Fionnuala’s review of Life On The Mississippi > Likes and Comments

I'm learning a bit of Americana from your jag with Twain, Fionnuala, :). I loved this bit: "He's very good at capturing these people in all their idiosyncratic reality so that we see them and hear them very clearly indeed." Writing seems like one of the most difficult things to do well because there are so many facets that need to come together. It's exciting when done well, and I admire this particular gift you describe. So glad to see you enjoying, thanks for sharing...

Thanks for reading through this too long review, Jennifer. I thought about cutting a 'chute' through the middle of it but that thought was nowhere as strong as the Mississippi! The nearest I got was the spoiler about chutes themselves ;-)
I wanted to write more about Twain's gift of sketching people and relaying their speech too so I might put some of his best people-watching bits in comments, as for example this one about a certain Mr Brown:
"And so on, by the hour, the man’s tongue would go. He could not forget any thing. It was simply impossible. The most trivial details remained as distinct and luminous in his head, after they had lain there for years, as the most memorable events. His was not simply a pilot’s memory; its grasp was universal. If he were talking about a trifling letter he had received seven years before, he was pretty sure to deliver you the entire screed from memory. And then without observing that he was departing from the true line of his talk, he was more than likely to hurl in a long-drawn parenthetical biography of the writer of that letter; and you were lucky indeed if he did not take up that writer’s relatives, one by one, and give you their biographies, too. Such a memory as that is a great misfortune. To it, all occurrences are of the same size. Its possessor cannot distinguish an interesting circumstance from an uninteresting one. As a talker, he is bound to clog his narrative with tiresome details and make himself an insufferable bore. Moreover, he cannot stick to his subject. He picks up every little grain of memory he discerns in his way, and so is led aside. Mr. Brown would start out with the honest intention of telling you a vastly funny anecdote about a dog. He would be ‘so full of laugh’ that he could hardly begin; then his memory would start with the dog’s breed and personal appearance; drift into a history of his owner; of his owner’s family, with descriptions of weddings and burials that had occurred in it, together with recitals of congratulatory verses and obituary poetry provoked by the same: then this memory would recollect that one of these events occurred during the celebrated ‘hard winter’ of such and such a year, and a minute description of that winter would follow, along with the names of people who were frozen to death, and statistics showing the high figures which pork and hay went up to. Pork and hay would suggest corn and fodder; corn and fodder would suggest cows and horses; cows and horses would suggest the circus and certain celebrated bare-back riders; the transition from the circus to the menagerie was easy and natural; from the elephant to equatorial Africa was but a step; then of course the heathen savages would suggest religion; and at the end of three or four hours’ tedious jaw, the watch would change, and Brown would go out of the pilot-house muttering extracts from sermons he had heard years before about the efficacy of prayer as a means of grace. And the original first mention would be all you had learned about that dog, after all this waiting and hungering."

I read this once, but I dont remember the sequel journey - maybe my edition made a shortcut. The experience seems to have created a persistent theme for Twain - Romantism and undercutting it?

Excellent review, Fee. In his finest work, Twain/Clemons combined a poetic prose style with keen observations of nature, the passage of time, memory and life's journey down a winding, evolving and often surprising river.

Jan-Maat wrote: "I read this once, but I dont remember the sequel journey - maybe my edition made a shortcut. The experience seems to have created a persistent theme for Twain - Romantism and undercutting it?"

The first half is definitely more memorable, Jan-Maat. And yes, even in the second half when he seems regretful about the changes that have taken place along the Mississippi, he still shows a keen interest in those changes. You'd imagine he'd studied engineering himself, he's so knowledgeable about all the systems that were being put in place to train the river and prevent soil erosion. He's a very interesting writer. Now that I've read four of his books, I realise that he had the ability to write in many different styles, and from a variety of viewpoints, regarding people and the place in the world they find themselves in.

What a great story on the author's name, Fionnuala - and as to the way of seeing things before and after analysing them through the lens of learning, like Clinton thought of art, I thought of how medical training might change one's view on the human body, from enjoying watching the graceful moves of a ballet dancer to become unable not also thinking about their bones, muscles and joints :).

Hey, I didn't know his father was in the railroad business! Thanks for the colourful review Fionnuala, it gives me the drive to read Huckleberry Finn some day! My copy is eying me from a shelf on my left at this very moment ;)

Gary wrote: "Excellent review, Fee. In his finest work, Twain/Clemens combined a poetic prose style with keen observations of nature, the passage of time, memory and life's journey down a winding, evolving and ..."

You clearly know his work very well, Gary. This is the only non-fiction I've read by him but I think I can say, after reading three of his fictions recently (and Tom Sawyer a long time ago), that I appreciate his non-fiction the most. I was bored by sections in each of his novels but never bored here, not even when he was talking about very boring people!

Interesting about interpretation of art, Fionnuala. I still find it counterintuitive. I think what totally kills the freshness of interpretation is not an experience, but professionalism. I think if one does some form of a criticism for money, that is the biggest risk:-). I’ve got distracted from Mr Twain and him being nostalgic:-). I have not read this but your review and the excerpts give quite a good overview of his style and interests. Elliot has written MiddleMarch after the railways, but it is set in 1830s before them. So she might as well has shown this world on the edge of a rupture. But it does not look that it is what Twain is interested here. I gathered he was a huge celebrity and gambled quite a bit loosing a fortune on a stock market. But he might leave all of this to his autobiography:-)

Learning to experience the great river…those were the days although I am sure it was nothing easy. Clemens the railway magnate in Missouri…now that I didn’t know. Thanks for your fine words Fionnuala.

Wonderful review. I didn't know the origins of his pen name. Interesting.

Ilse wrote: "...as to the way of seeing things before and after analysing them through the lens of learning, like Clinton thought of art, I thought of how medical training might change one's view on the human body, from enjoying watching the graceful moves of a ballet dancer to become unable not also thinking about their bones, muscles and joints..."

It's all a bit like growing up, isn't it, Ilse, our childish and romantic view of the world getting destroyed when we discover the realities of adult life. Once we know we can never unknow—like you with the ballet dancers:-(

P.E. wrote: "Hey, I didn't know his father was in the railroad business! Thanks for the colourful review Fionnuala, it gives me the drive to read Huckleberry Finn some day! My copy is eying me from a shelf..."

Well that's what Wikipedia told me, P.E. Mark Twain didn't mention his family at all in this book, not even when he went in search of his childhood down the streets and alleyways of his home town. It was as if he were a fictional character, born already a boy hanging out all day long with his gang and getting up to lots of mischief. You'll find out exactly the sort of mischief that was involved inside the pages of Huckleberry Finn:-)

Interesting history in Twain’s reflections on Hannibal Mo growth. It is an indicator of growth and attitude change. Missouri came into the Union as a slave state( along with Maine, formerly part of Massachusetts, entering as a free state. Yet by the civil war approximately 110000 soldiers fought for the Union while 30000 fought for the confederacy. Could this trend be linked to the population growth and commercial growth that Twain discussed in the early part of his book?

Nice job capturing the essence of the river (which in some ways captures the essence of Sam Clemens). Well, one aspect of Sam Clemens. Others come out in "Letters from the Earth," wherein the Creator and Satan talk about the damn human race, and "The Diaries of Adam & Eve." He really went to town on Christianity, but then forever felt the guilt of stealing his wife's religion which, he said, only frightened her more on her death bed. Oye.

What a pleasure reading your review, Fionnuala! I am glad you got so much pleasure from the book itself. Loved the spoiler passage like newly cut section of the river (or like the cut off bow?) and the comparisons between how he saw the river before and after eating the apple of the knowledge of (good and) evil navigation hazards ... I'm so looking forward to reading this book (which I hope will happen in 2026 finally).

It's fun to think about how, even today, the differences between MInnesota, Missouri and New Orleans are so vast. I, too, have been bored by Twain's fiction (with the exception of "A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court," but I was maybe ten years old when I read that and still easily impressed.) But I haven't read his nonfiction, and perhaps I should.

Wonderfully entertaining, informative, and insightful review of a book of the same traits, Fionnuala. Their respective readings are the perfect examples of when “to honour the pureness of our initial reactions”, relax our analytical reflexes, and just sit back and enjoy :)

Katia wrote: "Interesting about interpretation of art, Fionnuala. I still find it counterintuitive. I think what totally kills the freshness of interpretation is not an experience, but professionalism. I think if one does some form of a criticism for money, that is the biggest risk:-)..."

With art, as Clinton pointed out, it does help to know something of the movement the artist belonged to. But that shouldn't kill the freshness of our response indeed, Katia. Yes, those who write about art, or indeed literature, must find it a challenge to retain a fresh eye.

Interesting about Middlemarch being set before the railways. Eliot must have wanted to set that pre-railway time down for the record—since it was long gone when she was writing about it (and I felt her nostalgia for that time as I was reading, and thought there was a character who might have been based on her father). Perhaps that what motivated Twain here too: to set down a record of what the pre-railway time along the Mississippi was like. Though of course, he was also writing a personal memoir. The post-railway half is also very much a personal memoir, especially when he goes looking for his childhood in the greatly-changed city of Hannibal, but it's a very objective recording of changes in the river and in the river communities at the same time. I think this book must be a useful source for historians.
I didn't know anything about his later life, the gambling you mention, etc. But there was a section about passengers he met on the journey who were looking for investment in new commercial possibilities. One such was promoting a vegetable product to replace butter, and another told of a scheme to send cheap cottonseed oil to Europe, have it repackaged as olive oil and sent back to the States where it could be sold at a much higher price. He told those stories with such a cynical tone that it's hard to see him investing his own money in such things. But maybe the stock market was a different matter.

Fionnuala wrote: "Katia wrote: "Interesting about interpretation of art, Fionnuala. I still find it counterintuitive. I think what totally kills the freshness of interpretation is not an experience, but professional..."

How interesting, Fionnuala. I did not know much about him at all but not long time ago I've read a review of his biography Mark Twain. The bio itself seems to be a massive undertaking, almost a thousand pages. But what stayed with me from that article was how different his life was from whatever ideas/preconceptions i've had after reading a few of his books in childhood. I've just read a wiki article and it did confirm his lack of luck with different finance adventures. I do not want to repost it here in case you would like to find out in your own time:-) He also apparently was quite critical of Elliot's writing. But i guess no one would beat Nabokov in respect of being tongue-sharp towards the work of someone else not to his liking:-)

David wrote: "Learning to experience the great river…those were the days although I am sure it was nothing easy. Clemens the railway magnate in Missouri…now that I didn’t know. Thanks for your fine words Fionnuala."

Well, maybe not a railway magnate but when I looked up the town of Hannibal, Twain's father's name was mentioned in association with the railway developments there. Speaking of Hannibal, I'm reminded that the Carthaginian general of that name had his own efficient method of transporting goods across difficult terrain ;-)
Actually Twain mentions a town called New Carthage.

Linda wrote: "Wonderful review. I didn't know the origins of his pen name. Interesting."

He doesn't mention why he chose his name, Linda, but talks a lot about the importance to the pilot of the call from the man hanging the leaded rope over the side, especially in shallow parts of the river. Here's an excerpt:
"‘M-a-r-k three!... M-a-r-k three!... Quarter-less three!... Half twain!... Quarter twain!... M-a-r-k twain!... Quarter-less—’"
A quarter less twain was bad news indeed!

Daniel wrote: "Interesting history in Twain’s reflections on Hannibal Mo growth. It is an indicator of growth and attitude change. Missouri came into the Union as a slave state (along with Maine, formerly part of Massachusetts, entering as a free state). Yet by the civil war approximately 110000 soldiers fought for the Union while 30000 fought for the confederacy. Could this trend be linked to the population growth and commercial growth that Twain discussed in the early part of his book? ..."

I don't know the answer to that, Daniel. Twain skimmed over the war completely. There was hardly a reference to it—maybe because in the first part it hadn't happened yet and in the second, it was long over. I did notice he changed his vocabulary with regard to the Black population in the course of the book. Early on he referred to 'negroes', then he started using the term 'darkies', and finished up using the term 'coloured'. But he never spoke about Black people pejoratively—which he did about Irish people, but only in relation to their fondness for alcohol and for large funerals they couldn't afford. Oh, and their tiresome ability to hold forth on any topic. Ok, I'll stop now;-)

What a wonderful review, Fionnuala. I can't wait to read this (before an upcoming trip to the Mississippi). I had never heard that about the two fathom mark, or 'mark twain' - it's too perfect.
I appreciate the contrast between the two sunsets and the warning that comes with it. Something akin to that observation is what killed my interest in getting a PhD in literature many many years ago. At the same time, from the distance of another 180 years or so, I read both of Twain's passages with a certain nostalgia - the skills that seem so practical and un-aesthetic to him seem artisanal, lost, even artistic to me now. Imagine reading a river that way. It must be so different today, computerized, automatized, AI-ified. Not that I know -- I'm just indulging in my own imagination of the transformations that have continued even after the end of the "modern" world of the 1880s that seems so artful (in the sense of artifice) and art-less (in the sense of lacking the Romantic aesthetic sensibility) to him.

Others with ties to the American Midwest can probably also attest that the Mississippi is famously one of the more contorted and "engineered" rivers. The imprint of human intervention is all over its banks. When the flooding comes you can really hear some of the local frustrations about the river come out. So, I think it's insightful that you would pick out of Twain's writing some nostalgia for how the river was before people started trying to make it do what they wanted it to do.

Enjoyed the review, as always.

Ken wrote: "Nice job capturing the essence of the river (which in some ways captures the essence of Sam Clemens). Well, one aspect of Sam Clemens. Others come out in "Letters from the Earth," wherein the Creator and Satan talk about the damn human race, and "The Diaries of Adam & Eve." He really went to town on Christianity, but then forever felt the guilt of stealing his wife's religion which, he said, only frightened her more on her death bed..."

Thanks for all those pointers for where to go from here with Twain, Ken. Those titles remind me of a few books by José Saramago—maybe he was the 20th century equivalent of Mark Twain, constantly probing and questioning Christianity's hold on Europe.
I do think I prefer Twain in non-fiction mode, as in this book. Are those book you mentioned fiction or non fiction—I looked through several pages the goodreads listings of his work but couldn't see them.

Caterina wrote: "… Loved the spoiler passage like newly cut section of the river (or like the cut off bow?) and the comparisons between how he saw the river before and after eating the apple of the knowledge of (good and) evil navigation hazards..."

Ha, yes, that spoiler was more a of bow lake than the chute it described, Caterina! And that's a good 'apple of knowledge' analogy. I'm for eating the apple in most cases but for retaining childlike reactions of awe as much as possible too. I think we can do both:-)

Left Coast Justin wrote: "It's fun to think about how, even today, the differences between MInnesota, Missouri and New Orleans are so vast. I, too, have been bored by Twain's fiction (with the exception of "A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court," but I was maybe ten years old when I read that and still easily impressed.).."

The river is so long, isn't it, Justin, and draws tributary water from almost the entire US, at least east of the Rockies. I had never realised how important a geographical feature it was.
Maybe Twain's fiction needs to be read when we're very young. I did enjoy a lot of Huck Finn recently but got tired of it in the end. Same with The Prince and the Pauper. But this book entranced me all the way through. Ok, I didn't read the material in the long appendix...

I still hear music every time I read one of your reviews, Fionnuala, and this one brings Joni Mitchell's mournful "I wish I had a river/I could skate away on ... " (I suppose they would have no problem skating away, in this deep freeze we're having, from the northern states. I wonder how far she'd get before having to switch to water skis. ; - ) )

I read this so long ago, it definitely bears re-reading, but I have enjoyed the journey with you. I read it at a time when it was all things Twain. (I probably overindulged.) In my mind, I've often thought of Twain as an "American Dickens", and no doubt others have as well: his facility with the people's dialects, his incomparable ability to draw real, lasting characters, (and caricatures), his morality, his life lessons.

But there is more bite to Twain, which is what I have loved in his works. (Letters from the Earth (as Ken has mentioned above) has bite that positively leaves toothmarks.

Wonderful review, which sends me back to my beginnings, in more ways than one.

Fionnuala wrote: "Thanks for reading through this too long review, Jennifer. I thought about cutting a 'chute' through the middle of it but that thought was nowhere as strong as the Mississippi! The nearest I got wa..."

This is what it's like to converse with my mother, lol! I can't wait to read it to her, we're going to have a good laugh. And yes, I love all the ways people are conveyed by talented writers, and how many facets there are to be looked at. Thanks so much for sharing that, Fionnuala.

Violeta wrote: "Wonderfully entertaining, informative, and insightful review of a book of the same traits, Fionnuala. Their respective readings are the perfect examples of when “to honour the pureness of our initial reactions”, relax our analytical reflexes, and just sit back and enjoy..."

I'm glad you didn't analyse Twain's or my words too much, Violeta, and simply enjoyed them. That makes me very happy indeed:-)

Katia wrote: "...He also apparently was quite critical of Elliot's writing. But i guess no one would beat Nabokov in respect of being tongue-sharp towards the work of someone else not to his liking..."

Which never stops me reading Nabokov! Same with Twain, I think. Although I'm a huge fan of Eliot's, I'll let it go;-)

Alison wrote: "...At the same time, from the distance of another 180 years or so, I read both of Twain's passages with a certain nostalgia - the skills that seem so practical and un-aesthetic to him seem artisanal, lost, even artistic to me now. Imagine reading a river that way. It must be so different today, computerized, automatized, AI-ified. Not that I know -- I'm just indulging in my own imagination of the transformations that have continued even after the end of the "modern" world of the 1880s that seems so artful (in the sense of artifice) and art-less (in the sense of lacking the Romantic aesthetic sensibility) to him..."

Thanks for a truly great comment, Alison. I didn't fully realise it, but I felt something of that same nostalgia you experienced while reading the second sunset scenario. It reminded me of my father's way of assessing the weather and the tides, and even the surface of the water, the currents, etc., before he'd take our small boat (the one in my avatar) out into the bay. No one takes such a small boat out so far today without having some sort of tech equipment on board. But when I was a child, all he had was a pair of oars—plus his knowledge of the river estuary and the open sea beyond. Thanks for helping me articulate that thought.

Thank you, Fionnuala, for a wonderful journey into this book, alongside the Mississippi and getting to know Mark Twain's life story. I just love your explanation of what his name means. I never heard this before!

Synchronicity may be the reason why I just commented a few minutes ago on Ilse’s fascinating review of ‘Magritte Unveiled. A Biography in 50 Pictures’, mentioning that as time passes I learned to observe instead of attempting to understand. Indeed, one shouldn’t over-analyze and honour the pureness of one’s initial reactions. These reactions are certainly no coincidence…

Your reviews about rivers the past time made me think of ‘my’ river. I live in the east of the Netherlands, on the east side of the truly beautiful river the IJssel. Each time I return form a day at the west of the country I can feel the change of atmosphere the moment I pass the river. There’s more space to breath…

I don’t know if someone mentioned this before, but the fact this novel consists of two books, covering two different periods in Mark Twin’s life, made me think of the two banks of a river. The flow of the river between these two banks, Twin’s life in between these periods, became a present absentee… This made me curious: What happened to him in between these two periods? Did he write about that part of his life too?

Anyhow, now I enjoy even more what you wrote to me as a comment on your review of 'Pudd'n Head Wilson': 'I wonder if I've anything left to say about Twain and rivers'. I thought you were kidding and you were! 😊

path wrote: "Others with ties to the American Midwest can probably also attest that the Mississippi is famously one of the more contorted and "engineered" rivers. The imprint of human intervention is all over its banks. When the flooding comes you can really hear some of the local frustrations about the river come out. So, I think it's insightful that you would pick out of Twain's writing some nostalgia for how the river was before people started trying to make it do what they wanted it to do..."

I must share a passage of Twain's with you, path. It's kind of apropos of what you say—and is entertaining into the bargain:
"One who knows the Mississippi will promptly aver—not aloud, but to himself—that ten thousand River Commissions, with the mines of the world at their back, cannot tame that lawless stream, cannot curb it or confine it, cannot say to it, Go here, or Go there, and make it obey; cannot save a shore which it has sentenced; cannot bar its path with an obstruction which it will not tear down, dance over, and laugh at. But a discreet man will not put these things into spoken words; for the West Point engineers have not their superiors anywhere; they know all that can be known of their abstruse science; and so, since they conceive that they can fetter and handcuff that river and boss him, it is but wisdom for the unscientific man to keep still, lie low, and wait till they do it....
…I consulted Uncle Mumford [a mate on a steamboat] concerning this and cognate matters; and I give here the result, stenographically reported, and therefore to be relied on as being full and correct; except that I have here and there left out remarks which were addressed to the men, such as ‘where in blazes are you going with that barrel now?’ and which seemed to me to break the flow of the written statement, without compensating by adding to its information or its clearness. Not that I have ventured to strike out all such interjections; I have removed only those which were obviously irrelevant; wherever one occurred which I felt any question about, I have judged it safest to let it remain.
Uncle Mumford said— ‘As long as I have been mate of a steamboat—thirty years—I have watched this river and studied it. Maybe I could have learnt more about it at West Point, but if I believe it I wish I may be WHAT are you sucking your fingers there for ?—Collar that kag of nails! Four years at West Point, and plenty of books and schooling, will learn a man a good deal, I reckon, but it won’t learn him the river. You turn one of those little European rivers over to this Commission, with its hard bottom and clear water, and it would just be a holiday job for them to wall it, and pile it, and dike it, and tame it down, and boss it around, and make it go wherever they wanted it to, and stay where they put it, and do just as they said, every time. But this ain’t that kind of a river. They have started in here with big confidence, and the best intentions in the world; but they are going to get left. What does Ecclesiastes vii. 13 say? Says enough to knock their little game galley-west, don’t it? Now you look at their methods once. There at Devil’s Island, in the Upper River, they wanted the water to go one way, the water wanted to go another. So they put up a stone wall. But what does the river care for a stone wall? When it got ready, it just bulged through it. Maybe they can build another that will stay; that is, up there—but not down here they can’t. Down here in the Lower River, they drive some pegs to turn the water away from the shore and stop it from slicing off the bank; very well, don’t it go straight over and cut somebody else’s bank? Certainly. Are they going to peg all the banks? Why, they could buy ground and build a new Mississippi cheaper...'"

Julie wrote: "I still hear music every time I read one of your reviews, Fionnuala, and this one brings Joni Mitchell's mournful "I wish I had a river/I could skate away on ... "

…In my mind, I've often thought of Twain as an "American Dickens", and no doubt others have as well: his facility with the people's dialects, his incomparable ability to draw real, lasting characters, (and caricatures), his morality, his life lessons.
But there is more bite to Twain, which is what I have loved in his works…"

I love when you pop in and throw me a song, Julie!
Yes to the Dickens parallel, and yes to Twain having more bite as you say. Perhaps less tolerance for humanity? —though he was so great at people watching.
You probably remember that he mentions Dickens in this book—but only in relation to his travel writing about the Mississippi. He mentions Mrs Trollope too who seems to have kept a diary of her trip down the river on a steamboat. But I wasn't sure of his opinion of either of them.
There was no mistaking his opinion of their compatriot, Sir Walter Scott. I can't resist posting this:
"Sir Walter Scott is probably responsible for the Capitol building [in New Orleans]; for it is not conceivable that this little sham castle would ever have been built if he had not run the people mad, a couple of generations ago, with his mediæval romances. The South has not yet recovered from the debilitating influence of his books. Admiration of his fantastic heroes and their grotesque ‘chivalry’ doings and romantic juvenilities still survives here, in an atmosphere in which is already perceptible the wholesome and practical nineteenth-century smell of cotton-factories and locomotives; and traces of its inflated language and other windy humbuggeries survive along with it...
…[he] sets the world in love with dreams and phantoms; with decayed and swinish forms of religion; with decayed and degraded systems of government; with the sillinesses and emptinesses, sham grandeurs, sham gauds, and sham chivalries of a brainless and worthless long-vanished society. He did measureless harm; more real and lasting harm, perhaps, than any other individual that ever wrote. Most of the world has now outlived good part of these harms, though by no means all of them; but in our South they flourish pretty forcefully still. Not so forcefully as half a generation ago, perhaps, but still forcefully. There, the genuine and wholesome civilization of the nineteenth century is curiously confused and commingled with the Walter Scott Middle-Age sham civilization; and so you have practical, common-sense, progressive ideas, and progressive works; mixed up with the duel, the inflated speech, and the jejune romanticism of an absurd past that is dead, and out of charity ought to be buried. But for the Sir Walter disease, the character of the Southerner—or Southron, according to Sir Walter’s starchier way of phrasing it—would be wholly modern, in place of modern and mediæval mixed, and the South would be fully a generation further advanced than it is. It was Sir Walter that made every gentleman in the South a Major or a Colonel, or a General or a Judge, before the war; and it was he, also, that made these gentlemen value these bogus decorations. For it was he that created rank and caste down there, and also reverence for rank and caste, and pride and pleasure in them. Enough is laid on slavery, without fathering upon it these creations and contributions of Sir Walter."

First of all, this is magistral, can't believe all you've poured into this. But also, for all his renown, I'm realizing not only have I not read anything by Mark Twain, I've never much read about him either, and your review made for the most beautiful pause for it today. I tend to appreciate water settings in my reads; if I ever look in Twain's direction, I'm sure to keep this one in mind, Fionnuala.

Thank you for sharing that beautiful memory of the boat, the bay, and the beloved pilot, Fionnuala.

Great review, Fi!

the more we learn about art, the less we may be able to appreciate it.

I have come across this belief a lot but it's never rung true for me. Quite the opposite, in fact. I've always had a greater appreciation, and taken more enjoyment from art, the more I knew of its inner workings. Even Twain's new insights, given his increased knowledge of the river, that you've added are impressive and fascinating rather than boringly practical to me.
I get where people are coming from though. I imagine it might be the case when someone has a idealised image of what their dream job would be and then when they actually get the job they find it to be full of mundanities and arduous trivialities.
Again, lovely review.
Take care

Fionnuala wrote: "Daniel wrote: "...Yet by the civil war approximately 110000 soldiers fought for the Union while 30000 fought for the confederacy. Could this trend be linked to the population growth and commercial growth that Twain discussed in the early part of his book? ..."

I don't know the answer to that, Daniel. Twain skimmed over the war completely. ."

I'll bet not many people know this part of the answer: Twain himself was one of the 30,000 Confederate soldiers although to say that he fought for the Confederacy would be incorrect, as he and his unit never fought at all, but spent all their time avoiding getting into battles. Twain's astonishing account of this time of his life, "The Private History of a Campaign that Failed" was published in the 1995 collection Old Glory and the Stars & Bars: Stories of the Civil War edited by George William Koon. (The first three stories are by William Faulkner, Ernest Gaines, and Mark Twain.)

His account begins: You have heard from a great many people who did something in the war; [is it] not fair and right that you listen a little moment to one who started out to do something in it, but didn't? His account begins when he was piloting on the Mississippi when the news came that South Carolina had gone out of the Union on the 20th of December, 1860.

In that summer--of 1861--the first wash of the wave of war broke upon the shores of Missouri. Our State was invaded by the Union forces. . . The Governor, Club Jackson, issued his proclamation calling out fifty thousand militia to repel the invader.
I was visiting in the small town where my boyhood had been spent--Hannibal, Marion County. Several of us got together in a secret place by night and formed ourselves into a military company. One Tom Lyman, a young fellow with a good deal of spirit but no military experience, was made captain; I was made second lieutenant. We had no first lieutenant, I do not know why; it was long ago.

Although previous publications are credited for many of the stories in this collection, this one is not listed as having been previously published. So perhaps it was unearthed among Twain's unpublished papers? I don't know. It's fascinating, though. He stated that prior to the invasion he was on the side of the Union. He must have set out not to defend the Confederacy, but, like many Southerners, to defend their hometowns against invasion.

Jennifer wrote: "This is what it's like to converse with my mother, lol! I can't wait to read it to her, we're going to have a good laugh..."

I thought for a minute that you meant talking to me was like conversing with your mother, Jennifer, but then I realised you were referring to Mr Brown! Do we all get like Mr Brown when we grow older, I wonder? I think I know a few Mr Browns but I also think they were always like that even when they were younger!

Noam wrote: "Thank you, Fionnuala, for a wonderful journey into this book, alongside the Mississippi and getting to know Mark Twain's life story. I just love your explanation of what his name means..."

Thanks for a rich comment, Noam, full of things to ponder. As to the name, looking through the book again I came on a passage I'd forgotten about: it concerned a retired steamboat captain called Sellers who used to write notes for a newspaper about changes in the river, and he'd sign his notes 'Mark Twain'. The notes were sometimes a little on the ridiculous side, referencing landmarks that had long disappeared and place names no longer in use. But when our Mark Twain began his journalism career, he wrote a piece sending up Sellers' pieces. He says he didn't want to publish it but it got published anyway—and Sellers never wrote another word. Our Mark Twain admits he felt bad about that, and it was partly why he adopted the name.

I love your story about the IJssel river and I completely relate to how you feel about it. I don't live beside a river now but I used to and I enjoyed it very much.

As to what Mark Twain did between one part of this book and the other, he didn't really say—apart from that brief reference to his cub reporter days. But Caterina has shed some light on the war years at least in comment 40.

Fionnuala wrote: "Thanks for a rich comment, Noam, full of things to ponder. As to the name, looking through the book again I came..."

What's in a name? Well, in this case apparently a lot.

Thanks to Caterina's comment I now understand Twain's life, in between the 2 banks you reviewed, was quite a meandering river. It's interesting to read about this American history in time like ours...

Charles wrote: "First of all, this is magistral, can't believe all you've poured into this. But also, for all his renown, I'm realizing not only have I not read anything by Mark Twain, I've never much read about him either...."

If you enjoy river settings in your reading, this book is perfect, Charles. And I'm like you in that apart from Tom Sawyer and Huck Finn, which I read as a child, I knew nothing about Twain until recently. Discovering more of his writing was triggered by a re-read of Huck Finn alongside Percival Everett's James before Christmas— I'm on a roll!
And now I've got the Creedence Clearwater's Rollin on the River playing in my head!

Alison wrote: "Thank you for sharing that beautiful memory of the boat, the bay, and the beloved pilot, Fionnuala."

And thanks for your beautifully sensitive reaction to it, Alison.

Jonathan wrote: …"the more we learn about art, the less we may be able to appreciate it."
I have come across this belief a lot but it's never rung true for me. Quite the opposite, in fact. I've always had a greater appreciation, and taken more enjoyment from art, the more I knew of its inner workings. Even Twain's new insights, given his increased knowledge of the river, that you've added are impressive and fascinating rather than boringly practical to me...."

Since you are a musician, Jonathan, that doesn't surprise me at all. My appreciation of classical music has definitely improved the more I've learned about it. I could say the same for art, but at the same time while studying art history, I did feel the lecturers somewhat technical explanations changed how I'd thought of a particular artist's work until then. But other artists' work was enhanced by technical details, eg, Picasso, who had been a bit like classical music for me—hard to appreciate without some background knowledge. And with literature studies, I remember that reading the critical theory assigned sometimes put me off a work.
And I too loved that section in Twain where he explained the sunset scene on the river—though he claimed he'd lost all the rapture of his earlier experience. It was fascinating to me that little aspects of the river could mean so much—plus it reminded me of my own childhood spent messing about in boats:-)

Caterina wrote: "...I'll bet not many people know this part of the answer: Twain himself was one of the 30,000 Confederate soldiers although to say that he fought for the Confederacy would be incorrect, as he and his unit never fought at all, but spent all their time avoiding getting into battles. Twain's astonishing account of this time of his life, "The Private History of a Campaign that Failed" was published in the 1995 collection Old Glory and the Stars & Bars: Stories of the Civil War edited by George William Koon. (The first three stories are by William Faulkner, Ernest Gaines, and Mark Twain.)
His account begins: You have heard from a great many people who did something in the war; [is it] not fair and right that you listen a little moment to one who started out to do something in it, but didn't?..."

This is super interesting, Caterina. Thank you so much for researching the subject. Not only have you filled us in on what his politics were, and what he was and wasn't doing during the war years, but you've also given me a glimpse of an episode in his life that may have fed into 'The Adventures of Tom Sawyer', written in the late 1870s.
This bit: "I was visiting in the small town where my boyhood had been spent--Hannibal, Marion County. Several of us got together in a secret place by night and formed ourselves into a military company. One Tom Lyman, a young fellow with a good deal of spirit but no military experience, was made captain; I was made second lieutenant. We had no first lieutenant, I do not know why; it was long ago."
Doesn't that sound like a band of boys planning an adventure, and the very spirited Tom Lyman sounds quite like Tom Sawer. Plus Huck Finn would have been Tom's second lieutenant for sure, never meriting the position of first!
But of course Twain was thirty or so at the time war broke out so maybe I'm stretching the comparison beyond the possible...

What a lovely review! Thank you for the quotes, both in the body of the review and in the comments. I have never read Twain's non-fiction.

I enjoyed the comments about appreciating art. When viewing a visual art exhibit, I tend to go through one multiple times. The first taking my time and viewing each piece. The second reading the artist's names (if it is not all of one artist) and the date of the work. I like to see the chronology of an artist's work. The third to go back to the ones that draw me and to read those plaques. Sometimes they add to my understanding of a piece. And a fourth to bask in front of the few that especially call to me.

I also enjoyed hearing about your father and the river. My husband grew up on the Chesapeake Bay and learned to read the Bay and its tributaries. He was an avid kayaker and sailor. He preferred to navigate with a sextant (a lost art nowadays) than via technology, though he did have those gadgets on board.

As always I appreciate the variety of thoughts that come through on your comment thread as well as your writing.

Fionnuala wrote: "....Doesn't that sound like a band of boys planning an adventure, and the very spirited Tom Lyman sounds quite like Tom Sawer. Plus Huck Finn would have been Tom's second lieutenant for sure, never meriting the position of first!"...

Aha! Yes it does. (I didn't realize Twain was already so old, but it still sounds like a secret boys' club.)
Wait till you read the story, if you get a chance. It was crazy -- some of them didn't even own weapons. They had farm implements.

Noam wrote: "What's in a name? Well, in this case apparently a lot.
Thanks to Caterina's comment I now understand Twain's life, in between the 2 banks you reviewed, was quite a meandering river. It's interesting to read about this American history in time like ours..."

Isn't it, Noam? Twain has given me greater understanding of America, its history and geography, plus its industrial leap forward—and that's helping to counterbalance some of the things I read in the news. Thank you, Mark Twain.