The story of a man and his success, tarnished by
the hidden inhibitions that mark a tragic existence!
There was the land the town represented.
The land lies dark and hilly in that part of Nebraska:
the rich black dirt goes down more than nine feet in
places. Not much good most years, though. Too dry; or
the hoppers get everything. But the land is there. And
where a long time ago some Indian god dug up the fer-
tile soil with his giant plow stick, the earth is hilled up
in a long sweep of arroyos, canyons and sharply defiled
creek beds. Across these aged wrinkles in the earth s
belly, the waters of the Republican River wash in their
relentless churning march to the sea...
Here is a novel about this stark land and the destiny of
those who live there; a novel of the frailty of a man and
a woman.
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