A Year in Reading

In the past, I have erred in not writing down the books I’ve read. For 2013, that has to change.

While this year also included rereading The Rise of Theodore Roosevelt and Edmund Morris’ two subsequent volumes (Theodore Rex and Colonel Roosevelt), I burrowed through a number of volumes in 2013. When I first attacked Howard Norman’s tale of early 20th century Newfoundland, I had no idea I would wind up in Atlantic Canada (albeit not in Newfoundland). Nor would I know how much visiting the Atchafalaya Swamp meant to Nancy till I read a tale of its past inhabitants.

With apologies to Robert Burns and Bob Dylan, my heart was still in the highlands, with most of my reading concentrated it tales of the Mountain West. Still, I tried to spread my reading across many geographies, from the swamp to the Texas Hill Country to post-apocalyptic Colorado. My reading time will end much as it began - focused on Theodore Roosevelt in Doris Kearns Goodwin's The Bully Pulpit.

The Bird Artist, Howard Norman
Fabian Vas, a bird illustrator in isolated Witless Bay, who kills the lighthouse keeper for myriad reasons. Vas goes through an arranged marriage and the pasts of his parents while trying to establish himself as a bird artist. The Newfoundland coast practically leaps off the page.

Fun with Problems, Robert Stone
 A solid collection of disparate short stories, from rabble-rousers on Massachusetts islands to desperate men longing for their old wives. From the Lowlands is a great tale of comeuppance for an unsavory rich man who acts as though he exists above man and nature (spoiler: he doesn’t).

Empire of Shadows: The Epic Story of Yellowstone, George Black
Black doesn’t just focus on the park, but the mountain men who roamed the West in the early 19th century, the boom towns that sprung up around Montana and the deadly battles with local Indian tribes. Through it all, the world’s first national park was created. The narrative labors at points. But the story of how Lewis & Clark missed the park’s wonders and the various parties that would eventually reach the wondrous headwaters of the Yellowstone River deserves an airing.

Wild, Cheryl Strayed
I might not be the intended audience for Strayed’s journey up the Pacific Crest Trail, past some of the most dangerous terrain and loneliest peaks in the Lower 48. Were my life to fall apart, I could see myself stumbling through the wilderness of the High Sierras and stopping at the one-stop towns between the Mohave Desert and the Columbia River.

Joyland, Stephen King
Perhaps the best King tale in a long time, Joyland follows a New Hampshire college through his summer job at a regional amusement park on the Carolina coast. As usual, the human beings are much scarier than the ghosts that haunt the park. King’s shorter works possess a punchiness sometimes lost in his 1,000-page epics. Joyland sparkled with King's crisp characters and well-laid plot twists.

Travels with Charly, John Steinbeck
Three years ago, I failed to finish this book, tripping before Steinbeck looped back to Texas. For the rest of my life, I will return to the master’s travelogue every year or so. I could care less about the fact-checking issues that surrounds many of his characters. Steinbeck has insights into the different regions of our country. Plus, his encounters in northern Maine and with coyotes in the California desert won’t be soon forgotten. When traveling through Maine, Steinbeck seemed more on the money than I initially expect. On the plus side, Nancy and I didn’t get lost on the way to Deer Isle. We did get a similar flavor for Mainers that Steinbeck did.

 Paths to Power, Robert Caro
Even at 18 months, Lyndon Johnson sported the same wise, shit-eating grin he frequently wore in the Senate and the Oval Office. But the son of dirt-poor Hill Country farmers would rise rapidly in American politics, winning a Congressional seat and building the first statewide political operation in Texas. Expertly written, Caro ties Johnson’s tenacity with the rough land that birthed him, and how his unusual political skills built armies of supporters and foes. This first-class biography has me anxious to tackle Passage of Power, Caro's fourth volume, which tackles the vice-presidency and Kennedy assassination.

The Dog Stars, Peter Heller
 Unknowingly I was actually familiar with Heller’s writing. My friend Wade had loaned me Hell or High Water, Heller’s account of an extreme kayaking journey through the nearly impenetrable Tsang Po gorge in Tibet. Here he tackles a post-apocalyptic Colorado, where two men live somewhat comfortably while defending their homestead against the bands of desperate, murderous survivors who roam the remnants. Hig, our protagonist, cannot shake the voice he heard on the radio broadcasting from Grand Junction, and has to cross the Rockies in his plan to scout for survivors like him. Told in the first person, it doesn’t equal The Road, but serves an interesting look at how life might endure after society’s collapse. In the Loyal Mountains by Rick Bass Another set of beautiful prose by Bass that bounces between his home in Yaak, Montana and the Gulf Coast. His characters jump off the page in a few paragraphs and his landscapes come alive.

The Stench of Honolulu Essential, Jack Handey
Handey’s book has the slimmest of plots and in many of the short chapters. For the most part, it plays out like one Deep Thought after another. Handey reenvisioned Honolulu as a cesspit and embarks on a treasure hunt. There’s rarely a paragraph lacking hilarity. Those who come seeking an intricate plot will be disappointed, so just enjoy the laughs.

The End of Night: Searching for Natural Darkness in an Age of Artificial Light, Paul Bogard 
Bogard ‘s book is required reading for those of us tired of garish city lights blotting out all but a handful of stars. He goes from the darkness of rural Nevada to the brightest place on Earth (Las Vegas) to sneaking into Walden Pond, now surrounded by a suburban haze. Anyone who misses dark nights or has never experienced the Milky Way firsthand needs to read this volume to understand why well-lit places do not mean less crime.

Atchafalaya Houseboat, Gwen Roland
For several years, the author and her boyfriend (I’m never totally sure but I think that’s the case) built a house on an old barge and lived off the land deep in the Atchafalaya waterways. The immense bayou becomes more than a humid land of snakes and alligators. It’s a land of unique characters, spirited ghosts, lush wildlife and few trappings of civilization.