The Outlander is one of the most perfectly titled books I've ever read. Every character, every location, even every major event in the plot is somehow isolated from the real world. Gil Adamson's wonderful prose carries with it a sense of otherness, making this debut novel a fine read.
We don't learn the actual name of the protagonist, Mary Boulton, until over 100 pages into the book. Until then, and mostly thereafter, she is referred to as "the widow," which not only gives her a slightly off-center identity, but describes her situation as well. Mary wants to be anonymous, and with good reason: she killed her worthless husband and is pursued by his revenge-seeking twin brothers. The details of her past unfold slowly as Mary tries to disappear into the wilderness of Idaho and Montana, dragging along her memories of a loveless childhood, a brutally unhappy marriage, and a dead child of her own. Her fragile mental state teeters on a razor's edge between reality and hallucination throughout her journey and eventual liberation.
The other characters in the book are "outlanders" too. The evil twins--gawked at by the superstitious citizens of the time--are relentless in their pursuit, driven by their need to avenge their brother's death to gain the approval of their aloof and demanding father. The various people who help Mary along the way, Mrs. Cawthra-Elliot (a widow herself), the Crow Indian Henry (actually born in Baltimore) and his white wife Helen who helps her, the Reverend Bonnycastle and the dwarf saloon keeper who befriend her in an isolated mining camp, all are apart from society in some way. The most isolated of all is William Moreland, the Ridgerunner, who has been living in the mountains as a hermit for so long he doesn't know what year it is. He becomes Mary's lover and eventual salvation.
Gil Adamson's talents as a poet translate well into long prose. Her scene-setting descriptions in particular have cadence and structure that make them lyrical but never cloying:
"In the early morning, amid the trembling of mountain aspen, three horsemen came. They crested a rise one by one, the horses blowing, for they were heavily packed, and their riders were large."
When we see it like this--through Mary Bouton's haunted eyes--we become outlanders, too. The experience is very rewarding.
Dave Donelson, author of Heart of Diamonds: A Novel of Scandal, Love and Death in the Congo