Customer Reviews

Tide, Feather, Snow: A Life in Alaska

5 star:		(21)
4 star:		(29)
3 star:		(6)
2 star:		(2)
1 star:		(0)

 

 

This book enters the fairly glutted genre of Alaskan autobiographies. Homer Alaska probably ranks behind only Hollywood and DC for inspiring memoirs. A quick glance at my bookshelf found Fishcamp Life on an Alaskan Shore, As Far As You Can Go Without A Passport: The View From The End Of The Road and Not Really an Alaskan Mountain Man all featuring life in Homer and the journeys that led there. So can there be another deserving personal story about finding a home in Homer? Apparently yes.

Homer has a strange draw in that it is the "End of the road." But the key point is that it is still on the road so you can live a "frontier life" and still get a McDonald's hamburger. I've been fortunate to visit the city annually for the last twelve years (about the same time period the author writes about) and where my writing has been practical - where can you find a public shower type stuff - Weiss uses painterly strokes to paint the town, the landscape and Alaskan lifestyles, carefully rendering the joys and warts of living in Alaska.

The author's tale is bittersweet, being charmed by what Alaska has to offer but always showing an undertone of human failure. She dives into set net salmon fishing, only to have someone vandalize their nets while they are gone. Or they visit the Russian Colonists at the end of the East Road who live a private, utopian lifestyle, but when they get to the end of the road, they find trespassing signs and a littered beach. Even her relationship with her boyfriend is haunted by a human failure that cannot be overwhelmed by the dream of living in Alaska.

Like many people coming to Alaska, Weiss' dream seemed to resonate in an empty spot within her. This is by no means unique story, but it is a well told one. It is a personal journey toward finding a woman's own worth and purpose while discovering what I feel is one of the most amazing corners of our continent. I think for a lot of people who come to the state, this is their experience. Maybe it should be required reading for anyone heading north to find a simpler life to answer personal troubles.

Weiss impressively catalogs the changes that have taken place in the area whether they are seasonal, or cultural like the shift from fishing village to retirement location. She creates an amazing sense of place which made the book a joy to read.

In life, the things we most desire generally come to us at the precise moment we stop trying to find them. When I was reading Miranda Weiss' TIDE, FEATHER, SNOW, I was often reminded of this stark and annoying fact. Weiss' book about her life in "America's last frontier", Alaska, tries very hard to be literary, philosophical, and profoud. It tends to succeed mainly at the moments when Weiss is distracted by her own story, and drops the strained effort to impress the reader with her extremely Literary prose style. Did his happen enough to make it worth buying and reading? That depends a great deal on your own personal tastes.

Like George Bailey's GERMANS, TIDE is the chronicle of an obsession: in this case, with the Alaskan wilderness, which has fascinated Weiss her whole life. The book is not merely a physical journey, describing the intense culture-shock which Alaska brings on newcomers, even those like Wiess that fancied themselves outdoors-types, or a travelogue about the glaciers, forests, rivers she encountered, or even a study of the wildlife, though it is all these things; it's an emotional diary, depicting how living in Alaska awakened her to the rhythms of life and nature, to the perils of existence past the edge of civilization, and to the dangers of environmental destruction. The book is meticulously and thoroughly written, taking time to "smell the roses", which in this case are things like adlers, flights of cranes, spawning salmon, 23-hour nights, immense snowfalls, and a community spirit which is almost nonexistent in the rest of America. It takes a great fascination with the process of life and existence itself, a la Ernst Junger, and the style occasionally wanders into the prose-poetical, a la St. Exupery. Because of this, however, TIDE, while full of insight, is not easy on the eyes. It is often slow and sometimes ponderous, solemn and occasionally grim, and I found it very hard to shake the feeling that Weiss was trying too hard to move the reader. That sense of strained grandiosity (which this review may share, but reading Weiss puts me in that mood, I guess) is the enemy of easy reading, and indeed, TIDE was a book I had to really bear down on to get through. In a writer, whatever her other gifts, that's a hard sin to forgive.

So I give TIDE a reluctant three stars. Reluctant, because Weiss' has important and sometimes beautiful things to say, and hard-won wisdom to pass on; three stars (and not four) because of the particular way she said those things. It's my hope that her next outing, if there is one, will be a more relaxed, natural piece of work, with less signs of stress on it than this.

The most appealing aspect about TIDE, FEATHER, SNOW: A LIFE IN ALASKA is the very descriptive voice that author Miranda Weiss uses to describe her experience in Homer, Alaska. Weiss's decision was not a spur of a moment calling but something that had been living and breathing in her psyche since childhood when she assembled a 43-page research project on the state of Alaska when she was in fifth grade that also included creating a Baked Alaska as well as taking a hiking trek to the Blue Ridge Mountains as a teenager that remained a constant reminder. But Weiss describes it best: "a long slow ache" (28). Destiny may have brought her to the state known as "The Last Frontier." However, this would be a frontier where she would have to adjust and adopt to the small-town quaintness, the wilderness, living off the land, dealing with day and night, and still struggling to leave the life she left behind in the Maryland suburbs.

As one reads each passage from the book, one can almost see and smell the landscape that Weiss vividly shows. Alaska may be the last frontier with parts of the state still appearing untouched, and with Weiss's several encounters with various living sea creatures, Humback whales, rockfish, salmon, and mussels for viewing or for foraging for food, this was her life; she saw the beauty of nature right before her eyes. But also situated within Weiss's narrative are layers of the historical and cultural background of the people of the Kachemak Bay region that is rich with remnants of Native cultures and settlements of the Sugpiaq, Alutiiq, Den'ina Athabascan and origins of expansionist activity in Alaska by the Russians during the 1700s and other historical tidbits.

TIDE, FEATHER, SNOW is an enticing book. It is a combination of memoir and nature writing that may be compared to other books that fall under this genre, such as John Muir's narratives about living or being in touch with nature or "God's country." But in between the enthralling descriptions, Weiss shows that change is inevitable in all aspects of life that also includes the nature of things.

The cover photo was so captivating that I had to read this book. It started out well enough and held my interest, but as it progressed, I found the brutal honesty of the author too much. I wanted to read about her impressions of Alaska, but I was not prepared to read about her fixation with toilet practices, her body, her sexual mores,and the brutal dumping of her boyfriend. I thought the overall effect for me is that she came off looking downright weird. My impression of Alaskans after reading this book is that they are losers who can't function anywhere else. I don't think the last observation is true, but after reading this highly personal tome, I think the first one is. Of course, she has a right to be weird; I just don't want to read about her world. I'll say this: she is capable of describing nature in a beautiful way, but here's one reader who could have done without her mention that her cotton underwear was sagging. What's the value in that?

I was thrilled at the idea of reading this book when I accepted a review copy from Amazon Vine shortly after its publication. I have read over a half dozen memoirs about people moving to Alaska to live off the land and have always enjoyed reading those stories. This theme described in the marketing materials is one that interests me a great deal. I am one who has romantic notions of this endeavor and my trip to Alaska via cruise ship has only fueled this fire. My grandparents also homesteaded in the woods of Maine near Mt. Kathadin, and the stories of their hard life, building their own two homes (one lost to fire) and living with `making do' with a low income have been heard over and over. Lastly I was interested in the book because I am a nature observer who visits the Atlantic coast regularly and lives near Long Island Sound.

The book did not draw me in at the beginning or later on. I felt it had a flat tone or a kind of distant emotion, like the author was detached or viewing things from a distance. So I picked it up and put it down numerous times for over six months. This month I forced myself to read it from cover to cover in order to give the book a real chance to prove itself. Sadly the book didn't `pick up'. I'm disappointed in the book for multiple reasons besides the `flat' tone which I did feel was present throughout. I felt that the author was keeping some walls up, preventing the reader from knowing some of her emotions or thoughts.

Perhaps what was most problematic for me was the book starts off with her moving to Alaska with her boyfriend, a dream she had long before ever meeting him. However little in the book is about their relationship and her life. She reports on topics as if from a distance almost like a journalist writing a magazine article, rather than connecting them to her own personal opinions as is the usual tone of a memoir book. It felt like some of these chapters in the middle of the book would have been better suited to being published as single magazine articles, especially topics such as describing the Old Order Russian Orthodox residents who lived on a compound. If my point is unclear, let me try to explain it this way: sometimes it is like a memoir telling of her experience moving to Alaska and other times it reads like investigative journalism, long magazine articles, and it goes back and forth. The pacing of the book is off, it felt `uncomfortable', detached or "off" (it's hard to explain).

The timeline felt jumbled in the book and left me feeling confused while reading it. I was confused about when the book was being written. I assumed it was progressing forward from the first months there but the writing often seemed to be a general observation of that seemed to be about multiple seasons' experiences. For example a person who just moved to Alaska would have certain observations of birds and animals but the writing seemed to be referring to them with a more comfortable ease after having viewed them for multiple years, lacked much emotion or first impressions and included more information about them that must have come from research (rather than just being the author's personal experience viewing them and her emotion).

The book wrapped up telling of how her romantic relationship with her boyfriend wound up but what was in the middle of the book seemed to be about multiple years' time having lived in Alaska. The book left me curious to know more about the author so I read her website and saw that she left Alaska to obtain her master's degree and wrote this book while in New York, and then she moved back to Alaska. I think that explains why the writing is the way it is: it seems not to have been written with fresh memory as the first year or two of Alaska was being experienced, it has a distant feel to it.

By the end I felt that the writer's strength was describing her observations of nature and telling general stories about life in Alaska. This is good writing taken chapter by chapter or if published as magazine articles or magazine essays, but something felt off about the pacing and timeline of it when presented in a book format and marketed in the genre of memoir/nature that made me think as a BOOK it is mediocre.

The author's respect and awe for nature was clearly evident as is her worry for what she perceives as negative effect's of human's inhabitance of Alaska (even the Native population's actions that damage the ecosystem and use the natural resources). Her views about the environment are in line with the current concern of global warming and the idea that "people are trashing this Earth and nature is fragile" as well as being in the "anti-oil" camp. I'd thought that the toughness of nature might be clear to her but she kept referring to nature as fragile. So this book is not just happy nature lover's thoughts, there are worries and concerns expressed as well. This book may be embraced by those new to the green living movement.

I rate this book 3 stars = It's Okay for my issues with the pacing and writing style which felt detached and unemotional to me. I really wanted to love this book and think this is a fair rating for this book.

Alaska from the inside out....

Have you ever wondered what it would be like to live on the Alaskan Frontier, to leave the modern world behind and step back into the pages of history? Tide, Feather, Snow is one woman's experience that leaves a definite impact.

You will receive a plethora of information that will likely surprise, enrich, and fill your imagination beyond belief. The beauty of nature at it's finest is detailed, broad, and bluntly portrayed as survival of the fittest always wins. The harsh elements will never be tamed, but the value of experience and hands-on learning can mean the difference between life and certain death.

Homer is a small Alaskan town at the end of the road. Miranda shares her thoughts, daydreams, and reality through vivid writing, painting mind pictures that you can see, here, feel, touch and smell as you walk along her path. She shares openly her daily routines of gathering food in the spring, summer and fall to prepare for the harsh winters that lie ahead. Lacking confidence in many areas, Miranda relies on her boyfriend, books and old timers to gain the wisdom needed to keep on going where many others return stateside. Miranda is faced with many challenges. Determined one moment and confused the next, her life is filled with emotional and physical roller coasters.

I found Tide, Feather, Snow packed with unique information from which I gained new insight into life in Alaska. However, the writing style felt disconnected. One paragraph or two we would be off on an adventure or facing a new challenge then memories of another time or experience would intrude for several paragraphs and then back to the adventure. Even though the writing was very descriptive and informative it felt like I was reading in a monotone. The same scenes were often described over and over with slightly different perspectives.

Tide, Feather, Snow allows the restless spirit to experience the cold, hard realities of life on the edge of the Alaskan frontier.

I am an Alaska stalker. I've always dreamed of living there, but it's not a dream that's going to happen, so now I live there vicariously. I read everything I can about Alaska, from Dana Stabenow's mysteries to John McPhee's "Coming Into the Country." Humor, adventure, history...I eat it up...and most of the time it's a miserable diet. It seems that every cheechako who didn't get swallowed by a grizzly bear or flipped to oblivion in a speeding Snowcat has to write a book about it. Some writers get all mystical with it, others are obviously indulging their imaginations. A few produce the kind of book that brings you there, to a place where you can smell the trees, feel that first trace of cold on a July night that means winter is already on its way. Some writers don't so much depict Alaska as open the door and let you walk through. Mirandq Weiss is one of them. She's written a lyrical book, but it's much more than that. First of all, she moves from the East Coast to Homer, which was the exact trajectory of my dreams. As Miranda struggles to get the survival skills, to figure out how to relate to a small and insular and eccentric community that are needed to get by, she slowly morphs into the genuine article...not a green horn cheechako, but a woman who is comfortable in her surroundings, challenged and awed by them, but not overwhelmed. The culture clash facing every non Alaskan who ventures up north, the seeming contempt for the environment that shares equal time and space with reverence for land and nature in the Alaskan psyche, even the enormous difficulties of just getting a meal on the table are beautifully described, so those of us with the Alaska jones feel like we're part of it. Miranda describes her surroundings with a crystal clarity that puts you right there. I sat in a cabin with her and actually smelled the coffee brewing and saw the morning sun getting higher and bringing out the critters as it warmed the land. She has an enchanting writing style, and I mean that in every sense of the word. For pages on end, she bewitched me and I was there...suspended somewhere in Alaska, living the dream. This is another must have for all Alaska stalkers!

Weiss's keenly observed prose introduces readers to the memorable people and peculiar beauty of Alaska's vast landscape and takes us on her personal journey of adventure, physical challenge, and culture clash. In the tradition of John McPhee's Coming into the Country, this elegant and affecting memoir is nature writing at its best.

I love books about the North, whether Canada, Alaska or Europe and I'm always willing to take a chance on a new author who wants to tackle this area. I grew up on Jack London, Farley Mowat and Pierre Burton and anything that puts me in that reminiscent state of mind is welcome.

Miranda Weiss has offered a book in Tide, Feather, Snow: A Life in Alaska, that could be a bit of a stretch to place in that category but as I read the book I appreciated very much the skilled writing, and the use of poetic narrative. The subject matter, which in many cases could be considered mundane, really does come to life vividly. As I read and progressed through the book and came to realize that this was not a survivalist or extreme type of recounting that Arctic writing usually aims for, I came to appreciate the wonderful eye for detail and description that this author has and I found myself drawn along and appreciative of what this book is in its own right; namely a very tightly written and captivating nature memoir.

In terms of how most people live in Alaska I suspect this is more reflective of reality and rather than romantic and emotional appeals on a grand scale, the routine, mundane and average experiences of a resident of Homer, Alaska come alive in a way that maybe less observant and reflective people would miss, to their loss.

I recommend this book enthusiastically. Once started you'll have little trouble continuing and enjoying the author's evident skills in her craft.

4 Stars.

Bart Breen

I've been to Homer, Alaska several times so I can testify to its alluring beauty. Tide, Feather, Snow catches that nicely and I enjoyed reading it. A woman from MAryland goes to AK to live with boyfriend, enjoy the starkness and strangeness of nature there, the individualized populations (like the Russian Orthodox0, the combat fishing, etc. However, the wheels come off when the relationship ends and she starts hanging out in bars, picking up traveling musicians (!) and eventually hooking up with her husband. There seemed to be two stories not expertly joined. But the first 3/4 of this book is lovely and well written.

I got this book hoping for an Alaskan adventure like the Stabenow series provides. This isn't that kind of book.

There's a lot of big, wonderful, exciting and dangerous Alasks. Danger comes from underestimating Nature and it comes from being ill prepared. Excitement comes from tight writing and getting involved with the characters, hoping for their survival, if not success.

This is a story about a triumph of human perseverance and ingenuity pitted against almost reckless ignorance of survival basics. It is a story about people, trust and dependence on each other.

However, beyond the story of the people is some excellent writing that evokes the grandeur and majesty of the largest, most varied and most pristine state.

It made me want to go back and visit Alaska again.