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Library | Call Number | Status |
|---|---|---|
Searching... Stillwater Public Library | 921 PAULSEN | Searching... Unknown |
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Summary
Summary
The author describes his motorcycle journey through Minnesota and the Rockies to the Alaskan Highway, recalling the events in his life that have made him the man he is today.
Author Notes
Gary Paulsen was born on May 17, 1939 in Minnesota. He was working as a satellite technician for an aerospace firm in California when he realized he wanted to be a writer. He left his job and spent the next year in Hollywood as a magazine proofreader. His first book, Special War, was published in 1966. He has written more than 175 books for young adults including Brian's Winter, Winterkill, Harris and Me, Woodsong, Winterdance, The Transall Saga, Soldier's Heart, This Side of Wild, and Guts: The True Stories Behind Hatchet and the Brian Books. Hatchet, Dogsong, and The Winter Room are Newbery Honor Books. He was the recipient of the 1997 Margaret A. Edwards Award for his lifetime achievement in writing for young adults.
(Bowker Author Biography)
Reviews (4)
Publisher's Weekly Review
Talk about succumbing to the mystique of Harley-Davidson motorcycles. Paulsen's fourth collection of memoirs finds him 57 and diagnosed with heart disease. So before it's too late andas the book's title suggestsdesperate to test his masculinity, Paulsen (Eastern Sun, Western Moon) invests in a barely used Heritage Softail and sets out for Alaska from New Mexico. His encounters along the way trigger memories that are more detailed than Paulsen's actual travels. Which is a good thing. He tells terrific tales of working with migrant Mexicans in North Dakota, playing high-stakes poker in the army, running the Alaskan Iditarod and hanging out with the hard-edged Midwestern cop who deterred him from a life of juvenile delinquency. And Paulsen's account of shoveling out septic-tank pits in Denver is comic genius. Eventually, though, the book retreats back to Paulsen and his Harley. Unfortunately, he indulges in every grease-monkey, hard-ass motorcycle stereotype he can, leaving readers with a tainted impression of motorcycle dealers and riders. Women will probably not enjoy this machismo and Paulsen's informal and still convuluted writing style is not for everyone. But his gift for storytelling makes riding along on this 10,000-mile trek worth the trouble. (Nov.) (c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved
Kirkus Review
Lyrical and pleasing reflections on machinery, midlife crisis, and sundry other matters. Not long ago Paulsen, a Newbury Honor author of books for children, as well as books for adults (Eastern Sun, Western Moon, 1993, etc.), turned 57 and discovered he had a heart ailment. He also discovered, he writes, that he is a man, in a time when it has become anachronistic to be masculine. To avert the horror of growing old, cuddly, and debilitated, Paulsen went out and bought a Harley-Davidson motorcycle, shopping for which turned out to be a challenge--for a new bike, he learned, he'd have to pay a small fortune and then wait three years for delivery. Arming himself with a used machine, he took to the road, making his way from New Mexico to Alaska and back again, celebrating the freedom afforded him by the Harley-as-extension-of-self. The book that resulted from his trip is really a series of loosely connected essays. One treats the curious career of George Armstrong Custer, whom Paulsen seems intent on rehabilitating. Writing in a Hemingwayesque turn, he takes the line that, while it is politically incorrect to express respect for the doomed general, it is difficult not to admire his courage, and in the end it could be said that he was given his measure of fame--which is more than most men are given. Another essay explores the American worship of know-how, the almost religious aspect of being a mechanic that does not seem to exist in other countries. Still another deals with the myriad ways there are to meet one's maker on the back of a motorcycle, crushed by an errant piece of livestock or splattered by a road-hogging RV. These meditations don't quite add up to a full-tilt memoir, but they make a nice entertainment all the same. (Author tour)
Booklist Review
The indefatigable Gary Paulsen is back again. His newest work is a memoir covering 57 years of hard work and hard living, the last few with the knowledge of advanced heart disease; and at the center of his narrative is a love affair with motorcycles. From the very first page, his words conjure up the heady odors of whiskey, motor oil, and testosterone. He takes us from his early days working in a Minnesota frozen vegetable factory, when he bought his first motorized bicycle, up to the present, when, as a successful author, he can finally afford to buy (or can't afford not to) a Harley. He makes a bone-jarring, kidney-shaking journey from New Mexico to Alaska. His way is peppered with stops and side trips to reminisce about the episodes, machines, and acquaintances that have shaped, and occasionally saved, his life. In the end, it is not the motorcycle that Paulsen sings the praise of, but the ride. --Eric Robbins
Library Journal Review
A man on a Harley, riding away from middle-aged angsta trite story were it not told by the author of such gems as Clabbered Dirt, Sweet Grass. (c) Copyright 2010. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
