Eight years ago, I shared my favorite Alaskan books and media. Many more pages have passed through my fingers since then and a glance at my Goodreads page shows 117 books read on my “Alaska” shelf. You’d think that after reading 117 books about one state I’d long have run out of all the good stuff and be left with unedited memoirs from your third cousin and trashy dime store novels. Alas, I’m pleased to share that has not been the case. It seems like every few months I mine a new title from a throwaway sentence in another book or post I come across online. Alaskan literature has held a special spot in my heart, the best of which continues to pull its strings and spring a longing for the land, the lifestyle, and its people. Below I share an addendum to my first post, what I consider to join the mantle of the very best of Alaskana literature.
A Land Gone Lonesome by Dan O’ Neill
O’ Neill tells the dynamic story of present versus the past, subsistence versus preservation, homesteader versus park service, set along the banks and creeks of the Yukon River, from Eagle to Circle. For over 50 years, a quiet war has waged throughout Alaska over how the land should be used. On one side are land managers like the park service, who see the Alaskan lifestyle as something of the past, something to display on an infographic at a musuem or managed site. This sits in stark contrast to those who still wish to go out, test their spirit and try their hand at living on the land and using the surrounding resources in the process. O’Neill does a great job of sharing various perspectives and the history that’s led to this point, where the extinction of a lifestyle is at stake.
This book is criminally underread. A collection of stories, the author shares experiences of his decades living in Fairbanks, as a late night taxi driver dealing with a cast of characters, substitute hunting guide in the Brooks Range, and his own trips hunting and traveling across the land. McCue captures the essence of Alaska and its people possibly better than anything else I’ve read. The book is also filled with interesting tidbits on biology, geology, and history sprinkled throughout.
The Sun is a Compass by Caroline Van Hemert
Caroline and her husband Ben take a 4000 mile human powered trip north through the inside passage, over the mountains in the Yukon to the Arctic Ocean, then across the Brooks Range. Throughout their ambitious and arduous journey, Caroline shares reflections on the land, their relationship, and desired lifestlye. If you’re anything like me, after reading this you’ll find yourself inspired and staring at maps, dreaming of your own big trip.
The Snow Child and To the Bright Edge of the World by Eowyn Ivey
In each of these novels, Ivey takes old stories from elsewhere and adopts them to Alaska. The Snow Child retells an old Russian folk tale adapted to early 20th century southcentral Alaska. To the Bright Edge of the World mixes a fictional account of the late 19th century Lt. Henry Allen Expedition up the Copper River into the Interior with Native Alaskan mythology. Both books kept me up late, eager to see what would come next. The mix of themes keeps things lively and makes for an enjoyable read.
The Handcrafted Life of Dick Proenneke by Monroe Robinson
Anyone who’s read my older posts know that I’m a big fan of anything realted to Dick Proenneke. Reading his journals fundamentally changed my life. This new book is a heavy mix of photos and journal entries with each chapter consisting of a singular theme detailing the handcrafted things he built and the ethos behind it. For anyone who has read his journals, there are familiar topics like building his cabin, cache, as well as his fireplace and chimney. Other sections go into depth on other fields, like his tin work and the wide ranging gifts he made for others. His skills remain an inspiration and a guiding light. Its hard not to admire someone who is able to thrive and make use of the limited materials they have at hand.
A Thousand Trails Home by Seth Kantner
Seth continues to write about the area he knows best, but this time through the lens of caribou. The book follows the caribou through four seasons on the land, sharing their journey north in the summer, then back south come winter. Interspersed throughout are Kantner’s own encounters, stories from others, perspectives on a changing land over decades, and even recipes.
Sound like some great books! Thanks!