Rating: 
Summary: Fascinating reporting on an Alaska that no longer exists
Review: In the mid 1970s, John McPhee turned his powers of description toward Alaska at a time when the "Alaskan way of life" was under siege. Alaska had been a state less than 20 years. The claims of natives to the land had been resolved by putting millions of acres in the hands of native corporations. The old "tradition" of immigrants to the land being able to plop down and build a cabin almost anywhere was disappearing under the burden of new regulations. Huge new national parks were designated, and at the same time the pipeline was being constructed, highlighting the old conflict between development and ecology, between preservation and self-determination.Sadly, the Alaska that McPhee wrote about no longer exists. In the first segment, he writes about the Brooks Range wilderness, and discusses the controversy around establishing the "Gates of the Arctic" National Park there. That park is now established. In the second segment, he writes about the aftereffects of the decision to move the state capital from Juneau to somewhere north of Anchorage. That move never occurred. In the third (and longest and most compelling) segment, he reports on the lives of the people of isolated Eagle, Alaska, a town that today boasts a fax machine. The third segment is where McPhee's writing really shines: I don't think anyone has ever conveyed the personality of Alaska and Alaskans as well as McPhee has. My favorite was the story of how one man and his son managed to get an entire C9 Caterpillar bulldozer into the middle of nowhere, clearing their way through 70-foot winter drifts, to set up a gold dredging operation. McPhee conveys the extreme beauty and wildness of the place, and the fire and determination of the people to belong to it. I was sad but impressed to find McPhee accurately foretelling the Exxon Valdez tragedy by predicting that an oil spill in Prince William Sound was the greatest threat to Alaska's environmental health. However, McPhee's account is remarkably balanced; if you're looking for polemic (either pro or anti-environmentalism, for example), you won't find it. In sum, I give this book five stars for the quality of the writing and the insight, but four for being somewhat dated. If you want to learn more about what Alaska was like, you couldn't do better than this, but if you want to know what it's like NOW, you might prefer to supplement this otherwise wonderful book with something else.
Rating: 
Summary: It may send you there ...
Review: In the summer of '81, Jane told me, "You have to read this book!" and meant to give it to me for a birthday gift. However, before she had a chance, I had bought the book and was 80 pages into it. Two summers later, I found myself walking along a desolate stretch of the Alcan Highway in Canada's Yukon Territory. I was hitchhiking to Alaska, a place I felt destined to visit having read "Coming into the Country". I never did make it to Eagle (the village described at length by McPhee) but nonetheless remained "in country" until my money ran out five months later. Few books I have read yield such a feel for a place as this one does.
Rating:
Summary: It may send you there ...
Review: In the summer of '81, Jane told me, "You have to read this book!" and meant to give it to me for a birthday gift. However, before she had a chance, I had bought the book and was 80 pages into it. Two summers later, I found myself walking along a desolate stretch of the Alcan Highway in Canada's Yukon Territory. I was hitchhiking to Alaska, a place I felt destined to visit having read "Coming into the Country". I never did make it to Eagle (the village described at length by McPhee) but nonetheless remained "in country" until my money ran out five months later. Few books I have read yield such a feel for a place as this one does.
Rating:
Summary: A lucid, lyrical account of America's last frontier.
Review: John McPhee is a master at weaving many stories together into a coherent whole. Here he uses these skills to paint a portrait of the varied and often conflicting interests that co-habit today's Alaska. He shifts perspective, examining now the modern-day pioneer who seeks to escape the modern world, and then the representatives of that same world, the government agents and politicians who have their own agenda for America's largest state. This book is wonderfully written in a lucid, literary prose. McPhee puts many other writers of non-fiction, and many of our best literary writers, to shame
Rating:
Summary: A surprisingly satisfying trip
Review: John McPhee is a writer who seems able to interest readers in anything that captures his attention. The range of subjects that his books cover is striking and his skill at involving readers in subjects that they might heretofore have thought uninteresting is, in my opinion, unique. This book, recounting a journey through Alaska - as a pretext for broader commentary about Alaska and its relationship with the lower 48 - is an excellent introduction to the state we only think we know. I read this during a long stretch of living and working in Alaska and found it to be the most insightful and interesting book on the subject that I had found. As is true with all of McPhee's books, this one satisfys on many levels, from the clarity of the prose to the fascinating subject matter. Great stuff.
Rating:
Summary: A good book by a great author...
Review: John McPhee is one of my favorite authors - his substantial "Annals of a Former World" sublime. Thus, it was with no small amount of anticipation that I began his narrated experiences of 1970's Alaska entitled Coming into the Country. Coming into the Country is written in somewhat desultory thirds. The first of which, describing a trip down the Salmon River in the company of state and federal wildlife officials, provides the better reading of the three. The second relates the aborted attempt of the state, flush with speculative oil money, to build a shining new capital in the bush thereby relegating Juneau to the remote backwater that many in the state already considered it to be. McPhee ends his book with a lengthy description of Eagle, Alaska and the residents therein. Alaskans, arguably the last of America's frontiersmen, continue to provide some measure of awe to us of the "lower 48". To his credit, McPhee uncovers some truly heroic characters, but a fair percentage are merely misanthropes whose appearance in outpost Alaska, though unquestionably providential, presents more an unintended and wearing parody than the serious subject matter McPhee presumably seeks. Still, Coming into the Country provides an intriguing if dated look at an American anomaly. Alaska remains an outpost where most Americans will never set foot. Though our 49th state, it seemingly exists a world apart from the rest of the country. Cruise ships may bring tourists to littoral rest stops, but how can any of us from the outside truly comprehend the scale of such a land? Coming into the Country provides at least a kernel of comprehension but, more importantly, a hunger to hunt for more.
Rating:
Summary: A good book by a great author...
Review: John McPhee is one of my favorite authors - his substantial "Annals of a Former World" sublime. Thus, it was with no small amount of anticipation that I began his narrated experiences of 1970's Alaska entitled Coming into the Country. Coming into the Country is written in somewhat desultory thirds. The first of which, describing a trip down the Salmon River in the company of state and federal wildlife officials, provides the better reading of the three. The second relates the aborted attempt of the state, flush with speculative oil money, to build a shining new capital in the bush thereby relegating Juneau to the remote backwater that many in the state already considered it to be. McPhee ends his book with a lengthy description of Eagle, Alaska and the residents therein. Alaskans, arguably the last of America's frontiersmen, continue to provide some measure of awe to us of the "lower 48". To his credit, McPhee uncovers some truly heroic characters, but a fair percentage are merely misanthropes whose appearance in outpost Alaska, though unquestionably providential, presents more an unintended and wearing parody than the serious subject matter McPhee presumably seeks. Still, Coming into the Country provides an intriguing if dated look at an American anomaly. Alaska remains an outpost where most Americans will never set foot. Though our 49th state, it seemingly exists a world apart from the rest of the country. Cruise ships may bring tourists to littoral rest stops, but how can any of us from the outside truly comprehend the scale of such a land? Coming into the Country provides at least a kernel of comprehension but, more importantly, a hunger to hunt for more.
Rating:
Summary: A Great Read
Review: John McPhee is simply a great writer. His skill is the leading character of this novel which is full of intriguing individuals. From characters like the author himself -- who changes and is challenged himself by the environment -- to fellow canoe riders, to grisslies, to yuppie suburbanites, to the self-made, this book delves into what makes people move to Alaska, to adapt, to stay, to survive, to be frustrated, and to not want to be anywhere else.
Rating:
Summary: A Great Read
Review: John McPhee is simply a great writer. His skill is the leading character of this novel which is full of intriguing individuals. From characters like the author himself -- who changes and is challenged himself by the environment -- to fellow canoe riders, to grisslies, to yuppie suburbanites, to the self-made, this book delves into what makes people move to Alaska, to adapt, to stay, to survive, to be frustrated, and to not want to be anywhere else.
Rating:
Summary: One of the best books from one of America's best writers
Review: John McPhee, it's often noted, can write about anythying and make it interesting, so when he tackles a subject as broad and fascinating as Alaska you know you're in for a treat. The book is divided into three parts; it begins in modern Urban Alaska, with the story of its history and contemporary society. From McPhee takes you to the remote villages and towns, a place still populated by Native peoples and rugged outdoorsmen (and women). The last chapter concerns Alaska's last frontier- the remote North Slope, and the men who drill for oil there. Like all McPhee books, the author seems to fade into the background and let the people and the land tell the story for him. Sometimes the reader feels as if or she, and not McPhee, is standing there on an oil rig. Alaska is a rich topic, and McPhee is a wonderful writer. A great combination.
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