What do you think?
Rate this book
The Eastern Shore
Ned Ayres, the son of a judge in an Indiana town in midcentury America, has never wanted anything but a newspaper career—in his father’s appalled view, a “junk business,” a way of avoiding responsibility. The defining moment comes early, when Ned is city editor of his hometown paper. One of his beat reporters fields a tip: William Grant, the town haberdasher, married to the bank president’s daughter and father of two children, once served six years in Joliet. The story runs—Ned offers no resistance to his publisher's argument that the public has a right to know. The consequences, swift and shocking, haunt him throughout a long career, as he moves first to Chicago, where he engages in a spirited love affair that cannot, in the end, compete with the pull of the newsroom—“never lonely, especially when it was empty”—and the “subtle beauty” of the front page. Finally, as the editor of a major newspaper in post-Kennedy-era Washington, DC, Ned has reason to return to the question of privacy and its many violations—the gorgeously limned themes running through Ward Just’s elegiac and masterly new novel.
200 pages, Hardcover
First published October 18, 2016
45 people are currently reading
484 people want to read
About the author
Ward Just
36 books83 followersWard Just was a war correspondent, novelist, and short story author.
Ward Just graduated from Cranbrook School in 1953. He briefly attended Trinity College in Hartford, Connecticut. He started his career as a print journalist for the Waukegan (Illinois) News-Sun. He was also a correspondent for Newsweek and The Washington Post from 1959 to 1969, after which he left journalism to write fiction.
His influences include Henry James and Ernest Hemingway. His novel An Unfinished Season was a finalist for the Pulitzer Prize for Fiction in 2005. His novel Echo House was a finalist for the National Book Award in 1997. He has twice been a finalist for the O. Henry Award: in 1985 for his short story "About Boston," and again in 1986 for his short story "The Costa Brava, 1959." His fiction is often concerned with the influence of national politics on Americans' personal lives. Much of it is set in Washington, D.C., and foreign countries. Another common theme is the alienation felt by Midwesterners in the East.
Ward Just graduated from Cranbrook School in 1953. He briefly attended Trinity College in Hartford, Connecticut. He started his career as a print journalist for the Waukegan (Illinois) News-Sun. He was also a correspondent for Newsweek and The Washington Post from 1959 to 1969, after which he left journalism to write fiction.
His influences include Henry James and Ernest Hemingway. His novel An Unfinished Season was a finalist for the Pulitzer Prize for Fiction in 2005. His novel Echo House was a finalist for the National Book Award in 1997. He has twice been a finalist for the O. Henry Award: in 1985 for his short story "About Boston," and again in 1986 for his short story "The Costa Brava, 1959." His fiction is often concerned with the influence of national politics on Americans' personal lives. Much of it is set in Washington, D.C., and foreign countries. Another common theme is the alienation felt by Midwesterners in the East.
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 30 of 84 reviews
October 29, 2016
3.5 stars rounded up .
You can see this place called Herman, Indiana, almost feel as if you are there in this town that seems to be dying - people leaving, businesses closing, not much happening at all. There's not an extra word here. The writing is concise, describing the place and following Ned Ayres from the fifties and for several decades, a newspaper editor for the town's paper. It's in many ways my kind of quiet story that's introspective and all about the writing and the characters. Ned leaves his town but never really seems freed from what happened when he makes a decision to accept a story that ruins a family there. He moves to Chicago, then Washington, DC , always on to a bigger paper, perhaps a bigger life but yet Ned's life seems as stagnant as the town he came from .
On the one hand it's about the newspaper industry, about what is news and what should be printed, what's a violation of privacy, about the ethnics of journalism and fading print media being overtaken by digital. On the other hand and mostly for me, it's as much about the man who sees a higher calling to what he does. It's not just a higher calling, but almost an obsession. He claims to be in love with the woman he loses, but yet he is more concerned with his life at the paper than with living life and having a loving relationship. He reminds me a bit of William Stoner (Stoner) believing there is something about his calling that is above all else. I found it quite sad. I had a hard time connecting with Ned as he is as emotionally distant from the reader as he was from the women in his life . The closest I felt to a connection was when as a young boy , he visited his mentally ill uncle who told him stories of the war . Ned's father tells him to "remember, they (the stories) are not factual". But yet Ned is taken with the stories. I have to admit, I was taken with this story in spite of the lack of connection to Ned, so I'll round up to 4 stars.
I received an ARC of this book from Houghton Mifflin Harcourt through Edelweiss.
You can see this place called Herman, Indiana, almost feel as if you are there in this town that seems to be dying - people leaving, businesses closing, not much happening at all. There's not an extra word here. The writing is concise, describing the place and following Ned Ayres from the fifties and for several decades, a newspaper editor for the town's paper. It's in many ways my kind of quiet story that's introspective and all about the writing and the characters. Ned leaves his town but never really seems freed from what happened when he makes a decision to accept a story that ruins a family there. He moves to Chicago, then Washington, DC , always on to a bigger paper, perhaps a bigger life but yet Ned's life seems as stagnant as the town he came from .
On the one hand it's about the newspaper industry, about what is news and what should be printed, what's a violation of privacy, about the ethnics of journalism and fading print media being overtaken by digital. On the other hand and mostly for me, it's as much about the man who sees a higher calling to what he does. It's not just a higher calling, but almost an obsession. He claims to be in love with the woman he loses, but yet he is more concerned with his life at the paper than with living life and having a loving relationship. He reminds me a bit of William Stoner (Stoner) believing there is something about his calling that is above all else. I found it quite sad. I had a hard time connecting with Ned as he is as emotionally distant from the reader as he was from the women in his life . The closest I felt to a connection was when as a young boy , he visited his mentally ill uncle who told him stories of the war . Ned's father tells him to "remember, they (the stories) are not factual". But yet Ned is taken with the stories. I have to admit, I was taken with this story in spite of the lack of connection to Ned, so I'll round up to 4 stars.
I received an ARC of this book from Houghton Mifflin Harcourt through Edelweiss.
November 21, 2016
3.5 stars. Here's the scoop on what I liked about The Eastern Shore:
*There's something oddly mesmerizing about the writing. The narrative drifts from from one perspective to another, from one thought to another, without being entirely true to chronology but generally moving forward.
*The focus is on print journalism. The main character, Ned Ayres, is an editor, and we see him through different time periods in his life in different jobs, starting in a small town and ending in Washington DC. The story is full of interesting insights and musings about journalism.
*There's a melancholy persistent loneliness to Ayres that Just depicts really well.
*Just does a great job evoking the feel of the decaying small town in which Ayles grew up, including his parents and their expectations.
Here's the scoop on why I landed on 3.5 stars rather than 4:
*It kind of petered out for me at the end, and started feeling a twinge boring. Still worth reading.
Thank you to Netgalley and the publisher for an opportunity to read an advance copy.
*There's something oddly mesmerizing about the writing. The narrative drifts from from one perspective to another, from one thought to another, without being entirely true to chronology but generally moving forward.
*The focus is on print journalism. The main character, Ned Ayres, is an editor, and we see him through different time periods in his life in different jobs, starting in a small town and ending in Washington DC. The story is full of interesting insights and musings about journalism.
*There's a melancholy persistent loneliness to Ayres that Just depicts really well.
*Just does a great job evoking the feel of the decaying small town in which Ayles grew up, including his parents and their expectations.
Here's the scoop on why I landed on 3.5 stars rather than 4:
*It kind of petered out for me at the end, and started feeling a twinge boring. Still worth reading.
Thank you to Netgalley and the publisher for an opportunity to read an advance copy.
September 2, 2016
There is a famous adage for novelists: “write what you know.” Ward Just has always done so and fortunately for his readers, he knows a lot. He launched his career as a print journalist for the Waukegan (Illinois) News-Sun, worked as a correspondent for Newsweek and The Washington Post, and fully understands the inner workings of journalism and its influence on Americans’ personal lives.
The Eastern Shore – his latest book – focuses on Ned Ayres, who hails from a humdrum Indiana town of Herman and defies his father, a judge, to become his hometown’s city editor. “Some people don’t live in the light of day,” Ned says at one point. “They prefer shadows, a natural habitat. Shadows become them.”
Ned lives in the shadows. There is almost an element of Henry James’ Beast in the Jungle in him; his is, in many aspects, a life unfulfilled. There are romances, yes, and there are high points, but mostly, his life is lived as a “procession of newspaper stories, ‘shorts,’ they were called.” One could say, in newspaper parlance, that Ned lives “below the fold.”
Accordingly, The Eastern Shore is a quiet book. It’s a book about stories – the stories we tell ourselves, the stories we invent, the stories that we create about others, and eventually, the stories that sustain us and give an organization and meaning to our lives.
Ward Just signals his intent by starting the book with Uncle Ralph, the brother of Ned’s father. Uncle Ralph is a veteran of the Great War, whose “memory was phenomenal, story after story rumbling from it in a husky baritone.” Problem is, the stories only have a kernel of truth in them. His father tells Ned to believe them if he wants to, but to remember that the stories are not factual.
As Ned embraces his life as an editor, he becomes – quite literally – the person who gives shape to the stories. It is he who identifies the high and low points of a person’s life and determines what will be revealed. Paradoxically, he reveals little of himself. “Editing was as invisible as the work of a careful tailor,” Ward Just writes. No trace of the editor is left behind. Yet as he ages, he is painfully aware that the newspaper business is dying, as fickle readers clamor for social media innovation. In essential ways, he is twinned with the business he gave his life to; soon, it is implied, neither will exist and only the stories will remain.
Those who are seeking a propulsive narrative that will raise their adrenalin would be better looking elsewhere. The Eastern Shore is a contemplative book, interweaving the themes of privacy and morality but concentrating most on one’s own inner stories. It is a fine addition to Ward Just’s many fine books (I recommend American Romantic, Rodin’s Debutante and An Unfinished Season for those who want to explore more.)
The Eastern Shore – his latest book – focuses on Ned Ayres, who hails from a humdrum Indiana town of Herman and defies his father, a judge, to become his hometown’s city editor. “Some people don’t live in the light of day,” Ned says at one point. “They prefer shadows, a natural habitat. Shadows become them.”
Ned lives in the shadows. There is almost an element of Henry James’ Beast in the Jungle in him; his is, in many aspects, a life unfulfilled. There are romances, yes, and there are high points, but mostly, his life is lived as a “procession of newspaper stories, ‘shorts,’ they were called.” One could say, in newspaper parlance, that Ned lives “below the fold.”
Accordingly, The Eastern Shore is a quiet book. It’s a book about stories – the stories we tell ourselves, the stories we invent, the stories that we create about others, and eventually, the stories that sustain us and give an organization and meaning to our lives.
Ward Just signals his intent by starting the book with Uncle Ralph, the brother of Ned’s father. Uncle Ralph is a veteran of the Great War, whose “memory was phenomenal, story after story rumbling from it in a husky baritone.” Problem is, the stories only have a kernel of truth in them. His father tells Ned to believe them if he wants to, but to remember that the stories are not factual.
As Ned embraces his life as an editor, he becomes – quite literally – the person who gives shape to the stories. It is he who identifies the high and low points of a person’s life and determines what will be revealed. Paradoxically, he reveals little of himself. “Editing was as invisible as the work of a careful tailor,” Ward Just writes. No trace of the editor is left behind. Yet as he ages, he is painfully aware that the newspaper business is dying, as fickle readers clamor for social media innovation. In essential ways, he is twinned with the business he gave his life to; soon, it is implied, neither will exist and only the stories will remain.
Those who are seeking a propulsive narrative that will raise their adrenalin would be better looking elsewhere. The Eastern Shore is a contemplative book, interweaving the themes of privacy and morality but concentrating most on one’s own inner stories. It is a fine addition to Ward Just’s many fine books (I recommend American Romantic, Rodin’s Debutante and An Unfinished Season for those who want to explore more.)
November 8, 2016
There are so many 5-star reviews on this book, but the story just wasn’t for me. It didn’t hold my interest and I thought the main character Ned Ayres was dull. I couldn’t bring myself to care about him or his life. I finally came to the realization that there just wasn’t enough of a story to keep going and gave up at 50%.
September 9, 2016
The newspapers are supposed to print the truth. But sometimes it is just “factual enough” and can cause harm to others. “My God, you think, what have I done? In all innocence. But innocence is not the excuse. Innocence is the cause. And we are appalled, those of us who are in charge. The others turn the page.”
Much of Ward Just’s tour de force is about the newspaper industry, and about the people who create or become the printed “piece.” And it also illuminates the fallout from scrutiny and intrusion. The protagonist, Ned Ayres, has been in the industry all his adult life. He started his career in his native berg of Herman, Indiana, the butt of many jokes about its provincial prejudices and Pleasantville-type pretensions, along with a brittle shield of cognitive dissonance. Ned later went on to be an editor in Chicago, and then to Washington, D.C. The powerful people who own the newspapers are the ones whose privacy is the most protected, but they thrive on exposing those who aren’t.
Ned Ayres grew up on the embellished stories his uncle told him about his years as a soldier in the Great War. At only 52, he lived in a nursing home, impaired from a grenade. Ned’s father, a circuit judge, known for his rectitude and dry wit on the bench, often reminded Ned that these were non-factual stories. Neddy didn’t care; he loved listening to his uncle, anyway, and these years may have been his inspiration for becoming a newspaperman, and even his reliance, occasionally, on stories that were “factual enough.”
Ward Just often writes novels that narrate at arm’s length—cool, rather detached, and emotionally indirect. However, compared to his earlier work, I think THE EASTERN SHORE is more intimate and stirring, although subtle--nothing overwrought or electrifying, but poignant and even bracing in its refined nuance. There were times that I felt a melancholy sorrow while reading, especially when Ned was recalling a newspaper story that destroyed a family and affected him for the rest of his career.
The theme and moral inquiry of sifting through others’ lives as a profession hit home with enduring concerns. Over the course of the novel, Ned and his personal and public life touched me with its authenticity. There wasn’t one false note in this quiet but unsentimentally tender story. The backstories are gently folded into the present time, and events and experiences of other characters that touched Ned’s life took on their own velocity. It was written in the third person, but the view from Ned’s perch (and those close to him) was key to engaging the reader. Ayres and the people close and peripheral to him came fully alive.
Ned’s profession informed the decisions he made in his private life, for better or worse. His ability to sustain a relationship was often interfered by the demanding work of the newspaper. Ironic, also, were the consequences of being the editor. He stood back from creating; he corrected, proofed, and chose many of the pieces, yet remained on the outside of the writers’ work. At times, he questioned the veracity of being the assembler, dissembler, attenuator, rather than the journalist/reporter.
“Editing was as invisible as the work of a careful tailor. No one outside the newsroom could say, Nice edit, because readers never saw the edit. They saw the results of the edit. The edit was the live heart beating against the skin, essential yet concealed, crafted to endure. It was the mirror of the sea.”
The power of this book, and Ward Just’s narrative, is the quiet, elegantly bespoke prose, straightforward but superbly metaphoric, and no tricks to move the reader via cunning or contrived drama. The beauty, tragedy, and triumphs of the human condition shone through with delicacy and strength, even rogue coarseness at times. “The reporter sought coherence, but there was no coherence…Whirl ruled. And the facts fell willy-nilly from an overburdened tree, yet habitually a few facts short. As for the newsroom cynicism, …the worst thing a reporter could be called was naïve. A parasol in a pigsty.”
Read it for the passages, for the pellucid prose, for the workings and the cultivation of the news and the people who control it. Read it to affirm the pleasure of an unassuming masterpiece.
Much of Ward Just’s tour de force is about the newspaper industry, and about the people who create or become the printed “piece.” And it also illuminates the fallout from scrutiny and intrusion. The protagonist, Ned Ayres, has been in the industry all his adult life. He started his career in his native berg of Herman, Indiana, the butt of many jokes about its provincial prejudices and Pleasantville-type pretensions, along with a brittle shield of cognitive dissonance. Ned later went on to be an editor in Chicago, and then to Washington, D.C. The powerful people who own the newspapers are the ones whose privacy is the most protected, but they thrive on exposing those who aren’t.
Ned Ayres grew up on the embellished stories his uncle told him about his years as a soldier in the Great War. At only 52, he lived in a nursing home, impaired from a grenade. Ned’s father, a circuit judge, known for his rectitude and dry wit on the bench, often reminded Ned that these were non-factual stories. Neddy didn’t care; he loved listening to his uncle, anyway, and these years may have been his inspiration for becoming a newspaperman, and even his reliance, occasionally, on stories that were “factual enough.”
Ward Just often writes novels that narrate at arm’s length—cool, rather detached, and emotionally indirect. However, compared to his earlier work, I think THE EASTERN SHORE is more intimate and stirring, although subtle--nothing overwrought or electrifying, but poignant and even bracing in its refined nuance. There were times that I felt a melancholy sorrow while reading, especially when Ned was recalling a newspaper story that destroyed a family and affected him for the rest of his career.
The theme and moral inquiry of sifting through others’ lives as a profession hit home with enduring concerns. Over the course of the novel, Ned and his personal and public life touched me with its authenticity. There wasn’t one false note in this quiet but unsentimentally tender story. The backstories are gently folded into the present time, and events and experiences of other characters that touched Ned’s life took on their own velocity. It was written in the third person, but the view from Ned’s perch (and those close to him) was key to engaging the reader. Ayres and the people close and peripheral to him came fully alive.
Ned’s profession informed the decisions he made in his private life, for better or worse. His ability to sustain a relationship was often interfered by the demanding work of the newspaper. Ironic, also, were the consequences of being the editor. He stood back from creating; he corrected, proofed, and chose many of the pieces, yet remained on the outside of the writers’ work. At times, he questioned the veracity of being the assembler, dissembler, attenuator, rather than the journalist/reporter.
“Editing was as invisible as the work of a careful tailor. No one outside the newsroom could say, Nice edit, because readers never saw the edit. They saw the results of the edit. The edit was the live heart beating against the skin, essential yet concealed, crafted to endure. It was the mirror of the sea.”
The power of this book, and Ward Just’s narrative, is the quiet, elegantly bespoke prose, straightforward but superbly metaphoric, and no tricks to move the reader via cunning or contrived drama. The beauty, tragedy, and triumphs of the human condition shone through with delicacy and strength, even rogue coarseness at times. “The reporter sought coherence, but there was no coherence…Whirl ruled. And the facts fell willy-nilly from an overburdened tree, yet habitually a few facts short. As for the newsroom cynicism, …the worst thing a reporter could be called was naïve. A parasol in a pigsty.”
Read it for the passages, for the pellucid prose, for the workings and the cultivation of the news and the people who control it. Read it to affirm the pleasure of an unassuming masterpiece.
September 20, 2016
With each book, Ward Just keeps getting better all the time. If this is how he's spending his retirement, it's time well spent. His protagonist, Ned Ayres, in his retirement is attempting his memoir, trying to make a book out of a life lived married as it were to his work as a news editor. From his earliest years in a small Indiana town, he knew what he wanted to do, and despite his father's wishes, pursued it successfully. There is Just's trademark disconnected style, evidence of his own experience as a reporter. But then again, as one character (beautifully named Gunnar Tribes) points out, it's not what is said but what is between the lines. Each section presents a vignette of Ayres's life, and while his choices are not conventional, they forge a life of his own choosing. Ayres also embodies the life arc of the publishing business, from its time of influence and power through its struggles to remain viable with the rise of the Internet. Highly recommended.
April 20, 2018
Ah, the joy of newly discovered authors! Last year I read Wallace Stegner for the first time and now it is Ward Just. I have had his books on a "to read" list for a few years but just got around to getting one from the library. Despite the overall lower rating for this book by others, I loved it! It got a little long winded in the 2nd to last chapter, but overall I thought the story of a newspaperman (an editor, not a reporter) was unique and has a very good perspective on things, and brings up a lot of good ethical matters that make me ponder about the role of the press and papers in society. I gave up reading the paper a few years ago, but might just resubscribe to one based on this book. We have gone from journalists to social media pundits. The books raises that question, along with privacy issues and really was much more than I had even expected with the book. It is a tale of a small boy from a small town, who never goes to college but begins working for a local paper and after about 20 years has been in his hometown, Muncie, Indianapolis and Chicago before making it to Washington DC. Some of what happened in his hometown still haunts him and may explain the way he is. But he was a person who put "the newspaper" before anything else in his life and when he will die he has no family since all his immediate family died and he never married, all because there was nothing more important than the paper. Lots to think about in this wonderful 200 page novel.
September 18, 2016
Ward Just writes about the heartland, middle America and those who populate it. He views this part of our nation and its people with a certain sensibility bordering on disdain. These people don't want to stand out, they are WASPS who don't allow for many differences, they marry pretty girls who soon age and are no longer attractive. They stay in the small home towns where they are born and never wander much further. Herman, Indiana is the place where this novel begins and from whence Ned Ayre came and can't wait to leave. When Ned visits Herman as an adult, he states that his red car is the only color that stands out in this dissolving town.
Ned is a bit oppositional as he defies his father by not going to college. More to the point, he wants to be a journalist and his father, a local judge, highly disapproves. Ned's father views journalists as the lowest of the low, the scum of the earth. Is this the fraternity to which his son wants to belong? This theme of father/son relationships is found in other novels by Just and like this novel, there is often tension and conflict in the family regarding the path that the son takes.
Portions of Ned's life are the heart of this book, beginning with his childhood and finalizing with his old age. I couldn't feel close to Ned, nor could I get a good feel for who he is. The writing is too postured, too concerned with defining the ambience and environment of the 'outside' and not concerned enough about who Ned actually is. There is too much about journalism for my taste, and how it evolves from pencil and paper to internet and social media.
Another issue I had was that there were no quotation marks in the book. I could follow who was speaking and what was being said, but it felt more like a gimmick than a necessity and I had to wonder why Just chose to write this way. I wish I could have enjoyed this book more but, ultimately, it wasn't my cuppa tea.
Ned is a bit oppositional as he defies his father by not going to college. More to the point, he wants to be a journalist and his father, a local judge, highly disapproves. Ned's father views journalists as the lowest of the low, the scum of the earth. Is this the fraternity to which his son wants to belong? This theme of father/son relationships is found in other novels by Just and like this novel, there is often tension and conflict in the family regarding the path that the son takes.
Portions of Ned's life are the heart of this book, beginning with his childhood and finalizing with his old age. I couldn't feel close to Ned, nor could I get a good feel for who he is. The writing is too postured, too concerned with defining the ambience and environment of the 'outside' and not concerned enough about who Ned actually is. There is too much about journalism for my taste, and how it evolves from pencil and paper to internet and social media.
Another issue I had was that there were no quotation marks in the book. I could follow who was speaking and what was being said, but it felt more like a gimmick than a necessity and I had to wonder why Just chose to write this way. I wish I could have enjoyed this book more but, ultimately, it wasn't my cuppa tea.
January 8, 2017
This felt like a very long 208-page novel. I'm not complaining, though, and it was all pretty wonderful. Is it a love-letter to the newspaper business? Is it a thinly-veiled memoir of Just's life, loves, career? Is it even a novel? Doesn't matter. The long chapters could be read as stand-alones, connected by the character of Ned Ayres, and although the jacket-copy suggests that the centerpiece is the ruinous effects of Ned's paper running a particular story, I'm not really confident that is the fulcrum. Perhaps. The best scene for me remains the one I cited in my status update: the late-night whiskey-fueled, grief-tinged conversation between Ned and the novelist, Michael, which could be read as a dialogue between two aspects of Ward Just's self. (Perhaps.) A Dangerous Friend remains my favorite Just novel, but I've been living with this one for 2.5 days and I liked this a lot. It's subtle, mature, and elegiac.
November 2, 2020
BOOK REPORT
OK, in my own defense, this was on the new fiction shelf at my library, and it was about print journalism, so how could I not??
Well, I could've not if I had but just looked at my list and seen I hadn't ever planned on reading it.
Which would've been the right road to take.
First of all, it was published in 2016. And the datedness of how journalism is depicted as both a practice and an industry in the early 2000s vs current (November 2020) is painfully apparent.
Second, it is written from the perspective of a (white) newspaperman of a certain age. Please know that I have a great, great respect from those who came before me. I wanted to be Woodward & Bernstein when I grew up. I wanted to be one of The Boys on the Bus. And, yes, I wanted to be a "kingmaker." I wanted to influence elections and politics, whether at the state, local or federal level. I wanted to make a difference: to afflict the comfortable and comfort the afflicted.
At one point, I--like our main character--believed I was married to the news. I am an excellent editor. I love a beautiful A1 layout. I think community journalism, when done correctly, makes a difference.
All of that said.....my goodness was this book boring or what? ***I quite literally passed out sober halfway through it. Now, to be fair, I was sitting on the porch in the warm autumn sunshine on a Sunday afternoon, having stayed up entirely too late the night before watching schlock British horror movies (yesterday was Halloween). But it wasn't just that. If I had stuck to my friend Frannie's rule about quit reading at whatever page old I am (54) when things got boring, I would've been much better off. Alas, because I was that far in I felt committed to trudge on.
VERY SHORT VERSION
Thinly disguised memoir/version of a print journalism career that, I guess, culminated in a stint at The Washington Post. Much navel gazing at a decision from decades past to publish a story about a town leader's past that led to "unspeakable tragedy." Never quite got why Our Protagonist & Others Involved got all twisted up about this one story, and/or why the national media descended. Maybe it was a time and place thing I can't understand? Ah, but, make me.....
I will give Mr Just this: He did make me want to go to Andalusia (no, not Alabama--but, y'all? how in the world did that town in Alabama get its name?) and see the Alhambra before I die. In addition, I get having a special relationship with an older relative who is not quite connected to reality as we are experiencing it.
However, he also made me loathe, even more, a certain sort of entitled and spoiled American aristocracy, one entitled to private clubs and deteriorating manses and the like.
Enough.
Two stars trending downward.
***"Passing out sober" in the middle of a book is one of my harshest critiques.
OK, in my own defense, this was on the new fiction shelf at my library, and it was about print journalism, so how could I not??
Well, I could've not if I had but just looked at my list and seen I hadn't ever planned on reading it.
Which would've been the right road to take.
First of all, it was published in 2016. And the datedness of how journalism is depicted as both a practice and an industry in the early 2000s vs current (November 2020) is painfully apparent.
Second, it is written from the perspective of a (white) newspaperman of a certain age. Please know that I have a great, great respect from those who came before me. I wanted to be Woodward & Bernstein when I grew up. I wanted to be one of The Boys on the Bus. And, yes, I wanted to be a "kingmaker." I wanted to influence elections and politics, whether at the state, local or federal level. I wanted to make a difference: to afflict the comfortable and comfort the afflicted.
At one point, I--like our main character--believed I was married to the news. I am an excellent editor. I love a beautiful A1 layout. I think community journalism, when done correctly, makes a difference.
All of that said.....my goodness was this book boring or what? ***I quite literally passed out sober halfway through it. Now, to be fair, I was sitting on the porch in the warm autumn sunshine on a Sunday afternoon, having stayed up entirely too late the night before watching schlock British horror movies (yesterday was Halloween). But it wasn't just that. If I had stuck to my friend Frannie's rule about quit reading at whatever page old I am (54) when things got boring, I would've been much better off. Alas, because I was that far in I felt committed to trudge on.
VERY SHORT VERSION
Thinly disguised memoir/version of a print journalism career that, I guess, culminated in a stint at The Washington Post. Much navel gazing at a decision from decades past to publish a story about a town leader's past that led to "unspeakable tragedy." Never quite got why Our Protagonist & Others Involved got all twisted up about this one story, and/or why the national media descended. Maybe it was a time and place thing I can't understand? Ah, but, make me.....
I will give Mr Just this: He did make me want to go to Andalusia (no, not Alabama--but, y'all? how in the world did that town in Alabama get its name?) and see the Alhambra before I die. In addition, I get having a special relationship with an older relative who is not quite connected to reality as we are experiencing it.
However, he also made me loathe, even more, a certain sort of entitled and spoiled American aristocracy, one entitled to private clubs and deteriorating manses and the like.
Enough.
Two stars trending downward.
***"Passing out sober" in the middle of a book is one of my harshest critiques.
July 30, 2016
"A properly edited page was a thing of beauty," thinks Ned Ayre, the protaganast of Ward Just's new novel The Eastern Shore. Contemplating his life dedicated to the news, trying to write his memoirs, Ned feels like an archaelogist 'assembing fragments of a dead civilization." The man who worked magic with his blue pencil, editing other's stories, could not create order from the threads of his life, his 'Rosebud' moment eluding him.
Ned's love of the news is an obsession that divides him from his parents and his lovers, a love affair that ends badly as the newspapers decline and close, no longer valued or profitable.
In this introspective novel, Just probes the stories of our life: the fictions we weave, like Ned's Uncle Ralph and his WWI stories that never happened, but which he believes happened; the untold truth buried because it does not make good press; the stories that should never have been told and ruin lives.
I was left feeling mournful and contemplative by this novel. I understood Ned's longing to break out of his small town, a place of changeless comfort and sureity. And I mourned his inability to make sense of his life.
Some will say there is not plot action, too much of the story is shared through story telling. But I was compelled by the novel; it recalled to mind many who dedicate their lives to something they believe in only to find after 40 years that what they loved has become meaningless and unvalued. How could anyone live without the news, young Ned thinks in amazement. Yet he lives into a world where the news and the great stories are left behind. Change betrays us all.
Between the lines we come to understand what Ned learned the hard way: the paper-thin line between all the news we need to know and all the news; how factual reporting can cross the line into the sacred and the private.
I requested this book through Edelweiss because several years ago I read Ward Just's novel An Unfinished Season and it left a lasting impression on me. I am even more impressed with Just after reading this book.
I received a free ebook from the publisher in exchange for a fair and unbaised review.
Ned's love of the news is an obsession that divides him from his parents and his lovers, a love affair that ends badly as the newspapers decline and close, no longer valued or profitable.
In this introspective novel, Just probes the stories of our life: the fictions we weave, like Ned's Uncle Ralph and his WWI stories that never happened, but which he believes happened; the untold truth buried because it does not make good press; the stories that should never have been told and ruin lives.
I was left feeling mournful and contemplative by this novel. I understood Ned's longing to break out of his small town, a place of changeless comfort and sureity. And I mourned his inability to make sense of his life.
Some will say there is not plot action, too much of the story is shared through story telling. But I was compelled by the novel; it recalled to mind many who dedicate their lives to something they believe in only to find after 40 years that what they loved has become meaningless and unvalued. How could anyone live without the news, young Ned thinks in amazement. Yet he lives into a world where the news and the great stories are left behind. Change betrays us all.
Between the lines we come to understand what Ned learned the hard way: the paper-thin line between all the news we need to know and all the news; how factual reporting can cross the line into the sacred and the private.
I requested this book through Edelweiss because several years ago I read Ward Just's novel An Unfinished Season and it left a lasting impression on me. I am even more impressed with Just after reading this book.
I received a free ebook from the publisher in exchange for a fair and unbaised review.
December 22, 2016
Ward Just's book thoughtfully assesses the state of American journalism by examining the decline of newspapers as a prime way by which we learn about the truth. It is a quiet novel that follows the arc of an editor's life, and through it, the life of newspapers. It is a sad book, as well.
did-not-finish-dnf
October 10, 2016DNF at 28%
Almost 30% into a 200 page book, I hadn't really seen evidence of the premise that was outlined in the publisher's blurb and the writing and storytelling were a bit choppy.
Almost 30% into a 200 page book, I hadn't really seen evidence of the premise that was outlined in the publisher's blurb and the writing and storytelling were a bit choppy.
June 7, 2017
This story of a journalist's life couldn't come at a more relevant time. With journalism changing so rapidly and under so much attack, Just's novel provides a fascinating look at the life of a man who was devoted to the craft, often at the expense of his personal life. It's slow pace won't appeal to everyone, but it is a thoughtful, character-driven novel that I loved, not in small part for its observations about the world of journalism. You can check out my longer review on my Goodreads Blog. https://www.goodreads.com/author_blog...
December 31, 2022
I enjoyed how all the story lines came together. Also liked how geography was so important in bringing in each character and how those location changes represented career trajectory for the main character. Saw the Eastern Shore as both a goal and the end of the road.
March 29, 2020
Very enjoyable introspective story of a young man from a small town who covered the corridors of power in Washington, eventually. Lots of colorful anecdotes and character portrayals, but the most appealing aspect was the writing. Ward Just has a wonderful way with words. A bit slow, but
a pleasant and thought provoking read.
a pleasant and thought provoking read.
July 20, 2020
Just barely finished reading this. The writing was lovely but the plot was a drag.
July 31, 2016
Love It or Hate It; Actually, Love It and Hate It
All of the Ward Just books I've encountered seem to be variations on "The Great Gatsby", just without Gatsby. Instead, we get to read the reflections of, and experience the world weary false-humble superiority of, an uber-midwestern version of narrator Nick Carraway.
This one is mostly insider v. outsider, midwest v. east coast, calm and dull v. in on the action. There is some reflection on privacy and the like, but plot is sparingly doled out. When reviews employ words like "languid" or "elegiac" or "masterly" in every paragraph, well, you've been forewarned. So, on the "hate" side let's put artificial, self-absorbed, and irony impaired.
But then, of course, there is the "love it" side of the ledger. Every page offers at least one, and often several, stunning or arresting descriptions, turns of phrase, or bits of business. Putting aside the fact that they are in service of nothing in particular, and realizing that you could read the book out of chapter order from back to front and not lose very much, it must be said that the word craft is remarkable. It isn't memorable; you won't remember any of it once you've closed the book. But while you're reading you are definitely aware of the fact that what you are reading is beautifully crafted. Melancholy, coyly contemplative, self indulgent, but beautifully crafted.
I mean, this author can really describe chestnut trees. Sometimes that's enough. Your call. (Please note that I received a free advance ecopy of this book in exchange for a candid review. Apart from that I have no connection at all to either the author or the publisher of this book.)
All of the Ward Just books I've encountered seem to be variations on "The Great Gatsby", just without Gatsby. Instead, we get to read the reflections of, and experience the world weary false-humble superiority of, an uber-midwestern version of narrator Nick Carraway.
This one is mostly insider v. outsider, midwest v. east coast, calm and dull v. in on the action. There is some reflection on privacy and the like, but plot is sparingly doled out. When reviews employ words like "languid" or "elegiac" or "masterly" in every paragraph, well, you've been forewarned. So, on the "hate" side let's put artificial, self-absorbed, and irony impaired.
But then, of course, there is the "love it" side of the ledger. Every page offers at least one, and often several, stunning or arresting descriptions, turns of phrase, or bits of business. Putting aside the fact that they are in service of nothing in particular, and realizing that you could read the book out of chapter order from back to front and not lose very much, it must be said that the word craft is remarkable. It isn't memorable; you won't remember any of it once you've closed the book. But while you're reading you are definitely aware of the fact that what you are reading is beautifully crafted. Melancholy, coyly contemplative, self indulgent, but beautifully crafted.
I mean, this author can really describe chestnut trees. Sometimes that's enough. Your call. (Please note that I received a free advance ecopy of this book in exchange for a candid review. Apart from that I have no connection at all to either the author or the publisher of this book.)
January 14, 2017
I feel terrible giving this book just three stars when everyone else gave it five, but in this case I think the failing wasn't with the author but rather it just wasn't my kind of book.
The Eastern Shore by Ward Just is about Ned Ayres, a newspaper editor from Herman, Indiana, and how being a dedicated journalist affects his life for all his days. The book is beautifully written and it's clear Just has a firm grasp on language, word choice and pacing. But for a book that is a slim 200 pages, it felt like forever to get to the end. Ned's story is a bit of a cautionary tale for anyone that loves what they do so much that they make no time for marriage, kids, meaningful friendships, hobbies or much of an outside life. Ned's professional life in the book stretches from the 1950s when the world was a very different place to around the 2000s. A tragedy happens early in his career that the book jacket claims to have resonated throughout Ned's life but I didn't get the impression that the particular moment was more than a learning experience rather than something that changed the trajectory of his life.
There are sections where Ned is musing about conversations and people he met and what they ate and what the waitress looked like and how he'd never been to Spain and so on, all lyrically written, but not exactly action-oriented. If you are looking for a book that is an exceptional guide to judicious writing, The Eastern Shore is without a doubt your book. But if you like action and a storyline that moves, you may find yourself frustrated at the Xanax-infused plot and pace of this book.
The Eastern Shore by Ward Just is about Ned Ayres, a newspaper editor from Herman, Indiana, and how being a dedicated journalist affects his life for all his days. The book is beautifully written and it's clear Just has a firm grasp on language, word choice and pacing. But for a book that is a slim 200 pages, it felt like forever to get to the end. Ned's story is a bit of a cautionary tale for anyone that loves what they do so much that they make no time for marriage, kids, meaningful friendships, hobbies or much of an outside life. Ned's professional life in the book stretches from the 1950s when the world was a very different place to around the 2000s. A tragedy happens early in his career that the book jacket claims to have resonated throughout Ned's life but I didn't get the impression that the particular moment was more than a learning experience rather than something that changed the trajectory of his life.
There are sections where Ned is musing about conversations and people he met and what they ate and what the waitress looked like and how he'd never been to Spain and so on, all lyrically written, but not exactly action-oriented. If you are looking for a book that is an exceptional guide to judicious writing, The Eastern Shore is without a doubt your book. But if you like action and a storyline that moves, you may find yourself frustrated at the Xanax-infused plot and pace of this book.
February 11, 2019
OK, but more a collection of interlinked stories than a novel.
November 7, 2017
I knew I'd like this book.
An editorial page editor I worked with years ago mentioned Ward Just's "The Eastern Shore" in a post on our newspaper's FB page. He recommended it, and he always had a good nose for good books. From what I remember, he edited the paper's book page. So, I figured I'd pick it up and whisk through 200 pages and see what unfolded in the 60-year career of a journalist named Ned.
The book moved as fast as an old sedan with a plot not too extraneous. Just's prose, though, made it better. His word-smithing kept it interesting, and as a former columnist who loves a turn of a good phrase, I enjoyed the joust Just had with words. Plus, some of Just's descriptions slayed me. Here's one:
"First, Ned had refused to enroll in college; next, he proposed a career in journalism. Judge Ayres (his father, dear readers) was enraged; he had seen newspaper reporters go about their work and was not impressed. They were downside men. He thought them cynical, and the cynicism was unearned.
"Reporting was a convenient way of avoiding civic responsibility. Much more convenient to write about a problem than actually devise a solution. They led disheveled personal lives. The judge called them cavemen, preferring to write about shadows on the wall than what was in front of their own eyes.
"They were hell-raisers and drinkers, and the idea that his son, so bright, such a nice boy, would choose that business was -- appalling, and worst of all his wife, Olive, saw nothing wrong with it. She said, Let Neddy chart his own course."
Downside men, drinkers and hell-raisers. Harumph. Quite the indictment.
But you know, it's true -- mostly.
A fun read, it was. And it went all the way until about a decade ago when newspaper journalism changed, I think, for the worst. Do more with less. Now, it's do less with less. Anyway, stick with "The Eastern Shore" to the very end, and in the twilight of Ned's career, you'll find this gem:
"News was now a function of the mill called social media, as if it were the proletarian version of the Social Register. But what did he know? He was an old man living in a very old part of the world."
I do know many Neds.
An editorial page editor I worked with years ago mentioned Ward Just's "The Eastern Shore" in a post on our newspaper's FB page. He recommended it, and he always had a good nose for good books. From what I remember, he edited the paper's book page. So, I figured I'd pick it up and whisk through 200 pages and see what unfolded in the 60-year career of a journalist named Ned.
The book moved as fast as an old sedan with a plot not too extraneous. Just's prose, though, made it better. His word-smithing kept it interesting, and as a former columnist who loves a turn of a good phrase, I enjoyed the joust Just had with words. Plus, some of Just's descriptions slayed me. Here's one:
"First, Ned had refused to enroll in college; next, he proposed a career in journalism. Judge Ayres (his father, dear readers) was enraged; he had seen newspaper reporters go about their work and was not impressed. They were downside men. He thought them cynical, and the cynicism was unearned.
"Reporting was a convenient way of avoiding civic responsibility. Much more convenient to write about a problem than actually devise a solution. They led disheveled personal lives. The judge called them cavemen, preferring to write about shadows on the wall than what was in front of their own eyes.
"They were hell-raisers and drinkers, and the idea that his son, so bright, such a nice boy, would choose that business was -- appalling, and worst of all his wife, Olive, saw nothing wrong with it. She said, Let Neddy chart his own course."
Downside men, drinkers and hell-raisers. Harumph. Quite the indictment.
But you know, it's true -- mostly.
A fun read, it was. And it went all the way until about a decade ago when newspaper journalism changed, I think, for the worst. Do more with less. Now, it's do less with less. Anyway, stick with "The Eastern Shore" to the very end, and in the twilight of Ned's career, you'll find this gem:
"News was now a function of the mill called social media, as if it were the proletarian version of the Social Register. But what did he know? He was an old man living in a very old part of the world."
I do know many Neds.
August 18, 2022
As a story, this is the sad memoir of a journalist named Ned Ayres. "Obsessed" (by his own admission) with the news business, Ayre leaves his small-town Indiana roots far behind, eventually becoming editor-in-chief of a thinly disguised Washington Post. In the process, he lets two love affairs, opportunities to travel, and, in essence, life itself slip away -- and never quite admits his regrets to himself.
The writing is thoughtful and beautifully understated, and the book does a masterful job of gliding in and out of time frames. As a journalist myself, I appreciated the questions it raises about my career. Is a newspaper really just, as Ned puts it, a restaurant with a "pris fixe" menu? Where does fact-finding end and privacy begin, and can the facts ever be found?
But ultimately, this book commits a cardinal sin of journalism: It misses the lede.
The real lede is Ned's waste of his life and the way he skates up to-- but ducks -- acknowledging that.
However, the gut-punch last line of the book jumps back to something else entirely, an article published early in Ned's career about a haberdasher in his hometown. A long chapter is devoted to this appalling lapse in news judgment. But then the entire anecdote is ignored -- except for one brief reference, in a dinner conversation, to "privacy" -- until the last line. If this article has haunted Ned ever since, we need some occasional flicks at this, some sense that the author recognizes that Ned is avoiding facing his guilt. The last line is just not earned.
In fact, even though the book is barely 200 pages, there isn't enough story to fill it.
The writing is thoughtful and beautifully understated, and the book does a masterful job of gliding in and out of time frames. As a journalist myself, I appreciated the questions it raises about my career. Is a newspaper really just, as Ned puts it, a restaurant with a "pris fixe" menu? Where does fact-finding end and privacy begin, and can the facts ever be found?
But ultimately, this book commits a cardinal sin of journalism: It misses the lede.
The real lede is Ned's waste of his life and the way he skates up to-- but ducks -- acknowledging that.
However, the gut-punch last line of the book jumps back to something else entirely, an article published early in Ned's career about a haberdasher in his hometown. A long chapter is devoted to this appalling lapse in news judgment. But then the entire anecdote is ignored -- except for one brief reference, in a dinner conversation, to "privacy" -- until the last line. If this article has haunted Ned ever since, we need some occasional flicks at this, some sense that the author recognizes that Ned is avoiding facing his guilt. The last line is just not earned.
In fact, even though the book is barely 200 pages, there isn't enough story to fill it.
May 5, 2017
THE EASTERN SHORE is a bloodless, rather bleak short novel, infected by the limitations of its protagonist, Ned Ayres. Starting out on his hometown weekly newspaper, Ayres aspires to be known as “the best blue pencil in the business” (p13). At the end of the novel, he has retired to the Eastern shore of Maryland after long service as editor of a major daily newspaper in the nation’s capital. Throughout his working life, he relied on the now-ness of newspaper work to insulate him from both the past and the future. Reporting, done Ned’s old-fashioned way – “pencil, paper, shoe leather” – it “discouraged speculation” (p57). And Ned wants to avoid what-ifs and might-have- beens in his own hermit-like personal life. His infrequent love affairs with intelligent, vivacious women can’t compete with the humming electricity of the newsroom and the aesthetic pleasure he derives from a snugly laid-out front page. Left alone to write his memoirs, Ayres finds his blue pencil has left no record and his own sense of privacy trumps the public’s right to know. Ward Just, however, has captured the inky atmosphere of newspaper publishing back in the day, explained why true newspapermen loved it, then chronicled print’s demotion to a legacy technology by the abrupt rise of the Internet.
February 16, 2017
Ward Just has written a clever chronology of a man, a medium, and a special piece of real estate on the isolated eastern shore of Maryland. All were born with potential, reached an apex, and slowly faded away. The central character is a newspaper editor who spends a career polishing the prose of others, but when he retires, he can't pen an original thought. His decline into irrelevancy parallels that of the newspaper business, which is rendered moot by social media and instant news. When our editor retires, he purchases the estate of his dreams, only to find it rundown..."still handsome but no longer stately." This is an engaging and thought-provoking book, written in a subtle, elegant voice. A rare pleasure to read.
November 17, 2019
I kept thinking this book was going to go somewhere, but like its central character Ned Ayres, it never really did.
For example, he might have gone looking for his girlfriend Elaine who died mysteriously in East Africa, but didn't. He might have set up a new media outlet instead of going down drearily with the old one, but of course didn't. I notice from the many plaudits that Just's concise clear writing is often behind the praise, but what good is that without a decent story-line?
I suspect the book is of more interest to a certain type of American; work-addicted, insular to the point where the world is centred in Washington DC.
To me - a very distant European - it is practically incomprehensible.
For example, he might have gone looking for his girlfriend Elaine who died mysteriously in East Africa, but didn't. He might have set up a new media outlet instead of going down drearily with the old one, but of course didn't. I notice from the many plaudits that Just's concise clear writing is often behind the praise, but what good is that without a decent story-line?
I suspect the book is of more interest to a certain type of American; work-addicted, insular to the point where the world is centred in Washington DC.
To me - a very distant European - it is practically incomprehensible.
January 26, 2017
I like Ward Just. I've read many of his books. This may be his finest. It is the story of Ned Ayres, a newspaper editor, as told through a series of half a dozen vignettes, each a chapter long, tracing different phases of his life, from a young boy in Indiana, through Chicago to a long career in Washington, D.C., and finally to retirement on the eastern shore of Maryland. In a astonishingly brief 200 pages, Just captures a rich and full life that is nevertheless achingly (and here is the magic) unfulfilled. I read the last paragraph at least 10 times. Rarely have I read words so true to a character. And so heartbreaking. A tremendous accomplishment.
July 15, 2022
Interesting story, quiet pace, a good break from heavy or complicated story lines. Still, there's a lot going on as the protagonist moves through his career. He makes one difficult decision early on that worries him throughout the book. A tough call, no clear answer.
I do take issue with his and the editor's decision to leave out quotation marks of any sort, which complicates reading. It was also sometimes hard to keep up with where I was in the timeline, since things switch up periodically without the usual cues of a new section or a telltale phrase to let the reader know that something changed. Still, a good read.
I do take issue with his and the editor's decision to leave out quotation marks of any sort, which complicates reading. It was also sometimes hard to keep up with where I was in the timeline, since things switch up periodically without the usual cues of a new section or a telltale phrase to let the reader know that something changed. Still, a good read.
February 27, 2019
This was a book club selection that sounded interesting and really wasn't. Of the six of us, two liked the book, four did not. But it made for a great discussion. The main character gave his life to editing newspapers, couldn't commit to a relationship (which ended oddly) and though a rather traumatic event colored his first job, it never really mattered or colored his life. He was so monotone, just a very dull protagonist with one dimensional life.
May 16, 2017
Ned Ayres, son of a judge, was never interested in any life except one in the newsroom. He began in his home town, Herman, and rose through many cities ending in Washington, D.C.
He was never interesed in writing, only editing, to the exclusion of a social life. Ned always looks for the next big story, ending on the Eastern Shore where he hopes to write his memoirs--not happening.
He was never interesed in writing, only editing, to the exclusion of a social life. Ned always looks for the next big story, ending on the Eastern Shore where he hopes to write his memoirs--not happening.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
June 5, 2017
I am not sure what the author's point was in writing this. The protagonist makes a life-changing decision that affects not only the life of someone he wrote about but others as well. I guess I thought I would learn how the main character's life was changed by his actions. Maybe I missed that part. Color me disappointed.
Displaying 1 - 30 of 84 reviews