The Virginian was published in 1902 by Owen Wister
(1860-1938). The novel received critical acclaim and was a huge bestseller,
eventually spawning five films, a successful play, and a television series. The
Virginian was an instant success, selling over 20,000 copies in the first
month, an astonishing number for the time. It went on to sell over 200,000
copies in the first year and over 1.5 million before Wister’s death. This minor
classic has never been out of print. Beyond the multiple works that carry its
name, The Virginian has inspired hundreds of stories about the Old West.
What made this novel so appealing?
Critics credit The Virginian with establishing Old
West legends and genre stereotypes. Sergio Leone’s protagonist had no name, and
the Virginian’s name is never mentioned. He’s a laconic cowboy who lives by his
own code and was extremely capable in every undertaking, including fighting
with fists, guns, or words. The book’s lament for a dying way of life is
recounted endlessly. Like Jake Spoon in Lonesome Dove, the Virginian hangs his
friend after he turns outlaw. The buildup to the final shootout has been
repeated countless times.
Can the book’s enduring popularity be attributed solely to
being first? Many dime novels preceded The Virginian, but most were
shoddy. Wister wrote the genre’s first literary example. A fresh story helped
generate sales at the century’s turn, but more was required for sales to last
over a century and for the story to be retold on stage, in movie houses, and on
television.
There are three qualities that make The Virginian
timeless. It’s a classic fish-out-of-water tale that appeals to both sexes and
realistically portrays life on the frontier.
The narrator, Wister himself, is a city-dweller from
Philadelphia, on an adventure in the Wild West. The love-interest, a schoolmarm
from the East, can’t fathom the Code of the West. Even the Virginian is a
transplant. Not only is this a fresh tale, but one told by fresh eyes,
wide-open in awe of all about them. This stark, new world is described by
people from another part of the planet—a part with civilization, comfortable
social norms, and constable-imposed order. The Virginian is partly autobiographical,
and Wister draws on his contemporaneous journals to inject a sense of
wonderment into the story. Wister liked the Old West, and he gets his readers to
like it as well.
Runaway bestsellers are read by both sexes. The
Virginian’s plot follows classic Western lines, appealing to men. More
importantly, Wister describes male comradeship in a male-dominated culture.
Pranks, ribbing, athletic prowess, and rough language will be recognized by men
who have played team sports or served in the military—at least those who
participated before women entered these previously exclusive domains. To men,
the Virginian’s world feels familiar and comfortable.
Wister offers two plotlines for women. Molly Stark Wood, a
Vermont heroine, faces struggle in a foreign land and culture. From a family
proud of its education, she is horrified by random violence and vigilantism.
Her ability to overcome fear and bring order to her part of the frontier shows
rare female bravery in Westerns. In most lesser stories, women need a valiant
knight. Molly, however, manages on her own, and how she does so adds spice to The
Virginian.
The Virginian is also a love story. The hero doesn’t
ride off into the sunset; he marries the heroine. And he goes to Vermont to
meet her family. The clash of cultures flips when the Virginian takes tea and
banters with nonplused eastern ladies.
Wister wrote fiction, but he experienced the nineteenth-century Old West and wrote from personal experience. Many incidents in The Virginian came from his journals. This gives the story an air of authenticity that lesser works lack. Probably only The Virginian and Roughing It, by Mark Twain, give us actual observers’ descriptions of the Wild West. The lifestyle, implements, and ethos of the era ring true in both books—even if a bit exaggerated (again, in both books) for entertainment purposes. When we read historical fiction, realism allows us to live in another time.
As I read this book, I thought how cool would it be for the Easterner to be more than an observer. What if he became personally involved in the adventures of the Wild West? And that’s how The Virginian inspired the Steve Dancy series. As homage to the original, the first scene of The Shopkeeper opens with a whist card game—the same game Wister's cowboys play in the bunkhouse.
The Virginian is more than just the first of its kind. It’s a well-told
story with sophisticated subplots. Though the century-old style can seem
difficult, you forget the formality once you are engaged in the plot. This
novel will still be selling in the twenty-second century.
