"Nothing in my experience of such memoirs is quite like it."
—David Madden
"It is written with such verve and zest that I bow down."
—Wallace Stegner
"Morris is very much alive to the comic possibilities in his father's life and his own childhood — but like a good Westerner, he prefers to tell the story with a straight face. He is even more aware of the serious possibilities of life, but what really interests him is the growth of awareness. The book begins in a kind of imagism — the random impres
"Nothing in my experience of such memoirs is quite like it."
—David Madden
"It is written with such verve and zest that I bow down."
—Wallace Stegner
"Morris is very much alive to the comic possibilities in his father's life and his own childhood — but like a good Westerner, he prefers to tell the story with a straight face. He is even more aware of the serious possibilities of life, but what really interests him is the growth of awareness. The book begins in a kind of imagism — the random impressions of a small boy — and gradually becomes clear and narrative and orderly as the boy grows up. Despite the very different kind of childhood described, the book has much in common with Henry James's Notes of a Son and Brother and much with Wordsworth's Prelude."
—Noel Perrin,
New York Times
"Why do we read with such relish if the author doesn't grow or even react to his experiences all that dramatically? Because of the details. A washer attached to a pipestem, 'green as the bit in the mouth of a horse,' that enables a train conductor to talk without removing his pipe from his mouth; the bright red earmuffs worn by the chauffeur of the Austrian castle's master; an acquaintance's suit worn so thin at the knees that his underwear shows through when he is seated — such details, recalled from half a century ago, are set down as in an intricate still life composed with deadpan humor. The more you look the more you see, and the more you see the more you delight."
—Christopher Lehmann-Haupt,
New York Times
...more
Wright Marion Morris was an American novelist, photographer, and essayist. He is known for his portrayals of the people and artifacts of the Great Plains in words and pictures, as well as for experimenting with narrative forms.
Morris won the National Book Award for The Field of Vision in 1956. His final novel, Plains Song won the American Book Award in 1981.