Lean on Pete

Not since John Steinbeck's The Red Pony has a horse been so effectively tortured in the name of literature.

When the horse (read symbol of freedom) is a broken down navicular Quarter Horse named Lean on Pete and the journey involves all a protaganist's worldly possessions numbered in pocket change and canned goods you know you're firmly in Willy Vlautin territory.

Not only is this book tear inducing, it is also panic attack inducing. Anybody who has ever lived on a knife edge budget, anyone who never once took anything from an evicited person's pile for fear it would someday be them, will see their worst fears realized in this novel.

But, we are firmly in Willy Vlautin territory so there is hope. Hope that tomorrow might be better. Hope that a lucky break is just around the corner. And, again because we are in Willy Vlautin territory, that lucky break might be something as small and prosaic as a kind word from a stranger. Or a meal. Or a ride. (Again, shades of Steinbeck especially the kids with the candy scene from The Grapes of Wrath.) I wouldn't presume to speak for the author on matters of religion but I bet his creed starts and ends with The Golden Rule.

One thing I will presume to say is that Willy Vlautin did not write this book to change anyone's behavior-regardless, it has changed mine. Since reading it I have kept the watchful corner of my eye out, looking for those people who, like Charley, might need the small everyday gifts that I am able to give. That all of us are able to give when our eyes are opened enough to see the opportunities to do so.