It isn't entirely Larry McMurtry's fault that his new novel [Cadillac Jack] gives off a strong sense of déjà vu—there has been a surfeit of C&W/good ol' boy themes in fiction and movies lately. The smirking shade of John Travolta's urban cowboy seems to hover over most of Cadillac Jack's mild adventures, though Travolta would be far too young to play in the film version. Even Willie Nelson—and this gets closer to the area of McMurtry's culpability—would be far too young. For Cadillac Jack is carrying around in his peach velour interior a case of apathy, depression and world-weariness that would seem to need at least 150 years of bitter and dispiriting living to engender.

In his fine novels of the Southwest, McMurtry appeared to invest great stores of emotional sympathy in his characters. They were often not particularly strong or admirable people...