Well, all it took was one good evening of reading to get through the slim little Duane Moore update. Overall, not bad. As always, McMurtry makes me laugh out loud when he writes Texas dialogue. Crikey, I can just hear it, because I’ve heard it all my life. It’s a very good ear he has, and I appreciate that.

I also have always felt a kinship to Duane, too, even though he’s about a generation ahead of me and richer than hell. I’ve always shared his overall bewilderment at the world and how rapidly it changes, and the people in it and how unknowable they really are. Particulary women. In reality, though, I’m probably more kin to Bobby Lee, his oldest friend and overall dipstick, who’s equally as mystified as Duane, if not more.

The sex scenes in the second half aren’t all that pervasive like the blurb below would have you believe. They’re there, and it’s not too terrible. Since McMurtry decided to make this about the saving grace of love and sex, they’re fairly inevitable, but it’s less graphic and clinical than a lot of ostensible literature that I’ve suffered through, so meh. Don’t let it keep you from enjoying the denouement of Duane & Thalia.