(Or Indian, for that matter.) And if he had any idea how much his pragmatic ruthlessness had in common with his antagonists', he might rethink his conviction that he is the last of his breed. His 'savage' inner self is not righteous. Joe is highly competent-most of the time-but his war is not holy. And every single person has to figure out how to accept that they are not any more special or unique than any other person. Especially when being the last of a breed allows someone carte blanche to behave however they wish, all ties to humanity irrelevant because they are somehow apart from everyone around them.Įvery single person is special. Set during the Cold War era, Last of the Breed is the story of a US Air Force pilot who is captured by Soviet agents and imprisoned in Siberia.

I know this type of book is intended to feed a fantasy of self-reliance and moral superiority, but I just don't have a lot of patience for anyone who truly believes that they are the last of a breed. He, and he alone, is the only one capable of waging so personal a war against his oppressors. He, and he alone, is the only remaining Indian with a crude and primitive code of honor. Joe, you see, is a special snowflake of a Red Indian. I understand L'Amour was writing after centuries of negative, and inaccurate, propaganda from the US government about native peoples, but even when I tried to make allowances for that, the constant harping on Joe's true self being 'savage' and 'uncivilized' was extremely tiresome. Over and over again, we're told, 'No one could survive out there!' and 'Alekhin would catch the American and kill him!' and 'Natalya stared into the distance, wondering if he was still alive,' and 'The past few months had made Joe lean and strong,' and worst of all, 'Joe was reverting to a savage Indian.'

As the book went on, everything got more and more repetitive: the survival techniques, the chase, and especially the writing.

I even enjoyed the cat and mouse chase, at least at the beginning. Instead of knowing how a task is accomplished, we know only that it has been done. I liked the survival bits of this, though L'Amour is often frustratingly vague about how much time has passed between one scene and the next.

Last of the Breed by Louis L'Amour