The Woman Who Married A Bear

This 1992 detective novel won the Private Eye Writers of America's Shamus Award for Best First PI Novel (1993). It's the first of eight books in the Cecil Younger series, and it features an alcoholic, anhedonic private investigator who seems to be struggling to function at any level (or maintain the focus to survive at all) as he tries to fulfill his latest client's request to look into her son's death. The Alaskan setting is the real star of this book, along with the half-nightmare, half-dreamlike journey Cecil undertakes to glean the truth is the catalyst for the violence and death that appear in his wake. The social commentary is bleak and unsparing yet truthful. I don't think any character in this book is really likable or reliable, show more but all ring true as human beings. I'll definitely read more of John Straley's writing even if it is not a comforting experience. show less

An unreformed alcoholic gumshoe mess of a man rummages thru one beautiful, wet, cold state. The author loves Alaska and he rubs your thoughts in its natural beauty and its thrown-together (except for Juneau) cities and towns. He values the Tlingit peoples, much more than he does the latest hip whites. He tells a Tlingit story—the woman who married a bear. Our detective spends more time with these people than with the rest of the community. He is a failure in much in life (as any good detective should be) but is curious and dogged. He also has trouble staying away from the bottle. Bottles seem to be everywhere in this book. The plot is not as important as the location and the characters. But that’s fine with me. One more thing: the show more author studied poetry and writing and it shows. show less

The prose is lovely. The setting is immersive, and the lead character is troubled and persistent. Characters are all well and sympathetically drawn and I loved the intertwine of myth and present reality. Straley evokes Alaska with love and a headshake for all its peccadilloes. Recommended.

This tale of a hard drinking P.I. in Alaska is very much in the noir tradition. Oftentimes the plot of the book becomes entirely secondary to the atmosphere, which is made up both of flawed characters and a very distinctive sense of place. In this book the place in question is Alaska ,and the contrast between natural beauty and stark poverty is used to good effect . Some Tlingit characters and folklore give this a flavor of its own, even though the “mystery” or at least it’s resolution was only so-so, will definitely try more of the series.

While it was an interesting book, I don't know if I can read much more of the series unless Cecil starts to deal with his issues of being the son of a respected Judge.
PI Cecil Younger has serious issues with accepting life and hides in drink as much as possible. Yet he's also enamoured by eastern mysticism of living in the moment. The book is written that way: our focus is always caught by what's happening outside, birds, people walking by, reminders of an ex-lover. The mystery is solved almost by accident, since the detective never seems to know what he is doing.
Straley's writing is full of imagery, comparisons that I wouldn't have thought of. "Sometimes I think rain is like grief that I have to endure." (p.114). "Suicide, murder. It show more can be impulsive...the surprise ending in the story you tell about your life...The narrative of your life doesn't take you there bu the content of the story does" (p 119-120).
I like the way some chapters will open with musing on a topic and close with that same topic. It rounds out the chapter, makes it seem complete and unique in itself. e.g. Chapter 9 begins with "There are some questions so graceful that they should only be asked...", goes on to consider one question about Alaska, get entwined in action and finding some answers, and ends with "There are questions that should not be answered but I never know which questions those are." In most novels I don't pay any attention to how chapters are divided and, except for indicating a break in action, I'm not sure most authors do either.
I read a version of the tale with the same name retold by Elizabeth James, (merging of several Native West Coast tales) before reading this mystery and was completely confused about how they fit together. Finally a friend tells Cecil the story, and that version (in which the women has her half-bear children eat the father) makes sense. The version I read emphasized the arrogance of the woman before she married, how she learned love and respect for her bear husband, and how that attitude was passed on to the Tlingit people. show less

Poetic, atmospheric, and often frustrating first book in a series featuring a self-absorbed alcoholic private investigator. The Alaskan setting is a plus, as is the fine writing. The lead character is massively annoying, though.

This book is the first in a series of books about Cecil Younger, private investigator. Cecil’s life is not the glamorous PI life we often read about. First, Cecil lives in Sitka, Alaska, not the lower 48. Secondly, he loves poetry, broods about the woman who loved him and left him, and he is an unreformed alcoholic. The son of a judge and the brother of a successful lawyer, Cecil is considered the family failure. He, also, will not let go of the search for the “truth” (in all its various guises) of a case once he has started. An elderly resident of a nursing home asks Cecil to find the “truth” about the murder of her son, for which an inmate is serving time following his confession and trial. The seeker soon becomes the hunted show more after Cecil’s housemate is shot and it becomes obvious that Cecil was the target.

The tale was engrossing. The settings seemed authentically Alaskan. And Cecil is someone you want to shake to get a grip on his life. I’ve already ordered the next two in the series. show less