Despite the fact that I’m a native Texas - one of a long line of Texans - I had never read this “iconic” book. I had never even seen the film. But at the beginning of the year I was passing through Marfa, Texas, and my road-trip partner pointed out the Hotel Paisano - where Elizabeth Taylor, Rock Hudson, James Dean and various others stayed during the making of the film. To my delight, the hotel had a copy - and with the memory of the Trans-Pecos landscape fresh in my mind, I began reading it on the plane ride back to London from Austin.
The author, Edna Ferber, was a really interesting person: she was a career writer (first journalism, and then books and plays) - and she never married. She wrote another book called So Big that won the Pulitzer Prize, and it describes a woman who successfully runs a farm in Illinois. (I read it a few years ago with a Pulitzer Prize reading group, and it was one of the few novels that we unanimously loved.) Ferber’s work always has a feminist slant, but sometimes you have to look for it. In this case, the character of Leslie Lynnton - a Virginian who comes to Texas as a bride - is the outsider who draws attention to the underlying sexism and racism of the “great state of Texas.”
Giant was written in the early 1950s and they made the famous film of it only a few years after that. I’ve long been fascinated by the social history of the United States, and how the post-war 1950s became this culturally conservative era after several decades of women making all sorts of important advancements in terms of equality with men. This tension really plays out in the marriage between Leslie and Jordan “Bick” Benedict - who are the main characters. The novel is told from a third-person point of view, and yet it is Leslie’s experience and conscience which shapes it. The role of the “outsider” is absolutely crucial.
The book shows the ugliness of Texas while simultaneously playing to the exaggerated, mythic aspects of it. It doesn’t shy away from demonstrating how enormous fortunes, held by a relatively small number of people, were made by exploiting natural resources and people. Historically, it captures a moment of transition: it’s set in between the 1920s and 1950s, at the moment when the discovery of oil displaced the big cattle ranches.
As previously mentioned, Leslie is from Virginia - which is the “old world” to Texas’s frontier. Her father is an important doctor who is devoted to his work. Dr. Lynnton has only had daughters and he has encouraged them to be intelligent, well-informed and confident in holding their place in any conversation or debate. When Bick Benedict comes to Virginia to buy a horse, he becomes intrigued by Leslie - who is so unlike the Texas women he knows - and within a matter of days, he whisks her off to his enormous ranch in Texas. Leslie is fascinated by Texas, but from the beginning - from their first breakfast in Virginia - she and Bick argue about the state’s history. I suppose their “sparks fly” attraction is romantic, but for a more modern sensibility, It’s obvious that their relationship is based on nothing much more than sexual attraction and the fascination of opposites. From the very beginning, and throughout their marriage, Bick is nettled by Leslie’s curiosity, intelligence and social conscience. She is disgusted by the sexism and racism she encounters in Texas and is always trying to challenge that status quo. I hated the way that Bick is attracted to the way that Leslie is different from the Texas women he has known, (despite himself, you get the feeling), and then always holds it against her. At least the author Edna Ferber does get in some licks, though. In one of their big fights, Bick asks Leslie, “When are you going to settle down and behave like everyone else?” And she replies, emphatically: “Never!”
Bick was probably a more appealing romantic hero in the 1950s. He hasn’t aged well, particularly since his desire and need for absolute power and control is his defining personality characteristic. His obsession is cross-breeding cattle to achieve the “perfect” specimen for meat quality and animal health - in other words, he wants to both create new life and better what has previously existed. Nothing matters to him more than Reata, his enormous ranch, and he will go to any lengths to maintain its boundaries, its traditions and its power.
One of the things that really interested me about the book was the relationship between Texas and Mexico - and how porous the border has always been, both literally and culturally. The book touches upon various aspects of how these huge Texas ranches were created and then preserved. The white European “Americans” used all sorts of trickery to cheat the Spanish land grant owners, who arguably had their own dubious claims to all of this land. The storyline really does explore the relationship between the Mexican vaqueros on the ranch and the white owners - and there are all of these contradictions in terms of how their lives are intermingled and yet also kept rigidly separate. (Understandably, there is far more detail of this relationship in the book than in the film.)
There is an important moment in the book when Bick’s older uncle (“Uncle Bawley”) admits to Leslie that “the whole of Texas was built on the bent backs of Mexicans.” Of course that is not the line that her husband takes, and we are shown how the local ranch owners and powerful men make sure that their Mexican employees always vote in line with their employers.
Still, Ferber is hopeful enough about the state of Texas - and the United States - to write a story in which social attitudes and racial barriers begin to change in the next generation.
I don’t think this book is a masterpiece, by any means, but it did have some interesting insights into the past and present (circa 1950s) of Texas. It doesn’t have the depth of a book like East of Eden, but it was undeniably entertaining.