I was very excited to get into this, based on the premise and the combination of genres. A historical fiction-slash-horror novel about a member of the Blackfoot tribe getting revenge on the people who massacred his people? With a murky supernatural element adding a bit of mystery to the proceedings? Sounds great.
So I’m very disappointed to report that The Buffalo Hunter Hunter just wasn’t for me. My main problem is the pacing. People who like this book (and judging from online reactions, there are a lot of them) will all Stephen Graham Jones’s novel a “slow-build.” But to me, it was just impenetrably dull. The pacing is way off. Incidents that could take up half a sentence linger for three paragraphs. Whole chapters go by without much incident.
The format plays a role here. The novel is three connected narratives. In the frame story, an academic struggling to hold on to a career in academia thinks she has found a godsend when her great-great-grandfather’s journal is unearthed. A Montana pastor around the turn of the 20th Century, Arthur Beaucarne’s journal forms most of the book, though the journal also includes his transcriptions with a Blackfoot he calls Good Stab. In their transcribed conversations, Good Stab tells Beaucarne a fantastical story about his incredibly long, violent life.
Graham Jones is very deliberate in his prose, which I do admire. The most intriguing aspect of the novel is the contrast between Good Stab’s account and the pastor’s reaction to it. Beaucarne at first seems tolerant of Good Stab, but over time his condescension toward him becomes clearer. He is naturally skeptical of the story he is told, but for reasons having more to do with his ill-informed opinions of Native Americans than the fantastical elements of the story itself.
This contrast, though interesting, is not enough to sustain attention through the slower passages. The book’s pace is slowed down further by both character’s prose. Pastor Beaucarne writes in a languid, looping style that may provide characterization, but not excitement. Good Stab’s narrative is intentionally confusing, as he switches between English terms and Blackfoot terms for various things. Graham Jones expects the reader figure out for themselves what most of these terms mean, like which animal is a “real-bear” and which is a “sticky mouth,” for example. Graham Jones certainly has good reasons for rendering the story this way, but that it is little consolation to a reader desperate to understand what is happening.
In full disclosure, I must admit that the pace and the prose eventually overwhelmed me. With the pressure of a library deadline weighing down on me, I tried in vain to get to the finish line, but ultimately my lack of understanding made the effort pointless. This is a rare DNF for me, though I suspect those with more patience will get something out of it I could not.