Jimmy Bluefeather

by Kim Heacox Narrated by Kaipo Schwab

Overview

Winner, National Outdoor Book Award

"Part quest, part rebirth, Heacox's debut novel spins a story of Alaska's Tlingit people and the land, an old man dying, and a young man learning to live."
-Kirkus Reviews (starred review)

"A splendid, unique gem of a novel."
--Library Journal (starred review)

"Heacox does a superb job of transcending his characters' unique geography to create a heartwarming, all-American story."
--Booklist

"What makes this story so appealing is the character Old Keb. He is as finely wrought and memorable as any character in contemporary literature and energizes the tale with a humor and warmth that will keep you reading well into the night."
--National Outdoor Book Awards

Old Keb Wisting is somewhere around ninety-five years old (he lost count awhile ago) and in constant pain and thinks he wants to die. He also thinks he thinks too much. Part Norwegian and part Tlingit Native ("with some Filipino and Portuguese thrown in"), he's the last living canoe carver in the village of Jinkaat, in Southeast Alaska.

When his grandson, James, a promising basketball player, ruins his leg in a logging accident and tells his grandpa that he has nothing left to live for, Old Keb comes alive and finishes his last canoe, with help from his grandson. Together (with a few friends and a crazy but likeable dog named Steve) they embark on a great canoe journey. Suddenly all of Old Keb's senses come into play, so clever and wise in how he reads the currents, tides, and storms. Nobody can find him. He and the others paddle deep into wild Alaska, but mostly into the human heart, in a story of adventure, love, and reconciliation. With its rogue's gallery of colorful, endearing, small-town characters, this book stands as a wonderful blend of Mark Twain's The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn and John Nichols's The Milagro Beanfield War, with dashes of John Steinbeck thrown in.

Editorial Reviews

From the Publisher

"A superb addition to Alaska—indeed, American—literature."
—Nancy Lord, former Alaska State Writer Laureate and author of Early Warming

"Kim Heacox’s love for the land and people of Southeast Alaska shines forth in this character-driven saga, brimming with craft, humor, and deft turn of phrase. Jimmy Bluefeather easily makes the short list for the great Alaska novel."
—Nick Jans, author of A Wolf Called Romeo

"A convergence of ocean, land, and spirit as only Kim Heacox can tell it, with wisdom, humor, and grace. A welcome new novel of relationships, forgiveness, and re-inventing oneself."
—Deb Vanasse, author of Roar of the Sea

"Heacox, a writer and explorer of renown, offers a genuine, funny and tender portrait that is rare in the literature of the 49th state."
—Andromeda Romano-Lax, author of Annie and the Wolves

"With humor, passion, and respect, Kim Heacox brings us a voyage of discovery like no other. . . You'll be torn between packing your bags for Crystal Bay and living more fully in your own storied place."
—Maria Mudd Ruth, author of Rare Bird

"The force that drives Jimmy Bluefeather is the figure of Old Keb Wisting, the last canoe carver in his Alaskan Indian village. Keb is a powerfully drawn portrait of an indomitable spirit facing down his own death—with fierce determination, blasting a Tlingit song into the cold wind blowing off the glaciers. This is not just a well-crafted picture of an elder; it is unforgettable, in the direct lineage of The Old Man and the Sea."
—Doug Peacock, author of Grizzly Years

"Every page glistens with authentic genius born from Kim Heacox’s wise and deep-rooted sense of place. . . The characters seem like people we’ve known; they ring true, and feel vivid."
—Carl Safina, author of Beyond Words: What Animals Think and Feel

"A masterful work of fiction. . . A book to be savored."
—Bob Osborne, Northern Passages

Praise for On Heaven's Hill:

"Heacox deftly weaves lyrical tributes to the healing power of nature with a fast-paced plot that builds to a heart-pounding conclusion." —Gwen Florio, author of Silent Hearts and the Lola Wicks series

“Kim Heacox is the bard of Alaska, drawing stories from the power and music of the land itself. His new book, On Heaven’s Hill, is truly a novel to match Alaska’s mountains.” —Kathleen Dean Moore, author of Earth’s Wild Music

“Few writers know Alaska’s wildlands and human landscapes like Kim Heacox. In this remarkable novel, humans and wild things circle each other until they collide in gripping and inspirational ways. Whether you seek stirring insights, entertaining prose, or both, On Heaven’s Hill will capture your days and dreams to the last page. This is Heacox’s finest work.” —Daniel Henry, Pushcart Prize winner and author of Across the Shaman’s River: John Muir, the Tlingit Stronghold, and the Opening of the North

“On Heaven’s Hill is the kind of story the planet needs right now.” —Kimi Eisele, author of The Lightest Object in the Universe

“A dazzling tale of a young girl, a desperate father, and a silver wolf caught in the middle of a battle between an Alaskan band of war veterans and corrupt land developers. Another compelling read from the author of Jimmy Bluefeather and The Only Kayak.” —Lynne M. Spreen, author of Dakota Blues and We Did This Once Before

Library Journal

★ 08/01/2015
At first glance, Heacox's (Caribou Crossing) new novel appears to be a predictable coming-of-age tale in which the title character overcomes his millennial ennui through the mystical ways of his wise Tlingit grandfather. That happens, but the depth and breadth of the story become perceptible only as the reader joins Jimmy in honoring his grandfather Keb's wish to face death on his own terms. The author immediately disposes of the simple generational clash in favor of a inspiring journey through nature and memory as Keb embraces life at its end. The landscape imagery in this splendid, unique gem of a novel transports the reader to Keb's Alaska, where nature's magnitude still has the romantic power to humble those who would let it, and then know themselves more completely in return. VERDICT Fans of Jon Krakauer's Into the Wild or Cheryl Strayed's Wild are bound to enjoy this book, as will readers interested in Native Americans or small-town, character-driven, family stories.—Nicole R. Steeves, Chicago P.L.

Kirkus Reviews

★ 2015-05-06
Part quest, part rebirth, Heacox's debut novel spins a story of Alaska's Tlingit people and the land, an old man dying, and a young man learning to live. In the town of Jinkaat, off Icy Strait near Crystal Bay, Old Keb Wisting, 95, all "big ears, small bladder, bad teeth" but diamond-clear in soul, wants to bring meaning to the life of his grandson James, "prisoner of angr" a deeply felt grief. Basketball wizard James ruined his knee in a logging accident, and Old Keb decides that the two of them will carve a cedar canoe. Canoe completed—christened Óoxjaa Yadéi, or Against the Wind—Keb, with James and two friends, begins a spirit journey to Crystal Bay, heartland of the Tlingit people. Heacox's characters resonate, each immersed in the Pacific Northwest's great watery woods. Old Keb, part Norwegian, part Tlingit, is the last of the Tlingit cedar carvers. There's also James' mother, Gracie, who "could bend [Keb] with a smile." Keb's "kittiwake daughter," Ruby, is a professor, all pride and passion. Little Mac, James' Chinese-Tlingit-Scots girlfriend, has a tiny body, towering intellect, and tremendous empathy. Large Marge, "a wide-hipped buxomed fisherwoman," captains the Silverbow with two deaf sons. Keb's dead uncle Austin speaks in dreams as Raven, the trickster. Add politicians, bureaucrats, media types, all circling, making demands, as Keb and the others set out for Crystal Bay, now a federal reserve and a place mired in conflict with the development interests of PacAlaska, a Native American corporation. It's Heacox's language, however, and his deep appreciation of the land, the sea, and the Tlingit, "a liquid people," that illuminate the story, one with an ending logical and unsentimental yet emotionally satisfying. Old Keb understands it "used to be hard to live and easy to die. Not anymore."

Product Details

BN ID:	2940175074353
Publisher:	Tantor Audio
Publication date:	09/13/2022
Edition description:	Unabridged

Read an Excerpt

The weight of air

USED TO BE it was hard to live and easy to die. Not anymore.

Nowadays it was the other way around. Old Keb shook his head as he shuffled down the forest trail, thinking that he thought too much.

“Oyye . . .” he muttered, his voice a moan from afar.

He prodded the rain-soaked earth with his alder walking cane. For a moment his own weathered hand caught his attention—the way his bones fitted to the wood, the wilderness between his fingers, the space where Bessie’s hand used to be.

Wet ferns brushed his pants in a familiar way. He turned his head to get his bearings, as only his one eye worked. The other was about as useful as a marble and not so pretty to look at. It had quit working long ago and sat there hitching a ride in his wrinkled face. The doctors had offered to patch it or plug it or toss it out the last time Old Keb was in Seattle, but he said no.

Someday it might start working again and he didn’t want to do all his seeing out of one side of his head. He was a man, for God’s sake, not a halibut.

A wind corkscrewed through the tall hemlocks. Old Keb stopped to listen but had problems here too. He could stand next to a hot chain saw and think it was an eggbeater. All his ears did now was collect dirt and wax and grow crooked hairs of such girth and length as to make people think they were the only vigorous parts of his anatomy. He always fell asleep with his glasses on, halfway down his nose. He said he could see his dreams better that way, the dreams of bears when he remembered—when his bones remembered—waking up in the winter of his life. Nobody knew how old he was. Not even Old Keb. He might have known once but couldn’t remember. Somewhere around ninety-five was his guess, a guess he didn’t share with any of his children, grandchildren, great grand-children, great-great grandchildren, or the legions of cousins, nephews, nieces, friends, and doctors, who figured he was close to one hundred and were on a holy crusade to keep him alive.

All his old friends were dead, the ones he’d grown up with and made stories with. He’d outlived them all. He’d outlived himself.

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