In "Legends of the Fall," the title piece and best of Jim Harrison's collection of three novellas—and it seems fair to rank them good, better and best—the usual way of combining intensity and breadth is discarded with engaging recklessness. In place of a single point of view and a restriction of time, place, number of scenes and characters, Mr. Harrison delivers, in 87 pages, a complete two-generation family saga….

The opening line establishes both the voice and the manner of the epic storyteller, who deals in great vistas and vast distances….

There are tragedies, accidental and inflicted, a vendetta against Tristan [the protagonist] by Irish mobsters, insanity—enough melodrama for a thousand-page novel. Yet in a novel, these events might seem too many and too much. In "Legends of the Fall," the steady, singing, epic voice assures and reassures us that we are hearing—as the title claims—legend, not reality. In compression, unexpectedly, lies credibility.

In "Revenge," where Mr. Harrison tries to expand dramatically upon events, he is less successful—although, like "Legends of the Fall," this story begins auspiciously: "You could not tell, if you were a bird descending (and there was a bird descending, a vulture), if the naked man was dead or alive." Here is one author who knows how to word an invitation. (p. 14)

The time span of the story, a tale of violence unleashed by [Cochran's] adulterous liaison with the wife of a Mexican gang lord, is only a couple of months, long enough for Cochran's recovery and revenge. But the complicated sequence of events that unfolds in this brief span … is difficult to make convincing. "Revenge" is readable and at times exciting, but about halfway through, the author is betrayed by his own recognition that his characters must be reduced to believable proportions. It was the right intuition, but what was needed for it to work was the resourceful art to be found in "The Man Who Gave Up His Name."

"Nordstrom had taken to dancing alone." Thus begins the story of a character more interesting, more individual, more imagined than Cochran, the protagonist of "Revenge." (pp. 14, 27)

Nordstrom, like Mr. Harrison's other two characters, is compelled to acts of violent revenge on his way to self-realization. But this time the offense is both plausible and preposterous, the sequence of revenge scenes surprising and colorful—almost, in fact, lighthearted. It is in "The Man Who Gave Up His Name" that Mr. Harrison comes closest to combining the traditional economy of the novella with the more comprehensive narrative that works so well for him in the title story. The result is a character more affecting, perhaps, than the others. Though this story may not have the flawless, controlled quality of the title piece, Nordstrom is by far the most sympathetic figure in these three absorbing novellas. (p. 27)