Object, Matrimony — Key Ideas to Explore

A Cowboy's Unreliable Take on Matrimony

Bud Preston frames his story as an "object-lesson" learned while working for Shooting-star Wilson. His opening generalization about women quickly gives way to a specific anecdote, but his perspective remains that of a bachelor cowboy who views marriage as a form of roping trouble. When the bride arrives, Bud and his fellow hand Ellis are more observers than participants, stepping in only to catch her when she faints and later to drive her back to town.

The narrator's voice is the story's strongest element. Bower renders Bud's speech with consistent dialect: "yuh" for "you," "blowed" for "blew," "plumb" for "completely." This creates an authentic-sounding cowboy persona, but readers should note that Bud's opinions are not necessarily the author's. His casual misogyny and his amusement at the couple's fight reflect his character, not a thematic statement. The excerpts do not reveal whether Bud learns anything from the episode, leaving his final stance ambiguous.

The Hall of Mirth as a Character

The house dominates the story more than any human character. Built with Shooting-star's inherited ten thousand dollars, it is described as a "woozy proposition" with painted floors, colored chairs, and books bound in red, blue, and green to match. Bud and Ellis find it so uncomfortable that they sneak back to the old bunk-house for relief. The bride's reaction—fainting, crying, and begging to leave—confirms that the house is genuinely off-putting, not just a cowboy's exaggeration.

Bower uses the house to generate both comedy and conflict. The bride's horror at the "great, ungodly picture uh George Washington" and the gaudy walls is played for laughs, but it also drives the plot: her refusal to stay leads to a quick divorce. The catalog subject "Western stories" might lead readers to expect open plains, but the excerpts confine the action almost entirely indoors, making the house a microcosm of frontier eccentricity.

Marriage as a Transaction Gone Wrong

The marriage in "Object, Matrimony" is treated as a practical arrangement that fails almost immediately. Shooting-star brings his bride home without warning her about the house, and she reacts with shock and fear. The ensuing argument—"passing remarks back and forth"—escalates until Bud and Ellis drive her back to Bent Willow. The story ends with the bride suing for divorce after a year's residence, having borrowed fifty dollars from the cowboys.

Notably, the bride is never named in the excerpts; she is referred to only as "Mrs. Wilson" or "she." This lack of individual identity underscores her role as a plot device rather than a fully developed character. The catalog subject "Short stories" fits, but the story's brevity means character development is minimal. Readers should not expect a nuanced exploration of marriage; instead, the story offers a cynical, humorous take on a mismatch between a man's pride in his bizarre creation and a woman's reasonable desire for a normal home.

Readers approaching "Object, Matrimony" should set aside expectations of a traditional Western. There are no cattle drives, shootouts, or majestic landscapes. Instead, Bower delivers a tight, dialogue-driven comedy of domestic absurdity, filtered through a cowboy's wry narration. Pay attention to how the house's description shapes every character's actions, and note that Bud's voice—full of folksy exaggeration—may not be entirely reliable. The story is best enjoyed as a snapshot of frontier humor, where the biggest conflict is between a man's ten-thousand-dollar folly and a woman's common sense.

Some stories stay with you like old friends. I recall Object, Matrimony, and how that gaudy house couldn't hold a heart, much like the machinery in The Driver — Inside the Classic can't replace human grit. Both whisper of loneliness wearing borrowed finery, a kinship I've pondered often between the shelves.