though the end of his story a bit melodramatic for my taste.
All the Hollywood characters were a bit over the top and crazy. It ended up created a rather strange half of the story.

While I liked the book and thought the writing great, in the end it just didn't quite come together for me.

In the spirit of Blood Meridian, The Englishman's Boy satisfies any lingering bloodlust. I am rarely impressed by parallel plot lines because generally I favour one plot over the other. Here, the two (or three, read the book and we can talk about it) plots matter to each other. It's got a bit of a whodunit feel, leaving the reader to figure things out for themselves. That was refreshing, because I despise books and authors who think it's their duty to give me a lesson on symbolism or metaphor. Half the fun is in the puzzle. Half Western, half Hollywood glamour, with lots of intrigue and some beautiful writing. Worth reading.

First-rate Canadian story-telling

When it comes to anti-aboriginal prejudice, no honest, rational person can claim that Canada is without its problems or shameful events in its history. The Cypress Hills Massacre – the slaughter of more than 20 Assiniboine Indians in Saskatchewan by white wolf hunters who had crossed the loosely defined American border on the trail on some stolen horses – is just one of these shameful events, notable in that it generated a national scandal and the creation of the quasi-military force that ultimately evolved into the RCMP.

Shorty McAdoo is The Englishman’s Boy, the servant of an English gentleman, who, after his employer’s death, aimlessly fell in with a nasty group of wolf hunters and horse wranglers. The story of McAdoo’s eventual part in the massacre is unfolded from two different perspectives – first, in third person real-time narration set in 1873 and, second, from a first person perspective as McAdoo reluctantly relates his story as factual support for a silent cowboy movie in 1923 Hollywood.

From a purely historical perspective, The Englishman’s Boy is actually two stories – a horrifying tale of the 19th century Midwest in North America and the development of the silent movie industry in the early 20th century seamlessly melded into a single moving and relentlessly gripping novel. But it is neither pleasant nor easy to swallow. The diversity of topics that a reader is forced to consider is almost dizzying in its scope – xenophobia, anti-aboriginal racism and cultural genocide, anti-Semitism, misogyny, sexual perversion, bullying, the foundations of the American gun culture, the indolence and inane self-centered lifestyles of the wealthy in the USA’s burgeoning capitalist economy, the adulation that is offered to Hollywood stars and more. Snippets of Vanderhaeghe’s brilliant novel will remind readers of a number of popular novels that successfully challenged them on the same topics – Tom Wolfe’s The Bonfire of the Vanities, Edith Wharton’s The Age of Innocence, Herman Wouk’s Marjorie Morningstar, F Scott Fitzgerald's The Great Gatsby and John Steinbeck’s Of Mice and Men, for example.

Compelling from first page to last, The Englishman’s Boy is the kind of novel that sticks in your craw and will force you to think about yourself, your country and your history for a long, long time to come. Highly recommended.

Paul Weiss

I love this account of the early years in Canada's Wild West, with Hollywood as part of the mix. I really need to reread it!

There are flashes of brilliance in this account, although it was a slower read the second time around.