like 'snow falling on cedars' plainsong has received great reviews... too great. the sparse prose and sparser punctuation is similar to cormac mccarthy, giving us two modern western authors who apparently believe the silence of big empty spaces is best rendered without quotation marks. at the end of the day plainsongs foreboding juxtaposition of stories is ultimately only Plainly interesting, neither cathartic, nor uplifting, nor artful enough to qualify for greatness sans plot. but now we know: what would 'my antonia' be like set in 1996? for the angst of the modern small town west mcmurtry's 'duane's depressed' goes a lot deeper, and is a lot more fun, too.