The John McPhee Reader (John McPhee Reader, #1) By John McPhee
I heard about John McPhee from new friend who was gobsmacked I didn't know who he was. This reader is a collection of writings from several books McPhee wrote. He's a master of non-fiction storytelling, draws you in to sit/stand/walk/paddle/ride next to him. His writing gives you the impression he's a master observer, that he never disturbs a scene or spooks a subject, always catching them in the truest light. Looking forward to reading more. 416 Loved the creative non-fiction masterclass in McPhee’s “Searching for Marvin Gardens,” essay and some of the more sobering profiles, like the implications of nuclear technology in the future (The Curve of Binding Energy), down to the day to day life of a sort of savant-yokel-priestess that eats roadkill for sustenance in the name of conservation and ecological praxis (Travels In Georgia).
Didn’t really care for the sections borne out of his northeastern ivy league boarding school lens, so I skimmed the sections of his more biographical writing, and was far more interested in his way of seeing issues and topics far out of his element (in terms of class and scholastic background, especially) 416 John McPhee is a renaissance man. Basketball, tennis, oranges, hydrogen bombs, bark canoes, dams, wingless flying vehicle, medieval relics and the people playing, growing, inventing, flying, building, studying and opposing them are his subject matter. He writes with depth, flair and humor. And the reader comes away with amazing understanding of his subjects.
This is a collection of excerpts from McPhee's first 12 books, edited and introduced by William Howarth. The collection was published in 1976. Bill Bradley went on to be US Senator and I suspect the orange industry in Florida has changed. So far we haven't tried space flight powered by hydrogen bombs. The story of McPhee visiting the World Trade Center in the early 70's with a physicist, who explains how the building could be brought down by a small, easily-assembled nuclear bomb was horrifyingly eerie.
I had to trudge through some of these and others were amazing.
416 It's probably a cliche to say that John McPhee is a writer's writer, but that's only because he never seems to have the same acclaim among more casual readers. And, as this collection shows, that's a damn shame.
The first John McPhee reader is a well-edited collection showcasing selections from his first dozen books and cover everything from the cultivation and selling of fruit (Oranges), an in-depth profile of two tennis stars (Levels of the Game), the quirky scientists who design and built atomic bombs (The Curve of Binding Energy), the head of the Metropolitan Museum of Art (A Roomful of Hovings) and more. Taken as a whole, it's nothing short of stunning that McPhee is able to cover to much ground and do it all so well; he feels equally at home going into scientific workings of nuclear propulsion as he does writing about basketball.
Of course, as anybody who's read McPhee before knows, the core of this book is based around two kinds of writing: writing about people and writing about nature. And in the book's strongest sections, McPhee does both. The excerpt from Encounters with the Archdruid is so detailed, you feel not only like you're riding in a canoe down the Colorado River, but that you know both Floyd Dominy and David Brower, are party to their fighting and know it's because they're both equally passionate about their work.
But that's only one section. His trip in a birchbark canoe is just as good, as a working vacation to a Scottish island. It's all good, and like the best anthologies, it made me want to pick up each individual volume. Highly recommended. 416 This is as good of an introduction to McPhee's body of work as any... Certainly there are some topics that will interest the reader more than others (for this soul, those offerings would include Georgia, Atlantic City, the Pine Barrens and Arthur Ashe), so it doesn't really serve as a book per se.
Editor William L Howarth provides quality overviews at the beginning of each excerpt. However, I'd skip the intro, which is just too flowery and long-winded. 416
I first started reading John McPhee's essays when they would show up from time to time in the New Yorker. The words stuck, the ideas taught, and the subjects delighted. Having a large collection of his essays in one place is great. 416 McPhee is ideal for readers who have outgrown Hunter S. Thompson and seen through Tom Wolfe. He is sometimes dragooned into the ranks of the ‘New Journalists’ - wrongly. Unusual for an American writer, McPhee is so self-effacing you wonder whether his shoes even leave footprints. He seems capable of injecting almost subject - canoes, sports, nuclear physics, oranges - with interest, and he writes with an unflashy, quietly stylish grace. This is a collection of excerpts from McPhee’s first twelve books and is perhaps the best introduction to his oeuvre. I rather envy anyone coming to it for the first time. 416 I realize that giving five stars to a reader is sort of like saying that some band's greatest hits album is your favorite CD. That said, I think that John McPhee is one of the two best American reporters (along with Studs Terkel) and that this collection does a great job of providing an introduction to his work. 416 Most readers have a favorite author, and mine is probably John McPhee. A writer of non-fiction, he takes delight in exploring unconventional aspects of our society, presented through colorful individuals and described in crisp and scintillating language.
This book is a sampler, containing excerpts from a dozen books, an admirable introduction for anyone new to McPhee's style. Collections like this are often disjointed and fragmentary, but not here: each section stands on its own, each is a minor masterpiece, each tells a story, and the editor's introductory analysis of McPhee's style is masterful in its own way. First published in 1976, it is still in print, like other books by McPhee. He wrote many more after that--about Alaska, about the geology of the western US (three books, a bit heavy with geology jargon), about an ocean trip with the US merchant marine, also stories about bears in New Jersey, about attempts to contain the mighty Mississippi and lava flows on Iceland, and so forth, up to his recent Ransom of Russian Art, his twenty-third.
As the above list shows, McPhee's interests are rather wide-ranging. The books excerpted here touch on canoeing in Maine, on travels through the sparsely populated (yes!) center of New Jersey, and on dreamers or visionaries (pick your choice) who plan trips to the stars by controlled atomic explosions, and others who fly a craft that is a hybrid between an airplane and an airship.
All these sparkle with apt metaphors (Generally speaking, if I had a choice between hiking and peeling potatoes, I would peel the potatoes). And the descriptions are intimate and personal: all are based on first-hand experiences by McPhee, as he follows his subjects wherever they take him. I ought to admit here that his point of view is somewhat masculine, but there is more than enough in his writings to attract any reader.
He also has the gift of digging up unusual stories--e.g. in Oranges he tells practically all you might want about Florida's sunshine product. You not only learn the ins and outs of Indian River oranges (it's a lagoon, not a river), but also how Ossian B. Hart, later governor of the state, played his violin to an audience of alligators.
And he uncovers interesting characters, sometimes precociously so. McPhee's first book was an admiring portrayal of a talented basketball player he got to know during college years: Bill Bradley later became US senator from New Jersey and a serious contender for the US presidential nomination. Four years later he wrote an equally admiring book about a nearly unknown young Black tennis player from Richmond, Virginia, Arthur Ashe. And in Travels in Georgia, a wilderness adventure, he describes his meeting with Governor Jimmy Carter. All these are included here, as is an encounter between David Brouwer, head of the Sierra Club, and an opponent of Brouwer, a prominent pro-development westerner. Both were invited by McPhee to share a rafting trip down the Grand Canyon. And much, much more.
In each generation, only a handful of books endure and become part of the literary heritage handed down from generation to generation. It is too early to tell, but McPhee's writings may well end up in this class. A century hence, if anyone would like to understand the peculiar creativity that made twentieth century America the great country it is, he might well find the clearest answer in McPhee's true-to-life explorations.
416 A marvelous introduction to the depth and breadth of John McPhee, a journalist’s journalist, one of the finest living nonfiction writers. It is perhaps preferable to read these books in full, rather than the snippets that are presented here, but this is a great way to encounter McPhee for the first time, in this well-edited sampler of his greatest hits. I was familiar with a good number of these selections, but the book piqued my interest in several books of his that I haven’t read yet (particularly The Pine Barrens and A Roomful of Hovings and Other Profiles). Enthusiastically recommended, especially to would-be essayists and those with boundless curiosity about the known world. 416
The John McPhee Reader, first published in 1976, is comprised of selections from the author's first twelve books. In 1965, John McPhee published his first book, A Sense of Where You Are; a decade later, he had published eleven others. His fertility, his precision and grace as a stylist, his wit and uncanny brilliance in choosing subject matter, his crack storytelling skills have made him into one of our best writers: a journalist whom L.E. Sissman ranked with Liebling and Mencken, who Geoffrey Wolff said is bringing his work to levels that have no measurable limit, who has been called a master craftsman so many times that it is pointless to number them. The John McPhee Reader (John McPhee Reader, #1)