Beyond Tom Sawyer: Mark Twain Reads and More

Mark Twain has been on my mind a lot lately and today the world and I were finally on the same page, at least according to Twitter. For a brief, glorious moment Mark Twain was trending above Rajon Rondo (whose trade appears imminent) or any Bieber-fan-supported topic. So I thought I'd take this cosmic indication (almost as celestially significant as the moment of Twain's birth and death, both of which occurred during Halley's Comet) to mean I should share some good reads I've discovered as of late on the matter.



Mark Twain: The Adventures of Samuel L. Clemens by Jerome Loving.


Not for the faint of heart or the poor of sight, this lengthy biography takes Twain seriously so be prepared for obscure references and maybe revisit some of those Twain books you haven't seen since middle school. It's still a better alternative to actually struggling through the scattered collected writings of Twain's recently released autobiography (I tried and didn't get far). In fact, it might be just the primer you need to fully appreciate what I'm sure must be the hidden gems of that much anticipated text. Best of all, a lovely reprint of a young, shirtless Twain graces the title pages of the book, so there's that.

Twain's Feast: Searching for America's Lost Foods in the Footsteps of Samuel Clemens by Andrew Beahrs.

Written by Berkeley resident, foodie, and fellow Twain lover, Beahrs draws inspiration from the letters and writings of Clemens to track down what ever happened to prairie hens (now huddled on a few acres of protected plains in Illinois) or Lake Tahoe trout (similarly struggling to hang on with the help of a few dedicated individuals). Bearhs backs up Twain's work with his own research to round out a look at several regional foods and dishes that have either fallen out of fashion or fallen prey to fashion and been over-produced into near oblivion. But it remains through and through a love letter to Twain, tracking his adventurous life that led him to sample all these specialties. Meanwhile, Twain was busy writing a love letter to his country when he was, as he felt, exiled to another world tour of speaking engagements to keep him from bankruptcy. How he missed the coffee, the cream, the syrup, the cranberries, the oysters so specific to the towns and cities he was so far away from. Ah, how we miss them too.


Wicked River: The Mississippi When It Last Ran Wild by Lee Sandlin.


Using the salacious travel stories, personal letters, and hyperbolic newspaper accounts of life on the Mississippi before it was tamed, Sandlin recreates a textured description of this epic river that Twain knew briefly as a steamboat pilot. While some sources have a dubious grasp on reality, they all offer entertaining anecdotes. Gangs of pirates? Cholera outbreaks? An earthquake so strong it made the river run backwards for days? Sandlin's got it all. A quick read that leaves the reader a little sad and a little glad not to have lived in that time. Warning: multiple mentions of crazy 19th century orgies, apparently there was nothing good on TV back then.

Bayou Farewell: The Rich Life and Tragic Death of Louisiana's Cajun Coast by Mike Tidwell.

An update to Sandlin's 19th century romp down the river, Tidwell's Bayou Farewell is the thought-provoking account of what happened as a result of the river's taming. Before the Army Corps of Engineers came in and rerouted the river with a series of locks and levees, the Mississippi routinely changed its course. A curse for the pilots that had to navigate through constantly changing currents, channels, and sandbars, this movement also helped build up the collage of land and bayous that form the Louisiana coast with a steady supply of river silt. All that changed in the name of efficiency and the coast lost its source of land-building sediment and, as Tidwell posits, an entire Cajun culture will soon be lost as well. But Tidwell brings sediment, silt, and the coast to life after spending over a year living with shrimpers along the coast. Tidwell introduces readers to the growing community of Vietnamese fishers, the native Houmas who struggle for recognition even among fellow Native Americans, and the families of Cajun shrimpers who watch the land disappear day by day as their children contemplate another life. Fear not, there are professors and activists hard at work on research and legislation that could help halt the process. We all know about New Orleans (I hope), now learn about the coast.