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Monkey Wrench Gang #1
The Monkey Wrench Gang
"And just what the hell are they planning next?" The bridge, bedecked with bunting, steamers and Day-Glo banners, was ready. the throng prepared to unloose a cheer or two. Suddenly the center of the bridge rose up and broke in two along a jagged zigzag line. A sheet of read flame streamed skyward... "This is their last stunt, Governor. We're on their tail, sir. We have a good idea who they are, how they poerate, and what they're planning next."
387 pages, Mass Market Paperback
First published August 1, 1975
2005 people are currently reading
26727 people want to read
About the author
Edward Abbey
76 books2,102 followersEdward Paul Abbey (1927–1989) was an American author and essayist noted for his advocacy of environmental issues, criticism of public land policies, and anarchist political views.
Abbey attended college in New Mexico and then worked as a park ranger and fire lookout for the National Park Service in the Southwest. It was during this time that he developed the relationship with the area’s environment that influenced his writing. During his service, he was in close proximity to the ruins of ancient Native American cultures and saw the expansion and destruction of modern civilization.
His love for nature and extreme distrust of the industrial world influenced much of his work and helped garner a cult following.
Abbey died on March 14, 1989, due to complications from surgery. He was buried as he had requested: in a sleeping bag—no embalming fluid, no casket. His body was secretly interred in an unmarked grave in southern Arizona.
Abbey attended college in New Mexico and then worked as a park ranger and fire lookout for the National Park Service in the Southwest. It was during this time that he developed the relationship with the area’s environment that influenced his writing. During his service, he was in close proximity to the ruins of ancient Native American cultures and saw the expansion and destruction of modern civilization.
His love for nature and extreme distrust of the industrial world influenced much of his work and helped garner a cult following.
Abbey died on March 14, 1989, due to complications from surgery. He was buried as he had requested: in a sleeping bag—no embalming fluid, no casket. His body was secretly interred in an unmarked grave in southern Arizona.
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July 14, 2024
UN BUON GIORNO PER MORIRE
Una volta abituatomi alla piacevole (!?) novità editoriale delle note fuori sync, nel senso che compaiono in basso mediamente un paio di pagine prima di essere indicate nel testo - quando sono indicate - ho avuto l’impressione di essere piombato dentro un romanzo di James Crumley: umori, personaggi, tono lo ricordano molto.
Solo che Edward Abbey si tiene lontano dal genere, noir o crime, dissemina meno armi spari sangue e violenza. E quando lo fa, usa meno cattiveria, attenua la violenza, e non ci sottrae un finale che solleva il cuore.
The Monkey Wrench Gang (il titolo originale del libro), la Banda della Chiave Inglese, questi quattro folli allucinati guastatori, è a tutti gli effetti un manuale per moderni sabotatori che insegna a confezionare bombe, maneggiare esplosivi, selezionarli, guastare, demolire, danneggiare, incendiare.
Due dei quattro: George Hayduke, l’ex marine, l’autentico allucinato artefice di un percorso esistenziale che è difficile mettere da parte, e Seldom Seen Smith, alias il Fabbro Visto Raramente, anche se più che il fabbro, è proprio lui che viene visto di rado in quanto da mormone ha tre mogli con relativa prole, in tre città diverse, e tra il mestiere di guida per canyon e mesa e rafting, i lavori da contadino insieme a Susan, la moglie prediletta, le altre due e la relativa prole lo vedono effettivamente assai di rado.
Questi due sono gli autentici sabotatori.
Gli altri due, il dottor Sarvis, medico chirurgo, è soprattutto l’ispiratore, il teorico, e il finanziatore. La sua giovane assistente, Bonnie Abbzug, ebrea del Bronx, spesso paragonata per bellezza a una giovane Liz Taylor, è la piccola vedetta bianca, assistente e collaboratrice, palo e autista.
L’edizione riporta sapientemente all’inizio una mappa della zona dove si svolge l’azione: lo Utah meridionale, l’Arizona e il New Mexico settentrionali. Terra di una bellezza devastante, che uomini avidi e ingordi, affamati di potere e progresso, stavano letteralmente devastando già nella prima metà degli anni Settanta durante i quali è ambientato il romanzo (pubblicato nel 1975). È la Navajo Land, la terra del Grand Canyon, attraversata dal fiume Colorado, di cui la madre di tutte le dighe che meritano essere distrutte, la Glen Canyon Dam, ha interrotto il corso.
Corso, quello del fiume Colorado, lungo 2300 chilometri, cioè in pratica il doppio della lunghezza della nostra bella penisola italica, attraversa un territorio di rara selvaggia unica bellezza, e procede a tratti pacifico, poi con brusche accelerate, improvvisi salti, tumultuose rapide – ritmo di scorrimento che echeggia quello della scrittura di Edward Abbey, del tono generale della storia, della personalità dei suoi quattro protagonisti – corso che ormai non porta più acqua al mare, nel Golfo della California, come avveniva prima della costruzione di quella e delle altre dighe.
La prima cosa sulla quale mi sono trovato a riflettere è come questi terroristi ecologici, individualisti e anarchici secondo la quintessenza del più puro spirito stelle-e-strisce, vadano in giro su automobili che mettono insieme un’impressionante quantità di metallo, liberino nell’aria un’ancor più impressionante quantità di scarichi combusti, brucino combustibile per procurarsi il quale stiamo distruggendo il pianeta, amino il deserto nel quale sentono il loro spirito libero e selvaggio mettere le ali, deserto che però disseminano di rifiuti, dalle cicche alle lattine di birra alle bottiglie di bourbon mandate in frantumi, non rifiutino la modernità sotto forma di armi sofisticate, inclusi mitra e fucili con mirino telescopico e proiettili speciali, sotto forma di sacchi a pelo tecnologici e ricetrasmittenti e gadget vari a cominciare da tutti quelli necessari per fare rafting su imbarcazioni ultimo grido non certo su piroghe intagliate nei tronchi...
Abbey mette in scena un’improvvisata sparuta banda di anarco-ambientalisti (che ha ispirato la nascita del movimento “Earth First!”) fedele alla disobbedienza civile di Thoreau, di fronte al disastro ambientale, sociale e culturale del cosiddetto progresso tecno-industriale capitalista.
E così, a ovest del centesimo meridiano a tagliare le recinzioni non si sbaglia mai.
Tagliare sempre le recinzioni. Questa è la legge a ovest del centesimo meridiano.
Perché nel 1874 un tizio che si chiamava J.F. Gilden brevettò il filo spinato:
Un successo immediato, quel filo spinato. Adesso le antilopi morivano a migliaia, le pecore delle montagne perivano a centinaia ogni inverno dall’Alberta giù fino all’Arizona, perché le recinzioni tagliavano ogni via di fuga dalle tempeste di neve e dalla scarsità di cibo. E anche i coyote, le aquile reali, e i soldati contadini sui rotoli di filo spinato, vittime della stessa gratuita malvagità che prospera.
Abbey s’immerge in meravigliose descrizioni del paesaggio: descrizioni vividissime, ricchissime di dettagli e di suggestioni particolareggiate d’ogni cosa – le rocce e i sassi e la sabbia, la vegetazione, le foreste e i loro alberi, gli animali, il cielo, l’aria, i rumori e i profumi… – che mi hanno immerso nel paesaggio stesso al punto da spingermi a schierarmi inevitabilmente dalla parte di chiunque voglia difenderne la sublime bellezza, in qualsiasi modo lo faccia.
La bellezza del paesaggio che Abbey descrive è tale che adesso voglio leggere anche il suo libro sui deserti.
Un buon giorno per morire è il titolo di un romanzo non eccezionale di Jim Harrison nel quale i tre protagonisti, uno dei quali reduce del Vietnam proprio come qui George Hayduke, progettano di far saltare la stessa diga per gli stessi principi. Il romanzo di Harrison è apparso due anni prima di questo. Ma questo è molto più bello.
Una volta abituatomi alla piacevole (!?) novità editoriale delle note fuori sync, nel senso che compaiono in basso mediamente un paio di pagine prima di essere indicate nel testo - quando sono indicate - ho avuto l’impressione di essere piombato dentro un romanzo di James Crumley: umori, personaggi, tono lo ricordano molto.
Solo che Edward Abbey si tiene lontano dal genere, noir o crime, dissemina meno armi spari sangue e violenza. E quando lo fa, usa meno cattiveria, attenua la violenza, e non ci sottrae un finale che solleva il cuore.
The Monkey Wrench Gang (il titolo originale del libro), la Banda della Chiave Inglese, questi quattro folli allucinati guastatori, è a tutti gli effetti un manuale per moderni sabotatori che insegna a confezionare bombe, maneggiare esplosivi, selezionarli, guastare, demolire, danneggiare, incendiare.
Due dei quattro: George Hayduke, l’ex marine, l’autentico allucinato artefice di un percorso esistenziale che è difficile mettere da parte, e Seldom Seen Smith, alias il Fabbro Visto Raramente, anche se più che il fabbro, è proprio lui che viene visto di rado in quanto da mormone ha tre mogli con relativa prole, in tre città diverse, e tra il mestiere di guida per canyon e mesa e rafting, i lavori da contadino insieme a Susan, la moglie prediletta, le altre due e la relativa prole lo vedono effettivamente assai di rado.
Questi due sono gli autentici sabotatori.
Gli altri due, il dottor Sarvis, medico chirurgo, è soprattutto l’ispiratore, il teorico, e il finanziatore. La sua giovane assistente, Bonnie Abbzug, ebrea del Bronx, spesso paragonata per bellezza a una giovane Liz Taylor, è la piccola vedetta bianca, assistente e collaboratrice, palo e autista.
L’edizione riporta sapientemente all’inizio una mappa della zona dove si svolge l’azione: lo Utah meridionale, l’Arizona e il New Mexico settentrionali. Terra di una bellezza devastante, che uomini avidi e ingordi, affamati di potere e progresso, stavano letteralmente devastando già nella prima metà degli anni Settanta durante i quali è ambientato il romanzo (pubblicato nel 1975). È la Navajo Land, la terra del Grand Canyon, attraversata dal fiume Colorado, di cui la madre di tutte le dighe che meritano essere distrutte, la Glen Canyon Dam, ha interrotto il corso.
Corso, quello del fiume Colorado, lungo 2300 chilometri, cioè in pratica il doppio della lunghezza della nostra bella penisola italica, attraversa un territorio di rara selvaggia unica bellezza, e procede a tratti pacifico, poi con brusche accelerate, improvvisi salti, tumultuose rapide – ritmo di scorrimento che echeggia quello della scrittura di Edward Abbey, del tono generale della storia, della personalità dei suoi quattro protagonisti – corso che ormai non porta più acqua al mare, nel Golfo della California, come avveniva prima della costruzione di quella e delle altre dighe.
La prima cosa sulla quale mi sono trovato a riflettere è come questi terroristi ecologici, individualisti e anarchici secondo la quintessenza del più puro spirito stelle-e-strisce, vadano in giro su automobili che mettono insieme un’impressionante quantità di metallo, liberino nell’aria un’ancor più impressionante quantità di scarichi combusti, brucino combustibile per procurarsi il quale stiamo distruggendo il pianeta, amino il deserto nel quale sentono il loro spirito libero e selvaggio mettere le ali, deserto che però disseminano di rifiuti, dalle cicche alle lattine di birra alle bottiglie di bourbon mandate in frantumi, non rifiutino la modernità sotto forma di armi sofisticate, inclusi mitra e fucili con mirino telescopico e proiettili speciali, sotto forma di sacchi a pelo tecnologici e ricetrasmittenti e gadget vari a cominciare da tutti quelli necessari per fare rafting su imbarcazioni ultimo grido non certo su piroghe intagliate nei tronchi...
Abbey mette in scena un’improvvisata sparuta banda di anarco-ambientalisti (che ha ispirato la nascita del movimento “Earth First!”) fedele alla disobbedienza civile di Thoreau, di fronte al disastro ambientale, sociale e culturale del cosiddetto progresso tecno-industriale capitalista.
E così, a ovest del centesimo meridiano a tagliare le recinzioni non si sbaglia mai.
Tagliare sempre le recinzioni. Questa è la legge a ovest del centesimo meridiano.
Perché nel 1874 un tizio che si chiamava J.F. Gilden brevettò il filo spinato:
Un successo immediato, quel filo spinato. Adesso le antilopi morivano a migliaia, le pecore delle montagne perivano a centinaia ogni inverno dall’Alberta giù fino all’Arizona, perché le recinzioni tagliavano ogni via di fuga dalle tempeste di neve e dalla scarsità di cibo. E anche i coyote, le aquile reali, e i soldati contadini sui rotoli di filo spinato, vittime della stessa gratuita malvagità che prospera.
Abbey s’immerge in meravigliose descrizioni del paesaggio: descrizioni vividissime, ricchissime di dettagli e di suggestioni particolareggiate d’ogni cosa – le rocce e i sassi e la sabbia, la vegetazione, le foreste e i loro alberi, gli animali, il cielo, l’aria, i rumori e i profumi… – che mi hanno immerso nel paesaggio stesso al punto da spingermi a schierarmi inevitabilmente dalla parte di chiunque voglia difenderne la sublime bellezza, in qualsiasi modo lo faccia.
La bellezza del paesaggio che Abbey descrive è tale che adesso voglio leggere anche il suo libro sui deserti.
Un buon giorno per morire è il titolo di un romanzo non eccezionale di Jim Harrison nel quale i tre protagonisti, uno dei quali reduce del Vietnam proprio come qui George Hayduke, progettano di far saltare la stessa diga per gli stessi principi. Il romanzo di Harrison è apparso due anni prima di questo. Ma questo è molto più bello.
May 22, 2007
Yes, it's an iconic work of anarchy and environmentalism, but that doesn't mean it isn't worth the read. This book is hilarious. Like most other American nature writers, Abbey was a bit of a self-important pig (I can't stand Farley Mowat, though maybe he's Canadian); unlike most other American nature writers, he has a sense of humor about it.
The characters are grizzled and absurd, their actions are grandiose and delusional, and I felt a strong sense of solidarity and sympathy the whole way that I probably shouldn't reveal in a public forum. Their last desperate measures to halt uncontrolled development and destruction of the West resonate in a way that a factual description of the follies of massive energy projects would not.
There is a wider array of characters than normally stereotyped as environmentalists -- in fact, there are no tree-hugging hippies in this book -- and that's what makes it so rich. There's a polygamous Mormon tour-guide whose home lies under a dam-made reservoir, a manic inarticulate and a-social young veteran, and a rich suburban doctor who's banging a younger, depressed transplanted New Yorker. A common critique of Abbey is that he's sexist, and this may be, but I actually like Bonnie's character, objectified though she was as the sole female character and self-aware slut.
No, I am not going to go drive a Caterpillar off a cliff now, but this book does make you wonder . . .
The characters are grizzled and absurd, their actions are grandiose and delusional, and I felt a strong sense of solidarity and sympathy the whole way that I probably shouldn't reveal in a public forum. Their last desperate measures to halt uncontrolled development and destruction of the West resonate in a way that a factual description of the follies of massive energy projects would not.
There is a wider array of characters than normally stereotyped as environmentalists -- in fact, there are no tree-hugging hippies in this book -- and that's what makes it so rich. There's a polygamous Mormon tour-guide whose home lies under a dam-made reservoir, a manic inarticulate and a-social young veteran, and a rich suburban doctor who's banging a younger, depressed transplanted New Yorker. A common critique of Abbey is that he's sexist, and this may be, but I actually like Bonnie's character, objectified though she was as the sole female character and self-aware slut.
No, I am not going to go drive a Caterpillar off a cliff now, but this book does make you wonder . . .
March 28, 2016
This tale of four "goldamn envirn-meddlers" is one of the least compelling stories I've ever read. I put off picking up the book until just before bedtime, and that one or two paragraphs I managed to read sure did wonders for lulling me into unconsciousness. The parts I did stay awake for only served to piss me off. The hypocrisy of these eco-terrorists is laughable. They motor up and down the very highways they rage against, burning massive amounts of fossil fuels in the commission of their protests, all the while, blithely tossing trash out the windows. Then there's the fact that the men are allowed to be old, fat, and hirsute. The one woman is, of course, young and attractive, with "shaven calves." (Interesting that she packs a razor for all their wilderness exploits. Probably a disposable which is then tossed from a car window.)
I don't know . . . maybe this was a case of "wrong book, wrong time." This is one of those books I kept saving to savor at a later date, and perhaps, I held out too long, until the "bestbuy read" date expired. The reason this gets three, rather than two stars, is that I have a feeling I might have liked it had I read it in high school or college.
Nowadays, I root for Billy Mack instead of Billy Joe and Bobbie Sue. (After all, Billy Joe did shoot a man while robbing his castle.) I probably should have read this one when I was reading Another Roadside Attraction. Abbey's book reminds me of Tom Robbins, only not funny.
I don't know . . . maybe this was a case of "wrong book, wrong time." This is one of those books I kept saving to savor at a later date, and perhaps, I held out too long, until the "best
Nowadays, I root for Billy Mack instead of Billy Joe and Bobbie Sue. (After all, Billy Joe did shoot a man while robbing his castle.) I probably should have read this one when I was reading Another Roadside Attraction. Abbey's book reminds me of Tom Robbins, only not funny.
August 6, 2016
pretty disappointed by this actually. like, the writing was good and I liked the style a lot, and I feel like I should have liked this (environmental vigilantes! exciting chase scenes!) but honestly I couldn't get past the racism and sexism. edward abbey is like the kind of anarchist white dudebro who would unironically say that fight club is their favorite movie.
I think I would have liked this a lot more too if the characters weren't all terrible (and racist). the only girl character was shitty and boring and the summary on the back led me to believe that she's a feminist but the way he wrote her was more patronizing and as if she were just a big child with no drive beyond what's "interesting". plus, the main hero (I guess?) is awful and claims to love "his" wilderness while a) treating native people like shit and b) literally throwing his trash (beer cans) all over the desert?? and even admitting that he doesn't think other people should drive their cars through "his" wilderness but thinks he's the only one who should?? so like, yeah, huge disappointment.
I think I would have liked this a lot more too if the characters weren't all terrible (and racist). the only girl character was shitty and boring and the summary on the back led me to believe that she's a feminist but the way he wrote her was more patronizing and as if she were just a big child with no drive beyond what's "interesting". plus, the main hero (I guess?) is awful and claims to love "his" wilderness while a) treating native people like shit and b) literally throwing his trash (beer cans) all over the desert?? and even admitting that he doesn't think other people should drive their cars through "his" wilderness but thinks he's the only one who should?? so like, yeah, huge disappointment.
August 12, 2016
I had a tough time getting through this book. Every character had basically the same personality and the story just rambles and rambles. People seem to love Edward Abbey for his out-there ideas, but they don’t do much for me at this time.
May 1, 2019
Is this book problematic? Yes. Are there politically incorrect, racist, and sexist comments? Yes. Did I love every minute of it? Yes!
I sit here simultaneously smiling and shaking my head as I write this review. It all began after a decision was made to spend some time in the deserts of the Southwest, USA. What might be a good book for the trip? Edward Abbey's name kept popping up, and this book was also a seminal one for my partner, so up my TBR pile it migrated.
It's the story of four people, three men and one women, who are not entirely pleased with changes made in the name of "progress" in particular, and have total disgust for bureaucracies in general. George Washington Hayduke III is a Vietnam Vet who returns to his beloved desert to find it threatened by development. Other members of this band of ecoterrorists (in the eyes of some beholders) are feminist saboteur Bonnie Abbzug, wilderness guide Seldom Seen Smith, and billboard destroyer Doc Sarvis, M.D. Instead of sitting around and moaning about things, or changing their Facebook Status (though that was way after their time), the quartet decide to wage war on the purveyors of all that progress.
There is so much here. The characters are well fleshed out, the writing is wonderful, the musings and philosophical meanderings as pertinent today as when this was originally published in 1975. There is lots of humor amidst all the anarchy and destruction, and much of what was feared has come to pass. This book is really a call to action to protect the environment in general, and deserts in particular. There is irony in how these four in many ways are not environmentally politically correct themselves, but you have to pick your battles.
That Abbey loved and cared about the deserts, and tried to get others to do the same is of little doubt. That he does so with a yarn full of shenanigans and hi-jinks is fantastic. While I might not go out and destroy heavy machinery or drive a Caterpillar off a cliff, I do now know exactly how to do so.
I listened to the audiobook, which was wonderfully narrated by Michael Kramer, and would highly recommend this on audio. You will find no tree huggers here, but people passionate about a cause that should concern us all. I've just discovered a new fave author and will be reading all his work.
I sit here simultaneously smiling and shaking my head as I write this review. It all began after a decision was made to spend some time in the deserts of the Southwest, USA. What might be a good book for the trip? Edward Abbey's name kept popping up, and this book was also a seminal one for my partner, so up my TBR pile it migrated.
It's the story of four people, three men and one women, who are not entirely pleased with changes made in the name of "progress" in particular, and have total disgust for bureaucracies in general. George Washington Hayduke III is a Vietnam Vet who returns to his beloved desert to find it threatened by development. Other members of this band of ecoterrorists (in the eyes of some beholders) are feminist saboteur Bonnie Abbzug, wilderness guide Seldom Seen Smith, and billboard destroyer Doc Sarvis, M.D. Instead of sitting around and moaning about things, or changing their Facebook Status (though that was way after their time), the quartet decide to wage war on the purveyors of all that progress.
There is so much here. The characters are well fleshed out, the writing is wonderful, the musings and philosophical meanderings as pertinent today as when this was originally published in 1975. There is lots of humor amidst all the anarchy and destruction, and much of what was feared has come to pass. This book is really a call to action to protect the environment in general, and deserts in particular. There is irony in how these four in many ways are not environmentally politically correct themselves, but you have to pick your battles.
That Abbey loved and cared about the deserts, and tried to get others to do the same is of little doubt. That he does so with a yarn full of shenanigans and hi-jinks is fantastic. While I might not go out and destroy heavy machinery or drive a Caterpillar off a cliff, I do now know exactly how to do so.
I listened to the audiobook, which was wonderfully narrated by Michael Kramer, and would highly recommend this on audio. You will find no tree huggers here, but people passionate about a cause that should concern us all. I've just discovered a new fave author and will be reading all his work.
June 18, 2007
Giving this book 5 stars would probably put me on some sort of a list, but let's be honest: I'm already on that list. If you're at all concerned about the environment, this is a pretty good book to read. It was the inspiration for Earth First! (The exclamation point is part of the name of the organization, the real end of the sentence follows this parenthetical). But the great part about this book is that it isn't a boring didactic screed. Instead, it's a hilarious comedy/adventure novel. To give my favorite example: One character starts using the alias Rudolph the Red during what would now probably be called a "direct action" campaign against various mining and logging interests. The only reason for that name is so that, in a conversation about the weather, he can say to a girl "Rudolph the Red knows rain, dear." Brilliant.
March 7, 2007
I blame reading this book at an inappropriately young age (9 or 10?) for the violent gag reflex that occurs whenever I smell patchouli, as well as the involuntary "NOOOOOOO" that I surprise myself with every time a ratty college do-gooder accosts me with a clipboard and a jaunty, "do you have a minute for the environment?"
Also, the surfeit of clunky, unshaven, back-of-the-VW-with-a-dog-looking-on-from-the-front-seat sex that occurs every second or third chapter couldn't have been good for my overall development. (That, however, is between me and my therapist.)
Also, the surfeit of clunky, unshaven, back-of-the-VW-with-a-dog-looking-on-from-the-front-seat sex that occurs every second or third chapter couldn't have been good for my overall development. (That, however, is between me and my therapist.)
March 31, 2009
In recent times, Al Gore has credited Rachel Carson (The Silent Spring) for introducing environmental concerns into his nascent consciousness, but it is a work of fiction not fact, Edward Abbey's "Monkey Wrench Gang", published first in 1975, which is regarded as having inspired a new generation of angry young environmental activists to the practice of extreme sabotage, sometimes called terrorism, for the sake of protecting the earth. For this reason, I recently reread this novel. I was interested to see if it had dated or whether if it still held relevance in these modern times, on this continent.
In the author's own words, "Monkey Wrench Gang" is a "comic extravanganza", a wild improbable story of symbolic aggression and constructive vandalism. A group of 4 passionate environmental warriors comprising a Vietnam vet, an eco-feminist, a wealthy medical doctor and a wilderness guide join forces to commit mayhem and liberate parts of Utah and Arizona from evil developers. They do this by waging war on billboards, construction machinery, roads and dams. While there is plenty of rollicking outrageous fun, nailbiting chase after chase and drama enough, the characters provide a vehicle for Abbey to voice his concerns and express philosophical observations on the subject of environmental preservation and the essential relationship between a healthy planet and healthy human beings. "The wilderness once offered men a plausible way of life, " the doctor said. "Now it functions as a psychiatric refuge. Soon there will be no wilderness......then the madness becomes universal...And the universe goes mad". Is it just a ringing in my ears, or do I hear echoes of Thoreau's "In wilderness is the preservation of man" here.
Having been thoroughly entertained by this page turner's quirky characters and hilarious, daring escapades - the reader is left with heightened awareness of the serious moral questions concerning the nature of our relationship with wilderness and our personal responsibility and culpability. These moral and ethical questions are as contemporary today as they were in the seventies. This book is funny, wise and as dangerously disquieting as the day it was first published.
In the author's own words, "Monkey Wrench Gang" is a "comic extravanganza", a wild improbable story of symbolic aggression and constructive vandalism. A group of 4 passionate environmental warriors comprising a Vietnam vet, an eco-feminist, a wealthy medical doctor and a wilderness guide join forces to commit mayhem and liberate parts of Utah and Arizona from evil developers. They do this by waging war on billboards, construction machinery, roads and dams. While there is plenty of rollicking outrageous fun, nailbiting chase after chase and drama enough, the characters provide a vehicle for Abbey to voice his concerns and express philosophical observations on the subject of environmental preservation and the essential relationship between a healthy planet and healthy human beings. "The wilderness once offered men a plausible way of life, " the doctor said. "Now it functions as a psychiatric refuge. Soon there will be no wilderness......then the madness becomes universal...And the universe goes mad". Is it just a ringing in my ears, or do I hear echoes of Thoreau's "In wilderness is the preservation of man" here.
Having been thoroughly entertained by this page turner's quirky characters and hilarious, daring escapades - the reader is left with heightened awareness of the serious moral questions concerning the nature of our relationship with wilderness and our personal responsibility and culpability. These moral and ethical questions are as contemporary today as they were in the seventies. This book is funny, wise and as dangerously disquieting as the day it was first published.
October 25, 2019
Very well done. Abbey added so much humor to this book that had serious themes. This was an interesting gang to follow!!!
April 12, 2011
This novel has all the same elements that make Edward Abbey's non-fiction so compelling: the depth of his knowledge and emotions about the desert landscapes of Utah and Colorado, his poetic descriptions of same, and his eloquent condemnation of the loss of this wilderness for the sake of city-dwelling, industrial man.
This book has all of that on display in droves, but also it highlights some of his weaknesses: smart-assey movie dialogue, rampant sexism and a love of bad puns. His four protagonists all start out resembling Edward Abbey a bit too directly, although by the end of the book, when they start running out of Abbeyesque witty bravado and face real problems, they become a bit more three-dimensional.
But the characters are really just there for Abbey to indulge in the extended revenge fantasy for which this book is a blueprint. Abbey's descriptions of industrial sabotage are so lovingly detailed, he's practically begging you to try them. Some consider this the book that launched Earth First! It definitely gave me a hankering to blow things up. (And it made me nostalgic for an era when you could purchase cordite at the farm store without an ID.)
This book has all of that on display in droves, but also it highlights some of his weaknesses: smart-assey movie dialogue, rampant sexism and a love of bad puns. His four protagonists all start out resembling Edward Abbey a bit too directly, although by the end of the book, when they start running out of Abbeyesque witty bravado and face real problems, they become a bit more three-dimensional.
But the characters are really just there for Abbey to indulge in the extended revenge fantasy for which this book is a blueprint. Abbey's descriptions of industrial sabotage are so lovingly detailed, he's practically begging you to try them. Some consider this the book that launched Earth First! It definitely gave me a hankering to blow things up. (And it made me nostalgic for an era when you could purchase cordite at the farm store without an ID.)
October 5, 2022
Is this the novel that launched a thousand torch-ins of private property in the American West? The American government would certainly like you to think so. THE MONKEY WRENCH GANG, from 1975, is widely credited, or accused, of having started the "deep ecology" movement in the United States. Adherents hold that it is morally permissible to attack machines and other instruments of the destruction of the environment, although never human beings, in the cause of saving nature and natural beauties. Abbey's gang targets strip mines, saw mills, lumber camps, etc. that are ruining the balance between man and nature. If they are a collection of zanies that may be because Abbey wants to satirize all mankind, a la' Swift, including "do-gooders." Abbey had gone down this road before, notably in his earlier novel LONELY ARE THE BRAVE, in which a modern day cowboy deliberately breaks the law and gets thrown into jail, from which he escapes, to show the loss of freedom that comes with modernizing the West. (Curiously, the novel was transformed into a terrific screenplay by Dalton Trumbo, whose leftist politics were the opposite of Abbey's. Perhaps they both simply despised authority.) Abbey cannot be readily categorized as left or right. He once called Mexican migration into the U.S. West "the single greatest threat to nature in the desert. (Maybe he was a premature "Build the Wall! kind of guy.) It's easy to see that this attitude towards ecology lends itself to all sort of political expression, from Anarchism to Fascism. In the USA we've seen the phenomenon of the Ku Klux Klan sponsoring highway cleanups, while Western Europe has the more ominous self-proclaimed "eco-fascists". THE MONKEY WRENCH GANG is still worth reading both as a manifesto of political environmentalism and a warning on pursuing that goal down a dark path.
October 6, 2009
When I was about 12 years old, my dad took my sister and me camping in Southeast Utah. We took my dad's Ford truck with four wheel drive to Canyonlands National Park and went on various roads, back roads, dirt roads, and roads that were barely roads at all. We bumped around the slick rock of Ernies Country, and went up a narrow and twisty dirt road with a sheer cliff on one side. It terrified my sister and I so that we buckled into the middle seat together and sang hymns the whole way down. We camped underneath one of the needles, and slept in sleeping bags under the stars. Before night fell, my dad took us to the edge of the canyon and peered over the edge into The Maze. As we looked at it, he told me the story of the climax in The Monkey Wrench Gang. I knew I would have to read this book. Standing there on the light side of dusk, and in fact that whole trip, hymns and all, is one of my favorite childhood memories.
And so it was with a fond recollection of my times in Northern Arizona Southeast Utah I read The Monkey Wrench Gang, a book about the beauty of this unforgiving dessert and the environmental anarchists that love it.
The plot is simple - in the mid 70s, 4 characters unlikely to hang out together under normal circumstances - a young new age hippy woman, a liberal doctor/processor, a Vietnam vet turned wildman, and a Mormon polygamous white water river tour operator - have a chance meeting and hatch a plot to disrupt the building of dams and bridges, logging, and other industrial pursuits. Along the way they have various adventures while trying to evade the authorities.
The book is very comedic, and I found myself chuckling at various points throughout. At first I thought I wouldn't be able to sympathize with these characters who didn't seem much like me and were involved in destructive illegal activity. And yet I did find myself rooting for them all along the way.
The book kept me guessing til the end. Would they get caught or not? Would they evade the police? How would they do it? I wondered if the author would let them get caught to pay for their crimes or not. I found the ending to be very satisfying and it left me with a smile on my face.
I'd recommend this book to any person familiar with Southeast Utah. It really brought back some wonderful memories. This book is also for anyone who loves nature or hiking. Even if you would never dream of blowing up a dam, the characters' passion for unspoiled wilderness is contagious.
And so it was with a fond recollection of my times in Northern Arizona Southeast Utah I read The Monkey Wrench Gang, a book about the beauty of this unforgiving dessert and the environmental anarchists that love it.
The plot is simple - in the mid 70s, 4 characters unlikely to hang out together under normal circumstances - a young new age hippy woman, a liberal doctor/processor, a Vietnam vet turned wildman, and a Mormon polygamous white water river tour operator - have a chance meeting and hatch a plot to disrupt the building of dams and bridges, logging, and other industrial pursuits. Along the way they have various adventures while trying to evade the authorities.
The book is very comedic, and I found myself chuckling at various points throughout. At first I thought I wouldn't be able to sympathize with these characters who didn't seem much like me and were involved in destructive illegal activity. And yet I did find myself rooting for them all along the way.
The book kept me guessing til the end. Would they get caught or not? Would they evade the police? How would they do it? I wondered if the author would let them get caught to pay for their crimes or not. I found the ending to be very satisfying and it left me with a smile on my face.
I'd recommend this book to any person familiar with Southeast Utah. It really brought back some wonderful memories. This book is also for anyone who loves nature or hiking. Even if you would never dream of blowing up a dam, the characters' passion for unspoiled wilderness is contagious.
September 20, 2014
Here's where my reading practice paid off: By avoiding the hype of what others say and have said about the author, I enjoyed his art in what I can only hope is how he originally had hoped it would hit his readers. Having read Desert Solitaire and a couple of brief interviews with the man, I was still shocked by the skillful quality of literature this book represents. It is not conventional in any way, in fact the four "protagonists" are all deeply flawed in many moral dimensions, including criminality. But they are oh so real, with charm and redeeming qualities as well. In fact, these four characters each represent an ideal of the dreams and desires of all human beings as they execute an eco-terrorist agenda. This has huge themes too, the destruction of nature and the blind exercise of commercialism, with its attendant loss of human community and basic resources. I'm in a hurry, and had flagged about 20 particularly piquant sections, but let me share just one (p 387/388) at the end, where one of the remaining two being pursued, reflects upon the next phase of escape amongst the canyon walls: "Hayduke schemes and dreams and cannot sleep. Too tired to sleep, too hungry, angry, excited and fearful to sleep. It appears to him that only one obstacle remains between himself and a wilderness autumn and winter down in the Maze, down there where he can lose himself at last, forget himself for good, become pure predator dedicated to nothing but survival, nothing but the clean hard bright pursuit of game. That ultimate world, he thinks, or rather dreams, the final world of meat, blood, fire, water, rock, wood, sun, wind, sky, night, cold, dawn, warmth, life. Those short, blunt and irreducible words which stand for almost everything he thinks he has lost. Or never really had. And loneliness, loneliness? Is that all he has to fear?".
Then about to abandon his sleeping partner: "Old Seldom Seen lies on his side, fast asleep, despite the thunder (for him a familiar and maybe soothing sound), head cradled on his arm, a smile on the homely face. The sonofabitch is smiling. Good dream for a change. He looks so vulnerable for the moment, so hopeless and helpless and almost human."
Can't help but love this stuff, muscular, bold, wild as can be... like the author himself as I imagine he wanted to be (and often was). RIP.
Then about to abandon his sleeping partner: "Old Seldom Seen lies on his side, fast asleep, despite the thunder (for him a familiar and maybe soothing sound), head cradled on his arm, a smile on the homely face. The sonofabitch is smiling. Good dream for a change. He looks so vulnerable for the moment, so hopeless and helpless and almost human."
Can't help but love this stuff, muscular, bold, wild as can be... like the author himself as I imagine he wanted to be (and often was). RIP.
May 7, 2009
Kind of disappointing after reading Abbey's 'Desert Solitaire' (a nice piece of nature writing) This book was recommended to me by several friends who are avid cyclists and environmentalists. I thought i would enjoy the tale of these four 'eco-avengers' blowing up bridges and sabotaging construction sites. Instead I was bored by the writing and upset by Abbey's unabashed sexism and racism.
July 3, 2021
This is the third time I’ve read this book. The first being when I was about 12 or 13, the second, sometime in high school. As a middle aged man at this point, pushing 50, the nuances of the novel were different, but it still tripped some of those old triggers and gave me some insight about the course of my life.
So, to get it out of the way, in the social mores and attitudes portrayed in the novel are dated. It’s a little misogynist, a little bigoted, and the main character litters. I will give Edward Abbey some slack though. So. Let’s just go through it:
Women: To his credit, Abbey was one of the “Greatest Generation”, so including a woman at all in his novel is admirable – as well as his attempts to understand feminism. Today, the character of Bonnie Abbzug reads as a bit of a manic-pixie dreamgirl, but she is invested with her own motivations, and ironically, constantly complains that she isn’t being given enough tasks of a substantive nature. Again, look at the other “adventure” novels of the early 70’s being written by men – their women, if there are any, aren’t as well developed, or as feminist as Abbzug. So, kudos to Ed for trying.
Native Americans: Ed paints indigenous Americans with a pretty critical brush – portraying them as drunks who have absorbed and display the worst American-suburban/redneck traits. Ed pretty much portrays all people – Mormons, tourists, white people – with the same scolding eye – but what sticks out with Native Americans, is that Ed holds up in glory their “pre-war” state of being, without owning up to why Native Americans are in poverty and dispossessed of the qualities he abstractly admires. F- for that one.
Littering: C’mon. Ed. C’mon. “I shouldn’t throw the cans there? Well, the road shouldn’t be there in the first place!” (paraphrased) is not a good excuse for an environmental activist to have one of his characters throwing trash out the jeep window. Minor quibble of mine. Ironic. A little funny. Gets a lot of people upset though, and I think it’s funny they focus on the littering and not the drinking and driving.
Now that we’re done with that, let’s get on with the rest of it.
Despite certain dated aspects, the novel still held up very well for me. I felt the same twinges of the excitement I had when I first read it. This is a very passionate novel, and Abbey’s desire to *do something* to save his desert is incredibly apparent. In fact, this is a fantasy novel. Abbey admitted or bragged about doing some “night work”, and I wonder if at a certain point he realized the futility of fucking up a couple bulldozers and channeled his energy into writing a book about people capable of doing more – with the hopeful side benefit of inspiring his readers to get out and do something (which happened).
Out of the four Monkey Gangers, there are two characters which stand out, and respond best for Abbey’s core strength – writing about outlaws. (In fact, the third outlaw who infrequently appears in this novel, “The Lone Ranger” is Jack Burns from Abbey’s “The Brave Cowboy” – which is much edgier than the title makes it seem. The characters of George Washington Hayduke and Seldom Seen Smith (drawn from activists Doug Peacock and Ken Sleight respectively) are the most vivid and iconographic. Ed really understands these characters and makes them intense and vivid.
Hayduke was perhaps the most powerful for me. As an adolescent in the 80’s searching for positive role models, Hayduke’s ethos quickly cemented himself in my psyche. Short, burly, pure animal and id, eschewing the disgusting mess of civilized life, for rootless wandering in the Southwest and moved to action, he became my spirit animal. Obviously, he was larger than life, and written to be an invulnerable superman of sorts (invulnerable… to everything but love…ha).
Seldom Seen, the “autochthonic patriot” is also a larger than life character. Lean and laconic, he hearkens back to Western archetypes. (That Abbey sees a lapsed Mormon river rat as superior to contemporary Native Americans is a little irksome.) But, Smith is incredibly affable, even as he commits acts of sabotage. He’s a great foil for Hayduke, and makes me wish that Abbey had written a prequel starring Seldom Seen. He and Hayduke are the ultimate modern desert outlaws. It’s a shame I can’t find anything written by Sleight himself. I think a book exists, but I can’t lay my hands on a copy.
Doc Sarvis, was my least favorite character. At the time when I was young and bursting with testosterone, I didn’t want to read about this old fat guy, pushing 50. Now that I’m an old, fat guy pushing 50, my opinions of Doc have changed. He’s admirable too because he puts it on the line. I can identify with his physical ineptness in comparison to the raw and powerful Hayduke, and hey – he’s charming enough to get the late-20-something girl…(which, today reads as pure aging white male fantasy).
Bonnie…we covered her. Again, underused. I’ll have to read the sequel to this book again to see how Abbey changed her character. I dimly remember something about her struggling to get out of a pool in a cave…so, maybe not that much.
The novel fired my imagination, and inflamed me with Ed’s burning desire for rugged-western-cowboy- independence and his clanging warning that the imperiled desert was just one example of man’s folly that was coming for all of us. As protestors still climb into old growth trees to protect them from being felled, or put themselves in front of up-armored cops to try and stop pipelines – or even sabotaging pipelines to challenge the corporate despoiling of the world, his book is still relevant. Today, as the PNW burns, I think many of us wish we had the skills, capabilities, and bravery that George Hayduke had to get out there and really do something.
Unfortunately, I think the tipping point has been surpassed and we’re heading into something dark.
I think this is truly, “the Great American novel”. When my foreign friends have asked me to suggest a book that’s “really American”, I’ve always recommended this one. “Last Exit to Brooklyn” is also another great American novel – but The Monkey Wrench Gang ends on a lighter note. Ed had a sense of humor, and this is a comic farce.
The prose is great too. Abby can *write*. His descriptions of the flora, fauna and environs of the Southwest have earned him the sobriquet of the “Thoreau of the West”. His writing about the southwest wilderness were so intricate, nuanced, and powerful, they created very strong visions in my mind’s eye that are still as thrilling to read 35ish years after I read this book the first time.
So, this is a counterculture classic, as well as an American classic. Recommended, especially now at the twilight of humanity’s ability to tolerate the changing climate.
So, to get it out of the way, in the social mores and attitudes portrayed in the novel are dated. It’s a little misogynist, a little bigoted, and the main character litters. I will give Edward Abbey some slack though. So. Let’s just go through it:
Women: To his credit, Abbey was one of the “Greatest Generation”, so including a woman at all in his novel is admirable – as well as his attempts to understand feminism. Today, the character of Bonnie Abbzug reads as a bit of a manic-pixie dreamgirl, but she is invested with her own motivations, and ironically, constantly complains that she isn’t being given enough tasks of a substantive nature. Again, look at the other “adventure” novels of the early 70’s being written by men – their women, if there are any, aren’t as well developed, or as feminist as Abbzug. So, kudos to Ed for trying.
Native Americans: Ed paints indigenous Americans with a pretty critical brush – portraying them as drunks who have absorbed and display the worst American-suburban/redneck traits. Ed pretty much portrays all people – Mormons, tourists, white people – with the same scolding eye – but what sticks out with Native Americans, is that Ed holds up in glory their “pre-war” state of being, without owning up to why Native Americans are in poverty and dispossessed of the qualities he abstractly admires. F- for that one.
Littering: C’mon. Ed. C’mon. “I shouldn’t throw the cans there? Well, the road shouldn’t be there in the first place!” (paraphrased) is not a good excuse for an environmental activist to have one of his characters throwing trash out the jeep window. Minor quibble of mine. Ironic. A little funny. Gets a lot of people upset though, and I think it’s funny they focus on the littering and not the drinking and driving.
Now that we’re done with that, let’s get on with the rest of it.
Despite certain dated aspects, the novel still held up very well for me. I felt the same twinges of the excitement I had when I first read it. This is a very passionate novel, and Abbey’s desire to *do something* to save his desert is incredibly apparent. In fact, this is a fantasy novel. Abbey admitted or bragged about doing some “night work”, and I wonder if at a certain point he realized the futility of fucking up a couple bulldozers and channeled his energy into writing a book about people capable of doing more – with the hopeful side benefit of inspiring his readers to get out and do something (which happened).
Out of the four Monkey Gangers, there are two characters which stand out, and respond best for Abbey’s core strength – writing about outlaws. (In fact, the third outlaw who infrequently appears in this novel, “The Lone Ranger” is Jack Burns from Abbey’s “The Brave Cowboy” – which is much edgier than the title makes it seem. The characters of George Washington Hayduke and Seldom Seen Smith (drawn from activists Doug Peacock and Ken Sleight respectively) are the most vivid and iconographic. Ed really understands these characters and makes them intense and vivid.
Hayduke was perhaps the most powerful for me. As an adolescent in the 80’s searching for positive role models, Hayduke’s ethos quickly cemented himself in my psyche. Short, burly, pure animal and id, eschewing the disgusting mess of civilized life, for rootless wandering in the Southwest and moved to action, he became my spirit animal. Obviously, he was larger than life, and written to be an invulnerable superman of sorts (invulnerable… to everything but love…ha).
Seldom Seen, the “autochthonic patriot” is also a larger than life character. Lean and laconic, he hearkens back to Western archetypes. (That Abbey sees a lapsed Mormon river rat as superior to contemporary Native Americans is a little irksome.) But, Smith is incredibly affable, even as he commits acts of sabotage. He’s a great foil for Hayduke, and makes me wish that Abbey had written a prequel starring Seldom Seen. He and Hayduke are the ultimate modern desert outlaws. It’s a shame I can’t find anything written by Sleight himself. I think a book exists, but I can’t lay my hands on a copy.
Doc Sarvis, was my least favorite character. At the time when I was young and bursting with testosterone, I didn’t want to read about this old fat guy, pushing 50. Now that I’m an old, fat guy pushing 50, my opinions of Doc have changed. He’s admirable too because he puts it on the line. I can identify with his physical ineptness in comparison to the raw and powerful Hayduke, and hey – he’s charming enough to get the late-20-something girl…(which, today reads as pure aging white male fantasy).
Bonnie…we covered her. Again, underused. I’ll have to read the sequel to this book again to see how Abbey changed her character. I dimly remember something about her struggling to get out of a pool in a cave…so, maybe not that much.
The novel fired my imagination, and inflamed me with Ed’s burning desire for rugged-western-cowboy- independence and his clanging warning that the imperiled desert was just one example of man’s folly that was coming for all of us. As protestors still climb into old growth trees to protect them from being felled, or put themselves in front of up-armored cops to try and stop pipelines – or even sabotaging pipelines to challenge the corporate despoiling of the world, his book is still relevant. Today, as the PNW burns, I think many of us wish we had the skills, capabilities, and bravery that George Hayduke had to get out there and really do something.
Unfortunately, I think the tipping point has been surpassed and we’re heading into something dark.
I think this is truly, “the Great American novel”. When my foreign friends have asked me to suggest a book that’s “really American”, I’ve always recommended this one. “Last Exit to Brooklyn” is also another great American novel – but The Monkey Wrench Gang ends on a lighter note. Ed had a sense of humor, and this is a comic farce.
The prose is great too. Abby can *write*. His descriptions of the flora, fauna and environs of the Southwest have earned him the sobriquet of the “Thoreau of the West”. His writing about the southwest wilderness were so intricate, nuanced, and powerful, they created very strong visions in my mind’s eye that are still as thrilling to read 35ish years after I read this book the first time.
So, this is a counterculture classic, as well as an American classic. Recommended, especially now at the twilight of humanity’s ability to tolerate the changing climate.
July 9, 2018
Second time around.
First time I've read this since 1978 or 1979.
The good news? It holds up! Let's farp up some bulldozers next weekend!
Even better news: the brave cowboy, Jack Burns -last seen in
-has a cameo with a slight return at the end.
But this is the story of George Hayduke and his pals Seldom Seen Smith, Bonnie Abbzugg, and Doc Sarvis and their attempt to reclaim the deserts of Utah and Arizona from the land reclamation ass-wipes Koch Bros., et al, Peabody Coal, Pacific, Gas, And Electric and the rest of all the heathen dogs succeeding under Don John Trump's EPA lately under F. Scott Pruitt and the U. S. Department of the Interior under Ryan Zinke.
Except when this book was originally published it was the Nixon/Ford administrations.
Sure, it's as dated as the barnacles attached to Don Johnny's massive flanks but it's fun and it's action-packed to boot.
Lots of narrow escapes abound.
The heart threatens to burst Alien-like from the chest.
Along with all the suspense and action, you get Edward Abbey's poetic rhapsodizing over desert flora and fauna and scary-big skies.
I love this novel.
No idea to whom I'd recommend this masterpiece.
Could be that like me its time has expired.
First time I've read this since 1978 or 1979.
The good news? It holds up! Let's farp up some bulldozers next weekend!
Even better news: the brave cowboy, Jack Burns -last seen in
-has a cameo with a slight return at the end.But this is the story of George Hayduke and his pals Seldom Seen Smith, Bonnie Abbzugg, and Doc Sarvis and their attempt to reclaim the deserts of Utah and Arizona from the land reclamation ass-wipes Koch Bros., et al, Peabody Coal, Pacific, Gas, And Electric and the rest of all the heathen dogs succeeding under Don John Trump's EPA lately under F. Scott Pruitt and the U. S. Department of the Interior under Ryan Zinke.
Except when this book was originally published it was the Nixon/Ford administrations.
Sure, it's as dated as the barnacles attached to Don Johnny's massive flanks but it's fun and it's action-packed to boot.
Lots of narrow escapes abound.
The heart threatens to burst Alien-like from the chest.
Along with all the suspense and action, you get Edward Abbey's poetic rhapsodizing over desert flora and fauna and scary-big skies.
I love this novel.
No idea to whom I'd recommend this masterpiece.
Could be that like me its time has expired.
July 15, 2013
This book is a great American Classic. It is impossible to fully describe its influence.
I love reading the comments about Abbey. He just pissed off everybody. This was when the so-called "environmental" movement in this country had balls and snark. Now, it's pot-lucks and social events, getting anything done as an afterthought. It's "being professional"=lobotomy.
Ed walked the land and knew the land. He knew the critters like they were his friends. He read the sky. He was about our AMERICAN LAND and he knew it, intimately. Somehow, the art of knowing the land has been subsumed by using public lands for exercise...and it doesn't matter a damn if you don't know the first thing about that tree seedling you just ran over with your mountain bike. The narcissists have found the out of doors but they look neat and trim...fit. This is what matters.
God Bless His Cantankerous Sexist Ass. We miss ya' Ed.
I love reading the comments about Abbey. He just pissed off everybody. This was when the so-called "environmental" movement in this country had balls and snark. Now, it's pot-lucks and social events, getting anything done as an afterthought. It's "being professional"=lobotomy.
Ed walked the land and knew the land. He knew the critters like they were his friends. He read the sky. He was about our AMERICAN LAND and he knew it, intimately. Somehow, the art of knowing the land has been subsumed by using public lands for exercise...and it doesn't matter a damn if you don't know the first thing about that tree seedling you just ran over with your mountain bike. The narcissists have found the out of doors but they look neat and trim...fit. This is what matters.
God Bless His Cantankerous Sexist Ass. We miss ya' Ed.
April 7, 2015
A modern day classic and still capable of stirring up people on both sides of the issue. Provocative,descriptive,sarcastic, humorous, engrossing and angry are just a few of the words that come to mind when describing Edward Abbey's most well known book. I do not consider myself a radical or hardcore environmentalist. I'm too much a product of the modern era for that. I ,and those I love, have benefited from the modern world and "evil" technology (modern medicine, computers and so on). However I also believe that we don't need to grow and develop for it's own sake and I do think attitudes have changed (somewhat) since Abbey wrote this novel. Be that as it may the message of the book is just as important today as it was in 1975, but there are a few weak points in the self-righteous armor that covers this issue.
I find it interesting that Abbey resided in a town and owned both vehicles and firearms. So while he wanted nature preserved he wasn't going to go back to animal skins and stone knives (neither am I). One could also point out that Abbey owed his living to the modern world. Books (dead trees anyone?), electricity (printing pressed aren't operated by hand anymore) trucks to deliver his books to bookstores (many in shopping malls surrounded by concrete) and on and on. Tying into this I remember getting great amusement when I watched "An Inconvenient Truth". There was footage of Al Gore being driven to his lecture in a gas guzzling vehicle. Then there is Al speaking to a large audience (all wearing clothing produced in factories) in a modern auditorium which was happily burning fossil fuels while Al terrified us........with the assistance of hi-tech communication devices made of plastic and using electricity. Doesn't anybody find the humor in this? Whatever side of the environmental issue you are on you have to admit the irony is amusing.
Okay enough snarkiness. "The Money Wrench Gang" is actually a very enjoyable read. It has a cheerful anarchistic tone that I liked. There is anger, but it never grows out of control and I never felt like Abbey was bludgeoning me with a scree. Authority figures don't come off very well, but sometimes those in positions of authority are pompous and heavy-handed. Abbey is critical of our consumer economy even though his characters have no trouble using it's products. However Mr. Abbey keeps the book moving along at a rapid-fire pace so that his readers don't really have time to think about such things. I believe it's only with the benefit of hindsight (forty years now since it was published!) that such inconsistency is more apparent. The book really takes off when describing the beauty and details of the Southwestern desert. Abbey loved nature and it comes through in the book. At times he goes on a little too long ,a la Henry David Thoreau, when describing nature and the universe, but not to the detriment of the story.
"The Monkey Wrench Gang" is a good novel. Both fun and provocative,it has aged very well. Credited with being one of the touchstones of the modern radical environmental movement I recommend it. It might make you angry, but I don't think you'll be bored.
I find it interesting that Abbey resided in a town and owned both vehicles and firearms. So while he wanted nature preserved he wasn't going to go back to animal skins and stone knives (neither am I). One could also point out that Abbey owed his living to the modern world. Books (dead trees anyone?), electricity (printing pressed aren't operated by hand anymore) trucks to deliver his books to bookstores (many in shopping malls surrounded by concrete) and on and on. Tying into this I remember getting great amusement when I watched "An Inconvenient Truth". There was footage of Al Gore being driven to his lecture in a gas guzzling vehicle. Then there is Al speaking to a large audience (all wearing clothing produced in factories) in a modern auditorium which was happily burning fossil fuels while Al terrified us........with the assistance of hi-tech communication devices made of plastic and using electricity. Doesn't anybody find the humor in this? Whatever side of the environmental issue you are on you have to admit the irony is amusing.
Okay enough snarkiness. "The Money Wrench Gang" is actually a very enjoyable read. It has a cheerful anarchistic tone that I liked. There is anger, but it never grows out of control and I never felt like Abbey was bludgeoning me with a scree. Authority figures don't come off very well, but sometimes those in positions of authority are pompous and heavy-handed. Abbey is critical of our consumer economy even though his characters have no trouble using it's products. However Mr. Abbey keeps the book moving along at a rapid-fire pace so that his readers don't really have time to think about such things. I believe it's only with the benefit of hindsight (forty years now since it was published!) that such inconsistency is more apparent. The book really takes off when describing the beauty and details of the Southwestern desert. Abbey loved nature and it comes through in the book. At times he goes on a little too long ,a la Henry David Thoreau, when describing nature and the universe, but not to the detriment of the story.
"The Monkey Wrench Gang" is a good novel. Both fun and provocative,it has aged very well. Credited with being one of the touchstones of the modern radical environmental movement I recommend it. It might make you angry, but I don't think you'll be bored.
March 27, 2024
The Monkey Wrench Gang, probably Edward Abbey's most famous novel, about four main characters who sabotage various corporate assets in order to make a statement about their dissension with progress and modernism was first published in 1975. Although I am no proponent of anarchism, I found Abbey's novel very absorbing, if not sometimes a bit too technical during his passages describing the running of large machinery and the desert fauna and flora around southern Utah. Regardless of those descriptive paragraphs, the events that occur during the book are, in my opinion, exciting and keep the reader interested. In addition, Abbey had a statement to make, and I believe he succeeded, regardless of the reader's political proclivities. Considering the corruptive construction of the western United States and how so many places are being overdeveloped, I wonder if he didn't have a point.
In any case, each of the characters that Abbey created are what makes for the most entertaining aspect of this novel. "Seldom Seen" Smith, George Hayduke, Doc Sarvis, and Bonnie Abbzug are some of the most colorful characters that I have read in any novel. Each of them are so well described, that the reader feels he knows each of them including their motivations, idiosyncrasies, and desires. They may not be moral, but they are colorful and, in many ways, likeable, simply because of their sense of humor, lightness of heart, and reckless attitudes. I am sure each of those characters were part of the more cynical, rough-hewn, and maladjusted Abbey himself. It was like he had taken his own personality, separated it into four parts, and created each of those characters.
In summary, Abbey knew the material he was writing about, whether it was the geographic location of the southwest, the machinery and structures his endearing characters sabotaged, the law enforcement in that area, and the personalities of individuals who may have a propensity to go out and stop all this blasted progress (I hope no one is reading this - I'll have the FBI knocking on my door!). Well worth the read, even if you are a heartless egomaniacal urban planner.
P.S. A warning for any prospective readers: The language in this book is harsh, particularly during conversations that include George Hayduke. In addition, realize this book was published in the mid-1970's and includes the beat generation morality that emerged from the late 1950's with the publishing of Jack Kerouac's On the Road.
In any case, each of the characters that Abbey created are what makes for the most entertaining aspect of this novel. "Seldom Seen" Smith, George Hayduke, Doc Sarvis, and Bonnie Abbzug are some of the most colorful characters that I have read in any novel. Each of them are so well described, that the reader feels he knows each of them including their motivations, idiosyncrasies, and desires. They may not be moral, but they are colorful and, in many ways, likeable, simply because of their sense of humor, lightness of heart, and reckless attitudes. I am sure each of those characters were part of the more cynical, rough-hewn, and maladjusted Abbey himself. It was like he had taken his own personality, separated it into four parts, and created each of those characters.
In summary, Abbey knew the material he was writing about, whether it was the geographic location of the southwest, the machinery and structures his endearing characters sabotaged, the law enforcement in that area, and the personalities of individuals who may have a propensity to go out and stop all this blasted progress (I hope no one is reading this - I'll have the FBI knocking on my door!). Well worth the read, even if you are a heartless egomaniacal urban planner.
P.S. A warning for any prospective readers: The language in this book is harsh, particularly during conversations that include George Hayduke. In addition, realize this book was published in the mid-1970's and includes the beat generation morality that emerged from the late 1950's with the publishing of Jack Kerouac's On the Road.
September 14, 2010
The summer after I graduated from college I spent a lot of time out west, roaming the country between Salt Lake City, Utah and the beautiful park land nearby; Zion, Arches, Canyonlands, and a personal childhood favorite of mine, Goblin Valley, where the shadows cast by the rocks in the twilight evoke ghoulish figures creeping up on you from all sides. I love these landscapes, so different from the Connecticut hills I grew up in – the colors, smells, and emotions of the American West are something all their own.
In the endless hours of driving between parks and camping along rivers lined with desert shrubs, I read The Monkey Wrench Gang and later Desert Solitaire. The latter wasn’t quite my style (it’s largely about desert biology) but The Monkey Wrench Gang was exactly what I needed at that time of my life.
The story revolves around a group of four misfits who find each other and bond over their equal fervor for protecting the American Southwest. Although the group practices minor attacks with the usual sand in the engines of bulldozers and syrup in their gas tanks, the main target in their scheme of eco-terrorism is the Glen Canyon Dam, which gives orderly control to the beautiful, forceful, and wild Colorado River. At times funny, at times poignant, The Monkey Wrench Gang shows why its author was called a “desert anarchist” and the “Thoreau of the American West.”
Go pick up this book, it’ll make you want to burn a billboard (not that I’m advocating that.)
In the endless hours of driving between parks and camping along rivers lined with desert shrubs, I read The Monkey Wrench Gang and later Desert Solitaire. The latter wasn’t quite my style (it’s largely about desert biology) but The Monkey Wrench Gang was exactly what I needed at that time of my life.
The story revolves around a group of four misfits who find each other and bond over their equal fervor for protecting the American Southwest. Although the group practices minor attacks with the usual sand in the engines of bulldozers and syrup in their gas tanks, the main target in their scheme of eco-terrorism is the Glen Canyon Dam, which gives orderly control to the beautiful, forceful, and wild Colorado River. At times funny, at times poignant, The Monkey Wrench Gang shows why its author was called a “desert anarchist” and the “Thoreau of the American West.”
Go pick up this book, it’ll make you want to burn a billboard (not that I’m advocating that.)
February 27, 2011
There are two ways to review this book.
One, as a novel. Edwards Abbey writes a blazing, funny, madcap zany story of a group of four anarchist friends, hell-bent to stop the development of the southwest wilderness by crushing dams, bridges, power plants and anything else they can. On the run from the local Mormon do-gooder Search&Rescue crew, the FBI, the National Park Service and anybody else they run into, the quartet is likeable, entertaining and extremely enjoyable.
The dialogue is massive. Dialogue drives the book, and it never clunks and is often wildly witty. There are more turns of phrase that make you gasp and laugh than anything else I've read.
The one female character is written perhaps a bit more sexist than you would find today, though she is certainly her own woman. The three men are all unique and grand personalities.
Monkey Wrench Gang compares well to Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas - less trippy, but just as grand and impactful. Less weird, more witty.
Second, as a call-to-arms for environmental anarchism: I suspect that to some, this novel is dangerous. The characters should be darker, less idealistic. The impact of their approach should be interpreted more brutally.
But.
I think the novel provides a challenging commentary on American consumerism and our unwillingness to stop and consider the cost of our lifestyle. That it's packaged in a fun adventure story with amazing dialogue makes it all the more subversive.
One, as a novel. Edwards Abbey writes a blazing, funny, madcap zany story of a group of four anarchist friends, hell-bent to stop the development of the southwest wilderness by crushing dams, bridges, power plants and anything else they can. On the run from the local Mormon do-gooder Search&Rescue crew, the FBI, the National Park Service and anybody else they run into, the quartet is likeable, entertaining and extremely enjoyable.
The dialogue is massive. Dialogue drives the book, and it never clunks and is often wildly witty. There are more turns of phrase that make you gasp and laugh than anything else I've read.
The one female character is written perhaps a bit more sexist than you would find today, though she is certainly her own woman. The three men are all unique and grand personalities.
Monkey Wrench Gang compares well to Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas - less trippy, but just as grand and impactful. Less weird, more witty.
Second, as a call-to-arms for environmental anarchism: I suspect that to some, this novel is dangerous. The characters should be darker, less idealistic. The impact of their approach should be interpreted more brutally.
But.
I think the novel provides a challenging commentary on American consumerism and our unwillingness to stop and consider the cost of our lifestyle. That it's packaged in a fun adventure story with amazing dialogue makes it all the more subversive.
October 4, 2019
The Lone Ranger crossed sweetly with a tale of heroic ecoterrorists. And it's funny. My reading experience was greatly enhanced by this edition with its drawings by R. Crumb.
February 2, 2024
A monkey wrench, thrown into the gears of a large machine, can bring the whole machine to a grinding and screeching halt. And four people from four very different walks of life improbably come together to throw lots of monkey wrenches (proverbially speaking) into the workings of many large machines, as a practical expression of their opposition to the ongoing industrial development (or exploitation, or spoiling) of the American West. Whether one refers to what these people are doing as “eco-terrorism” or “ecotage,” Edward Abbey describes their activities in a vivid and detailed manner in his 1975 novel The Monkey Wrench Gang.
Abbey was originally from Pennsylvania, but when the time approached for his induction into the United States Army, he decamped for the American Southwest – the region with which he would forever after be identified. From his father (a man with the appropriately Revolutionary name of Paul Revere Abbey), Edward Abbey imbibed anarchist ideas that would inform his writing. In non-fiction works like Desert Solitaire (1968), he expressed his concern that the greed and acquisitiveness of U.S. industrialists threatened to destroy the irreplaceable natural beauty of the American West. The Monkey Wrench Gang shows four wild Western individualists taking action against that sort of industrial hegemony.
The Monkey Wrench Gang starts with a quite literal bang – the destruction of a bridge at its opening, while the governors of Arizona and Utah look on. The talk of the angry governors make clear that these acts of sabotage have been going on for some time. From there, the book’s narrator tracks back, to provide the background stories of the four people who come together, under seemingly unlikely circumstances, to make up the Monkey Wrench Gang.
The first members of the gang that we meet are Dr. A.K. Sarvis, a successful Albuquerque physician, and his nurse-turned-lover Bonnie Abbzug. Dr. Sarvis will contribute financing for the project, along with part of the gang’s ideological underpinnings: he has a way of speaking in vaguely Marxian terms, as when he says at one point regarding the group’s planning that “We’ll work it out as we go along. Let our practice form our doctrine, thus assuring precise theoretical coherence” (p. 68).
For her part, Bonnie Abbzug brings to the project an outsider’s perspective. As a transplanted New Yorker of Jewish heritage, she feels very much an outsider in this not-very-diverse part of the American Southwest; as an intelligent and strong-willed woman, she is tired of men seeing her only in terms of her considerable beauty and sexual allure. The book’s narrator says of Bonnie that “she had learned that she was searching not for transformation (she liked herself) but for something good to do” (p. 41).
We see Sarvis and Bonnie, at the beginning of the novel, taking the Interstate out of Albuquerque and cutting down the billboards that disfigure the desert landscape. Soon, however, they will graduate to more grandiose methods of resistance.
The third member of the Monkey Wrench Gang is Joseph Fielding Smith, whose given name the reader may forget over the course of the book, as he is invariably referred to as “Seldom Seen” Smith. He is a “jack Mormon” – meaning someone who was born and raised Mormon, but has left the Latter-Day Saints. When not visiting one of his three wives, he works as a travel guide who leads groups of tourists down the Colorado River and through the Grand Canyon, and he will bring to the Monkey Wrench Gang his thoroughgoing knowledge of the Southwestern landscape. He also possesses a wry sense of humour and a quiet self-confidence, as when he mentions that “I thought I was wrong once…but I found out later I was mistaken” (p. 90).
The fourth member of the Monkey Wrench Gang is George Washington Hayduke. A Green Beret veteran of the Vietnam War, Hayduke brings to the project a flair for action and an anarchic, devil-may-care attitude toward life generally. As just one example of Hayduke’s wildness, he likes driving fast while drinking beer, and even measures the distance between towns in six-packs: “Since the ultimate goal of transport technology is the annihilation of space, the compression of all Being into one pure point, it follows that six-packs help. Speed is the ultimate drug and rockets run on alcohol. Hayduke had formulated this theory all by himself” (p. 18). His philosophy on drinking-and-driving is “If you don’t drink, don’t drive. If you drink, drive like hell. Why? Because freedom, not safety, is the highest good” (p. 27).
These four people meet on one of Seldom Seen Smith’s guided tours of the Colorado River and the Grand Canyon, and they quickly discover a shared outlook regarding the industrial degrading of the American West’s natural beauty. Doctor Sarvis, sipping on a bourbon-and-ice on the trip downriver, shares his philosophy on life and the wilderness in a manner that all four members of the group tend to agree with:
“The wilderness once offered men a plausible way of life,” the doctor said. “Now it functions as a psychiatric refuge. Soon there will be no wilderness.” He sipped at his bourbon and ice. “Soon there will be no place to go. Then the madness becomes universal.” Another thought. “And the universe goes mad.” (p. 63)
Sarvis, Bonnie, Smith, and Hayduke agree to make war, through sabotage, on the industrial concerns that are despoiling the West. Their initial missions are surprisingly successful, even as they place the members of the group in a no-going-back mode that inflicts its own costs. After the group’s first operation, Heyduke ponders the possible long-term consequences of his radical-individualist vision of freedom: “For even Hayduke sensed, when he faced the thing directly, that the total loner would go insane. Was insane. Somewhere in the depths of solitude, beyond wildness and freedom, lay the trap of madness” (p. 113).
Abbey generates suspense well as he chronicles the Monkey Wrench Gang’s depredations. In one scene, about halfway through the book, Hayduke prepares to witness the destruction of a bridge just as a mineral-company locomotive is passing over it – a stylistic flourish that will garner publicity, even as it increases the damage done to the company’s public-relations profile and economic health. The intelligence that they have gathered has led them to believe that the automatically-operated train will be unoccupied; but then George Hayduke, watching as the train approaches the bridge, makes a horrifying discovery:
[He] sees…the face of a man at an open window in the side of the locomotive, the face of a man at an open window in the cab of the locomotive, a man looking up at him, a young man with smooth, tanned and cheery countenance, good teeth, clear eyes, wearing a billed cap and tan twill workshirt open at the neck. True to all tradition, like a brave engineer, the young man returns Hayduke’s wave.
Heart shocked to a stop, brain blanked dead, Hayduke dives into earth with hands locked over skull, waits for the earth to move, shock wave to come, projectiles to flutter past his plugged ears, the cordite odors creeping up his nose; waits for the screaming to begin. Anger, more than horror, numbs his mind.
They lied, he thinks, the sons of bitches lied! (p. 201)
Abbey’s sympathy for the ecoteurs is palpable, but I appreciated his willingness to engage the ethical complexity of the group’s activities. The environmentally concerned reader may derive a transgressive thrill from indulging in a wish-fulfillment fantasy about hitting major polluting companies in the pocketbook; but in real life, violence against property can end up hurting people as well, even if unintentionally.
As the damage inflicted by the gang increases, with an accompanying media focus on the gang’s activities, the authorities’ search for the gang intensifies, and the reader starts to sense that the story may be proceeding along a trajectory like that of classic outlaw movies like Bonnie and Clyde (1967) or Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid (1969); the outlaws may have our sympathies, but the law has the numbers and the resources and the money, and sooner or later (to borrow a gambling metaphor) the house always wins.
One Bishop Love, a Mormon bishop with political ambitions, is among the leaders of the effort to apprehend the ecoteurs. In response, the gang members come up with increasingly creative ways to escape their pursuers. At one point, when the gang is seemingly cornered in a side canyon, Seldom Seen Smith leads his colleagues in walking backwards across their own footprints, to conceal the fact that they have left the canyon.
“Hurry it up,” Hayduke whispers.
Doc comes, shambling heavily, backward, watching his big feet. Bonnie walks beside him, reversing her steps with grace and care. Then, finally, Hayduke. He joins his friends. All four stand on rock and admire for a moment the trail they have invented. Clearly, four people have walked out of this side canyon.
“You think a trick like that will fool a bunch of grown men?” Bonnie asks.
Seldom allows himself a cautious smile. “Well now, honey, if Love was by himself I’d say no, you wouldn’t fool him so easy. But with his Team it’s different. One man alone can be pretty dumb sometimes, but for real bona fide stupidity there ain’t nothing can beat teamwork.” (p. 368)
The chase intensifies, and inevitably approaches its end, until one character, who seems to be hopelessly trapped high atop a canyon rim, looks
…over the brink and sees, five hundred vertical feet below, a semi-liquid red frothy mass of mud hurling itself in a torrent down the canyon floor, a wall-to-wall flash flood hurtling around the bend, thundering over the jump-off, roaring toward the hidden Green River….Rolling boulders clash and clack beneath the surge, logs float past, uprooted trees pitching on the waves…not much worse jumping into a river of lava. (p. 402)
Can this character survive this seemingly unsurvivable dilemma? You’ll have to read the novel to find out.
I read The Monkey Wrench Gang while on a visit to Arizona. Touring Grand Canyon National Park, I imagined Sarvis and Bonnie and Smith and Hayduke rafting down the Coiorado River and discovering, quite unexpectedly, that they have ecotage ambitions in common. The beauty of the canyon is magical and overwhelming. A drive through the outskirts of Phoenix and Tucson, by contrast, showed a great deal of the kind of human-generated environmental degradation that set the Monkey Wrench Gang on their path.
Today, the term “monkeywrenching” is in vogue among some of the more militant members of the environmental movement, as a reference to ecotage of the kind dramatized in Abbey’s novel. In an era when global climate change threatens all life on Earth, The Monkey Wrench Gang’s questions regarding how to respond to ever-accelerating environmental degradation are as relevant, and as troubling, as ever.
Abbey was originally from Pennsylvania, but when the time approached for his induction into the United States Army, he decamped for the American Southwest – the region with which he would forever after be identified. From his father (a man with the appropriately Revolutionary name of Paul Revere Abbey), Edward Abbey imbibed anarchist ideas that would inform his writing. In non-fiction works like Desert Solitaire (1968), he expressed his concern that the greed and acquisitiveness of U.S. industrialists threatened to destroy the irreplaceable natural beauty of the American West. The Monkey Wrench Gang shows four wild Western individualists taking action against that sort of industrial hegemony.
The Monkey Wrench Gang starts with a quite literal bang – the destruction of a bridge at its opening, while the governors of Arizona and Utah look on. The talk of the angry governors make clear that these acts of sabotage have been going on for some time. From there, the book’s narrator tracks back, to provide the background stories of the four people who come together, under seemingly unlikely circumstances, to make up the Monkey Wrench Gang.
The first members of the gang that we meet are Dr. A.K. Sarvis, a successful Albuquerque physician, and his nurse-turned-lover Bonnie Abbzug. Dr. Sarvis will contribute financing for the project, along with part of the gang’s ideological underpinnings: he has a way of speaking in vaguely Marxian terms, as when he says at one point regarding the group’s planning that “We’ll work it out as we go along. Let our practice form our doctrine, thus assuring precise theoretical coherence” (p. 68).
For her part, Bonnie Abbzug brings to the project an outsider’s perspective. As a transplanted New Yorker of Jewish heritage, she feels very much an outsider in this not-very-diverse part of the American Southwest; as an intelligent and strong-willed woman, she is tired of men seeing her only in terms of her considerable beauty and sexual allure. The book’s narrator says of Bonnie that “she had learned that she was searching not for transformation (she liked herself) but for something good to do” (p. 41).
We see Sarvis and Bonnie, at the beginning of the novel, taking the Interstate out of Albuquerque and cutting down the billboards that disfigure the desert landscape. Soon, however, they will graduate to more grandiose methods of resistance.
The third member of the Monkey Wrench Gang is Joseph Fielding Smith, whose given name the reader may forget over the course of the book, as he is invariably referred to as “Seldom Seen” Smith. He is a “jack Mormon” – meaning someone who was born and raised Mormon, but has left the Latter-Day Saints. When not visiting one of his three wives, he works as a travel guide who leads groups of tourists down the Colorado River and through the Grand Canyon, and he will bring to the Monkey Wrench Gang his thoroughgoing knowledge of the Southwestern landscape. He also possesses a wry sense of humour and a quiet self-confidence, as when he mentions that “I thought I was wrong once…but I found out later I was mistaken” (p. 90).
The fourth member of the Monkey Wrench Gang is George Washington Hayduke. A Green Beret veteran of the Vietnam War, Hayduke brings to the project a flair for action and an anarchic, devil-may-care attitude toward life generally. As just one example of Hayduke’s wildness, he likes driving fast while drinking beer, and even measures the distance between towns in six-packs: “Since the ultimate goal of transport technology is the annihilation of space, the compression of all Being into one pure point, it follows that six-packs help. Speed is the ultimate drug and rockets run on alcohol. Hayduke had formulated this theory all by himself” (p. 18). His philosophy on drinking-and-driving is “If you don’t drink, don’t drive. If you drink, drive like hell. Why? Because freedom, not safety, is the highest good” (p. 27).
These four people meet on one of Seldom Seen Smith’s guided tours of the Colorado River and the Grand Canyon, and they quickly discover a shared outlook regarding the industrial degrading of the American West’s natural beauty. Doctor Sarvis, sipping on a bourbon-and-ice on the trip downriver, shares his philosophy on life and the wilderness in a manner that all four members of the group tend to agree with:
“The wilderness once offered men a plausible way of life,” the doctor said. “Now it functions as a psychiatric refuge. Soon there will be no wilderness.” He sipped at his bourbon and ice. “Soon there will be no place to go. Then the madness becomes universal.” Another thought. “And the universe goes mad.” (p. 63)
Sarvis, Bonnie, Smith, and Hayduke agree to make war, through sabotage, on the industrial concerns that are despoiling the West. Their initial missions are surprisingly successful, even as they place the members of the group in a no-going-back mode that inflicts its own costs. After the group’s first operation, Heyduke ponders the possible long-term consequences of his radical-individualist vision of freedom: “For even Hayduke sensed, when he faced the thing directly, that the total loner would go insane. Was insane. Somewhere in the depths of solitude, beyond wildness and freedom, lay the trap of madness” (p. 113).
Abbey generates suspense well as he chronicles the Monkey Wrench Gang’s depredations. In one scene, about halfway through the book, Hayduke prepares to witness the destruction of a bridge just as a mineral-company locomotive is passing over it – a stylistic flourish that will garner publicity, even as it increases the damage done to the company’s public-relations profile and economic health. The intelligence that they have gathered has led them to believe that the automatically-operated train will be unoccupied; but then George Hayduke, watching as the train approaches the bridge, makes a horrifying discovery:
[He] sees…the face of a man at an open window in the side of the locomotive, the face of a man at an open window in the cab of the locomotive, a man looking up at him, a young man with smooth, tanned and cheery countenance, good teeth, clear eyes, wearing a billed cap and tan twill workshirt open at the neck. True to all tradition, like a brave engineer, the young man returns Hayduke’s wave.
Heart shocked to a stop, brain blanked dead, Hayduke dives into earth with hands locked over skull, waits for the earth to move, shock wave to come, projectiles to flutter past his plugged ears, the cordite odors creeping up his nose; waits for the screaming to begin. Anger, more than horror, numbs his mind.
They lied, he thinks, the sons of bitches lied! (p. 201)
Abbey’s sympathy for the ecoteurs is palpable, but I appreciated his willingness to engage the ethical complexity of the group’s activities. The environmentally concerned reader may derive a transgressive thrill from indulging in a wish-fulfillment fantasy about hitting major polluting companies in the pocketbook; but in real life, violence against property can end up hurting people as well, even if unintentionally.
As the damage inflicted by the gang increases, with an accompanying media focus on the gang’s activities, the authorities’ search for the gang intensifies, and the reader starts to sense that the story may be proceeding along a trajectory like that of classic outlaw movies like Bonnie and Clyde (1967) or Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid (1969); the outlaws may have our sympathies, but the law has the numbers and the resources and the money, and sooner or later (to borrow a gambling metaphor) the house always wins.
One Bishop Love, a Mormon bishop with political ambitions, is among the leaders of the effort to apprehend the ecoteurs. In response, the gang members come up with increasingly creative ways to escape their pursuers. At one point, when the gang is seemingly cornered in a side canyon, Seldom Seen Smith leads his colleagues in walking backwards across their own footprints, to conceal the fact that they have left the canyon.
“Hurry it up,” Hayduke whispers.
Doc comes, shambling heavily, backward, watching his big feet. Bonnie walks beside him, reversing her steps with grace and care. Then, finally, Hayduke. He joins his friends. All four stand on rock and admire for a moment the trail they have invented. Clearly, four people have walked out of this side canyon.
“You think a trick like that will fool a bunch of grown men?” Bonnie asks.
Seldom allows himself a cautious smile. “Well now, honey, if Love was by himself I’d say no, you wouldn’t fool him so easy. But with his Team it’s different. One man alone can be pretty dumb sometimes, but for real bona fide stupidity there ain’t nothing can beat teamwork.” (p. 368)
The chase intensifies, and inevitably approaches its end, until one character, who seems to be hopelessly trapped high atop a canyon rim, looks
…over the brink and sees, five hundred vertical feet below, a semi-liquid red frothy mass of mud hurling itself in a torrent down the canyon floor, a wall-to-wall flash flood hurtling around the bend, thundering over the jump-off, roaring toward the hidden Green River….Rolling boulders clash and clack beneath the surge, logs float past, uprooted trees pitching on the waves…not much worse jumping into a river of lava. (p. 402)
Can this character survive this seemingly unsurvivable dilemma? You’ll have to read the novel to find out.
I read The Monkey Wrench Gang while on a visit to Arizona. Touring Grand Canyon National Park, I imagined Sarvis and Bonnie and Smith and Hayduke rafting down the Coiorado River and discovering, quite unexpectedly, that they have ecotage ambitions in common. The beauty of the canyon is magical and overwhelming. A drive through the outskirts of Phoenix and Tucson, by contrast, showed a great deal of the kind of human-generated environmental degradation that set the Monkey Wrench Gang on their path.
Today, the term “monkeywrenching” is in vogue among some of the more militant members of the environmental movement, as a reference to ecotage of the kind dramatized in Abbey’s novel. In an era when global climate change threatens all life on Earth, The Monkey Wrench Gang’s questions regarding how to respond to ever-accelerating environmental degradation are as relevant, and as troubling, as ever.
January 15, 2022
I'd read Abbey's 'Desert Solitude', his book about living at the Arches on the Colorado, years ago at a friend's recommendation. Also, I'd admired Earth First, the radical environmentalist organization partly inspired by Abbey, long believing speciesism (favoring humans over other animals) ethically dubious. So, when two copies of his most famous novel appeared at Heirloom Books, I picked this one as something to read during slow times at the shop.
I was disappointed. Abbey writes well enough but not to my tastes. His long, detailed descriptions of heavy machinery, while indicating his familiarity with aspects of engineering and road construction, were too much for me while his prolix descriptions of desert environments became redundant after a while. The book is comic, but not in tune to my funny bone. The characters have no believable depth, seemingly more archetypal than realistic. I had to force myself to finish the thing.
I was also disappointed that it was all set in the southwest, in Utah mostly. Fortunately, I've been to Moab on camped along the Colorado, but I'd expected, being informed, I thought, by Earth First's actions against the tree harvesting industry, that there'd be some action in the Pacific northwest. But, no...no tree spiking here.
Finally, one must admit that this is a novel about what we commonly call 'terrorism' today, the protagonists having an insufficiently thought-out agenda as regards the proper place for humanity in the natural world and no explicitly agreed upon set of ethical standards by which to weigh the conflicting rights of various persons, groups and interests, including non-human ones. Indeed, there's even a willingness to kill others on the part of one of them and some near misses in that regard and, besides that, that character is a chronic litterer--in the 'unspoiled wilderness' even! (I very much dislike litterers). In addition to this the book has what might charitably be described as 'dated' ideas about relations between the sexes. The one major female character is raped by one of her lovers with no apparent harm done from the author's perspective, for instance.
Still, it's good that there's literature which calls into question, however fitfully, the human conceit that the planet and all its inhabitants are there for us to treat as we will.
I was disappointed. Abbey writes well enough but not to my tastes. His long, detailed descriptions of heavy machinery, while indicating his familiarity with aspects of engineering and road construction, were too much for me while his prolix descriptions of desert environments became redundant after a while. The book is comic, but not in tune to my funny bone. The characters have no believable depth, seemingly more archetypal than realistic. I had to force myself to finish the thing.
I was also disappointed that it was all set in the southwest, in Utah mostly. Fortunately, I've been to Moab on camped along the Colorado, but I'd expected, being informed, I thought, by Earth First's actions against the tree harvesting industry, that there'd be some action in the Pacific northwest. But, no...no tree spiking here.
Finally, one must admit that this is a novel about what we commonly call 'terrorism' today, the protagonists having an insufficiently thought-out agenda as regards the proper place for humanity in the natural world and no explicitly agreed upon set of ethical standards by which to weigh the conflicting rights of various persons, groups and interests, including non-human ones. Indeed, there's even a willingness to kill others on the part of one of them and some near misses in that regard and, besides that, that character is a chronic litterer--in the 'unspoiled wilderness' even! (I very much dislike litterers). In addition to this the book has what might charitably be described as 'dated' ideas about relations between the sexes. The one major female character is raped by one of her lovers with no apparent harm done from the author's perspective, for instance.
Still, it's good that there's literature which calls into question, however fitfully, the human conceit that the planet and all its inhabitants are there for us to treat as we will.
October 27, 2022
La gang della chiave inglese
Chissà cosa penserebbe Edward Abbey, scomparso da più di 30 anni, di quanto sta succedendo oggi, con la natura che (finalmente, direbbe lui…) si ribella sul serio alla prolungata incosciente devastazione da parte della specie umana? Chissà, a quasi mezzo secolo dall’uscita di questo romanzo, se come accadde alla sua pubblicazione si possa ancora stigmatizzarne l’influenza che ebbe nell’ispirare i movimenti più estremisti di difesa della natura, fino e oltre le soglie dell’ecoterrorismo vero e proprio.
Valutare I sabotatori in chiave politica è riduttivo ma inevitabile. Il romanzo infatti, oltre ad essere un divertente e originale racconto d’azione ed avventura ambientato in uno dei territori più affascinanti della terra (mi son perso per ore su Google map ad esplorare fra i canyon dello Utah gli strepitosi luoghi descritti!), si spinge talmente in là nella meticolosa e quasi manualistica descrizione di materiali e sistemi per distruggere un ponte, un bulldozer o una diga, da indurre a riflessioni sul ruolo dell’autore.
Fra i numerosi impieghi con cui Abbey sostentò sé stesso e la sua numerosa famiglia spicca il lavoro di ranger e guida presso diversi parchi Nazionali, dato che lo accomuna a uno dei protagonisti del libro e accresce il dubbio se Abbey si sia limitato ad essere il fautore di un’estrema ideologia libertaria, naturista e individualista con evidenti implicazioni anarchiche, alla Thoreau per intenderci, o se la sovrapposizione col personaggio si sia estesa a una diretta partecipazione ad azioni di sabotaggio.
Poco importa; dal punto di vista strettamente narrativo, I sabotatori sconta soprattutto nella prima parte un debito evidente col classico racconto su una gang dalla formazione tutt’altro che inedita (il reduce dal Vietnam, l’intellettuale, la ragazza sexy, l’ex ranger esperto dei luoghi…) alle prese con un obiettivo comune che altrove abbiamo visto coincidere con una banca o qualcosa di simile, qui è rappresentato dalle attività umane che infieriscono sulla natura. Poi, soprattutto nella seconda parte, il romanzo si sviluppa nei topoi della fuga e della caccia all’uomo, attraverso espedienti fantasiosi che rendono i protagonisti quasi inafferrabili e ridicolizzano le preponderanti “forze dell’ordine” fino a un finale…da spoiler.
Il tono è un equilibrato mix di drammatico, umoristico, esistenziale dove azioni e riflessioni si alternano forse un po’ troppo a lungo, ma funziona anche come entertainement spingendo a fare il tifo per i fuggitivi, a prescindere dalle valutazioni etiche e politiche sul loro operato.
Basta guardare la bella faccia beffarda di Abbey, così come appare nella pagina stessa di goodreads, per capire come al tipo poco interessasse della propria reputazione. Per dirla con la calzante definizione che accompagna un altro libro dell’autore, Abbey sembra osservarci “…con gli occhi di un Thoreau disilluso, ci ricorda come la fragile meraviglia della natura venga sempre minacciata dal potere, e ci ricorda il costo e la gioia che si provano lottando per difenderla.”
Chissà cosa penserebbe Edward Abbey, scomparso da più di 30 anni, di quanto sta succedendo oggi, con la natura che (finalmente, direbbe lui…) si ribella sul serio alla prolungata incosciente devastazione da parte della specie umana? Chissà, a quasi mezzo secolo dall’uscita di questo romanzo, se come accadde alla sua pubblicazione si possa ancora stigmatizzarne l’influenza che ebbe nell’ispirare i movimenti più estremisti di difesa della natura, fino e oltre le soglie dell’ecoterrorismo vero e proprio.
Valutare I sabotatori in chiave politica è riduttivo ma inevitabile. Il romanzo infatti, oltre ad essere un divertente e originale racconto d’azione ed avventura ambientato in uno dei territori più affascinanti della terra (mi son perso per ore su Google map ad esplorare fra i canyon dello Utah gli strepitosi luoghi descritti!), si spinge talmente in là nella meticolosa e quasi manualistica descrizione di materiali e sistemi per distruggere un ponte, un bulldozer o una diga, da indurre a riflessioni sul ruolo dell’autore.
Fra i numerosi impieghi con cui Abbey sostentò sé stesso e la sua numerosa famiglia spicca il lavoro di ranger e guida presso diversi parchi Nazionali, dato che lo accomuna a uno dei protagonisti del libro e accresce il dubbio se Abbey si sia limitato ad essere il fautore di un’estrema ideologia libertaria, naturista e individualista con evidenti implicazioni anarchiche, alla Thoreau per intenderci, o se la sovrapposizione col personaggio si sia estesa a una diretta partecipazione ad azioni di sabotaggio.
Poco importa; dal punto di vista strettamente narrativo, I sabotatori sconta soprattutto nella prima parte un debito evidente col classico racconto su una gang dalla formazione tutt’altro che inedita (il reduce dal Vietnam, l’intellettuale, la ragazza sexy, l’ex ranger esperto dei luoghi…) alle prese con un obiettivo comune che altrove abbiamo visto coincidere con una banca o qualcosa di simile, qui è rappresentato dalle attività umane che infieriscono sulla natura. Poi, soprattutto nella seconda parte, il romanzo si sviluppa nei topoi della fuga e della caccia all’uomo, attraverso espedienti fantasiosi che rendono i protagonisti quasi inafferrabili e ridicolizzano le preponderanti “forze dell’ordine” fino a un finale…da spoiler.
Il tono è un equilibrato mix di drammatico, umoristico, esistenziale dove azioni e riflessioni si alternano forse un po’ troppo a lungo, ma funziona anche come entertainement spingendo a fare il tifo per i fuggitivi, a prescindere dalle valutazioni etiche e politiche sul loro operato.
Basta guardare la bella faccia beffarda di Abbey, così come appare nella pagina stessa di goodreads, per capire come al tipo poco interessasse della propria reputazione. Per dirla con la calzante definizione che accompagna un altro libro dell’autore, Abbey sembra osservarci “…con gli occhi di un Thoreau disilluso, ci ricorda come la fragile meraviglia della natura venga sempre minacciata dal potere, e ci ricorda il costo e la gioia che si provano lottando per difenderla.”
March 1, 2018
I don't know...this book really is funny at times, and he has a very engrossing (if at times somewhat exhaustive) way of describing the southwest landscape; however, it's really just too long and rambling and boring for me. Plus, I wasn't quite sure what to do with the casual racism and sexism that's sprinkled throughout the book. I know Abbey was a satirist, so perhaps there is an element of satire involved in pointing out the racism of the white characters on both sides of the conflict (the developers/capitalists and the eco-anarchists). But it wasn't overtly critiqued either. So that's troublesome.
December 31, 2023
Royally pissed off at the wholesale rape of the American landscape in the name of progress, industrialisation and capitalism, a disgruntled Vietnam vet, a lapsed Mormon, an ornery doctor whose leisure activity is burning billboards, and a Jewish gentile feminist band together to propagate a protest movement based on the simple expedient of fucking up earth moving equipment, destroying supply chains, driving bulldozers into lakes and blowing up bridges. Non-PC, cheerfully vulgar and caring not one jot whom it might offend, ‘The Monkey Wrench Gang’ is as solid a contender as I’ve yet come across for the Great American Novel.
March 24, 2025
I’m glad I read this at this time. With all of the cutbacks and illegal firings of federal employees, this put a new perspective on how environmentalism tactics and support have changed to supporting government agencies doing land management and protection as more people join the us.
This book bored me with its pure focus on destroying things and hyper sexualization and fixation on Bonnie’s character. But ! It made me consider my environmental ethics and why I believe what I do, and how that would probably have been different in the mid 1900s.
This book bored me with its pure focus on destroying things and hyper sexualization and fixation on Bonnie’s character. But ! It made me consider my environmental ethics and why I believe what I do, and how that would probably have been different in the mid 1900s.
August 9, 2008
OK I'll try not to say what other reviewers have said. First of all, I loved the drama, the ideas, the characters, but I didn't buy the ending at all so I deducted a star. The other star was deducted because of the at times clunky writing and I think the character's histories merited further discussion.
First what I liked: The plot is riveting, to the point of agonizing. You just want them to call it quits and save themselves! It can get a little bogged down in technical descriptions. Stylistically, it was reminiscent of a lot of old Western stories. In this work, the West is now the last essentially in tact wilderness in the U.S. At one point they even say something like, "The East is lost".
For me, the ideas in this book (environmentalism, anarchism, freedom, gender, sense of place, survival, sin, hypocrisy, etc) make this one of the most exciting, relevant, and rewarding reads I have had in a while.
I did see the sexism in the work, but considering the time frame (1970's), it wasn't all that out of place. Bonnie herself was just as strong and interesting as any of the characters.
However, I deducted one star because I felt the characters needed more of a history. The book basically starts off with Doc burning signs and right there, I felt that a disconnect existed. Why was he doing it? I know doctors that care about the environment. They don't burn down billboards for fun.
(SPOILER ALERT)
Secondly, I deducted a star because the ending really betrayed the ideas in this story. I don't believe Hayduke would have returned, nor would they have saw themselves as "victoriuos", nor would they probably have kept at it.
The characters to me, were essentially tragic ones. Yet when Hayduke returns, like the Lone Ranger, its just cliche and not what was being built up. His whole character was built up to have this death-wish syndrome and it was very realistically done. I just felt that I had been tricked into agonizing over this character, who it turns out, wasn't really in too much trouble.
The other characters were tragic as well. I mean there is just no discussion about how Bonnie's family felt or how their reputations were affected. In American society, getting sentenced by a court of law, as the characters did, is a tragedy.
Lastly, the result of all their actions was the the prosecutor got elected to office and goes on to make development a huge priority! So that's a tragedy for their cause as well. That is environment that you can't just "regrow."
So unreal was the ending, that I actually read it almost as if it was a dream, almost expecting Doc to be hallucinating.
(UPDATE: I just took a look at the reviews for the sequel to this book, titled "Hayduke Lives!" and was not surprised to find they consistently mention how the book fails to live up to the first, in that they didn't like the further development of Hayduke.)
First what I liked: The plot is riveting, to the point of agonizing. You just want them to call it quits and save themselves! It can get a little bogged down in technical descriptions. Stylistically, it was reminiscent of a lot of old Western stories. In this work, the West is now the last essentially in tact wilderness in the U.S. At one point they even say something like, "The East is lost".
For me, the ideas in this book (environmentalism, anarchism, freedom, gender, sense of place, survival, sin, hypocrisy, etc) make this one of the most exciting, relevant, and rewarding reads I have had in a while.
I did see the sexism in the work, but considering the time frame (1970's), it wasn't all that out of place. Bonnie herself was just as strong and interesting as any of the characters.
However, I deducted one star because I felt the characters needed more of a history. The book basically starts off with Doc burning signs and right there, I felt that a disconnect existed. Why was he doing it? I know doctors that care about the environment. They don't burn down billboards for fun.
(SPOILER ALERT)
Secondly, I deducted a star because the ending really betrayed the ideas in this story. I don't believe Hayduke would have returned, nor would they have saw themselves as "victoriuos", nor would they probably have kept at it.
The characters to me, were essentially tragic ones. Yet when Hayduke returns, like the Lone Ranger, its just cliche and not what was being built up. His whole character was built up to have this death-wish syndrome and it was very realistically done. I just felt that I had been tricked into agonizing over this character, who it turns out, wasn't really in too much trouble.
The other characters were tragic as well. I mean there is just no discussion about how Bonnie's family felt or how their reputations were affected. In American society, getting sentenced by a court of law, as the characters did, is a tragedy.
Lastly, the result of all their actions was the the prosecutor got elected to office and goes on to make development a huge priority! So that's a tragedy for their cause as well. That is environment that you can't just "regrow."
So unreal was the ending, that I actually read it almost as if it was a dream, almost expecting Doc to be hallucinating.
(UPDATE: I just took a look at the reviews for the sequel to this book, titled "Hayduke Lives!" and was not surprised to find they consistently mention how the book fails to live up to the first, in that they didn't like the further development of Hayduke.)
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