3 minute read
Lit Du Nord: Minnesota Books and Authors
from Mankato Magazine
By Nick Healy
Sweet story rooted in author’s painful past
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When author Gary Paulsen died in October, most obituaries included descriptions of his difficult childhood, during which his parents struggled with alcoholism and often shipped him off to live with relatives, some of whom were strangers to the child. Those early days shaped Paulsen in ways that would someday play out in the pages of his bestselling books.
Born in Minneapolis in 1939, the writer would later spend many years in this state, but while his father was away in World War II, his mother took him to Chicago, where she landed a factory job. At age 5, with his mother’s life spiraling, Paulsen was put on a train and sent to live on his aunt and uncle’s farm in northern Minnesota. His year there, ending when his mother showed up without warning and took him away, introduced him to wilderness and work and a way of life.
During his long career, Paulsen wrote scores of books, ranging from obscure westerns published under a pen name to “Hatchet,” a 1987 novel for young readers that won a Newbery Honor and became an enduring hit. Overall sales of Paulsen’s books exceed 35 million copies. Two of his other novels, “Dogsong” and “The Winter Room,” also received Newbery Honors.
As many readers know, “Hatchet” features a 13-year-old boy left alone in the remote Canadian wilderness after a plane crash. Other Paulsen bestsellers feature adventures in the wild and confrontations with some of nature’s dangers. But also among his many books is a little gem — “Harris and Me” — rooted in those early days on that northern farm, the days when he first glimpsed what life close to nature and close to the land could be like.
For a fast-moving and funny story, “Harris and Me” begins in a dark place. Here are the opening lines: “Meeting Harris would never have happened were it not for liberal quantities of Schlitz and Four Roses. For nearly all of my remembered childhood, there was an open bottle of Schlitz on the table.” But quickly our unnamed narrator, 11 years old when he is transported away from his troubled home, arrives at the farm where his second cousin, 9-year-old Harris, lives with an older sister and their parents. From there, the story is propelled by humor, youthful joy and misadventure.
In Harris, Paulsen creates an unforgettable character — a purehearted but smart-mouthed kid, the sort of boy who proceeds through life with an unearned yet unshakeable confidence, the sort of boy who thinks nothing could go wrong with his latest scheme, despite a track record that should convince him otherwise.
The cousins hit it off and have great fun together, and Harris, although he is younger than the narrator, calls the shots. One of their joint adventures begins when the family takes a rare trip into the tiny town nearby. Harris tells his cousin they might get to see a movie. Full of hope, Harris says, “Maybe it’ll be Gene.”
When the narrator asks what he means, Harris says, “Gene Artery, you dope. Didn’t you hear what I said? They’re going to have a movie show. There ain’t but three picture shows in the world and one of them is Gene Artery.”
The narrator asks, “You mean Gene Autry?”
Harris replies, “Right. He runs
“Harris and Me” by Gary Paulsen
around shooting things and he never misses. You ought to see it. He can shoot the gun clean out of somebody’s hand and never miss. Man, I hope it’s that Gene Artery picture show.”
The boys do, in fact, get to see a Gene Autry movie — one reel of it, anyway — and the experience gives Harris an exciting idea. They should, he decides, jump out of the hayloft onto the back of one of the family’s workhorses. The plan ends about as well as any devised by Harris.
In the book, the boys’ days together conclude abruptly, just as Paulsen’s peaceful reprieve at his aunt and uncle’s northern Minnesota farm did. In the fictional version, however, the narrator soon receives a letter that eases the pain of leaving. The message from Harris concludes, “Bye, you old gooner, and I hope you can come home soon.”