Goodbye to a River

by John Graves

The author recounts his three-week journey down the Brazos River in an attempt to recapture its colorful past

Genres: Nonfiction, History, Nature, Travel, Memoir, Book Club, Classics

306 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 1959

Reviews

[Linda Nichols · Rating 5 out of 5]

Where do I start? The author grew up in Fort Worth, as did I, and knew this stretch of the Brazos, as did I, though his knowledge is much more intimate; I never, in my memory, set foot in the river. My paternal grandparents and a couple of my father's siblings lived in Granbury, as do some of my cousins still. My maternal grandmother was born in Dennis, a bit upstream from Granbury. I've lived at both ends of the Brazos, and for a quarter of a century on a tributary to the Brazos, not far from Granbury. Mr. Graves's narrative of his three-week canoe trip down the river from Possum Kingdom dam to Barnard's Trading Post, with his 6-month-old dachshund as company, is filled with river lore and frontier stories, as well as with the people who lived there when he made his trip, before the De Cordova Bend Dam was built to impound Lake Granbury. (The plans to build dams on the river was his rationale for the trip, his means of saying goodbye to the river he knew as a boy.) The book speaks to me, deep in my core, and I thoroughly enjoyed reading it. I just don't know why it took me so long to pick it up.

[David · Rating 4 out of 5]

This travel book was published in 1960, when the heavy hand of the Hemingway writing style lay upon most people who thought of themselves as “serious” writers, whatever that means. This book has a serious Hemingway influence, but that shouldn’t put you off if you don’t like Hemingway himself. Sometimes, reading Hemingway-influenced writers, like this one, is superior to reading Hemingway himself, because Hemingway-influenced writers can swipe the best qualities of Hemingway (esp. writing with few spare words) and disregard the bits of Hemingway that have not aged well, like his opinions about what constitutes proper behavior for a man.

This is not a book for people in a hurry. This is not a book for people desperate to be entertained. It is about a solitary man (with dog) journeying down an obscure river in Texas. The writer believed that the river would soon disappear as a result of multiple planned dams, but most of them never got built (attributable to the influence of this book, says Wikipedia) and the river continues to flow to this day.

The trip downriver in this book is a little like traveling with your grumpy and eccentric grandpa. Grandpa does not tend to wax enthusiastic about things, and is especially unfond of new things. However, he is honest enough to admit that some of the old things were not so great either. He is reverent about nature. He doesn’t really want to have long conversations with the people he meets, but he tries to suck it up and be as pleasant as his nature allows, when he cannot avoid human society. A sample of his philosophy: “If it hurts it’s probably doing you good. If it’s pleasant it’s most likely wrong” (p. 190).

I’ve noticed here on Goodreads that some people will simply stop reading a book and flounce off in a huff when a writer refers to Native Americans as “savages”. If you are one of these, I can save you a little time by telling you that this first occurs on page 17, and again two or three times after that. There are also at least two instances of the word “colored” to describe African-Americans. A group of birds is described as “twitching their tails like cocktail waitresses” (p. 239). Remember, this was 1960. If you are sensitive to this sort of thing, there is no shortage of other worthwhile books to read.

The eccentric grandpa thing extends also to spelling and word choice, especially spelling drought “drouth”. (This is Texas, so drought occurs frequently in the narrative.) An auto service station and grocery is consistently a “ser sta gro.” There is also the occasional charmingly weird onamonapias (some apparently made up by the author, other seemingly preexisting) to describe sounds in nature, like “... squirrels there charked at me …” (p. 72) and “The wind soughed in the treetops” (p. 73).

This book sometimes appears on lists of books you should read to understand Texas, like here and here.

[Elle Henson]

This is not a book for people in a hurry to read. It perfectly encapsulates the feelings that I have when spending multiple days only in nature (albeit not weeks). At first you’re restless, maybe even bored, but then you fall into a peaceful rhythm. Exactly how I felt about this book

And I need to do week long trips.

[Matthew · Rating 5 out of 5]

To this day, the Brazos is unpredictable, mesmerizing, frustrating and beautiful. It is this work by John Graves that once saved the Brazos from being dammed into nonexistence.

In Waco, one sees the hoboes that still fish down by the riverwalk, and the fireworks on the 4th of July reflecting in its waters. I remember swinging into the brown water from a rope with my friends in my teenage summers, I even got my first kiss along the bank of the Brazos. Floating down the river in a canoe, one has to wonder about all the history. One can still feel the centuries of human experience, even if you're just staring at an old rusty car sitting on the riverbed when the Brazos has slowed down to a trickle. If you feel this history, and you want to know more about it and the characters made by the river, this book is the place to start.

Graves knew the Brazos, and he knew its personal secrets like an old friend. A lot of what he knew he went looking for, walking up to homes and talking and staying with old timers, eating breakfast with them and sleeping in their beds. He even knew the names of most of the bends in the river - in this instance from about Possum Kingdom to Mineral Wells. This is where Graves grew up, and his recollections of the 'cedar people' and his boyhood friends are just wonderful! Some of those 'make you laugh and cry' type deals.

Layered into this memoir are tales of astonishing family feuds, the adventures of Comanches, the life of Charles Goodnight, and even a little bassett hound, and more!

If you've ever so much as glanced at the Brazos, I beg of you to read this book some day. It is a book that has and will continue to change the world.

[Jen Blair · Rating 3 out of 5]

I'd give it 3 1/2 stars if it allowed me to. His prose about the Texas landscape is beautiful, and I enjoyed the many stories he collected from the people he encountered along his journey. The book paces slowly, and perhaps rightfully so to expound on how a journey like that causes one to slow down and absorb the atmosphere around you. The slow pacing made his story difficult to stay with sometimes, but I enjoyed the time I spent within the page of this book.

[Jamie · Rating 4 out of 5]

This book has been sitting on my shelf for 15 years, unread. For reasons that escape me, I thought it would be boring and poorly written. And perhaps, at the time I bought it, that would have been true. I attended and worked at the Worth Ranch Boy Scout camp (mentioned in one 2 sentence segment in the book), which is what piqued interest in the book. The curious terrain and copious amount of legend and mythology that area are enough to make anyone become obsessed.

It was thoughtfully written, enjoyable, and informative. It reminds me of Steinbeck's "Travels with Charlie". Not surprising, I guess: man travels remote, infrequently travled path with dog, recounting his interactions with locals, throwing in some history and lore, and reflecting on the larger flaws of society. It was written during the same period, too, so the language and tone is surprisingly similar.

If the reader did not have experience with Texas, I don't think they would enjoy it quite as much as I did. It should still be on the list of those who like travel books with a relaxed, country feel, before the days that travelogues morphed into whole new beast. A lot of travelogues now have reality show syndrome, trying to one up each other on extremes. This one feels genuine and relaxed. The author seems to be someone who sits in both worlds, with sentimentalities for the old ways of using the land as a resource to be exploited and a conservationist. He expresses his naturist ideals in a way that would appeal to the traditionalist, not in a forceful fashion.

A quote on the cover compares the author to Thoreau, and I think it has some merit. Of course, it's been a long time since I read Thoreau. "Walden" is probably one of those books I need to re-read. Overall, it's an enjoyable book, much more so for someone who knows the area he travels through. But it's a great book overall for those who like travelogues and think about the world around them.

[Jake Veigel · Rating 5 out of 5]

A man and a canoe and his 6 month old dachshund canoe the Brazos. The author finds out they are going to damn a part of the Brazos River in west Texas, his part to be precise. He grew up on its waters and when he hears the news he canoes it a final time. He tells of his time on the river, but also tells the stories of the river itself. He talks about hermits of the past. He tells of shoot outs amongst bandits. He talks about Charlie Goodnight and Boze Ikard (who was the inspiration for Deets in Lonesome Dove books). I've heard the story of Martha Sherman's brutal torture and death by Comanche raiders twice now and would be fine if I never heard it again. Be warned.

He's a great storyteller and the stories are told as if grandpa was talking. You may learn a thing or two.

[Jeff Garrison · Rating 4 out of 5]

Traveling alone by canoe, one has an opportunity to do a lot of thinking. And that’s what John Graves did in the mid-1950s. A series of dams were being proposed along his beloved Brazos River in the hill country of Texas. As a final goodbye to the free flowing river, Graves and a puppy spent most of a November floating the river. Passing familiar bends, he stops to recalls the history of the area. Other times, he reminisces about a favorite fishing hole or the site of a hunt he’d enjoyed. He tells the stories of old settlers and in some places encounters folks whose roots to the river go back into the nineteenth century, at a time when the river was really wild.

The book flows as slow as deep water, allowing the reader to savor the stories. Graves recalls “the People,†or the Comanche, who’d controlled the area before Anglo-migration in the 19th Century. He tells the stories of settlers who died at the hands of “The People,†as well as those who helped “stabilize†the area. But it wasn’t really settled. Rough times preceded and followed the Civil War. Lynchings were common, feuds fierce and revenge a way of life. Lynching wasn’t just reserved for African-Americans. Caucasians, Mexicans and even in one case, a mother and several of her daughters found themselves with a rope around their neck and dangling as a “pendant from a limb.†“Vengeance is mine, says the Lord,’ but the good citizens of Springtown, Parker County, Texas, appear to have honed themselves on His cutting tools.†Because of the feuds and desire for revenge, he admits that many stories were lost for they were not told because “like a broken-back rattler, [they] still had a bite left in them.†Graves also spends time pondering how stories have changed over time.

Life was as harsh in this country in the 19th Century, not just with the lack of law and order, but also with the limits of the soil as farmers and cattlemen strove to eke out a living. Graves tells about the various settlers and styles of cabins they’d built and about how, in time, pecans had became big business. But it’s an investment for the planter’s children, as the trees slowly reach maturity. Graves also ponders the blending of faith along the river. “Calvinistic fundamentalism and its joined opposite, violent wallowing in sin settled that part of the world and have flourished there since like bacteria in the yolk of an egg.†A little later he notes that it’s a good thing there are a “few Mexican Catholics around†for they “dull the spines of the Baptist prickly pear.†Even the pious were not above the feuds as he tells the story of a Methodist Episcopal Church-South preacher named Jim Truitt, whose testimony helping convict a man. In the end, the man’s son took care of the preacher.

Throughout his journey, Graves notes the calls and the habits of certain birds. He also is reminded of his time during the war, on islands in the South Pacific, a theme that seems to haunt him. Although he hunts and even shot a duck on the water for his Thanksgiving diner, he reflects on how he changed from his childhood. As a kid, he’d shoot any animal that moved, but now only shoots for meat. He also fishes, using a trotline when he needs meat. But he confesses his love for the fly rod, although he wouldn’t argue it with “a man who finds his joy in hurling treble-hooked bullets through the air, and winching his fish to boat or shore with an apparatus that practically thinks for him.â€

As the end of the trip approaches, he finds himself pondering life off the river, noting, “It didn’t go on forever, the river.†In a like manner, I remember the last week of my trip on the Appalachian Trail, when I wished the trail didn’t end on that mountain ahead. But his trip came to an end and returned home to write this book.

This isn’t a fast book. It’s slow, but the stories are rich and the pace forces us to slow down. If you read this book, savor it!

[Frank Stein · Rating 4 out of 5]

If at times the book dawdles, or repeats itself, or meanders, the reader knows that it is trying to mimic the Brazos River, in central Texas, for which it was an elegy. The river wasn't dying, just being dammed, or further dammed, and the celebrated nature writer John Graves traveled down its length in the late 1950s to wish the old, semi-wild river farewell.

Much of the book concerns the long history of the central Brazos. Although some historical figures, such as Charles Goodnight, founder of the Texas cattle trails, lived around there, the book focuses more on people like Martha Sherman, raped and killed by Comanches, or Captain Peter Garland, who massacred a suite of Indians that the over-idealistic Major Neighbors had tried to teach to farm. This history is the usual, lamentable tales of hit-and-runs and tit-for-tat battles between cowboys (or, more properly, ranchers) and Indians that lasted through the 1870s and 1880s in the area. The sane tenor of the writing give the tales a sense both of quotidian struggle and almost nihilistic grandeur.

Graves also spends much time writing about the drakes, bream and angoras that were above, below, or beside the river. Graves is lyrical in a pragmatic, Western way about these animals, as he hunts or fishes for them, but the best parts of the book is really his endless self-reflection. There is something Proustian, or Knausgardian, about it. He probes his own feelings towards sporting, towards the river, toward comfort and towards companionship. Without ever veering to one side, he sees the benefits of all views, the costs of civilization and its call, the desire for fairness and the thrill of the hunt, the value of Calvinistic fatalism and its destructiveness. One can hardly wish for a better guide to modern, semi-touched nature, conducted through the prism of a thoughtful soul.

[Mary Havens · Rating 4 out of 5]

Lots of pros - the map at the front was invaluable as I followed Graves’ journey down the Brazos. I also loved the Texas history lesson as Graves passed various landmarks. My brother warned me it was a lot of Indian attack stories but they didn’t detract from the journey (he made it sound like it would). I appreciate how Graves looked at these stories from both perspectives - he routinely addressed the fact that pioneer stories are often a bit of hero worship and there is no need to have either the hero worship or the “us vs. them” mentality. It’s hard to maintain that perspective when addressing history. I found the writing style to be intriguing even though it always took me a moment to get my bearings.
Graves also had a nice bibliography which I also appreciated.
Cons: I thought there would be more ecology/environmental science type stuff. I felt like this story was more about the history of that area (which I enjoyed since I’m familiar with some of that land) even though this book has always been billed as one on ecology. The book could have used more editing - there were plenty of places that I had to re-read the sentences because of lack of punctuation.
I’m not sure how many people would be interested or enjoy reading this book if they were not familiar with the area. If you were interested in attempting Texas history, it wouldn’t be a bad one to try. It’s not that long and it’s fun to follow the journey.

[Bart · Rating 4 out of 5]

This book is more like an epic poem of Texas than a memoir or essay or novel. It is about a trip down the Brazos river, yes, but it treats the folks that have dotted the plains and hills of Central Texas much as it treats the river itself.

John Graves writes beautifully, in a prose influenced but never overwhelmed by Ernest Hemingway. He also hankers to tell stories about the extinct Comanche tribe - "The People" - that raided much of the land round the Brazos, for a century.

Though at times the story is tedious, in the end you wouldn't want the book any shorter than it is.

Highly recommended reading for any Texan or anyone wishing to visit Lone Star State or someday become a Texan himself.

[Drew · Rating 4 out of 5]

I would give it 4.5 stars if permitted. Some of the best landscape description I have ever read. Interesting history about the 1860's/1870's, Comanches, the hard-scrabble people who lived in Texas, written by a philosopher/theologian/naturalist. The arc of the book is a three-week canoe trip down the Brazos River before a string of dams were built.

[Elizabeth · Rating 5 out of 5]

This has to be one of my most favorite books ever. It led me to seek out Graves' other books, also very good. He was a Texas treasure.

[Jackson Woodruff · Rating 3 out of 5]

Well I’ll be. I started this book two years ago when I first bought a canoe of my own. Everyone told me I needed to read it. The book is Graves’ telling of his last canoe journey down the Brazos River before the construction of dams began. I wanted to love this book. I did not love it.

I can and do appreciate this book. The story of his trip is intertwined with the history of the area, winding back and forth just as the river does.

Some of the history was fun, like the Davis stories. Others, quite boring, his historical ramblings part of the cause for taking such a long time to read.

Graves also enjoys his use of big words. He is quite the pontificate.

However, there are other parts of this book I do enjoy. He captures the essence of the Brazos quite well, though I wish he would talk more about the river. He does not romanticize nature in the same way as Leopald, Muir, Abbey, and others. And he does this on purpose. He calls it hard-scrabble. Tough land. But you would think someone so fond of the river would spend more time discussing its beauty.


And now, quotes I like:

- Why, intrigued ignorance asked, did wild things so often choose to stool on rocks, stumps, and other elevations? Commonsense replied: Maybe for the view.

- In our time, quietness and sun and leaves and bird song and all the multitudinous lore of the natural world have to come second or third, because whether we wanted to be born there or not, we were all born into the prickly machine-humming place that man has hung for himself above that natural world.

- - All to go, like the breed of people, like the wild things along the shores, like autumn... What is, is. What was, was. If you're lucky, what was may also be a part of what is. Not that they often let it be so, now.

- - It was good fishing, a little too good. In angling, as in reading, suspense is a quality worth having. You savor the waiting quest of quarry or fact and like their possession the more for the time and—you tell yourself —the skill that went into attaining it. I do, anyhow.

- Possibly I'll give up shooting again and for good one of these years, but I believe the killing itself can be reverent. To see and kill and pluck and gut and cook and eat a wild creature, all with some knowledge and the pleasure that knowledge gives, implies a closeness to the creature that is to me more honorable than the candle-lit consumption of rare prime steaks from a steer bludgeoned to death in a packing-house chute while tranquilizers course his veins. And if there's a difference in nobility between a Canada goose and a fat white-faced ox (there is), how does one work out the quantities?

- In our time, quietness and sun and leaves and bird song and all the multitudinous lore of the natural world have to come second or third, because whether we wanted to be born there or not, we were all born into the prickly machine-humming place that man has hung for himself above that natural world.

- With a box gushing refrigerated air (or warmed, seasonally depending) into a sealed house and another box flashing loud bright images into jaded heads, who gives a rat's damn for things that go bump in the night?

- likely that Bluff had a good name once before some doullard called it inspiration point. The nations map is measles with names like that, pox from the old 19th century plague that made people build gazebos and well tops of rough masonry with oaken buckets on ropes but no well beneath (unless it was a “wishing well”), and sing “Annie Laurie,” and read Scott for his worst qualities, and long to own paintings by Bourguereau and Landseer or Alma-Tadema, and disregarding the guts and soul in the old nomenclature of American places, rename them inspiration point and lovers retreat and maiden leap.




And that’s all I have to say about that.

[Kate Laws · Rating 4 out of 5]

Goodbye to a River is a narrative describing the 3 weeks in November the author spent floating the Brazos in north Texas with his pup. A series of dams had been proposed and Graves was sad thinking of all that would be lost. So he set out to say goodbye and tell all the stories he could along the way. As a river person who grew up visiting the Buffalo in Arkansas every year this book read just like listening in my childhood to the old men whose veins ran with river water. They would talk about the course of the river, the springs that fed it, the shifting gravel bars, the caves you could explore if you pulled out here or there, the birds, and fish, and beasts that called it home. They would tell you who used to live in that dilapidated stone cottage and who had lived there even before them. They talked about fish they had caught and snapping turtles that had caught them, and the nights spent drinking and frog gigging. They would tell you about a whole way of life if you were of a mind to listen. This book was exactly that and I loved it like I love my river.

[Zach Stryffeler · Rating 4 out of 5]

An excellent read for any native Texan or Texan transplant. I learned more about the rough and tumble wild lands of the Brazos than I ever knew before. My favorite part of Grave’s writing is how he showcases just how little we are removed from the days of old west where “The People” still laid claim to large swaths of Texan homesteads. It’s quite easy to think of just three or four generations ago as ancient history, and just how close our grandparents and great-grandparents were to listening to hunting parties just outside the border of the pasture. At times, the reading was dense and methodical, but ultimately, it was an enjoyable experience that gave me a deeper insight into my current home.

[Brooke]

I wanted to like this but didn’t. I’m reluctant to give it a low rating, however, since I still value its historical and societal contribution. Other people really like it, so I’m probably just not the suitable audience…

[Dav Paulsen · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book has been on my list for a long time. It is almost an epic poem of the author's last float down a familiar river that is soon to be changed (ended?), forever.

[Will Florentino · Rating 5 out of 5]

a perfect travel book! very thoughtful! was confused why he just had raw onions on him for the whole trip tho

[Corinne Holloway · Rating 3 out of 5]

A really interesting travel log, memoir, and history of the Brazos River in Texas. Parts were more violent than I expected—mainly due to Comanche/Texan relation stories. But overall a really interesting book from a genre I rarely read. Thanks for the recommendation, Ellen R.!

[Phil Gavenda · Rating 5 out of 5]

I loved this book. I can't believe it took me over forty years to get around to it. I've had it since the 70's; judging from the UT Co-op receipt still stuck inside I got it for Joe Franz's Texas History course around 1978. It's definitely a "genre" book: Nature, wilderness, travel, whatever you want to call it. Observations of nature comparable to Aldo Leopold; observations on solitude and need thereof, similar to Colin Fletcher. What's unique to this narrative is his incorporating of local history into his tale, deftly told and wonderfully described.

[Joshua Miller · Rating 5 out of 5]

The cover of this book has a quote by Larry McMurtry saying "John Graves' writing is invaluable....The reader who misses him will have missed much." This quotation perfectly summarizes my thoughts about this reading experience. Graves knows who he is and is at peace with this fact. He is an aging Texan from the Brazos country and fully embraces its history and his own.

In response to a construction project where the river would be dammed at multiple places and undeniably changed forever, he makes one last journey traveling the river by canoe as a farewell. He reminisces about the folklore of the land while traveling these waters. Stories of old, most certainly embellished and possibly mythical, breathe character into a land concerned with Friday night lights and barbed wire fences. Cabin lore is a major, and somewhat surprising, topic of history. However, these wood-hewn, dilapidated structures are the Hill Country's Sutton Hoo, Nineveh, and Troy offering keen insights into its forebears and how they lived. Tales of settlers and The People (Comanches) clashing give empathy to both sides as wars, droughts, and famines fuel the undulating waves of history. Calvinistic Fundamentalists to Southern Baptist to Mexican Catholics are interspersed reminding the reader what mindsets have inhabited this region. As if that wasn't diversified enough, within a few pages he mentions Jacob de Cordova, a Jamaican American who died near the river; John B. Christensen, a Midwestener of Norwegian descent who founded Kristenstad (now a ghost town); and Charles Barnard, a New York Irishman who set up a trading post near the de Cordova bend in Hood County. And once the stories are told, a sense of ambiguity for past events ensnares its listener. Digression has never been more welcoming and more exciting an experience.

Aircraft plants aren't always mentioned with much liking. They tend to be the reason why people have lost all touch with the land and its legacy, besides the Old Ones. Although he does acknowledge that as the land changes, so do its people. And that's not always a bad thing in his mind. For me, these gentle jabs proffer a window revealing a world outside my own. If the aircraft factories never existed here, I may have never gotten to experience the nature of the Brazos as John Graves does.

From the first page, one can tell this man understands the land around him. His knowledge of wildlife, in particular birds: kingfishers, canyon wren, sand pipers, titmice, and whitethroats to name a few, dazzle and awe while seemingly requiring minimal effort. And as if to show off, although I encouraged any additional revelation to his depth of ornithology, birds were identified by nothing else but a mating call.

Storms blew in from the Brazos country one evening while I was reading and nearly took my trash can away. Lightning, searing blue and violently staccato, riddled the Trinity River with bursts of sounds for the apprehensive neighbors. These pieces of sensory detail, along with my paranoia of my belongings, rendered a slight glimpse of the possible conditions Graves knew he could have encountered. And being alone, well besides the passenger, supplements the anxiousness and weariness of a looming thunderhead.

These are some observations I had while reading about a river that I have lived close to for several years and never knew much about. If you have lived in the Brazos Valley or Fort Worth or somewhere in the Hill Country, then you will appreciate this book. Besides, you'll learn a few new words to boot.

Over the past few years, I've read increasingly diverse literature and am still amazed with what people write about and how they do so. What a marvel language and literature are. It's funny what can be accomplished with 26 letters, 9 symbols, and 1 space.

[M. Sarki · Rating 4 out of 5]

https://rogueliterarysociety.com/f/go...

...The silent air of ruin is fragile…

The relaxed and unhurried writing of John Graves is welcomed in the midst of our country”s latest upheaval caused by the unleashing of Trump’s white supremacists. Stories of historical white rule, racism, and greed populate this travelogue in no small way. In essence, little has changed from the time just after the Civil War until, surprisingly, now. Instead of the focus being on suppressing blacks the original Western white man rents his vengeance on the American Indian, and specifically on a fierce and warring tribe called the Comanche. Graves provides numerous historical stories and folk tales while he traverses along the Brazos River in West Texas in the late 1950’s. The book follows an excitingly real outdoorsman traveling downriver by canoe in November with a puppy he calls The Passenger.

...I’ve always hoped geese would outlast me...

Graves was an early environmentalist. Worried that pesticides and other pollutants would kill off the geese in his lifetime it is remarkable that they have so far survived the incessant onslaught. Many times within recounting a tale Graves digresses with his own personal views about life and is something I exceedingly relish in reading prose. Considered the greatest writer in Texas, Graves provides the literary goods to prove his fans right in their assessment.

...seven sleeps old…

I came late to this fine book. I had never heard of Graves until I discovered his name in a Rick Bass essay. Typical of my reading to find and add additional writers and their books to my growing queue. One of the great pleasures of reading is learning new things. Graves puts himself totally into this book. His personality, opinions, and beliefs pop up within any tale he takes up as pertinent to his subject. It is no wonder he was widely popular though restricted to his region.

...change is the promise of all the rebirths to come…

Hand in hand with my current study of the Gita, Ram Dass, and Krishna Das this book chops wood and carries water with the best of them. There is no hurry for this read to end anytime soon. I am savoring it. Lush with the enterprise called life and living it with gusto.

...after much honey the puckering acid of acorns tastes right…

For those of us wishing to learn as much as we can, there are untold benefits in reading a John Graves book. Tidbits of practical advice and Graves’ uncompromising opinions flourish in this river journey.

...the kindliest of possible Gods had it in mind all along to install us in two-car suburban homes with air conditioning, television, and automatic kitchens…

The facetiousness of Graves and his sporting duels with American society is not only entertaining but also a welcome respite from the seriousness of our present days. Never before has our country faced so many obstacles in maintaining the democracy envisioned and protected by our constitution. And like the Christian bible, almost any interpretation can be be proffered in promoting and anointing demented and dangerous ideas so often energized by extreme radicals of every stripe.

...Illusions are worth having…

[James · Rating 5 out of 5]

If you are a naturalist, a historian, a Texan, or any combination of those, you'll enjoy this account of a solitary, reflective trip down a stretch of the Brazos River prior to the building of the dam for Lake Granbury. For that matter, if you are one who tries to balance the march of progress against nostalgia for the past, you'll find Graves' musings thoughtful without being overly sentimental. The book isn't really dated, despite the fact he wrote it decades ago.

The book contained a lot more anecdotes and tales of the days of the early settlers and the Comanches and Kiowas than I had expected, and no punches are pulled.

A side note. Having chuckled at the line in James McMurtry's "Lights of Cheyenne" about a young man "...all dressed up like Gunsmoke for Saturday night", I am guessing that he has also read (and probably enjoyed) Graves.

[Owen Curtsinger · Rating 4 out of 5]

A beautiful homage to a seemingly insignificant piece of country but one rich with history and wildlife. I'm new to Graves' work but I can see why he has had a following, and as a new migrant to the Fort Worth area, I'm glad to have the opportunity to experience some of the wild terrain that still exists along some sections of the Brazos. He writes with real humanity about hunting and wilderness, and the utility of those activities in a society that has become so commodified as to render them useless pastimes. He writes with a passionate curiosity about old legends of historical note, battles between natives and ranchers, or drunken family disputes. But above all he writes in appreciation of each yard of the river that he rambles down in his canoe. As a nature writer he is in league with Edward Abbey and John McPhee.

[DavidB · Rating 5 out of 5]

John Graves journalistic piece is now regarded as a seminal work of American Conservationism. The book is a narrative of his three week canoe trip down a segment of the Brazos river in Texas in the late 1950's before a dam project would deluge his childhood stomping grounds. It is an excellent travelogue and meditation on the river and changing times and values.

Further information and a map of the route can be seen on www.davidbogosian.com as well as links to his Texas Landscape books coauthored with photogrpaher Wyman Meinzer.

[Karen · Rating 5 out of 5]

A true story of John Graves who with his pup Dachshund, "the passenger" canoed the Brazo's river in the 1950's. He calls it a Farewell as soon after a series of dams were built on the river. John Graves winds & weaves stories of Native American's, Texas pioneers, flora, fauna & his own life as he heads down the river. The stories flow as naturally as the river he travels. This book is keeper and one that I will re-read.

[John · Rating 4 out of 5]

Henry Strozier did an outstanding job with the narration. I'm not a dog person, but fell hard each time he mentioned "The Passenger" with such gruff affection.

[Suellen · Rating 3 out of 5]

A man and his dog explore Texas from the river, seeing a dying culture and lifestyle. Readable and poignant and entertaining.

[Jo · Rating 5 out of 5]

I read this ages ago and loved it. It was the only book that made me wish I was a man, so I could have the same kind of journey. Mr. Graves just passed away. He was a great Texas writer.