From Publishers Weekly
Simpson's debut collection of essays about Alaska, winner of the 1997 Chinook Literary Prize, combines a refreshing voice and vision in a work that is part adventure, part meditation and part natural history lesson. With her distinctive brand of descriptive journalism, she's informative and captivating, lyrical without ever being maudlin, and philosophic without being preachy. Readers will trust the voice immediately because she speaks the language of the Alaskan landscape. Simpson blurs the line between spectator and participant by living the experiences she writes about, and brings readers with her as she tracks the myths and realities of ravens, moose, bears, wolves and winter itself: "Summer carries you away, but winter inhabits you." She goes beyond symbolism to probe the mystery of Alaska while acknowledging that it's a mystery that can never be solved. She doesn't gloss over vulnerabilities and contradictions of the landscape and animal natureAhumanity and her own included. Ultimately, she wants readers to know that the landscape, although frozen, is alive with activity. "Everything is going somewhere," she writes. In irresistible language, she bewitches the reader just as the Alaskan landscape has bewitched her.
Copyright 1998 Reed Business Information, Inc.
Copyright 1998 Reed Business Information, Inc.
Review
As she explains, "end-of-the-roader" is a term for those in Alaska who have decided to abandon society and venture into the wilderness seeking peace or oblivion or sometimes even violence. The term might also well describe where Simpson takes her readers in this collection of stories. Once "the road" is left behind, we set off on an unforgettable journey into a hostile yet compelling world where peace may be just over the next mountain and violence can be lurking behind the next bush -- The Monterey Country Post, Dec. 17, 1998
Once in a great while, even this foreigner gets an inkling that she is reading something truly Western, truly indigenous. These are the books that could be read anywhere, because their roots go so deep into Western soil that they join the other strong, place-inspired literatures at the molten canon at the Earth's core. Read these stories in New York and you can still be stung by the wind off the tundra -- Los Angeles Times Book Review, Oct. 25, 1998
Readers will trust the voice immediately because she speaks the language of the Alaskan landscape. Simpson blurs the line between spectator and participant by living the experiences she writes about....Ultimately, she wants readers to know that the landscape, although frozen, is alive with activity. "Everything is going somewhere," she writes. In irresistible language, she bewitches the reader just as the Alaskan landscape has bewitched her (Publisher's Weekly, Sept. 14, 1998). REVIEW: ...a journalist's objectivity combined with a poet's love of words... -- Juneau Empire, Sept. 24, 1998
Once in a great while, even this foreigner gets an inkling that she is reading something truly Western, truly indigenous. These are the books that could be read anywhere, because their roots go so deep into Western soil that they join the other strong, place-inspired literatures at the molten canon at the Earth's core. Read these stories in New York and you can still be stung by the wind off the tundra -- Los Angeles Times Book Review, Oct. 25, 1998
Readers will trust the voice immediately because she speaks the language of the Alaskan landscape. Simpson blurs the line between spectator and participant by living the experiences she writes about....Ultimately, she wants readers to know that the landscape, although frozen, is alive with activity. "Everything is going somewhere," she writes. In irresistible language, she bewitches the reader just as the Alaskan landscape has bewitched her (Publisher's Weekly, Sept. 14, 1998). REVIEW: ...a journalist's objectivity combined with a poet's love of words... -- Juneau Empire, Sept. 24, 1998
