In his 1929 book The Problem of Dostoevsky's Poetics Mikhail Bakhtin focuses on Dostoevsky's practice of hiding his voice behind those of his characters. In Dostoevsky for the first time in Western Art, he tells us, the author builds full and robust points of view for characters who disagree with one another and even the author. After all, it is the vignette of the grand inquisitor which is the most famous and remembered part of The Brothers Karamazov -- but that's Ivan speaking there, the antipode of Dostoevsky's favorites (Alyosha and Zosima). And so on in other books.
Making my way towards the end of John McPhee's 1977 book about Alaska, Coming Into the Country, I am struck by how much the same thing could be said of McPhee. He spends tons of time in the wilds with hardcore libertarian gold miners and other back country survivalists who are very keen to share their opinions of matters various and sundry, first and foremost the American government and its lack of business in the wilds of Alaska. He is a faithful transcriber of long monologues of their disquisitions, without ever tipping his hand as to his opinion of what they say. In some sense I suppose one might say his is just a good journalist if the transition from dialogue (or monologue, as the case may be) to description and anecdote were not so sculpted.
In fact, one facet of McPhee's character's speeches is how implausibly verbatim they are. It's possible he might have taped people speaking, but highly unlikely, given that it was the 70s when he wrote this and often he is in a canoe or a loud truck or plane when the conversation is said to take place. At times the characters' rambling are so long and verbose as to be as implausible as the dialogues of Knausgaard. So that the characters in fact are voices in McPhee's chorus of types, but the author is as if away on vacation.
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