Best Tales Yukon

by Robert W. Service

Book Overview

In 1904, the Canadian Bank of Commerce transferred teller Robert W. Service to the Yukon Territory. Soon, he was famous as the poet who chronicled the Klondike gold rush and the savage beauty of the frozen north. His tales of hard-bitten propectors and sourdoughs in "The Land God Forgot" make vivid, exciting reading. Here are all the brawling, colorful characters that Service immortalized, including One-Eyed Mike, Dangerous Dan McGrew, Pious Pete,...

• Format: Paperback
• Language: English
• ISBN: 0762414596
• ISBN13: 9780762414598
• Release Date: January 2003
• Publisher: Running Press Adult
• Length: 160 Pages
• Weight: 0.55 lbs.
• Dimensions: 0.5" x 6.1" x 9.2"

Customer Reviews

GRANDFATHER OF THE COWBOY POETS

Robert Service, if anyone, could be called "the grandfather of cowboy poets." This has been a popular genre over the past few years and much of the work done by these wonderful men and women can be traced back to Service's poems and style. Being called the "Bard of the Yukon" is certainly true, but sells this particular writer short. His works include so much more that just the delightful poems of the Canadian Territory. Simply written, with a story, they are quite a delight for both old and young alike. I recent years, some of our elitist in our academic world have been less than kind to this poet. This is all well and good with me. They simply don't get it. Service's work will quite likely endure far longer than some of the ranting I read in the professional journals. I read these poems to young folks in my classes, and they seldom fail to delight and indeed, inspire. It is difficult to go wrong with this one. Highly recommend.

Cremation of Sam McGee

Went to Alaska and heard the poem, had to own it.

"There are strange things done in the midnight sun..."

Robert William Service (1874-1958), the son of a Scottish banker father and English mother, moved to Canada in 1896 at the age of twenty-two. After a failed attempt at farming and several years of drifting, he got a job with the Canadian Bank of Commerce in the Whitehorse, Yukon Territory in 1904, and was later transferred to Dawson. During his time in Canada, Service wrote numerous poems about life in the north. Though the Klondike Gold Rush had been mostly over by 1898, tales of it still abounded and from these he drew much of his inspiration. His first book of poetry, "The Spell of the Yukon and Other Verses," was published in 1907 (printed under the title "Songs of a Sourdough" in London), and was followed in 1909 with "Ballads of a Cheechako." In 1912 Service left Canada to take a job as war correspondent in the Balkans. He continued to write poetry, but moved on to other subject matter and did not return to Canada. Eventually Service ended up in France, where he married and resided until his death. An Alaskan by birth, I grew up on Robert Service's poetry. My father read selections to me at bedtime when I was little, and I was fortunate enough to hear some professional dramatic readings of Service's work as well (if you're ever lucky enough to get such an opportunity, don't pass it up!). His poems perfectly capture life in the frozen north. His imagery is so vivid that you can see the rugged beauty of the wilderness in your mind's eye as you read. You can feel the biting cold of winters, too: "You know what it's like in the Yukon wild when it's sixty-nine below; When the iceworms wriggle their purple heads through the crust of the pale blue snow; When the pine trees crack like little guns in the silence of the wood; And the icicles hang down like tusks under the parka hood" (pg. 131, from "The Ballad of Blasphemous Bill"). Someone who's never been very far north can't fully imagine what it's like, but Service's words will get you as close as is possible, short of an actual trip. Service's work also encapsulates the spirit of the men who roamed the Yukon during the Gold Rush era. The wanderlust, the loneliness, the foolish enthusiasm, the futility, the madness and the insanity - it's all there. You'll feel "half dazed, half crazed" yourself as you read some of these pieces. It's like a window into the past, into another time and place. And what makes Service's work even greater is his magnificent wit. The poems are full of dark, morbid humor, and laced with irony. "The Ballad of Hard-Luck Henry" (pg. 112) is a great example. This particular book, "Best Tales of the Yukon," is a combination of poems from Service's first two books, "The Spell of the Yukon" and "Ballads of a Cheechako." It consists entirely of pieces written during his Canadian period, and the editors have arranged them so as to provide a "chronological saga of the Gold Rush" (pg. ix). They've done a magnificent job, beginning with "The Men That Don't Fit In" (pg. 14) and cl

A deep and inqusitive piece of literature.

I loved this book and encourage others to read it. This book can chill your soul and at the same time make you feel warm inside. From the Cremation of Sam McGee to the Shooting of Dan McGrew, Mr. Service had me admiring his work especially after I read 'Grin' which adopts a good perspective of life. Excellent!

Poems/ballads about the Yukon people.Sad,witty & funny.Bravo!

(1986)I'm stuck in Sinop,Turkey. At the radar station we are bored 'cause it's winter and right now nothing is going on when suddenly a voice from behind me starts what sounds at first like a lethany but evolves into a ballad. No music,just a voice, and it's telling a story... "There's a race of men that don't fit in, A race that can't stay still; So they break the hearts of kith and kin, And they roam the world at will. They range the field and they rove the flood, And they climb the mountain's crest. Theirs is the curse of the gypsy blood, And they don't know how to rest." You'll find more stories: of love, revenge, perseverance and faith. For the near winter season, nothing beats this collection. Nice for reading aloud by a fire or if unavailable, in a room with the TV off. You don't need to be a proffesional story teller. The prose will take care of everything...