Customer Reviews

The Survival of the Bark Canoe

5 star:		(4)
4 star:		(6)
3 star:		(1)
2 star:		(0)
1 star:		(0)

 

 

Typically, I hate it when people write books about really short trips that aren't very adventurous or eventful.
But this is John McPhee, and he can write about whatever he wants.
This book is about a guy obsessed with building bark canoes like the Indians did, about a camping trip in the Maine woods, and about travelling through the wilderness when the rest of the world's advancing further into civilization.
It's a good book on bark canoes, on canoeing in general, on Maine, on the history of fur trapping, on the idea of wilderness, on obsession, and on Thoreau.
It may make you want to build a canoe, and it will almost certainly make you want to go camping. It's worth it just for that.
The book is written in John McPhee's clear, simplistic prose, and always feels focused and well-paced. It's a good introduction to McPhee, and a good book, period.
You should read it.

A very enjoyable little book by McPhee, especially for those of us who enjoy his work, but can be overwhelmed (bored?) by his frequent choice of geology as his primary subject.
As usual with McPhee we learn a great deal about the technical subject at hand; here the building of authentic birchbark canoes, but even more about the tradecraft and personality of the person and type of person dedicated to the subject.
Like McPhee, I live in New Jersey and have hiked and camped in the Pine Barrens, and fished for and caught shad in the Delaware River, and perhaps understand a little of his wanderlust. McPhee mentions canoes in many of his other works, is clearly fond of and experienced with them, and can barely contain his excitement over getting authentic with a birchbark canoe.
As others have noted, his portrayal of Henri changes a bit as we move from "the yard" to the water. McPhee notes that Henri is an artist in both ability and temperament. This is an academic conclusion that is easy to come by while watching in the yard, but not without a little personal discomfort to realize in the field.
I often tell my kids that one of the most critical rules one must follow to get along with a group while on a team, on a trip, or even on a family vacation is to take care of your own stuff and do a little more than your share of the work.Henri violates this rule and complicates matters further when it is revealed that although he is the self appointed leader, the emperor has no clothes with regard to actually using the canoes.
There is a faint sense of attempting to, but not quite being able to experience that which is desired. Do the canoes actually work as well as imagined? Is the land as beautiful? What of Thoreau and his observations? Have we incrementally embraced technology because it is quicker and easier, or because it is better? It seems to me that McPhee asks this question in many contexts, and slyly shows all sides without taking one, reminding me of the also excellent book by McPhee "Encounters with the Archdruid".
Read the book to see how you answer these questions.

As a canoeist, handyman, and McPhee fan, I enjoyed this little book very much. Like the 5-11-2000 reviewer, I found it to come in two parts. The first part details technical details about birch-bark canoes and how Vaillancourt became a self-taught master of their construction. The second part describes a canoe trip with Vaillancourt and others.

That other reviewer found the second half to be parody of Vaillancourt, but I disagree. As in The Deltoid Pumpkin Seed, real life sometimes takes a turn that a dreamer would not expect. Like his other non-fiction, I felt that McPhee offered real insights to the peoples' character and doesn't hesitate to sing their praises nor describe their shortcomings.

I enjoy the copious background information that McPhee includes in all of his books. Even more than a Tracy Kidder book, you come away feeling like you have some in-depth understanding of the subject.

I read this book years ago and have even given a couple of copies away to friends! So I highly recommend this book and many of McPhee's other works. As to Henri Vaillincourt, the hero of the book; he would say don't believe everything you read in the book... He builds canoes still today, and very nice one at that. He even has a website that I will not list here. The true beauty of the book is first it recreates how to build a true Algonquin style canoe. Second it recreates Thoreau's "Maine Woods" trip. Lastly it shows a man, Henri with an interest that has became his passion for the last forty years or his life. If you ever drive up up New Hampshire Route 31 you can see his works of art in progress on the side of the road. I also recommend Thoreau's The Maine Woods as a companion book to this one!

John McFee has crafted an elegant essay that juxtaposes the lost native art and craft of canoe making with the psyche and only too human angst of an endangered species; a man who embraces the non-technical world.

This is the second of many of McPhee's books that I have read. He is a very good writer. His detailed information about the suject of his books is amazing. But the way he interlaces information about the people and places he has met & been in gathering that information is absorbing. He has the ability to draw you into the scenes and carry you along on the journey.

While his book about Florida oranges was the first of his books that I have read, and I liked it best, this one is written in that same way. I wish I could afford one of these canoes.

I would recommend this book for all high school students and any adult looking to learn about the canoe or just looking for a good book to read.

I have enjoyed many of John McPhee's books. I'm looking forward to reading this one. McPhee almost always presents a movable feast.

Enjoyable afternoon of reading. This is an interesting work on both the birch bark canoe and travelling using one. While you may not come away from this feeling like a different person, you will certainly come away with a smile.

McPhee writes with clarity and grace. His descriptions are vivid and his characters are lively. He doesn't just narrate a tale to the reader; he takes the reader on a journey. For anyone who likes nature or the outdoors, this is a must read!

This is a well-written, informative, and also very strange book. McPhee opens the book in an earnest, almost didactic fashion, and you get the idea that this book is going to be one of those staid affairs in which the subject of the book, in this case, a canoe maker named Henri Vaillancourt, is going to be portrayed as some kind of environmental saint and a keeper of Native American tradition. What you get instead though, is almost a parody, with some wickedly wry observations on Vaillancourt's character. You'll either see this book as a mean-spirited vehicle for the author to make fun of Vaillancourt, or you'll giggle all the way through. The Time magazine blurb from the editorial section was obviously written by someone who hadn't read the entire book. This book was written with a wicked grin on the author's face and a little bit of poison in the ink. The only complain I have is that McPhee often plunges into rather overly-technical writing about canoe building, but this occurs less and less often as the book nears its conclusion.