Louis Dearborn L’Amour (1908 - 1988) was one of America’s most prolific and best-selling authors of Western novels. I grew up reading his books, and I had the good fortune of meeting him once when I was a youngster.
As an adult, I have been revisiting his novels to see if they are as good as I remember them. Reading his books today with a more critical eye, I find them to be as enjoyable as ever, but I also see flaws, inconsistencies, and improbabilities that I missed when I was in - to quote the Bard - my salad days, when I was green in judgment.
Here you'll find a series of essays and related commentary on L'Amour's novels, with my own idiosyncratic commentary. Although I can’t resist poking fun at L’Amour and his stories, I do it with affection and admiration, for whatever else I might say, I recognize L’Amour as a master of his genre, who has given pleasure to millions of readers.
