The River and I

by John G. Neihardt, Tim Anderson (Introduction)

In 1908 John Neihardt (1881–1973) and two companions traveled the Missouri River—about two thousand miles—in a twenty-foot canoe. Originally published in Outing Magazine as a series of articles,  The River and I describes their adventures on that wild waterway before it was dammed by the Army Corps of Engineers and points out storied sites along the shore. The result transcends journalism; Neihardt does for the Missouri what Twain did for the Mississippi. This Landmark edition makes available once more the book that was issued in 1910, two years before Neihardt began work on A Cycle of the West and twenty-two years before the publication of Black Elk Speaks .

Genres: Classics, Nature

325 pages, Paperback

First published June 1, 1910

About the author

John Gneisenau Neihardt

Reviews

[Katie · Rating 4 out of 5]

i enjoyed this. very frivolously, poetically written but i’m a sucker for it lol. i like being able to look back at what wilderness in america was like right before the brink of mass industrialization, damming, mining etc. and this is written like a journal so it’s cool to see into the mind of a young man on this physically and mentally difficult journey in 1908, and how even though life was so different, the experience of being human at its core still feels so similar, especially in natural settings. and i just love a book about an adventure into nature and how it expresses within us what it really means to be alive and our place in the universe.
and!! for being written by a white man in 1908,, not Too terribly racist! edward abbey in the 60’s was way worse.

i wrote down so many quotes, so i will be putting several below:

“I have seen trout streams that I thought were better lyrics than I or any of my fellows can ever hope to create. I have heard the moaning of rain winds among mountain pines that struck me as being equal, at least, to Adonais. I have seen the solemn rearing of a mountain peak into the pale dawn that gave me a deep religious appreciation of my significance in the Grand Scheme, as though I had heard and understood a parable from the holy lips of an Avatar. And the vast plains of my native country are as a mystic scroll unrolled, scrawled with a cabalistic writ of infinite things.”

“I could do it in no better manner than to lift my arms above the river and cry out into the big spaces: ‘You who somehow understand- behold this river! It expresses what is voiceless in me. It prays for me!’”

“Perhaps, after all, cranks really have to be turned. Still, it seems too bad, and I have long bewailed it almost as a personal grief, that utility and ugliness should so often be running mates (…) May we all become, some day, perfectly useless and beautiful!”

“It all came back there by the smouldering
fires--the wonder and the beauty and the awe of being alive.”

“And then suddenly and without shock--like the shifting of the wood smoke the mood veered, and there was nothing but I. Space and eternity were I--vast projections of myself, tingling with my consciousness to the remotest fringe of the outward swinging atom-drift; through immeasurable night, pierced capriciously with shafts of paradoxic day; through and beyond the awful circle of yearless duration, my ego lived and knew itself and thrilled with the glory of being.
The slowly revolving Milky Way was only a glory within me; the great woman-star jewelling the summit of a cliff, was only an ecstasy within me; the murmuring of the river out in the dark was only the singing of my heart; and the deep, deep blue of the heavens was only the splendid color of my soul.”

“The quitter that is in all men more or less, often whispered to us when we were weariest: "Why not take the train?
What is it all for?" Well, what is life for?
We were expressing ourselves out there on the windy river. The wind said we could n't, and our muscles said we should n't, and the snag-boat captain had said we could n't get down so we went on. We were now in full retreat retreat from the possibility of quitting.”

“At noon we landed. We had rowed fourteen hundred miles against almost continual head winds in a month, and we had finished our two thousand miles in two months.
It was hard work. And yet-
The clang of the trolleys, the rumble of the drays, the rushing of the people!
I prefer the drifting of the stars, the wandering of the moon, the coming and going of the sun, the crooning of the river, the shout of the big, manly, devil-may-care winds, the boom of the diving beaver in the night.
I never felt at home in a town. Up river when the night dropped over me, somehow I always felt comfortably, kindly housed.”

[Pam · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is an early Neihardt book (1908) and thus the trip of a young man. It was written at the very end of the romantic period when nature was an especially powerful subject. In a time before complete self absorption and cell phones, the wilderness could still be king.

Neihardt often compares the new land (America) to the old used-up, over-tamed Europe, a very romantic idea indeed. His reaction reminds me of grand American romantic painters like Albert Bierstadt. The Native Americans have gone from the landscape but the Missouri River was still unconquered by man (the trip happened before the river was dammed for flood control and hydroelectric power).

For me there was too much about himself and not enough about the river. However, as he saw the trip it was all about self discovery. Maybe a little flowery for modern tastes, but a singular journey.

[Liz Renner · Rating 5 out of 5]

The River and I is a remarkable adventure story about John Neihardt's 1908 voyage along the full length of the Missouri River from its headwaters in Montana to where it empties into the Mississippi River in St. Louis. Neihardt, an editor for Outing Magazine, recounts the perils and excitement of navigating the roiling "Big Muddy." Long before the river was tamed by a series of main stem dams, it was wild and unpredictable, and Neihardt's account captures the beauty and wildness of the Missouri River and the incredible landscape it meanders through. The book is one of the strongest arguments for why we need to set the Big Muddy free.

[Jessica Roberts · Rating 4 out of 5]

Yet another book you back into and are glad you did!

I loved the LANGUAGE of the book. Parts of it are lyric. It also made me want to travel down the Missouri myself, before reality intruded.

[Jim Jones · Rating 4 out of 5]

John Neihardt firmly believed in the nobility and the mythic qualities of the West. Early in The River and I, he states that the Greek epics can barely hold a candle to the drama of the explorers, trappers, and Natives of the American West. In this travel narrative, Neihardt attempts to create a “Missouriad,” an ode to the longest river in the world, which he traveled with friends by boat in the early 20th century. He feels the river is mysterious and immortal--the defining feature that allowed the West to be explored. The book is at times humorous, at times philosophical, but always poetic--a joy to read.

[E. · Rating 2 out of 5]

A lusty travelogue down the Missouri River from the Great Falls to Sioux City at the dawn of the 20th century when the modern world had yet to fully intrude. Niehardt's language can be overwrought at times, but there is also a splendid sense of adventure.

[Patricia Tennesen · Rating 2 out of 5]

A little too dull for my taste. I love books about nothing, with very little action, when one is pulled into the protagonist's thoughts, but this was a little too deep or dull for me.

[Mike · Rating 3 out of 5]

Number 3 in the river series.

I found this in the library stacks and figured I ought to read it. It's 100 years old this year and concerns the poet's boat trip down the Missouri River from its origin in Montana to a stopping point in South Dakota. At times, the writing is enthusiastic and charming, though the wit can be a bit rich. Over the course of the journey, he likens the Missouri River to being America's version of an epic, coins the phrase "free information bureau" for all of the spectators who frequently provide him with advice about anything and everything, marvels at waking up a human instead of a turnip, savors a camping meal consisting of a deer he brought down, frets at being "baconless" for a while, and argues unconvincingly that the Missouri is a tributary of the Yellowstone River. For the most part, it was an enjoyable read, but not a page turner.

[Kristina · Rating 3 out of 5]

I picked this up during our cross country trip when we visited the Neihardt Center in Bancroft, NE. He definitely has a poets voice and there are some striking lines. I think I just wasn't so into the subject. I did enjoy the comparison in the beginning chapter to awe inspiring nature with Greek Gods.

[Ben · Rating 5 out of 5]

Neihardt tells a winning travel narrative buoyed by his endless enthusiasm, his sense of poetry and his erudition. He seems like he have been a travelling companion who was at turns delightful and infuriating, illustrated best when he is chanting Byron at one of his companions as they huddle together to escape from a storm.

[Mary-Marcia · Rating 4 out of 5]

I hadn't realized that this is the same author that wrote Black Oak Speaks!
Read this before going on my own river journey on the Green River Utah.
Charmed by the romantic tone, the yearning for the bigger picture.