“I Wish I Could Give My Son a Wild Raccoon” ed. by Eliot Wigginton (review)

172 Western American Literature Firstly, the selections have been well chosen. Ranging from the earliest natives, the Gabrielinos, to present-day ecological and environmental con­ cerns, the included material is concise, contained and pointed in each instance. There is no fluff or padding. To make the 114 selections more meaningful, they have been grouped into appropriate categories under the umbrella of broad chronological or era headings. This is the warf of the book. Cogent and graceful commentaries preface each individual selection, which provides the text’s woof. The end result is a textured fabric that is highly personal: the anthology is Los Angeles as beheld by the Caugheys. It is an affectionate and compassionate view, socially aware and issue oriented. Although the book is rooted in historical writings, only 33 contributions are derived from original sources; the balance are all monographic or secondary. But that is no criticism, for the authors chosen for inclusion have established popular reputations or are trained historians. And one cannot fault the overall coverage. The expected subjects are touched upon: Spanish, Mexican and American early years, water, disasters, Sister Aimee, real estate booms, movies, war and peace, smog, the Dodgers, Watts, free­ ways, and the like. But what is surprising are some omissions. Religion, other than Sister Aimee, gets short shrift; so does “culture” in the finest sense of that word, other than a brief bow to the Music Center. City politics are also slighted; philanthropy ignored. A bit of prejudice (or should one say favoritism) is evident: UCLA is included to represent higher education. Poor USC, an older institution, founded in 1880, finds mention once by the compilers and once in a selection. Well, no anthology is perfect in all respects, but this one comes pretty close to being an exception. DOYCE B. NUNIS, Jr. University of Southern California “I Wish I Could Give My Son a Wild Raccoon.” Ed. Eliot Wigginton. (Garden City, New York: Anchor Books, Anchor Press/Doubleday, 1976. 366 pages, $4.95.) These are times when, I fear, most sensitive people throughout the country feel like repeating after Cicero, “O temporal O mores!” We have become a sophisticated society disillusioned by our government, cynical in the conclusion that those who lead us are corrupt. We note with regret that such words as honor, respect, loyalty, thrift, and diligence in honest work are quaint anachronisms no longer relevant in our vocabulary. We hear that faith in God is the idiosyncrasy of either the Jesus freaks or the simple folk who are “square” or “straight” or whatever next week’s geo­ Reviews 173 metric metaphor might be. And we are told that the way to happiness is through transcendental meditation or the narcissistic search for one’s self. How refreshing it is, therefore, to find in Eliot Wigginton’s latest book a goodly company of people who speak out from the heart and soul of America to remind us that good works still illuminate the dark passages of life; that faith in one’s God, trust in America, and reliance on one’s own resources through hard work lead to the kind of health and strength that true humanism is all about. None of the people in this book had time to meditate on the divinity of their own navels nor felt the need to consult a psychiatrist. They are the kind of Americans that our teen-agers should meet and learn from, people whose experience and wisdom are essential to an understanding of our culture and societal values. After his successful series of Foxfire books, Wigginton was asked by an educational group, RIF (Reading Is Fundamental), to prepare a Bicenten­ nial volume after the manner of Foxfire, not regional this time but drawing from all over America. “I Wish I Could Give My Son a Wild Raccoon,” then, is a garland of interviews collected by students and their teachers. These autobiographical sketches told in the true vernacular of the inform­ ants, thirty-nine in number, come from twenty states. Besides the Anglos, first and second generation Europeans, Chícanos, Blacks, and Native Americans are richly represented. Most of the informants are in their seventies, and as Wigginton notes the final range...