Series
Publication
Owl Books (2000), 456 p.
Original publication date
1974
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Description
Fiction. Literature. Historical Fiction. HTML: The Milagro Beanfield War is the first book in John Nichols's New Mexico Trilogy ("Gentle, funny, transcendent." �??The New York Times Book Review) Joe Mondragon, a feisty hustler with a talent for trouble, slammed his battered pickup to a stop, tugged on his gumboots, and marched into the arid patch of ground. Carefully (and also illegally), he tapped into the main irrigation channel. And so began-though few knew it at the time-the Milagro beanfield war. But like everything else in the dirt-poor town of Milagro, it would be a patchwork war, fought more by tactical retreats than by battlefield victories. Gradually, the small farmers and sheepmen begin to rally to Joe's beanfield as the symbol of their lost rights and their lost lands. And downstate in the capital, the Anglo water barons and power brokers huddle in urgent conference, intent on destroying that symbol before it destroys their multimillion-dollar land-development schemes. The tale of Milagro's rising is wildly comic and lovingly tender, a vivid portrayal of a town that, half-stumbling and partly prodded, gropes its way toward its own stubborn salvation.… (more)
User reviews
LibraryThing member AbigailAdams26
Towards the close of The Milagro Beanfield War, the one-armed Onofre Martinez, drunkenly reflecting upon the flawed sort of angels that must protect the small town of Milagro, observes: "This place just reeks of crippled glory.” There could be no better epithet for this brilliant novel.
A
Whether writing of the seemingly immortal old man, Amarante Cordova; of the comic-tragic Seferino Pacheco, the cultured illiterate forever chasing after his runaway pig; or of Joe Mondragon, the "pint-sized" troublemaker whose decision to illegally irrigate his beanfield would lead to such trouble; Nichols has a keen eye for the absurd, and a profound understanding of the complicated negotiations that occur between people and cultures.
As he weaves his collection of tales together, Nichols returns again and again to some of the same themes. Among which are: the long-term effects of colonialism; the inequitable distribution of resources and resultant human misery; the difficulties of communicating, whether across racial, cultural, and gender lines - or at all; and the ways in which our better human impulses are so frequently derailed by weakness, of intellect or emotion.
I will confess that I have a long history with The Milagro Beanfield War, which I first read at the age of twelve, and which remains, to this day, one of the few books that has ever made me laugh out loud. As someone who grew up surrounded by left-wing activists of one stripe or another; people who were prone to speaking, as Nichols himself does in the Epilogue to the Anniversary Edition, of "THE movement;" I do not think that Nichols overreaches in an effort to create "quirky" characters. The "truth" of some of his depictions was startling, even to my twelve-year-old self, and I felt as if I knew some of these people, fictional or no.
Their cruelty, to each other and to the world around them, occasionally horrified me; just as their willful or unconscious inability to expand their narrow view of themselves, and of others, sometimes infuriated me. This holds true both for the "villains" and "heroes," none of whom are, as another reviewer here has pointed out, terribly likable. But intermixed with the many moments of human pettiness are instances of generosity and compassion. These fallible humans may not be transformed by the end, but they have had moments of transcendence.
A
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sprawling work, full of humor and pathos, and peopled with an unforgettable set of characters, whose human weaknesses and error are only occasionally punctuated by moments of greatness, it reads almost like a folk-epic, piecemeal in its construction, and yet somehow organically whole in its totality. Composed of endless vignettes, each of which offers a small gem of a short story, it is also an entirely coherent and satisfactory whole.Whether writing of the seemingly immortal old man, Amarante Cordova; of the comic-tragic Seferino Pacheco, the cultured illiterate forever chasing after his runaway pig; or of Joe Mondragon, the "pint-sized" troublemaker whose decision to illegally irrigate his beanfield would lead to such trouble; Nichols has a keen eye for the absurd, and a profound understanding of the complicated negotiations that occur between people and cultures.
As he weaves his collection of tales together, Nichols returns again and again to some of the same themes. Among which are: the long-term effects of colonialism; the inequitable distribution of resources and resultant human misery; the difficulties of communicating, whether across racial, cultural, and gender lines - or at all; and the ways in which our better human impulses are so frequently derailed by weakness, of intellect or emotion.
I will confess that I have a long history with The Milagro Beanfield War, which I first read at the age of twelve, and which remains, to this day, one of the few books that has ever made me laugh out loud. As someone who grew up surrounded by left-wing activists of one stripe or another; people who were prone to speaking, as Nichols himself does in the Epilogue to the Anniversary Edition, of "THE movement;" I do not think that Nichols overreaches in an effort to create "quirky" characters. The "truth" of some of his depictions was startling, even to my twelve-year-old self, and I felt as if I knew some of these people, fictional or no.
Their cruelty, to each other and to the world around them, occasionally horrified me; just as their willful or unconscious inability to expand their narrow view of themselves, and of others, sometimes infuriated me. This holds true both for the "villains" and "heroes," none of whom are, as another reviewer here has pointed out, terribly likable. But intermixed with the many moments of human pettiness are instances of generosity and compassion. These fallible humans may not be transformed by the end, but they have had moments of transcendence.
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LibraryThing member tikitu-reviews
Both better and worse than the film, but on balance the worse wins out.
It's better in tone: the film is a feel-good family drama/comedy with a happy ending, the book has more dirt and alcoholism and stupidity. The Coyote Angel of the novel deserves the name ("a half-toothless, one-eyed bum sort of
The same dusty, worn, and shabby sensibility underpins the story as well. Of course there is space for much more story in a novel of 630 pages than a movie of 117 minutes, and many of the extra glimpses of Milagro that we get have a nasty edge to them. The backstory on the characters that made it into the movie gives them more depth as well, although many of the characters feel more like multi-stereotypes than real well-rounded individuals: several flat dimensions glued awkwardly together to give a semblance of depth, as in "Horsethief Shorty's a real tough wiseguy, I bet you didn't expect him to have a purely platonic and tender love affair, now, did you?".
(In one case, the film's character even manages to completely outshine the book's. Christopher Walkin's Agent Kyril Montana is a different, though related, character to the one Nichols wrote, and the original couldn't drive out the newcomer in my mind.)
Where the film shines is in the sheer beauty of so many of the shots (the Coyote Angel, despite his relative good health; the senile brigade on the back of the truck; Amarante on the bulldozer), and where the book fails is in the writing. The following example took me less than ten minutes to find by random page-flicking:
Bernabé cleared his throat once while ambling nochalantly onto the front porch. There his eyes met his own pickup, and he was staring at this vehicle feeling uncomfortable, though unable to ascertain the reason for his disquiet, when Bruno Martinez sauntered out the front door and articulated the reason for Bernabé's discomfort[.]
Wordy, clumsy, and packed with irrelevant detail; it's not by any means all this bad (or I wouldn't have made it through) but this is fairly representative.
My advice, though it pains me to give it: watch the movie with the kids and skip the book.
It's better in tone: the film is a feel-good family drama/comedy with a happy ending, the book has more dirt and alcoholism and stupidity. The Coyote Angel of the novel deserves the name ("a half-toothless, one-eyed bum sort of
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coyote dressed in tattered blue jeans and sandals, and sporting a pair of drab motheaten wings [...] [T]he angel, startled by Amarante's voice, froze stiff with its ears lying back flat; and then, realizing there was no immediate danger, it turned [...]"), while the film's version is just tricksy.The same dusty, worn, and shabby sensibility underpins the story as well. Of course there is space for much more story in a novel of 630 pages than a movie of 117 minutes, and many of the extra glimpses of Milagro that we get have a nasty edge to them. The backstory on the characters that made it into the movie gives them more depth as well, although many of the characters feel more like multi-stereotypes than real well-rounded individuals: several flat dimensions glued awkwardly together to give a semblance of depth, as in "Horsethief Shorty's a real tough wiseguy, I bet you didn't expect him to have a purely platonic and tender love affair, now, did you?".
(In one case, the film's character even manages to completely outshine the book's. Christopher Walkin's Agent Kyril Montana is a different, though related, character to the one Nichols wrote, and the original couldn't drive out the newcomer in my mind.)
Where the film shines is in the sheer beauty of so many of the shots (the Coyote Angel, despite his relative good health; the senile brigade on the back of the truck; Amarante on the bulldozer), and where the book fails is in the writing. The following example took me less than ten minutes to find by random page-flicking:
Bernabé cleared his throat once while ambling nochalantly onto the front porch. There his eyes met his own pickup, and he was staring at this vehicle feeling uncomfortable, though unable to ascertain the reason for his disquiet, when Bruno Martinez sauntered out the front door and articulated the reason for Bernabé's discomfort[.]
Wordy, clumsy, and packed with irrelevant detail; it's not by any means all this bad (or I wouldn't have made it through) but this is fairly representative.
My advice, though it pains me to give it: watch the movie with the kids and skip the book.
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LibraryThing member actonbell
The Milagro Beanfield War, by John Nichols, is an engaging and fun read. The eccentric characters are remarkably well-drawn and come to life in this first installment of Nichols' New Mexico Trilogy. It really made me curious about his other work, especially since the author admits that he's rather
The author's afterward makes it obvious that he's an intriguing character himself! Nichols can be a bit long-winded in parts, while he's having too much fun with his descriptions and metaphors, but that's part of the comedy of the book. At times, he probably felt the wind rushing by the words as he wrote, as strong as the wind of Pacheco's pig. Now, that's an eccentric character: Pancheco, the old man who is so lonely that his 300 pound sow just happens to keep getting loose so that he has to run after it, perchance to have a conversation with whomever the pig is terrorizing at the moment. This is funny stuff.
But then, it also deals with topics that are not funny at all. For instance, this story takes place in the early 1970's, yet these people are still speaking most Spanish, living in shocking poverty, and are being abused by the more affluent populations around them. At the center of this novel is a man named Joe (or Jose) Mondragon, who has made the random decision to irrigate his father's old beanfield, even though he no longer has irrigation rights for this little (less than one acre) piece of land. This one act is more symbolic and much more threatening than Joe ever imagined. His people were once subsistance farmers with a rich cultural heritage, but slowly lost water rights to the bigger interests around them and were unable to fight back out of ignorance; the older generations were illiterate and certainly had no awareness of politics. Meanwhile, this little town is losing many of its young men forever in Vietnam, a most cruel irony.
Milagro is a fictional town, but Nichols based this novel very much on what was happening at the time around Taos, New Mexico. The novel was probably inspired by anger, but it doesn't sound belligerant. And the characters may seem ridiculous at times, but they are treated lovingly. Even though I think Joe Mondragon is a bit of a jerk, I also think he's a good guy, underneath that. Charley Bloom, Mondragon's scared and ambivalent lawyer, has lots of warts and issues, but I liked him, anyway. (He should get counseling, though.) And I'm afraid that the author himself might have been the model for Bloom. (I hope he feels better.)
There was so much I had in my mind to say about this book, but it would be too much. Suffice it to say, this is a good, different, and intriguing read. Thumbs up!
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sick of Milagro and regrets being known for this particular book, not that he's looking a gift horse in the mouth, or anything.The author's afterward makes it obvious that he's an intriguing character himself! Nichols can be a bit long-winded in parts, while he's having too much fun with his descriptions and metaphors, but that's part of the comedy of the book. At times, he probably felt the wind rushing by the words as he wrote, as strong as the wind of Pacheco's pig. Now, that's an eccentric character: Pancheco, the old man who is so lonely that his 300 pound sow just happens to keep getting loose so that he has to run after it, perchance to have a conversation with whomever the pig is terrorizing at the moment. This is funny stuff.
But then, it also deals with topics that are not funny at all. For instance, this story takes place in the early 1970's, yet these people are still speaking most Spanish, living in shocking poverty, and are being abused by the more affluent populations around them. At the center of this novel is a man named Joe (or Jose) Mondragon, who has made the random decision to irrigate his father's old beanfield, even though he no longer has irrigation rights for this little (less than one acre) piece of land. This one act is more symbolic and much more threatening than Joe ever imagined. His people were once subsistance farmers with a rich cultural heritage, but slowly lost water rights to the bigger interests around them and were unable to fight back out of ignorance; the older generations were illiterate and certainly had no awareness of politics. Meanwhile, this little town is losing many of its young men forever in Vietnam, a most cruel irony.
Milagro is a fictional town, but Nichols based this novel very much on what was happening at the time around Taos, New Mexico. The novel was probably inspired by anger, but it doesn't sound belligerant. And the characters may seem ridiculous at times, but they are treated lovingly. Even though I think Joe Mondragon is a bit of a jerk, I also think he's a good guy, underneath that. Charley Bloom, Mondragon's scared and ambivalent lawyer, has lots of warts and issues, but I liked him, anyway. (He should get counseling, though.) And I'm afraid that the author himself might have been the model for Bloom. (I hope he feels better.)
There was so much I had in my mind to say about this book, but it would be too much. Suffice it to say, this is a good, different, and intriguing read. Thumbs up!
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LibraryThing member untraveller
Not a horrible book, but not very good either. Nichols was trying way too hard to be cute/clever when he wrote and, mostly, does not pull it off. The book reminds me of two others that were written about the same time: The Monkeywrench Gang and A Confederacy of Dunces. Both of the latter books were
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much funnier, gave a better cultural perspective of what was happening in their little corners of the world, and were infinitely more fun and easier to read. I spent this past summer working in the same area that Nichols talks about (northern New Mexico), but I don't feel that The book was particularly insightful regarding the culture, even though he prattles on for some 450 pages. I'll not be finishing the trilogy.... Show Less
LibraryThing member co_coyote
After reading Killing for Coal last month about how the coal barons built a Western economy on the backs of poor miners, I needed an antidote. The Milagro Beanfield War, sitting on my bedside shelf for well over 20 years now, was just the thing. This funny, compassionate novel was just as good this
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time, and maybe better because I understand it more after 20 years of additional experience in the world, as it was the first time I read it. Certainly one of the classics, and on my personal Top Ten of All Time list. Show Less
LibraryThing member anniemktx
I remember reading this ah my friend's house in Albuquerque, back in the late 70's. I literally rolled on the floor laughing, and don't remember doing that ever since. Such a New Mexico book - one of a kind. One I have reread, never disappointed. Great story, unforgettable characters, a book with
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heart and soul. Show Less
LibraryThing member eduscapes
This novel is the first episode of Nichols' 'New Mexico Trilogy.' Reminiscent of the power and humor of Steinbeck's Cannery Row, this is a vivid, human portrayal of a downtrodden Hispanic - - one man who takes a stand for his individual rights and a democratic chance at improving life. The results
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are hilarious and unforgettable. (lj) Show Less
LibraryThing member Audacity88
Reminiscent of a Russian-style epic - but set in New Mexico. Nichols has an undeniable sense for the character of the Southwest. But a book about everyday existence must allow that existence to transcend mundaneness, and Nichols too often instead uses characters as punching bags for his humor -
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with a few exceptions, whose strength makes their absence in the rest of the book felt all the more strongly. Show Less
LibraryThing member edwin.gleaves
A classic, pure and simple.
LibraryThing member BooksForDinner
After Marquez's Macondo, Milagro might be my favorite town-as-character in any book I've ever read.
LibraryThing member BookConcierge
In a New Mexico valley the power is held by one man and his company. Over the years Ladd Devine’s family has manipulated the indigenous peasant farmers, securing the majority of water rights for his proposed golf course / spa retreat while leaving the original residents with arid land, unsuitable
I've had this book on my TBR "radar" for a bajillion years and I don't know why I waited so long to read it. I really liked it a lot! The quirky characters, the message, the humor, the pathos, and the landscape all made this an especially moving book for me. I could not help but think of my grandparents - we always referred to their property as a "dirt farm" - dirt being their most reliable crop. They were on their ranch / farm well into their 80s ... even after my grandfather had two strokes. He just got up and kept caring for the animals, tending the orchards, repairing the truck, doing whatever it took to keep on living.
So thank you, PBT Trim the TBR for finally giving me the "push" I needed to get to this gem of a novel. I can hardly wait to read it again!
If I have any complaint about the book, it’s about this edition’s AFTERWARD, where the author begins with: Actually, I’ve sort of had it with THE MILAGRO BEANFIELD WAR. and goes on to explain how distressed he is that this is the only book people seem to remember him for rather all his other works, some of which he believes are superior. But my disappointment with his little tantrum doesn’t diminish my enjoyment of the book itself.
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for farming, or even grazing. So he’s been able to buy out the poor farmers securing more and more land and leaving less water for those that remain. Until one day Joe Mondragon decides to cut a break in the wall and divert water onto his late father’s field, so he can plant some beans. I've had this book on my TBR "radar" for a bajillion years and I don't know why I waited so long to read it. I really liked it a lot! The quirky characters, the message, the humor, the pathos, and the landscape all made this an especially moving book for me. I could not help but think of my grandparents - we always referred to their property as a "dirt farm" - dirt being their most reliable crop. They were on their ranch / farm well into their 80s ... even after my grandfather had two strokes. He just got up and kept caring for the animals, tending the orchards, repairing the truck, doing whatever it took to keep on living.
So thank you, PBT Trim the TBR for finally giving me the "push" I needed to get to this gem of a novel. I can hardly wait to read it again!
If I have any complaint about the book, it’s about this edition’s AFTERWARD, where the author begins with: Actually, I’ve sort of had it with THE MILAGRO BEANFIELD WAR. and goes on to explain how distressed he is that this is the only book people seem to remember him for rather all his other works, some of which he believes are superior. But my disappointment with his little tantrum doesn’t diminish my enjoyment of the book itself.
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LibraryThing member LGCullens
I remember this book more than I do many others, so it must have left an impression
Language
Original language
English
ISBN
9780805063745
Physical description
456 p.; 5.59 inches
Pages
456