Into the Twilight, Endlessly Grousing
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- ¥1,800
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- ¥1,800
Publisher Description
Like Twain -- or more contemporary humorists Dave Barry and Garrison Keillor -- Patrick McManus shares the belief that life's eternal verities exist primarily to be overturned. In McManus's world, all steaks should be chicken-fried, strong coffee is drunk by the light of a campfire, and fishing trips consist of men acting like boys and boys behaving like the small animals we've always assumed they were.
In this, the tenth hilarious collection of his adventures, wry observations, and curmudgeonly calls for bigger and bigger fish stories, McManus takes on everything from an Idaho crime wave to his friend Dolph's atomic-powered huckleberry picker to the uncertain joys of standing waist-deep in icy water, watching the fish go by.
PUBLISHERS WEEKLY
Few have extracted more humor from the out-of-doors than McManus (The Night the Bear Ate Goombaw), who here presents his 13th collection of columns, most of them reprinted from Outdoor Life. His humor recalls Thurber's dictum about scenes of chaos and confusion that are remembered in moments of calm. There are wild tales of an injured associate strapped to a stretcher whose carriers took to the trees when a grizzly appeared; a July 4th when the young McManus dropped an outsize but unlit firecracker down his stepfather's waders; his brother-in-law's electric huckleberry-picking machine that came to grief at a critical juncture; and his uncle's beard, which got caught in the belt of the rather proper town librarian as she was leaving the movies. Also included are parodies of the private-eye genre and a profusion of pithy one-liners, such as "Eighty-seven percent of all conversations between friends are based on shared ignorance.... That's the reason so many friendships last a lifetime." With laughs throughout, this is a dandy anthology.
