Rodeo Cowboys in the North American Imagination (Wilbur S. Shepperson Series in History and Humanities)

Rating:
Summary: Let 'er buck!!
Review: Michael Allen is a folklorist and a rodeo fan. He's a Westerner, born and raised in Ellensburg in central Washington. When this book was published, he was on the faculty of the University of Washington -- probably still is. I say all this because his book is first of all an academic discussion of his subject. It's based on extensive reading and field research, and the analysis tackles a broad range of topics that comprise the discourse among a couple generations of folklorists who've focused on the culture of western Americana. In other words, while Allen clearly enjoys his subject, he's making arguments directed at fellow professionals who represent different points of view. Because of this, there's a steady flow of documentation, with plenty of footnotes. For the casual reader, all this may get a little heavy-going at times.

Allen covers many facets of his subject -- starting with the history of rodeo and looking at the rodeo cowboy as portrayed in movies and TV, folklore, literature, art, and country music. He also has a chapter on what he calls "rainbow rodeo riders" -- that is, minorities, such as Native Americans, African-Americans, women, gays and lesbians. There's also a glossary of rodeo cowboy lingo and a long annotated bibliography in the form of an essay.

Allen's argument rests on a couple of ideas that he acknowledges are debatable. The first is that "real cowboys" (as they existed over 100 years ago out on the unfenced Plains) are for the most part a thing of the past. Today, the role of the "real cowboy" is left to the rodeo cowboy, and (this is where I'd take exception) Allen pretty much ignores the host of working cowboys who still make a living on ranches in a dozen or more western states. But I'm not a folklorist, so that's just my nonprofessional opinion.

The other idea is that the rodeo cowboy represents a "contemporary ancestor" for modern-day Americans. He harks back to the American frontier of our imagination. In his risk-defiant, untamed, wandering, individualistic behavior, he represents what fans regard as essentially American in themselves. In other words, he's mythic -- he represents our deepest values and connects us with our past. These values are embraced by the Cowboy Code, which is an unwritten set of behavioral guidelines all men must aspire to if they are to be accepted into the elite fraternity of "real cowboys." Dating from cowboy culture as it took form in the 19th century, the Code survives today, apparently stronger than ever among the men who rodeo.

The irony is that Allen also reveals the dark side of the myth and the Code, for both thrive on a kind of extreme libertarianism that can be anti-social, intolerant, and misogynistic. While the cowboy with his six-gun "tamed" the West (in popular fiction and movies, at least), the archetypal cowboy is untamable himself. While that's part of his appeal (and there are popular outlaw cowboys aplenty, e.g., Billy the Kid), it also exposes the rodeo cowboy's unsavory side. Allen may not intend this, but this casts a shadow over his argument.

For all my reservations, I recommend this book. It's so full of ideas and ranges across more rodeo cowboy literature than I ever imagined existed. He's added several titles to my reading list. As companion volumes, I'd recommend Baxter Black's hilarious rodeo novel, "Hey, Cowboy, Wanna Get Lucky?" A great book of essays and rodeo photography can be found in Bob St. John's "On Down the Road," full of interviews with rodeo stars circa 1975. For a good recent rodeo movie, there's "Cowboy Up!" about bullriders. Let 'er buck!