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The Traveling Feast: On the Road and At the Table With America's Finest Writers
On the Road
meets Tuesdays with Morrie in this pilgrimage by "an American classic" (Newsweek) to thank his most important mentors through memorable meals and conversations
"Some years later, George Plimpton offered to punch me in the nose," recounts Rick Bass, remembering fondly a conversation with the famed Paris Review editor in his office, in which Plimpton, who had been slugged by Archie Moore, offered to connect Bass to a "hoary genealogy" that would include Ali and Frazier. Lineage has always been important to Bass. Before the punch-that-could-have-been, there was his failed bid to become Eudora Welty's lawn boy, and his first meal with Jim Harrison, during which he could barely bring himself to speak. That supper would eventually inspire this book, Rick's years-long pilgrimage to thank his heroes, and to pass on their legacy of mentorship to the next generation.
The poignancy of this journey of thanksgiving is intensified by the place in life at which Bass finds himself. He is nearing sixty, his daughters are now grown, and his wife of more than two decades, who accompanied him on that long-ago dinner with Jim Harrison, has called an end to their marriage. In the wake of this loss, Bass sets out, accompanied by two young writers, to recapture the fire, the hunger, that has faded from his life.
Eating My Heroes is a book about meeting one's debts in two directions--sending gratitude to the old exemplars, and a few contemporaries, from Peter Matthiessen to David Sedaris and John Berger to Lorrie Moore, while paying it forward to the next generation of writers, believing in and supporting them as Bass was by his own heroes. Each chapter in this fruitful journey recalls the meeting, the meal, and the history--the writer of the past and of the now.
From the disastrous pecan tart to the illegally transported elk meat to the photo op gone awry are many resonant moments. What emerges is a guide not only to writing well but to living well, to sucking out all the marrow of life, in Thoreau's immortal phrase. Eating My Heroes is a chronicling of the old ways, a cross-continent pilgrimage to show gratitude for a legacy of American literature and the writers who made it.
"Some years later, George Plimpton offered to punch me in the nose," recounts Rick Bass, remembering fondly a conversation with the famed Paris Review editor in his office, in which Plimpton, who had been slugged by Archie Moore, offered to connect Bass to a "hoary genealogy" that would include Ali and Frazier. Lineage has always been important to Bass. Before the punch-that-could-have-been, there was his failed bid to become Eudora Welty's lawn boy, and his first meal with Jim Harrison, during which he could barely bring himself to speak. That supper would eventually inspire this book, Rick's years-long pilgrimage to thank his heroes, and to pass on their legacy of mentorship to the next generation.
The poignancy of this journey of thanksgiving is intensified by the place in life at which Bass finds himself. He is nearing sixty, his daughters are now grown, and his wife of more than two decades, who accompanied him on that long-ago dinner with Jim Harrison, has called an end to their marriage. In the wake of this loss, Bass sets out, accompanied by two young writers, to recapture the fire, the hunger, that has faded from his life.
Eating My Heroes is a book about meeting one's debts in two directions--sending gratitude to the old exemplars, and a few contemporaries, from Peter Matthiessen to David Sedaris and John Berger to Lorrie Moore, while paying it forward to the next generation of writers, believing in and supporting them as Bass was by his own heroes. Each chapter in this fruitful journey recalls the meeting, the meal, and the history--the writer of the past and of the now.
From the disastrous pecan tart to the illegally transported elk meat to the photo op gone awry are many resonant moments. What emerges is a guide not only to writing well but to living well, to sucking out all the marrow of life, in Thoreau's immortal phrase. Eating My Heroes is a chronicling of the old ways, a cross-continent pilgrimage to show gratitude for a legacy of American literature and the writers who made it.
448 pages, Kindle Edition
First published June 5, 2018
63 people are currently reading
1282 people want to read
About the author
Rick Bass
117 books482 followersRick Bass was born in Fort Worth, Texas, and grew up in Houston, the son of a geologist. He studied petroleum geology at Utah State University and while working as a petroleum geologist in Jackson, Mississippi, began writing short stories on his lunch breaks. In 1987, he moved with his wife, the artist Elizabeth Hughes Bass, to Montana’s remote Yaak Valley and became an active environmentalist, working to protect his adopted home from the destructive encroachment of roads and logging. He serves on the board of both the Yaak Valley Forest Council and Round River Conservation Studies and continues to live with his family on a ranch in Montana, actively engaged in saving the American wilderness.
Bass received the PEN/Nelson Algren Award in 1988 for his first short story, “The Watch,” and won the James Jones Fellowship Award for his novel Where the Sea Used To Be. His novel The Hermit’s Story was a Los Angeles Times Best Book of the Year in 2000. The Lives of Rocks was a finalist for the Story Prize and was chosen as a Best Book of the Year in 2006 by the Rocky Mountain News. Bass’s stories have also been awarded the Pushcart Prize and the O. Henry Award and have been collected in The Best American Short Stories.
Bass received the PEN/Nelson Algren Award in 1988 for his first short story, “The Watch,” and won the James Jones Fellowship Award for his novel Where the Sea Used To Be. His novel The Hermit’s Story was a Los Angeles Times Best Book of the Year in 2000. The Lives of Rocks was a finalist for the Story Prize and was chosen as a Best Book of the Year in 2006 by the Rocky Mountain News. Bass’s stories have also been awarded the Pushcart Prize and the O. Henry Award and have been collected in The Best American Short Stories.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 102 reviews
June 21, 2018
3.5 Food, Books and authors, how could I not grab this to read? Loved the premise, Rick Bass, as a homage to his favorite authors, some friends, some mentors in his own career, by visiting and cooking them s meal. Accompanying him are a few young writer he himself is mentoring, and sometimes by his own grown daughter with writing ambitions. Along the way we learn a little something about his own career, and his own life.
Some of the authors he visits are the late and great Peter Matthiessen, who I need to read more of, as well as David Sedaris, Denis Johnson, now also gone and many others. He cooks them some fantastic sounding meals, some debacles along the way, and we learn some about the way they live and write. Loved when he visited Joyce Carol Oates, quite a spunky lady as well as a prolific author. Bit of a faux pas was committed at that dinner which she called them out on. As always, when reading a book like this I have added even more books to my read list, almost impossible not to do so. A very enjoyable, informative read, with some great details and descriptive scenery along the way.
Some of the authors he visits are the late and great Peter Matthiessen, who I need to read more of, as well as David Sedaris, Denis Johnson, now also gone and many others. He cooks them some fantastic sounding meals, some debacles along the way, and we learn some about the way they live and write. Loved when he visited Joyce Carol Oates, quite a spunky lady as well as a prolific author. Bit of a faux pas was committed at that dinner which she called them out on. As always, when reading a book like this I have added even more books to my read list, almost impossible not to do so. A very enjoyable, informative read, with some great details and descriptive scenery along the way.
December 7, 2023
Reread December 2023 -
because it was time to repaint my living room, which meant emptying bookshelves in order to move them, which led to carefully assessing and pairing down books when placing them back on shelves, picking this one up, and getting sidetracked reading it because I'd enjoyed it so much the first time I read it five-going on six years ago.
I loved revisiting the the part where Rick Bass went to prepare a meal for David Sedaris. I loved revisiting all the lines and paragraphs I highlighted. What a 5 years or so it's been. I hope all is well in the life of Rick Bass.
Originally Reviewed April 2, 2018:
A slowly savored read.
I took notes on my reactions. I made library lists along the way. I researched people. (In all honesty, I didn't know most of them.) I did something I don't usually do; I marked the heck out of my copy, dog-earing pages, underlining and highlighting passages.
Summed up: At 55, Rick Bass (I've already requested a stack of his books from our library system for my husband to read) takes a break from writing and sets out traveling the U.S. and Europe to thank the writing heroes and mentors who've helped him along his journey. In the spirit of gratitude, he aims to visit each of them and prepare for them a meal - not some easy, ordinary meal, but a meaningful gourmet feast. He also brings along some of the students he's now mentoring, building a bridge of sorts between the newbies and the greats through this prepared and shared meal and conversation.
The book is a documentation of that pilgrimage.
The way Bass reveals his personal struggles in his writing is deeply honest, human. The project is one of gratitude. It's something beautiful, seemingly simple, yet as the stories reveal, it's not so simple to line up a meeting with the busy people of today's world. And not so simple to travel great distances with perishable ingredients (especially meats / wild game). To travel to Europe with tenderloin you harvested and packed out of the mountains of Montana yourself, to prepare a meal for someone to show them thanks.. I marveled at it all.
Bass's writing is a celebration of writers and writing, but also of landscapes, history, and places. Of fine food, and the human condition; friendship, sharing, aging, growth, recovery, creating.
My kids have grown on an assortment of wild game, our freezer is filled much like that of Mr. Bass and I admit that this endeared me to the book early on, this celebration of eating from the earth the food that nature provides to sustain us. I did not know that Rick Bass is an environmental activist. This endeared me as well - he's the type of environmentalist. that I relate to, although that's not at all the emphasis of this book.
I like an author who loves bird dogs and knows wildlife and can rough it. But all that aside, the writing here speaks volumes on its own. Rarely have I read a book that has imparted so much wisdom on life and on writing. My manuscript proof asks that I don't quote the unfinished book, but it's loaded with treasures.
Five stars for the spirit of this book, for brilliant writing, and all the quotes and passages that blew me away with their truth and beauty.
*I received a print proof from Little, Brown and Company via Goodreads Giveaway.
Many thanks.
because it was time to repaint my living room, which meant emptying bookshelves in order to move them, which led to carefully assessing and pairing down books when placing them back on shelves, picking this one up, and getting sidetracked reading it because I'd enjoyed it so much the first time I read it five-going on six years ago.
I loved revisiting the the part where Rick Bass went to prepare a meal for David Sedaris. I loved revisiting all the lines and paragraphs I highlighted. What a 5 years or so it's been. I hope all is well in the life of Rick Bass.
Originally Reviewed April 2, 2018:
A slowly savored read.
I took notes on my reactions. I made library lists along the way. I researched people. (In all honesty, I didn't know most of them.) I did something I don't usually do; I marked the heck out of my copy, dog-earing pages, underlining and highlighting passages.
Summed up: At 55, Rick Bass (I've already requested a stack of his books from our library system for my husband to read) takes a break from writing and sets out traveling the U.S. and Europe to thank the writing heroes and mentors who've helped him along his journey. In the spirit of gratitude, he aims to visit each of them and prepare for them a meal - not some easy, ordinary meal, but a meaningful gourmet feast. He also brings along some of the students he's now mentoring, building a bridge of sorts between the newbies and the greats through this prepared and shared meal and conversation.
The book is a documentation of that pilgrimage.
The way Bass reveals his personal struggles in his writing is deeply honest, human. The project is one of gratitude. It's something beautiful, seemingly simple, yet as the stories reveal, it's not so simple to line up a meeting with the busy people of today's world. And not so simple to travel great distances with perishable ingredients (especially meats / wild game). To travel to Europe with tenderloin you harvested and packed out of the mountains of Montana yourself, to prepare a meal for someone to show them thanks.. I marveled at it all.
Bass's writing is a celebration of writers and writing, but also of landscapes, history, and places. Of fine food, and the human condition; friendship, sharing, aging, growth, recovery, creating.
My kids have grown on an assortment of wild game, our freezer is filled much like that of Mr. Bass and I admit that this endeared me to the book early on, this celebration of eating from the earth the food that nature provides to sustain us. I did not know that Rick Bass is an environmental activist. This endeared me as well - he's the type of environmentalist. that I relate to, although that's not at all the emphasis of this book.
I like an author who loves bird dogs and knows wildlife and can rough it. But all that aside, the writing here speaks volumes on its own. Rarely have I read a book that has imparted so much wisdom on life and on writing. My manuscript proof asks that I don't quote the unfinished book, but it's loaded with treasures.
Five stars for the spirit of this book, for brilliant writing, and all the quotes and passages that blew me away with their truth and beauty.
*I received a print proof from Little, Brown and Company via Goodreads Giveaway.
Many thanks.
Read
August 14, 2022His cooking skills seem to have drastically improved over the years…
More thoughts here: https://youtu.be/S77O3-w02mE
More thoughts here: https://youtu.be/S77O3-w02mE
August 2, 2018
If this book were a TV show it would be a cross between an Anthony Bourdain travelogue and Seinfeld’s Comedians in Cars Getting Coffee. I can see Anthony engaging in this quest. Instead of comedians we have renowned writers with writer Rick Bass traveling to their homes to prepare a meal for them as gratitude for being a mentor or a role model. Bass takes young writers he is mentoring along as well. So it’s a road trip book, a food book, a writing clinic, and a meditation on growing older and passing the baton to the next generation. Time is running out though as far too many of the writers are not long for this earth.
Bass bares his soul. A geologist turned writer and activist he relishes his time in a remote rural retreat in Northwestern Montana. We meet his daughters as he pines for his former wife. Despite being an intimate window into his personal and professional life we never learn the reason for the divorce. I’m not sure if I’d like to go on a road trip with him either. Anxiety, ineptitude, and joie de vivre are all chronicled straightforwardly. I inferred that writing is hard work and rewriting is even harder work. We go to the American West and to the center of publishing, New York City, as well as the South of Faulkner and also abroad. It’s a delightful trip into the homes of some of the world’s most creative and accomplished writers and artisans. It’s in the now and it’s an embrace of memory and nostalgia too.
Bass bares his soul. A geologist turned writer and activist he relishes his time in a remote rural retreat in Northwestern Montana. We meet his daughters as he pines for his former wife. Despite being an intimate window into his personal and professional life we never learn the reason for the divorce. I’m not sure if I’d like to go on a road trip with him either. Anxiety, ineptitude, and joie de vivre are all chronicled straightforwardly. I inferred that writing is hard work and rewriting is even harder work. We go to the American West and to the center of publishing, New York City, as well as the South of Faulkner and also abroad. It’s a delightful trip into the homes of some of the world’s most creative and accomplished writers and artisans. It’s in the now and it’s an embrace of memory and nostalgia too.
November 4, 2020
https://rogueliterarysociety.com/f/th...
...I was trailing a stream of heart’s blood wherever I went, but I had to keep moving...I wanted to learn, relearn, how to go after seconds, and then dessert, too: not just to survive, but to feast. And after a long time of not eating, I did begin to eat again...
There is no doubt in my mind that this book is the best writing Rick Bass has ever produced. Not that his previous efforts were at all wasted. Bass is a splendid writer. Important. Relevant. He has a great manner of speaking to his readers. But there are many reasons I believe this is his best writing ever, and for beginners I will list just a few of them:
1. This is a great adventure tale.
2. The devastating sadnesses of his divorce are inherently revealed, and his attempts at moving on with his life by dealing with it are met in relative, and not to mention, helpful detail.
3. Almost every chapter leads to revealing more things about writers I thought I knew and others I have never met.
4. What it means to be a writer of note, and why.
5. And finally how important food is, who you share it with, and the love involved in its preparation.
...make the measurements level; be attentive to moisture; refrigerate the dough before rolling it out. Most of all, though, don’t handle it too much, because the heat from your hands can destroy the potential for flakiness; as if there lies buried within you some curse that will ruin anything you try to hold on to for too long…
Traveling to visit his favorite writers, some of them mentors, others associates met along the way, and hauling along frozen wild meat he had harvested in Montana and other delectables in order to cook a meal for the people he appreciates and one they will never forget. The risks involved in this exercise do not remain unacknowledged as cooking in one’s own kitchen is one thing and doing it in an unknown and thus strange environment is purely another. It is a recipe for failure.
...I walk alongside him like a peer but I do not feel like a peer, I feel like a wounded comrade who is hiding his wounds and is not calling out for help. Who is pretending all is well…(I) failed at my marriage. I tried as hard as I could but failed nonetheless. And the fact that the standards were high does not diminish the heart-wrenching feeling of not reaching them.
For any reader to confuse self-pity with devastating sadness is out of touch with their feelings. And most likely fashioned from a life of denial or lack of experience with love, family, and even commitment. Rick Bass carries grief and sadness with him in these journeys that surpasses any degree of misery he may have suffered in the past. His wife of many years has divorced him, and the divorce is obviously something he never wanted and is attempting to come to grips with. Bass does not shirk away from these sad feelings, his shame and guilt for what may have been his own greatest acts of omission, and the loneliness ever present within her every absence along the way. Pretty much every story of each artist visited includes a reflection for what was, and still might have been between them, especially when tales include one of his two children with his beloved Elizabeth. Or when he visits with couples whose marriages have survived their many years together his pain lengthens into the longest days.
...One of his (Gordon Lish) dictums was to write the one story you are most afraid or ashamed of. (A variation on this assignment was to write the one story you’d write if you knew you could write only one more in your life.)...
By reading this book I have learned a few things about some people I thought I knew more, or even enough about. One is Gordon Lish. I had no idea he was ever married to Amy Hempel. That was a surprise. Bass claims Lish was. I did know Lish and Hempel were in a long-term sexual relationship. He often touted his fondness for her promiscuity and adulterous behavior with him while married to another. Through more than twenty years of friendship I understood that Gordon seemed to crave sexual relationships with married women. I came to understand it was a sort of Lish power move, and more about making the man back at home into a cuckold than anything else. Sex was admittedly the driving force behind Lish’s writing and teaching. Everything Lish seemed to be involved with in my over twenty year friendship with him had to basically do with desire, be it sex, writing, food, or drink. Yes, according to Lish, Hempel and he were great friends, but they were lovers too. And then one day he announced to me their relationship was over. According to Bass’s accounting they returned to being friends and a deeper love remains and is shared between them. But who knows what is ever true regarding something Gordon Lish says? He lies a lot in his fiction. But throughout my long relationship with him I never found him to tell me something not true, however far-fetched it might seem. He did at times refrain from sharing too much, but he told me things I bet he never told others, careful to never spill the beans over something he may have still coveted.
...The best thing about being a writer is the isolation; the hardest thing about being a writer is the isolation…
Writing is a solitary endeavor. Sedentary if you are not careful. Unhealthy in many regards. Selfish for sure. Obsessively compulsive. A balance must be made. Priorities established. Boundaries made clear. Relationships nurtured.
...John (Berger) then—in a sedan outside a restaurant, smoking a cigarette, or on a motorcycle on a county lane in the fall—one understands why he is still as powerful as he is. Such a light can never go completely out...What is the nature of greatness?...
Greatness lies in incorporating all facets of good living into a lifetime of service to a muse or calling. Timeless expressions on the page do help to extend the possibilities for being historically remembered. The revered American author Jim Harrison's ultimate sign of literary recognition was his wish for his literary works to remain always in print, and so far so good. In addition to producing good books, I think also to be historically thought of kindly requires a personality like Harrison’s that is both interesting and attractive.
...Tom (McGuane), who has been sober almost four decades, is without a drink, but possesses what is surely just as much gaiety as was ever present in days of yore, giving the impression that the mirth is surely what has sustained him, and those nearest to him, in the hard times…
I discovered Tom McGuane in 1984 in an article published by the Detroit Free Press in which his newfound sobriety was being profiled along with his latest novel Something to Be Desired. From McGuane I discovered Jim Harrison, both Michigan-born writers (as I am as well) who attended Michigan State University together (which I avoided) and spent a lifetime as friends and fellow cohorts in all types of adventures beginning with the decadent and then moving into more mature indulgences mostly involved with food. Of course, segueing into reading Rick Bass came directly from reading these two icons who were instrumental in promoting the writing of their young protege. This also resulted in my introduction to Gordon Lish who first edited Rick Bass. And for a time after becoming a student of Gordon Lish I abandoned Harrison and McGuane due to Lish’s unfavorable projection of their literary merits. Over the last couple of years however I have rediscovered the importance of both of these fine writers and have rejected the Lish premise wholeheartedly and now consider the premise perhaps resentful and definitely ill-advised.
…Instead of seeing us off, Tom (McGuane) takes us down and shows us his writing space, a stone’s long throw from the main house. It’s a refurbished old homesteader’s cabin made of big logs that are well chinked...pass through the double-paned glass French doors and into a world of books. The one-room cabin is all bookshelves, all of them filled with hardbacks. In the corner closest to the water is an old desk...
I write anywhere, and whenever I can. Occasionally, in some of our remodeled homes, I have had a so-called office or studio, but nothing fancy. When available, just a spare room with a desk and my books. A few paintings on the walls perhaps, or photographs I have taken. Like me, artists such as Patti Smith also write anywhere and whenever they can. No need for the trappings of the writers profiled in this book. Even the author Rick Bass has a writing cabin of his own nestled out in the woods. Not that I wouldn’t appreciate having a defined studio of my own, but I might find it too distracting for the typical work at hand. I have always been a bricoleur at heart, in my homes, my constructions, and in my artistic endeavors. And I intend to stay that way. During a long-ago study of the British painter Francis Bacon it was amusing to me that he basically worked in a long and narrow closet, his paintings trampled as they lay on the floor, paint splatters everywhere, and complete chaos. But Francis Bacon produced some of the greatest art expressions the world has ever known. Monkeying around with a notebook tucked under your arm seems to me the best way to go. I remember reading about Jim Harrison writing his first novel Wolf while in traction recuperating after breaking his back from a great fall. Of course, Harrison eventually got his own studio or writing space and in the end actually died in one, hovered over his desk while writing a poem. Of course, the most famous writer’s den I have ever personally been in was Ernest Hemingway’s nest down in Florida’s Key West. My guess is that even if I were one day a commercial success I would still write as I do, anywhere and whenever I can.
...I have lost my edge, and the realization not just of how hard it is to go onto the page every morning and make something new in each sentence, but of how hard it is to keep that edge. To view the world always like a hawk…
The loneliness and shame connected with divorce and having your life upended is sometimes too much to bear. Energy is often zapped and reserves spent. Cathartic measures such as this traveling feast can do much to repair the wounded psyche and shake off the dust from standing vacantly still, frozen in time, reliving the past, and feeling the pain poignant in its own revealing. Rick Bass will emerge as all good heroes do, and gallantly get on his horse again.
...When she (Joyce Carol Oates) mentions Richard Ford, I ask if she’s heard of his dead-rabbit-swerve philosophy—of how, if one is to review books, there’s no sense in reviewing a book one doesn’t like. It’s akin to driving down the road and swerving the car in order to run over a rabbit…
Finally something I can wholeheartedly disagree with. Reading a poorly written book, even a bad book, deserves more than silence. If nobody rated any book they did not like every book would have a rating of four or five stars and not be a true analysis of what is and is not good literature. Opinions do matter. And, in fairness, it does not take long to find out which reviewers we do not need to hear from or read their words of wisdom regarding writing. Richard Ford, it is gathered, only wants to read reviews about books people like. This is another reason I haven’t completely read anything by Ford since his last great book The Sportswriter. One negative review of the traveling feast pertains to Bass’s inclusion of his marital failures and feelings, and how it doesn’t seem to go along with what the book was supposedly about. So, as important as his negative review is for people like him, he was obviously wrong on its merits, but that doesn’t mean his opinion does not matter and the negative review should never have been written. The travel feast was about Bass getting his appetite back, saying thanks, observing how others age as they live and get by, and feeling grateful and blessed to have known these people along life’s way.
...“The job of the poet is to remain indignant,” Terry (Tempest Williams) says…
It is also, in contrast I might add, important to review in the affirmative, if worthy, books most people seem to despise and reject. I read a lot of books. I feel it is my obligation as a reviewer to be honest and give examples of what I like and do not like. But I go into every book wanting to love what I read. I am disappointed to the nth degree when the book fails because of its own hype, promising to be much more than it is, and relying on lies from blurbs and publisher’s bullshit in order to sell books to a public that gives way too much credence to these protocols. I remember Richard Ford a few years ago being on the wrong side of history, aligned in the vitriolic camp of Tess Gallagher, bitterly accusing her husband Raymond Carver’s original editor Gordon Lish as being too tyrannical in his cutting, and in some cases rewriting, much of what was instrumental in gaining the great fame afforded to Carver as a minimalist writer of short stories. Subsequently Richard Ford has pretty much zero credibility with me. It is with great care and personal honor that today nobody can truly or negatively affect my own work, my reputation, or my thinking for the simple fact that I don’t need them or their approval.
...As we sit at the edge of the field I do not know that in less than three weeks, the one who started it all for me, Jim Harrison, will die from a heart attack on a Saturday night, seated at his desk, working on a poem. A poet’s death...“Death steals everything except our stories,” Jim once wrote…
There is no way in which to express how much I enjoyed this book. The fact of the primary network of Harrison, McGuane, Lish, and Bass is where I really began my serious literary journey was enough to queue my interest and to eventually get down to the business of reading this book. Bass has a lot of writing left to do, and he certainly knows how to live. My bet is he ages gracefully and becomes what he cherishes most in his eldest peers.
...When you have been away for a long time from a thing you love, it feels good to get back to it...
...I was trailing a stream of heart’s blood wherever I went, but I had to keep moving...I wanted to learn, relearn, how to go after seconds, and then dessert, too: not just to survive, but to feast. And after a long time of not eating, I did begin to eat again...
There is no doubt in my mind that this book is the best writing Rick Bass has ever produced. Not that his previous efforts were at all wasted. Bass is a splendid writer. Important. Relevant. He has a great manner of speaking to his readers. But there are many reasons I believe this is his best writing ever, and for beginners I will list just a few of them:
1. This is a great adventure tale.
2. The devastating sadnesses of his divorce are inherently revealed, and his attempts at moving on with his life by dealing with it are met in relative, and not to mention, helpful detail.
3. Almost every chapter leads to revealing more things about writers I thought I knew and others I have never met.
4. What it means to be a writer of note, and why.
5. And finally how important food is, who you share it with, and the love involved in its preparation.
...make the measurements level; be attentive to moisture; refrigerate the dough before rolling it out. Most of all, though, don’t handle it too much, because the heat from your hands can destroy the potential for flakiness; as if there lies buried within you some curse that will ruin anything you try to hold on to for too long…
Traveling to visit his favorite writers, some of them mentors, others associates met along the way, and hauling along frozen wild meat he had harvested in Montana and other delectables in order to cook a meal for the people he appreciates and one they will never forget. The risks involved in this exercise do not remain unacknowledged as cooking in one’s own kitchen is one thing and doing it in an unknown and thus strange environment is purely another. It is a recipe for failure.
...I walk alongside him like a peer but I do not feel like a peer, I feel like a wounded comrade who is hiding his wounds and is not calling out for help. Who is pretending all is well…(I) failed at my marriage. I tried as hard as I could but failed nonetheless. And the fact that the standards were high does not diminish the heart-wrenching feeling of not reaching them.
For any reader to confuse self-pity with devastating sadness is out of touch with their feelings. And most likely fashioned from a life of denial or lack of experience with love, family, and even commitment. Rick Bass carries grief and sadness with him in these journeys that surpasses any degree of misery he may have suffered in the past. His wife of many years has divorced him, and the divorce is obviously something he never wanted and is attempting to come to grips with. Bass does not shirk away from these sad feelings, his shame and guilt for what may have been his own greatest acts of omission, and the loneliness ever present within her every absence along the way. Pretty much every story of each artist visited includes a reflection for what was, and still might have been between them, especially when tales include one of his two children with his beloved Elizabeth. Or when he visits with couples whose marriages have survived their many years together his pain lengthens into the longest days.
...One of his (Gordon Lish) dictums was to write the one story you are most afraid or ashamed of. (A variation on this assignment was to write the one story you’d write if you knew you could write only one more in your life.)...
By reading this book I have learned a few things about some people I thought I knew more, or even enough about. One is Gordon Lish. I had no idea he was ever married to Amy Hempel. That was a surprise. Bass claims Lish was. I did know Lish and Hempel were in a long-term sexual relationship. He often touted his fondness for her promiscuity and adulterous behavior with him while married to another. Through more than twenty years of friendship I understood that Gordon seemed to crave sexual relationships with married women. I came to understand it was a sort of Lish power move, and more about making the man back at home into a cuckold than anything else. Sex was admittedly the driving force behind Lish’s writing and teaching. Everything Lish seemed to be involved with in my over twenty year friendship with him had to basically do with desire, be it sex, writing, food, or drink. Yes, according to Lish, Hempel and he were great friends, but they were lovers too. And then one day he announced to me their relationship was over. According to Bass’s accounting they returned to being friends and a deeper love remains and is shared between them. But who knows what is ever true regarding something Gordon Lish says? He lies a lot in his fiction. But throughout my long relationship with him I never found him to tell me something not true, however far-fetched it might seem. He did at times refrain from sharing too much, but he told me things I bet he never told others, careful to never spill the beans over something he may have still coveted.
...The best thing about being a writer is the isolation; the hardest thing about being a writer is the isolation…
Writing is a solitary endeavor. Sedentary if you are not careful. Unhealthy in many regards. Selfish for sure. Obsessively compulsive. A balance must be made. Priorities established. Boundaries made clear. Relationships nurtured.
...John (Berger) then—in a sedan outside a restaurant, smoking a cigarette, or on a motorcycle on a county lane in the fall—one understands why he is still as powerful as he is. Such a light can never go completely out...What is the nature of greatness?...
Greatness lies in incorporating all facets of good living into a lifetime of service to a muse or calling. Timeless expressions on the page do help to extend the possibilities for being historically remembered. The revered American author Jim Harrison's ultimate sign of literary recognition was his wish for his literary works to remain always in print, and so far so good. In addition to producing good books, I think also to be historically thought of kindly requires a personality like Harrison’s that is both interesting and attractive.
...Tom (McGuane), who has been sober almost four decades, is without a drink, but possesses what is surely just as much gaiety as was ever present in days of yore, giving the impression that the mirth is surely what has sustained him, and those nearest to him, in the hard times…
I discovered Tom McGuane in 1984 in an article published by the Detroit Free Press in which his newfound sobriety was being profiled along with his latest novel Something to Be Desired. From McGuane I discovered Jim Harrison, both Michigan-born writers (as I am as well) who attended Michigan State University together (which I avoided) and spent a lifetime as friends and fellow cohorts in all types of adventures beginning with the decadent and then moving into more mature indulgences mostly involved with food. Of course, segueing into reading Rick Bass came directly from reading these two icons who were instrumental in promoting the writing of their young protege. This also resulted in my introduction to Gordon Lish who first edited Rick Bass. And for a time after becoming a student of Gordon Lish I abandoned Harrison and McGuane due to Lish’s unfavorable projection of their literary merits. Over the last couple of years however I have rediscovered the importance of both of these fine writers and have rejected the Lish premise wholeheartedly and now consider the premise perhaps resentful and definitely ill-advised.
…Instead of seeing us off, Tom (McGuane) takes us down and shows us his writing space, a stone’s long throw from the main house. It’s a refurbished old homesteader’s cabin made of big logs that are well chinked...pass through the double-paned glass French doors and into a world of books. The one-room cabin is all bookshelves, all of them filled with hardbacks. In the corner closest to the water is an old desk...
I write anywhere, and whenever I can. Occasionally, in some of our remodeled homes, I have had a so-called office or studio, but nothing fancy. When available, just a spare room with a desk and my books. A few paintings on the walls perhaps, or photographs I have taken. Like me, artists such as Patti Smith also write anywhere and whenever they can. No need for the trappings of the writers profiled in this book. Even the author Rick Bass has a writing cabin of his own nestled out in the woods. Not that I wouldn’t appreciate having a defined studio of my own, but I might find it too distracting for the typical work at hand. I have always been a bricoleur at heart, in my homes, my constructions, and in my artistic endeavors. And I intend to stay that way. During a long-ago study of the British painter Francis Bacon it was amusing to me that he basically worked in a long and narrow closet, his paintings trampled as they lay on the floor, paint splatters everywhere, and complete chaos. But Francis Bacon produced some of the greatest art expressions the world has ever known. Monkeying around with a notebook tucked under your arm seems to me the best way to go. I remember reading about Jim Harrison writing his first novel Wolf while in traction recuperating after breaking his back from a great fall. Of course, Harrison eventually got his own studio or writing space and in the end actually died in one, hovered over his desk while writing a poem. Of course, the most famous writer’s den I have ever personally been in was Ernest Hemingway’s nest down in Florida’s Key West. My guess is that even if I were one day a commercial success I would still write as I do, anywhere and whenever I can.
...I have lost my edge, and the realization not just of how hard it is to go onto the page every morning and make something new in each sentence, but of how hard it is to keep that edge. To view the world always like a hawk…
The loneliness and shame connected with divorce and having your life upended is sometimes too much to bear. Energy is often zapped and reserves spent. Cathartic measures such as this traveling feast can do much to repair the wounded psyche and shake off the dust from standing vacantly still, frozen in time, reliving the past, and feeling the pain poignant in its own revealing. Rick Bass will emerge as all good heroes do, and gallantly get on his horse again.
...When she (Joyce Carol Oates) mentions Richard Ford, I ask if she’s heard of his dead-rabbit-swerve philosophy—of how, if one is to review books, there’s no sense in reviewing a book one doesn’t like. It’s akin to driving down the road and swerving the car in order to run over a rabbit…
Finally something I can wholeheartedly disagree with. Reading a poorly written book, even a bad book, deserves more than silence. If nobody rated any book they did not like every book would have a rating of four or five stars and not be a true analysis of what is and is not good literature. Opinions do matter. And, in fairness, it does not take long to find out which reviewers we do not need to hear from or read their words of wisdom regarding writing. Richard Ford, it is gathered, only wants to read reviews about books people like. This is another reason I haven’t completely read anything by Ford since his last great book The Sportswriter. One negative review of the traveling feast pertains to Bass’s inclusion of his marital failures and feelings, and how it doesn’t seem to go along with what the book was supposedly about. So, as important as his negative review is for people like him, he was obviously wrong on its merits, but that doesn’t mean his opinion does not matter and the negative review should never have been written. The travel feast was about Bass getting his appetite back, saying thanks, observing how others age as they live and get by, and feeling grateful and blessed to have known these people along life’s way.
...“The job of the poet is to remain indignant,” Terry (Tempest Williams) says…
It is also, in contrast I might add, important to review in the affirmative, if worthy, books most people seem to despise and reject. I read a lot of books. I feel it is my obligation as a reviewer to be honest and give examples of what I like and do not like. But I go into every book wanting to love what I read. I am disappointed to the nth degree when the book fails because of its own hype, promising to be much more than it is, and relying on lies from blurbs and publisher’s bullshit in order to sell books to a public that gives way too much credence to these protocols. I remember Richard Ford a few years ago being on the wrong side of history, aligned in the vitriolic camp of Tess Gallagher, bitterly accusing her husband Raymond Carver’s original editor Gordon Lish as being too tyrannical in his cutting, and in some cases rewriting, much of what was instrumental in gaining the great fame afforded to Carver as a minimalist writer of short stories. Subsequently Richard Ford has pretty much zero credibility with me. It is with great care and personal honor that today nobody can truly or negatively affect my own work, my reputation, or my thinking for the simple fact that I don’t need them or their approval.
...As we sit at the edge of the field I do not know that in less than three weeks, the one who started it all for me, Jim Harrison, will die from a heart attack on a Saturday night, seated at his desk, working on a poem. A poet’s death...“Death steals everything except our stories,” Jim once wrote…
There is no way in which to express how much I enjoyed this book. The fact of the primary network of Harrison, McGuane, Lish, and Bass is where I really began my serious literary journey was enough to queue my interest and to eventually get down to the business of reading this book. Bass has a lot of writing left to do, and he certainly knows how to live. My bet is he ages gracefully and becomes what he cherishes most in his eldest peers.
...When you have been away for a long time from a thing you love, it feels good to get back to it...
October 14, 2018
Like Going on a Singles-Only Disco Cruise and the "disco" Just Being a KC in a bathrobe and the Sunshine Band drum tech Soundcheck
I read the prologue and the chapters on Peter Matthiessen, Amy Hempel, Gordon Lish and Denis Johnson. Realized that it was just going to be a pleasant enough journey journal. The meals prepared sounded scrumptious (no actual recipes provided), but I wasn't getting the floorshow I wanted: sage advice from writers in a relaxed setting. The Lish chapter was useless in that Lish didn't even show up for the meal, the crew just handed his doorman a jar of beer and eased on down, eased on down the road. Like, wha'?? I mean, I was so let down that I just skimmed the Lorrie Moore chapter, if you can believe that.
I read the prologue and the chapters on Peter Matthiessen, Amy Hempel, Gordon Lish and Denis Johnson. Realized that it was just going to be a pleasant enough journey journal. The meals prepared sounded scrumptious (no actual recipes provided), but I wasn't getting the floorshow I wanted: sage advice from writers in a relaxed setting. The Lish chapter was useless in that Lish didn't even show up for the meal, the crew just handed his doorman a jar of beer and eased on down, eased on down the road. Like, wha'?? I mean, I was so let down that I just skimmed the Lorrie Moore chapter, if you can believe that.
October 21, 2018
Rick Bass has long been my favorite writer. When I want to feel better about the world, I turn to his writing. This book felt like I got to travel around the country with him and see the world as he sees it, which is a gift. Though in this book you also feel some of the pain he was going through, and it was like watching a great friend suffer. This book spoke to me as a teacher, a writer, a reading nut, and a parent and I loved every page.
September 23, 2023
A feast in and of itself, Bass writes comfortably with a nice sense of nostalgia meeting nature. I loved the bonds maintained and formed through a connection of love of literature and food. Bass has a great knack for describing landscapes and nature.
August 23, 2018
Rick Bass was one of my first literary loves/western heroes back when I was in grad school, but I haven't read him in years. In the time since I've been gone, Bass has ironed out some of the kinks in his sentences and deepened his metaphors; his use of language is sublime. The writing is rich and here, larded with grief--mostly for his failed marriage, but also for the march of Time. I don't quite share his instinct to lionize certain writers as "greats" and treat them as divine (I like my heroes to trod firmly on the ground), but there's an aching "what's it all about?" quality to this book that I appreciated. Welcome back, Rick Bass. It's good to have you home.
June 11, 2019
a guilty pleasure dit-on en anglais ? hâte de vous en parler !
September 14, 2018
I am absolutely in love with this book. Besides the fascinating vignettes about the writers he cooked for and feasted with, Bass creates a huge appetite for reading works of famous authors that--frankly--I had not known about.
October 2, 2024
Making meals for the heroes in your life - what a beautiful way to pay homage and give thanks and share the weight of lives lived - impacting one another. I really liked the short vignettes into his personal life at that moment - sprinkled in, deliciously without overwhelming the story of the trips. Of course, I really appreciate the exposure to authors that he mentions, eats with, talks about...several new (old) books on hold at the library now!
June 28, 2018
Acclaimed writer Rick Bass talks about hitting the road to visit his literary mentors — and feed them
Dallas Morning News, June 12
Written by Jenny Shank, Special Contributor
Rick Bass, the acclaimed Fort Worth-born, Houston-raised author of 30 books, has spent much of his life in Montana's Yaak Valley, where he advocates for conservation and writes brilliantly, often focusing on the wilderness and the people who inhabit it. Five years ago when Bass was 55, he was reeling from a divorce and as he writes, "I decided to take a break from writing and go on an extended pilgrimage."
Bass aimed to visit his writing mentors across the country and in Europe, bringing a handful of young writing students along so they could bask in the literary wisdom. "The plan was to cook a great meal for all of my heroes, one by one, and tell them thank you while they were still living."
The results, chronicled in The Traveling Feast: On the Road and At the Table with America's Finest Writers (Little, Brown, $28) are by turns ruminative, hilarious and melancholy. Bass visits iconic writers in their often-majestic habitats, including Doug Peacock's Arizona desert home, surrounded by petroglyph-carved cliffs; David Sedaris' house in "the meadow-scented green wonder of West Sussex;" John Berger's welcoming farmhouse in a lush valley under limestone cliffs in the Swiss Alps; and Barry Lopez's Oregon "cabin on the slope of a hill tucked back in the trees."
Bass' desire to serve his heroes game he's hunted and butchered himself provides comedic flair to his travels. If anyone can talk his way through British customs with a bag of once-frozen elk, now leaking blood, it's Rick Bass. But not even Bass can salvage a turkey that catches fire and explodes on the grill at Tom McGuane's Montana ranch, resulting in "turkey shrapnel."
I reached Bass on the phone in Troy, Mont., the closest town near his home in the Yaak, which he was looking forward to returning to "go hunt morels and burn slash" before preparing for the next morning at his writing desk.
Of all the meals you cooked for your mentors, which do you think turned out the best?
For Denis Johnson, we cooked pistachio-crusted halibut, this big, Texas triple-chocolate sheet cake, and a really nice gratin. All the mentors received the food so lovingly. But visually, this meal was really outrageous. The best tasting was probably the meal we cooked for Barry Lopez. [With "a length of elk backstrap from the Yaak," a sweet potato galette, and foraged oyster mushrooms.]
Your experiences often matched the personalities of your mentors. Tom McGuane's party was big, wild and funny, like his zany writing, complete with an exploding turkey. The Barry Lopez meal was contemplative, and as you described it, "intense," like much of his writing. Is this the way you framed it, or do these people's lives, on any given day, reflect the themes they capture in their writing?
I hadn't noticed that or thought of it, but you're right, that's how it was. I was in such a siege mentality, thinking, "I'll just cook the meal and try not to mess it up and then be present and experience the moment." Their personas did permeate the atmosphere and the conversation — but not in a forceful or manipulative way.
You were at a crossroads in your life during the years you traveled for this book, looking for insight about how to live and write during the next part of your life. Did you find it?
Yes, I think so, but it's nothing earthshaking or surprising. I was thinking, "Do I want Part Two of my life to look like Part One? That is, the daily grind, working hard, obsessing? At the time, I didn't think I did. I was looking for an excuse to explore the possibility of a more varied life. At one point in the book I ask, "What's the difference between 30 and 50 books?" I was primed to see [older writers] living with non-literary reflection, such as McGuane's fly fishing. But without exception, they remained committed to writing. You keep writing — you just work a little harder now that time's running out. You really try to make it count.
I've read the majority of your previous books, and this one might be the most personal. Was it hard to write about the dissolution of your marriage?/
Yeah, it was. Even in fiction you're writing about yourself, but there's no filter when you're writing nonfiction. It was definitely the most personal and it was hard. I was trying to be honest but also not say anything I wouldn't want anybody else to say.
Several of the mentors you visited have since died — Peter Matthiessen, John Berger, Jim Harrison and Denis Johnson. Each of these people, in your account, appeared content and fulfilled. Did you learn anything distinctive from the writers who would soon die?
Yes, I did learn something. If you're going to make a Saturday Night Live skit of it, with a death-o-meter, the closer somebody was to the end, the more reconciled they were with this stage of their lives. They did not regret their choices of having worked hard at writing up to that point. And they were still writing.
I thought I would diversify my life [after these travels] and do less writing and more fun things, but after being away from writing for four or five years, all I wanted to do was write.
Jenny Shank's first novel, The Ringer, won the High Plains Book Award.
Dallas Morning News, June 12
Written by Jenny Shank, Special Contributor
Rick Bass, the acclaimed Fort Worth-born, Houston-raised author of 30 books, has spent much of his life in Montana's Yaak Valley, where he advocates for conservation and writes brilliantly, often focusing on the wilderness and the people who inhabit it. Five years ago when Bass was 55, he was reeling from a divorce and as he writes, "I decided to take a break from writing and go on an extended pilgrimage."
Bass aimed to visit his writing mentors across the country and in Europe, bringing a handful of young writing students along so they could bask in the literary wisdom. "The plan was to cook a great meal for all of my heroes, one by one, and tell them thank you while they were still living."
The results, chronicled in The Traveling Feast: On the Road and At the Table with America's Finest Writers (Little, Brown, $28) are by turns ruminative, hilarious and melancholy. Bass visits iconic writers in their often-majestic habitats, including Doug Peacock's Arizona desert home, surrounded by petroglyph-carved cliffs; David Sedaris' house in "the meadow-scented green wonder of West Sussex;" John Berger's welcoming farmhouse in a lush valley under limestone cliffs in the Swiss Alps; and Barry Lopez's Oregon "cabin on the slope of a hill tucked back in the trees."
Bass' desire to serve his heroes game he's hunted and butchered himself provides comedic flair to his travels. If anyone can talk his way through British customs with a bag of once-frozen elk, now leaking blood, it's Rick Bass. But not even Bass can salvage a turkey that catches fire and explodes on the grill at Tom McGuane's Montana ranch, resulting in "turkey shrapnel."
I reached Bass on the phone in Troy, Mont., the closest town near his home in the Yaak, which he was looking forward to returning to "go hunt morels and burn slash" before preparing for the next morning at his writing desk.
Of all the meals you cooked for your mentors, which do you think turned out the best?
For Denis Johnson, we cooked pistachio-crusted halibut, this big, Texas triple-chocolate sheet cake, and a really nice gratin. All the mentors received the food so lovingly. But visually, this meal was really outrageous. The best tasting was probably the meal we cooked for Barry Lopez. [With "a length of elk backstrap from the Yaak," a sweet potato galette, and foraged oyster mushrooms.]
Your experiences often matched the personalities of your mentors. Tom McGuane's party was big, wild and funny, like his zany writing, complete with an exploding turkey. The Barry Lopez meal was contemplative, and as you described it, "intense," like much of his writing. Is this the way you framed it, or do these people's lives, on any given day, reflect the themes they capture in their writing?
I hadn't noticed that or thought of it, but you're right, that's how it was. I was in such a siege mentality, thinking, "I'll just cook the meal and try not to mess it up and then be present and experience the moment." Their personas did permeate the atmosphere and the conversation — but not in a forceful or manipulative way.
You were at a crossroads in your life during the years you traveled for this book, looking for insight about how to live and write during the next part of your life. Did you find it?
Yes, I think so, but it's nothing earthshaking or surprising. I was thinking, "Do I want Part Two of my life to look like Part One? That is, the daily grind, working hard, obsessing? At the time, I didn't think I did. I was looking for an excuse to explore the possibility of a more varied life. At one point in the book I ask, "What's the difference between 30 and 50 books?" I was primed to see [older writers] living with non-literary reflection, such as McGuane's fly fishing. But without exception, they remained committed to writing. You keep writing — you just work a little harder now that time's running out. You really try to make it count.
I've read the majority of your previous books, and this one might be the most personal. Was it hard to write about the dissolution of your marriage?/
Yeah, it was. Even in fiction you're writing about yourself, but there's no filter when you're writing nonfiction. It was definitely the most personal and it was hard. I was trying to be honest but also not say anything I wouldn't want anybody else to say.
Several of the mentors you visited have since died — Peter Matthiessen, John Berger, Jim Harrison and Denis Johnson. Each of these people, in your account, appeared content and fulfilled. Did you learn anything distinctive from the writers who would soon die?
Yes, I did learn something. If you're going to make a Saturday Night Live skit of it, with a death-o-meter, the closer somebody was to the end, the more reconciled they were with this stage of their lives. They did not regret their choices of having worked hard at writing up to that point. And they were still writing.
I thought I would diversify my life [after these travels] and do less writing and more fun things, but after being away from writing for four or five years, all I wanted to do was write.
Jenny Shank's first novel, The Ringer, won the High Plains Book Award.
September 3, 2018
Bass contemplates what his life's become as he pays tribute to and feeds his writing mentors. I was nourished by this book, which I found during a dry spell in my work. It reminded me of something a more generous Jim Harrison might've cooked up.
July 22, 2020
I picked this book up on a whim. I saw someone discussing some books written by Bass and I wanted to take a look at what the fuss was all about. While he was talking about Deer Pasture , I saw this book on sale and picked it up instead. When it arrived, I was a bit upset at myself for buying something I thought wasn’t for me. Then my work reopened and I needed a book I could pick up and put down easily. Naturally, this book was my choice. What I found was a rather touching collection of travelogues, reminiscences, and discussions. The sections with Tom McGuane and Peter Matthiessen were by far my favourite of the collection. There was really a lot to enjoy about this book. All the talk of saying goodbye, meeting your heroes and mentors, missing that chance to thank someone, and the passage of time all deeply resonated with me. Overall, it was a nice easy read, well worth the time. I’m looking forward to reading more from Bass.
While I really enjoyed the vast majority of the book, there is a slight bad taste in my mouth. Maybe it’s because I cannot really understand what Bass is going through. I can commiserate with someone going through a clear identity crisis brought upon by middle age and divorce, but parts of the book just seemed overly self-indulgent. That is really the word I would use to describe the book at its core. I completely understand the drive of the book, it’s clearly a pet project and naturally indulgent but there were moments of self-reflection that just seemed too indulgent. Almost eye-rollingly so. But hey, I guess that’s the point, someone going through something like that would be constantly reminded, constantly referring back to the points at hand.
All of this left me in a place I can’t quite say I’ve been in before: enjoying something fully while at the same time being wary and slightly annoyed by it. I don’t even know how to properly explain something I both wholeheartedly enjoyed but at the same time did not. Maybe that’s what I enjoyed about it. There was, in my opinion, a fault in an otherwise comfy book. Something there to annoy a bit but to not completely detract from my enjoyment.
While I really enjoyed the vast majority of the book, there is a slight bad taste in my mouth. Maybe it’s because I cannot really understand what Bass is going through. I can commiserate with someone going through a clear identity crisis brought upon by middle age and divorce, but parts of the book just seemed overly self-indulgent. That is really the word I would use to describe the book at its core. I completely understand the drive of the book, it’s clearly a pet project and naturally indulgent but there were moments of self-reflection that just seemed too indulgent. Almost eye-rollingly so. But hey, I guess that’s the point, someone going through something like that would be constantly reminded, constantly referring back to the points at hand.
All of this left me in a place I can’t quite say I’ve been in before: enjoying something fully while at the same time being wary and slightly annoyed by it. I don’t even know how to properly explain something I both wholeheartedly enjoyed but at the same time did not. Maybe that’s what I enjoyed about it. There was, in my opinion, a fault in an otherwise comfy book. Something there to annoy a bit but to not completely detract from my enjoyment.
September 25, 2023
In this day and age, I really appreciate hearing from people who know what they’re talking about. Rick Bass loves writing. He loves doing it, reading it, and talking about it. That much is certain, and I really appreciated the depth of his passion in this book. That said, I didn’t feel like this was much of a beneficial reading experience outside of seeing some great and passionate writing. This felt like a very personal journal that Bass accidentally left open on a table in a coffee shop or on the bus, just daring you to take a glance at it but not actually inviting you to do so. I’m glad there are writers like Bass in the world, and I’m glad he did this “project” and got to have such special meals with special people. But I’m still not convinced I really needed to hear about it.
January 4, 2022
A literary feast
July 6, 2018
This is my first time reading Mr. Bass. It started out strong, with an excellent premise and a stunning collection of subjects; however, I felt it did not focus on the subjects enough. I would have liked more.
That being said, it was a good read and I enjoyed it quite a
bit.
That being said, it was a good read and I enjoyed it quite a
bit.
February 21, 2019
At first I thought the author was a little naive and presumptuous when he contacted writers he admires and asked to come into their homes and cook a meal for them. But as I kept reading, I decide this grand gesture required courage.
Read
November 17, 2020So much to devour here. So many thoughts.
October 25, 2018
Over the years Rick Bass's writings described an idyllic family life in the remote Yaak Valley in Montana. While essentially living off the land, Bass pursued his writing, his wife pursued her art and they instilled a love of nature and the environment in their two young daughters. So this memoir is a jolt; Bass and his wife have divorced, his daughters are grown and have left home, and while the memoir includes memories and references to the Yaak, it is about Bass on the road far from his home.
The book's premise is that Bass will travel to the homes of different writers who inspired or mentored him and thank them by preparing a meal in their kitchen with the help of young writers that he is mentoring. This device allows Bass to also reflect on his own life.
There is great variety of writers and locales from cooking for David Sedaris in a garden type estate in England to Denis Jonson's remote home in Northern Idaho to meeting Joyce Carol Oats in Princeton New Jersey to visiting Gary Snyder in his beloved Buddhist inspired home in Nevada City. There is much description of the meals and his cooking, much discussion about writing with the different authors and narratives of both touching and awkward moments during the dinners. A reconnection with Barry Lopez and his wife Debra is an example of the touching moments, Bass and Debra were best friends and their respective daughters were close. The most awkward moment came during the dinner with Joyce Carol Oates when Bass's mentee takes a photo of Oates during dinner and Oates asks "What are you doing?" and then goes on to say "That's just not right, we're having dinner."
Another great telling was during the visit with Gary Snyder when Snyder's subtle impatience let Bass know that he was asking too many questions about what was Jack Kerouac really like
The book's premise is that Bass will travel to the homes of different writers who inspired or mentored him and thank them by preparing a meal in their kitchen with the help of young writers that he is mentoring. This device allows Bass to also reflect on his own life.
There is great variety of writers and locales from cooking for David Sedaris in a garden type estate in England to Denis Jonson's remote home in Northern Idaho to meeting Joyce Carol Oats in Princeton New Jersey to visiting Gary Snyder in his beloved Buddhist inspired home in Nevada City. There is much description of the meals and his cooking, much discussion about writing with the different authors and narratives of both touching and awkward moments during the dinners. A reconnection with Barry Lopez and his wife Debra is an example of the touching moments, Bass and Debra were best friends and their respective daughters were close. The most awkward moment came during the dinner with Joyce Carol Oates when Bass's mentee takes a photo of Oates during dinner and Oates asks "What are you doing?" and then goes on to say "That's just not right, we're having dinner."
Another great telling was during the visit with Gary Snyder when Snyder's subtle impatience let Bass know that he was asking too many questions about what was Jack Kerouac really like
August 10, 2018
I love Rick Bass's new book, "The Traveling Feast," for many reasons. It is a tribute to his writer heroes, an act in and of itself that is laudable . His plan - to visit his heroes and cook them a gourmet meal, while bringing along young writers he believes in - is such a worthy project. Also, the focus on nourishing food and long conversations at the dinner table gets to the heart of some of the most essential and pleasurable aspects of life. There are mishaps along the way, and some of Bass's missteps (e.g., a cooler blown off the roof of a car) could have been prevented with more foresight, yet all in all Bass is an honest recorder of his experiences as well as his own emotional landscape, which is refreshing. His word choice is exact; likewise exact is his understanding of the emotions and experiences he is conveying: a feat achieved through deep and careful thought. Despite its imperfections, I just love this book for what it stands for: appreciation for those who inspire us, appreciate for good food and good company, and a concrete example of the examined life.
October 31, 2018
Six stars. Seven.
I've loved Rick Bass since a friend gave me Into the Mountains in 1996. Winter was the first book I shared with my now-husband. Where the Sea Used to Be has hung with me for years. But my interest in Bass's newer pieces had waned.
Until now. I loved this book so much. Every sentence was beautiful. Every chapter a gift. It didn't matter if I'd heard of the writers/artists/mentors or not, Bass can create a magical story out of the most benign event. The details he takes note of and the way he describes them - Aah!
I wish I had a boxful of copies to give away.
I've loved Rick Bass since a friend gave me Into the Mountains in 1996. Winter was the first book I shared with my now-husband. Where the Sea Used to Be has hung with me for years. But my interest in Bass's newer pieces had waned.
Until now. I loved this book so much. Every sentence was beautiful. Every chapter a gift. It didn't matter if I'd heard of the writers/artists/mentors or not, Bass can create a magical story out of the most benign event. The details he takes note of and the way he describes them - Aah!
I wish I had a boxful of copies to give away.
November 19, 2018
ESSAYS/WRITING
Rick Bass
The Traveling Feast: On the Road and at the Table with My Heroes
Little, Brown and Company
Hardcover, 978-0-3163-8123-9 (also available as an ebook and an audiobook), 288 pgs., $28.00
June 5, 2018
A soul-examining pilgrimage of the search for lessons in moving gracefully, maybe even joyfully, from middle-age into later years, The Traveling Feast: On the Road and at the Table with My Heroes is the new collection of essays from Rick Bass that will make you hungry for all things that nourish. The Traveling Feast is part memoir, part lessons in craft, part naturalist activism, part cookbook, part travelogue, part recommended-reading list, and wholly a feast of language. As we prepare for our feasts this week, Bass’s new collection is art to be thankful for.
Bass, born and raised in Texas, began his career as a petroleum geologist in Mississippi, spending his lunch hours and spare time writing and haunting the state’s famous bookstores. The author of thirty books, Bass won the Story Prize for his collection For a Little While and was a finalist for the National Book Critics Circle Award for his memoir Why I Came West. His work has appeared in The New Yorker, The Atlantic, Esquire, and The Paris Review (his first acceptance!), among many other publications, has been anthologized in The Best American Short Stories, won multiple O. Henry Awards and Pushcart Prizes, as well as NEA and Guggenheim fellowships. Bass left Mississippi for Montana’s remote Yaak Valley where he has lived for thirty years and where he is a founding board member of the Yaak Valley Forest Council.
The essays included in The Traveling Feast, with sixteen chapters each devoted to an individual writer, including Peter Matthiessen (RIP), Amy Hempel, Denis Johnson (RIP), and Terry Tempest Williams, who has been an inspiration and mentor to Bass in his work and how to live a meaningful life. Chapter titles include “Russell Chatham, the Painter, Recently Hospitalized, Emerges from Seven-Figure Debt and Alcoholism, Ready to Paint,” “Lorrie Moore, Fairy Godmother: The Road to the Corn Palace; or, the Trail of Ears,” and “Joyce Carol Oates, Badass.”
The Traveling Feast is suffused with the author’s self-deprecating, wry wit, such as the time Bass attempted to become Eudora Welty’s yardman just so he could breathe the same air. Sometimes it’s laugh-aloud hilarious, as when the frozen elk Bass was smuggling into Heathrow began to thaw and left a trail of blood down the concourse.
There are no ten-dollar words in this collection but the prose is not simple; it simply rings true in a stripped-down aesthetic that reminds me of Raymond Carver, who is a presence in these pages. Simultaneously, The Traveling Feast is profoundly personal, Bass’s feelings raw and on the surface, working through the possibilities for the remainder of his years after a devastating divorce (“There can be something even more sorrowful than ghosts, which is the separation of the living.”) has left him mired in doubt and melancholia, casting about for comfort and catalyst.
This is where Bass’s heroes come in. In a quest for sustenance and restoration, he decided to take a break from writing to travel the country (and in a couple of cases, Europe) to visit writers who shaped him and his work. Bass took along a select few of his most promising workshop students and together they created wonderful meals (soup of fresh-dug parsnips with tarragon, butter, garlic, and vermouth; balsamic-and-fig glaze for the quail; jalapeño potato gratin with sweet potatoes, cream, garlic, and sage; ginger chocolate cake with buttermilk, applesauce, vanilla, and cinnamon) for his heroes, forging human connections through the timeless ritual of breaking bread together. Bass seeks wisdom from those writers who were “around at my beginning” and needs reassurance and inspiration from “the sight, the proof, that in the greats this fire is never extinguished.”
Bass is painfully honest about himself, writing that “shy men [and] women cannot live among people, nor should they try.” This is where the remoteness of Montana wilderness enters the picture.
“When you are shy like this,” he continues, “you want to come closer but cannot bear to bring yourself in. When you are a million miles out … you’re free to just to stand there and watch, and things that are ordinary to everyone else seem to your shy mind … beautiful. You feel like falling over on your back, upturned, like a turtle.”
Is there a better simile than that turtle? I think not.
Bass can make you blissfully drunk on language, contemplating how twenty-six letters can be arranged in such a way that both inspires and humbles, leaving you staring at the wall or into the middle distance, turning a phrase over and over again like a river rock to discover each contour while knowing with utter certainty that you’re going to overlook something in haste for the next treasure.
“Because I knew Denis [Johnson] to be a genius with his sentences and perceptions, I imagined he might not be wise that way with the rest of his life and with the allocations of his heart. But as with the best of meals, were fed what we needed, and strengthened.”
Happy Thanksgiving, y’all.
Originally published in Lone Star Literary Life.
Rick Bass
The Traveling Feast: On the Road and at the Table with My Heroes
Little, Brown and Company
Hardcover, 978-0-3163-8123-9 (also available as an ebook and an audiobook), 288 pgs., $28.00
June 5, 2018
A soul-examining pilgrimage of the search for lessons in moving gracefully, maybe even joyfully, from middle-age into later years, The Traveling Feast: On the Road and at the Table with My Heroes is the new collection of essays from Rick Bass that will make you hungry for all things that nourish. The Traveling Feast is part memoir, part lessons in craft, part naturalist activism, part cookbook, part travelogue, part recommended-reading list, and wholly a feast of language. As we prepare for our feasts this week, Bass’s new collection is art to be thankful for.
Bass, born and raised in Texas, began his career as a petroleum geologist in Mississippi, spending his lunch hours and spare time writing and haunting the state’s famous bookstores. The author of thirty books, Bass won the Story Prize for his collection For a Little While and was a finalist for the National Book Critics Circle Award for his memoir Why I Came West. His work has appeared in The New Yorker, The Atlantic, Esquire, and The Paris Review (his first acceptance!), among many other publications, has been anthologized in The Best American Short Stories, won multiple O. Henry Awards and Pushcart Prizes, as well as NEA and Guggenheim fellowships. Bass left Mississippi for Montana’s remote Yaak Valley where he has lived for thirty years and where he is a founding board member of the Yaak Valley Forest Council.
The essays included in The Traveling Feast, with sixteen chapters each devoted to an individual writer, including Peter Matthiessen (RIP), Amy Hempel, Denis Johnson (RIP), and Terry Tempest Williams, who has been an inspiration and mentor to Bass in his work and how to live a meaningful life. Chapter titles include “Russell Chatham, the Painter, Recently Hospitalized, Emerges from Seven-Figure Debt and Alcoholism, Ready to Paint,” “Lorrie Moore, Fairy Godmother: The Road to the Corn Palace; or, the Trail of Ears,” and “Joyce Carol Oates, Badass.”
The Traveling Feast is suffused with the author’s self-deprecating, wry wit, such as the time Bass attempted to become Eudora Welty’s yardman just so he could breathe the same air. Sometimes it’s laugh-aloud hilarious, as when the frozen elk Bass was smuggling into Heathrow began to thaw and left a trail of blood down the concourse.
There are no ten-dollar words in this collection but the prose is not simple; it simply rings true in a stripped-down aesthetic that reminds me of Raymond Carver, who is a presence in these pages. Simultaneously, The Traveling Feast is profoundly personal, Bass’s feelings raw and on the surface, working through the possibilities for the remainder of his years after a devastating divorce (“There can be something even more sorrowful than ghosts, which is the separation of the living.”) has left him mired in doubt and melancholia, casting about for comfort and catalyst.
This is where Bass’s heroes come in. In a quest for sustenance and restoration, he decided to take a break from writing to travel the country (and in a couple of cases, Europe) to visit writers who shaped him and his work. Bass took along a select few of his most promising workshop students and together they created wonderful meals (soup of fresh-dug parsnips with tarragon, butter, garlic, and vermouth; balsamic-and-fig glaze for the quail; jalapeño potato gratin with sweet potatoes, cream, garlic, and sage; ginger chocolate cake with buttermilk, applesauce, vanilla, and cinnamon) for his heroes, forging human connections through the timeless ritual of breaking bread together. Bass seeks wisdom from those writers who were “around at my beginning” and needs reassurance and inspiration from “the sight, the proof, that in the greats this fire is never extinguished.”
Bass is painfully honest about himself, writing that “shy men [and] women cannot live among people, nor should they try.” This is where the remoteness of Montana wilderness enters the picture.
“When you are shy like this,” he continues, “you want to come closer but cannot bear to bring yourself in. When you are a million miles out … you’re free to just to stand there and watch, and things that are ordinary to everyone else seem to your shy mind … beautiful. You feel like falling over on your back, upturned, like a turtle.”
Is there a better simile than that turtle? I think not.
Bass can make you blissfully drunk on language, contemplating how twenty-six letters can be arranged in such a way that both inspires and humbles, leaving you staring at the wall or into the middle distance, turning a phrase over and over again like a river rock to discover each contour while knowing with utter certainty that you’re going to overlook something in haste for the next treasure.
“Because I knew Denis [Johnson] to be a genius with his sentences and perceptions, I imagined he might not be wise that way with the rest of his life and with the allocations of his heart. But as with the best of meals, were fed what we needed, and strengthened.”
Happy Thanksgiving, y’all.
Originally published in Lone Star Literary Life.
Read
August 5, 2024a great book. comfy at times, also serious and meditative and funny. i'll flip through it again and write down every book or author they mention and have a good reading list for years.
August 5, 2018
Not what I was expecting, but nonetheless enjoyable. I thought, given the premise of the book, that there would be more focus on the authors visited, more direct quotes about their lives and their craft. Instead, the "heroes" often literally leave the room and thus the story, and the narrative is focused on Bass ruminating over his failed marriage and the unknowable future, both personally and professionally. While that may sound dismal, there are touching, optimistic, and laugh-out-loud moments (the turkey explosion) throughout that bring balance back to the book.
"But it seems to me an eye trained only for darkness makes for a lesser path, in art as in life."
Like another reviewer, I also wish that some of the photos and delicious recipes Bass describes in detail could have been included in the book, like a true travel diary, allowing the reader to have a seat at the table so to speak. However, given these small complaints or missed opportunities, perhaps the point is that things often don't go as planned or expected, in books as in life:
The Traveling Feast is an entertaining read and I would recommend it. Also, if you are looking for a book with a little more focus on several authors and their craft, I recommend Light the Dark: Writers on Creativity, Inspiration, and the Artistic Process edited by Joe Fassler.
"But it seems to me an eye trained only for darkness makes for a lesser path, in art as in life."
Like another reviewer, I also wish that some of the photos and delicious recipes Bass describes in detail could have been included in the book, like a true travel diary, allowing the reader to have a seat at the table so to speak. However, given these small complaints or missed opportunities, perhaps the point is that things often don't go as planned or expected, in books as in life:
"It's a great picture, like something taken fifty or sixty years ago, a happy family of four, nuclear as hell. And what is the difference, really, between what the camera shows, and what is? This evening, right now, we are happy, no less so for its being a complicated happiness. If things both are and are not as they seem, isn't that almost always the case? We are hard-wired to develop plans and to chart paths; yet whether it's a recipe or a life, surely some of the greatest pleasures come from veering away from how we thought a thing should be and into the freedom of that which was previously unimagined but is here now. The only thing you can do, at the beginning of each day, is work with what you have."
The Traveling Feast is an entertaining read and I would recommend it. Also, if you are looking for a book with a little more focus on several authors and their craft, I recommend Light the Dark: Writers on Creativity, Inspiration, and the Artistic Process edited by Joe Fassler.
August 5, 2018
When I heard about this book it sounded wonderful. After I read the prologue I was in love with Bass's writing and couldn't wait to get into the stories. The idea is that he would visit many of his writing mentors and make them a meal and chat. He would bring along a younger writer who he was mentoring. But although I did enjoy everything in the book, I wanted so much more. I wanted to be there as the mentee. Instead I felt a bit like kitchen staff. I loved the descriptions of transporting the foods, the preparation, the travel to get to each writer's home. There were warm greetings and sad departures at each stop, but I felt left in the kitchen when all the good stuff was going on. He even describes David Sedaris laughing and talking in the next room. I wanted to be in that room! I wanted to share in what was so funny. There are "words of wisdom" imparted from time to time, for eager writer/readers, but not enough for me to consider it a feast. Yet I can't deny there is some really beautiful writing in this book. For example, when he is visiting the The Zendo ( a tranquil compound ) of writer Gary Snyder, a place that is very significant in Snyder's life, Bass writes: "The three of us pass from room to room as if through the chambers of a heart." Sentences like that make me forgive spending most of this book in the kitchen. I learned more about Bass than the writers he took me to visit, but since I ended up liking him and learning from him, I suppose I was ultimately served a good meal.
July 16, 2018
From his bid to become Eudora Welty's lawn boy to the time George Plimpton offered to punch him in the nose, lineage has always been important to Rick Bass. Now at a turning point--in his midfifties, with his long marriage dissolved and his grown daughters out of the house--Bass strikes out on a journey of thanksgiving. His aim: to make a memorable meal for each of his mentors, to express his gratitude for the way they have shaped not only his writing but his life.
The result, an odyssey to some of America's most iconic writers, is also a record of self-transformation as Bass seeks to recapture the fire that drove him as a young man. Along the way we join in escapades involving smuggled contraband, an exploding grill, a trail of blood through Heathrow airport, an episode of dog-watching with Amy Hempel in Central Park, and a near run-in with plague-ridden prairie dogs on the way to see Lorrie Moore, as well as heartwarming and bittersweet final meals with the late Peter Matthiessen, John Berger, and Denis Johnson. Poignant, funny, and wistful, The Traveling Feast is a guide to living well and an unforgettable adventure that nourishes and renews the spirit.
The result, an odyssey to some of America's most iconic writers, is also a record of self-transformation as Bass seeks to recapture the fire that drove him as a young man. Along the way we join in escapades involving smuggled contraband, an exploding grill, a trail of blood through Heathrow airport, an episode of dog-watching with Amy Hempel in Central Park, and a near run-in with plague-ridden prairie dogs on the way to see Lorrie Moore, as well as heartwarming and bittersweet final meals with the late Peter Matthiessen, John Berger, and Denis Johnson. Poignant, funny, and wistful, The Traveling Feast is a guide to living well and an unforgettable adventure that nourishes and renews the spirit.
April 7, 2019
There were some threads in this that really resonated with things I’m dwelling in right now. To start, belonging, community, authenticity and interaction. He opens with a story of himself as a young man, a shy man in an office among office people with their rich cars and how he just didn’t belong. It reminded me of the hollowness I felt in tech.
Bass talks of his marriage falling apart and writes, “Until the pain lessens and you are glad for the sweet missing chunks that used to be wounds and are instead just pieces that are not coming back. It seems impossible to endure at first but after a long time I think you’d rather be haunted than not... it never stops, the remembering. Sometimes a moment will loosen vanished memories from the hardening matrix of my mind.” and he uses the example of cooling magma. This makes me return to Henri Bergson's Time and Free Will, his consideration of emotion as experienced and emotion as named, how we do some violence when we wrestle the raw-experiencing-of-life into words. I see a similar disconnect in his account of the real self (complex, changing, colorful) and the surface-level social self. Anyway, Bergson uses a metaphor of the thick crust of exterior/social influences that cover up our own sentiments of the deep self. Within the deep self, “a gradual heating and a sudden boiling overflow of feelings and ideas,” a roiling uproar of a consciousness that is non-sequential, can burst through the surface, the “outer crust.”
There is a theme of writing and literature as the salvific means of living, justifying a life, finding connection and meaning. His story of Dennis Johnson makes me think of Nietzsche’s Gay Science and the value of suffering, or, in Thus Spoke, “Creating—that is the great salvation from suffering, and life's alleviation. But for the creator to appear, suffering itself is needed, and much transformation.”
Bass talks of his marriage falling apart and writes, “Until the pain lessens and you are glad for the sweet missing chunks that used to be wounds and are instead just pieces that are not coming back. It seems impossible to endure at first but after a long time I think you’d rather be haunted than not... it never stops, the remembering. Sometimes a moment will loosen vanished memories from the hardening matrix of my mind.” and he uses the example of cooling magma. This makes me return to Henri Bergson's Time and Free Will, his consideration of emotion as experienced and emotion as named, how we do some violence when we wrestle the raw-experiencing-of-life into words. I see a similar disconnect in his account of the real self (complex, changing, colorful) and the surface-level social self. Anyway, Bergson uses a metaphor of the thick crust of exterior/social influences that cover up our own sentiments of the deep self. Within the deep self, “a gradual heating and a sudden boiling overflow of feelings and ideas,” a roiling uproar of a consciousness that is non-sequential, can burst through the surface, the “outer crust.”
There is a theme of writing and literature as the salvific means of living, justifying a life, finding connection and meaning. His story of Dennis Johnson makes me think of Nietzsche’s Gay Science and the value of suffering, or, in Thus Spoke, “Creating—that is the great salvation from suffering, and life's alleviation. But for the creator to appear, suffering itself is needed, and much transformation.”
September 13, 2018
One to read before dinner one or more special evenings. Or just before going to the market to prepare for tonight's feast. Your shopping list should include an elk shank, dried morels, sweet potatoes, plenty of garlic and wine and the makings of homemade pie or ginger snaps and vanilla ice cream.
I wish there was more reporting of conversation, the interaction between one writer, those he mentors and his heroes, but that's a quibble. There's plenty to eat instead.
In recalling the repaste for Gary Snyder, Rick Bass tells us why he's roaming the world cooking dinner: "We sit down at [Snyder's] table and take up a Socratic discussion about art and the artist. I want to nurture my best students, I tell him, and make a bridge to the masters who have mentored me, as well as to feel again that sense of community and support myself…. The project is also about saying thank you,” I add. (p.138)
Along the way we meet and get to know those heroes and several of those whom he mentors, some better and more positively than others.
I wish there was more reporting of conversation, the interaction between one writer, those he mentors and his heroes, but that's a quibble. There's plenty to eat instead.
In recalling the repaste for Gary Snyder, Rick Bass tells us why he's roaming the world cooking dinner: "We sit down at [Snyder's] table and take up a Socratic discussion about art and the artist. I want to nurture my best students, I tell him, and make a bridge to the masters who have mentored me, as well as to feel again that sense of community and support myself…. The project is also about saying thank you,” I add. (p.138)
Along the way we meet and get to know those heroes and several of those whom he mentors, some better and more positively than others.
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