“Are people more important than the grizzly bear? Only from the point of view of some people.”

Edward Abbey (1927-1989) was an American author and essayist who passionately advocated for the environment. These famous lines from him imply that there is no clear answer to the conundrum of whether human lives matter more than animals. The “superiority” of humans, Abbey implies, is a matter of subjectivity. Box uses the quote as an epigraph for Part 2, illustrating the novel’s theme of The Dynamics Between Humans and Nature.

“Something primal had infected him—the very real possibility of being mauled and killed by a predator over twice his size and weight. A predator that had taken out a human much younger and fitter than he was.”

Joe’s feeling of dread after the grizzly killed Clay Jr. explains why shaking off the animal attack is so difficult for affected locals. Unlike visiting hunters or activists, the locals are in mortal danger of being ripped apart by a much bigger animal. The fear that strikes Joe is that of the smaller animal in the food chain, much like the fear of the doe that rushed into the water to evade the grizzly.

“Most of the theories concluded that humans weren’t as smart and all-knowing as they thought they were, that most biological scientists were quacks, that every good human intention in altering the balance of nature resulted in disastrous and unintended consequences, and that if ninety per cent of civilization was decimated by angry, wild animals, it’d be a good start.”

Highlighting the theme of the dynamics between humans and nature, Joe’s encapsulation of Nate’s beliefs also showcases Nate’s extremism. Further, the recap is laced with humor, gently parodying real-life advocates for any issue who get carried away by their own arguments. Nate’s contempt for humans proves to be foreshadowing, as people carry out ghastly actions in the novel.

“Johnson knew from experience that rodeo cowboys were always ready for another ride. And for that matter, they’d stay on for about eight seconds.”

Johnson’s thoughts are an example of the text’s use of irony. She notes that rodeo cowboys are always eager to have sex, but the sex itself is brief and mediocre. Johnson’s observation dismantles the notion of the virile cowboy while establishing that she is not as easily misled as Cates thinks. Instead, Johnson may well know that Cates is an ordinary man and may be putting up with him in the hope of improving her life.

“Although it was beautiful and fascinating, Joe knew how rough it was out there in the wild. Brutal, bloody, and completely ruthless. The circle of life, he knew, was amoral at best.”

While Nate may think that the predatory aspect of nature is superior and the Mama Bears believe that all animals are sentient and divine, Joe’s view may be more balanced. Joe believes that nature is neither good nor bad but focused on survival, through whatever means necessary. Understanding this fact is crucial for people to coexist safely with nature.

“Tisiphone is one of the most tragic stories you will ever hear, game warden. She is the embodiment of a mother whose entire world is destroyed by man. The incident was so horrible and violent that Tisiphone lost her mind, and she travels the earth exacting revenge against those who destroyed her family.”

Lynn Fowler, one of the Mama Bears, delivers this dramatic address to Joe, in what the text intends to be a gentle parody of certain animal rights activists who are cut off from the realities of both animals as well as working-class humans. Fowler projects human feelings onto a grizzly, making her the symbol of a mother’s universal grief. Her speech is filled with hyperbole, an example of which is the description of a bear as “travel[ing] the earth” to enact revenge. The name Tisiphone itself is from Greek myth and refers to one of the three furies who punishes the crime of murder.

“The action was furious and hard to follow through Joe’s scope. His red dot flashed across the glistening hide of the grizzly to Brodbeck’s flailing hands to the terrifying moment when the bear’s jaws engulfed Brodbeck’s head and shook him like a puppy playing with a sock. The man’s arms flailed and his legs retracted in the fetal position.”

The graphic description of Tisiphone’s attack on Brodbeck proves Joe’s observation that nature is amoral at best. Box uses the simile of a puppy playing with a sock to describe the casual way in which Tisiphone shakes Brodbeck, the comparison conveying the meaningless horror of the situation.

“The grizzly’s coat was thick and dusty, but its massive claws and gleaming teeth glowed in the pink light. The creature had been positioned to look like it was roaring and about to lunge at the viewer. It was huge and menacing, even while frozen in time. Cates felt a chill shiver up his back, since Zeus was the inspiration for getting the grizzly tattoo on his arms in the first place.”

The description of the mounted bear in the Hanna Museum conveys a sense of gothic horror, with the looming figure bathed in pink light. While the coat is dusty, the claws and teeth—the most dangerous parts of the bear—are described as gleaming. The contrast between the hide and the teeth underscores the sense of menace around the bear. However, the narrative then undoes the sense of menace with the phrase “frozen in time,” showing the reader that the bear is just a taxidermized creature. The horror arises not from a bear hunted and then fetishized by humans but from the human who plans to manipulate the bear into a killing machine. In other words, Cates, watching the bear, is the real horror.

“The wind howled across U.S. Highway 287 as Cates and Bobbi Johnson approached the town from the southeast. Tumbleweeds the size of medicine balls rolled across the asphalt and a massive dust devil descended from Green Mountain to the south, its tail tethered to the ground and its funnel top splayed open like an opened fan.”

Box uses imagery to convey his rural and small-town America settings. As Cates and Johnson drive into Jeffrey City, they note the vastness and desolation of the setting. While people are missing from the abandoned town, spooky elements like gigantic tumbleweeds and mini tornados have the run of the landscape.

“‘That poor guy,’ Cates said. ‘I forgot what he said his name was.’

‘What poor guy?’ Johnson asked.

‘Never mind.’”

As Cates hears the news of the discovery of the charred body of Marvin Bertignolli, the police marshal he killed, he casually lets slip that he forgot the name of the “poor guy.” Cates’s statement may make it appear as if he is regretting the murder, but the fact that he pointedly refuses to recall a name he just heard on the radio shows a disregard for Bertignolli’s death. Cates quickly pushes Bertignolli to the back of his mind and moves on, reflecting The Persistence of Evil and the Resilience of Good in the novel.

“Then Ogburn-Russell turned his attention from Cates to Johnson. ‘Who’s the fine-looking split-tail you brought along?’

Cates turned his head and grinned at Johnson. ‘He’s always had a way of charming the ladies, as you can see.’”

Johnson is often objectified by Cates’s associates. Here, LOR calls her by a fish’s name, a derogatory term for women. Cates trivializes LOR’s offensiveness by making a joke about it. Thus, Cates further undermines Johnson.

“Through breaks in the willows, she noted both modern multimillion-dollar second homes of newcomers in the meadows above the bottomland and ramshackle homesteads littered with rusted-out pickups and farm machinery that no doubt belonged to hardscrabble old-timers. Mountains framed the valley on three sides.

Again she thought, Just like home.”

One of the novel’s themes is the tension between classes in America, as highlighted by Sheridan’s observation of Colorado. Just like in Wyoming, newcomers—typically wealthy out-of-staters—have built lavish holiday homes on land bought from locals, while “old-timers” who persist in the area live more modestly. The contrast between the homes implies that newcomers enjoy the scenery and resources of the area but do little to improve the local economy for the old-timers. This leads to simmering class tensions that boil up in unexpected ways.

“She said, ‘Once I put my birds up, those starlings might all leave at once in a big black cloud. Or it may take a couple of days.’

‘That would be wonderful,’ Bottom said. Then, hugging himself, he said, ‘I knew it would work. I’m so brilliant.’

Which was what a man used to great wealth might say, she thought. He didn’t praise the plumber for unclogging his toilet or the electrician for getting his lights to work again. Instead, he praised himself for calling the plumber or electrician.”

Sheridan notes the irony in Bottom’s pompous claim: He thinks he’s a genius just because he thought of hiring someone to handle a problem on his estate. Bottom ignores the fact that it was Sheridan who did the actual thinking about how to solve the problem. Worse, Bottom does not even see the flaw in his thinking.

“As they entered the stand of trees, Joe could see the outline of a heavy teardrop-shaped form hanging from a crossbeam. The hunters had obviously dragged it to their camp from the creek with the ATV he’d observed, then hoisted it by its back legs into the air with a chain.

‘Is there some kind of reward or something?’ Lewis asked.

Joe put his hands on his hips and sighed. He studied the bear and recalled once again how much a hanging bear carcass resembled that of a heavily muscled man. Blood dripped from the red-stained teeth into a dark puddle on the pine needles below.”

This passage juxtaposes the triumph that the hunters experience at slaying the bear with the tragedy of her death. While the hunters wonder if there is a reward for hunting her, Joe contemplates the sow who was killed simply because she was mistaken for a grizzly. The graphic description of the sow’s body shows the harm that humans can wreak on animals, complicating the dynamics between humans and nature.

“But his tormentors—the people who had banded together to destroy him and his family and seize their property—were still out there. Those self-righteous, smug bastards. Something Brenda had once told him would forever stick in his mind. She’d said, ‘It don’t matter what you’ve done in your life. They will always think of us as white trash.’

The judge. The local sheriff. The county prosecutor. The game warden. That falconer and his wife. Winner came along later, but he was of the same mindset.”

Illustrating the theme of The Tensions Between Revenge and Justice, this passage shows how Cates is consumed with the idea of punishing those who he feels took away everything from him. The narrative also highlights how class tensions contribute to Cates’s negative feelings: He thinks that his way of life has been appropriated by people who will always deem his working-class roots inferior.

“‘Where did you come from, if I may ask?’

‘We’re from the Bay Area.’

Of course you are, Cates thought.

‘I bet your kids love it,’ he said.

‘We don’t have any children,’ Britney said. ‘Our llamas are my babies.’

Of course they are, he thought.

‘We’re so lucky Rob can work remotely,’ she said. ‘This way I can spend more time with my babies.’”

Bleakly humorous, this exchange between Cates and Britney illustrates the chasm between their lives. As Britney describes her move to Wyoming, Cates inwardly scoffs at Britney with the refrain “Of course you are.” To Cates, Britney is predictable, a type identified by her child-free lifestyle, her Californian roots, and her partner’s information-technology job. She may be proud of her life choices, but for Cates, they represent an appropriation of his home and values. Thus, he wants to punish them.

“‘Had to be done,’ Soledad said.

‘Twenty-two?’ Cates asked.

‘Double-taps’ […]

‘I wish you’d talk to me about these things,’ Cates said in a low rumble.

‘Like I said, it had to be done. You know that, too.’”

This exchange between Soledad and Cates adds another layer to the tensions between revenge and justice. While the llama-raising couple are not on either man’s “enemy” list, Soledad murders them anyway in cold blood because they are inconvenient. His insistence that it “had to be done” shows how dismissive the antagonists are of human life, reflecting the persistence of evil and the resilience of good.

“Carroll hesitated for a moment, then took a deep breath. ‘I’ll be honest,’ he said. ‘I wasn’t really patrolling. I was going to sneak out here and catch a couple of big trout out of Lake Joseph. I was hoping to get in and get out in time for the end of my shift.’

That brought a snigger from the town cop and a smile from the other deputy.

Joe said, ‘I assume you have a fishing license.’

Carroll’s face went pale, which Joe took as his answer.

‘We can worry about that later,’ Joe said. ‘Let’s retrace your steps when you found the judge.’”

Carroll’s dread in revealing to Joe that he was fishing without a license, and the accompanying laughs of the local police officers, is an allusion to Joe’s series-wide reputation for being a little too much of a stickler for rules. Carroll may be a hero, but the text humorously suggests that his heroism does not compensate for his act of unlicensed fishing.

“‘They should know we aren’t the product of our parents,’ Joe said […] ‘All these years we’ve done real well on our own, haven’t we? We’ve got your crazy mother, and now mine might have crawled out from under some rock in Colorado. But we’ve got three great girls and we’ve got each other. That’s pretty good, right?’

Tears filled her eyes. ‘Yes.’”

Joe explains to his wife that they “aren’t the product of [their] parents” and that they have a good life together despite the lack of closure he feels over his mother’s abandonment of him as a child. Joe’s ability to let the past go instead of dwelling on grievances makes him a foil to Cates, adding a subtle, domestic dimension to the text’s exploration of the tensions between revenge and justice.

“I’m not sure I can provide much help, to be honest. I don’t process crime scenes, Joe. I create them.”

Nate’s pithy statement when Joe asks him to accompany him to the golf course lightens the tension in the text. Simultaneously, it also foreshadows Nate’s return to a state of anarchy. By the end of the novel, Nate creates a crime scene by killing Cates and the others for their brutal murder of Liv.

“The bear crossed the road quickly and kept moving until it reentered the woods on the other side without slowing down.

Joe was astonished and confused. Was this the bear Dallas Cates had somehow recruited? It was a preposterous notion, he knew.

Then, like a ghost, another figure emerged from the dark timber where the bear had come out of. It was over six feet tall with blond hair pulled back in a ponytail.”

The reappearance of Tisiphone signifies the merging of the plotlines of the two bear attacks. It also shows the synergy between her and Nate, both wounded apex predators. suggesting that the dynamics between humans and nature have become blurred. Later, Nate will explain this communion by telling Joe that it was Tisiphone who led him to Joe’s compound.

“Marybeth had asked her board for a leave of absence while Kestrel settled into their lives. The little girl still wasn’t sure what had happened to her parents, and she looked expectantly at the outside door whenever it opened and she frequently asked for her mother. Marybeth put on a brave and cheerful face and she slipped easily back into the role of caretaker for small girls that she’d mastered dozens of years before.”

While the loss of Liv is irreparable, Marybeth knows that she has to provide Kestrel with the best life she can while Kestrel is with her. Thus, Marybeth adopts a cheerful front before the child. Marybeth’s courage illustrates the theme of The Persistence of Evil and the Resilience of Good.

“The story, whatever it was, was bound to be continued.”

Joe’s line is an allusion to unfinished business with Soledad and Bishop, as well as the never-ending nature of the tensions between revenge and justice. Another cycle of revenge has begun, with Nate hunting Soledad. The line is also a metatextual nod to the Joe Pickett series, suggesting that the story will be continued in another book.