Traces the author's progression from a novice to a seasoned setnet fisherman on the coast of remote Alaska, where he became skilled in the trade's perilous tasks at the side of a colorful group of hard-living companions. 35,000 first printing.
Bill Carter, a native Californian, is an award-winning documentary filmmaker, photographer and journalist. He's the director of the documentary film, MISS SARAJEVO (produced by Bono of the Irish rock band U2) and author of the books FOOLS RUSH IN and RED SUMMER.
[3 1/2 stars] Without an overall story arc or much revealed about the author's life, Red Summer reads as a slightly philosophical, sometimes political and very long National Geographic article about people you don't get to know all that well (except for Sharon, the boat captain who hires Carter). I oscillated between being fascinated and wondering why anyone would do this sort or work, especially if the money isn't good any more. Then I wondered why anybody would write a book about this sort of work.
Here's what reeled me in. First off, I appreciated the author's need to commune with open, rugged wilderness. His general outlook is that it's spiritually healthy to be in an environment where people are animals trying to survive like all other animals, which I find wise and necessary. It puts one in his/her historical place, one more out of respect than domination. The work is incredibly dangerous, especially considering the water is usually too cold and powerful to consider swimming to shore as anything but a last, desperate resort. Like many an excellent travel writer (Ryszard Kapuściński, etc.), Carter is simply a guy who survived, humbled to be telling the story.
His take on the many Native Americans is another interesting tributary. He has a compelling bit about how tied they are to the tides, how they can feel what the water is doing without needing to broadcast their expertise. He talks about meeting a Native (Kevin), who finally reveals he knew Carter when Carter worked in a Alaskan cannery, years & years ago. That experience is seminal in a trail of developments documented in Carter's phenomenal book "Fools Rush In". That it took so many conversations with Kevin to learn this news leads to a fascinating realization by Carter:
"When [Native Americans are] speaking, they often delay their response to a question, maybe ten seconds, a minute, or an hour. The effect of the delay can make them seem thoughtful and pensive. That may be true of some, but over the years I've come to realize that they just have a different sense of time. Or, said another way, Native Americans, unlike the people of more modern cultures, don't believe talking is the same thing as thinking."
As I've come to expect with Carter, the writing style is honest, conversational. Ultra readable.
While I didn't understand or like why Carter seems so distant from all of the people he writes about (it seems a little too respectful/journalistic), I respected this bit of distance by the end of the book. The greater point is that people work in the fishing industry or live in Alaska because they want it to be their little 'oasis' away from it all. The unforgiving climate is the ultimate opportunity for alone time - even a writer like Carter can't stay through the winter. His motto from these experiences is "do the work or leave". He does the work, then high tails it out.
I recommend this book to avid travel readers or people considering the nothing-like-it adventure of working in Alaska over the summer (and who have not yet thought of any other money-making alternatives).
Okay, it took me an absurdly long time to read, (in my defense, I got distracted by A Song of Ice and Fire,) but I did really enjoy this. I don't read enough nonfiction, which is kind of silly, because most of the time I do enjoy it a lot. I picked it up after hearing about it on the Rick Emerson show - given that in the past, I've picked up World War Z, Youth in Revolt, and Under the Banner of Heaven for the same reasons, I didn't think he'd steer me wrong - and my interest is extra piqued by dating a boy who is from Alaska and visiting Juneau twice in the last year.
The book was engaging, the people interesting, and the descriptions vivid. I never, ever want to fish commercially! Carter made it very clear that it is brutal, though, in its own way, exhilarating. I would absolutely recommend picking it up.
Having lived in Bristol Bay for 16 years, I was ready to jump all over the inaccuracies and exaggerations of this book. There actually were very few things that didn't ring true. I also thought a fisherman wouldn't be able to write eloquently about the intense experience of fishing in Bristol Bay or keep my attention. After reading the book in four days, I discovered the author was actually a writer who was fishing to make ends meet. I thoroughly enjoyed the format of the book and the gripping, enticing story was well told. and not at all overdone.
Another surprisingly good book by this author. A must read for salmon enthusiasts (foodies), fishermen, and lovers of a good adventure. So much humanity mixed with the ebb and flow of nature that I think I am rooting for the fish (and the bears - and I don't necessarily even like bears). Well done.
Interesting look at seasonal salmon fishing in Egegik, Alaska. The natural balance of the bay, rivers, and salmon is described with emphasis on its fragility. Carter makes clear the importance of nature above and beyond people. Bears always win.
With heightened awareness of all things Alaskan right now, this is a very entertaining look at life in a small fishing village. It is a rough way to make a living, and the book captures the personalities who populate the state.
Salmon fishing is a brutal way to earn a living, and yet some of those who do it can't keep away from it. Carter attempts to explain why, based on his 4 summers as a salmon fisherman in Egegik, a remote village in the Aleutians.
Two stars primarily for the language. Trying to weave my way past entire conversations and still get the gist of the book proved too tiresome, and I stopped halfway through. However, the non-conversational parts were interesting.
My favorite chapter was the one on Bush Radio--it is truly one of the pleasures of living in a small Alaskan village. It amounts to free air-time, loosely moderated by a DJ, where callers from any village in the listening area can call in and say what they want to say--usually leaving messages for each other, such as "Colleen, come pick up your moose," generally with no mention of last names, locations, or background. It is assumed that either Colleen is listening, or someone will tell her, and she will know exactly what to do when informed.
Growing up in Barrow, one of our favorite variations on Bush Radio was the weekly Birthday Program, sponsored by KBRW. For a couple of the summers we were there my brother was DJ. The typical conversation would go something like this: "This is the Birthday Program, you're on the air." "Uh, yeah. I would like to wish a very happy birthday to my Uncle Fred in Anaktuvik Pass, and my cousin Ben in Nuiqsut, and...that's all. Happy birthday, Uncle Fred. And a very happy birthday to anyone out there who has a birthday. Wait..." [followed by a lengthy silence while the phone was passed to the next relative:] "Happy birthday little Freddy!! We miss you! Happy birthday! Wait..." "Uh, Fred, sorry I didn't go hunting with you last week. Happy birthday. Wait.."
Sometimes the phone would be passed to 5 or 10 people in the house before the call was finally finished. It was quality entertainment every week, and it didn't cost a dime.
Loved it! Bill describes the life of the fishermen (and women) in remote, rural Alaska. I love the insights into another slice of life, offer by a writer who make it come to life. Very much worth the time.
My favorite quote from the book, "Do the work or leave." When you're in the middle of the Alaskan wilderness, this roughly translates to: "Do the work."
Carter's book is pretty well written and of interest to me personally as I am involved with the shipment of frozen seafood from Alaska. I was engaged until about page 120 when he started to interject his political commentary. I am not a big fan of that in any book, but especially when that commentary consists of worn-out, thoughtless rhetoric. In this particular case it seemed to be symptomatic of stretching out a book past its natural length as he also started to become rather repetitive in his descriptions of Egegik and his fishing there. I slogged through the last 100 or so pages to a uninspiring end that was more of a relief to reach than anything else. If you have an interest in this industry or part of the world then take a swing at it, otherwise leave this one on the shelf. A solid 2.5 stars if I could give it that on Goodreads.
Red Summer is a memoir of four summers spent fishing for salmon in a remote Alaskan village. The author traces his experiences from petrified novice crew member to accepted summer fisherman. It was interesting to learn about the highly-regulated salmon fishery of Bristol Bay and the backbreaking work required, as well as the colorful personalities of the isolated village, but the book becomes repetitive after a while.
I loved this book. If I am reading non fiction this is the type of book I will read. Read two of his books now and waiting for a third to arrive in the mail. Great story! Great writing! Great job!
Considering the subject I went into it knowing the author would preach. Surprisingly he waited 85 pages before he pushed earth worship and only one paragraph. It's actually a wonderful book until page 107 the chapter titled "The Food Chain". He claims we are "arrogant" because we think we are the most important species on the planet. Problem is we are the most important species on the planet. Being the only self-aware, sentient beings in the known universe I'd say we are the most important specie in the viewable universe. He calls hunters "overdressed and underschooled". Do something the author doesn't approve of and his arrogance comes shining through and his derision pours out. At the end of the chapter he wishes a man who had legally killed a mountain lion would die.
In the next chapter he snidely comments on how tourists get to Alaska, cruise ships etc... He then condemns the gas, oil and mining companies. He tells us that they "rape, pillage and excavate". Keep in mind this state is 2 and a 1/2 times the size of texas and these companies use well under 1% of the land.
The next chapter starts out with him belittling the mayor of the town where the author lives in Alaska. The mayors crime? He watches The Price is Right. Proving he's an unwashed cretin.
I stopped reading at that point. Maybe he went back to the incredibly interesting subject matter he started with. I will never know.
Carved through my second of Bill Carter's while camping solo along the PCH. From my various campsites, I was taken aboard his fishing boat as thousands of pounds of salmon flopped around him, into the heart of Egegik and the tides surrounding the small Alaskan fishing town.
Carter's book is an enjoyable read and provides a thoughtful perspective on the sockeye salmon fishery in Bristol Bay, Alaska. He comes as close as a person can to capturing the seasonal subculture that arises around the fishery. A must read for anyone interested in Alaska or commercial fishing.
Brutal portrayal of the hardships associated with fishing for sockeye salmon in Alaska both on a personal level and on a societal level. It felt like the author had done a good job researching the topic. I'm not sure how I wanted it to end, but it didn't feel right.
So absorbing, it was like I was there. Seriously, sometimes I say to myself "remember that summer you spent salmon fishing in Alaska?" Then I remember this book and smile.
Excellent NF, which sometimes feels like reading fiction. A description might not sound fascinating, but this book is. I will probably read more of Carter's work.