Customer Reviews

The Bear in the Attic

5 star:		(12)
4 star:		(3)
3 star:		(3)
2 star:		(0)
1 star:		(0)

 

 

We've read with pleasure Patrick McManus' stories for more than twenty years and this may be his best collection, yet.

The story that supplies the book's title ranges through a veritable history of a small Idaho town affected by World War II before any of its content relates remotely to a bear or an attic. Some feel annoyance at such digressions; my view is that I choose to spend a bit of time in this story teller's company because he does not hurry, does not abridge any telling detail or elide a nanosecond's chuckle.

What is especially satisfying about this collection is its scope: a long, almost Homerian tale to begin the game; recollections of a youth well spent in snow caves and shooting; modern -- which is to say recent -- anecdotes involving recreational vehicles and psycho-palaver. Pat McManus, if he were a tenor, would have the range to sing all the voices of the Mikado, himself.

Many humorous essays do not invite the reader's return; a punchline lets the air out of the literary balloon. But I find myself picking up this book repeatedly because the writing makes me laugh. Each journey through an essay shines new light on an element of humor, of piquancy I had missed before. With Mr McManus, the joy really is in the journey, not in the destination (or punch line).

Okay first off, Ilove McManus' books and think he is great.
Secondly-This is a funny and interesting book. Though I have to say that this does not compare to previous books. It is less focused and in a different style. I got this for my father on Fathers' day. I picked it up to check it out too and we both didn't say anything like normal, bringing up funny things from the book and whatnot. This time after a while I brought up that it was different and he said he sure noticed. He said it was like it wasn't even him writing it. This isn't one of those laugh out loud during every page or every other page, keep smiling through the whole book things. This is sort of hard for me to read actually. I think Pat would be best off to go back to the format he made. This doesn't have any rythm to it when you read it, and Pat's normal books pretty much go by quick and have this great pace to them that makes them so enjoyable. Its like it reads itself normally. But not here, here you have to do the reading. I give it a 3 compared to other books. But as a McManus effort it is more like a 1. Though all his other books may have spoiled me on different styles of humor writing-Because they were so perfectly written. I suggest any of Pat's other books first, but if you are starved for more of Rancid and the gang I guess it is a decent book, but just be warned that this is changed around and I wouldn't shell out the hardback money twice either.

If you haven't yet discovered Patrick F. McManus, aka "Mr. Outdoors," THE BEAR IN THE ATTIC is a fine place to start. And you don't have to be a rugged outdoorsman to enjoy his tall tales of a lifetime of hunting, fishing, and camping.

McManus has hunted turkeys in Georgia, doves in Alabama, geese in Minnesota, grouse in Michigan, deer in Montana, elk in Colorado, chuckars in Idaho, pheasants in Oregon, and quail in Washington.

He writes about growing up poor in Blight, a little logging town in northern Idaho, and romping with his boyhood companions Retch Sweeney and Crazy Eddie Muldoon. He describes his wife Bun, who views his escapades with a jaundiced eye; his cousin Buck (only slightly smarter than celery); and his crotchety neighbor, the odiferous old woodsman Rancid Crabtree, who considers it a nuisance to take clothes off at night just to put them back on again in the morning.

Like Mark Twain's ROUGHING IT, in which Twain describes his six years of traveling the American West, in THE BEAR IN THE ATTIC McManus writes self-deprecatingly of his own ineptitude in the wilderness. The camp biscuits he cooks are so petrified that they will likely be found millennia from now in an archaeological dig. He seeks out the best fishing spots by consulting a fortune-teller and a crystal ball. He explains the delicate art of skittering, a concept with which all stream fishermen are familiar. And he describes the Toadus sumo, the celebrated wrestling toads of Blight County.

In Alaska's Kenai River, McManus catches a sixty-pound trout (there is a singular pleasure in doubling the size of a fish one hasn't caught), and in South America he goes fly-fishing for piranha (the stew made from piranha heads was sumptuous, with just a tiny bite to it).

In "The Last Honest Man," McManus tells of his buddy Parker Whitney, in whom he sadly discovered a monumental character flaw: "It's impossible for him to lie."

Creative lying is McManus' signature stock-in-trade. For example, in "The Time Machine" he gets into Melvin Futz's invention and travels to the 30th century. There he discovers that the lucky voyager can also travel backward in time to hunt the fearsome Tyrannosaurus rex.

"Sounds scary," I said. What kind of success rate do you have on T-rex hunts?" "Sixty percent." "That's fantastic!" "I think so," Luke said, "I go out with ten hunters and come back with six."

The 36 essays of THE BEAR IN THE ATTIC are funny with a capital "F." If these outrageous strories were adapted for the stage they would be performed at Zanies [a local Nashville night spot] in a Theatre of the (Comic) Absurd.

It's probably best to read this book in private; otherwise your uncontrolled outbursts of laughter may cause your friends to question your sanity.

Patrick F. McManus has written eleven collections of essays, four other books, and two plays. There are nearly two million copies of his books in print, including the bestselling They Shoot Canoes, Don't They?; The Night the Bear Ate Goombaw; and A Fine and Pleasant Misery. He divides his time between Spokane, Washington, and Idaho.

Patrick McManus is also the author of:
Deer On A Bicycle (2000)
Kid Camping From Aaaaiii! to Zip! (1999)
Into The Twilight, Endlessly Grousing (1997)
Never Cry, "Arp!!" (1997)
How I Got This Way (1994)
The Good Samaritan Strikes Again (1992)
Real Ponies Don't Go Oink! (1991)
The Night the Bear Ate Goombaw (1989)
Rubber Legs and White Tail-Hairs (1987)
The Grasshopper Trap (1985)
Never Sniff a Gift Fish (1981)
They Shoot Canoes, Don't They (1981)
A Fine And Pleasant Misery (1978)

Prepare for the kind of laugh that starts deep in your belly and lingers on the lips, distilling into residual chuckles that punctuate the silence of your armchair. Patrick McManus' new collection of essays, The Bear in the Attic, is that kind of book. McManus' humor is inspired by the forests and streams of his native Idaho, a world in which hunting and fishing are the sports of gods, and one doesn't look for finer entertainment anywhere else. Much of the author's wit derives from his mythic lack of success at these recreations. He bags so few deer that his hunting friends are convinced his presence on a hunt is bad luck.

McManus also updates old hunting and fishing jokes - lying about the size of your fish; the ways in which the old, sage hunter gets the neophyte to do all the work under the guise of "teaching" him; and the neophyte's hunt for the mythical sasquatch. But the old pro is at his best when he is spinning long, elaborate yarns with sophisticated twists that require the reader to follow carefully and put two and two together to get five or six.

His title story, "The Bear in the Attic," starts out with the apparent kidnapping of a young girl. Turns out the kidnapper is her grandfather (the author, of course). To entertain her, granddad promises to tell her about a bear in an attic. He begins with the story of how McManus' cowardly cousin goes AWOL from the U.S. Army by hiding in his parents' attic. He does so in collusion with his mother, though his father never knows a thing until the FBI raids the place and takes the young man off to lockup.

But what does all this have to do with a bear? McManus' granddaughter asks. The storyteller then spins off into the sequel in which his uncle brings home a bear cub. McManus' aunt thinks the pup is cute and adopts it. The bear cub calls her "Mawmaw." Eventually, the animal is opening the refrigerator himself, downing whole bags of dog food at one sitting and occupying the uncle's favorite chair. Pretty soon, the bear isn't so cute, but when he wants to hibernate in the attic, Mawmaw doesn't have the heart to refuse him. Is this just a funny story involving wildlife or a metaphor for child-rearing?

The reader will have to draw his own conclusions. McManus doesn't supply any more clues. If you go far enough back in the tradition of storytelling, the skillful liar - like Ulysses - is also the greatest storyteller. McManus freely admits that he stretches the truth to get a good tale.

Hunters and fishers learn the art of creative lying. After all, admitting that you caught only a small fish or clean missed that deer is just a little too dreary. McManus takes the campfire hyperbole to new levels of magic, and the reader is always the winner.

As a middle school reading teacher, with 35 years of experience, I can tell you that this is the one author I recommed for reluctant readers, especially boys. I discovered this author when our second son decided he didn't like to read. Well, he didn't read much but he loved Outdoor Life and the books by Mr. McManus.

I would encourage parents and teachers to read these books and find the attraction these will have on boys of middle school age.

ascott

west virginia

Hilarity typically ensues whenever one reads Patrick McManus.

For years, Inland Northwest author McManus has regaled readers to the point of hysterical laughter with his personal essays on hunting, fishing, growing up and life is general.
Titles include "Into the Twilight, Endlessly Grousing," "A Fine and Pleasant Misery" and "They Shoot Canoes, Don't They?"

McManus is perhaps the most famous nonfiction author from around these parts, and several of his stories have been made into hit one-man shows.

All these successes are deserved.

The stories are dangerous to read in seemingly innocuous settings, like the breakfast table (unless you like having milk spurt out your nose) or in class (unless you love it when your teacher glares at you for laughing and causing a disruption).

My favorite story is "The Sensuous Angler," in which McManus sort of flirts with the idea of adultery. ...P>Sure, "Bear" has some good chortles in it.

The title story is funny, if drawn out. "Culinary Magic" and "A Hunter's Breakfast" are both funny looks at the dining habits of McManus and his compatriots. There's a couple of "ha haw" moments in "As the Ear is Bent," as we hear some of the gems ol'Pat has given his long-suffering disciple, Newton, and in "The Time Machine."

Newcomers to McManus will probably find a lot to enjoy. But really, there's nothing here that we haven't seen in any of McManus' other books. And the freshness has begun to fade.

Hopefully, "Bear" is just representative of McManus' "off" days, and not a sign that the author is permanently slipping.

This book makes you laugh out loud even when you are having the bluest day. Good medicine for what ails you.

While the material presented in this audiobook is hilarious, the reader quality is sadly not up to the quality of previous McManus audiobooks. Unlike earlier books, it includes the entire text of the book itself.

The person who reads the book reads it with little of the feeling
exhibited in the original Durkin-Hayes Audiobooks, featuring the amazing George S. Irving, which many McManus fans have
become familiar. In my opinion, it is also not up to the general audio quality of the last book, into the Twilight, Endlessly Grousing, which was recorded by Terry Beaver. Still, the material is good, even if the recording is sub-Irving-standard.

Highly recommended for the outdoor fan, or for the general McManus fan, such as myself.

It has been several years since Pat McManus published a book of new stories. His recent books have been either anthologies combining the material from other books, or in one case, a how-to book on humor writing development.

This book is more of the same amazing stories you've grown to know and love from the mind of Patrick McManus, most of which were originally featured in the pages of Outdoor Life magazine. It includes more stories originating in "Blight," Idaho, of Rancid Crabtree, Crazy Eddie Muldoon, (and Mr. Muldoon) Mrs. Swisher, and a bear that hibernates in the attic.

Highly recommended for the outdoor fan, or for the general McManus fan, such as myself.

I ordered several of the Patrick F. McManus books for my oldest son and he thinks they are great. If you are looking for pure clean fun look no further!