The Bear in the Attic

McManus also updates old hunting and fishing jokes - lying about the size of your fish; the ways in which the old, sage hunter gets the neophyte to do all the work under the guise of "teaching" him; and the neophyte's hunt for the mythical sasquatch. But the old pro is at his best when he is spinning long, elaborate yarns with sophisticated twists that require the reader to follow carefully and put two and two together to get five or six.

His title story, "The Bear in the Attic," starts out with the apparent kidnapping of a young girl. Turns out the kidnapper is her grandfather (the author, of course). To entertain her, granddad promises to tell her about a bear in an attic. He begins with the story of how McManus' cowardly cousin goes AWOL from the U.S. Army by hiding in his parents' attic. He does so in collusion with his mother, though his father never knows a thing until the FBI raids the place and takes the young man off to lockup.

But what does all this have to do with a bear? McManus' granddaughter asks. The storyteller then spins off into the sequel in which his uncle brings home a bear cub. McManus' aunt thinks the pup is cute and adopts it. The bear cub calls her "Mawmaw." Eventually, the animal is opening the refrigerator himself, downing whole bags of dog food at one sitting and occupying the uncle's favorite chair. Pretty soon, the bear isn't so cute, but when he wants to hibernate in the attic, Mawmaw doesn't have the heart to refuse him. Is this just a funny story involving wildlife or a metaphor for child-rearing?

The reader will have to draw his own conclusions. McManus doesn't supply any more clues. If you go far enough back in the tradition of storytelling, the skillful liar - like Ulysses - is also the greatest storyteller. McManus freely admits that he stretches the truth to get a good tale.

Hunters and fishers learn the art of creative lying. After all, admitting that you caught only a small fish or clean missed that deer is just a little too dreary. McManus takes the campfire hyperbole to new levels of magic, and the reader is always the winner.


Side-splittingly funny   February 3, 2003
 11 out of 12 found this review helpful

We've read with pleasure Patrick McManus' stories for more than twenty years and this may be his best collection, yet.

The story that supplies the book's title ranges through a veritable history of a small Idaho town affected by World War II before any of its content relates remotely to a bear or an attic. Some feel annoyance at such digressions; my view is that I choose to spend a bit of time in this story teller's company because he does not hurry, does not abridge any telling detail or elide a nanosecond's chuckle.

What is especially satisfying about this collection is its scope: a long, almost Homerian tale to begin the game; recollections of a youth well spent in snow caves and shooting; modern -- which is to say recent -- anecdotes involving recreational vehicles and psycho-palaver. Pat McManus, if he were a tenor, would have the range to sing all the voices of the Mikado, himself.

Many humorous essays do not invite the reader's return; a punchline lets the air out of the literary balloon. But I find myself picking up this book repeatedly because the writing makes me laugh. Each journey through an essay shines new light on an element of humor, of piquancy I had missed before. With Mr McManus, the joy really is in the journey, not in the destination (or punch line).