The River Queen

Although I had heard of Mary Morris, I had never read any of her books. The River Queen is excellent, and her other books are now on my "to read" list. The author decides to travel down part of the Mississippi on a houseboat, and she takes us on the ride with her. It is interesting (and humourous) to learn about the Mississippi river, and all the small towns and characters she meets along the way. The book is also about her father, who passed away at the age of 102. Ms. Morris manages to intertwine, very successfully, the story of the river and of her father. The personality of the two men (and a dog) that she hires to take her down the river really adds to the appeal of the book. I wish there would have been photographs!

I never meant to purchase this book. I was browsing at a local bookstore, knew the author's work from "Nothing to Declare," and sat down with it in a big stuffed chair on a cloudy Saturday afternoon. I did not get up for another two hours! There are several themes running through this book. One is that of life's options narrowing, given that the author's own perch is that of, shall we say, post-middle age. Another theme is of life's opportunities having been fully seized on, even if not all of the efforts described by Morris actually panned out. A third theme is an empathetic one, as Morris contextualizes her own personal ups and downs within the tragically human setting of post-Hurriane Katrina. For me, it is the fourth theme that made this book such a fun and compelling read: parts of it are an absolute riot. Morris is superb at using dry humor and tongue-in-cheek narrative to tell her own stroy through the lens of her reactions to others. I have given the book as a summer reading gift to at least five friends. I highly recommend it.

This book is a wonderful blend of a fascinating travel and discovery narrative combined with a very personal, emotional story. The book's description of the Mississippi and the surrounding land has factual narrative and interest on a par with David McCullough in his books on the Panama Canal and the Brooklyn bridge, but unlike McCollough's work which describes the personal lives of other, historical characters, here the reader gets to participate as the author's own deeply personal conflicts are being worked out. This book reminds me of the author's earlier Nothing To Declare, an enduring favorite. I recommend both books highly.

I enjoyed this book immensely for a number of reasons. One of the reviews listed it as a "midlife memoir", which I think is quite accurate. But a couple of them described a somewhat grumpy tone. I didn't really see it that way. I thought that it was an honest account of what it feels like to decide upon undertaking a (somewhat) spontaneous adventure later in life. A lumpy bed and lousy food are certainly going to bother you more than they did when you were twenty. It doesn't mean that you didn't enjoy your adventure, and I think the author made that very clear. In fact, the end of the book was really uplifting. I also appreciated the recurring theme that nothing is quite what you remember it to be. Once again, I don't see this as complaining. It's a fact of life and the author does a wonderful job of incorporating this slightly nostalgic/sad, but very real feeling into her tale. "Nothing to Declare" was the adventure of a young woman with a lot of insight and courage. "The River Queen" is that same woman, all grown up. She's had a lifetime of relationships and experiences behind her that are going to affect her perspectives when she travels.

I grew up in the same town Mary Morris's father lived near many decades earlier. Her discovery of the mystic nature of the River (as the Mississippi is simply called), her quest to discover the roots she distanced herself from as an adult, and her dead-on description of the small towns all along that River, struck a chord deep within me. Mark Twain, of course, best gives voice to the mystical, magical nature of the Mississippi River, but Mary discovers in the 21st century that the very real spirit of the River still lives not only in her crew but also deep within her. Mary also explores her feelings about her recently deceased father; by the end of her journey, she has discovered as much about herself as about the places her father lived as a young man. And Mary's descriptions of the small River towns paint a perfect picture of communities turning their municipal backs on the River, the highway that made their very existence possible, and turning instead to the same suburban malls and suburban sprawl that one can find everywhere in America. I commend this book to anyone who thinks about their family roots, to anyone who wonders if Twain's River exists anymore (it does), and to anyone who wonders where we came from as a nation of unique small towns to an America of numbing sameness.