Other Non-Fiction Twain, Mark: Life on the Mississippi (Illustrated). v1. 8 July 2014

[GrannyGrump]

LIFE ON THE MISSISSIPPI (Illustrated)

by Mark Twain (Samuel Langhorne Clemens) [1835 – 1910]

First published in 1883.
The text of this book is in the public domain world-wide, because the author died more than 100 years ago. Illustrations and introductory material are in the public domain in countries where copyright is “Life+70” or less.

Mark Twain is most noted for his novels, The Adventures of Tom Sawyer (1876), and its sequel, Adventures of Huckleberry Finn (1885), the latter often called “the Great American Novel.” Some of his other works include Innocents Abroad, A Tramp Abroad, Roughing It, The Prince and the Pauper, and many others.

This is a memoir of Twain’s days as a steamboat pilot on the Mississippi River before the American Civil War, and also a travel book, recounting his visit to the river many years after the War. The book opens with a brief history of the river, beginning with its discovery by the Spanish explorer Hernando de Soto in 1542. Then we come to the heart and soul of the book – the story of Twain’s time as an apprentice steamboat pilot. He describes, with humor and affection, the art and science of navigating the ever-changing Mississippi River.

In the second part of the book, Twain narrates his return to the river two decades after his career as a river pilot was ended by the war – traveling by steamboat, south from St. Louis to New Orleans, and then north the entire length of the river. He describes the changes in the river and the shipping industry, the decline of some towns and cities, the prosperous growth of others, and adds his observations on greed, gullibility, tragedy, and bad architecture. There are tall tales to be found here, as well as a few “Old American Indian Legends,” some of them doubtless from the pen of the author himself.

—Some of the above adapted from Wikipedia.


Here is a taste to tickle your palate:

Spoiler:

When I went up to my room, I found there the young man called Rogers, crying. Rogers was not his name; neither was Jones, Brown, Dexter, Ferguson, Bascom, nor Thompson; but he answered to either of these that a body found handy in an emergency; or to any other name, in fact, if he perceived that you meant him. He said:

“What is a person to do here when he wants a drink of water? – drink this slush?”

“Can’t you drink it?”

“I could if I had some other water to wash it with.”

Here was a thing which had not changed; a score of years had not affected this water’s mulatto complexion in the least; a score of centuries would succeed no better, perhaps. It comes out of the turbulent, bank-caving Missouri, and every tumblerful of it holds nearly an acre of land in solution. I got this fact from the bishop of the diocese. If you will let your glass stand half an hour, you can separate the land from the water as easy as Genesis; and then you will find them both good: the one good to eat, the other good to drink. The land is very nourishing, the water is thoroughly wholesome. The one appeases hunger; the other, thirst. But the natives do not take them separately, but together, as nature mixed them. When they find an inch of mud in the bottom of a glass, they stir it up, and then take the draught as they would gruel. It is difficult for a stranger to get used to this batter, but once used to it he will prefer it to water. This is really the case. It is good for steamboating, and good to drink; but it is worthless for all other purposes, except baptizing.

And one Old Indian Legend which I simply have to share with you, because it happened just a few miles from where I grew up...

Spoiler:

“When you were talking of Maiden’s Rock, you spoke of the long-departed Winona, darling of Indian song and story. Is she the maiden of the rock? – and are the two connected by legend?”

“Yes, and a very tragic and painful one. Perhaps the most celebrated, as well as the most pathetic, of all the legends of the Mississippi.”

We asked him to tell it. He dropped out of his conversational vein and back into his lecture-gait without an effort, and rolled on as follows:

“A little distance above Lake City is a famous point known as Maiden’s Rock, which is not only a picturesque spot, but is full of romantic interest from the event which gave it its name, Not many years ago this locality was a favorite resort for the Sioux Indians on account of the fine fishing and hunting to be had there, and large numbers of them were always to be found in this locality. Among the families which used to resort here, was one belonging to the tribe of Wabasha. We-no-na (first-born) was the name of a maiden who had plighted her troth to a lover belonging to the same band. But her stern parents had promised her hand to another, a famous warrior, and insisted on her wedding him. The day was fixed by her parents, to her great grief. She appeared to accede to the proposal and accompany them to the rock, for the purpose of gathering flowers for the feast. On reaching the rock, We-no-na ran to its summit and standing on its edge upbraided her parents who were below, for their cruelty, and then singing a death-dirge, threw herself from the precipice and dashed them in pieces on the rock below.”

“Dashed who in pieces – her parents?”

“Yes.”

“Well, it certainly was a tragic business, as you say. And moreover, there is a startling kind of dramatic surprise about it which I was not looking for. It is a distinct improvement upon the threadbare form of Indian legend. There are fifty Lover’s Leaps along the Mississippi from whose summit disappointed Indian girls have jumped, but this is the only jump in the lot hat turned out in the right and satisfactory way. What became of Winona?”

“She was a good deal jarred up and jolted; but she got herself together and disappeared before the coroner reached the fatal spot; and ’tis said she sought and married her true love, and wandered with him to some distant clime, where she lived happy ever after, her gentle spirit mellowed and chastened by the romantic incident which had so early deprived her of the sweet guidance of a mother’s love and a father’s protecting arm, and thrown her, all unfriended, upon the cold charity of a censorious world.”

Wasn't that educational?

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Editing notes ---

Text is based on Gutenberg.org transcription of the 1893 first edition; proofed and corrected against the 1923 Definitive Edition, resulting in some spelling and punctuation revision, and restoration of some missing text fragments. I formatted punctuation, diacritics, and italics; added scene breaks; and cross-linked chapter-end-notes to source paragraphs; chapter heads to html table of contents. Embedded fonts for drop-caps, small-caps, and fleurons.

Included are all 316 illustrations from the first edition, including the “suppressed” depiction of Twain in flames (chapter 43), which was removed upon the objection of his wife -- subsequent printings of the first edition omit this image. Also includes the 5 illustrations from the 1899 “Uniform Edition.” Unfortunately I could not include the 12 images from the special illustrated "holiday edition" issued in 1927 -- the artist Walter Stewart lived until at least 1978.

Due to file-size, I split this into three volumes. The “DropCaps” version has illustrations in slightly larger resolution; all images are centered.

I promised this long ago, and finally finished. Any and all feedback most gratefully accepted -- please do let me know if you find errors or format glitches.

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[Greg Anos]

Thanks, GrannyGrump

[doubleshuffle]

Woohoo! Here it is!! Thank you so much!!!

[brauronios]

Splendid Work!

[GrannyGrump]

Bless you all. I hope you enjoy the read.

[Tired 'N Grumpy]

Beautiful work GrannyGrump. Thank you very much.
TnG