Just finished reading the Cabelas' newest book. This one is written along the lines of their first book - "Two Hearts - One Passion" about hunting trips to Ethiopia and other places. This one is a sequel of sorts but centers solely on their trips to Tanzania to hunt with the late Cotton Gordon.

I really liked the first book and was a little hesitant to burst my bubble of expectation with this book but came away impressed and pleased to having read the book. Mary is the key writer of the book and she has a great knack for phrasing things that fit the moment. Here are several examples -

On her shooting -
A wounded animal is like a needle in your heart.

On a bit of good luck finding a buffalo -
Fate gave us a nudge and we ran with it.

On hunting buffalo -
He has taken a dose of your lead as if you had done nothing more than thrown a stick at him.

We had reached a stalemate – the kind that takes a wrench to your heart and twists it tight.

An advance of beasts (12 dugga boys in one group) like that demands your attention. They had ours – my own laced with a heavy icing of fear.

… his eyes going quickly from recognition to rage.

The lead bull lifted his head and glared down his nose as if he were aiming.

My stomach began to look for a way out.


On hunting the cats -
A heavy heat hammered the back of my neck.

When they were in a blind and a leopard stared at the blind for a long time, the African tracker said this –
“I not let him see truth,: Peter said. “He search for truth. I not give him.”

Leopards are sneakier than lions, slipping in like serial killers with soft growls that resonate like an ice pick touching the back of your neck. Lions approach a bait like gang members itching for a rumble.
When lions came to a bait, they stared at the blind with those penetrating eyes that had the ability to bore into my heart and measure my conviction. I hate it when a lion stares at me.

On the “feel” of hunting Africa –

Campfires are the deserts of the hunting day.

Hope had reclaimed its rightful spot at the forefront of my thoughts.


Many years later, thinking of that night, I remembered joy. I hoped the others who were with there with me remembered it the same way.

In Africa, you are never alone. You are surrounded by life where life began. You are home. Few places make you feel so close to heaven. It is nothing you see, nothing you smell, nothing you taste. You feel it in a deep place where the soul meets the body and reminds you of what it means to be alive.

Throughout history, people have projected human traits onto animals. That night I understood why. Some animals like lions, elephants, bears, elk-and buffalo- often surprise us with their loyalty, gentleness, strength, royalty- and courage. When we see these honorable traits in animals, hope remains that we may one day possess them ourselves.


I thanked God for creating me and allowing me to see how His touch had given us all we needed. He would never reveal all it mysteries. Some people would search them out. Some would ignore them and others, like those us around that campfire, would enjoy them. And if they remained forever mysterious – that was just fine with us.



You emotionally rise and fall with her as she describes hunting cats and dangerous game as well as trials and travails with shooting accurately. She is a skilled hunter but verbalizes the doubts all of us feel when we miss or wound.

Dick and Mary hunted with Cotton Gordon several times over about a ten year time period usually hunting the same places or similar. My feel for the book is that Tanzania was a place they could escape to when pressed by business and busyness of life. You will enjoy each hunt story.

Cotton Gordon died of a heart attack and truly had the Cabela's questioning if they would hunt Tanzania again. They do and they take their daughters to enjoy what meant so much to them.

It is a good "read" written by a very interesting couple. It does not smack of a professional hunt story writer but bleeds from the heart as they truly love Tanzania and hunting in Africa.

A big plus is a DVD that attach to the book that has pictures and interviews with Dick and Mary as well as a lot of pictures in the book. Get it - you will enjoy it.

I rate this an 8.5 on the dogcat scale and worth the price.

Dogcat:

I was taught to avoid phrases such as:

--- "a deep place where the soul meets the body"
--- "forefront of my thoughts"
--- "heavy heat hammered"
--- "like serial killers with soft growls that resonate like an ice pick"
--- "laced with a heavy icing of fear"
--- "a needle in your heart"

My teachers and editors would have screamed "purple prose!" or "dark and stormy night!" if I'd submitted something with any of those phrases. They stressed that good writing is not ornate, strained or elaborate. It is clear and straightforward, and it communicates with only as many words as needed.

I don't know the authors, and I'm hesitant to criticize them. I also haven't read their books, but what you've quoted reminds me of Elgin Gates and his frantic use of a thesaurus to impress the reader. A "needle in your heart" and "heavy heat hammered" could have come from a Mickey Spillane detective novel.

To each his own, I guess.

Bill Quimby

...or Pete Capstick's.....

quote:

Fate gave us a nudge and we ran with it.

Spillane might have written that, but I'd like to think that Peter wouldn't.

Bill Quimby

I well recall the "dark and stormy night" contest....cannot recall what I entered....
and in all of Capstick's books I cannot recall such elaboration.

http://www.bulwer-lytton.com/

2010 winner....

"For the first month of Ricardo and Felicity's affair, they greeted one another at every stolen rendezvous with a kiss--a lengthy, ravenous kiss, Ricardo lapping and sucking at Felicity's mouth as if she were a giant cage-mounted water bottle and he were the world's thirstiest gerbil."

--Molly Ringle, Seattle, Washington (2010 Winner)

Four of my favorite "dark and stormy night" winning entries:

The heather-encrusted Headlands, veiled in fog as thick as smoke in a crowded pub, hunched precariously over the moors, their rocky elbows slipping off land's end, their bulbous, craggy noses thrust into the thick foam of the North Sea like bearded old men falling asleep in their pints. --Gary Dahl, Los Gatos, California (2000 Winner)

As the fading light of a dying day filtered through the window blinds, Roger stood over his victim with a smoking .45, surprised at the serenity that filled him after pumping six slugs into the bloodless tyrant that mocked him day after day, and then he shuffled out of the office with one last look back at the shattered computer terminal lying there like a silicon armadillo left to rot on the information superhighway. --Larry Brill, Austin, Texas (1994 Winner)

As the newest Lady Turnpot descended into the kitchen wrapped only in her celery-green dressing gown, her creamy bosom rising and falling like a temperamental soufflé, her tart mouth pursed in distaste, the sous-chef whispered to the scullery boy, "I don't know what to make of her." --Laurel Fortuner, Montendre, France (1992 Winner)

The notes blatted skyward as the sun rose over the Canada geese, feathered rumps mooning the day, webbed appendages frantically peddling unseen bicycles in their search for sustenance, driven by Nature's maxim, "Ya wanna eat, ya gotta work," and at last I knew Pittsburgh. --Sheila B. Richter, Minneapolis, Minnesota (1987 Winner)

Bill Quimby

Potato or potataa I guess.

For me, I prefer to read things the way people talk verses the Steinbeck type descriptions that last for a hundred words describing sweat trickling off someone's face.

It is a good book and from interesting people.

Bill,
I do not disagree with you hence my 8.5 rating.
I am not scholar from the literary sense but enjoy reading things I can "feel". The Cabelas book met that criteria. I struggle with Hemingway and Tolstoy as I sometimes get lost in the prose and forget the story. I am not comparing the Cabelas to "great writers", but just saying their book was a bit different from others in this genre.

I like Selous famous book but did not like his other works - they were boring.

I enjoy Corbett's writing immmensely but he was no "great" writer , he just told a very good story.

Fred Everett in his two books was Jekyll and Hyde in my opinion. The first book was great story but the second was a bunch of whining.

Jack O'Connor was fun to read in his early years then he became cynical and negative. I quit reading him.

Anyway, the Cabelas are a rags to riches family and it was a fun read, even with the funny phrases.

Dogcat:

I shouldn't have commented because I haven't read the Cabelas books. If you enjoyed them, then they did what their authors intended them to do.

Agree about Selous, but Corbett was a much better writer than you give him credit for.

Fred Everett, whom I met over dinner twice in South Africa, would be the last to say that he had literary talent. When he wrote his second book, he was ill, virtually bankrupt, and disappointed that the first book did not bring him the money he expected it would.

I didn't know Jack O'Connor, but as you do, I suspect he grew more impressed with himself as his fame and fortune grew.

Guess I'll have to buy one of the Cabelas books, just to see what you saw in them. I've enjoyed your reviews of other books, and have grown to respect your Dogcat ratings. Please don't stop doing them just because of this grouchy old man's comments about purple prose. Many readers like it.

Bill Quimby

Clarification.....I have met the Cabela's and really appreciate the work their company does in the hunting and conservation arena.
But book writing.....leave it to the Quimby's of the world, or get a good ghost writer and editor......

I am currently reading this myself. I find the style entertaining and, to me, real. I am, by no stretch, a literary scholar but it reads easily. I like Hemmingway alot but is clearly a different style.

The book at this time is painting a very clear picture of the adventure.

Just my .02
Brad

quote:

Originally posted by billrquimby:
Dogcat:

I shouldn't have commented because I haven't read the Cabelas books. If you enjoyed them, then they did what their authors intended them to do.

Agree about Selous, but Corbett was a much better writer than you give him credit for.

Fred Everett, whom I met over dinner twice in South Africa, would be the last to say that he had literary talent. When he wrote his second book, he was ill, virtually bankrupt, and disappointed that the first book did not bring him the money he expected it would.

I didn't know Jack O'Connor, but as you do, I suspect he grew more impressed with himself as his fame and fortune grew.

Guess I'll have to buy one of the Cabelas books, just to see what you saw in them. I've enjoyed your reviews of other books, and have grown to respect your Dogcat ratings. Please don't stop doing them just because of this grouchy old man's comments about purple prose. Many readers like it.

Bill Quimby

Bill,
I am not literary person. I just read a lot. I know what I like and what appeals to me. Corbett is one of my favorites. Another is Gene Hill and his essays. Stuart Edward White is another one I like.

I think you and have similar tastes, yours a bit more refined and educated than mine. I always read what you recommend by the way.


Ps - you are not grouchy.

Dogcat:

I enjoy Gene Hill's stuff, too, but I'm not much of a shotgunner and wish he had written more about big game hunting.

I have a set of three of Hill's books that I will be selling when we return to our cabin in early May, if you're interested. One is as new, the other two still are in original shrink wrap.

Again, please keep doing your reviews. You have a genuine talent for it.

Bill Quimby

quote:

Originally posted by billrquimby:

I didn't know Jack O'Connor, but as you do, I suspect he grew more impressed with himself as his fame and fortune grew.

Bill Quimby

Jack O'Connor was in love with himself for sure. I thought he was a great writer, but like several other people have stated he was more impressed with himself than anyone else.

Anyone who ran in Jack's circles in those days was kind of a big shot anyway. He was lucky that his finances allowed him to trip on the same rocks as folks like the Pahlavi, Gates, Mellon and McElroy.

Not that Pahlavi and the others were anything but silver spooners, but I think O'Connor saw himself as an elitist.