It's Boring "Following Atticus"...

I have mixed feelings about memoirs. Some memoirs are brilliant and should be read by everyone; others - readers should just pass by. What constitutes a good memoir? For me, it must be well written, keep the reader's interest throughout the story, and have a clear purpose for writing the story. This month, my book club's selected book is a sports/adventure/dog-loving memoir, Following Atticus: Forty-eight High Peaks, One Little Dog, and an Extraordinary Friendship by Tom Ryan. I'm not certain what prompted the suggestion to read this book by a member of the club, but I'm sure she had her reasoning. 

Synopsis: "After a close friend died of cancer, middle-aged, overweight, acrophobic newspaperman Tom Ryan decided to pay tribute to her in a most unorthodox manner. Ryan and his friend, miniature schnauzer Atticus M. Finch, would attempt to climb all forty-eight of New Hampshire's four thousand-foot peaks twice in one winter while raising money for charity. It was an adventure of a lifetime, leading them across hundreds of miles and deep into an enchanting but dangerous winter wonderland. At the heart of the amazing journey was the extraordinary relationship they shared, one that blurred the line between man and dog.

Following Atticus is an unforgettable true saga of adventure, friendship, and the unlikeliest of family, as one remarkable animal opens the eyes and heart of a tough-as-nails newspaperman to the world's beauty and its possibilities." (from the dust jacket)

Review: I really wanted to like this book but sadly, I did not. Of my three requirements for what consistutes a good memoir, this book had none of them. At first, I found the story interesting. But the moments that I found most interesting were the ones that Ryan wrote about the least. The early chapters of the book deal with his life as an underground muck-raking newspaperman here in the small town of Newburyport, MA (where I live). He writes about all the incestuous weirdness that goes on in small towns. I didn't actually know anything about any of this, therefore, I found it interesting and refreshing. 

After that initial thrill, the book goes sharply downhill. When he gets into his mountain hiking jag, Ryan quickly becomes repetitious. He's hiking the same 48 mountains over and over and over and over again. How many different ways can the scenic view from the top of a mountain be described? How many times do we want to hear about the therapeutic value of solitary wilderness? How cold it was or how difficult the climb? I don't see what the big deal is hiking up and down the same small mountains year after year. The book is very self-indulgent. The author comes across as nice guy, but also extremely lonely. His only close companion is a little miniature schnauzer which Ryan drags up one mountain peak after another, and he makes up multiple charity quests as a reason to keep hiking the same mountains.  All I kept thinking is "why do I care about any of this?" The answer was simple: "I don't care."

The worst part is that so many chapters were identical. Cliff hanger to start, cold/snowy/tired, awesome views, and then a very anticlimactic end. It's just not very strong writing and completely lacking any real plot. This story would have made a great magazine article, but not a book. Therefore, if you intend to read the book, I suggest you stop at page 64 and don't waste your time on the last 200 pages.

It should be noted that I (apparently) am in the minority about this book. Most reviews on Amazon are glowing, which I don't comprehend but to each their own.

Rating: 2 out of 5 stars

Atticus is a really cute dog, though.