The iconic image of the American cowboy, a solitary figure navigating the vast expanses of the western frontier, has been etched into the very fabric of national identity.
This archetype, embodying notions of rugged individualism, unwavering self-reliance, and quintessential masculinity, largely dominates popular imagination, thanks in no small part to the pervasive influence of Hollywood. However, this carefully constructed narrative, often presenting the cowboy as an exclusively heterosexual, white male, deliberately overlooks a far more intricate and historically nuanced reality.
For too long, the deeply significant, often intimate, male-male relationships that were foundational to frontier life have been systematically erased from public memory. This comprehensive exploration aims to dismantle the conventional perception of the American cowboy, tracing the myth's literary genesis, confronting the historical suppression of queer identities and homosocial bonds, and ultimately challenging the narrow, monolithic definition of American masculinity that has shaped our collective understanding for generations.
The literary genesis of the American cowboy: James Fenimore Cooper and the frontiersman
Long before the silver screen brought the cowboy to life, the literary landscape of early America laid the groundwork for this enduring legend.
While many might attribute the cowboy's creation to twentieth-century cinema, the true architect of the American frontiersman as a folk hero was James Fenimore Cooper. Diverging sharply from the prevalent European-centric literature of his era, Cooper pioneered a distinctly American narrative, weaving tales set against the untamed wilderness that captivated a burgeoning nation.
His profound impact on American literary and popular culture cannot be overstated.
Beginning with his seminal work, The pioneers, in 1823, and later cementing his legacy with the five-novel series, The leatherstocking tales, Cooper introduced the world to Natty Bumppo, an archetype that would become the literary progenitor of the Hollywood cowboy.
The distinguished literary critic D.H. Lawrence recognized Cooper's unique contribution, asserting that he wasn't merely writing fiction but crafting an "original American myth." This myth, as Lawrence contended, served a crucial purpose in understanding white masculinity in nineteenth-century America.
Woven deeply within these sagas of exploration, adventure, and nascent American exceptionalism are profound examinations of male-male relationships, often eclipsing conventional heterosexual pairings.
Across the sweeping narrative of The leatherstocking tales, Natty Bumppo's bond with his indigenous companion, Chingachgook, stands as a central, recurring motif.
Over the course of these five novels, their relationship evolves into a deeply committed partnership, one that consistently prioritizes their shared life over potential romantic or marital attachments with women. They forge a life together, pooling their resources, sharing intimate spaces, and even, at times, taking on paternal roles for orphaned children.
In every conceivable sense, theirs is a relationship that transcends mere friendship, functioning as a marriage, albeit one that radically departs from the conventional heterosexual unions of the period. Their connection defies the rigid gender-based dichotomies that characterized relationships of that time, challenging the very foundations of what was considered "normal" or "natural."
In this way, the dynamic between Cooper's frontiersmen can be seen as inherently subversive, posing a fundamental threat to the emerging modern conceptions of heterosexuality and masculinity, which were increasingly defined by strict gender roles and expectations.
Their bond, while deeply intimate, existed without the restrictive frameworks of sexual categories that often limit contemporary understandings of sexuality. It hints at a form of erotic connection that was powerful and central to their existence, yet unconstrained by labels or societal expectations that would later arise.
Unveiling the real frontier: homosociality and hidden histories
Beyond the pages of Cooper's novels, the stark realities of frontier life fostered conditions where strong male-male bonds were not just common but essential for survival.
The harsh, often brutal environment of the American wilderness demanded absolute interdependence. Men lived, worked, and faced danger together, forging an unbreakable camaraderie born of shared hardship. From eating and sleeping side-by-side to navigating perilous landscapes, these partnerships were intense and all-encompassing.
It was within this context of profound companionship that many sought and found emotional and, at times, sexual intimacy from their few companions on the range.
Historical accounts confirm this aspect of frontier life. As Garceau notes, the scarcity of women in these remote territories meant that men frequently turned to one another for all forms of connection, including sexual.
Crucially, the nineteenth century had a vastly different understanding of sexual identity than exists today. Modern conceptions of sexual orientation, as a fixed, inherent aspect of a person's being, were still in their nascent stages. Engaging in same-sex acts did not necessarily compel a cowboy to redefine his entire sexual identity or fundamentally challenge his perceived masculinity.
Homosexuality, in this historical context, was often viewed as an act or a behavior, rather than an orientation that dictated one's entire self-perception. This nuance is vital for understanding the fluidity of frontier sexuality.
A poignant example of this historical reality can be found in a well-known variation of "The cowboy's lament," a folk song often recited or sung.
One version includes lines that speak volumes about the nature of these intimate bonds: "I ain't got no use for wimmen, a-trailin' after men. I got a big stout feller, and a horse, and a rifle. And I ain't got no use for wimmen, I knowed him true." The italicization of "knowed" in the original implies a depth of understanding and love that transcends simple friendship, suggesting an unspoken, yet profound, connection.
This poetic fragment not only hints at the presence of homosexual intimacy in the frontier West but also indicates a broader culture of sexual ambiguity, where such relationships could coexist with, and even reinforce, traditional notions of masculinity. Historically, the cowboy was able to engage in same-sex relationships while retaining his social standing and masculine identity.
In fact, these kinds of deeply bonded, often exclusive, relationships would have been a great privilege on the range.
They offered cowboys the profound human desire for affection, companionship, and emotional support, all while allowing them to maintain their cherished independence, a cornerstone of the cowboy ethos. Men on the frontier routinely displayed levels of physical and emotional affection with one another that their counterparts in more settled, eastern regions might have found unsettling or unacceptable.
Homosociality - the extensive social bonding between individuals of the same sex - was not merely tolerated; it was a core component of community and survival in cowboy culture. As Packard (referencing pages 3 and 7, likely from his work) suggests, this deep male camaraderie allowed men to forge crucial connections without societal retribution, becoming the very fabric of their social world.
The systematic erasure: how the myth was reshaped
Given the pervasive nature of homosocial and homoerotic bonds on the frontier, the question naturally arises: how did such a developed and accepted aspect of cowboy culture become so thoroughly expunged from historical memory and popular myth?
The answer lies in the process of myth canonization, a phenomenon intricately linked to the formal closing of the American frontier. It is widely acknowledged that the era of the open frontier effectively ended around 1890, when the superintendent of the U.S. Census declared that population growth had reached a point where a distinct "frontier line" between East and West could no longer be drawn.
This pivotal moment, marking the geographical end of an era, coincided almost perfectly with a profound societal shift: the solidification of the sexual and gender binary.
As America transitioned from an expanding frontier nation to a more settled, industrialized society, there was a concerted effort to define and codify "natural" behaviors.
This emerging binary system posited that gender behavior - how an individual acts, feels, and thinks - should intrinsically correspond to their physiological sex. Central to these prescribed behaviors was sexual intercourse, which, under this strict system, was to occur exclusively between opposite genders.
The ideological underpinning of this concept was a supposedly "natural" order. Consequently, anyone whose identity or behavior deviated from these increasingly rigid binaries was deemed unnatural, deviant, and an affront to societal norms.
Within this framework, women were often "othered," their perceived qualities used to enhance and define the primacy of male identity.
To suggest that a man possessed "effeminate" qualities or engaged in behaviors traditionally assigned to women was seen as a direct contradiction to his masculinity, inherently diminishing his status. This created an impossible paradox for the queer cowboy. The American West was idealized as the birthplace of the nation's character, a crucible where the "ideal citizen" was forged.
Yet, if the men who tamed this land - the very heroes of westward expansion - included openly queer individuals, it would fundamentally threaten the entire justification for the expansion itself. If the mythmakers were to concede that the West was won by people their society was increasingly labeling as deviants, it would destabilize the moral and ideological foundations of the nation's manifest destiny.
In essence, if there was a distinctly national identity forged by the cowboy, and if that identity carried homoerotic undertones through the partnerships formed in the wilderness, then, by extension, something homoerotic might be embedded within the very fabric of American national identity itself.
This was an unpalatable, even dangerous, conclusion for the architects of the national myth. Therefore, mythmakers embarked on a deliberate campaign to erase any and all lasting ties between men that hinted at deeper intimacy, ultimately giving birth to the enduring, yet historically inaccurate, image of the cowboy as a lone ranger.
Critics of the time, in an attempt to rationalize and dismiss the abundant historical evidence of male-male intimacy, reductively assessed cowboy sexual relationships as purely physical, almost clinical, acts designed solely to relieve sexual frustration in an environment devoid of women.
This narrative conveniently overlooked the emotional depth, love, and genuine connection that often characterized these relationships, erasing the presence of men who loved men.
Brokeback mountain and the challenge to the myth
This explains, in part, the vehement and often threatened reaction that greeted the 2005 film Brokeback mountain.
The film's depiction of a profound, enduring love story between two cowboys fundamentally challenged the long-established binaries of gender and sexuality that had been carefully constructed within the American cowboy myth. The very portrayal of two unequivocally masculine icons - Ennis del Mar and Jack Twist - engaging in behaviors previously deemed antithetical to American masculinity shattered the foundational narrative.
It exposed the stark reality of what the myth had aggressively deemed impossible: that rugged men could be vulnerable, deeply intimate, and passionately in love with one another while retaining every ounce of their perceived masculinity.
Brokeback mountain directly negated the core conceptions of American masculinity that the Hollywood cowboy had meticulously ingrained into society.
For those whose sense of self and masculinity was inextricably linked to the traditional image of the lone, straight cowboy, the film served as a jarring revelation. It exposed the paradoxical and fragile nature of their own identity, by challenging the very metric through which they qualified their masculinity.
By forcing its audience to acknowledge a deep, authentic connection between its protagonists - a connection that resonated with feelings held by many other American men, suppressed or unacknowledged - the film compelled a confrontation with the artificial boundary between homosocial and homoerotic.
This boundary, imposed by deep-seated homophobia and meticulously reinforced by the Hollywood cowboy myth, was suddenly rendered transparent.
In doing so, Brokeback mountain offered a transformative lens through which to view the myth of the American cowboy and, by extension, American masculinity itself.
It presented a window into a new, healthier, and more historically accurate approach to these foundational narratives. By daring to challenge the revisionist history perpetuated by the Hollywood cowboy, the film not only presented a more honest and truthful account of frontier life but also highlighted the systemic erasure that had occurred.
The carefully crafted image of the American cowboy, almost exclusively a straight, white man, was a product of a deliberate effort to reinforce justifications for westward expansion and to preserve systems of white supremacy. The omission of anyone other than Anglo-Americans from the cowboy myth served to "other" a vast segment of the American population.
Towards a more inclusive American narrative
The consequences of this narrow portrayal extend far beyond historical inaccuracy.
It implicitly suggests that only straight, white men are capable of embodying idealized masculinity. Furthermore, this omission subtly communicates that any individual who does not fit these specific qualifications cannot be a "true American" or a legitimate hero within the national narrative.
Such a restrictive myth ultimately impoverishes American identity, failing to represent the vast, vibrant diversity that has always characterized the nation.
America needs a more inclusive myth, one that can genuinely reflect the multifaceted experiences and identities of all its people.
Brokeback mountain, in its courageous portrayal of a historically honest narrative, offers one viable rubric for a new kind of myth. It demonstrates that strength, courage, and heroism are not exclusive to a single demographic or sexual orientation. By embracing a more complete and truthful understanding of its past, America can foster a national identity that is not only more accurate but also more resilient, inclusive, and genuinely representative of its diverse citizenry.
The legacy of the American cowboy, when viewed through this broader lens, becomes a powerful testament to the complexity and richness of human experience, urging us to look beyond simplistic narratives and embrace the full spectrum of our shared history.