By RICHARD FROST
When I moved back to the North Country some years ago, I quickly purchased a copy of "The Adirondack Reader."
This compendium of literature, compiled by Paul Jamieson, reminded me of some former haunts, introduced me to a variety of writers, stimulated me to read dozens of other books on the region and led me to visit an unending variety of interesting places.
That classic collection has now come out in a new edition, on which Plattsburgh native Neal Burdick collaborated with Jamieson. Unfortunately, Jamieson died before publication, but the book stands as testimony to both literary and outdoor pursuits that helped fill his 103 years.
The basic format of the volume has been retained with sections devoted to such topics as "The Storied Path," "Guide and Party," "Shelter for the Night" and "Woods—Peaks—Waters."
Information on each writer is tabulated at the end of the book.
Many of the selections are old favorites, including samplings from the work of William H.H. ("Adirondack") Murray, Charles Fenno Hoffman and Verplanck Colvin. The tragic tale of Calamity Pond is retold. There's the poignant poetry (and I'm not always a fan of poetry) of Jeanne Robert Foster. If you've never read Charles Dudley Warner's "How I Killed a Bear," this alone justifies buying the book.
Richard Henry Dana writes engagingly about a chance meeting with famed abolitionist John Brown. Henry Van Dyke's wonderful description of a hike in "Ampersand" made me want to drive right over and climb that mountain again. Words by Philip Terrie can be juxtaposed with a fictional passage by Sloan Wilson as a point/counterpoint on attitudes toward the Adirondack Park Agency's evolving role in the region.
In the introduction, Burdick describes his process for selecting newer pieces. He makes the point that, whereas most early work on the Adirondacks was penned by outside visitors, now there are many full-time residents creating a body of regional literature.
Several newer writers make a strong impression. Alice Green describes challenges she faced growing up as an African-American in Mineville. Sue Halpern's essay on the boot-camp prison in Moriah reminds us that all Adirondackers aren't here voluntarily.
I made a point of checking out the two editors' work. Burdick is represented by a striking narrative about one Orrando Dexter, whose murder in 1904 has never been solved. Jamieson wrote elegiacally on the history and joys of canoeing.
Anyone familiar with Adirondack literature will cite a few favorites that were omitted. I would like to have seen Murray's fictional "Phantom Falls" included. Among more recent possibilities might have been the work of Karl Jacoby, who writes with clarity on the impact of Adirondack Park development on those who were already living here.
I was sorry to see some of the shorter selections — like Charles Dudley Warner's "A Primitive Man," a study of Keene Valley guide Orson Phelps — abridged. On the other hand, it's good that Theodore Dreiser was limited to just a couple of the 1,000 pages from his classic "An American Tragedy."
But this is quibbling.
It's hard to imagine anyone not finding plenty to like about "The Adirondack Reader." The North Country novice will find this a useful entry point onto the broad field of fact and fiction written about the area. And I'd expect even the most knowledgeable Adirondacker would find something new to enjoy — or at least to enjoy rereading.
Plus, this is a multi-functional book. Use it to fill a quiet afternoon. Perhaps pick a selection or two to read each night before bed. By all means, take it with you to a campfire. And note that plenty of pieces beg to be read aloud.
Warner quotes Phelps as saying, in admiration of the High Peaks, "waal, now, them Gothics ain't the kinder scenery you want ter hog down."
Similar sentiments hold for "The Adirondack Reader."
E-mail Richard Frost at: rbforiole@aol.com
