282 Western American Literature to forgive past stings, especially when so many wild species near extinction and what little remains of our wilderness need saving. Ironically, among the most lively and useful parts of this discursive selfstudy are Brower’s sketches of friends most important to him, photographer Ansel Adams, writer Loren Eiseley, and Supreme Court Justice William O. Douglas. In a way, this first volume ends in a cliff-hanger. Brower has brought us up to 1989 and told us somany cheery anecdotes about his conservation cronies that we wonder what’s left for volume two. Unless it’s all the things he didn’t say about himself in volume one. PETER WILD The University of Arizona No Woman Tenderfoot: Florence Merriam Bailey, Pioneer Naturalist. By Harriet Kofalk. (College Station: Texas A&M University Press, 1989. 225 pages, $19.95.) Few people today are familiar with the name of Florence Merriam Bailey, but in the early years of the century this “well bred” Victorian woman was widely known as a field ornithologist, nature writer and conservationist who traveled extensively throughout the western U.S. studying and describing the habits and behaviors of birds in their natural environments. The results of her studies, presented in numerous scientific and popular publications, not only furthered our understanding of North American birds and promoted sympathy for their plight, but helped make birdwatching a legitimate and accessible activity for women and children. In what she describes as a non-critical biog raphy, Harriet Kofalk chronicles the life of this “earnest doer,” as she calls her and discovers, “a role model for values that are as important today as they were then.” Kofalk draws from a wealth of primary source materials in developing her portrait of Florence Merriam Bailey, including Florence’s extensive fieldnotes and 60-year correspondence with her brother and lifelong mentor, C. Hart Merriam, the first chief of the U.S. Biological Survey. Asserting that Florence “speaks loudly to that need we have today to see things whole,” Kofalk quotes heavily from Florence’sten books and over 100 articles—all of which are listed in a bibliography at the back of the book. In her thorough effort to broaden and enliven her biography, the author interviewed Florence’ssurviving friends and relatives, gathering their impressions and stories, and assembled an impressive collection of over 60 photographs and illustrations. A free-lance writer and birdwatcher herself, Kofalk identifies closely with the approach, goals and philosophy of her subject—a circumstance that con tributes to both the major strength and weakness of the book. Having visited or lived in many of the places where Florence' conducted her field studies, Reviews 283 Kofalk is able to more empathetically interpret the challenges and rewards that Florence experienced. Unfortunately, this close association often leads to novelizing in which the author presumes to read the mind of her subject. Coupled with scant reference to sources this tendency to fictionalize distracts the reader from this otherwise informative and flowing narrative about a woman who, as Kofalk says, “shows us the way to teach more people to love the living planet.” NANCY J. WARNER California Valley, California Self-Portrait: Ceaselessly Into the Past. By Ross Macdonald. Foreword by EudoraWelty. (Santa Barbara: Capra Press, 1981. iv + 129 pages, $15.00.) The late Ross Macdonald, as the Spring 1986 issue of South Dakota Review, devoted entirely to his work, evidences, is perhaps the only writer of detective fiction to date whose novels had gained some measure of acceptance —by reviewers, critics, and academics—as serious contemporary fiction, and not just as fine genre work. In this respect, Macdonald has built, and built proudly, on the solid foundation provided for him by Dashiell Hammett and Raymond Chandler (who have never gained total academic respectability), and he has provided a daunting example for later crime writers to follow. This collection of essays is, thus, of singular importance to Macdonald’s readers, be they scholars, mystery fans, or fiction writers themselves. In several ways this collection reminds one of Wallace Stegner’s The Sound of Mountain Water. That book, too, contains ecologically activist essays, theoretical essays (though on western, not detective, fiction), and autobio graphical essays (though Stegner...