Howard Frank Mosher
From the Missouri Breaks to the Rocky Mountains, and the Canadian border to Mexico, no novelist since Wallace Stegner has written as well about the American West as Larry McMurtry. By Sorrow's River, volume three of McMurtry's Berrybender Narratives, is no exception. It's lively, funny, historically illuminating and, best of all, full of unforgettable individualists, from an irascible English big-game hunter, Lord Berrybender himself, to his headstrong and beautiful daughter, Tasmin.
— The Washington Post
Publishers Weekly
Molina keeps the bar raised high with his latest performance of McMurtry's third Berrybender Narrative. As with his readings of the previous two volumes, Sin Killer and The Wandering Hill, Molina creates richly nuanced voices for the many characters in this Wild West tale, from the energetic and innocent young guide Kit Carson to the comically selfish old Lord Berrybender, whose pursuit of drink, fornication and wildlife to shoot is what has brought his aristocratic, idiosyncratic and self-centered British clan to the wild and unforgiving Great Plains. This installment revolves around Berrybender's eldest daughter, Tasmin. Having married and mothered a child with the stoic and sometimes brutal frontiersman Jim Snow, also known as the Sin Killer, Tasmin's heart is now drawn to their quiet and emotionally distant guide, Pomp Charbonneau. Though the story seems to lose some of its steam as it explores the nuances of Tasmin's torn-between-two-lovers quandary, Molina's pace never slows. Even when he is not breathing life into a character, his role as narrator is played with such earnest urgency that it keeps the momentum high and the listener wanting more. Simultaneous release with the S&S hardcover (Forecasts, Aug. 25, 2003). (Nov.) Copyright 2004 Reed Business Information.
Library Journal
One tends to think that the Great Plains of the 1830s was empty, but the wandering Berrybenders manage to meet just about everyone who was anyone at the time. This third of a four-part series suffers because there is no beginning and no end-the action is much the same as in the previous installments. Lord Berrybender, the one-legged English aristocrat, is still alive and still hunting and still randy, although his mistress's threat to tear his throat out subdues him somewhat. The old man is traveling south toward Santa Fe with his four daughters and his moronic servants, a bunch of Indians, and the ever-faithful mountain men when the group is joined by a pair of hapless European journalists in a hot-air balloon. What could have been a rather exciting event deflates quickly into the same old tragicomedy that hallmarks these works. The listener will be grateful that Alfred Molina gives his usual dazzling performance and that the pacing is good. Recommended for public libraries where the other volumes have circulated.-Barbara Perkins, formerly with Irving P.L., TX Copyright 2004 Reed Business Information.
Kirkus Reviews
Third in the brutal and amusing saga of the dissolute Lord Berrybender and his lusty brood in the great American West (Sin Killer, 2002, etc.). Readers who have not been put off by McMurtry’s over-the-top (much scalping, butchering, piercing, dismemberment and spur-of-the-moment sex) take on the unsettled American frontier will be happy to follow the Berrybenders, whose numbers stay roughly constant as births in the bush balance deaths by all sorts of brutalities, as they take a big left turn from the undeveloped northern plains to head for purported comforts of Santa Fe. Berrybender, whose taste for big-game hunting seems unaffected by the loss of numerous limbs and digits, has returned his attentions to his erstwhile mistress, the distinguished cellist Venetia "Vicky" Kennet. Lady Tasmin, Berrybender’s beautiful eldest daughter, irritated by the constant disappearances of her free-range frontiersman husband Jim "Sin Killer" Snow, is now focusing her formidable energies on Pomp Charbonneau, diffident son of trapper Toussaint Charbonneau and Sacagawea (yes, that Sacagawea). There’s a liaison, but an unsatisfactory one: Pomp, although he doesn’t disappear like Jim, is nowhere near as ready to, as Tasmin delicately puts it, rut whenever Tasmin is in the mood. Into the mix float a pair of European balloon-equipped journalists on assignment and their factotum, still bleeding from the midnight loss of an ear to the Ear Taker. Numerous Indians lurk in the neighborhood, but their numbers have been suddenly and devastatingly reduced by smallpox. Indeed, the great Sioux warrior known as the Partezon, whose maraudings nearly meant the end of the saga, correctly sees aviation and the plague as theend of the way for his people and heads for the Black Hills to die. Santa Fe lies on the other side of a seemingly endless desert, but the plucky Brits and their wild American assistants walk on. The Berrybenders may be de trop, but the scenery continues to be worth the trip. Agent: Andrew Wylie
From the Publisher
"In this tale of the exploration, and exploitation, of the West, McMurtry is telling us something about our checkered past — and perhaps about our uncertain present."
— People
"From the Missouri Breaks to the Rocky Mountains, and the Canadian border to Mexico, no novelist since Wallace Stegner has written as well about the American West as Larry McMurtry. By Sorrow's River is no exception. It's lively, funny, historically illuminating and, best of all, full of unforgettable individualists."
— The Washington Post Book World
"By Sorrow's River is a brilliant combination of adventure and plainspoken storytelling with a bittersweet love story and a richly imagined long-gone America."
— The Seattle Times
