Tabor Evans

Longarm goes under cover as something of a dandy rogue to try and get a line on a corrupt judge or judges. The idea is to recapture an ex-fugitive who was released early from prison by paying off said judge(s) via an equally corrupt lawyer. The premise of the story is good, but it is kind of a long, meandering, silly tale to get there.

What is always fun and good though about these books is when they intertwine real historical events related to the time and place as well as the country the show more stories take place in. We get some of that here, and that is always a plus. And then sometimes it is just plain enjoyable writing; like I liked this little passage:

"Longarm turned his winning hand face up and nobody objected as he raked in the twenty-five dollar pot. But Diamond Donald didn't look at all pleased when his sucker pocketed his winnings and rose from the table, thanking one and all for letting him sit in a hand."

"'Just one hand? You mean to quit after winning just one hand?' the chagrined Diamond Donald demanded."

"Smiling down pleasantly, Longarm said, 'All my dear old daddy left me was an almost empty fifth of Jamaica rum and the advice from one who knew I should always quit when I was ahead.'"

["All my dear old daddy left me was an almost empty fifth of Jamaica rum and...." That's funny and good storytelling.] show less

This was actually a good, well-written story. Much better than your average Pulp Western. Longarm chases after a fugitive, has to go undercover as a riverboat hand (something he knows nothing about and doesn't quite manage to fake), and before long is embroiled in something much, much bigger.

Surprisingly good. Well-peppered throughout with historical facts, and even some biblical musing on who may have killed Jesus Christ (who had the most to gain - or lose - as well as who had opportunity in addition to where exactly). I felt that Longarm and the Bad Girls of Rio Blanco was written much more like a mystery rather than your standard a shoot ‘em up pulp western.

Curtis Long and his reputation is known far and wide, and by every race, creed, and color. That was well summarized in show more this funny bit, the kind of thing thrown in that I thought set this book apart from most of the others:

"You are Saltu ka Taibo!" she accused, wide-eyed, before she broke into a radiant smile and continued, "Real people told me you might be coming this way to hunt for bad Taibo for a change, and we thought this would be a good thing."

He was neither flattered nor dismayed by the simple statement of fact his Ute nickname stated. Saltu ka Taibo translated roughly as "stranger who is not a fucking son of a bitch," albeit some Indians held a Taibo was lower than any son of a bitch when they used it to designate a white stranger. show less

Wow, so I don't normally review Pulp Westerns because they are supposed to be quick, fast, simple, fun reads, but this one isn't even close to that. Maybe because it is a Giant, but I don't believe I have had that problem before. This one took me like a month to read. In the parlance of today, Longarm was boring as F-! He'd be cogitating and cogitating and cogitating some more; sometimes with other lawmen, sometimes with country and townfolk, and sometimes with his horses, but he never show more seemed to ever get his fill. This was one big mystery that had our Curtis Long stumped something good, and it was about the slowest developing story ever.

If you ever wanted to spend hours and hours trying to sort out each and every Native American tribe and dialect of Plains and Eastern Woodland Indians as well as the multi-factored "breeds and assimilants" and every possible combination thereof, and how they all get mixed together and sorted – maybe – in Longarm's mind while he cogitates then this is your book.

There are a few interesting historical figures added to the story, like Ezra Cornell, Harriet Tubman, and Allan Pinkerton among others, but those were a few lines at most. All I can really say is: man, this was a long, tough read. show less