Product Description
Preface FORTY years ago John Muir wrote to a friend; “I am hopelessly and forever a mountaineer …. Civilization and fever, and all the morbidness that has been hooted at roe, have not dimmed my glacial eyes, and I care to live only to entice people to look at Nature’s loveliness.” How gloriously he fulfilled the promise of his early manhood! Fame, all unbidden, wore a path to his dOOf, but he always remained a modest, unspoiled mountaineer. Kindred spirits, the gr… More >>
Corinne H. Smith
If you’re new to John Muir’s writings, please don’t start with this one. It’s a worthwhile read in its own right, don’t get me wrong. But read _My First Summer in the Sierra_ or a Muir biography like Michael P. Cohen’s _The Pathless Way_ before you move on to this one. Get a good dose of what the naturalist is like and learn some of his background, and then you’ll be in the proper frame of mind to tackle _Travels in Alaska_. Otherwise, this book is just one glacier after another. And bless his heart, Muir wants to see them all. And climb them and explore them and sketch them and hike their entire lengths and write about them ad nauseum. He leaves his companions in his wake and puts himself squarely in the face of isolated danger over and over again. Read this book first, and you’ll think he’s insane. Know his roots in Wisconsin and his good work in California, and you’ll be better able to appreciate what he thinks of and does in the Alaska of the late 1800s.
Rating: 3 / 5
Wesley L. Janssen
I confess up front, it’s been a few years since I read Muir’s Travels in Alaska. Yet significant aspects I remember well. Given Muir’s exuberance for life and almost everything he encounters in his travels, one almost looses view of Muir the botanist and geologist. But not quite. Here we find the author contemplating the activity of glaciers and documenting the flora of southeast Alaska. Muir (who tended strongly toward vegetarianism) gleefully entertaining himself by foiling duck hunters. Baffling the locals by happily wandering out into major storms.
The book is a journal of Muir’s 1879, 1880, and 1890 trips (he wouldn’t mind if we called them adventures) to SE Alaska’s glaciers, rivers, and temperate rain forests. He died while preparing this volume for publication.
I remind myself, and anyone reading this, that Muir isn’t for every reader. And, as other reviewers have stated, this may not be the volume in which to introduce oneself to the one-of-a-kind John Muir. One reviewer doesn’t think that Muir is entirely credible in these accounts. I won’t say whether or not this is wrong, but I tend to a different view. For some of us — and certainly for Muir — wilderness is a medicine, a spiritual tonic, so to speak. For the individual effected in this way, physical impediments and frailties rather dissolve away when he is alone in wildness. I once heard Graham Mackintosh (author of Into a Desert Place) speak of this. In all of his travels alone in the desert, he doesn’t recall having ever been sick. This may not sound credible to some, but I strongly suspect it is true.
If you like Muir’s writings, read this book. If you like the stuff of Best Sellers, perhaps you should look elsewhere.
Rating: 4 / 5
Michael Green
From the title, one would think this a type of travel journal, a panorama of episodes along the way, a sequence of stations between the starting off point and the destination. Instead, the overall weight of the book is given to glaciers, their descriptions, their influence on the landscape, their geological record, the discovery of new glaciers, and other characteristics of these moving rivers of ice. While Muir offers descriptive powers unequaled among authors on nature, never repeating himself though constantly repeating his subject, the sheer repetition tends to bog the work down. Two whole pages might contribute to our view of a particular glacier, and suddenly Muir reports that he’s finished a 200-mile leg of his journey on foot. He tells us when he’s climbed a glacier, and along the way we’ve missed an entire week. Time and space almost have no medium in this publication, utterly lost when gazing upon a glacier. For nature lovers who will never go to Alaska, the descriptions in this book make the ranges and glaciers come alive in print, but as a dramatic journey, a travelogue, or a field manual for the Alaskan bush, this book forms only a vague shadow.
Rating: 3 / 5
D. S. Thurlow
John Muir’s “Travels In Alaska” is his accouts of his trips to Southeast Alaska in 1879, 1880, and 1890. Southeast Alaska 125 years ago was sparsely settled and poorly explored; Muir’s adventurous spirit and enquiring mind led him to investigate the numerous inlets and glaciers in the area, including the magnificent and much-celebrated Glacier Bay.
Muir’s simple, muscular prose weaves a fascinating narrative out of descriptions of the people, wildlife, and geology he encounters on his journey, suffused with his endless sense of wonder at the landscapes in which he saw the hand of God. The reader can hardly help but be carried along by Muir’s enthusiasm. Muir’s descriptions may be most relevant to those traveling Southeast Alaska by cruise ship, for a sense of what the landscape looked like before the population reached today’s size and spread. Those not interested in the travel aspects of the book and in numerous descriptions of glaciers may find this book less interesting.
This book is highly recommended to fans of John Muir’s writings, and to those planning a trip through Southeast Alaska.
Rating: 4 / 5
Betty Richards
John Muir’s diaries and stories are enchanting – and especially welcome during my long, hot drives around Los Angeles this time of year! Just hearing narrator Lee Salibury talk about the glacier formations is refreshing – and the sound effects and music add so much to the ambience! The six hours of reading seem to FLY by, and make summer traffic bearable. HIGHLY RECOMMENDED!
Rating: 5 / 5