Customer Reviews

Under the Devil's Thumb

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

 

 

I just finished reading an advanced copy of David Gessner's second book, and I have one word: Fantastic! Mountain biking, skiing, hiking -- it's an adventure book for the thinking person. Gessner writes beautifully about the Rockies, Utah, and Anasazi ruins. He integrates everything he sees and learns into his own (and the reader's) understanding of his life and the people in it. Under the Devil's Thumb is rich in characters and setting. Like a great novel, it keeps you turning the pages. A fine, fine piece of literature!

After 143 pages of drinking in the great outdoors, on page 144 David blunders onto the idea that he might be an alcoholic. Gee, dyathink? This book sounds like work of a man who desperately wants his words or his life to mean something big. He must refer to "personal myths" a dozen times in this book. He uses an incident where he leaves his sick, laboring wife behind on a x/c ski trip, only to "rescue" her and carry her pack near the end as a launching pad into an essay on heroism and heros (a title he doesnt claim, but one gets the sense he thinks he deserves). Oh puhlease! David is obviously well-read and I think he has potential when he writes about something other than himself. But his personal essay is too personal, he is too shallow for me to care about his character, and he never does anything interesting to write about (unless you call ski-drinking interesting). His essays of "place" about his affection for his new home in the west ring hollow to me, as if he desperately wants to believe what he has written. The book has its good moments, he occasionally turns a few good paragraphs when he is talking about something other than himself. But they seem like window dressing when viewed in the context of the whole. This was a hard book to finish because I just didnt care.

Found this to be an ejoyable read. It fits on the shelf next to edward abbey and bill bryson quite nicely. I recently read an essay by David Gessner in Orion - Learning to Surf - find the article online and read that if you want a quick taste of the superb writing gessner is capable of. I found this book to be close to that level of greatness; no "desert solitaire" but thoroughly enjoyable. I don't understand the previous reviewers abhorrence of beer - those contradictions contribute to a rich life. But fair enough, if you are the type who will occasionally negate your lightweight hiking gear by packing in a bottle of wine to share around the campfire, you will love this book.
Be Well,
Art

Gessner's personal essays on man and nature, family, and mortality are deeply inspiring and amazingly well-written. He has a wonderful and unabashed way of articulating his thoughts. I believe he will soon be considered one of the important literary writers of our time. This book will make you feel like getting off your tush and climbing a mountain.

It sounded good. And I could relate to parts of it, as a recent transplant to Denver and having just experienced the deaths of close relatives. But the pomposity was too much. Some interesting stuff, but a lot of disorganized rambling. It feels like Gessner is just trying too hard to write the book he wants to be so proud of. The word "narcissistic" pops up a lot in the book. Totally appropriately. Does the guy mention beer in every single essay in the book? Yes, David, you're cool - you carried beer along on your hike.

After enjoyng Gessner's first book about Cape Cod (A Wild, Rank Place), gave this a try and found the same honest voice and distinctive viewpoint. The kind of book you want to read all at once. He shares the most personal experiences in funny, vivid and sincere writing. Really good, makes you want to invite him over for a beer, or a bike ride, and hear more.

Though I enjoyed much of this book immensely, calling it a book would be a bit generous. Though its major theme of the importance of a person establishing connectedness to a place rings true, the disparate chapters and their topics do not lead to a book that is greater than the sum of its parts. It stands better as a series of essays. Some chapters are full of the overwrought musings of an overly sentimental tree hugger, others are just too downright giddy and reek of so much gosh gee willikers amazement as to be pure drivel. There is also a narcissistic tone to the book that detracts from many of the aithors very moving and genuine observations. However, other sections ring so true that they should be lifted straight out of the book and put on a travel brochure. Mr. Gessner is at his best when waxing eloquently about the past (his own or anyone else's) or when he is on his bike ( a kindred spirit with this reviewer), but when he drifts into reflections on the zen of the moment it seems just too drippingly forced for this rreviewers taste.

From start to finish, I was deeply moved by Gessner's insightful and creative prose. This is perhaps the greatest book I've ever read. Thank you, Mr. Gessner, for making an invaluable contribution to contemporary American literature.