I recently finished re-reading "Deliverance" by James Dickey. I had initially read the 1970 first novel by the acclaimed poet in 1971, after buying (for $1.25) a paperback copy. That paperback had followed me all the way through about 10 moves, always finding its way to a treasured spot on a bookshelf. It was always a book I'd read again. Someday.
Having re-read the novel (and having caught a brief glimpse of the movie starring Burt Reynolds and Jon Voight on television recently), I found my initial opinion of Dickey's novel confirmed. It's a great book, and, perhaps more important, a frightening book. It's been described as a Boy Scout outing turned into a nightmare. Four aging buddies decide to put aside their comfortable suburban existence and take a canoe trip down a wild river that soon will be dammed and no longer wild. Confronted along the riverbank by evil men, the suburbanites become killers, their animal instincts for survival overwhelming their veneer of civilized behavior. Dickey's message seems to be, scratch a civilized, modern man, and you'll find a ruthless beast just beneath the skin. It's a story about what we're capable of, and the answer to that is scary.
The book is so disturbing that my wife, upon initially reading it more than 30 years ago, found herself unable to read passages while in a room alone. She needed the comfort and reassurance of other people, of loved ones, in the room with her. That feeling of being there is a testimony to Dickey's imagery and description. His collection of "Poems, 1957-1967" is one of my favorite volumes, and I've re-read some of the poems, such as "Kudzu" and "The Bee" again and again.
"Deliverance" proves to me that good books are worth the investment. They are more than bookshelf decorations that add warmth and comfort to a room. They are lasting resources that can thrill and reassure and enlighten us years and years after purchase.
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