Ondaatje Creates a "Western Gothic"

Although it seems like everyone else has beaten me to the punch, I’d like to add my praise for Ondaatje’s book. Part of the reason I enjoyed this book so much, was its ability to take an approach I normally wouldn’t like. Photos, drawings and faux newspaper interviews would probably be placed in the category of kitschy, or at least campy, but somehow the mundane authenticity of much of Ondaatje’s poetry and prose make an otherwise gimmicky concept, quiet, old and sad.
I really enjoyed the shifting between poetry and prose, and although I know the matching of medium and content was deliberate, I haven’t quite figured out the reasoning behind it. What stood out most to me was the tone, which I can really only think to categorize as Western Gothic. Ondaatje uses irony, the grotesque, and our conceptions of frontier culture to construct complex characters, which surprise us, and simultaneously fall into some stereotype or another. There’s also an element of exaggeration or embellishment for the sake of allegory or illusion to a biblical or mythological figure (all of which are present in the established Southern Gothic genre).
The poem detailing the death of Gregory (page 15) utilizes nearly all of the devises of what would be considered this idea of Western Gothic. The poem is written in a distinct western dialect (“I’d shot him well and careful”), and employs both absurdity and the grotesque. The image of a chicken ripping a vein from a man’s neck is certainly misshapen, but the inclusion of “it was 12 yards long/ as if it held that body like a kite” is nothing short of ridiculous. Also, the poem for me seemed to have a strong illusion to Prometheus, despite my inability to relate the two figures. Lastly, the poem ends with an almost inappropriate irony- a stereotypical western saying made laughable by a literal chicken.
The prose piece on 22 also has a strong gothic presence, mainly in the dramatization of the scene. Charlie walks in a straight line, bleeding from the stomach, “already dead” towards Pat Garret, who simply says “Hello, Charlie,” is an obvious heroism of what would have otherwise been another mundane casualty of the west. Once again, Ondaatje ends with a strong illusion, this time to the apocalypse, writing “No windows, the door open so we could see. Four horses outside.”
It seems all the characters are given an unexpected depth and complexity that’s directly juxtaposed by the inconsequential nature in which most of them die. Aside from BTK, (whose intrigue is in large part to his position as the narrator), Pat Garrett commands the most attention, and is more developed than most characters in poetry. The prose piece detailing the complexity of Garrett (page 28-29) draws on the reader’s inability to identify Garrett as a protagonist or antagonist. Also, the absurdity of his biography seems typically Southern Gothic, an “academic murderer,” fluent in unused French and drinking enough to kill another man.
The Collection's originality and authenticity of Ondaatje’s voice that allow him to delve so completely into a world that is rarely examined through a poetic scope.