The Bear in the Attic FROM THE PUBLISHER
Patrick McManus's wry wit has made him an American classic, his trademark outdoorsman's humor endearing him not only to fellow wilderness enthusiasts, but to anyone who enjoys a good laugh. In his newest collection of hilarious essays, he ponders the strange allure of the RV, a thirtieth-century hunting trip, the art of wrestling toads, the existential implications of being lost, the baffling tendency of animals to outsmart hunters, the singular pleasure of doubling the size of every fish that gets away, and what happens when a bear named Pooky decides to hibernate in the attic. Combining the curmudgeonly voice of Dave Barry and the clever insights of Garrison Keillor with his own keen sense of the absurd, McManus brilliantly captures the funny and strange in our everyday existence, while managing to evoke a childlike wonder at the natural world.
SYNOPSIS
The beloved humorist and bestselling author returns with his most riotous collection of essays to date.
FROM THE CRITICS
Publishers Weekly
Prolific humorist Patrick McManus (The Deer on a Bicycle) offers another winsome collection of anecdotes and essays on fishing, camping, hunting and other outdoor activities and catastrophes. Childhood hijinks loom especially large in The Bear in the Attic: McManus recalls youthful culinary misadventures that culminated in a rock-hard loaf of bread useful only as a football; faking a cold so that he could finish an overdue book report only to take a disastrous impromptu fishing trip with the eccentric neighborhood woodsman; and other mischief-making. McManus also intersperses more recent tales of the sporting life as well as family life in his native North Idaho. Copyright 2002 Cahners Business Information.
Library Journal
Fans of humorist McManus (I Fish Therefore I Am) will enjoy this latest compilation of stories and recollections about camping, fishing, and home life. Combining a knack for outdoorsy storytelling with a clever sense of humor that has a slight curmudgeonly edge, these witty anecdotes will please a broad range of readers. The title story is skillfully written as a yarn being spun for his granddaughter. The banter between her and McManus about how much she enjoys going to the library is good for a few bonus laughs. McManus also regales the reader with tales about growing up, including one titled "Sling Bleed" about the consequences of using a homemade slingshot. He shuttles back and forth between childhood and adulthood as he describes early attempts at culinary magic while camping, contrasted with the current state of roughing it while watching videos and eating canap s in a recreational vehicle. Successfully capturing the everyday foibles that make up our lives, McManus's latest is recommended for humor collections in public libraries. [Previewed in Prepub Alert, LJ 4/1/02.] Joe Accardi, William Rainey Harper Coll. Lib., Palatine, IL Copyright 2002 Cahners Business Information.
Kirkus Reviews
After 15 collected frolics (Into the Twilight, Endlessly Grousing, 1997, etc.), McManus returns, still camping in territory as daunting as his own backyard. As usual, this is a comic backpack full of ineptitude in thick woods. With old reliable stock players like wife Bun, Retch Sweeney, Rancid Crabtree, and Crazy Eddie Muldoon, supported by Dicky Scroon Esq. and cousin Vile, McManus hikes past Starvation Flats to bivouac betwixt Mt. Horrible and Mt. Misery. In the author's blistered hands, the environs of Blight, Idaho, are as real as those of Lake Woebegon or Yoknapatawpha County. Blight County is where our woodland M�nchhausen does some of his hunting and fishing and most of his talking. He discusses his considerable concern with fearsome bears and comments at length on his bewildered feet. But along with contemplation on matters ursine and podiatric, McManus also communes with nature, insects in particular. He offers one chapter comprised of two sentences nearly sufficient to compete in length, though not topic, with Molly Bloom's closing monologue in Ulysses. The Maupassant of Outdoor Life (where most of these pieces first appeared) presents stories in fine country style about mud, wiener stews, and Bob the celebrated wrestling toad of Blight County. In the personal-history department, we're told that young Pat learned to drive in a truck that had a first gear so low it "could almost climb trees, and occasionally made the attempt." Like many grown men, McManus has the psyche of a ten-year-old, and the tall tales of his youth when everything cost fifteen cents will evoke smiles. He is adept at baiting and playing out his pieces until he hooks readers. It's a game of catch and releasewith his audience. For the reader who once wore a mackinaw or grasped a shotgun shell or bamboo fishing pole, McManus once again offers a camp right at home-and real bucolic fun.
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