THEY SHOOT HORSES, DON’T THEY?

By Horace McCoy

Serpents. Tail, Profile Books, London first edition, 1935; this edition, 2010.

I’m not sure how many years ago it was, but one fine day I made the decision to read the classics. I didn’t get very far. Truth be told, I didn’t enjoy many of them. As a writer, I found reasons to prefer today’s structure and general rules. As a reader, with a few exceptions, I was bored.

Last month I came across a very low-cost copy of THEY SHOOT HORSES DON’T THEY, one of the classics I had not yet gotten around to reading. A short paperback, I hoped it would be a quick beach-read – NOT.

The entire story is during Robert Syverten’s sentencing for the murder of Gloria Beatty. Robert shot Gloria on a park bench on the pier after spending five weeks as her partner in a dance marathon. When the police arrested him, they asked him why he shot her. He answered, “she asked me to.” When asked if that was the only reason, he thought about the time his uncle shot a horse with a broken leg and answered, “They shoot horses, don’t they?”

I didn’t enjoy this book for the same reason Robert shot Gloria. She was a miserable human being. Severely depressed and in dire need of help, which she would not get in the early 1930s during the Great Depression. And, Robert was as boring as she was miserable.

The story is told in Robert’s POV and his voice is clear but without emotion. He drones on and on about the details of their time together. I wanted to shake him and wake him up. I wanted to slap her. Or at least walk away from time to time but you couldn’t avoid these two, they danced together one-hour and fifty minutes of every hour, 24x7, for over five weeks! And McCoy dragged us through every intolerable minute. The only emotion in the novel was the chapter breaks which proclaimed the Judge’s statements throughout the sentencing, beginning with The prisoner will stand… and ending with …may God have mercy on your soul… That was a clever and I dare say inventive use of chapter breaks. 

Gloria was miserable, hopeless, depressed. She had attempted suicide, lost her parents, couldn’t get an acting job, destitute. She convinced Robert, a recent acquaintance, to enter the contest with her. At least they’d have food and a roof over their heads. Robert was also destitute but still hopeful of starting a career in films. When the contest abruptly ends, Robert and Gloria walk outside to see the sun for the first time in weeks.

She tells him she has nowhere to go and would be better of dead. He agrees with her. She hands him a pistol and asks for his help. Robert obliges. And we are told this at the very beginning of the story.

I rated this a C. It provided me some painful insight on life during the Great Depression. I loved the format of the interspersed Judges statements. I want to feel for Robert and Gloria but I can't. Other reviews describe it as "existential with deeply layered meaning, providing wonderful symbolism, and complex characters." But I disagree, it may be existential but not deep. Everything, even the characters, are transparent and raw yet unfazed. I’d like to see the rewrite with a little more drama, a lot more emotion, and a sub-plot or two that matter.

I guess I'm not cut out for the classics.