Chronicles the lusty lives of the sprawling Bean family--brawling psychopath Uncle Rubie, perpetually pregnant Aunt Roberta, and the gentle but violent in defeat Beal--as they raucously and desperately struggle through their impoverished lives. Reprint.

Robert R. Pyle Our sense of place and community is made up of memories—personal memories of first-hand experience; oral memories that recount our ancestors’ experiences; and f- mal, codified civic memories set down in laws, ceremonies, and rituals. Together they are vital building blocks of citizenship. In a vivid and meaningful way this book p- serves memories relevant to understanding the roots of communities on Mount Desert Island, Maine. The surnames of many of Mount Desert’s earliest settlers are still found in today’s telephone directories. In these families many oral traditions are passed down from generation to generation, building outward from a historical core like the rings of a tree. “Dad used to farm this field,” Fred L. Savage’s great-nephew Don Phillips told me once, gesturing toward an alder growth. “His father grew vegetables for the hotel, and my great-grandfather grew grains. This road used to go right on up over the hill, and they used it to move the cemetery up there from where the hotel is now. ” Describing the field, Don ignores the alders and the towering evergreens beyond them, for in his mind’s eye he sees yellow, waving wheat and rye, bare ground, and a narrow cart track leading up the hill into the distance, on which his ancestors tra- ported the remains of their own forebears to a new resting place. Oral traditions, living memory, set the stage for him, and he accepts the reality of things he has never seen.

The accidental death of his brother-in-law sends the commissaris to the secluded town of Jameson, Maine. De Gier goes along to see the United States. But there has been a sinister pattern of deaths in the area, and the two find themselves neck-deep in a murder investigation involving shady real estate deals, with a townful of suspects and the icy breath of a cold-blooded killer stalking their every move.

Three generations of women converge on the family beach house in this wickedly funny, emotionally resonant story of love and dysfunction.

Whenever Burt Dow, who lives in a snug little house on the Maine coast, sets out to sea, his pet giggling gull goes along. But this time, it will take all his might and some plain old ingenuity to save him and the gull from a raging storm.

Following on the popularity of the original Paintings of Maine, published in 1991, Carl Little has selected the artworks for this new collection of Maine paintings. Not a revised second edition, this all-new Paintings of Maine features more than 100 Maine paintings-none of which appeared in the earlier edition-by more than 100 artists. Featuring classic and contemporary works, this volume is a tribute to the state. Those who enjoyed the first edition will be thrilled by this new collection. Book jacket.

Lewiston, a mill town of about thirty-six thousand people, is the second-largest city in Maine. It is also home to some three thousand Somali refugees. After initially being resettled in larger cities elsewhere, Somalis began to arrive in Lewiston by the dozens, then the hundreds, after hearing stories of Maine’s attractions through family networks. Today, cross-cultural interactions are reshaping the identities of Somalis—and adding new chapters to the immigrant history of Maine. Somalis in Maine offers a kaleidoscope of voices that situate the story of Somalis’ migration to Lewiston within a larger cultural narrative. Combining academic analysis with refugees’ personal stories, this anthology includes reflections on leaving Somalia, the experiences of Somali youth in U.S. schools, the reasons for Somali secondary migration to Lewiston, the employment of many Lewiston Somalis at Maine icon L. L. Bean, and community dialogues with white Mainers. Somalis in Maine seeks to counter stereotypes of refugees as being socially dependent and unable to assimilate, to convey the richness and diversity of Somali culture, and to contribute to a greater understanding of the intertwined futures of Somalis and Americans.

Dickerson's lovingly crafted narratives take us to waters from sockeye spawning streams of Alaska's Lake Clark and Katmai National Parks, to Rocky Mountain rivers in the national parks and forests of Montana and Wyoming, to the little brook trout creeks in his home waters of Maine. Along the way we will fall in love with arctic streams, glacial rivers flowing green with flour, alpine brooks tumbling out of melting snow, and little estuaries where lobsters and brook trout swim within a few yards of each other; with wide deep lakes, little mountain tarns with crystal clear water, and tannin-laden beaver ponds the color of tea. The narratives are creative, personal, and compelling, yet informed by science and history as well as close observation and the eye of a naturalist. The characters in the stories are fascinating, from fly fishing guides to fisheries biologists to wranglers to Dickerson himself who often explores the rivers with a fly rod in hand, but whose writing transcends any sort of fishing narrative. But the most important characters are the rivers themselves whose stories Dickerson tells, and whose music he helps us to hear.