His story begins with the arrival of his father, Howard Kantner, to the remote Arctic of the 1950s and ends with him as a grown man settled in the same landscape. Through a series of moving essays and vivid photographs, ranging in subject from family histories to hunting stories, celebrations of people and places to a lament over a majestic wilderness rapidly disappearing, Shopping for Porcupine provides a compelling, intimate view of America’s last frontier — the same place that captivated so many readers of Ordinary Wolves.
Can't believe I haven't reviewed this book yet. It is one of my all-time favorite favorite books, and easily one of the best memoirs I've read. Shopping for Porcupine has been on my shelf since it was released. It is one of those books that I pick up periodically and flip through, read a chapter here and there, just because it's so darn fascinating. Kantner, the author, brings you smack into the center of his arctic world, and before you know it, you feel like you've lived there all along. Wonderful reflection on a changing landscape and on a life filled with colorful friends and experiences few of us will ever share.
Although Ordinary Wolves is a superior work, Shopping for Porcupine gave a deeper insight into the Arctic as it stands today on more than the emotional & cultural levels that Wolves touches. I was not prepared for the disjointed nature of the work, and was not surprised (although a little disappointed) to find on the last page that it consisted primarily of previously published essays. Given the gravity - for all of us - that the lost Arctic Kantner is mourning and celebrating poses, I feel that it deserves a more coherent work. I have no doubt he is capable of doing it justice - he did in Wolves as far as Fiction can - but this work did not.
This is a collection of Seth’s previously published essays, so it doesn’t read as a start to finish chronological memoir, although most of the stories are sprawling with beautiful depictions of life above the Arctic Circle.
He is white, so not Alaska Native, but his family lived by the old Inupiat ways in the rural North, raised as a homesteader leading a subsistence (living off the land) life. I enjoyed the first half of the book more than the second, as in the later chapters are full of ruminations about his internal dilemmas about the impacts of materialism and technology and hunting regulations without really fleshing out his stance. Overall, I did really love it, and could see this as a book I read again because it is just so poetic about the land I love.
I should also mention it is a weird shape of a book and heavy paper (prob for the benefit of glossy photos), a format that makes it hard to read in bed.
This is a captivating, first-person description of life in Arctic Alaska. Of all the books I've read by Alaskans about their adventurous lives on this Last Frontier, this is the one of two set on Alaska's northwestern coast.
No review here (there are plenty from others), just a couple of highlights I want to remember. Kantner was in New York City to receive a literary award, and while he had visited New York before, any trip to the Outside could be trying after spending hours alone in the silence in the vast land on Alaska, not to mention those hours sometimes are days and sometimes weeks. Kantner described 6:45 a.m. in NYC: The sun was coming up, sickly through smoke-gray horizons, red and far across miles and miles of smokestacks and buildings. It was an unforgettable vision -- a warning of what human endeavor can do to the land.
A poignant quote: How many important things do we miss as we go pell-mell through life, from day to day pushed by those chores we believe imperative to our existence? One cannot deny the necessity of meeting our own physical needs, those of our family, and sometimes of our neighbor. However, it seems most of us are so intent on these that we pass unaware some aesthetic treasure that in itself can make the hardness of living worthwhile.
If you are looking for a beautifully written book with wonderful photographs of Alaska, I highly recommend: Shopping for Porcupine: A Life in Alaska, by Seth Kanter.
This book is part autobiography and part a historical portrait of Alaska and its people. Seth Kanter was born in 1964 and spent most of his life in Northern Alaska. His story begins with the arrival of his father, Howard Kantner, to the remote Arctic of the 1950s and ends with him as a grown man settled in the same landscape. The story is told through a series of moving essays and vivid photographs. The subjects range from family histories to hunting stories and celebrations of people and places.
This book is # 2 for the author. His first book Ordinary Wolves received great reviews, and I look forward to reading this book as well in the near future.
I read the first two chapters, then a chapter towards the end. While I often like accounts of Rural Alaska and the homesteading life, I could not get into this book.
There was just something about the author's tone that annoyed me. A seeming disdain for city folk and the larger society outside the Bush. As though there was something wrong with people whole wanted a life different than that of the one lived by the author's family.
The book sections I read were free of typos and richly illustrated with photos of scenery and people. There is a helpful Inupiat glossary in the front of the book.
Although this book wasn't for me, it might be for you if you are intrigued by a deep Bush experience and can set aside the author's apparent judgmentalism. Or decide Mr. Kantner isn't as judgmental as I make him out to be.
I'd give this 3.5 stars if I could. I loved "Ordinary Wolves", and just as in that book, this is deeply evocative of time and place. The landscape of bush Alaska is as much a character as the people in these stories--nonfiction essays about life in the same. It's such a different kind of life, and one that I find fascinating, that I loved reading each and every one. They certainly help explain how he came to write "Ordinary Wolves". The kind of life he led is one that, as he points out, really doesn't exist much anymore--but the kind of life that his father led in Alaska is even more (does that make sense?) extinct. If anyone thinks they live close to the land, they should read this book--it will make them reconsider.
This book made me miss Alaska. Although I never came even a little bit close to living the way Seth Kantner does in Shopping for Porcupine, the way he speaks of the land, the way he describes being alone in the Alaskan wilderness, and the way he grappled with the fact that technology is changing Alaska spoke to me. Although I could never live the kind of true subsistence lifestyle Seth and his family lead in the book, I can't help but be drawn to it. A good read for anyone who loves wild Alaska and wants to make sure it stays that way.
Lovely, simple snippets of what life was like before the rest of the world came to Alaska and modernized things. Sounds pretty idyllic but very very difficult. And cold. Luckily the author doesn't slam any it, just observes ad shares his memories.
Yeah, yeah, I know he won an award for his first book Ordinary Wolves, but I am going to argue it was for the original lens he brings, rather than acknowledgment of verbal prowess.
Because here's the thing: Kantner doesn't need to be a writer to make this book interesting. His life is so original compared to what we in the lower 48 experience, that the book is interesting just by way of being written by this particular man.
Kantner was born and raised in Northern Alaska. His father had moved up to Alaska, in love with the wildness of the landscape, and successfully started a family of "whiteboys" up there (Kantner's parents now live in Hawaii, and I do wonder what spurred that change). Life is extreme, the land vast and sometimes lonely. You need to pay close attention to the horizon at all times: what is going on with the caribou, with the clouds, etc., to ensure your comfortable survival. Living in handmade sod igloos and regularly having mice scurry across your face in the night doesn't sound like a barrel of laughs to me, but Kantner embraces where he is from, and writes un-apologetically about animal skin tack boards in the kitchen and eating bowls of bear fat for a meal.
I did enjoy that, as the memoir winds down, Kantner takes the time to discuss the changing landscape and how climate change has negatively effected his community. Kantner isn't just here to entertain us with stories of hunting moose and navigating tundra - he's here to remind us just how much is at stake to lose.
I have two questions after reading this book that weren't answered: what's the bathroom situation, and do you ever really see your feet?
Some time ago, I was idly browsing through Google Maps and came upon Alert, Canada, the northermost point of the continent. What was it like up there, I wondered? My fascination with Inuit and northern cultures grew, but I couldn't find more information about it. This is a fantastic book chronicling the mindset and life of people who left the lower 48 and lived off the land in Alaska in the 60s, 70s, and 80s. It's not a lifestyle I can ever imagine, but through Kantner's thoughtful essays and beautiful photos, I started to understand. Minus one star because it rambles in places, but even if you buy it just for the photos, I highly recommend. It's a gorgeous book.
50 States and At Least 50 Authors 2017 Reading Challenge. ALASKA.
Seth Kantner was born north of the Arctic Circle in Alaska. This is the story of his life in the wilderness near Ambler, Alaska and later in Kotzebue, Alaska. His parents raised Seth and his older brother Kole in what was known as a subsistence way of life (living off the land). Unfortunately, the skills of that life style such as hunting, fishing, trapping, skinning, making one's own clothing, etc. have vanished as more and more even the Inupiat people are adapting modern technology and all its materialism.
The best book I read in 2023. Rich stories of life in a different time, when the tundra was wild and people were few in central Alaska. Kantner’s recounts of his childhood - the daily slog, the people, the adventures - will stick with me for some time. Provocative commentary on the turning of time in a landscape where change is coming swiftly. Paired with some truly incredible photos that transport you straight into Kantners world.
Beautifully written. Kantner has a long standing respect for the Inupiaq ways. From the inside flap, I quote an endorsement - written better than I can: ...cold nights on caribou hides, swimming in the ice floes for wounded water fowl, , home schooling, and fur clad travelers stopping with their dog teams for visits." Kantner captures the land in breathtaking photographs. "This is an Alaska most of us will never know."
I really loved this book! It was fascinating and the photography was excellent! The way he grew up in Alaska and the descriptions of hunting fishing the igloos the mice the whole thing is awesome!i will definitely read anything else he writes!
An amazing memoir by an author who was raised in a sod igloo, living the old, Inuit ways. The book is an ode to a way of life that is gone. The photographs are stunning!
I picked up this book in Juneau, interested to learn more about Alaksa. It's a fascinating look at the subsistence lifestyle in Northern Alaska. It's so far removed from my own experience that it's hard to imagine that people live like that in modern times. It's a slow read, but it fits for the topic. The author is authentic, sometimes self-deprecating but also humorous and poignant.
The individual chapters in “Shopping for Porcupines” are small, standalone essays. Some are memories, some are stories about or from other people, and some are Kantner’s ruminations on some small component of his life on the tundra. There is no strictly chronological order to the stories, though they flow loosely from Seth’s parents to his early life and into his adulthood. As other reviewers have noted, the whole book has the feel of an evening of stories with close friends rather than a memoir.
I was caught up almost instantly. Seth’s parents – fellow Ohioans – and their journey to a life of subsistence in an environment very different from the Ohio landscape utterly fascinate me. They and the other people in Seth’s life are portrayed with affection, respect and honesty that was a pleasure to read.
A real strength of the book is the way Kanter addresses the issues surrounding hunting, hunting regulations, and subsistence living. There are times Kanter casually mentions some aspect of his daily life (like trapping) that I found troubling or disturbing. But these things are presented in a way that aid in my understanding of the people of that region and their culture. Though Kanter never fully fleshes out his philosophy in its entirety (this may be partly due to his own struggle to make sense of the issues himself), he does offer enough to begin to understand the perspective of subsistence living and of those who live at the borderline of human culture and the natural world.
The physical book itself is unique among books I’ve read recently. It has a rather strange square shape, with low-gloss pages that have a lovely feel to them. And the photos –what breathtaking photos! Please, even if you have no interest in reading this book, flip through it for the photos. The images tie in beautifully with the stories and add dimension and context.
There are numerous little snippets of rumination and many photos throughout “Shopping for Porcupines” that really sparked my thinking about the tangled controversies of the region and about our relationships as humans with the (perhaps only mythical) “wild”. This ability to grab my imagination and utterly transport me to an alien landscape is a rare quality, and makes “Shopping for Porcupines” one of the strangest and best books I’ve read in ages.