Mark Twain's Life on the Mississippi, originally published in 1883, is part memoir, part paean to the Mississippi River and its culture, and part compilation of whatever miscellaneous anecdotes Twain thought were worth relating.

Twain begins with a history of the Mississippi since it was discovered by de Soto in 1541. He then discusses in great detail his training and early career as a steamboat pilot before the Civil War, and the accompanying science of navigating the river. Mastering the river in Twain's time was a mind-boggling achievement - it required the memorization of the entire river from St. Louis to New Orleans, and this monumental task was complicated by the Mississippi's tendency to change its course constantly. Later in life, Twain and some companions traveled on a steamboat from St. Louis to New Orleans, and he discusses in great detail how the riverboating industry (as well as industry in general) has changed. This account reads something more like a travelogue.

Interspersed through this account are a number of anecdotes and commentaries, covering a various and sundry range of topics, including tall tales, legends, architecture, culture, grammar, mule racing, cockfighting, and Sir Walter Scott's detrimental effect on the American South. One could spend several pages listing the topics Twain covers, but suffice it to say that the majority will be of interest to the discerning modern reader. His tall tales (often related as fact) are particularly good.

Twain is just as engaging here as he is in his fiction. He is self-deprecating and tongue-in-cheek, and his style is completely endearing. And if a particular topic is not of interest to the reader, well, he moves on quickly enough.

Ultimately, Life on the Mississippi is a fascinating read, not only for detailed insight into nineteenth-century life in America, but also for the countless tales Twain relates in his inimitable style.

This is my first exposure to Twain, and I enjoyed it, but it is a bit of an odd book. The first half (or so) is autbiographical--about his learning to be a pilot before the Civil War. The second half is his return to the river in the early 1880s, with many observations about how it and the people who live on it have changed. Throughout, there are engaging anecdotes and stories, many of them mixing humor and horror, and these kept me going through the long stretches about how the river has changed its course through the decades. You can see how Vonnegut and Heller can be seen as Twain's descendents after reading the book--the occassionally morbid, satirical voice that seems to permiate American humor.

All in all, a bit of a mixed bag, at least for me. Worth reading, but I wish I had skimmed more passages than I did!

Every time I look at a river, I think of Mark Twain and his adventures on the Mississippi. His writing, always funny and warm, tells us first of the history and stories of his beloved river, and then of his experiences learning the steamboat trade. I found his description of being a steamboat student very similar to being a medical student: two-hundred years later and in completely different trades, route memorization and gradual responsibility for people's lives still have much in common. This book made me want to travel the Mississippi, not as it stands today but as it appeared to Twain in his youth. I feel the same way about Gabriel Garcia Marquez and his Magdalena river. I think it is amazing how these inspired authors can make me love a river I have never seen.

In Life on the Mississippi the steamboat is depicted as the workhorse of Midwest expansion. Prior to the advent of the railroad efficient inland transportation was confined to waterways and the Mississippi river basin , with "about 1,250,000 square miles," was the "Body of the Nation." (Twain, preface) Mark Twain fulfills his boyhood dream of becoming a river boat pilot and, returning some twenty-one years later, writes of his youthful experiences and later observations

The steamboat was a technological phenomena. The vehicle that evolved to meet the unique demands of this particular environment was a special design of river boat. In his own inimical style Mark Twain captures both the excitement of the riverboat's arrival and describes its essential components:

"She is long and sharp and trim and pretty; she has two tall, fancy-topped chimneys, with a gilded device of some kind swung between them; a fanciful pilothouse, all glass and "gingerbread," perched on top of the "texas" deck behind them; the paddle-boxes are gorgeous with a picture or with gilded rays above the boat's name; the boiler deck; the hurricane deck, and the texas deck are fenced and ornamented with clean white railings; there is a flag gallantly flying from the jack-staff; the furnace doors are open and the fires glaring bravely; the upper decks are black with passengers; the captain stands by the big bell calm, imposing, the envy of all; great volumes of the blackest smoke are rolling and tumbling out of the chimneys...the crew are grouped on the forecastle; the broad stage is run far out over the port bow, and an envied deck hand stands picturesquely on the end of it with a coil of rope in his hand; the pent steam is screaming through the gauge cocks; the captain lifts his hand, a bell rings, the wheels stop; then turn, back, churning the water to foam, and the steamer is at rest." (27)

Within a period of ten minutes the boat has been offloaded, loaded and departed. It is an efficiency of system and design ideally suited to its unique purposes, but as the Civil War looms its days are numbered. By then the steamboat had already evolved to it most advanced state and the steam locomotive has become the dominant form of transportation

As a literary piece by a "brilliant travel writer and incomparable humorist" (Kaplan, in Twain, xvii) Life on the Mississippi earned its accolades, but, as a window into a period of time, one can extract an eyewitnesses truth. In Life on the Mississippi, Mark Twain describes the latter period of the steamboat's heyday dramatically cut short. Wartime technology did not improve the riverboat other than to convert it into an instrument of war. What doomed the steamboat to oblivion was the advent of the steam locomotive and the railroads. The steamboat well served the purposes of river life in its time but was eclipsed by the railroad.

That the steamboat was functional is indisputable, but if form determines function, it was a perfect adaptation of a water craft in conformity with purpose and contemporary technology. Combined with light weight and flexible wood construction the steamboat evolved into a shallow draft, wide beamed, low freeboard hull propelled by stern or side paddle wheels. The overall size of a steamboat was a compromise between maneuverability and economy. Power plant, fuel, cargo and passengers were accommodated within a superstructure rising above the hull. Bulk items, machinery, deck hands and low fare passengers were located on the main deck; superior public and private accommodations at higher fares were on the upper decks. Here travelers could enjoy incomparable luxury.

High on top of all was the pilothouse. River pilots, by necessity of their position earned through their experience and knowledge of the river, had the best view. By status, they were the pinnacle of river hierarchy. Mark Twain, on his 1882 return to the river, quaintly asks of a fellow passenger he suspects of being a river pilot: "Have you ever traveled with a panorama." The passenger responds, "I have formerly served in that capacity. [Twain's] suspicion was confirmed." (315) Only higher than the pilothouse were the tall stacks made so for the purpose of disgorging noxious black smoke and dangerous smoldering ash to the wind.

All components contributed to functionality, but perhaps the "stage" or ramp which bridged the gap between the boat and shore, contributed most to its versatility. It enabled the boat to be hailed from landings along the shore without the aid of a dock. As an apprentice, Mark Twain is left alone on the bridge for the first time by his mentor. His initial proud serenity is broken by a sudden awareness that the boat is heading for imminent impact with a "bluff reef." His panicked reaction throws the ship into reverse, but he is saved by the return of the pilot who calmly restores order and chastises him. "When you have a hail, my boy, you ought to tap the big bell three times before you land, so the engineers can get ready." (53) The "bluff reef" was actually a wind reef (from the effect of wind on the surface) and they sailed uneventfully through it.

The romance of the steamboat era is tarnished by frequent tragedy. Mark Twain loses his brother Henry, a cabin boy on the Pennsylvania, who died when the ship's boilers explode in June 1858. The hazards of operating year round and during night and day, plus the varying river conditions contributed to mistakes of judgment and probably just bad luck too! The pilot may have been king, but he was still human and suffered from the human faults of vain glory, unrealistic confidence, ego, and infallibility.

When he returns to the river in 1882 after an absence of twenty-one years, Mark Twain notes the changes that have occurred on the river. There are very few ships left in operation. Passenger travel is limited in frequency and destinations. The romance he once knew is gone, but a new one is beginning, the romance of the rails.

Today we know that the railroad too would have its heyday and, in time, its romance would also wane. But has the romance of the steamboat and rail eras disappeared? Today you can take cruises on Mississippi riverboats and luxury train trips across the continent. The difference now is that trips are for novelty and not necessity. The romance only comes from the remembrance of a time past and not the needs of the present.

This is the book that Mark Twain himself thought to be his greatest. It is basically a memoir in two parts of his life spent on the river with historical sketches, statistics, and other matters thrown in.

The first part of the book tells of Twain's early years as a riverboat pilot. He talks about being a cub pilot, about learning about the intricacies of the river and the difficulties of navigating it, and about his mentor Horace Bixby. Twain's love of the river and his pride in "mastering" it are made obvious in these chapters.

The second part recounts Twain's return to the river in 1882, mainly to "see it again" in preparation of writing this book. Starting in St. Louis, he first goes south through Baton Rouge to New Orleans. He spends a bit of time there and describes life as he sees it in the city (there's a funny chapter regarding the above-ground cemeteries and an argument about cremation). Then he heads north on the steamboat City of Baton Rouge, piloted by his old mentor Horace Bixby. He stops off in Hannibal for three days, just enough time to see how much the town and some old acquaintances have changed, and then continues all the way to St. Paul, Minnesota.

Twain's humor, as he recounts conversations with people, sights seen, reminiscences dredged up, and a myriad of other matters that fill the book, is always evident. It's one of the great books on the mighty river, and whether you are a lover of the works of Mark Twain or interested in the Mississippi River during the time period just before and after the Civil War, you will enjoy this book.