The Bookworm: Encounters with the Archdruid

Encounters with the Archdruid by John McPhee. 245 pages. Farrar, Straus and Giroux. 1971.

Park was contemplating Glacier Peak. We were as close to it as we would ever be. It was right there — so enormous that it seemed to be on top of us, extending upward five thousand feet above our heads. “That’s the sort of thing that draws people into geology,” he said. “Geologists go into the field because of love of the earth and of the out-of-doors.”

“The irony is that they go into wilderness and change it,” Brower said.

On the last page of Encounters with the Archdruid, I wrote, “Wow.”

Once again, John McPhee’s syntax and narrative mastery have blown me away. I do not know how else to explain his genius other than to consider him a literary god.

Encounters is another gem of literary journalism. It recounts three wilderness adventures McPhee took with David Brower, a former executive director of the Sierra Club and “the most militant conservationist in the world,” and three of Brower’s environmental nemeses: Charles Park, a mineral engineer, hikes with them through an area of the Cascades targeted for copper mining; Charles Fraser, a developer “who regards all conservationists as druids,” shows them around Georgia’s pristine Cumberland Island, which he intends to turn into a second Hilton Head; and they ride the rapids of the Colorado River with Floyd Dominy, the commissioner of the Bureau of Reclamation, who wants to build a dam in the Grand Canyon.

Not only does McPhee do an excellent job characterizing all four individuals and outlining each wilderness experience — his outstanding descriptions made it seem like I was there with them — but the way he showcases the interactions between Brower and his arch enemies, both cordially and combatively, was outstanding. A snippet from a Wall Street Journal review featured on the back cover says it best:

Mr. McPhee, not pushing, just presenting, portrays them all in the round, showing them clashing in concrete situations where factors are complex and decisions hard. Readers must choose sides.

That is one of the things I love about McPhee: his journalistic integrity. If you want fair and balanced reporting, look no further than McPhee. He is an unbiased intermediary between who/what he writes about and curious readers craving the straight dope. McPhee offers it, free of any spin or editorialization. For each wilderness adventure, McPhee provides vital, impartial information about the situation and stakes, balancing on the thin middle ground between the extremes of Brower and Park/Fraser/Dominy. Inquisitive and thorough, as all good journalists are, McPhee serves as an observational instigator, who, although an active participant in each expedition, is able to camouflage himself like a chameleon to disappear into the background and record what happens without interfering.

The kind of narrative journalism on display in Encounters, and also in Uncommon Carriers, is the type of reporting and writing I would love to do. However, I am just too chicken. It is The Quiet Man being a quiet man. Though curiosity sometimes drives me wild, and I have grandiose ideas for stories, I cannot muster the guts to do investigative work, to slake my thirst for understanding and knowledge. While a newspaper reporter, I felt too much like I was meddling and interfering, and the bitterness I experienced from some sources was discouraging; some people are just uncooperative assholes, and I hated dealing with them.

As a former (perhaps failed) journalist, I have incredible respect for McPhee. The man has not only mastered the craft, but developed adept interviewing and note taking skills. While describing the neoprene raft he, Brower, and Dominy rode on the Colorado, McPhee wrote about stuffing his notebook into a plastic bag every time they reached a rapid. Awesome.

First published in 1971, Encounters offers a vivid picture of the environmental and conservation movement in the late-sixties and early-seventies, at least as much as it concerned Brower. He and the Sierra Club are portrayed as having serious clout and influence to sway public opinion and the plans of government and industry. Wilderness areas and preserves were being established, saving thousands of acres from ruin. Brower and his crew, and even his rivals, were talking about global warming, overpopulation, and the devastation caused by modern life and consumerism. Though Brower and his nemeses did not see eye to eye on certain issues, they respected each other and understood why the other thought the way they did. It was incredible; tales from an age of reason. However, I was often shocked by how passive Brower was, especially since he was supposed to be so militant; he seemingly had no problem with Fraser developing Cumberland Island (which was bought by the federal government and deemed a National Park). He was also a borderline hypocrite. He bemoaned overpopulation, but had four kids of his own. Obviously, this was an early age of enlightenment and education for environmentalists, so I suppose I can excuse him for his naïveté.

Overall, Encounters is an excellent book. Again, as with other McPhee writings, it may stretch the patience and attention span of some readers, but I thought it was engrossing.

New words I learned: All definitions courtesy of my MacBook dictionary. Stewart Udall: From Wikipedia: “Stewart Lee Udall (January 31, 1920 – March 20, 2010) was an American politician. He served as Secretary of the Interior from 1961 to 1969, under Presidents John F. Kennedy and Lyndon B. Johnson.” Prepossessing: “attractive or appealing in appearance.” Mellifluous: “(of a voice or words) sweet or musical; pleasant to hear.” Demonstrable: “clearly apparent or capable of being logically proved.” Cirque: “a half-open steep-sided hollow at the head of a valley or on a mountainside, formed by glacial erosion.” Duff: “a flour pudding boiled or steamed in a cloth bag.” Pirogue: “a long narrow canoe made from a single tree trunk, esp. in Central America and the Caribbean.” Aver: “state or assert to be the case.” Elegiac: “(esp. of a work of art) having a mournful quality.” Malapropos: “inopportunely; inappropriately.” Quiescent: “in a state or period of inactivity or dormancy.” Talus: “a sloping mass of rock fragments at the foot of a cliff.” Peneplain: “a more or less level land surface produced by erosion over a long period, undisturbed by crustal movement.” Cowpuncher: Informal slang for “cowboy.” Antaeus: In Greek mythology, “a giant, the son of Poseidon and Earth, who compelled all comers to wrestle with him, overcoming and killing them all them until he was defeated by Hercules.” Ornithology: “the scientific study of birds.” Epithelium: “the thin tissue forming the outer layer of a body's surface and lining the alimentary canal and other hollow structures.” Skein: “a tangled or complicated arrangement, state, or situation.” Ameliorate: “make (something bad or unsatisfactory) better.” Hawser: “a thick rope or cable for mooring or towing a ship.” Tabby: “a type of concrete made of lime, shells, gravel, and stones that dries very hard.” Fulminate: “express vehement protest.” Inimical: “tending to obstruct or harm.” Marginalia: “marginal notes.” Bivouac: “a temporary camp without tents or cover, used esp. by soldiers or mountaineers.” Petard: “a small bomb made of a metal or wooden box filled with powder, used to blast down a door or to make a hole in a wall.” Floor-through: The only match in the dictionary I could find was “floor-through apartment,” which describes an apartment that occupies the entire floor of a building. Vacillate: “alternate or waver between different opinions or actions; be indecisive.” Ebullient: “cheerful and full of energy.” Rote: “mechanical or habitual repetition of something to be learned.” Vitrescent: “capable of or susceptible to being turned into glass.” Matins: “a service of morning prayer in various churches, esp. the Anglican Church.” Anachronism: “a thing belonging or appropriate to a period other than that in which it exists, esp. a thing that is conspicuously old-fashioned.” Ineluctable: “unable to be resisted or avoided; inescapable.” Cairn: “a mound of rough stones built as a memorial or landmark, typically on a hilltop or skyline.” Scoria: “a cindery, vesicular basaltic lava, typically having a frothy texture.” Tailrace: “a water channel below a dam or water mill.” Incongruous: “not in harmony or keeping with the surroundings or other aspects of something.” Crenellate: “provide (a wall of a building) with battlements.” Quotidian: “of or occurring every day; daily.” Douane: “a custom house in France or other Mediterranean countries.” Pentatonic: “relating to, based on, or denoting a scale of five notes, esp. one without semitones equivalent to an ordinary major scale with the fourth and seventh omitted.” Brinksmanship: “the art or practice of pursuing a dangerous policy to the limits of safety before stopping, typically in politics.” Expurgate: “remove matter thought to be objectionable or unsuitable from (a book or account).” Calumny: “the making of false and defamatory statements in order to damage someone's reputation; slander.” Sine qua non: “an essential condition; a thing that is absolutely necessary.” Tessellation: “decorate (a floor) with mosaics.” Monadnock: “an isolated hill or ridge or erosion-resistant rock rising above a peneplain.” Couloir: “a steep, narrow gully on a mountainside.” Tympanic: “resembling or acting like a drumhead.”