Even Cowgirls Get The Blues (2001) - Plot & Excerpts
Okay. I was just gonna rate "Even Cowgirls Get the Blues," and then I realized I could not leave it at that. I mean. Reading the negative reviews got me to thinking, Since I know that, beyond a doubt, this book has flaws.I mean, look at these striking examples..1) Lesbian “sex” drawn so cartoonish that it is laughable.2) A teen-age cowgirl in a skirt so short that her crotch didn’t get the message is – well – so “seventeen year old boy reading Playboy while watching a scrambled Cinemax signal.”In short, preposterous. Exploitative. Etc. And the idea that all lesbians – and by extension, homosexuals like the Countess – are straight? Why, the idea would make Pat Robertson proud – until he read the book, that is.And this, mind you, is in a purportedly socially aware, feminist novel.Yikes. Shades of a stoner uncle preaching while reminiscing about seeing Dylan and Jefferson Airplane and the freaky stuff he saw in the seventies.And don’t get me started on the philosophy. It’s the sort of stuff we’d spin after smoking [tobacco, of course] from the hookah in my sophomore year in college. Speculating on matriarchal cultures being all peace, patriarchal all violence taking them over – despite archeological evidence to the contrary.Funny thing is, even Robbins acknowledges this – albeit from the mouth of Julian, the “civilized Indian” – riddled with asthma and other civilized evils. You know. The Noble Savage gone patriarchal? Of course he’s sick.Right. Obvious much?So let’s see. Bonanza Jelly Bean and a gaggle of scantily clad teen-aged cowgirls. A Nordic looking model with huge thumbs that makes an art of hitchhiking. A Japanese person who escapes and Internment camp in 1946 to be saved by some Amerindians living in the wilds who call him, on error, “The Chink.” A gay entrepreneur, turned off by feminine pheromones, who makes millions selling douches to kill that odor. The sickly civilized Indian. A dominatrix with a whip and a bag of peyote… and drugged-out whooping cranes, Feds, FBI, guns, explosions, outlaws.Hmmm. Let me guess. The seventies? Right as they “sold out?” Quaint, but not exactly “timeless” in the way Pynchon and Vonnegut are.And yet, despite this – I still like this novel. Sure, it is silly. Sure, it reeks of patchouli. And I hate having to move aside the lava lamp when I want to take notes. But it works at times, Especially when it talks about magic. Which is not about accepting or transcending reality, but transforming it. And when Robbins sparks magic, the novel works.At it's core -- despite the silly premise of Sissy Hankshaw's enormous thumbs -- "Even Cowgirls" is about the incomparable Bonanza Jelly Bean. Bonanza refuses to succumb to societal-imposed limitations about female gender roles, and becomes a cowgirl. But she doesn’t just become one on her own, but creates around her a space where other girls can dream and become themselves. She draws people into her dream, transforming them.I like that. To me, that is liberating. And spoiled by too much monkey-business. Robbins also seems to hit the mark on other things, too. Despite his all-thumbs handling of lesbian lust [sorry – could not resist], he hits the mark on love. Love hides behind all spirituality, so all love is spirit. And how rational minds tend to mash that love into rote and rite. From Debbie’s New Age philosophies that shift from day to day, to Christianity, to the greatest Hindu sages. Followers ossify their spiritual master’s thoughts, the love and juice squeezed out.In the end, this book does transform. It is not great – but it works.Somehow, I find something endearing about Robbins. The novel still managed to raise a few chuckles in my first reading after thirty years. But “Even Cowgirls” struck me as a relic of its time, showing its age less-well than other relics. Like how the Dead now seem quaint, but Marley still rings true and becomes classic.But at times, “Casey Jones” still hits the spot.
"AMAZING! This book came into my life by chance and I am glad it did. A hilarious and engaging read that also questioned and affirmed pieces of my own life in powerful ways. Apparently this book has been around for a generation, but I think it needs a rebirth - it is still relevant, maybe even moreso now that the "mainstream" has changed. Some specific points from the novel that I love: Why are white people always looking for spirituality in other cultures? We have a full, real, historically grounded tradition that we actively have thrown away and ignored. Stop going to Buddhist temples and sweat lodges - just look back a few generations of grandmothers! Women living in community - oh how close to home some of this landed. All of the conflicts, controversies and dilemmas of what it means to be a woman, especially in the absence of men. Is it a question we even want to answer? Meaning, to answer that question definitively would mean some separation, isolation, and denial that seems untruthful to me. Seriously though, there are some great kick-ass role model characters that put the options out there. Relationships on the move - the whole idea of wandering, creating real relationships, and also staying in the present and allowing life to flow as it comes. Our parents "got it" but I think more young people could internalize this message. On the other hand, see my notes on "Into the Wild" and note the difference between staying in the moment with your relationships, and being so self-centered that you don't allow yourself to trust or care for others and thus HAVE to wander... Anyways, classic Tom Robbins style keeps this an interesting read, with a fair amount of hilarious static to sort through before getting messages. But also interesting and hilarious in a way that is ultimately affirming and inspiring no matter what crazy situation you find yourself in. Read this to get/keep perspective on yourself and remember to laugh!
What do You think about Even Cowgirls Get The Blues (2001)?
Bah. Many people won't find this review helpful. I do care about that, but not enough to change my review, because I feel it encompasses my feelings for this book quite fully. Here it is:I had to choose between continuing to read ECGTB or staring at the back of the airplane seat in front of me. I chose the back of the seat.Repeatedly.I'd read a section, and think to myself "This is shit!" and put it down to stare at the seat in front of me. Then I would think to myself "Come on. You're on a plane, and you have a book to read--a book by a renowned author. Just read the damn thing!" But I couldn't!So I would stare at the seatback for awhile, then pick up the book again and try to read it. It didn't work. So I would put the book down again and stare. Rinse and repeat. Ugh!I don't hate this book, but I found it to be self-indulgent drivel. I couldn't finish it, and I can't remember the last book I could say that about.
—Robert Page
Oh, Tom Robbins. Tom Robbins, I would like to apologize to you. When I wrote that review of Still Life With Woodpecker, I was a little angry at you, but for reasons beyond your control. I do still kind of take issue with Tom Robbins for all of the things I mentioned in that review - namely, he could use a good editor. But my editor leanings can stop being so stuffy and be pushed aside.Even Cowgirls Get The Blues follows one miss Sissy Hankshaw, a woman with extraordinarily large thumbs and a passion for hitchhiking. She loves her Native American blood but also loves a band of Cowgirls who become her cohorts. The plot order is not so chronological, but one of the book's themes takes issue with the concept of time, so it makes sense for time to not quite fit in there. Other themes are pretty much the kind of thing I eat up - relationships, strong women, travel, identity ("normal" and "strange").In comparison to Still Life With Woodpecker, Cowgirls does feel more thought-out, less random, overall more cohesive, though, in retrospect, I like Woodpecker more than I did at the time. Sometimes a writer takes something that is so important to you (in this case, good editing), and gives it the middle finger, so the knee-jerk response is something of a "fuck you." Truth is, I don't think Robbins could be edited well, so he may as well not be edited at all. The best thing about Robbins is his voice, and any person mucking around with it is just going to make it weaker.He's also better at simile & metaphor than any other author I can name, so if you ever want to learn how to do those things well, with panache, with flair, with personality, pick up something by Robbins.
—Taylor
Somehow I have to confess I think I would have liked this much better had it been written by a female. Even though it is hard not to react simplistically to the hormonal changes in history. I get the blues every so often and you should see the result. I'll tell you one thing, this kind of steroidal prose it isn't.I don't respond well to all the explosions points and badly harnessed big boobs; as a cowgirl I'm a centipede, and my skin goes splotchy in the desert sun; cringing, I still have to cross the road rather than pass in front of the American bar. I drop the lead singer's harmonica in the toilet in honor of Thomas Pynchon but I don't tell anyone. I have to sit in for the set but I'm afraid of all the geek rowdies in Madam's Organ. The electric piano sounds like a harmonium in distress. My nerves shattering, I start to punch out the performance. Good morning little schoolgirl. I could play this blindfolded and devoutly wish I were. A decent pair of ear plugs might be my second wish, and inside my mind I hear Lli Boulanger's Trois morceaux. But I need the money don't I?
—Hortense
