The Wanton Troopers by Alden Nowlan (re-relased Reader’s Guide Edition)

Goose Lane (2009), 297 pages

Goose Lane recently re-released the legendary Alden Nowlan’s first novel, The Wanton Troopers, after discovering its missing last page. You can read about that unique story, as well as the remarkable life story of Alden Nowlan by clicking here. This re-released reader’s guide edition comes with features like a sincere afterword by David Adams Richards, and a 36-page long interview with Nowlan, that is quite honestly among my favourite author interviews I’ve ever read. The book is worth it for the interview alone.

The Wanton Troopers is a novel in line with of Wayne Johnston’s The Story of Bobby O’Malley or Frank McCourt’s Angela’s Ashes, except there is less humour and a more poetic prose. Troopers precedes them both and relies more heavily on the power of language and the irrevocable potency of moments. It should be noted up front that Nowlan was primarily a poet, a renowned poet. When you hear of a novel written by a poet, you expect a certain brilliance in the writing itself, and in the case of this novel, he follows through. There is a consistent attention to detail that boasts itself in the very opening line: “It was raining so hard that Kevin thought God must have torn a hole in the sky and let all the rivers of heaven spill upon earth. The cold spring rain hit the roof with the force of gravel.”

The backcover describes the novel very well: Kevin O’Brien is caught between heaven and hell, torn between the tenderness of his young, adulterous mother and the brutality of his work-gnarled, drunken father. Kevin’s world is unrelenting: bone-crushing poverty, bullying, his first adolescent yearnings, and the fire of sin. Yet, in Kevin’s imagination, there is hope.

It is in Nowlan’s capturing of moments, most notably the shared moments of peace and intimacy between Kevin and his mother, where this book shines. Brightly. As an example, speaking of his mother washing him, “The wind howled like a drowning beast. Inside, there was the warmth and light and music of his mother’s hands and body … he might have been part of her body. She washed him as she washed her own hands. He was, all of him, hers: not the smallest part of him belonged any longer to himself. And in this surrender, there was pervasive peace.” That is one of many passages of Kevin clinging to moments of tenderness and love in an otherwise hostile home, in an ensnaring town that breaks men like horses. And it is no coincidence that during these moments of shared peace and intimacy, his father is never around, or he pipes up to ruin the moment.  His father is always skilfully and intentionally portrayed with beastial imagery: always “roaring” or “glaring” or “growling” but never simply saying or asking, always described like a wretched animal — “Judd O’Brien’s arms were bludgeons, and his horny, yellow fingernails reminded Kevin of hooves.” This was in harsh contrast to his angelic mother and their shared, ethereal moments. “His relationship with his father attained its epitome through the strap,” and these violent scenes are the ones that linger. The ones that taint everything, as Kevin periodically despises himself and even his mother. “He hated her when she caressed him before his father, for he knew that Judd despised all caresses as symptoms of weakness.” 

But it’s the glimmer of resilience in this story, and the humanity of it, the real life story of Alden Nowlan, and rooting for alter-ego Kevin that resonates. Nothing captures this sentiment more than Kevin’s symbolic admiration, on pages 21 and 22, as he identifies with beaten horses. “Something in him responded to the secret light he saw in their eyes, the freedom and grace that could never be wholly destroyed by work or punishment but ended only with death.”

This novel  is tender, it’s bold, it’s beautifully written. It affects you in a very important way. It hurts to read; it’s a pleasure to read. It is honest and resonates as it cuts through to the core of humanity and the need for human connection and self-discovery in the least fertile of places.  That said, some readers will find that, in places, the novel loses momentum into a questionable digression. And, in parts, Kevin’s dated and ineffective dialogue of “Gee” and “Gosh”come off as weak, mismatched responses to pivotal, intense moments in the book.

Nowlan’s The Wanton Troopers combines the authenticity of autobiography with a born poet’s lush prose, and the effect is affecting.