Customer Reviews

Confessions of a Barbarian: Selections from the Journals of Edward Abbey, 1951-1989

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First of all, I can't believe I haven't already written a review of this book, since it has long been one of my favorites. These journals are incredibly well-written; a lot of it reads as well as anything he ever had published. I have all but one of Ed's books ( the first one, Jonathan Troy, which is impossible to find unless you have in the neighborhood of $7,000 to spend on a rare copy ) and I count this as one of my top three. Ed was a real man, a genuine human being who was mad as hell about a lot of things worth being mad about, a dreamer and romantic, a Great Voice howling in the wilderness of a civilization gone stark raving mad. Plus he mentored a lot of folks, including me 21 years ago with his great book Desert Solitaire. We need Ed's voice now more than ever, and if he can't be here the rest of us will have to read ( and re-read and re-read!) his words to keep his vision alive.

Ever since I decided to try my hand at writing, I've been curious - more than curious really - driven, to determine what makes us write. I may not be any closer to understanding this after reading "Confessions", but I do know that the need to express oneself this way is shared by many. Edward Abbey was one of those afflicted with the need to write. And in addition to all his many public works, Abbey kept a series of journals.

And so now we have "Confessions of a Barbarian", a compendium of Abbey's journals, gracefully and affectionately edited by David Petersen.

Here is a very rare opportunity to see into the mind of (at least near) genius - a graphic picture of a life, captured from young adulthood to until Abbey's death at the age of 62. (I say "near genius" because how one measures genius is certainly varied. I don't believe that Abbey thought of himself as a genius, and heaven knows, I sure don't want to offend him - not even now!) Here was a life richly experienced, analyzed, self-criticized, and most of all, transcribed - on and on, until the "kows" finally came home.

Contrast this with my review of "One life at a time, please", where I accused Abbey of not being quite honest. I stand by that statement, but here, in "Confessions", at least one mask comes off. Instead of one merely critical of the external world, we finally see the man critical of himself. He did write to make a buck. He wrote for many reasons. The point here is that he wrote.

Call Abbey what you will - environmentalist, philanderer, curmudgeon - all true from time to time. But Abbey was a writer, first and foremost. That is the one thing you can say about him that always holds true. He couldn't stay married. He couldn't take adequate care of his children (a self-confession - of sorts). His vision of paradise, such as it was, was inconsistent and self-defeating. He had racist, and anarchistic tendencies. (How common to have them - forgive us all - but how rare to find them in print!) But always he wrote. He wrote to himself. He wrote to the world. He wrote at times when he should have been taking care of the problems he was writing about. Books, letters, articles, and of course this journal. Abbey had the heart of a writer. He was, as they say, driven.

Abbey's favorite place was the western frontier. That's where he wanted to be with all his heart. And it was his favorite writing topic. It was more than a place and subject matter. It was his obsession. The West taunted Abbey like a seductive, young woman. (And we all know now how Abbey was attracted to young women!) The West's rich colors, profound relief, and intense climate were like an addiction, and Abbey soon mainlined himself. But as far as I can tell, that is the one thing no one seriously tried to talk him out of.

The West is big - or was anyway. Big enough to fill a young man with big dreams. As Abbey matured, his public works were driven toward a single theme: to communicate the tragedy of the closing frontier - the end of dreams.

In "Confessions of a Barbarian", this loss of dreams is finally overshadowed by the loss of the dreamer himself. I literally wept when I read the postscript (which was somewhat embarassing for me, being in a public place). But I share a sense of pride and dignity, because even though I never met the man, I know him. I know him well enough to understand the loss that Petersen feels. Yes, I know it. I dare you to read "Confessions" and not love this man.

Confessions of a Barbarian is an inside look at the philosophy and ideas of one man. It also is a deep read into his ideas about women, love and lost relationships. The journals are well written and full of thought out prose, plays on words. It is excellent for any writer to read. Abbey uses many word plays and word games throughout the journals. He also philosophizes on life in general as well as his travels throughout his life. It was extremely interesting and well written.

This collection from Edward Abbey's journals pulls no punches. David Peterson should be praised for resisting the urge to censor Abbey's alternately brilliant, paranoid, suicidal, cynical, angry, loving, and often quotable journals. The man presented here is the real Abbey--defender of the American West, enemy of what he called the "techno-industrial state"--not an idealized version. It's a fascinating book if you've read some of his other works, to see another stage in the development of his novels and essays. This is a writer for whom the words flow freely, even effortlessly, onto the page. This book accomplishes, I think, what Abbey said was the reason he decided to write: "to entertain my friends and family, and to exasperate my enemies." Certainly Abbey had plenty of enemies, and plenty of admirers as well. I recommend these journals for anyone who loves Edward Abbey, but for the uninitiated, I would recommend "Desert Solitaire" (a classic in modern American literature) or "The Monkey Wrench Gang" (probably his best-known book).

This book hooked me into Edward Abbey. It is uncensored and honest. It is also amazingly wise and funny. I read it all the time.

The book is going to depend on what you wish to get from it. Getting to know cactus ed this close can dampen other works of his if you don't first read other titles.

A caricaturistic version of Edward Abbey is a familiar figure in the pantheon of environmentalism. His best work, DESERT SOLITAIRE (Ballantine Books, 1985)), and perhaps best known work, THE MONKEY-WRENCH GANG (Harper Perennial Modern Classics, 2006), inspired a generation of wilderness seekers and iconoclasts, spun off EarthFirst! and other direct-action environmental groups, and offered up a larger than life anti-hero, successful in spite of himself. The Abbey visible in his personal journals couldn't help but be far more complex, and these thoughtfully selected excerpts offer a daunting portrait. On the one hand the writer was a graduate in philosophy and passionate afficianado of classical music, powerfully drawn to the academy, a Fulbright scholar and sometime professor. On the other he was rebellious, prickly and explosive in social situations (four stormy marriages interlaced with innumerable affairs and dalliances), utterly dismissive of the eastern literary establishment ... and in perpetual anguish during the long years that the eastern literati ignored him. He was utterly devastated by the leukemia death of one wife -- thrown into a year-long depression -- despite the fact that they were separated and headed for divorce when the disease struck. He was often fearless, and yet abandoned her bedside in the last days, unable to face her suffering. Let's say he was a very conflicted individual. His most singular failure, in my view, was to rail against population growth and immigration (because it eased population pressure elsewhere), while fathering five children. (Hello? Ed? Did you skip sex-ed while you were studying Kant? There is a cause and effect thing going on here you seem to have missed.) This follows easily on the heels of his broader failure as a purported egalitarian/anarchist -- his unrelenting sexism: women seen as decoration, child care providers and sexual conquests. (It appears that his shaky self-esteem was salved by the attention of successively younger women -- not an unusual phenomenon, particularly among the celebrity set.) That said, his successes were powerful as well: a passion for wilderness, a dedication to his vision of an earth saved from total development and despoliation -- expressed in fiction and non-fiction -- with a wit and descriptive power that has underlain much of the success of late 20th century preservation and protection. It is hard to envision a more honest autobiography than a personal journal, and hardly common that such a record is maintained over so many years (from 1946 until twelve days before his death in 1989, though the early volumes were destroyed in a flood), and then made public. This is a revealing look at a singular and influential figure in our recent history. Cactus Ed, you were one hell of a piece of work.

This book is a nicely edited version of Ed Abbey's journals, and, as an Abbey fan, I found it very illuminating. Here we get to see Abbey as he sees himself instead of the Abbey the we see through his books. The men went through a lot and put himself through a lot, and it is very amazing to watch him mature through his writing from his early twenties until the weeks before his death at the age of 62. Highly recommended for anyone who wants to know more about how Abbey experienced his own life and writing in contrast to the persona developed as the cult hero of the Monkey Wrench Gang and Desert Solitaire.

This book is a must-read for all fans of Edward Abbey. Throughout his life, Abbey strove to write that one "great" book. He may have died believing that he had not accomplished that task. However, as it turns out, his life story is, in fact, his greatest "book".

Confessions of a Barbarian allows the reader to truly see the genesis of many of Abbey's stories and essays. His life, viewed here, becomes the canvas upon which his other writings are painted upon.