I do enjoy the experience of reading Stegner. He’s a master. His writing is so captivating and engaging that it draws you in from the very first page. The way he crafts his characters and weaves their stories together is truly remarkable. You can feel the emotions of the characters as if you were right there with them, sharing their joys and sorrows. His descriptions of the settings are also vivid and detailed, making you feel as if you are actually in the places he writes about. Whether it’s the vast landscapes of the American West or the small towns and cities where his characters live, Stegner brings them all to life in a way that few other authors can. Reading his work is not just a pleasure, but an educational and enlightening experience as well. It makes you think about life, love, and the human condition in ways you never thought possible. I can’t wait to see what he has in store for us in the next installment. To be continued…

A short, yet highly skillful novel that surpasses The Angle of Repose. At the outset, it appears that the story is centered around aging gracefully, with a good sense of humor and safety. Despite the corrosive feeling that in one's life, they were merely a spectator, a valet, to the banquet of life. However, it takes an unexpected turn when the husband reads his diary to his wife about a trip they took to Denmark twenty years prior.

For such a concise book, it is remarkably multi-layered, encompassing themes such as settling into retirement, being part of an elderly married couple, and at a certain point in life, one has to decide, as an adult, the path they will take, fully aware of the rewards and pitfalls of their choice. This book effectively captures that intense, white-hot moment when one is confronted with their selection.

A cool sentence from the book is: "We wanted to demonstrate that the rush to the suburbs and the country, when conducted by the right people, could be an enhancement of civilization, not an evasion of it."

It offers a strong, humorous, introspective, and unapologetic examination of a man's life in review.

On a February morning, when a weather front is moving in off the Pacific but has not quite arrived, and the winds are changeable and gusty and clouds drive over and an occasional flurry of fine rain darkens the terrace bricks, this place conforms to none of the clichés about California with which they advertise the Sunshine Cities for the Sunset Years.

So far as I can see, it is bad enough sitting around watching yourself wear out, without putting your only mortal part prematurely into mothballs. I am not likely even to put the papers into order, though that is the excuse I make to Ruth for not starting to write. A sort of Heisenberg Principle applies. Once they are in order, they are dead, and so am I.

Quit being such a Puritan, file the point off the prick of conscience, quit crying mea culpa, quit beating the breast, quit pitying myself.

Just as well I am sharing a computer with others or I would have been copying out quotes all day long instead of getting on with the actual read. Excellent read but not one to embark upon if feeling low esteemed and/or old. The underlying eugenics story didn't ring true at all for me - just didn't buy into that, I'm afraid, and that is where the last star went flying.

Angle of Repose and The Spectator Bird both deserve 4 stars. They offer unique perspectives and engaging stories. However, the eugenics aspect in one of them didn't resonate with me. Overall, they are still great reads that can provide entertainment and food for thought.

Most things break, including hearts. The lessons of life amount not to wisdom, but to scar tissue and callus. This profound thought by Wallace Stegner sets the tone for his remarkable work. I discovered Stegner much like I did Wendell Berry, by chance in a used bookstore. Both are now among my favorite authors. Stegner, often called “The Dean of Western Writers,” is known for his contemplative and beautifully written novels. He won prestigious awards like the Pulitzer Prize and the National Book Award. Besides being a novelist, he had many other talents. The novel The Spectator Bird is about Joe and Ruth Allston, a retired couple. Joe, a 69-year-old former literary agent, feels he has lived as a spectator. One day, an unexpected postcard from an old friend in Denmark stirs up memories. Joe reads his old journals aloud at Ruth’s urging. This forces him to think about his role in their marriage. The story weaves between their present life and their past in Denmark, where they met some aristocrats and Joe had a complex encounter with a distant relative, Astrid. Through it all, Joe realizes he has made some intentional decisions in life and has found a partner in Ruth. The Spectator Bird is a deeply moving novel about love, aging, regret, and memory. It showcases Stegner’s unique ability to explore the intricacies of a marriage, making it one of the best novels I have ever read.

I had long harbored a desire to peruse another novel penned by Wallace Stegner after having been deeply moved by “Crossing to Safety”. “The Spectator Bird” more than fulfilled my expectations, and not merely because it clinched the US National Book Award for Fiction in 1977. Even though it was composed nearly four decades ago, the significance of the themes it explored leaped off the pages, resounding with profound contemplation.

Primarily set in Denmark, “The Spectator Bird” revolves around Joe Allston, a 69-year-old retired literary agent, his wife Ruth, and their summer dalliance with a Danish countess who has fallen from grace. The arrival of a postcard from Astrid Wredel-Krarup unleashes a flood of memories of a “therapy” trip the Allstons embarked on twenty years ago, evoking emotions that hold great significance for Joe, as that interlude was “that irruption of the irrational, that reversion into adolescence”. The narrative is interspersed with journal entries that Joe made during that trip, which he reads aloud to his wife at her insistence.

Perhaps, this novel might strike those in the prime of their lives as rather dreary and depressing. It speaks forthrightly about the dignity or lack thereof in growing old and the harsh realities of a long marriage. Those who have been fortunate enough to experience an enduring marriage might be able to relate to this observation: “After forty-five years we can still, if we let ourselves, bristle and bump one another around like a pair of stiff-legged dogs.” Moreover, there is a sobering meditation on aging: “It is not arthritis and the other ailments...It is just the general comprehension that nothing is building, everything is running down, there are no more chances for improvement.” A brutal awakening for discontented individuals like Joe, for whom it seems life has passed them by. During the Great Depression, he had to choose between becoming a “broke talent” or a “talent broker”. A significant personal loss further deepened his sense of helplessness, leaving him to “scratch dead leaves” over what he preferred not to see.

What I found most poignant was the way the Allstons grappled with the revelations that surfaced from reading the journal entries. Half the time, I read with bated breath, witnessing the thoughts and feelings that Joe could not censor while reading, all the while unable to escape the intuitive assessment of his wife. A quiet grimace betrayed unacknowledged needs and fears. “The Spectator Bird” is about honesty in intimacy. It is about choices. Joe put it aptly when he said, “It has seemed to me that my commitments are often more important than my impulses or my pleasures, and that even when my pleasures or desires are the principal issue, there are choices to be made between better and worse, bad and better, good and good.” Each choice is made with “a big component of pain”.

Steger has an exquisite command of language, which is at times charmingly interspersed with self-deprecating humor. His words have a piercing quality that can unnerve the reader, yet one cannot help but keep reading. Besides the Allstons, the novel also has a captivating story to tell about the Countess and the incredulous circumstances that led to her ostracism from Danish society. Truly a great book!

I have had a collection of Wallace Stegner's works in my library for several years. However, I never managed to select one to read. Then, about a week ago, I went to the library, and this particular book seemed to catch my attention. At the age of 63, which I believe is a suitable age for reading this book, I embarked on a very worthwhile and thought-provoking week of reading.

The author writes beautifully, and this book delves into various aspects of life that I think can only be truly appreciated when one reaches the Golden Years. It discusses aging, health, relationships, as well as past lives and loves (or at least past desires). Even though it was written in the 1970s, the book does not feel outdated, and the emotions and themes Stegner presents are still fresh and relevant today. Perhaps it is because I retired relatively early, but I have spent a significant amount of time reflecting on my own life. Taking the time to contemplate one's life makes this book a perfect choice for a retired person to read.

If it is such a great book, then why not give it a 5***** rating? Well, for me, it is because although the genetics portion of the book is part of the story, it just didn't seem entirely believable and was difficult to fathom. There were some questions that remained unanswered, and for this reason alone, it lost a star in my opinion. Nevertheless, for me, this was a very good book. I read a significant portion of it to my wife, who also enjoyed it, and the book made me realize that it is time for me to spend less time dwelling on the past and start looking forward to the future. At 63, there is still a lot of life left to live, even though I experience many of the same aches and pains as the main character, Joe Allston.

An observant soul, that spectator bird.

Joe Allston, a literary agent perhaps accustomed to polishing brighter stars, finds himself in a rather unexpected situation. If he were in Denmark, one or more poets might have called him “an attendant lord.” In fact, it is not just chance that leads Allston to Denmark. It all begins with a postcard, a postcard that arrives now that he is retired. The postcard is from a countess he once knew in Denmark, and it prompts him to rummage through his boxed memories for a journal he kept during those days. His wife, Ruth, who was with him in Denmark and shared that experience, wants him to read the journal to her, just a bit every night. The reader can immediately sense Allston’s discomfort.

The literary device used here, while a bit awkward, effectively transports us from the Allstons’ home in California to that time in Denmark twenty years before. There are plots aplenty, secrets waiting to be unfolded. However, to be frank, some of the plot feels a bit strained, as if Stegner felt an obligation to his readers to provide a continuous story. It may be a necessary evil, but it allows that spectator bird to do just that – spectate.

Stegner compares it to what Willa Cather once said, that you can’t paint sunlight, you can only paint what it does with shadows on a wall. But Allston muses, what if you’re the wall? What if you never cast a shadow or rainbow of your own, but have only caught those cast by others?

There is much self-reflection in this story that will resonate with those entering their twilight years. Allston considers each body part as it hurts or is otherwise compromised, with a touch of self-deprecation. It is the diffused pain that he suspects is rheumatoid arthritis that sends him to the Britannica – this being a time before the internet – because, as he says, the unexamined disease is not worth having. And I liked this about Joe Allston: The encyclopedia did not mention bourbon as a treatment for rheumatoid arthritis, either because the learned man who wrote the article did not deal in the obvious or because he wasn’t that learned after all.

The contrived plot does have its benefits. In particular, there is a meeting and lovely dialogue with Karen Blixen. But at its heart, this is a story about an old married couple and how they survive, how they share. At one point, they are having a conversation about another couple, the husband dying. And Joe Allston, who only appears heartless, starts with some rather touching remarks.

“Well, we don’t have to for a while.”

“No. We’re lucky, we really are.”

“I always thought I was.”

“See?” she said. “You really can be nice.”

“Given provocation.”

Beautiful in so many ways!

My heart is full. This simple statement holds a world of meaning. The beauty that surrounds us can be found in the simplest of things. It could be the vibrant colors of a sunset, the gentle sway of a flower in the breeze, or the smile on a loved one's face.

When we take the time to notice these beautiful aspects of life, our hearts are filled with a sense of joy and contentment. It's as if all the worries and stress fade away, and we are left with a pure and unadulterated feeling of happiness.

We should strive to find beauty in every day, to appreciate the little things that make life so wonderful. Because when our hearts are full of beauty, we are able to live a more fulfilling and meaningful life.

Let us open our eyes and hearts to the beauty that exists all around us, and allow it to fill us with love and light.

Since retiring, he has experienced approximately three heart attacks and written around five books. It is certain that at the age of eighty-five, or whatever age he actually is, he still envisions writing five more books, and perhaps he is already halfway through the next one. His last Christmas letter included a line that should be inscribed above every geriatric door. He states that when asked if he feels like an old man, he replies that he does not. Instead, he feels like a young man with something amiss. He has a charming and humorous face, as well as an innocent resilience that makes me feel ashamed of myself. As an advocate for old age, he is even better than Ben Alexander. And Rosie, just by the sight of her at a distance of a hundred yards, can make you feel good.

This man's life after retirement is truly remarkable. Despite the challenges he has faced with his health, he remains incredibly productive and ambitious. His attitude towards aging is refreshing and inspiring. He doesn't let the number of years on his clock define him or limit his aspirations. Instead, he continues to pursue his passion for writing and seems to have an endless supply of creativity and energy.

Rosie, on the other hand, has a special charm that can brighten up someone's day from a distance. Her presence alone has a positive impact on those around her. It's wonderful to have such people in our lives, who can teach us valuable lessons about aging gracefully and finding joy in the simplest of things.

Overall, this story serves as a reminder that age is just a number and that we should never stop believing in ourselves and our abilities. No matter how old we are, we can still make a difference and lead fulfilling lives.

Ever notice how, on rare occasions, certain writers truly shine for their remarkable ability to capture the intricate and nuanced ways of people? This is typically a cause for celebration as these profound insights are there for us to soak in. However, it can also be a source of distress when what is revealed is a harsh truth. For me, Wallace Stegner is precisely that kind of author, and this book is one that I have a complex relationship with. In fact, "hate" is too strong a word, even when combined with a positive aspect. I should say that I experienced twinges of disappointment when the all-too-human elements in the main character's makeup hindered a greater sense of happiness. Don't misunderstand me. I'm not seeking the saccharine slants à la Hallmark. I simply feel a sense of sadness about missed opportunities, especially when those responsible for the omissions are characters whose innermost thoughts I've been devouring with great interest.

I've already shared with you about the malaise. I might as well mention a significant reason for it (while being careful not to disclose more than what's on the back cover). Joe Allston, a cantankerous 69-year-old former literary agent, and his kind-hearted wife Ruth lead a rather secluded life in northern California. They tragically lost their son in a surfing accident over 20 years ago. To make matters worse, Joe felt that there were unresolved father-son issues at the time of the incident.

The story commences as a postcard arrives from an old friend from a trip that Joe and Ruth took to Denmark. The extended stay there was, in part, intended as a form of therapy to divert their minds from their then-fresh and constant grief. It also gave Joe the opportunity to explore the small town where his mother had lived before emigrating to the states and giving birth to him. As fate would have it, they stayed with a Danish countess whose reduced circumstances compelled her to take in boarders. Astrid (the countess) was the one who sent the postcard. This triggered memories of the trip, which Joe delved into further by retrieving a journal he had kept at the time. Ruth asked him to read it aloud so that she, too, could take a journey back in time.

The initial entries in the journal were made during the boat ride over. They had met an older couple, which inspired Joe to write descriptively about their kind and about judgmental people in general.

They sit in lace-curtained parlors and tsk-tsk on an indrawn breath, they know every unwanted pregnancy in town sooner than the girl does, they want English teachers in Augustana College fired for assigning A Farewell to Arms, they wrote the Volstead Act.

Once they arrived, the focus of the journal shifted to the countess. They discovered that despite her elegance and good breeding, she was being shunned by society types. Her estranged husband, unbeknownst to her when they were together, had been a Nazi sympathizer. Later during their stay, they learned something else that explained the perceptions of her peers, but it would be a spoiler to say more. I will say that you may or may not believe this revelation. I decided that for me, it was just a side issue, and that the far more crucial part of the book was Joe's exploration of himself.

This self under scrutiny was very thoroughly examined. Joe's observational skills as a "spectator," passively taking in the world around him, were sharp enough to recognize himself as a spectator, passively observing. This quote was telling:

I was reminded of a remark of Willa Cather's, that you can't paint sunlight, you can only paint what it does with shadows on a wall. If you examine a life, as Socrates has been so tediously advising us to do for so many centuries, do you really examine the life, or do you examine the shadows it casts on other lives? Entity or relationships? Objective reality or the vanishing point of a multiple perspective exercise? Prism or the rainbows it refracts? And what if you're the wall? What if you never cast a shadow or rainbow of your own, but have only caught those cast by others?

Relatedly, Joe seemed to regret his apparent detachment:

That is the way the modern temper would read me. Babbitt, the man who in all his life never did one thing he really wanted to. One of those Blake was scornful of, who controlled their passions because their passions are feeble enough to be controlled. One of those Genteel Tradition characters whose whole pale ethos is subsumed in an act of renunciation.

But might there have been times, considering what the journal hinted at but left out, when his passions were less subdued? And might his actions or inactions in the face of these be even more defining in his life? You see, I know the answers to these questions, and the only way you will is to read this masterful book.

While I don't rate this one quite as highly as Angle of Repose or Crossing to Safety, those are standards that few, if any, can surpass. Stegner was approximately Joe's age when he wrote it, and advancing years were a recurring theme. As bitter as old Vin de Joe had become, I would have preferred a more optimistic example to follow. Beyond that, lines like this are starting to resonate deeply:

[...] I felt an uneasy adolescent peeking from behind my old-age make-up, as if I were a sixteen-year-old playing Uncle Vanya in the high school play [...]

Hey, but at least I wouldn't describe my face as a "spiderweb with eyes." Not yet, anyway.

Quibbles aside, here's the bottom line: Wallace Stegner is the real deal. With him, there is profound insight and great writing on every page. I hope you all do yourselves the favor of experiencing his wisdom and art.

Joe Allston and his wife are advancing in years, and Joe is overcome with a sense of purposelessness in his life.

After receiving a postcard from an old "friend," he decides to read to his wife the journals of a trip they took to Scandinavia decades ago, following the death/suicide of their son.

The book is a source of pain as one suspects throughout that Joe has had an affair with this "friend," yet the actual truth is completely unexpected.

I adored the book because it was written by Stegner, who is an incredibly talented writer. However, this particular work was extremely disturbing to me. It wasn't the controversy regarding the countess's family that bothered me, but rather the relationship between Allston and his wife.

How could one suspect that their spouse has had an affair for 30 years and never bring it up? And yet, Stegner manages to make a book about seemingly nothing so profound and true.

I would have given it 4 stars in the week after reading it, but a month later, it doesn't seem as impactful. If you're looking for a Stegner book, it would be advisable to read Angle of Repose or Crossing to Safety first.

Spectator Bird is Stegner's profound exploration of aging.

Perhaps it's because at the age of 67, towards the end of his career, he might have felt like an old man.

He didn't stop creating in the remaining years of his life.

This work, which portrays a literary agent who thinks he has been a mere spectator of life rather than an active participant, is one of the finest on this topic.

There is a great deal of regret within it, not the kind of sudden change of heart that would be found in a less accomplished novel.

Moreover, it presents a beautiful depiction of a long-term marriage.

In addition, there is a charming and concise cameo by Karen Blixen.

Overall, Spectator Bird offers a deep and nuanced look at the complex themes of aging, regret, and the nature of life and marriage.

It stands as a testament to Stegner's skill as a writer and his ability to capture the essence of these universal experiences.

Readers can expect to be moved and enlightened by this thought-provoking work.