[.ca] Irons in the Fire (ISBN 0374525455)

From Amazon.com:
Master essayist John McPhee heard about vehicles in Nevada that resemble police cars, but the cop inside was actually a "brand inspector," a lawman charged with tracking cattle rustlers. Ever curious, McPhee left his home in New Jersey for Nevada and spent a few weeks in those cars. The title essay of this collection is, as we've come to expect from McPhee, well-reported and beautifully written. Also included are essays based on McPhee's observations of a stand of virgin forest in the middle of New Jersey, a huge pile of automobile tires in California, and a long and fascinating look at forensic geologists and how stones tell a story.

Two Great Essays & Five ... Others:
Although I've long heard of the prolific essayist McPhee, I'd never actually read anything by him until now. While I admire his curiosity about the world around him, only of two of the seven essays (all of which were previously published in some form in The New Yorker I believe) really captured my attention. "The Gravel Page" is in fact seventy pages about the compelling subject of geological forensics. It holds together somewhat better than some of the other pieces because McPhee uses several high-profile cases (the kidnapping/murder cases of beer magnate Adolph Coors III in Colorado and DEA agent Enrique Salazar in Mexico) to show how soil analysts can play a key role in solving a crime. Equally compelling (perhaps because it's a topic that has a broader impact), is his foray into the world of auto tire disposal. There are a number of amazing facts he brings to light, the number of tires discarded, the rejection of retreads in the US despite no difference in safety, shredding and recycling entrepreneurs, and most impressive, the amount of recoverable petroleum in each tire. For example, according to McPhee, burning tires yield more energy than lignite coal, with similar emissions. So, let's see, we could be recycling tires for fuel instead of trying to rip more coal of the ground. Hmm, tough call... In any event, these two essays are worth checking the book out of the library for. The other five essays are as follows: "Irons in the Fire" starts out promisingly enough as a behind the scenes look at modern-day brand inspectors in Nevada, complete with rustlers. Unfortunately, unless you have some particular interest in cattle, digressions and its 50+ pages of length may render it rather numbing after a while. The second piece, "Release," is an entirely mawkish-and thankfully brief-portrait of an author who uses voice-recognition software on his computer to assist his writing. It might have been remarkable fifteen years ago, but we've all seen umpteen of these stories on the local news since then. He tries to milk some humor out of it via the computer's awkward pronunciation, but its just not funny. "In Virgin Forest," is another brief entry, this time about a bit of primordial deciduous forest just across the river from Manhattan in New Jersey. It's kind of neat to discover how it came to survive in pristine form in such an unlikely place, but there's not a whole lot more to it. "Rinhard at Manheim" is perhaps the oddest piece-it's basically the transcribed ramblings of a friend of McPhee's who's a scout at a "exotic car" auction, as he describes the merits and deficiencies of various luxury sports cars. There doesn't seem to be much point-or even humor-to it. The final essay, on the history, repair, and geological origins of Plymouth Rock is rather tedious on the whole, although geologists, stonemasons or history buffs might find it more worthwhile.

Least piece is best piece.:
As always, McPhee's work is a zenith of style. But, in this collection, his shortest piece is his most fascinating. For, who is this mysterious "Rinard at Manheim," whose knowledge and wit are at least equal to the author's?

Cattle, cars and cobbles:
What could be more presumptuous than attempting to sit in judgment of writings of John McPhee? Essayist of the American scene for the New Yorker magazine, McPhee is a lodestone for people unheralded, forgotten or simply unknown. When you read his accounts of their lives and work, his use of language, image, empathy will instill them in your memory. There, they will be cherished, later re-examined to be reflected on, or valued, or best of all, emulated. All his subjects are worthy role examples, but that is only a part of the value of reading McPhee's accounts of their lives. His scope is vast, bringing together personalities, history - often at some depth, and other related information. All this seems to pale in the light of his ability form sentences that lead you into novel worlds, elevate your interest in something unexpected, or simply describe an otherwise mundane event. This book starts with a shock - cattle rustling isn't a practice limited to Hollywood's false sense of history. Cattle duffing remains an active practice in Nevada. Branding, the symbol of ownership, is still subject to the "running iron" in shifting title without accompanying cash exchange. Law enforcement is not applied by gun-toting marshals, but by a Brand Inspector marking tallies in the palm of his hand. McPhee escorts one across vast stretches of the Basin and climbs thousands of feet over the Range to "take attendance" of cattle like a country schoolmarm. There's little limit to how far he must travel - tracking moving cattle may lead him to California or southern Utah. McPhee's descriptions of the country are more than matched by his relation of successful apprehensions of rustlers. His account brings the action into sharp focus and you are beside the Inspector staking out a mountain hideaway. McPhee raises the term "investigative journalist" to fresh levels of excellence. Other topics in this collection include word processing for a blind author, understanding gravel as evidence, exotic automobiles and the travels and travails of a glacial boulder - a special one. His guidance through these topics is sure, keeping your interest at a peak as he conveys a wealth of information and character description. As with any McPhee book, this one remains timeless. It's worth your attention - and retention.

An entertaining and fascinating book by a gifted writer.:
Once again, McPhee has revealed the fascinating hidden sides to a number of subjects which at first appear ordinary. He is The Master at popularizing Earth Science, and shows why in the most entertaining manner. Others more talented than I, and who make a living reviewing books, have already reviewed and praised this book. I have a question of the publisher, though. At the front of the book, below the card-catalog data, is the following statement: "A NOTE ON THE BINDING The die on the front of the binding -Lazy J Over Running M Combined- was created by Ellie Wyeth Fox for the author". Where is this die (cattle brand?) to be found? I looked all over my copy of this book and could not find it anywhere.

A collection of engrossing short pieces, perfectly written.:
Mr. McPhee again turns his discerning eye on the work people do, what it entails, what it means to the worker, and (usually), how the author feels about it. Then he expands the context to outline its national, geophysical, geopolitical, economical, or other relevant influence, always in human terms. THIS MAN CAN WRITE! Here, he ranges from current-day cattle rustling in Nevada, to computers for the blind, to the content of a virgin forest in New Jersey (!), to the mortal hazards faced by high-tech soil-analyzing crimesolvers, to the sheer scope and methods of used tire disposal, to a short piece on an exotic auto auction in Pennsylvania, to the likely origins and the repair of Plymouth Rock. All, thanks to the author, are wonderful to read. But then, so is everything he has published.