The Living Great Lakes: Searching for the Heart of the Inland Seas

Having grown up with three siblings and parents befittingly harried by this slightly larger brood, I grew accustomed in my early life to late arrivals. Whether it was hockey practice, birthday parties, church, or school, scrambling into place at least fifteen minutes late was the norm. However, I use the word accustom because my feelings on this typical tardiness, even from my earliest recollections, were always in the realm of resignation and disappointment. As the years went on, my irritation with late arrivals grew. It was one thing to show up late for math class, it was altogether different to turn up well past the proper time for an all important hockey game or worse yet, a date. 

Long now the controller of my own destiny though, I have made it a point to try to always arrive early at my destinations. Occasionally this practice makes for awkward moments but generally I have found it to be a good practice and at the very least, personally calming. Thus when I was discussing a great local read with a library patron recently and they asked if I had read local author Jerry Dennis' phenomenal 2003 book "The Living Great Lakes," I was quickly transported back to the days of showing up more than a little past "fashionably late." 

Having been named "The Best Book of 2003" by the Outdoor Writers Association, there is no question of the quality of "The Living Great Lakes." It truly is a fantastic book. I could leave my review at that or point toward many other more timely reviews as testament to this fact but instead, I will do my duty and let you in on why I feel the same way so many others obviously do.

I loved "The Living Great Lakes" for its storytelling. Yes, I learned tremendous amounts about the formation, history, science, nature, and environmental issues surrounding the waters and land I grew up around. Yes, I marveled in the vistas Dennis was able to paint before readers. And yes, I reveled in all of the voices, be it a biologist, boat captain, or fisherman that Dennis wove into his work. But most of all, I loved the fact that "The Living Great Lakes" was able to do all of this while still telling a fabulous story. 

Dennis accomplishes this feat by framing his information around the narrative arc of a six week sail on a tall schooner through the Great Lakes, the Erie canal, and up the coast to Maine. In doing so, he brings the lakes to life through salty, eccentric, and heartwarming characters. This structure is bolstered by Dennis' use of  anecdotes he calls upon from his own life lived in close proximity to and on the lakes. All told, It is this ability to tell a story while also inform and inspire that really made this book stand out personally and it is this same ability that will lead me to encourage others like me to keep showing up late for "The Living Great Lakes."

Far Arden & Crater XV

Whewww...

That is the sound of over a month's pent up air rushing out of my lungs after an utterly hectic June. It is also the sound of disappointment. No, not the kind of disappointment that follows unmet expectations but instead, that acute sense of loss felt both right in the middle of the chest as well as deep within the cranium after a fantastic experience comes to a close.

In this case, the experience that left me devastated was a book series and more specifically, Kevin Cannon's set of two graphic novels, Far Arden and Crater XV. These tales, told in words and pictures had me absolutely cackling and grinning as I followed the irascible main character Army Shanks, a former member of the Royal Canadian Artic Navy but now rogue Artic pirate, on a series of crazy and campy adventures.

The first installment, Far Arden, finds Shanks on a search for a mythical utopian island afloat in the Canadian Artic. Sounds simple enough (and just crazy enough to make for a great tale on its own). But of course author Cannon can't leave it at that. Instead, readers are treated to man-eating polar bears, crazed circus performers, angry ex-lovers, orphans, numerous heinous villains, and of course, the whole of the Royal Canadian Artic Navy.  And that is all before Shanks even gets to the island.

If that wasn't delightfully zany enough, Crater XV throws Shanks a-sea with many of the same antagonists and protagonists but this time, Cannon stirs in bloodthirsty walruses, rogue astronauts, abandoned moon bases, Siberian pirates, and a handful of power hungry politicians. This madness arises out of a farcical moon race in an effort to claim rights on a newly discovered energy source drawn from that cratered siren in the sky. Whewww again!

Both of Cannon's many stranded tales are as over-the-top as they sound. Yet these yarns are heavy-handed in such a purposeful and ridiculous manner that one can only smile, then cackle, and then join Shanks for the shenanigans. It certainly helps that Army and the rest of his cohorts are likeable characters that manage to both defy their stereotypical roles while fulfilling them in just the proper allotments. Furthering my love of Cannon's tales are his loose, fast, and appropriately exaggerated drawings that are so chock-a-block full of energy that it can't help but rub off on readers.

And rub off it did as all told, Far Arden and Crater XV were both the perfect antidote to a very, very busy June as well as pure graphic novel gold.

Lord and Lady Bunny - Almost Royalty

With the Trilliums finally in bloom, the grass at last green, birds of bold color wholeheartedly returning to the trees and my spirits at long last a-sail with them, I made the decision to turn toward a tome of lesser weight. Perhaps something whimiscal with a spot of humor and even a dash of illustrations thrown in, I thought. And that is when it struck me, I needed a dose of Polly Horvath and her ridiculous, riotus, and bewhiskered protagonists Mr. and Mrs. Bunny.

Having spent over 250 pages in deep belly laughter throughout author Horvath's first children's novel featuring Mr. and Mrs. Bunny titled "Mr. and Mrs. Bunny - Detectives Extraordinaire" when the sequel, "Lord and Lady Bunny - Almost Royalty" arrived in the library, I could hardly wait to pick it up. Apparently I wasn't the only one though, as the book failed to last more than a few hours on the shelf each time it returned. But just last week, nearly six months after we purchased it my turn finally arrived. Boy was it worth the wait.

Like "Detectives Extraordinaire," "Almost Royalty" not only features the absurd Mr. and Mrs. Bunny, but the ten year old wiser than her years Madeline, her, not so wise for their years, hippy-dippy parents as well as most of the other characters readers came to love. This time around though, the bulk of the story takes place both on a cruise ship and in England rather than British Columbia. The pretense for this setting? Why Mr. and Mrs. Bunny are in need of new jobs of course.

Having tired of being detectives, Mrs. Bunny has now decided that what she would like most to be is... Queen of England. Madeline and her parents on the other hand, just so happen to inherit a sweet shop over the water that they believe to be terribly profitable and set off to make their fortune. And thus their coincidental meeting and parallel trajectory, told in alternating human and rabbit chapters, is set.

Yet like its predecessor, plot is a word to be used very loosely as both novels use action simply to move readers from one absurdly hilarious situation to the next. Indeed, what matters in both "Mr. and Mrs. Bunny" adventures is satire, wry and oh-so clever humor, boisterously bouncy dialogue, as well as poignant and heartwarming moments (which are usually quickly followed by yet more gaiety). Top it all of with occasional droll and delightful illustrations by Sophie Blackall and, I dare say, one could surely call "Lord and Lady Bunny - Almost Royalty" a truly hoppin tale.

The Search for a Sense of Wildness

With the scents and sounds if not the temperatures of spring finally arriving in Leelanau County, I have begun to feel a certain itch. No, it is not the effects of allergies, at least not in the traditional medical sense. Instead, despite plenty of skiing and hockey, it is a whole body reaction to long winter months spent all too frequently indoors. 

First my feet began to feel restless as the desire to walk amongst trees, ferns, and foliage returned to my legs. Then my hands started to tremble as the longing to stick my fingers in the dirt crept back into my arms and hands. And finally, my brain commenced to scamper away to any and every wild place I could imagine as the hankering for adventure finally broke free of months of hibernation. Alas, as these feelings overtook my body not but a few weeks ago, the white of snow still covered nearly every crack and crevice in sight. Thus, as so frequently happens, I turned toward the shelves of the library to unearth just the right book to allay my current cravings. 

Like my current predicament, in 1997, Michael Ausema felt a certain tickle. Unlike many of his peers, he could not content himself with a good job in a place he knew and loved. Therefore, when the opportunity arose to spend a summer on Isle Royale as a volunteer park ranger, he leapt at the chance. That summer spent on Michigan's jewel, became a catalyst sending him on a lifelong journey in search of true wildness.  To accomplish this, Michael went on to become a paid park ranger working not just on Isle Royale, but also in the Everglades, and Glacier Bay National Parks. His book, "A Search for a Sense of Wildness" chronicles his many adventures in these remote places, the relationships he develops while doing so, and his attempt to commune with God through his interactions with these spectacular and wild locales.

At its heart, "A Search for a Sense of Wildness" reads like the incredibly optimistic journal of a true adventurer. It is chock full of amazing wildlife encounters, breathtakingly portrayed natural beauty, humorous and heartwarming people, awe inspiring exploits, and most importantly, open wonder. Ausema is truly a believer in the divine beauty of our world and it is impossible to put this book down without understanding why. And yet as the book draws on, Ausema's astonishment, does occasionally feel overly glass half full as almost every experience seems to instill complete and "utter awe" and to be seemingly mind blowing. This occasionally over the top admiration of the natural world though, can hardly be called a fault and may instead be more of a symptom of the narrative style that aims toward a retelling of amazing experiences rather than a tale with a binding narrative arc.

Despite this lack of rising action, climax, conclusion and so forth, Ausema's tale superbly achieves its goals of both scratching an itch for adventure while creating within readers the desire for beauty, the divine, and most importantly, their intersection in true wildness.

Something That Feels Like Truth

As the whirlwind of my first year on the job blew by along with last winter's winds, I was caught by surprise by a February press release from the State Department of Education and the Library of Michigan containing a list of "Michigan Notable Books." Not realizing that such a program even existed, I was thrilled to peruse the list of 20 excellent and diverse books celebrating Michigan people, places, and events. 

Even more exciting than making my way through these distinguished works though, was the chance for the library, through state sponsorship, to host the one of the authors. Last year, the library was lucky enough to present Laurie Kay Sommers, the author of "Fishtown" an account of Leland's historic fishery.

Now, one year later, instead of surprise, February brought anticipation. Yet, knowing full well that lighting rarely strikes the same spot twice, I had no expectation that we would again be chosen to host an author. Thus, I was absolutely floored when our lovely Suttons Bay Bingham Library was chosen again.

In just two short months, on May 14th, Don Lystra, the author of "Something That Feels Like Truth" will visit our Library to chat about his recent award winning collection of short stories and I could not be more delighted.

Indeed, Lystra and his work are the perfect fit for our northern peninsula as his assemblage of stories, like Leelanau itself, displays life in both its sheer beauty and utter hardship.

Take the tale "Reckless" in which a young boy and his father, who has made his way up through the ranks at GM, travel north from Detroit to hunt with a former factory floor coworker. Yet memories and the hardscrabble life of the former coworker force our protagonist to reflect on the course his life, and by proxy, any life can take. Another tale, "Marseille," follows a Saginaw factory worker that has lost his job leading him to become both discombobulated and desirous of a dramatic change but ultimately leaves him clinging to that which matters most.

Like "Marseille" and "Reckless" all of Lystra's tales seek, in his own words, "fundamental truth" and they do so by studying characters and settings in all of their fine detail before painting them before us with deft sympathy. This ability to truthfully yet gracefully touch upon the soul of what it means to be human makes both "Something That Feels Like Truth" an unforgettable work and Lystra's upcoming visit not to be missed.

Betty and the Yeti

For two years in a row now, the weekend celebrating our first President's birthday has marked a different sort of celebration here in Suttons Bay; Yetifest. Superficially celebrating that huge, white haired, mythical beast said to live in Nepal, Tibet, and now Suttons Bay, Yetifest in truth has provided a great opportunity for the community to get together outside and shake off the malaise of winter while having a whole bunch of fun.

As a part of the community, the library has contributed to the merriment with of course, Yeti stories in addition to Yeti crafts and face painting. That all seems straightforward enough until the time comes to locate those Yeti stories. Shockingly (or not) very few picture books have been written about Yetis. Last year, for Yetifest's inaugral jaunt, I managed to find two fantastic tales in Nick Seluk's "The Awkward Yeti" as well as Kenneth Oppel's "Peg and the Yeti." At the time though, these wonderful stories made up the entirety of the genre. Fortunately, between 2013's fest and last Saturday's, Ella Burfoot added the enjoyable "Betty and the Yeti" to the canon.

Written in short rhyming text that easily rolls off the tongue "Betty and the Yeti" relates the utterly adorable story of Betty and her little red sled. One day, while traipsing about, Betty discovers piece by piece the makings of a big, hairy, white, and filthy snowsuit. Being the curious child she is, Betty sets out to find the owner of these lost necessaries. 

After asking Bear, Whale, and Artic Hare, Betty is directed to a rock behind which she finds a small, shy, and quite naked creature that turns out to be a Yeti. Contrary to the lore of both our own reality as well as Betty's, the Yeti is not a huge, ferocious, loner but is instead a timid critter that not only needs massive amounts of layers to stay warm, but a few friends as well. To the surprise of no one over the age of 4, Betty and eventually Bear, Whale, and Artic Hare all befriend the Yeti thus nicely emphasizing the importance of not judging based upon appearances.

Interestingly enough, in contrast to this message, it is the appearance of Burfoot's book that is the most arresting aspect of the tale. Consistently utilizing black backgrounds with bright, colorful, rounded drawings, Burfoot's illustrations (not to mention the Yeti subject matter) are what truly set "Betty and the Yeti" apart. The deep contrasts of black and color paired with the rounded characters magnificently evoke the dark reality of winter, the lore of the Yeti, as well as the fictional and fun qualities of both the tale and subject matter. It is an eye catching style and when paired with an enjoyable tale it is, as Saturday's Yetifest proved, sure to appease young readers and listeners.

Red Jacket

With forecasts calling for temperatures well below zero, I was more than a trifle excited to be absconding to a far warmer clime in Central America for a mid winter vacation. Just as thrilling though, was the opportunity to spend some time buried in a handful of good reads. After working my way through a dense historical tome, I turned to lighter and more colorful fare; Joseph Heywood's "Red Jacket." Having never read any of Heywood's popular Grady Service Woods Cop mystery series, this seemed like a great opportunity to get a feel for the author as well as get in on a new series from the get go. And I am mighty glad I did.

Like the Woods Cop series, "Red Jacket" is set deep within Michigan's Upper Peninsula. Yet in addition to taking us all the way up to the Keweenaw, "Red Jacket" also takes us back to this Peninsula's mining heyday where we meet Lute Bapcat, "cowboy, Rough Rider, beaver trapper," and now the area's newest game warden.

With a violent, mining labor strike erupting, Bapcat is quickly put to work when decapitated deer carcasses left to rot start popping up, fish streams are poisoned, and odd deforestation occurs all apparently orchestrated by the mine owners in order to starve out the strikers.  True to the 1913 historical reality and despite fictional Bapcat's best efforts, the strike culminates in the Italian Hall disaster in which 73 people were crushed or suffocated when a yell of fire in a packed hall led to a panic.

Despite this less than rosy ending, a dose of justice leads to a satisfying conclusion yet it is not necessarily the twists and turns of this mystery that make it worth reading. Instead, it is the plethora of big, colorful characters, the gritty, outdoorsy action, the firm grounding in both the history and the culture of a unique time and place, and the short, sharp dialogue that make "Red Jacket" an enjoyable read. That being said, the tale is occasionally slowed by an overabundance of trivial characters while also being hampered by a somewhat formulaic approach but these weaknesses are more than overshadowed in what turned out to be the perfect vacation read.