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thenschultz's review against another edition
challenging
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
4.5
This is a difficult book to know how to rate. The heart of the book is a look at the colonization of the Oklahoma region in the US. The author confirms, in her introduction, that many of the experiences in the book are the result of research and conversations with those who participated in taking the territory. It bears the hallmark traits of being written in the 1930s - a nostalgia for a simpler time, a slight heroification of "early pioneers", and, namely, racism. The book compelled me to research and attempt to understand Edna Ferber. She is known for being one of the few authors of the time to write about the interior lives of women alongside black and indigenous populations. She does so, however, through a lens that today is troubling. While she describes how her characters feel toward non-white characters, her own descriptors are incredibly racist. At moments she brings to life the interior black and indigenous characters but even then, it can be troubling. If Ferber was ahead of her time, today, this book may be best read as a museum piece. Despite this, I was deeply moved by the final pages and what Ferber had brought to life. As a slice of history that brings to vivid life a period in history, through the lens of dominators, it is fascinating and worthy of studying and reading. As a piece of pure fiction for enjoyment, it may be best left behind.
Content Warnings
Graphic: Racism
As noted in my review, the book itself suffers from racism deeply imbedded in the writing and descriptions of characters. While far ahead of its time in the 1930s, the language today is incredibly troubling.ifyouhappentoremember's review against another edition
3.0
This was… not great. Uneven is the best word to describe it. There are interesting ideas and themes explored but it’s handled clumsily. I also think this book aged very poorly, especially in regards to the Native American characters.
The biggest problem is that the book feels incredibly rushed at the end; years can pass in mere paragraphs and the big emotional moment in the final chapter felt like I was reading a Wikipedia summary.
I will maintain that So Big is Ferber’s best book.
The biggest problem is that the book feels incredibly rushed at the end; years can pass in mere paragraphs and the big emotional moment in the final chapter felt like I was reading a Wikipedia summary.
I will maintain that So Big is Ferber’s best book.
spinnerroweok's review against another edition
4.0
I liked this book. It started off telling the story of Sabra Cravat and the birth of Oklahoma. But in the end, it just jumped around too much. It also appears very racist by today's standards which might turn people off, but I think is probably an accurate reflection of people's attitudes in those days. I recommend if you can look past these faults.
dangersquirrel's review against another edition
adventurous
dark
emotional
informative
reflective
sad
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
3.0
Significant improvement over the movie. The bitter tone casts an extremely dour light on the settler colonialism at hand. The characters are devastatingly modern: the wife so caught up in victimizing herself as a white woman that she doesn't bother to confront her own racism, and the husband whose commitment to being a champion of the oppressed that he fails to account for the ways he perpetuates inequality in his own relationships.
Of course, despite many very progressive stances, the writing itself is so entrenched in reconstruction-era conceptions of race that it presents a lot of really offensive ideas with a great deal of pride. Even in 1930 some of the stereotyping of Black and Native people was pretty regressive. The one Jewish character is also interesting, as some of the ways Ferber approaches him are in many ways gratifying due to her insider perspective on Judaism in the last gasps of the Frontier West, but others are still offensive in how they assess Judaism through that turn-of-the-century eugenics lens.
I ultimately was very frustrated by the underlying racism, but still was more engaged by this story than most of the other Oscars-related books I've read.
Of course, despite many very progressive stances, the writing itself is so entrenched in reconstruction-era conceptions of race that it presents a lot of really offensive ideas with a great deal of pride. Even in 1930 some of the stereotyping of Black and Native people was pretty regressive. The one Jewish character is also interesting, as some of the ways Ferber approaches him are in many ways gratifying due to her insider perspective on Judaism in the last gasps of the Frontier West, but others are still offensive in how they assess Judaism through that turn-of-the-century eugenics lens.
I ultimately was very frustrated by the underlying racism, but still was more engaged by this story than most of the other Oscars-related books I've read.
nwhyte's review against another edition
4.0
https://nwhyte.livejournal.com/2899947.html
Cimarron is a really good book, a feminist text (the words "feminist" and "feminism" are actually used) whose guts were torn out of it by Hollywood. The central character of the novel is Sabra Cravat, daughter of a Southern family who moved to Kansas after the Civil War; having married Yancey at a very young age, she is swept off to Oklahoma by him. She breaks away from the stereotypes of her Southern parents, and gets over many of her own hangups, to build a new version of society in the town of Osage, to the point where she herself is elected to Congress. Cimarron was the best-selling novel in America in 1930, and the film's popularity must surely have been a reward for its insipid reflection of the popular original text. I was struck that the opening titles featured the characters and actors playing each, which looked like an assumption that many viewers would already be familiar with them.
However, we are a long way from intersectionality, and the book is still pretty racist, if not quite as racist as the film. There is still only one named black character (who suffers an even more horrible end than his screen version), though it's also clear that there are lots of others in the town. While Sabra's view of the Indians is pretty bigoted, the unreliable Yancey is totally on their side, and preaches to her frequently about the disgrace of the Trail of Tears and the awful things that white men have done; this is somehow dropped from the film. (Also worth noting that the Vice-President of the United States at the time the film was made was actually descended from the Osage tribe, and remains the only Native American to have served at the top of the executive branch.) The one Jewish character is sympathetically treated in both book and film, but the nasty anti-Semitism of the baddies in the book doesn't make it to the screen.
The feminism of the book is completely erased by the film, in that Yancey is given much more screen time and better lines (though his defence of the Indians is removed), and we are cut off from Sabra's internal dialogue, which is the loudest voice in the novel; it is replaced by Turner’s sighs and meaningful glances. The sub-plot with the sex workers in the book is explicitly a dialogue about different visions of womanhood in the new society that is being built, but becomes just a humorous set of vignettes in the film (apart from Yancey's courtroom defence of Dixie Lee, which in fairness is actually done better on screen than on the page). I'm not especially well versed in the early twentieth century history of American feminism, but it seemed clear to me that the makers of a Hollywood blockbuster did not feel able to reflect the feminism of their source text.
I enjoyed the book much more than I had expected to, and the film's success was surely in large part a homage to the work it was based on.
Cimarron is a really good book, a feminist text (the words "feminist" and "feminism" are actually used) whose guts were torn out of it by Hollywood. The central character of the novel is Sabra Cravat, daughter of a Southern family who moved to Kansas after the Civil War; having married Yancey at a very young age, she is swept off to Oklahoma by him. She breaks away from the stereotypes of her Southern parents, and gets over many of her own hangups, to build a new version of society in the town of Osage, to the point where she herself is elected to Congress. Cimarron was the best-selling novel in America in 1930, and the film's popularity must surely have been a reward for its insipid reflection of the popular original text. I was struck that the opening titles featured the characters and actors playing each, which looked like an assumption that many viewers would already be familiar with them.
However, we are a long way from intersectionality, and the book is still pretty racist, if not quite as racist as the film. There is still only one named black character (who suffers an even more horrible end than his screen version), though it's also clear that there are lots of others in the town. While Sabra's view of the Indians is pretty bigoted, the unreliable Yancey is totally on their side, and preaches to her frequently about the disgrace of the Trail of Tears and the awful things that white men have done; this is somehow dropped from the film. (Also worth noting that the Vice-President of the United States at the time the film was made was actually descended from the Osage tribe, and remains the only Native American to have served at the top of the executive branch.) The one Jewish character is sympathetically treated in both book and film, but the nasty anti-Semitism of the baddies in the book doesn't make it to the screen.
The feminism of the book is completely erased by the film, in that Yancey is given much more screen time and better lines (though his defence of the Indians is removed), and we are cut off from Sabra's internal dialogue, which is the loudest voice in the novel; it is replaced by Turner’s sighs and meaningful glances. The sub-plot with the sex workers in the book is explicitly a dialogue about different visions of womanhood in the new society that is being built, but becomes just a humorous set of vignettes in the film (apart from Yancey's courtroom defence of Dixie Lee, which in fairness is actually done better on screen than on the page). I'm not especially well versed in the early twentieth century history of American feminism, but it seemed clear to me that the makers of a Hollywood blockbuster did not feel able to reflect the feminism of their source text.
I enjoyed the book much more than I had expected to, and the film's success was surely in large part a homage to the work it was based on.
rdebner's review against another edition
3.0
What I really like about Edna Ferber's books is that they are concretely located in specific places and times and, when possible, she has gone to those places to talk to people. This brings her books alive, because the way that people talk and act seems particular to that space/time location, whether it is the settling of Oklahoma (as in Cimarron), Texas oil country (Giant, Wisconsin lumberjacks (Come and Get It), or pre-statehood Alaska (Ice Palace).
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