Simon the Fiddler: A Novel

By Paulette Jiles

The critically acclaimed, bestselling author of News of the World and Enemy Women returns to Texas in this atmospheric story, set at the end of the Civil War, about an itinerant fiddle player, a ragtag band of musicians with whom he travels trying to make a living, and the charming young Irish lass who steals his heart.

In March 1865, the long and bitter War between the States is winding down. Till now, twenty-three-year-old Simon Boudlin has evaded military duty thanks to his slight stature, youthful appearance, and utter lack of compunction about bending the truth. But following a barroom brawl in Victoria, Texas, Simon finds himself conscripted, however belatedly, into the Confederate Army. Luckily his talent with a fiddle gets him a comparatively easy position in a regimental band.

Weeks later, on the eve of the Confederate surrender, Simon and his bandmates are called to play for officers and their families from both sides of the conflict. There the quick-thinking, audacious fiddler can’t help but notice the lovely Doris Mary Dillon, an indentured girl from Ireland, who is governess to a Union colonel’s daughter.

After the surrender, Simon and Doris go their separate ways. He will travel around Texas seeking fame and fortune as a musician. She must accompany the colonel’s family to finish her three years of service. But Simon cannot forget the fair Irish maiden, and vows that someday he will find her again.

Incandescent in its beauty, told in Paulette Jiles’s trademark spare yet lilting style, Simon the Fiddler is a captivating, bittersweet tale of the chances a devoted man will take, and the lengths he will go to fulfill his heart’s yearning.

"Jiles’ sparse but lyrical writing is a joy to read. . . . Lose yourself in this entertaining tale.” — Associated Press

• Language: English
• Publisher: HarperCollins
• Release date: Apr 14, 2020
• ISBN: 9780062966766

Paulette Jiles

Paulette Jiles is a novelist, poet, and memoirist. She is the author of Cousins, a memoir, and the novels Enemy Women, Stormy Weather, The Color of Lightning, Lighthouse Island, Simon the Fiddler, and News of the World, which was a finalist for the 2016 National Book Award. She lives on a ranch near San Antonio, Texas.

Book preview

Chapter One

SIMON THE FIDDLER HAD managed to evade the Confederate conscription men because he looked much younger than he was and he did everything he could to further that impression. His hair was reddish brown and curly; he was short and spare. He always shaved close so that he had no beard shadow. He could pass for fifteen years of age if not in direct sunlight. And often people protected him because they liked his music and did not care to see him dragged off for a soldier.

In an unseasonably hot October he had been engaged to play at a barbecue near Marshall in East Texas, in plantation country. Horses were tied at random in the shade of the tall loblolly pines, among the fires and the drifting layers of smoke. Black servants moved with pitchers of iced drinks and men and women sat with plates in their hands to listen to Simon play Jock of Hazeldean; light and poignant strains so different from the war news, the tattered letters arriving from the ruins of Atlanta with accounts of its burning and its dead.

Simon stood on a flatbed wagon and poured the notes out into the overheated air, unmoving, straight-backed, his hat cocked forward over his face. He had a high-boned face, bright hair, and light eyes and his music was enchanting.

A banjo player sat at the edge of the wagon. He was an old man who tipped his head carefully as if there were water in it and it might spill over. He was trying to hear where it was that Simon was going with the melody and to follow if he could. Simon drew out the last note with a strong vibrato and bowed to the applause, and when he raised his head he searched out the edges of the crowd like a hunted man.

After a moment he laid his bow tip on the old man’s shoulder to get his attention and smiled. How are you doing? he said in a loud voice. Could be you want a cold drink. They have ice, I saw it in a pitcher.

All right. The old man nodded. Yessir, doing fine, but I think they done come. The old man kept on nodding. He was cotton-headed and partially blind.

Who done come?

The conscription people.

Simon was still and silent for a heartbeat, two heartbeats. Then he said, Well Goddamn them.

He said this in a low voice because there were ladies present. He would have liked to fall backward into a water tank and sink, clothes and all, but it looked like he was going to be on the run again, abandoning this well-paid job and the lovely girl wearing a blue bonnet sitting in the front row with a rapt, appreciative face. He shoved his fiddle into the case, quickly snapped the bow into its groove, and slammed the case shut. He laid his hand on the old banjo player’s shoulder.

I’m gone, he said. Take the money.

No, sir, that ain’t fair. The old man’s banjo was crudely made and had no resonator, but he had done his best with it. He turned his head in Simon’s general direction. That ain’t fair to you.

Yes, it is. Simon grabbed his fiddle case by the handle and jumped off the flatbed. I’m about done with those people. If I had a weapon I’d be loading it.

Son, listen, you don’t want to do that.

Now the plantation owner came hurrying through the crowd, past elderly men, past women sitting carefully with their hoop skirts arranged over armless chairs. He took Simon by the arm.

Come now, he said. Come with me right now.

Several of the ladies half-stood. They wanted to know what was the matter. These laments so rudely interrupted and the child had not even eaten yet. Simon pressed through the crowd saying excuse me, excuse me and took off at a running walk behind the man.

Conscription men. I didn’t invite them. The man was dressed as the planters always dressed at these barbecues, in a cutaway and trousers with foot straps and a beaver hat big as a church bell. They were not given an invitation. They are ruffians, these people. Simon marched at his heels in a jerky, furious pace.

Yes, but I’m not of age for a soldier, Simon said.

It was a bald-faced lie. They were going at long strides away from the plantation grounds and toward a sawmill operation back in the pines. Past stumps, past Virginia creeper blazing green in the sun.

The hell you are not, the man said. He strode on down a red-dirt path and far above rain crows bent down to watch all they did and then spoke to one another with noises like clocks. You’re lying like a dog trottin’. And then, I can tell by the backs of yo hains.

Simon stormed along behind the planter, vines slapping at his face. You know what, I’m about done running. Next they’re going to take that old man with the banjo. Jesus!

Hush, the planter said. We are losing this war hand over fist. It’s about done. Just keep your britches on.

Simon didn’t hear him, partly because he was behind and partly because he was tangled in his own outrage. If you had a weapon, I would borrow it from you.

Here we are.

It was an icehouse, dug into the red East Texas dirt and roofed by a plank shed. Down in the pit were blocks of ice under deep layers of sawdust. Find yoseff a spot down in there and cover up with that sawdust. He held out an invitational hand.

Simon’s face had taken on a flat, smooth expression, his mouth in a stubborn straight line. Wait. I’d just as soon get into a fight with them as run. He looked back down the path among the pines with a determined glare. If you have a pistol then give me the loan of it.

I will not. The man picked up a bucket. He spoke like people spoke in Savannah or Mobile, coastal Southerners, dropping r’s like loose buttons. We’ve got many a soldier but we are short on fiddlers. I don’t want shooting at random here at my wife’s musical event. Can you shoot anyhow?

No, Simon admitted. Not very well.

There you go. They’d take you one way or the other. They’d put you in the front rank and you’d take a ball in the head first off. Get down there. Your time is running short, here.

Simon held on to the door frame, leaned his trim and limber body over the pit and looked down into the dark gaps between ice blocks. "Wait, wait, God, there’s a corpse down in there!"

I heard you had a quick temper but you just hold on to it for now. The planter stepped forward into the gloom of the low-ceilinged shack to see into the pit. Pugnacious, hotheaded, and what? That wad of clothes? That’s Miss Lucy’s, she’s freezing out the lice.

"There’s hair!"

She’s freezing the lice out of her wig too. She was out administering to the poor. Now cover up. I’m going to get the hatchet and take some ice back for an excuse to come here.

Simon stared at the wadded clothes half-buried in sawdust. It seemed rather intimate to get down among a woman’s unmentionables and her skirt and her wig. He said, Ah, I don’t believe I am acquainted with Miss Lucy.

"No normal man would want to be acquainted with Miss Lucy. Now get your behind down there."

It was a drop of five feet or so. Simon jammed his hat down tight, held the fiddle case under one arm, and jumped. He landed in an explosion of sawdust, got to his feet, and kicked himself a hole in it. He spent a good hour in a gap between the ice blocks, covered over with sawdust and frozen lingerie. He listened intently to the noises from outside: mockingbirds, a mule clearing its long nose in a hoarse snort, a rattling noise in the brush. He held the fiddle case to his chest. That was in October of 1864 and the atmosphere outside was so hot it seemed the air was afire.

In his patched homespun checkered shirt Simon was perishing with cold when they finally came to tell him it was safe to come out. Several young women stood in the doorway and called to him, offered their hands to help him up. They fluttered around him, laughing, dusting off the sawdust with their handkerchiefs. Simon smiled and stood with his arms held straight out to the side, redheaded and engaging and at liberty for the time being. His tension and indignation were all knocked away by the girls and their flying handkerchiefs. The one with the very jaunty blue bonnet took it off and used it to beat the sawdust from his back and he almost said, Sweetheart, you have permission to beat me half to death with that bonnet, but he did not and only turned and took their hands one after another to say goodbye. They said it would be a tale to tell your grandchildren, near freezing to death on a hot day in October, in the middle of the war.

He played throughout Central and East Texas in saloons and pleasure palaces, for weddings and funerals. Simon had a hair-trigger temper and he knew it, and all his life it had been impressed upon him to contain himself because he could end up in jail with his fiddle confiscated or stolen. The last thing he ought to do was get into a brawl with the conscription men. So he lived in the bright strains of mountain music and the reflective, running pools of the Irish light airs that brought peace to his mind and to his audiences; peace soon forgotten, always returned to.

He played for a wedding of twins at a church near Long Point and a funeral in Nacogdoches, he played Song of the Spirits in a very low dive in Saint Augustine, where the piercing wind of a Southern winter storm tore through a broken pane and furloughed men who carried grave, ineradicable wounds listened with still faces. This was all in the East Texas country, near the Louisiana border, where people still had money; money from cotton smuggled through the coastal blockades. Wherever he lifted his fiddle to his shoulder he commanded a good price and he saved every coin carefully, because when the war was over, he was going to buy a piece of land, live on it with a beautiful and accomplished wife, and play increasingly complex pieces of music. Hard cash and children would, somehow, come of their own accord.

It was not so much that he was a good player, because most of the people who crowded the saloons and dance halls couldn’t tell a good fiddle player from Adam’s off ox, but because his repertoire seemed to be without end. He had a bottomless supply of waltzes, jigs, reels, hornpipes, and slow airs. Some of the slow airs could bring men and women to a standstill, their eyes brimming with tears for a remembered love or a certain long-lost valley at twilight or another country without war, taken by emotions of loss and exile for which they had no words. He stood straight and still as he had been taught by the fiddlers on the Ohio. Writhing and bending when playing fiddle was distracting, it was undignified. With his hat low over his eyes and his bow flashing in lantern light he brought up melodies clean and clear from some inexhaustible source. He tried to stay out of fights, smiled and accepted compliments, collected his pay in silver pesos, and slipped through the hands of the conscription men with music trailing behind him, harmless and elven and utterly unmilitary.

But they finally got him in March of 1865 in the town of Victoria at J. A. Fenning’s Public House on Brazos Street. Victoria was near the Gulf of Mexico, a body of water that Simon had always longed to see; the horizonless ocean itself. A drunk in a pair of striped pants kept insisting he be allowed to play Simon’s fiddle. He was drunk enough to come up on the stage crying out that he could play as well as anybody and Simon held both bow and fiddle behind himself and said, Back off, back off, listen to me, back off, and his eyes were intent on the man, in the darkness beneath his hat brim. But the drunk would not back off even with the customers shouting at him.

At last Simon laid his bow and fiddle on top of the piano, turned back to the man, and shoved him, hard. "I told you twice, Goddammit, no." By this time several of the drunk’s friends were grappling with him to get him off the tiny stage and then they began to argue among themselves as to the best method of removing him. The arguing men then started fighting with one another. The bar owner pulled out a shotgun and laid it on the bar. More shouting. The drunk, with reaching clawlike hands, surged with slow menace toward the fiddle.

Simon elbowed a man out of his way, snatched up a spindly chair that was meant for the pianist, who had not showed up, and, his patience gone, braced his feet wide and smashed it down on the man’s head with all his strength.

The noise and the shouting caused two conscription men to come running in off the street to see what was up. Simon had a look of sheer wrath on his face and a broken piece of the chair in his hand. Many of the men in the saloon were of conscription age and they cleared out of the bar from every exit, but Simon was delayed by shutting his fiddle up in the case and they got him. So that was the end of his freedom for the next while.

The two conscription men lifted him right off the stage. He was wise enough not to fight with them. Wisdom comes to us at odd times and this was one of them. They let him collect his money, his coat, his fiddle case with the rosin and tuning fork and the paper package of extra strings, and his clothes in his carpetbag with razor, soap, his other pair of socks. He grabbed his hat, which was a good fur-felt hat with a three-inch brim that had lasted him since he left Paducah, Kentucky. They said they wanted him for a regimental band, they didn’t care how old he was. He could have been a titty-sucking baby in his mother’s arms but if he could play music then they had just the right place for him.

At the encampment outside of town on the Guadalupe River he gave a false name, Simon Walters. This was so that he would be at the end of any list or muster roll and would therefore have time to think of what to do if some group he was in was called up for some task, such as fighting or kitchen duty. He gave his place of birth as Paducah, Kentucky, lied about his age, had no pass to present, and then put on the worn, patched, second-hand Confederate uniform they handed to him. The coat was a homespun butternut shell jacket with lighter patches where some insignia had been cut off and the buttons were from a Union uniform. They were brass and had the Federal eagle and the shield on them. The sort of thing that gives one pause. He wore his checkered shirt under the jacket and vest as standards had fallen amazingly here at the end of the war. He managed to trade his carpetbag for a rucksack. They gave him a blanket. He found a pair of suspenders to keep the pants up. The pants sagged around his legs like stiff woolen pipe, but the pockets were enormous and he could carry all sorts of stuff in them.

He ended up with Giddings’s regiment under Captain Robinson down on the Rio Grande. They were bivouacked inland, so Simon still had yet to see the Gulf of Mexico. They were given very little to eat. He marched into camp along with fifteen other conscripts and a wagon of supplies, their mules so thin that the caracara eagles had followed them all the way down.

The Yankees held the port at the mouth of the Rio Grande. Where the great river flowed into the Gulf of Mexico a sandy island had formed called Brazos de Santiago, and the Yankees languished there on that island among the docks and warehouses, along with two actual houses occupied by officers and their wives. All buildings leaned downwind in the blown sand, the unending roar of the surf. The Confederates under Giddings were encamped five miles west, up the river, Simon among them. Nobody was moving. Nobody wanted to fight. The war was ending. There was no reason to get killed.

He was assigned to a shelter made of canvas and carrizo cane along with others in the regimental band: the bugler and the drummer and a man of about forty or so who played the Irish tin whistle. He had a dark beard and hair like coal, a top hat tipped over his nose. Something had happened to his right hand. He gave Simon a nod and went back to rolling a cigarette in a piece of the Galveston newspaper.

Well, said Simon. He pulled off his rucksack and stood unsmiling, holding the straps.

Well, here’s another one, said the bugler.

The drummer said, Is that a fiddle case?

No, said Simon. It’s a dead baby. His gaze swept over them with a cool look from his light eyes, the way he would assess an audience for its volatility, its mood, its ability to pay.

The bugler shoved a wooden box aside, pushed a heap of blankets into a corner, and held out an invitational hand. Here you go. You’re wondering when we’re going to eat. He glanced at Simon’s lean body under the shell jacket and his thin face.

More like what. Simon commandeered the box by putting his rucksack on it and sat down on the dirt floor. He was weak with hunger and the heat and was determined not to show it. He cocked up his knees and laid his hands in his lap.

Beans and cornbread. Sometimes hominy.

It’s food. Simon watched as the bugler went back to sewing a patch on a trouser knee. He turned up the canteen they had issued him and drank the last few drops. Then in a cautious tone, like a man telling of a dream he had once had, he said, They told me the Gulf of Mexico isn’t too far from here. He wiped his mouth on his cuff. I’d very much like to see it.

The sergeants, said the dark man, are not yet allowing the men to go on sightseeing tours. He lit up. After the surrender you could take a stroll down there and indulge yourself in sportive play upon the gleaming sands.

You reckon?

At this point anything is possible. The dark man lay back in his shirtsleeves and grimy suspenders while smoke drifted from his mouth.

That evening after the beans and cornbread Simon laid out his possessions carefully, each one in exactly the same place whether he was sleeping in the storage room of J. A. Fenning’s Public House in Victoria or a crowded army tent on the Rio Grande. He placed his good Kentucky hat on top of his rucksack, laid out his razor and comb on the box and covered them with a handkerchief, and stored his tuning fork, rosin, and extra strings in the case along with his expensive and precious Markneukirche fiddle.

"And so my name is Damon, the dark man said. Like a demon. His skin was bluish pale, colorless. He was tall and narrow in the shoulders, his long feet stuck out into their tent space in two different shoes. Damon Lessing."

Simon shifted on his hardtack box, cocked his head. He regarded Damon with a drawn, spare face, no expression.

Simon Walters. And leave my rucksack where it is.

Well now, I thought I’d lay out a hand of cards on it.

I said leave it alone.

Damon glanced at him and parted a deck of cards into two halves. You have a dangerous look on your face, fiddler. The sergeants make sharpshooters out of men like you. ‘Ghastly grim and ancient Raven wandering from the Nightly shore . . .’ Very well. I am reduced to the Missouri Shuffle. Damon made the cards snap together, rolled another cigarette, and handed it to Simon. Calm down, son. Simon thanked him and smoked it, and so they were nominally friends, or at least not ready to shoot each other.

Simon wore the regulation forage cap pulled down over his forehead and left his good hat in the tent. He formed up for drill with the others on the flat sandy stretches while enormous towering clouds built up over the Gulf and sailed inland carrying, it seemed to him, secret messages about blue storms and pirates and tales of giant unknown fish.

Every evening through the months of April and May the wind came up out of the Gulf at nine o’clock like a transparent armada set loose on the world of deep south Texas. Simon could hear the Rio Grande River just beside camp where the Mexican women came to wash their white laundry in the brown water. He could hear the bells of churches on the other side. The wind bowed the thick stands of carrizo cane and the horses ate slowly. Egrets rose up with long leisurely strokes of their wings.

They were all badly armed; they were assigned old Springfield smoothbores of Mexican War issue and the dark man with the pennywhistle had only a percussion revolver made by Dance and Brothers that he kept in his rucksack. Simon loaded, knelt, and fired with the others and his cap flew off with the recoil. They drilled there in the bright, cauterized desert, learned the manual of arms, to the rear march, and dress right dress. Simon had trouble with the last and behind him from the ranks came yells of Other arm! Other arm! The sergeant tried to get Simon to play his fiddle for marches. At morning drill the sergeant shouted his name.

Walters! Front and center!

Simon was staring out over the river cane, watching the plumed heads bend to the western wind.

Walters!

Damon jabbed him in the kidneys with a knuckle. Simon. That’s you. Apparently.

By God it is me. Yes, sir? He stepped out to front and center.

The sergeant asked him to get his fiddle for the drill.

No, sir, I will not.

The sergeant looked him up and down with a raking glance. A short redheaded fiddler with square shoulders and a trim waist, pale skin burnt a dusty brown, a mutinous expression on his face. The sergeant considered. Discipline was slipping; desertion throughout the entire Confederate Army was growing by the day, so the sergeant did not have him stripped to the waist and tied to a buckboard wheel and beaten. Instead he said in a painfully conciliatory voice, But I’m ordering you to. Why not?

Why not. Because it’s not a march instrument. Because I can’t march and bow at the same time. Because sand will ruin my fiddle. It’s everywhere. Simon jammed his tattered Confederate infantry cap down over his nose.

Well, you had better do something, said the sergeant. Musically.

Damon had a D whistle and a C and a big low G, but he had great trouble getting a good sound out of the G. So Simon borrowed the G whistle and learned it in a fairly short time. It had six holes and played in two keys. The trick was to cover the bottom hole securely. The dark man showed him how to pour boiling water down it to keep it clear of spit. The man had trouble with it because his right-hand fingers had been injured and he couldn’t reach all the holes, even in a piper’s grip.

Caught it in a sheave block, he said. At one time I was conscripted into the ironclad Yankee navy in New Orleans. But he could be burning hell on the smaller D whistle and once in a while in the evening as the cookfire died down he would sing in a rich bass voice. These fleeting charms of earth, farewell, your springs of joy are dry . . . while Simon sat with his arms around his knees and his shirt open to the evening breeze, his fine reddish hair sticking up like twigs, following the complex phrasing of that old song with his mind in a state of timelessness. He saw thin stars rise out of the unseen ocean, out of the distant east, and a world changed, a world burnt down with themselves held harmless from it all. If they were lucky, if they could continue to be lucky. I’m a long time traveling here below to lay this body down . . .

At drill they played the usual marches: When Johnny Comes Marching Home and Rose of Alabama. They guarded the trains of cotton bales that came in one wagon after another, crossing over to Mexico to be sold. Simon heard talk that the officers pocketed a good deal of the cotton money. Men gambled, told stories, walked out into the shallows of the river in their drawers or naked to drench themselves. They squashed their shirts and underwear in the thick water, laughing and throwing water at one another, and traded for chinguirito, a kind of blistering cane rum, with people from the Mexican side. The sergeant told them that the French were on the other side of the river. Why the French were there the sergeant didn’t know. Maybe they were buying the cotton. It was a strange gathering of immobile armies at the end of a world of desert and ocean and a slow brown river.

Simon worried about his hearing; someday this goddamned war and all its insanity would end and he would have to make a living with his music. He was likely to lose part of his hearing, the high tones at any rate, with this perpetual target practice. Jeff Davis had already been captured and was in jail, so what was the army’s reasoning on this matter? Lee had cashed it in a month ago at Appomattox. Lincoln was dead at the hands of a demented actor. Why were they all still here?

Nobody tells us lowlifes, said the bugler.

"Of course not, said Damon. They have forgotten about us. Let us not remind them." They sat sweating in the shade of the cane-and-canvas tent. The mindless talk, the endless talk, wore on Simon’s nerve ends. He felt like his brain was being sandpapered.

Who has got wax? Simon got to his feet. Where can I get an apple?

Oh, oh, an apple! cried the bugler. And a chess pie and a diamond stickpin! He sat and sawed off the legs of his drawers with a penknife so they would be cooler.

Do you not know, said Damon, that people in hell want ice water?

I wasn’t aware.

Simon stood up and stepped out into the blazing white-hot heat. He sauntered off to the cook’s wagon. How he managed to come back with a greasy candle end and a withered apple he never said. He broke off bits of candle for wax balls for his ears, cut up the apple, and shared out all but two slices, which he wrapped in bits of muslin and laid inside his fiddle case, then snapped it carefully shut. The apple slices would give a bit of humidity to the inside of the case and keep the delicate woods of his fiddle from drying out and cracking.

Well, I’ll be damned, said the bugler. That’s clever.

Stop swearing. You’re too young to swear, said Damon in an exhausted voice.

Be damned if I am you son of a bitch, said the bugler. I been swearing since I was six months old.

Simon had to save the candle wax for firing practice and so from time to time he wondered if he would go insane. He loved solitude; it was as necessary to him as music and water. He walked away from camp in the evenings when he could to spend an hour or two playing, working through the complexities of slip jigs in 9/8 time. If he played there at the regimental band tent, people came around to listen and sometimes applaud, and often they cried out for their favorite tunes. They wanted Lorena or some sea shanty, as if his entire duty in life was to entertain them.

So he went out alone among the saw palmetto and the carrizo cane in his shirt and vest, next to the river, where he practiced double-stopping and hokum bowing two-to-two and two-to-one, over and over. A mindless drone for anyone who came to listen. He stood straight and poised as a candle flame in a vast windless room of imagined silence. His reddish hair flew in the Gulf wind; on his face was a look of blank intensity. Every song had a secret inside. When he was away from shouting drunks and bartenders and sergeants and armies, he could think his way into the secret, note by note. The Lost Child, Wayfaring Stranger. He squinted in the low evening light at the few musical scores he possessed. He was teaching himself to read music. He played the scale on the G whistle and then some simple tunes. After an hour or so he replaced the Markneukirche in the plush lining of its case, wiped off the rosin dust, and flicked the hasps, listening for the solid click that told him his fiddle was safe inside its hard-shell case.

He knew that he did not play music so much as walk into it, as if into a palace of great riches, with rooms opening into other rooms, which opened into still other rooms, and in these rooms were courtyards and fountains with passageways to yet more mysterious spaces of melody, peculiar intervals, unheard notes.

It was there at the Confederate encampment at the ranch called Los Palmitos that Simon considered his life and how he would survive in the world to come. After the surrender, after the surrender, that time and change arriving any moment. If he were not able to play for a living, he would become restless and fall into contentiousness, ill humor; he would be sharp and impatient and inside a deep nameless distress. He sat alone and ate hoarded jerky meat, so thin it crackled. He had bought it from one of the Mexican women who crossed over holding up her skirts to sell it to him. Pretty wet brown legs. The river was very low.

His first problem was to find a girl who would fall in love with him despite his diminutive stature and his present homelessness. The right girl. He had not been a celibate; nobody growing up in the river-port town of Paducah, Kentucky, on the Ohio or playing saloons in Texas could lay claim to a life of sinless perfection, so perhaps he had no right to make demands, but the girls he had met and courted, briefly, had no comprehension of 9/8 time. They regarded him as a poor choice given his occupation as a traveling musician—always disreputable—and his stubborn, relentless dedication to his fiddle.

Never mind. After he found her, then there had to be land for sale somewhere and this would be his base and his bastion. It would be in a valley with running water and pecan groves and a surrounding of green hills. He would build her a fireplace with a waist-high hearth so she did not have to be bending over all the time at the cooking. And so he constructed an imaginary place of private loyalties and slow impeccable evenings into which he would send reels and hornpipes, furiously played. They would be for each other as much as the world was not. When life was very calm and ordered, only then could he get on with his music. Some of

Reviews for Simon the Fiddler

[hardlyhardy · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Love and war have certain things in common. Each takes us out of our comfort zone. Both can be dangerous. Both can cause us do things we would not otherwise do.And so we have the situation in “Simon the Fiddler,” the new novel from Paulette Jiles. Simon Boudin, a young introvert who wants only to play his fiddle and learn the secret he believes every song contains, manages to avoid conscription until the very end of the War Between the States, when he is forced into a Confederate uniform. His fiddle at least spares him from most front-line duty, and he is placed in an army band with a few other musicians.The end of the war doesn't mean the end of danger for Simon, for by then he is in Texas, now mostly under military control while he and his mates lack proper discharge papers. Their instruments give them opportunities to make a little money, but also make it more difficult for them to stay under the radar.So why not leave Texas and head for someplace safer? Because that's where Doris Dillon is. She is a pretty Irish immigrant pledged to serve the family of an army officer for a few years. That officer is a cruel man who has eyes for Doris himself, at least when his wife isn't around.Simon has never met Doris, but he sees her at one of his performances, where he plays an Irish song for her. The pair carry on a secret correspondence, while he pursues her and tries to find a way to rescue her and then get her to marry him. Toward the latter end, he buys some property along the Red River, sight unseen. Why would a fiddler want to become a rancher? Because he believes land might be more of an enticement to this Irish girl than a fiddle. But he doesn't really know this Irish girl.You may think you know how this is going to end, but Jiles will surprise you. This is a beautifully written, beautifully structured novel that explores new territory in that old story about love and war.

[banjo123 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

This is the story of Simon (a fiddler) towards the end and right after the American Civil War, in Texas. This was a fascinating time in history, and Jiles does an amazing job with the historical facts and the sense of place. I loved the descriptions of San Antonio. She also gives us wonderful characters, Simon is feisty, but has a tenderhearted side, and a longing for home and family. Doris, his love interest, an Irish immigrant in a difficult situation, has more grit and guile than meets the eye. I think that [News of the World], Jiles' earlier book, set in a similar time, is better, but this is very close to as good.

[maydacat_1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

By appearing younger than his actual age, Simon hopes to avoid conscription into the Confederate Army. His luck runs out towards the end of war, but his talent as a fiddler lands him in a relatively safe position in that regiment’s band. A chance performance to play for officers from both sides has him glimpsing the young and pretty governess of a northern officer, and he plays a song she requests. She goes off with the officer and his family, and Simon has fallen compulsively and completely in love. His quest to find her, with the ultimate goal of marriage, consumes him. This well-written novel paints a very descriptive picture of that time period, from the decimation of the land and its people, to the extreme poverty and hard-scrabble living just to get food and shelter to the utter horror of yellow fever. The language the author uses flows like water in a quiet stream, it is so smooth. The characters are complex and well-defined, and the plot is compelling in its simplicity. The author does an excellent job of making each character seem so real and their plight so heart-rending, that the reader can’t help but feel empathy for Simon and his ragtag band of musicians as they search for the almost-indentured governess. This book is what historical fiction should be.

[librarygeek33 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Simon the Fiddler draws the reader into the lives of Simon Boudlin and the people he meets as he wanders the South in the aftermath of the American Civil War. Paulette Jiles paints pictures with words as she describes Simon's exploits and challenges as he scratches out a living playing his prized violin. It's a book that I found difficult to put down and impels me to seek out every other book by the author. If you loved "News of the World," you'll enjoy this tale as well.

[whitreidtan · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Paulette Jiles is a gorgeous writer. Her News of the World was one of my favorite books of 2016. Simon the Fiddler, her latest novel, is set in the same half-tamed Western world as News of the World. In fact, Simon plays a role in that book and the main character there, Captain Jefferson Kidd, makes an appearance here. And the books are related beyond setting and characters. They have the same beautiful flow to them, evoking the same sweeping musicality, the same tug of lawless danger and possibility that covered so much of Texas in the immediate aftermath of the Civil War.Simon Boudlin, formerly of Paducah, Kentucky, has spent much of the Civil War playing his fiddle and evading the conscription men by hiding or running. Only at the very tail end of the war does his luck run out whereupon he's conscripted into the Confederate Army. His talent on the fiddle saves him after the South's surrender and his ensuing fight with a Union soldier to reclaim his stolen hat and fiddle, keeping him out of prison, putting him instead at a party to entertain the officers and their wives. It is there that he first lays eyes on Doris Dillon, a pretty Irish indentured servant working her contract off as governess to Colonel Webb's daughter. Simon is smitten and despite what he hears about the Colonel's character, he resolves to find and marry Doris once he has something to offer her. He is determined to earn the money and buy himself a good piece of land. So with the company of two men and a boy he played with that fateful evening, he sets out to do just that. The band travels from war torn Galveston to brash Houston and finally to occupied San Antonio with Simon ever leading the way, getting ever closer to a showdown over the woman he has loved from afar.Simon is a confident and determined character. He is economical not only with money but with words and feelings, pouring his all into his precious fiddle and the occasional fight he didn't start but will finish. The secondary characters are also fully realized and if they sometimes disappear off into the mesquite and scrub of the Texas landscape, it feels right and expected. Jiles does an amazing job of drawing the time and the place with all of its potential, both to succeed and to fail. There are adventures in the novel but they feel slow and deliberate, always working toward the destination Simon has in mind. The prose is languid and hot feeling and the dirt and grit seep through the characters and the place and the plot. The love story is measured and not flashy but steady and relentless. Simon's love of music and his tender care of his fiddle speaks of the soul of him. Some might find this moves too slowly but for readers who want to appreciate the singing of language, this stunning read will satisfy at a bone deep level.

[rosareads · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

LT Early Reviewers Book: I was three weeks into social-isolation because of the pandemic and needing the distraction only a good book can bring. Simon the Fiddler had arrived a week earlier and sat ignored on a side table. I picked it up and recalled how much I had enjoyed "News of the World" by the same author, Paulette Jiles. Needless to say, I jumped right in. Early on I was disappointed. I couldn't figure out where the book was going or if I would enjoy finding out. Then, I was pulled right in and couldn't put the book down. There is much to enjoy in this beautifully written book about love and commitment and war and friendship and music. I certainly recommend, Simon the Fiddler.

[jalfredb · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

The volume of music discussed in this book reminded me of Frog Music by Emma Donoghue. Two books that should have sound track accompaniment.

[katiekrug · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Okay, yes, this novel could have been a bit tighter, but it had a large story to tell. Or a small story on a large canvas. Or a large story on a small canvas. Or all of the above.I read Simon the Fiddler as a kind of ode to the quest stories of old, to heroic ballads and fairy tales and epic romances (in the old fashioned sense), all set within the frame of the American story – conflict and persistence and belief in a dream. You have the Quest, the Girl, the Bad Guy, the Obstacles To Overcome, and you have the ideal of land of one’s own, an honest and simple life, and the love of a good woman.It’s an excellent piece of historical fiction, as well, bringing to life the Texas frontier in the years just after the Civil War, with the landscape and the people well drawn and fully developed. Jiles' writing is strong, her characterizations sharp, and her love for her characters and their story evident.

[tamidale · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Another fabulous read from Paulette Jiles! I don't think many writers can capture the essence of Texas better. In this novel, Jiles introduces readers to Simon, an accomplished fiddler from Kentucky and a young man with big dreams.Set immediately following the end to the Civil War, Simon finds himself down near Brownsville and decides to set off with a few other musicians to make some money, buy some land and try and find a young woman that he has captured his heart. They travel up the coast of Texas, through Galveston, then Houston, stopping to play along the way so that they have money to live on.When Simon finally finds his love, he also finds quite a bit of trouble awaiting him. Although at times, the story was a bit slow moving, the ending was certainly exciting as Simon finds out whether or not he wins the girl and what sacrifices are involved in doing so.Jiles paints such a vivid picture of post-war Texas in a time where martial law was in place and emotions were still running high. Having deep roots in Texas, I especially loved this snapshot of what life was like for my ancestors during this time in history. I also loved the little surprise Jiles added to the story, that only readers of her previous work will notice.Many thanks to William Morrow for allowing me to read an advance copy and give my honest review.

[delphimo_1 · Rating: 2 out of 5 stars]

Paulette Jiles won acclaim for News of the World. Her latest book, Simon the Fiddler, provides a story of the end of the Civil War and the duties of conscription officials and how the soldiers fared after the war ended. Simon, a gifted fiddler, joins other disillusioned men hoping to find employment and a little happiness. Paulette Jiles writes well, but in a singsong and boring style. News of the World presented a wonderful story of a young girl and an old man that wandered from town to town reading to the uneducated people. Tom Hanks will soon appear in the movie version of this book. Paulette Jiles utilizes the same style in Simon the Fiddler which makes reading extremely difficult.

[nbmars · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

This story begins in Texas in October 1864, when we meet Simon Boudlin, 23 but counting on his youthful appearance to avoid conscription into the Confederate Army. When he finally is impressed, he is placed in a regimental band in Lt. Col. George H. Giddings's Texas Cavalry Battalion. Unfortunately for Simon, this was the regiment that became involved in the last battle of the Civil War at Palmito Ranch near Brownsville, Texas. Although the war had ended, a Union officer apparently was unwilling to go home without accruing some glory from battle, against the express orders of his superiors.[The action lasted a total of four hours. Confederate casualties were a few dozen wounded. The federals lost 111 men and four officers captured, and thirty men wounded or killed.]Following the battle, Simon was ordered to play (along with a small group of other musicians from both armies) at a dinner for the officers. There he was immediately smitten with Doris Dillon, an 18-year-old Irish girl who was indentured for three years to Colonel Webb. (In this book, Webb was the Union officer who ordered the conflict, although in real life it was Colonel Theodore H. Barrett). Simon sees how Colonel Webb mistreats Doris, but can do no more than play her an Irish tune he hopes conveys his regard for her.Simon’s skill with music has gotten him out of more than a few scrapes, including when he assaulted a Union soldier for trying to steal his fiddle, his prized Markneukirche violin, which“cost him years of meticulous saving.” [In real life, Markneukirchen is the main town of the small musical instrument-making region in Germany, known for four centuries for high quality brass and string instruments.]The author writes:“He knew he did not play music so much as walk into it, as if into a palace of great riches, with rooms opening into other rooms, which opened into still other rooms, and in these rooms were courtyards and fountains with passageways to yet more mysterious space of melody, peculiar intervals, unheard notes.”Perhaps more critical to his success, his repertoire “seemed to be without end. He had a bottomless supply of waltzes, jigs, reels, hornpipes, and slow airs. Some of the slow airs could bring men and women to a standstill, their eyes brimming with tears for a remembered love or a certain long-lost valley at twilight or another country without war, taken by emotions of loss and exile for which they had no words.”Here Jiles has indeed captured exactly the nature of music’s appeal. Simon contrives a way to correspond with Doris through the young boy who is his Irish-American drummer, and they keep track of each other over the next year and a half until he can get to San Antonio to see her again. First he and his small band of musicians have to make their way across the interior of South Texas, earning money as they go by playing for whoever will hire them. The author’s descriptions of the territory and its people reflect the great deal of research she has made into the post-Civil War era in the Southwest (having fashioned three novels so far in this setting), as shown in this view the characters had of the land after they crossed the Brazos River:"Then through the river-valley forests on the far side and once again up onto grassland, where groups of feral cattle with great lyre-shaped horns stared at them from a distance. . . . With the recent rains the cenizo was flowering in clouds of magenta and the yucca sent up its white silky candelabras. This was the interior of south Texas, where all the maps faded away, the murky rivers came from unknown sources, and the world’s authority lay in firepower and the loyalty of those who rode with you.” When Simon arrives in San Antonio, it is not long before both he and Doris are in danger from the evil but (sadly) realistic person of Colonel Webb. I found myself skipping to the end to assuage my anxiety for the characters before I could go back and follow the course of the action.Evaluation: I never miss the opportunity to read a new book by Paulette Jiles. Her novels explore violent historical periods with ironically poetic eloquence, and in a voice unlike any other author I have read. She does a great deal of research, and then dramatizes conflicts among people in the era about which she is reporting with an unstinting yet lyrical eye. This novel takes place during the same period as her previous book, News of the World, and in fact, the main character from that book makes a cameo appearance in this one. The post-Civil War period in Texas was one particularly given to dramatic developments given the unsettled status of law in the state and resulting turmoil.Jiles' emphasis on courage and character, as well as on the pain, naivety, and hope of love, results in an unforgettable stories. This novel is no exception.

[copperskye · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

In (mostly) post-Civil War Texas, young Simon travels with a group of fellow ex-soldier musicians, playing in bars and hotels, working to save money to purchase land and marry an Irish indentured servant who works as a governess for a Union officer living in San Antonio. Beautifully written but a little meandering and I never felt any affection for the main character. I thought some editing could have been done and whatever page count lost to that could have been added to the end where the story started to pick up just before the book ended. I was delighted to encounter Captain Kidd from News of the World which reminded me of just much more I enjoyed that earlier Jiles book. Still, a worthwhile read for fans of historical fiction.

[blbera · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Paulette Jiles returns to Texas right after the Civil War in Simon the Fiddler. As in her successful News of the World, this Texas is vivid; the military occupation, lawlessness -- and possibilities -- all shine through. JIles' prose brings Texas to life: "enormous towering clouds built up over the Gulf and sailed inland carrying, it seemed to him, secret messages about blue storms and pirates and tales of giant unknown fish."Music is at the heart of the story. One character tells Simon that they won't hang a fiddler -- carpenters, laborers, merchants, yes -- but not a fiddler. People's lives are hard after the war and music takes them to better places for a little while.Her protagonist, Simon, is a brilliant character that we cheer for from the moment we meet him, hiding from conscription officers. While Simon drives the plot, we also have sidekicks, a true love, and a villain, turning this into a rollicking adventure that keeps us turning the pages.

[jillrhudy · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Simon is a redheaded fiddler who gets caught up in the Civil War when it's effectively already over. Afterwards, he moves through Texas fiddling for his supper with varying degrees of success. He gets into trouble with the authorities, falls in love with an Irish governess named Doris, and dreams of having his own piece of land and putting Doris on it while he continues to travel and fiddle. This isn't enough of a story to fill up a novel of over 350 pages. There is no particular cameraderie between Simon and his fellow musicians (mostly the opposite), the romance with Doris is unromantic, and the reader really needs to fall in love with Simon and his dream, and I didn't. Would life with Simon beat the whole governess gig for Doris? Given that their relationship comprises half the plot, this shouldn't be an open question. "News of the World" was at least twice as readable and had infinitely better characters.The writing is accomplished and confident (I drank a quart of water reading about sailing to Galveston), and the sense of time and place is arresting, but this is not enough to make up for the novel's serious shortcomings. I received an advanced readers copy from the publisher and was encouraged to write a review.

[hccpsk · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Paulette Jiles writes quiet, meticulously researched historical stories, and Simon the Fiddler is no exception to this successful formula. As the title suggests, Simon Boudlin plays the violin in Texas during the waning days of the Civil War. Caught in the chaos, he and a group of musicians desert and travel a dangerous route through the state playing when and where they can get paid. He cannot forget Doris Dillon--the nanny of the Colonel he ran away from--and he dreams of a way to marry her and live a peaceful family life. Jiles captures the lawless and confusing Texas landscape as the group moves from Galveston to Houston to San Antonio, but the story drags as much as the traveling. This is not the tight narrative of Jiles’ beloved News of the World, but a much longer and drawn out one--too much so for me; much of the middle of the book floundered with no real plot. Still, Jiles’ fans and readers of historical fiction may enjoy this interesting look at a time and place not often written about, and enough happens in the last 75 pages to almost make up for the lack of action prior.

[ebt1002 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Paulette Jiles has done it again. Set in southeastern Texas in the immediate aftermath of the US Civil War, this is the story of Simon and his ragtag band of musicians, making music and - barely - living. Early in the story, Simon meets Doris, an Irish immigrant indentured to a wealthy Pennsylvania family. Ah, this is love. Simon swears to himself that he will find her again, after he has found and purchased some land. He saves and scrimps as his little band makes their way toward San Antonio; he also has one of his buddies write to Doris on his behalf, hoping to keep himself in her consciousness. The story is engaging and charming, poignant and sweet. But it's Jiles' writing that makes this novel memorable. She evokes both the landscape and the era in exquisite prose. She transports the reader so wholly to the time and place, and she inspires such empathy for the characters, the read is sheer pleasure. Highly recommended. I was provided with a copy of this novel via Early Reviewers.

[soubhikiewiet · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Having never read anything by the author before, I wasn’t sure what to expect. I was invested in Simon’s story right from the start; as he was forced to join the Confederate Army against his will just at the very end of the Civil War. He survives the single battle he has to fight, manages to save his fiddle from a thief, and then is made to play music for a celebration of the end of the war, along with soldiers from both sides of the battle. There he meets Dorris and immediately decides he’s going to marry her one day. From here the story unfolds as Simon and his friends and band mates travel across Texas playing music and saving the money needed to buy property, all with the intent of finding Dorris again and becoming her husband. This isn’t a fast paced book until the last few chapters, but the writing is lovely, and I liked Simon’s determination and spirit. I would absolutely read more by Paulette Jiles!

[thewanderingjew_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Simon the Fiddler, Paulette Jiles.For the first time in a long time, I truly enjoyed a book. Lately, today, every author seems to feel that it is necessary to put in extraneous messages, progressive messages that express their political views. This book has no ulterior motive. It is simply a good book. It is a love story in a time of chaos. It is the story of Simon and Doris, and the accidental meeting which hurls them into their future.This is a story of love at first sight that cannot be ignored. It is a simpler time, but a more chaotic time. It is 1865. The Civil War has just ended. Simon who had made his living playing his fiddle and had avoided conscription by pretending to be a young boy of about 15, instead of his 23 years, was caught near the end of the war and forced to join the Confederate Army. When the Yankees won, he was taken into custody again, by the other side. When he was told to play his fiddle with an assortment of other men who had also been detained, he was able to organize them into an effective little band. While preparing to perform, he spied a young woman and was smitten on the spot. The young woman, Doris Dillon, was a teenager who had come from Ireland to work for the family of a powerful Union officer. She must remain with the family for three years, a family that proved to be harsh and abusive. Colonel Webb made unwelcome advances to her and limited her freedom. When she spied Simon Boudlin, the fiddler, she was also smitten. Thus begins a journey that will unite these two young lovers pierced by Cupid’s arrow!Doris traveled to San Antonio, with the Webb family. Simon, who was now possessed of the idea that he must find a way to see Doris again, could think of little else. He was in love. He had escaped from the Yankees with a small group of musicians and they make their way to Galveston, arriving broke, hungry, tired and and in need of work. It seems, however, that music is a sought after commodity and a fiddler is always welcome. Although they were a sad looking group, with little more than their instruments and the clothes on their backs, which were themselves little more than rags, they soon learn to work together, and they find work. They become like brothers, loyal and devoted to each other. How their lives ebb and flow in these turbulent times tells the story. It was a dangerous time with an atmosphere of lawlessness in many cities devastated by the war. Simon’s own family had lost its land and business when the Yankees came and burned their stables to the ground and stole their horses.Simon’s determination to find Doris, during those tumultuous times, drives him on and is carefully documented. Their ability to communicate is rare and fraught with danger and deception. The postal service is erratic and unreliable. Often people act as messengers, and mail arrives almost by chance. The characters are sincere in their efforts and simple in their ways. They will endear themselves to the reader. The author’s obvious knowledge of the history and attention to detail and description, illustrates the time period accurately. I read the book slowly because I did not want it to end. Every measured word was necessary and the descriptions of the music and the environment enriched my experience. The historic details illuminated the danger of the times with the war and Indian attacks on the horizon. The novel showed how far someone would go to reunite with their love and what they would risk to keep it. The in-depth exploration of the characters’ range of emotions was sensitive and enlightening. The characters developed slowly, becoming unique and individual, easily recognized. Ultimately, it is a story about a young man who makes his way in the world with one driving purpose, to reconnect with the woman he believes is his soul mate. He will scale mountains, swim seas, and slay dragons to win her heart. It is a lovely story, without the preaching about social issues which is so common in many novels today.

[felliot-1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

I received an advanced an advanced reader’s copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.If you like historical fiction, you will enjoy this book.If you like a good story, you will enjoy this book.If you like old time music, you will really enjoy this book.I have not (yet) read any of Ms. Jiles’ previous works, but it is obvious that she is both an accomplished author and musician. The story of Simon the Fiddler is as open as the Texas countryside it is set in. She has done an excellent job of giving the reader a sense life in post-Civil War Texas. The real joy of the book comes from Jile’s lyric and poetic voice as she weaves together the tale of Simon and his band of musical friends with that of Doris the indentured Irish lass and the military family that controls every aspect of her life.What truly sets this book apart is the central role that music plays throughout the story. For this is a story as much about the role that music played in the everyday lives of everyday people as it is about the people themselves. This is a book that comes with its own soundtrack. Even if you don’t know the difference between a jig and a waltz you will quickly hear both in your head as you read Jile’s wonderful (and wonder filled) story.

[kimaoverstreet · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Once again, Paulette Giles has captured the grittiness, eccentricities and larger than life characters of the Old West. Beginning as the Civil War draws to a close, this novel follows Simon the Fiddler and his band of misfit friends as they struggle to survive and find Simon’s love interest. Slower in pace than some of Jiles’ other novels, this should still be a hit with her fans.

[browner56 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

It is late 1864 and the Civil War is beginning to wind down. Simon Boudlin, a 23-year old itinerant musician, has done his best to avoid the conflict by pretending to be a much younger man. Eventually, he is conscripted into the Confederate army and survives one of the last battles of the war in the Rio Grande valley of Texas. He meets Doris Dillon, a beautiful Irish woman who left home to become an indentured servant to the family of a Union officer, and quickly falls in love with her. However, Doris’ service contract forbids personal relationships and so Simon sets off on a two-year journey to seek his fortune playing in bars and private gatherings as a fiddler in a pickup band. His adventures lead him from the Mexican border to Galveston, Houston, and southern Texas before finally ending up in San Antonio. There, he hopes to reunite with Doris, who has faced constant hardships and dangers of her own, and start a life together.In Simon the Fiddler, author Paulette Jiles weaves Simon and Doris’ story in a tale that is as rich with atmosphere as it is with character development. As in her wonderful novel News of the World, Jiles has a very special feel for the geography of Texas and she does a masterful job of describing all aspects of both the towns and natural surroundings that Simon moves through on his travels around the state. In fact, it is in these descriptions of the sights, the sounds, and the places where the book really shines. Having been born and raised in Kentucky, Simon is seeing this part of the world for the first time and the author makes us feel as if we are too. She captures beautifully the myriad nuances of this often desolate and lonely landscape, as well as the almost claustrophobic feeling that besets the characters when they find themselves restricted to a well-populated city.What I found to be less successful, though, was the story itself. Although the author tries to repeat the “journey around post-Civil War Texas” frame of News of the World—Captain Jefferson Kidd, the main character from that earlier effort, even makes a cameo appearance—this novel is simply not as engaging. I never really came to care much for Simon, who frequently acted impulsively in ways that seemed unjustified by his sad upbringing, to find his story to be that interesting. I was willing to be more charmed by Doris than I was, but unfortunately we learn relatively little of her life and backstory for all the time we spend with Simon. The same can be said for some of the supporting characters in the novel, notably Damon and Doroteo, two of Simon’s bandmates. Consequently, while well-crafted and well-written, Simon the Fiddler falls a little short of the high mark the author established with her previous work.

[cwhisenant11 · Rating: 2 out of 5 stars]

I am a big fan of the author’s previous novel, News of the World, but this one was hard to get through. Simon was not a likable character and I found myself with no real interest in whether he got the girl or not. There were some interesting moments but I just didn’t connect with the story as a whole.

[ellenh_28 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Jiles has again captured the this time period, just as the Civil War is winding down and Martial law goes into effect in Texas. The characters, the heat, the poverty, the lawlessness, the confusion, and hope in this incredibly disorganised state is so well done here. A book to certainly read as a companion to Jiles other novel "The News of The World". I may have to read them all now.

[pegmcdaniel · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

I loved News of the World by Paulette Jiles so was excited to receive an ARC of her latest novel, Simon the Fiddler, from the publisher, William Morrow via LibraryThing, in exchange for my honest opinion.This is a Western historical fiction/love story and the setting was in Texas just as the Civil War was ending. Because of his youthful appearance, Simon evaded serving but just as the War ended, he was conscripted into the Confederate Army. Since Simon was an accomplished fiddler, he was placed in a regimental band. While playing at a military affair, he sees Doris, a young Irish governess to the daughter of a Union Officer. It's love at first sight for Simon.Simon was in his early 20's and dreamed of buying land and marrying Doris after her three-year contract ends. He learns that the Union Officer, his family, and Doris will be moving to San Antonio. He teams up with other musicians and travels through Texas to earn money in order to survive and save for a down payment to buy land.The first part of this story moves slowly as the characters are introduced. As Simon travels through Texas, we see the struggles of the people trying to get their lives back after a devastating war. Ms. Jiles does a great job of describing the atmosphere of the lonely countryside as well as the large city conflicts, the hot weather, and the desperation of people trying to survive all the destruction and disease. But most of all, she captures Simon's love of music, his fiddle, Doris, and his band members; his musical talent, his ambitions, and his ability to carry-on to achieve his dreams.

[sblock_16 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Gorgeous prose, ending seemed rushed.

[maryreinert · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Another good read by this author; however, not quite as good as "News of the World." Set in Texas after the Civil War, this is the story of Simon, a red-haired fiddler who finds himself in Texas with no prospects other than his fiddle. He soon pairs up with three others -- a young Irish boy, a black banjo player, and a Irish whistle player. Simon is quick witted, short tempered, and talented. He gets a short glimpse of a young woman who is indentured to a Army colonel. Doris Dillion has not become his life's goal as he is determined to find her, purchase some land, and raise a family unlike his own personal childhood.The story takes the group from Galveston and around southern Texas finally to San Antonio where Doris is living at the army post. Many adventures follow the group. Eventually, the young Irish boy dies, the banjo player departs and he and his friend Damon continue on. A good story especially when Simon finally gets to San Antonio. Some beautiful writing with lovely imagery.

[erickas-3 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Set in post-Civil-War 1860s Texas, the story follows Simon, a fiddler recently deserted from the Confederate Army who wanders through small Texas towns eking out a living playing fiddle in bars and public houses with his two companions, Doroteo and Damon. Simon falls in love with Miss Doris Dillon, a young Irish immigrant under contract as governess to Colonel Webb, a lecherous tyrant. Simon and Doris are separated, and the book spans Simon’s life trying to woo her from afar while dodging bar fights and alligators. Jiles’ writing is sublime. She obviously does her research, but the story was never pedantic. The descriptions of the second-hand clothes the men wore riddled with bullet holes, the dust and grime that covered their hands, the heat and sickness pervading the small towns were absorbing. I was quickly immersed in the kaleidoscope of Simon’s life, each incident bringing twists and changes as he squeaked through one trouble after another. At the core of this novel is the volatile time period and the treacherous Texas environs. The book isn’t so much plot driven as it is simply an experience. Jiles captures the west in uncertain political times, describing the unpredictable lifestyle of the characters against a barren and often dangerous landscape. Many thanks to LibraryThing and William Morrow / Harper Collins for the advance copy in exchange for my review.

[asheley-627878 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Simon is a musician, traveling around playing his fiddle for anyone that will listen. The Civil War has been going on for years now and he has managed to avoid being forced to fight for either side because of his youthful look and his ability to lie and run. All of that changes when, at the very end of the Civil War, he is caught and made to join the Confederacy. He fights during the last land battle of the war, way down in South Texas. Simon ends up getting put in jail after the war ends because fights a Union soldier that has stolen all of his belongings, including his beloved fiddle.Simon has two big goals in life: to buy some land and to find a good wife. It is while he is playing music for a Union officer’s party that he finds THE GIRL: Doris Dillon. She is beautiful and Irish, and she has stolen his heart. The thing is, she is indentured to Officer Webb, bound by agreement to work for him for three years. Simon has decided to wait for her and during this time, he travels around Texas with some of the other members of the Regimental Band he played with during the war. He plans to keep saving up his money so he can buy that land and he can live happily ever after, with Doris.I completely nerded out while I read Simon the Fiddler. I still am, actually. If you read and loved Mrs. Jiles’ last book, News of the World, you may remember that Simon was one of the characters in that story. Not one of the main characters, but his role was very important. Well THIS story focuses on Simon as the center of the story and actually takes place a few years before News of the World. So we essentially get to see how Simon got to the place he was when we met him first.For a book-lover, this is one of the best things ever!! It’s like two worlds collide, except both stories occur in the same place: Texas in the 1800’s, after the Civil War, when the United States flag once again flew over Texas. There is a general post-war “uncivilized” feel to the place. The countryside is hot and overrun with bandits and thieves, the terrain war torn in some places. It is across this Texas that Captain Kidd journeyed to bring Johanna home in News of the World, and it is across this same Texas that Simon and the rest of his band play their songs for money. Money to be saved so Simon could buy his land.The thing that I loved most about this story is the post-war feel to it. Ms. Jiles is super-good at setting the scene, and while I was reading Simon the Fiddler, I felt almost a little bit off-balanced here and there. What I mean is that there is confusion in the entire area about how things should be now that the war is over. Life hasn’t quite gone back to the way things were before the war started, and some places still don’t have accurate, up-to-date news. I love that I could read and put myself in this place, just imagine how uncertain that may have been for people. Back before the time of the internet and news that comes in-real-time. I remember feeling this with News of the World too, but this story takes place earlier, in the immediate time after the war, so I think that confused feeling was slightly more pronounced and accurate.I also love the setting. LOVE IT. The story feels hot and sweaty and sandy. It feels lawless. It feels like saloons and pubs, like wagons and horses. It feels like old, worn-out war uniforms all over the place because those were the clothes that many people had. It feels like most of the country is still trying to figure out what to do to make life go back to normal.The story is plenty different, though. While Captain Kidd and Johanna met up and joined for travels early in News of the World, in this story it takes a good while for Simon to meet up with the lovely Doris. Life is not easy for either of them and there is patience required. Simon still travels around (loved that!) but it felt like his travels were a little bit slower because it takes him a while to connect with Doris. This story actually feels a little bit slower all around, probably because saving money takes a while. I’m not entirely sure that Simon’s story punched me in the heart the way Captain Kidd and Johanna did, but that would have been difficult for him to do. An older, rugged man and a young orphaned, kidnapped girl together was bound to pull at my heart. It is for this reason that it isn’t exactly fair to Simon to compare his story to that of Captain Kidd and Johanna (like I’m clearly doing here).But, listen, I loved this. I loved it so much. I can’t wait for my husband to read it next, because we have shared Paulette Jiles’ books in the past. You certainly do not have to have read the previous book before this one, but it made me infinitely happier and more excited to find out that I knew Simon already.I received this book for free from the publisher in exchange for an honest review. This does not affect my opinion of the book or the content of my review. Thank you, William Morrow Books!

[bookscookslooks · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Simon is a man who appears much younger than he is and this has been helpful in keeping him out of the army on both sides of the War Between the States. Until the very end it seems Simon is finally conscripted and he just wants to survive. It seems like he will get out clean but his regiment is attacked by a contingent of Union soldiers who didn’t seem to get the word that the war was over.It is after this raid that Simon and some others caught up in the goings on meet and come together as musicians to perform at the “celebration.” While performing he sees the most amazing young woman and he falls immediately in love but she is indentured to the Union Colonel for a 3 year contract. He also feels he needs to be a man of substance before he can present himself to her.Thus begins the long journey of Simon becoming a man who can be proud of himself and who feels himself worthy to ask for his love’s hand in marriage. But the Colonel is not an honorable man and it will take all that Simon has to give to find a way back to her.Simon the Fiddler is not a fast paced book, it meanders much like a traveling fiddler would have in the time after the Civil War. Ms. Jiles has a beautifully lyrical way of writing that just draws you in and has you following along on Simon’s adventures, both big and small as he tries to find his way back to love.It’s at times a very sweet tale and at others a very harsh tale and one that I wanted to continue. I am left wanting more which I suppose is both good and bad for the ending left me both satisfied and with several questions. I don’t know if a sequel is coming but I know I would welcome one.

[maneekuhi · Rating: 2 out of 5 stars]

Paulette Jiles’ previous book, “News of the World” is one of my favorites. I thought it might be her last so I was pleasantly surprised to read a (very favorable) Washington Post review recently of Jiles’ latest, “Simon the Fiddler”. I ordered it straight away and began reading it minutes later. It turned out to be a huge disappointment. Slow, no tension, no romance, it just dragged on and on. I read only small chunks at a time, and occasionally there were three to four day periods where I didn’t pick it up at all. None of the characters are the least bit interesting, nor is a major theme of the book, music and music instruments of the 1860s. ZZZZZZZZ. This is probably a one star effort – I just don’t get the 5 star reviews from some other readers – but out of respect for Jiles’ other work….2 stars.