Pinnacle Jake

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Pinnacle Jake—the memoirs of a genuine cowhand from the late 19^th century—sometimes reads as a 1950s TV western.  There are roundups, cattle rustlers, an epic fistfight, blizzards and floods, and some of the things that might make a good yarn.

The book is structured like a transcript of an audio recording.  The occasional poor grammar, the homespun expressions, and the matter-of-fact presentation create a personal and casual setting—almost like sitting on the porch on a summer’s evening listening to Grandad reminisce about his youth.

If you are not actually one of the grandkids, however, the narrative is often redundant and somewhat boring. You hate to skip anything, though, because occasionally a real nugget gets through.

A word of warning:  Jake’s perspectives reflect those of his time.  He is generally not disrespectful of Native Americans and African Americans, but you will find occasional use of offensive racial epithets.

There’s no doubt that Pinnacle Jake was quite a character.  But the book’s appeal is narrow—those with a strong interest in history of the western US or perhaps those residing in Jake’s old stomping grounds in Nebraska, Wyoming and Montana. 

The rest of us, though, might be better off watching an old western.

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