James Dickey (1923–1997)

“You sure got a pretty mouth, boy.”

James Dickey established himself in the cultural history of America in a way that he probably didn’t intend when he sold the movie rights to his novel [Deliverance]. The tale is about four urban friends who take a canoe trip in the Southern back-country. When one of the city-slickers is assaulted by a local, the men plumb the depths of their souls.

Unfortunately, most folks only remember the images from the movie – hillbillies playing banjoes and show more rednecks with tobacco stained lips.

Bottom Line: Read the book before dismissing it – it’s a much deeper examination of the dark heart in everyone.

4 bones!!!!! show less

Dickey's Zodiac is breathless--a rhythmic long poem that has the potential to hypnotize readers with its lyricism and sounds, and which strikes hard through each series of images. From moment to moment, it's not necessarily an easy read, but it is engulfing. For poetry lovers, this is something of a treasure to be read and re-read. It won't be for everyone, but there were so many moments here that struck me, and that sucked me into the world of the poem, that I can't help but look forward to show more re-reading it in whole, and recommending it to other poetry-lovers. show less

Wow. I've been talking about Deliverance to all my friends, who all roll their eyes at me, because I haven't seen the movie.

This was one of the best books I've read this year. The writing is documentary style, but surprisingly lyrical. It's told from a single point of view, and works so well for description, mood, suspense, I absolutely loved it.

Am I the only person in the world who hasn't seen the movie? I'm familiar with the two most talked-about scenes. The banjo scene was beautifully show more written, and the rape is brutal in its simplicity.

I think that was the best quality of Deliverance - the simplicity. Everything except the country is told in a stripped down, journalistic style, but the river country they travel through, is a fully-realized character on its own. The narrator rambles. He tells what they did in little bits. But he describes what he sees in long panoramas, framed by his designer vision, like a layout for one of his magazine spreads.

I was prepared to be disappointed, having read several books lately that seemed as though they had been written just to be an easy screenplay. This novel demands to be filmed, and you just hope that it gets done by somebody who can do it justice. I suppose I'll have to watch it, just to see if it happened. Wikipedia tells me: "In 2008, Deliverance was selected for preservation in the United States National Film Registry by the Library of Congress as being 'culturally, historically, or aesthetically significant.'" One can hope that means they succeeded. show less

Imagine, if you can, you're an American air force tail-gunner flying over enemy territory, Japan during WWII. Your plane is hit, on fire, and spirals toward the earth. All your crew-mates are dead. If not for the parachute you religiously taped to the bulkhead, you'd soon be a goner, too. Instead, you make it safely back to earth, where men belong anyway. What would you do now?
James Dickey gives us an account of one possibility through one of his strangest, and best creations, Muldrow, a man show more raised in the Alaskan wilderness of the 1920s and 30s, and appropriately named after an Alaskan glacier.
Early on in his predicament of being totally on his own in the land of the enemy, Muldrow makes his plan to head North. If he can make it to the White sea, to the beloved snow and ice of his childhood, he knows he can survive and feel the comfort and freedom of home again.
The story of his trek is one of dreams, camouflage, and savagery. For some, this tale may become a bit too gruesome to take. There were scenes I wouldn't want to revisit. But, if you have the stomach for it, Dickey's prose is as razor sharp as the bread knife Muldrow carries.

"'It's a bread knife,' I told him. 'The only difference is that I brought the point on down and fine. The edge is good, too. Kitchen steel is good steel. As good as you can get.'
'Look,' I said, bending the knife almost double. The light from the roof bulb curved, wires and all, into the light of the blade. 'That means it won't break off. It's not like one of these stiff issue blades, like a bayonet or a commando knife, that ain't got any give to it. This one will bend, it'll go around.'
'Go around what?'
'Go around anything, say, like a rib. It'll go around and come back. It'll straighten out on the other side and keep on going.'"

This passage leaves a little to the imagination, but the description of its actual use is not for the faint of heart. Ghastly is the word I'd use.
If you're a fan of [b:Deliverance|592657|Deliverance|James Dickey|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1624579180l/592657._SY75_.jpg|1257919], you'll probably get along fine with this book, though it is not nearly as tight and well written.
Dickey repeats himself often, and becomes long-winded, particularly when Mulder describes animals, birds, and landscapes. About three-quarters into the book, he says,
"I was discouraged, I don't mind telling you. If the other island (his destination) didn't show pretty soon, I would be too weak and played out to get to it."
That's the way I felt about half-way through. Come on, James, get me there already, I'm dragging here.
Dickey revisits themes he explored so beautifully in his poetry, especially the connection between men and animals, and the relationship of hunter and prey.
I go back to my question, "What would you do in this situation?"
I have ideas about what I MIGHT do, but I tend to believe there's no way for any of us to know unless we were there. I'm fairly certain though, that we'd all surprise ourselves of what we may have to become in order to survive. show less