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rarchar's review against another edition
5.0
If I could convey the amazingness of this novel in words, I'd try. Unfortunately, I don't think I possibly could. This book is one of my top three favorites, among East of Eden & Sometimes a Great Notion. Just amazing.
espbear's review
adventurous
emotional
funny
hopeful
inspiring
reflective
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
4.5
8.30.22
I began reading this book in remembrance of Liam Wood who passed away during the 1998 Olympic Pipeline explosion in Bellingham, Washington. In 2018, I was doing a research project on the explosion, and read multiple articles in which friends and family remembered him, and occasionally people made mention that this was his favorite book. I decided to read it as result of those articles, despite being a vegetarian, and not being particularly interested in fishing whatsoever. This book was so good I set it aside and chose not to finish because I didn't want to have read its ending for the first time. I wanted to linger in a place of continuing to read it, and not knowing quite how it would end. Today I finished reading the book for the first time. It made me laugh out loud, and at times it made me cry. I highly recommend it. It's unlike anything I've ever read before. It wraps up nicely. I appreciate the tone of Gus' inner monologue; in some respects it reminds me of the Catcher in the Rye, but I would say it's better for the ending. It's a book that made me wish I could meet the whole cast of characters, and befriend them all. I really enjoyed various themes throughout the book: the environment, love, coming to terms with who your family is, value of friendship, etc.
As a parting note, I docked the book a half star because at some point David James Duncan was writing as though it was Gus' perspective as though there were no Indigenous people in the area anymore. I think that accurately reflects the way a white author would have written at the time. There was also some weird appropriative Native American elements relating to myths, but I believe that part was done respectfully.
I began reading this book in remembrance of Liam Wood who passed away during the 1998 Olympic Pipeline explosion in Bellingham, Washington. In 2018, I was doing a research project on the explosion, and read multiple articles in which friends and family remembered him, and occasionally people made mention that this was his favorite book. I decided to read it as result of those articles, despite being a vegetarian, and not being particularly interested in fishing whatsoever. This book was so good I set it aside and chose not to finish because I didn't want to have read its ending for the first time. I wanted to linger in a place of continuing to read it, and not knowing quite how it would end. Today I finished reading the book for the first time. It made me laugh out loud, and at times it made me cry. I highly recommend it. It's unlike anything I've ever read before. It wraps up nicely. I appreciate the tone of Gus' inner monologue; in some respects it reminds me of the Catcher in the Rye, but I would say it's better for the ending. It's a book that made me wish I could meet the whole cast of characters, and befriend them all. I really enjoyed various themes throughout the book: the environment, love, coming to terms with who your family is, value of friendship, etc.
As a parting note, I docked the book a half star because at some point David James Duncan was writing as though it was Gus' perspective as though there were no Indigenous people in the area anymore. I think that accurately reflects the way a white author would have written at the time. There was also some weird appropriative Native American elements relating to myths, but I believe that part was done respectfully.
ajnovy's review against another edition
5.0
Just an amazing book. Amazing writing. Beautiful!
The ending is phenomenal.
I was loaned this book by my high school English teacher and asked to orally summarize my thoughts to get from a B- to a B+. In my 17 year old self, this seemed like the easiest thing in the world and I had somehow finagled the best deal. After reading it and thinking, “Whoah, my 17 year old brain can’t handle this, I need to revisit in 5-10 years”, it was clear to me even at that time, that I had been hooked (pun fully intended).
Well here I am almost 20 years later. Absolutely breathtaking.
Humorous, thoughtful, insightful, philosophical, theological...and did I mention humorous?
When people are kids their parents teach them all sorts of stuff, some of it true and useful, some of it absurd hogwash (example of former: don't crap your pants; example of latter: Columbus discovered America). This is why puberty happens. The purpose of puberty is to shoot an innocent and gullible child full of nasty glandular secretions that manifest in the mind as confusion, in the innards as horniness, upon the skin as pimples, and on the tongue as cocksure venomous disbelief in every piece of information, true or false, gleaned from one's parents since infancy. The net result is a few years of familial hell culminating in the child's exodus from the parental nest, sooner or later followed by a peace treaty and the emergence of the postpubescent as an autonomous, free-thinking human being who knows that Columbus only trespassed on an island inhabited by our lost and distant Indian relatives, but who also knows not to crap his pants.
the thing i found offensive, the thing i hated about mohican-mountain-makers, gill-netters, poachers, whalehunters, strip-miners, herbicide-spewers, dam-erectors, nuclear-reactor-builders or anyone who lusted after flesh, meat, mineral, tree, pelt and dollar - including, first and foremost, myself - was the smug ingratitude, the attitude that assumed the world and its creatures owed us everything we could catch, shoot, tear out, alter, plunder, devour...and we owed the world nothing in return.
A native is a man or creature or plant indigenous to a limited geographical area - a space boundaried and defined by mountains, rivers, or coastline (not by latitudes, longitudes, or state and county lines), with its own peculiar mixture of weeds, trees, bugs, birds, flowers, streams, hills, rocks, and critters (including people), its own nuances of rain, wind, and seasonal change. Native intelligence develops through an unspoken or soft spoken relationship with these interwoven things: it evolves as the native involves himself in his region. A non-native awakes in the morning in a body in a bed in a room in a building on a street in a county in a state in a nation. A native awakes in the in the center of a little cosmos - or a big one, if his intelligence is vast - and he wears this cosmos like a robe, senses the barely perceptible shiftings, migrations, moods, and machinations of its creatures, its growing green things, its earth and sky. Native intelligence is what Huck Finn had rafting the Mississippi, what Thoreau had by his pond, what Kerouac had in Desolation Lookout and lost entirely the instant he caught a whiff of any city. But some have it in cities - like the Artful Dodger, picking his way through a crowd of London pockets; like Mother Teresa in the Calcutta slums. Sissy Hankshaw had it on freeways, Woody Guthrie in crowds of fruit pickers, Ghandi in jails. Almost everybody has a dab of it wherever he or she feels most at home..
The ending is phenomenal.
I was loaned this book by my high school English teacher and asked to orally summarize my thoughts to get from a B- to a B+. In my 17 year old self, this seemed like the easiest thing in the world and I had somehow finagled the best deal. After reading it and thinking, “Whoah, my 17 year old brain can’t handle this, I need to revisit in 5-10 years”, it was clear to me even at that time, that I had been hooked (pun fully intended).
Well here I am almost 20 years later. Absolutely breathtaking.
Humorous, thoughtful, insightful, philosophical, theological...and did I mention humorous?
When people are kids their parents teach them all sorts of stuff, some of it true and useful, some of it absurd hogwash (example of former: don't crap your pants; example of latter: Columbus discovered America). This is why puberty happens. The purpose of puberty is to shoot an innocent and gullible child full of nasty glandular secretions that manifest in the mind as confusion, in the innards as horniness, upon the skin as pimples, and on the tongue as cocksure venomous disbelief in every piece of information, true or false, gleaned from one's parents since infancy. The net result is a few years of familial hell culminating in the child's exodus from the parental nest, sooner or later followed by a peace treaty and the emergence of the postpubescent as an autonomous, free-thinking human being who knows that Columbus only trespassed on an island inhabited by our lost and distant Indian relatives, but who also knows not to crap his pants.
the thing i found offensive, the thing i hated about mohican-mountain-makers, gill-netters, poachers, whalehunters, strip-miners, herbicide-spewers, dam-erectors, nuclear-reactor-builders or anyone who lusted after flesh, meat, mineral, tree, pelt and dollar - including, first and foremost, myself - was the smug ingratitude, the attitude that assumed the world and its creatures owed us everything we could catch, shoot, tear out, alter, plunder, devour...and we owed the world nothing in return.
A native is a man or creature or plant indigenous to a limited geographical area - a space boundaried and defined by mountains, rivers, or coastline (not by latitudes, longitudes, or state and county lines), with its own peculiar mixture of weeds, trees, bugs, birds, flowers, streams, hills, rocks, and critters (including people), its own nuances of rain, wind, and seasonal change. Native intelligence develops through an unspoken or soft spoken relationship with these interwoven things: it evolves as the native involves himself in his region. A non-native awakes in the morning in a body in a bed in a room in a building on a street in a county in a state in a nation. A native awakes in the in the center of a little cosmos - or a big one, if his intelligence is vast - and he wears this cosmos like a robe, senses the barely perceptible shiftings, migrations, moods, and machinations of its creatures, its growing green things, its earth and sky. Native intelligence is what Huck Finn had rafting the Mississippi, what Thoreau had by his pond, what Kerouac had in Desolation Lookout and lost entirely the instant he caught a whiff of any city. But some have it in cities - like the Artful Dodger, picking his way through a crowd of London pockets; like Mother Teresa in the Calcutta slums. Sissy Hankshaw had it on freeways, Woody Guthrie in crowds of fruit pickers, Ghandi in jails. Almost everybody has a dab of it wherever he or she feels most at home..
nilarcana's review
challenging
emotional
funny
inspiring
reflective
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? Yes
5.0
barkshark's review against another edition
funny
hopeful
inspiring
reflective
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
4.25
rhughes7's review
reflective
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
3.75
A decent book, but I noticed that the part I liked most was the ending, when the novel becomes more of a philosophical essay through Gus’s mouth. I think this indicates that I like Duncan’s nonfiction essays better than his fiction!
chamberk's review against another edition
4.0
I don't fish, so maybe this wasn't the best book for me. But it was quite good, and quite funny. Not as stellar as his other book - Brothers K - but leisurely and enjoyable.
michaelculbert's review against another edition
lighthearted
reflective
relaxing
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
4.0
acymbalski's review against another edition
emotional
reflective
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? It's complicated
- Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
5.0
falconerreader's review against another edition
5.0
This is my favorite book.
Okay, I read it when I was 18, and it's a coming of age story. If I discovered it today, it might not have the same impact. Also, as a native Oregonian, I loved recognizing my home in these pages. I'm a sucker for quotes, and Duncan gives us several with each chapter. It starts out with a lot of boisterous humor and becomes increasingly philosophical, perfect for a reader like myself who might be frightened off by too much philosophy right up front. And then there's the love story...
My copy of this book, bought in Annie Bloom's bookstore in Multnomah Village the summer after high school, is now held together with a rubber band. It's been to Vermont, to Japan, to Denmark, and to Latvia. (I didn't get to accompany it to Japan, but I understand it was read by several people while there.) There may be a good argument for Duncan's The Brothers K being a better book, but Gus and his friends and family will always have my heart.
Okay, I read it when I was 18, and it's a coming of age story. If I discovered it today, it might not have the same impact. Also, as a native Oregonian, I loved recognizing my home in these pages. I'm a sucker for quotes, and Duncan gives us several with each chapter. It starts out with a lot of boisterous humor and becomes increasingly philosophical, perfect for a reader like myself who might be frightened off by too much philosophy right up front. And then there's the love story...
My copy of this book, bought in Annie Bloom's bookstore in Multnomah Village the summer after high school, is now held together with a rubber band. It's been to Vermont, to Japan, to Denmark, and to Latvia. (I didn't get to accompany it to Japan, but I understand it was read by several people while there.) There may be a good argument for Duncan's The Brothers K being a better book, but Gus and his friends and family will always have my heart.