When the noted historian Frederick Jackson Turner stated in an address in 1893 that the settlement of the West explained American development, he focused attention on an aspect of American culture which has received constant study and analysis ever since…. And perhaps the most whole-hearted exponent of [Turner's] viewpoint among contemporary American men of letters is Conrad Richter. His fiction is all but entirely a nostalgic hymn of praise for the vigor of the American pioneer. (p. 311)

Much has happened to the American dream since [President Andrew] Jackson died in 1845. Even in his lifetime those forces which would cause much of the disillusionment with that dream recorded in fiction by writers from Hamlin Garland to John Steinbeck were already in motion. Conrad Richter focuses his attention not on the corruption of the dream but on the dream itself. He belongs to that group of writers who are impressed with the strength and perseverance of the pioneer, and feel that this strength was a direct result of having dealt with the rigors of the frontier.

These writers see the West not as a symbol of man's dreams of a perfect existence but as a challenge which, if accepted, strengthens the character of man. For them the dream of the West is not one of a return to Eden, nor of a spiritual brotherhood of man. It is, rather, a vision of a land where men, if they are strong enough, can live in freedom and with a sense of accomplishment for having subdued the forces encountered in this great continent. Theirs is the literature neither of protest nor of disillusion. For them the dream was not an illusion because it was a sober dream. There were casualties, to be sure, but they accepted them as part of the price man has to pay for any adventure. And for the men and women who had the strength to survive, the rewards were substantial. (pp. 311-12)

Richter has had from his youth an attraction for the vigor of American pioneers…. He mourned the passing of the frontier because he felt that with its passing this quality of vigor would pass too…. Conrad Richter's greatest contribution to American letters is his tireless effort to put into fiction the setting and the people of an important moment in our nation's history. In the best of his novels and stories that moment lives again. (p. 312)

His first stories gave evidence that he would never write "crowded" works and that he was a good story teller, at least insofar as he wasted few words in presenting any situation. What is not clearly evident in these early stories, but what is an important aspect of all of his thinking, is his nostalgia for his ancestors and his own youth, and with this, a nostalgia for America's past…. Through story and research he uncovered in the American past a breed of giants that satisfied his deep desire for an image of man as hard working and persevering, as a force which triumphed over adversity. (pp. 312-13)

In the work of Conrad Richter, choosing the more difficult way always leads to success….

Conrad Richter has never written a novel which does not have as one of its themes the American pioneer's struggle and resultant strength. But the place where this theme is his central and abiding concern is his trilogy. (p. 313)

On one level the trilogy is a realistic account of the settlement of the Ohio valley. Everything from household utensils to manners of speech has been conscientiously recorded by Richter. On another level the story is one more chapter in man's endless struggle with the forces of nature. (pp. 313-14)

In The Fields … Richter continues some of the techniques he used in The Trees to insure the faithfulness of his portrait of the early settlers. The language he writes in is the language his research revealed as spoken by these pioneers. Other elements of their lives which he includes to advantage are the prevalent folk tales, folk myths, and superstitions. As the action progresses from the primitive world of The Trees to the more complex world of The Town the language becomes more sophisticated and the superstitions begin to disappear. These details thus further help him in his effort to portray the many changes that occurred in the Ohio valley over the period covered in the trilogy.

In The Fields agrarian concerns are predominant. New settlers move in and the nucleus of a small community is formed. While the fierce individualism of the hunter is no longer in evidence, the people who stay and settle retain enough of their will for self-government to make the rude democracy which operates in such a community extremely vital…. In the course of time the dark woods are replaced by the first faint lights of spirit and intellect. (pp. 314-15)

In [The Town] the portrait of the great pioneer heroine Sayward is completed, but here she shares the protagonist's role with her youngest son Chancey; he is the spokesman for "modern" social thinking, she for the pioneer's views. This contrast between two ways of life, one soft and the other hard, forms the core of the novel, and it gives Richter a chance to state clearly his views on both ways—he leaves no room for doubt as to where he stands. As the trilogy nears its end one thing becomes very clear: the pioneer's way was a hard way. Faced with the problem of survival in a hostile environment, he either met the challenge or perished. Most of our vaunted American practicality (and some of our materialism and anti-intellectualism too) was developed in this life or death contest.

Richter's trilogy is a paean of praise for the American pioneer spirit. In The Town the gospel of hard work is preached relentlessly…. The folks who didn't want to do anything on the American frontier perished. Chancey, standing at his mother's deathbed at the end of The Town, is just beginning to realize the sense of his mother's way of life. There is a dignity that hard work gives to a human being, no matter what the task at hand. (p. 315)

Conrad Richter's West is not the romantic, idealized West of some authors, nor is it the harsh, drought-ridden West of others. It had something of value to be won from it, and the key was hard work. (p. 316)