A woman facing down the Wild West with nothing but a trunk full of monster is a premise like no other. The pacing lags at times and LaValle cuts away from the violence too soon to have proper satisfaction, at least to this sick soul. However, there is many a wonderful turn of phrase to be found (short buildings that 'hardly trouble the horizon' and wind that 'sculpts' the town residents) and the overall length remains very reasonable. It calls out the many historical wrongs of the era but does not get mired down by them. The women themselves make up for any other faults by managing to be intensely admirable not  or lack of flaws but for their manner of facing them.

Also the central woman is (mostly) unapologetically a big, tall, strong woman. Love it.