Coming into the Country

by John McPhee

Paperback, 1985

Call number

917.98/04/50924

Publication

New York: Bantam Books, 1985

Pages

417

Description

Coming into the Country is an unforgettable account of Alaska and Alaskans. It is a rich tapestry of vivid characters, observed landscapes, and descriptive narrative, in three principal segments that deal, respectively, with a total wilderness, with urban Alaska, and with life in the remoteness of the bush. Readers of McPhee's earlier books will not be unprepared for his surprising shifts of scene and ordering of events, brilliantly combined into an organic whole. In the course of this volume we are made acquainted with the lore and techniques of placer mining, the habits and legends of the barren-ground grizzly, the outlook of a young Athapaskan chief, and tales of the fortitude of settlers-ordinary people compelled by extraordinary dreams. Coming into the Country unites a vast region of America with one of America's notable literary craftsmen, singularly qualified to do justice to the scale and grandeur of the design.… (more)

Language

Original language

English

Original publication date

1977

Physical description

417 p.; 7.2 inches

ISBN

0553255274 / 9780553255270

User reviews

LibraryThing member TadAD
This is a fabulous book. Written in the mid-1970s, it recounts his experiences and adventures in Alaska, both at a personal level and as an observer of the struggles of a place that wasn't even 20 years old as the 50th state. It's full of history, colorful characters, discourses on wildlife and
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geography, and details of everyday life that he makes seem anything but mundane, especially to anyone from the lower 48.

It might be assumed that a book that, among other things, discusses current events from the 1970s would be terribly dated to a reader of today but that simply isn't the case. Yes, we know how the drive to move the capital away from Juneau turned out and we know at least some of the impact of the oil pipeline, but what makes this book so interesting are the mindsets of the people that he illustrates so well. McPhee has a real gift for presenting both sides of a conflict such that the reader can appreciate both, even when McPhee flat out tells you how he feels about it.

This is highly recommended: whether you simply want to learn more about Alaska or want to vicariously experience life hundreds of miles from the next human being where 20 below zero is considered shirt-sleeve weather.
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LibraryThing member Arctic-Stranger
A lot of people come to alaska for a week or two, interview several big wigs and famous names, then go home and write a book about it. McPhee spent more time here, and got under the surface. And he really listened, not just to the his subjects, but also to the people who surround his subjects.
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Coming to the Country is a dated today, but McPhee is a great writer, and this book is a decent introduction.
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LibraryThing member JBreedlove
Historical and 1970's Alaska comes alive through the eyes of different subjects that live and work in there. McPhee frames the book well and fills it colorfully with his writing.
LibraryThing member Oreillynsf
McPhee does a great job of intertwining Alaska history with the action and changes of the 1970s when the pipeline was being built to Prudhoe Bay. I admire his respect and acceptance of many types of people, and his appreciation for popular history as opposed to political history. If any place's
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history is the story of ordinary individuals, Alaska's is.

Mc Phee has a languid and conversational writing style that I always enjoy reading and this book is no exception. While the action of the 1970s is, for obvious reasons, dated, the fact that so many of the issues are still a part of Alaska, US and global current events speaks volumes.
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LibraryThing member LisaMaria_C
This book is about Alaska, at least circa 1976. Back then Alaska could boast a population of 400 thousand, of which 60 thousand were Native Americans. (As of 2011, Alaska's population had risen to 722,718.) Both then and now Anchorage boasted half the population. At the time Alaska became a state
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in 1959, the inhabitants hoped that would give them more control over their destiny--as McPhee explained, at the time only half of one percent of Alaska was in private hands--the rest was under federal control. After statehood, about ten percent of the land was bestowed on Indians by the Native Claims Settlement Act, and most of the rest designated to become national parks. As for what was left over, Alaska became a land caught between "the Sierra Club syndrome and the Dallas scenario." McPhee had a way of showing the tension between two ideals--development versus preserving wilderness.

McPhee does this primarily by treating you to a guided tour of the quirky inhabitants both human and wild (not that there seems much distinction between the two much of the time.) People in the bush, particularly in Upper Yukon, refer to their part of Alaska as "the country." Strangers appearing are "said to have come into the country." And few Alaskans he tells us about are natives, but once were those strangers. The title essay takes up well over half of the book and focuses on the people of the Upper Yukon and especially those around Eagle Town (largely white) and Eagle Village (largely Native American.) Most of the people he features are trappers or miners. And surrounding them are salmon, grayling, grizzly, moose--and what a friend of mine once told me is the Alaskan state bird--the mosquito. (McPhee tells how one time he slapped his leg and counted 17 dead mosquitoes on his palm).

In an interview of Sebastian Junger, author of The Perfect Storm, he said that John McPhee is "a god... he's a master of that detail... of explaining how things worked... of making the world an interesting place." Coming from one of my favorite authors, that was high-praise--as it turns out deserved. What I noted right away is that McPhee has style. It may not be to everyone's liking, but it's there. There's a rhythm to his prose, a way of writing shapely phrases, and a lyricism probably helped along by two-thirds of this book being written first person, present tense. He often bounces between stories and personalities in a very meandering way. There are at times these free-floating quotations, like a chorus, giving you different sides. So this above all is literary journalism. It's also good journalism. Not only in the sense that it's lively and informative, but even though McPhee makes no bones about having his own opinion: he's also fair. Other views get to be aired too. Sometimes eccentric, very idiosyncratic views, but not ones simply straw-men chosen to show up the ridiculousness of the disfavored side.

The book writes of a way of life more exotic to me, a Native New Yorker, than Beijing or Johannesburg. I find the lifestyle described more horrific than idyllic to be honest, not being one to rhapsodize nature--but it certainly was fascinating to read about in McPhee's hands. Even though this book is already decades old, I left feeling it I much better understood the state that's America's last frontier.
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LibraryThing member Your_local_coyote
McPhee is a master at shaping a narrative and giving everyone a balanced approach. He helps you understand more about "The Great Country" another translation of Alaska. He gives detailed descriptions of what it's like to live in the Bush and gives you a condensed history of the 49th state.
LibraryThing member joeydag
Some amazing writing from before 1980. One of the three parts is devoted to an effort to relocate the state capital which I guess came to naught as Juneau is still the capital. McPhee's command of geology and flora and fauna is amazing. There are so many portraits of the people he meets and the
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tales they tell. Near the end of the third section, for which the book is named, coming into the country describing life in the Yukon, McPhee describes one morning waiting to be picked up by usually punctual air pilots. He is in a geologic bowl many miles wide and it is mid summer so the sun never sets. He has no watch and can get no clue from the position of the sun. I got such a feeling of dislocation both in time and space. A big country going through big changes.
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LibraryThing member SeriousGrace
There is a little bit of all things Alaskan in Coming into the Country. To name a few: the trials and tribulations of traveling rivers via kayak, the must-know laws of sport fishing (for example, fishermen are prohibited from catching fish by anything but mouth. Who knew?), Juneau is two time zones
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away from Anchorage. There's more: McPhee details the nature of Grizzly bears, the techniques of placer mining, the bickering over the new location of the state capital, marriage and survival, and my favorite, the people of Alaska (transplant and not). The people you meet in Coming into the Country are phenomenal.
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LibraryThing member breic
McPhee travels through Alaska, profiling the many, diverse people he meets along the way. Parts of it are dated, especially the extended section discussing possibly relocating the state capital from Juneau. McPhee is a little too sympathetic with some people, especially the gold miners who
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completely destroy the countryside for very little money, and who behave almost like terrorists. I had to grit my teeth through these long sections. Overall, like everything McPhee has written, it is smooth and engaging. I don't know that it is insightful, but he certainly introduces us to interesting people.
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