Strictly for fans who won’t mind this often-terrific storyteller not coming to a satisfactory conclusion, but rather...
Pulitzer Prize–winning novelist McMurtry follows the first volume of his memoirs, Books (2008), with a desultory account of his journey through “the scrappy, variegated world of letters.”
For the author, becoming a professional writer began with a Rice University creative-writing class—“it was bound to be better than sitting in math class, watching the calculus sail over my head”—but did not take off until his transfer to North Texas State Teachers College. Though more or less chronologically arranged, the rest of the narrative is surprisingly fitful and somewhat artless. McMurtry hints that Rhino Ranch (2009), the last of his novels devoted to Duane Moore of The Last Picture Show (1966), will be his farewell to fiction, and this narrative has its own autumnal feel to it: “In old age one writes, if at all, what one can.” Moving among the antiquarian book trade (his longtime sideline), literature and Hollywood (the subject of his next projected memoir), the slapdash organization might have been pardonable if not for a string of abortive vignettes. McMurtry piques interest, for instance, in observing that he once sat at dinner with DC hostess Pamela Harriman, “the greatest horizontale of her era,” but the author doesn’t provide the slightest detail beyond that statement. Many readers will wish he had spent more time on hellraisers James Dickey, Willie Morris and George Garrett; many of the other brief portraits—Wallace Stegner, Susan Sontag, Ken Kesey and Norman Mailer—read as if rendered with a dry eye. Thankfully, McMurtry isn’t too impressed with himself either. He points to an eight-year fallow period in which he disliked his prose following Terms of Endearment (1975). His brand of “old-fashioned realism,” he writes, has usually failed to impress critics—with the notable exception of Lonesome Dove (1985). Now, at the end of the trail, he prides himself on being a man of letters, neither rich nor poor, and sometimes reaching artistic heights in the bargain.
Strictly for fans who won’t mind this often-terrific storyteller not coming to a satisfactory conclusion, but rather ceasing, in exhaustion, from his prolific labors.Pub Date: Dec. 8, 2009
ISBN: 978-1-4391-5993-4
Page Count: 288
Publisher: Simon & Schuster
Review Posted Online: May 19, 2010
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Oct. 15, 2009
A moving meditation on mortality by a gifted writer whose dual perspectives of physician and patient provide a singular...
A neurosurgeon with a passion for literature tragically finds his perfect subject after his diagnosis of terminal lung cancer.
Writing isn’t brain surgery, but it’s rare when someone adept at the latter is also so accomplished at the former. Searching for meaning and purpose in his life, Kalanithi pursued a doctorate in literature and had felt certain that he wouldn’t enter the field of medicine, in which his father and other members of his family excelled. “But I couldn’t let go of the question,” he writes, after realizing that his goals “didn’t quite fit in an English department.” “Where did biology, morality, literature and philosophy intersect?” So he decided to set aside his doctoral dissertation and belatedly prepare for medical school, which “would allow me a chance to find answers that are not in books, to find a different sort of sublime, to forge relationships with the suffering, and to keep following the question of what makes human life meaningful, even in the face of death and decay.” The author’s empathy undoubtedly made him an exceptional doctor, and the precision of his prose—as well as the moral purpose underscoring it—suggests that he could have written a good book on any subject he chose. Part of what makes this book so essential is the fact that it was written under a death sentence following the diagnosis that upended his life, just as he was preparing to end his residency and attract offers at the top of his profession. Kalanithi learned he might have 10 years to live or perhaps five. Should he return to neurosurgery (he could and did), or should he write (he also did)? Should he and his wife have a baby? They did, eight months before he died, which was less than two years after the original diagnosis. “The fact of death is unsettling,” he understates. “Yet there is no other way to live.”
A moving meditation on mortality by a gifted writer whose dual perspectives of physician and patient provide a singular clarity.Pub Date: Jan. 19, 2016
ISBN: 978-0-8129-8840-6
Page Count: 248
Publisher: Random House
Review Posted Online: Sept. 29, 2015
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Oct. 15, 2015
PERSPECTIVES
A wonderful page-turner written with humility, immediacy, and great style. Nothing came cheap and easy to McCandless, nor...
The excruciating story of a young man on a quest for knowledge and experience, a search that eventually cooked his goose, told with the flair of a seasoned investigative reporter by Outside magazine contributing editor Krakauer (Eiger Dreams, 1990).
Chris McCandless loved the road, the unadorned life, the Tolstoyan call to asceticism. After graduating college, he took off on another of his long destinationless journeys, this time cutting all contact with his family and changing his name to Alex Supertramp. He was a gent of strong opinions, and he shared them with those he met: "You must lose your inclination for monotonous security and adopt a helter-skelter style of life''; "be nomadic.'' Ultimately, in 1992, his terms got him into mortal trouble when he ran up against something—the Alaskan wild—that didn't give a hoot about Supertramp's worldview; his decomposed corpse was found 16 weeks after he entered the bush. Many people felt McCandless was just a hubris-laden jerk with a death wish (he had discarded his map before going into the wild and brought no food but a bag of rice). Krakauer thought not. Admitting an interest that bordered on obsession, he dug deep into McCandless's life. He found a willful, reckless, moody boyhood; an ugly little secret that sundered the relationship between father and son; a moral absolutism that agitated the young man's soul and drove him to extremes; but he was no more a nutcase than other pilgrims. Writing in supple, electric prose, Krakauer tries to make sense of McCandless (while scrupulously avoiding off-the-rack psychoanalysis): his risky behavior and the rites associated with it, his asceticism, his love of wide open spaces, the flights of his soul.
Pub Date: Jan. 1, 1996
ISBN: 0-679-42850-X
Page Count: 320
Publisher: Villard
Review Posted Online: May 19, 2010
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Oct. 15, 1995
SEEN & HEARD
© Copyright 2026 Kirkus Media LLC. All Rights Reserved.
Follow
Popular in this Genre
We can’t wait for you to join Kirkus!
It’s free and takes less than 10 seconds!
Already have an account? Log in.
OR
Sign in with GoogleTrouble signing in? Retrieve credentials.
Welcome Back!
OR
Sign in with GoogleTrouble signing in? Retrieve credentials.
