Deliverance (Modern Library 100 Best Novels)

This is another rare exception to the rule that books are almost always better than their movie counterparts. The book gets far too bogged down with detail for my taste. The story, of course, is solid and dramatic, as well as disturbing. It certainly doesn't make one want to take a canoe trip in the backwoods any time soon.

The book was very descriptive, and thats nice...if you are looking for pages and pages of descriptions. Most of the detail is beautiful and poetic in its own sense, but a little bit of it here and there just ads to the boredom of the slowly creeping by storyline. I did enjoy the book, and almost gave it four stars because the ending was done so well, but in order to get to the ending, you have to slowly traverse the novel as the characters do their river. Recommended for those seeking an adventure novel dealing with man's inner demons and ability to conquer ones' fears. Its not action packed or fast paced, but it is a well written story with deep undertones.

The book is almost exactly like the movie. The movie seemed to go along with the book. Like the film, the book seemed to go at a predictable pace. I received it as a gift. Since I enjoyed the movie, I appreciated reading the book.
Overall, if you're a fan of the film, Deliverance, there is no reason you shouldn't enjoy this book.

Book was a decent read. The only issue was constant underlined words like it was done for a research analysis. Beware sometimes books will still have stuff up with them even though it says "no writing inside".

I have never seen the movie, and purchased the book out of curiosity. I couldn't finish this. I forced myself to read about half of it before giving up. I found the writing dense, boring and it just would not hold my interest. Too much intricate prose written about river currents, tree branches and underbrush. I struggled mightily to like this book, but couldn't warm to it. It bored me to distraction.

Some few good scenes, but mostly not. A good "story," but sloppy writing, and a lack of attention to what was going on, totally destroyed any suspension of disbelief created: like, one of the rapists is naked from the waist down; but when he's suddenly dead, his state of undress is never mentioned again although he's carted into a canoe, and over half the forest to find a place to bury him and his shotgun. With or without his britches we never learn. And tying ropes to "a rock," to weigh down a body is ridiculous; as is a scene in which another body, weighted with rocks (by tying them on with ropes!), is laboriously tossed and shoved, over the side of and out of a canoe, in a rapidly flowing river, without the canoe tipping over, by men who are otherwise completely incompetent in a canoe. Whew! It was a slog.

I was skeptical about reading Deliverance, owing largely to the famously disturbing scene from the film. It's on a list that I'm intent on reading, though, and so I decided to tackle it. I'm glad I did.

The premise is well-known. Four men from the city decide to canoe down a wild river that is soon to be dammed up. On their way, they encounter a couple of hillbillies who are intent on murder, and worse. The four men end up in a fight for survival against this evil they've encountered, against the river for which they are unprepared, and against the modern comforts of modern life that have tamed them.

There is so much to appreciate about the novel, and I think it gives fodder to keep on and keep on thinking about. As many note, much of the novels power lays in its descriptive power, both of the natural and the psychological world. The novel is truly well-written, and it's especially impressive that the descriptions of the book are in no way gratuitous (as is too often the case in literary fiction) but are both beautiful and fully interworked into the action of the novel.

The novel also just holds a tremendous narrative power. It's no wonder that Deliverance was turned into such a successful film, because Dickey did not ignore plotting. The action of the novel is very intense and keeps getting more intense, so that I read through the second half of the book just about as quickly as I could to see how it ended. It's all too rare to read a serious novel that is also a fantastic thriller.

Finally, Deliverance gives a lot to think about...about the changing shape of manhood, about the angst experienced by adults who live with little adventure and meaning in their lives, about the powerful undercurrents of violence that run both in nature and in the human psyche. It's well worth multiple reads.

Deliverance
de·liv·er·ance [dih-liv-er-uhns]
noun
: the state of being saved from something dangerous or unpleasant

Deliverance is the deceptively simplistic story of four ordinary men from Atlanta that decide to go on a canoe trip in the Georgia wilderness. The river they plan to traverse is destined to disappear soon because of a new dam that will flood the area. Soon into their trip, they encounter two men who live in the nearby mountains and their weekend wilderness adventure quickly morphs into a struggle for their very survival.

‘The river was blank and mindless with beauty. It was the most glorious thing I have ever seen. But it was not seeing, really. For once it was not just seeing. It was beholding. I beheld the river in its icy pit of brightness, in its far-below sound and indifference, in its large coil and tiny points and flashes of the moon, in its long sinuous form, in its uncomprehending consequence.’

Unlike most who have either read this book or experienced the movie, I went into this story completely blind, oblivious of the horrors to come. Being a fan of southern gothic fiction though, it was essential I read the original classic that helped to generate the genre. Published in 1970, Deliverance was Dickey’s first novel and the one he went on to be most known for. In 1965, he won the National Book Award in Poetry and those poetic abilities shown through the darkness of Deliverance. The surprisingly beautiful poetic quality added a much needed delicacy to this tale so as to make it a much more agreeable read.

“Here we go, out of the sleep of the mild people, into the wild rippling water.”

The river itself, the Cahulawassee River, has much more symbolism than one would initially recognize. The Cahulawassee River is being forced into modern times and will cease to exist in a matter of weeks. These four men are forced into changes as well due to the harsh situations they are involuntary put through. It changes their mindset and state of being and forces them to make choices they never expected to have to make. These changes necessitated the realization that while they felt like ordinary men in comparison to the abominations that they faced, they were more than able to transform similarly all in the name of survival.

Deliverance is a dark and dismal read but is permeated with skillfully beautiful writing that makes it a completely necessary read for any fans of the genre.

NOTICE: This review discloses plot developments that should be no surprise to anyone who has seen the film version, which I'm assuming is more than have read the novel. Even if they haven't actually seen it, they know many of these from hearing about it.

'Deliverance' is essentially a fish-out-of-water test case in which four men, each at a different point in the standard spectrum of masculinity, are placed in an alien environment and tested against Nature, in the form of a raging river, soon to be engulfed by a dam. They know to expect it to be a rocky ride full of rapids. The wild card, of course, is the unexpected human encounters that test each of them far beyond the neutral elements. It could be scripted a couple of decades later as a 'Survivor' style 'reality' show but this reality show is far more frightening and far less controlled.

The four men, all city men based in the Atlanta area, include at the most macho extreme Lewis Meadlock, a landlord who is a survivalist outdoorsman who hatches the crazy scheme to take a canoe trip down the Cahulawassee River in northern Georgia, while they still have a chance before the land surrounding it is dug up in order to allow a giant dam to flood the entire area; Ed Gentry, a graphic artist for an advertising firm, who considers Lewis to be his best friend and who always lets Lewis talk him into some physically challenging and often foolhardy activities; Drew Ballinger, a soft drink salesman, a mild-mannered family man who also would never initiate a risky outdoor adventure on his own but would go along with a plan if instigated by a powerful personality such as Lewis; Bobby Trippe, a pudgy, persuasive insurance salesman, definitely not an outdoorsman. Why he gives up the comforts of his life for a weekend to participate in some so out of his comfort zone is never sufficiently explained. Nevertheless, he is there and he whines and complains almost every step along the way.

Portents of a less than welcome reception by the locals are signaled in their first encounters with locals, in the persons of the Griners, the men Lewis has hired to drive their two cars from Oree, their origin, to Aintree, their destination at the bottom of the river. Their attitude is skeptical and they miss no opportunity to mock the 'city boys' with the implicit message, 'Boys are you in for some surprises'. Lewis and therefore Ed, Drew and Bobby disregard them as somewhat dim, probably inbred local yokels.

The other three all depend on Lewis' expertise to guide them through this adventure. None of them feel like they could survive the ordeal without him to guide them to their destination. Proof of this appears soon enough on the Saturday morning after the Friday evening of their arrival. Ed and Bobby have paired up because Bobby could not take Lewis's loss of patience with Bobby's lack of experience and whining attitude. They shoot ahead of Lewis and Drew in the second canoe and pull into shore with the intent to wait until they catch up and rejoin them. What follows is the savage encounter that will irrevocably change their lives and in particular the resulting events of the immediate future of the river trip. Lewis saves Ed, although he is a bit too late to save Bobby from his violation by sending an arrow straight through the back of the rapist. Ed wrestles with the other man, who runs off after he sees what has happened to his cohort. Drew, the establishment man, wants to deal with the harsh injustice of the natives of the Wild by imposing the justice of the American legal system, pleading that it's a case of simple self-defense. His suggestion is outvoted by the other three and he grows more distraught after they bury the man and proceed down the river.

Each of the four men learns a customized lesson from their river trip. Lewis, the most adept at navigating the wilds of Nature, is buffeted about and humbled by breaking his leg in the rapids. Bobby, the soft city boy, is given the violent, 'no trespassing' warning of the rape, a trespass on his own physical body and psyche. Drew, the lone dissenter, is quickly dispatched by the surviving assailant by a shot from the cliffs above. Ed, the Everyman, becomes the default survivalist leader in lieu of Lewis's incapacitation. He must take action and lead the surviving members of the party out of the dangerous region and ensure that they can return to their society.

Since Ed is the narrator, his is the only mind we get inside so we don't know how the other three have been changed by this event that transforms them from victims to killers and accomplices. He has admired Lewis's physical perfection and his toned body and has harbored perhaps a homoerotic fascination with him. After the assault he doesn't have time for much introspection. He throws himself into an improvised strategy for survival, which entails finding the other man before he has a chance to pick off any of the others, which he is likely to do as long as they stay in the canoe on the river in plain view.

Ed's initiation into a real survivalist, not just one who prepares for future adversity but one who must act in the moment while the challenge is staring him in the face, is manifested in his climb up a steep cliff in the dark of night, armed with a bow, two arrows, one bent, and a knife. Although he has described himself as not particularly toned, a bit flabby and definitely not the physical specimen that Lewis is, he proves surprisingly adept at propelling himself to the top, driven by the simple animal instinct to continue. He realizes that there's no way to go back down without falling to his death. This is a one-way journey that must be followed to the end. As he grows more familiar with the shapes of the rocks his skill increases, has no choice but to increase. With this vantage point he also acquires a fresh appreciation for the beauty of his surroundings:
'What a view. What a view. But I had my eyes closed. The river was running in my mind, and I raised my lids and saw exactly what had been the image of my thought. For a second I did not know what I was seeing and what I was imagining; there was such an utter sameness that it didn't matter; both were the river. It spread there eternally, the moon so huge on it that it hurt my eyes, and the mind, too, flinched like an eye. What? I said. Where? There was nowhere but here.'

I can't neglect to mention the film version of this novel as most of us have probably seen the film than read the novel. In most cases, a film version is inferior to its source material. In this case, however, I think it might surpass it. While one might wonder more about these characters' lives before they embarked on their river journey, the extra introduction to their lives, in particular Ed's graphic job, doesn't really add much depth to the story. In fact, I felt less engaged and interested in his attraction to a model and his ambivalence about his job than I did the river journey. I grew impatient to get the characters to the river so the real story could begin. Likewise, the aftermath is longer and more protracted in the novel whereas the brevity of the film's final images render it more powerful than the diluted final passages of the novel. Nevertheless, the movie wouldn't exist without Dickey's literary creation and it is a gut punch of an adventure tale and a perfect illustration of a man being thrust into a life-or-death situation that tests his mettle.

The 'deliverance' from this evil for these men is just as messy and clumsy and 'fly by the seat of their pants' as their entry into the valley of the shadow of Death. It is unlikely that any of them, even Lewis, will ever attempt anything this foolish again. Nevertheless, Ed accomplishes what he set out to do and three of them do make it to the bottom of the river and even find the two cars that the Griners drove down to their destination. Afterward, Ed's and Lewis' friendship continues and Lewis, although he has a constant limp, pursues his archery and they both practice with aluminum arrows rather than broadhead and only for target practice, never for hunting. Each of them is left with private haunts of a lifetime that they can't share with anyone else and don't feel the need or desire to share even between themselves. They have contended with the nature of the river and its inhabitants as well as the nature of themselves and know more than they ever expected to know about both.

The story in Deliverance is well known, so I will leave that to the other reviews here. I was planning a rim to rim hike of the Grand Canyon when I picked up James Dickey's Deliverance. The book had been in the back of my head since seeing the excellent film and since reading Pat Conroy's high praise of Dickey's writing in his book My Reading Life.

Dickey's southern prose is transcendent, flowing like poetry through the minds, words, and actions of his well-drawn characters. As a suburban Atlanta man approaching middle age, I identified with the characters in the novel and the need to get out occasionally and live some real adventure. Preparing for my Grand Canyon hike was the perfect staging ground for reading and appreciating Dickey's trip into the dark side of adventure and men's souls.

I live not far from the setting of Deliverance, and have hiked and rafted the area described in the book. One problem I have with the story is that Dickey paints the locals with a very broad brush, making vast generalizations about the "backwoods people" who terrorize the canoe trip shot in the film on the beautiful Cahttooga River and in Tallulah Gorge. Having spent a good portion of my life in North Georgia and West Virginia, I have spent considerable time with "country" and "mountain" folks, and have found them to be warm, generous, and overall terrific people. I understand that Dickey is using the locals in the book as a backdrop against which his narrative of the nature of man plays out, but it is a shame that the good people of North Georgia have to take the fall here. Their reputation is still struggling to recover now, decades after Deliverance's publication.

Hiking through the Grand Canyon about a week after finishing Deliverance I kept thinking about how things went wrong in the book. Often a trip goes bad not when one big disaster happens, but when several little things go wrong. Were all four main characters prepared for a big outdoor adventure? No, but this one thing can be overcome. Did they know the river? No, but with an experienced guide or map this one thing can be overcome. Did they have a guide or an accurate map? No, but if they stay healthy they will probably be ok. Did they stay healthy? No - canoes overturn and bones are broken, but with the help of the locals they should make it out OK. Do they have the help of the locals? Famously, no. Any one of these smaller things happening could be overcome, but each small thing added together combine to create one giant nightmare of a trip, just as on a real outdoor trip. Suddenly, after a great beginning, the four suburbanites in Deliverance are tested in ways they thought no longer possible in their soft middle-age existence. This book is a harsh reminder that the basic and the primal may be pushed away and forgotten in modern society, but they are always there lurking, never far from the surface.

Back on the trail in the Grand Canyon. We run out of electrolyte powder on the way out, but kind strangers give us half of theirs (help from the locals?). It goes dark 3 hours from the top on treacherous trails and the batteries in my companion's headlamp go dead. Luckily I have a spare set (prepared). We stumble mere feet from a 500 foot sheer drop but catch ourselves before going over (stay healthy). If they had turned out differently, any one of these small things could have lead to a very different end to our hike.

The book builds to a compelling scene where Ed climbs the gorge wall in the middle of the night and lays in wait for the man who killed his friend on the river. We are in Ed's head the entire way, looking for hand holds in the rock, focusing with laser like intensity on the single purpose of reaching the top and killing a man. Dickey's poetic language helps us see how and why the otherwise peaceful Ed is turned into a killer himself, and the effect is absolutely chilling.

Deliverance reminded me how very fine the line is between triumph and tragedy. It is a terrific book, very suspenseful, and reads quickly. I would recommend it to anyone interested in outdoor adventure, the importance of being prepared, and in the fragile nature of man in modern society. Deliverance is a true classic. Highly recommended.

On its surface, Deliverance is a tale of survival, with four men from the city going out into the Georgia wilderness and running into the uncivilized part of Man. To just see the book from this point of view might be selling it short, though. In another sense, the novel investigates the element of transformation and emergence into someone else. There are various rebirths that come from a terrorizing experience.

Dickey turns the notion of "escaping into the peace and serenity of Nature" on its head. Deliverance is as far from Thoreau's Walden as one can fathom. Nature here is the unknown, the barbaric, the lawless. While the city has rules and structure, two of the men, Lewis and Ed, are bored with its limitations and predictability. Lewis' plan to head out and take the trip to the Georgia wilderness seems the perfect remedy for "breaking the pattern" of life's monotony. However, there are plenty of warnings and hints that they may not be prepared for this quest into unfamiliar territory. After a brutal encounter with a few degenerate locals , the four men are left scrambling to fight for their lives and make sense of a situation without laws or rules.

What I enjoyed about this book was how its different elements blend together. The poetic description of the Cahulawassee River is sharply contrasted with the brutality of the situation and the men's fight for life. Deliverance is a book that explores Nature vs. city, the laws of survival, and it has plenty of gripping and tense moments. It is also a story that examines the philosophy and psychology into Man's survival instincts and psyche.

This is a case where the film is much more popular than the book, as some of the most famous quotes and moments are recalled not from book, but from the 1972 film with Jon Voight and Burt Reynolds. Still, I think the book holds up well, and is as profound as it is suspenseful.

Four friends decide on an adventure together – a weekend canoe trip in a remote area of Georgia. As the trip begins, their adventurousness and their awe at their surroundings and their mastery of their outdoor skills as their skills are tested is elating. These men are city dwellers, after all, and the great outdoors is the great unknown. Only one of the four boasts knowledge and experience, and he is the one to organize the excursion and encourage the others.

Euphoria turns to horror when two men of the four are confronted in the wilderness by two gruesome backwoods armed brutes. The gentlemen are brutalized, sodomized, and terrified. Fear is their guide. How each of the four reacts and responds, together and individually, will affect the rest of their lives.

They argue and agonize, plan and prepare, anticipate and react, over how to deal with what they have experienced. The harrowing weekend comes to an end. Three men return to city life. They were tested, and their lives are changed forever.

Would you listen to Deliverance again? Why?

Yes, this is one of those performances that you could listen to any time you wanted. The prose is beautiful and Will Patton's accents and cadence are perfect.

Did the plot keep you on the edge of your seat? How?

Yes, I saw the movie years ago, but wasn't sure of the ending. This ending was exacting and though provoking and to think this was a first novel!

What about Will Patton’s performance did you like?

He is a master of the speech patterns of the deep south. The lazy drawls, the unique wording and the wonderful descriptions that encompass James Dickey's book.

If you were to make a film of this book, what would be the tag line be?

It was a classic movie in 1972. If made today I would say, "Survival is all that matters."

Any additional comments?

The beautiful imagery of this book is truly captured in Mr. Patton's voice. "I was leaving the land of the nine-fingered people to return to the home of the Whopper."

“I was standing in the most absolute aloneness that I had ever been given.”

This book was told in the first person. You know exactly what Ed is thinking every moment of the story, that is something that is missing from the movie but what makes it perfect for an audiobook.

I can't recommend this book enough. Don't miss it!

"Deliverance" has always had a strong pull on my psyche, thought this comes mainly from the movie. The film came out when I was 11, and I went to camp that summer in Tallulah Gorge where they filmed the cliff-climbing / bow-and-arrow climax. The crew had to buy so many identical green wooden canoes to film the whitewater scenes, and I paddled many times in one of these, bought at auction by my next door neighbors after filming wrapped.

I saw the the kosher version (i.e., no squealing pigs) on network TV countless times as a kid, and when I was older I rafted all the sections of the Chattooga used in the movie and even ate at the Cookie Jar Cafe where one of the Banjo Boy actor from the film worked.

The author, James Dickey grew up around the corner from my house and went to the same school as my mother. I went to Vanderbilt , James Dickey's alma mater, and like him was also an English major. A First Edition of Deliverance has sat on my shelf for the last 20 years or so, and yet. . . for some reason inexplicable reason, I'd never actually read the book.

But last weekend I was again up in the mountains near the Chattooga River, though this time with a car-load of kids, and I thought it was about time. I spent the weekend reading it on the riverside and in front of a fire while the kids read the ubiquitous "Hunger Games." After reading it think I'm glad I waited until I was a middle-aged suburban business man like the narrator. In youth, like most boys, I was the Lewis character (played by Burt Reynolds in the film) but as we move into adulthood and fatherhood, most of us change into the Ed character (though hopefully not the Bobby/Ned Beatty character.) We stop charging at the world and nature like Lewis, and without knowing it start "sliding" (to use Ed / Dickey's expression in the quote below.) And it is from this section of dialogue quoted below between Lewis and Ed the night before they head up to the river that lays out two opposing forces at work, and I think the main theme of this great novel:

"Funny thing about up yonder," Lewis said. "The whole thing's different. I mean the whole way of taking life and the terms you take it on. . . The trouble is," he said, "that you not only don't know anything about it, you don't want to know anything about it."

"But do you know something, Lewis? If those people in the hills, the ones with the folk songs and dulcimers, came out of the hills and led us all toward a new heaven and a new earth, it would not make a particle of difference to me. I am a get-through-the-day man. I don't think I was ever anything else. I am not a great art director. I am not a great archer. I am mainly interested in sliding. Do you know what sliding is? . . . Sliding is living anti-friction. Or, no, sliding is living by anti-friction. It is finding a modest thing you can do, and then greasing that thing. On both sides. It is grooving with comfort. . . I know better than to fool with [madness]. . . . What you do is go on by it. What you do is get done what you ought to be doing. And what you do rarely -- and I mean rarely -- is to flirt with it."

"We'll see," Lewis said, . . . You've had all that office furniture in front of you, desks and bookcases and filing cabinets and the rest. You've been sitting in a chair that won't move. You've been steady. But when that river is under you, all that is going to change. There's nothing you do as vice-president of Emerson-Gentry that's going to make any difference at all, when the water starts to foam up. Then, it's not going to be what your title says you do, but what you end up doing. You know: doing."

At the height of the Vietnam War, social tensions in the United States seemed to be at a fever that had hardly been replicated in any other time in the twentieth century. James Dickey had completed his own military service in Korea and World War II, and between balancing his writing amid teaching postsecondary writing courses and working for private advertising agencies, his poetry managed to catapult him into the position of U.S. Poet Laureate after the publication of his first collection. The genesis of his first novel Deliverance arose from a strictly American whirlwind of the frustrations built up during this era, from the stir-crazy mundanity of middle-class existence to the sheer disparity between those living in wartime suburban sprawl and those in rural areas. With these anxieties in mind, Dickey's Deliverance manages to evoke a sheer irrational violence madly humming beneath the veneer of a safe middle-class life, and he does it with a perfect balance of the literary and the commercial.

Deliverance tells the story of a small group of men that take a weekend canoe trip in the spirit of a midlife escapist adventure in the rural woods of Georgia. The story is narrated by Ed Gentry, an advertising executive persuaded by his landlord Lewis Medlock to go on the trip with two other men of his immediate professional circle, Bobby Trippe and Drew Ballinger. Their weekend begins with a variety of missteps, most notably the locals not understanding why they want to risk their safety on the mysteriously dangerous route, the locals confusion at the location of where they plan on embarking from, and a haunting guitar duet with one of the poverty-stricken backwoods boys and Drew Ballinger. When the men finally depart on the river, they are literally hunted with danger from around every curve in the river and from behind every tree trunk. For the next two days, nature's violence, human depravity and cruelty, and the concrete necessity of self-preservation in the face of physical, sexual, legal, and personal horrors are contrasted with Gentry's seemingly pedestrian concerns about the stresses and troubles of his life prior to their departure.

Dickey combines the literary with the commercial in his precise poetry-level-obsessive prose to address a simple idea: when the mundanity of existence is challenged with a unique and harrowing experience, only then can the remarkable nature of normalcy and vibrancy of life be appreciated. This is most apparent in his use of irony throughout the novel. Both the events and the structure of Dickey's writing communicate a conceptual opposite of what is expected in a normal world, even though that normal world now contains the horror of blood, death, and murder in the theater of a calm forest. In one such moment after Bobby and Ed were separated (from Lewis and Drew) and sexually assaulted by two armed assailants, one of the assailants is killed. The dead rapist in the canoe is compared to a "caricature of the southern small-town bum too lazy to do anything but sleep," the arrow used to kill him "expected to vibrate" when Ed held it, but contrary to his expectations, "it didn't; it was like the others – civilized and expert" (115-6). These inanimate objects are figuratively animated in a manner that Ed expects to behave under the gravity of these circumstances - the opposite of the natural order of things - but the reality of the murder comes rushing at Ed all at once in his observance of the unexceptionalness of everything afterward.

This irony is mirrored at the end of the novel in Drew's wife's reaction to Ed informing her of Drew's death and returns his vehicle. Mrs. Ballinger repeats the refrain "useless" again and again, finishing with "nobody can ever do anything. It's all so useless. Everything is useless. It always has been" (230). In this moment, Dickey addresses death as inevitable to life - but it is Drew's wife, not Drew, who questions the very usefulness of one's life or death as she was not on a trip that "gets a hold of middle-class householders every once in a while"...but either they "lie down till the feeling passes...(or) lie down (in a cemetery) before they think about getting up" (8). Essentially, Dickey indicates that the only way to live is to live the way you want to – nothing makes it any less dangerous. Ultimately, some level of risk is necessary in order to experience a life of use and a life of meaning, but no one is able to escape the universe's reign of chaos no matter what path one chooses.

The novel is almost perfectly seated in its time in history, as America was transitioning from a time of post World War II prosperity (familiar to Dickey as a member of "the greatest generation") into a time of irrational violence and seemingly meaningless war, a frustrated middle class whose children face unimaginable horrors while the economy stagnates at home, and political strife in cities discordant with and ignorant of the culture of rural societies. The events of the novel clearly reflect these frustrations – an almost sociopolitical allegory that is to be taken literally as much as figuratively. Boldly venturing from the relatively safe, yet frustrating suburban life down our uncharted, unknown, violent, and dangerous Appalachian river is an ironic challenge to nature, society, and rational expectations. The novel almost directly mirrors the same goals and results evident in Joseph Conrad's Heart of Darkness (and similarly, Coppola's Apocalypse Now, uncoincidentally set in Vietnam in 1970). Essentially Dickey exposes us to a raw animalistic world whose authenticity is unveiled to those who grab a hold of it and shake the shroud loose from our experience and consciousness, and in doing so, awakens his characters at great cost.

By the end, the reality of death and its consequences pull on Gentry like the string of his broken bow and shoot him into the rest of his life with the kinetic energy of having escaped these moments of terrifying violence and fear – something he had no concept of having safely avoided without the experience of facing this chaos head on... and finally, truly, living.

Mention the word "Deliverance" to many people and they tend to immediately recall the famous movie scene and the comment about "...squeal like a pig". I too approached this book with a similar impression of it, though it was surprisingly ranked at number 42 on top-100 list. Unfortunately, the excellence of Dickey's work is lost in the constant and chronic referencing to that one scene. This story is about man's search for self-identity, self-awareness, and acceptance. The story is told from the perspective of Ed Gentry, one of four men to embark on a whitewater river adventure. Ed's frame of reference on this trip is primarily defined by his athletic friend Lewis. Ed compares himself and the other members of the group to Lewis as he looks to find himself in a bit of a mid-life crisis. Ultimately, Ed finds his validation in his ability to push himself beyond what he previously thought possible. Dickey manages to generate some interesting insight into the human psyche within the context of a plot that is as exciting as anything I've read. The descriptions of the river and the challenges the four men face are well done enough to get you there. The plot has several sections where it almost becomes a page-turner rather than a brooding, introspective classical novel like much of the other selections on the top-100 list. I liked this book because it was an exciting story that was far more deeply written than most adventure novels.

This gripping novel mixes life-and-death adventure with issues that stir men's emotions - challenge, machismo, the great outdoors, and morality. The story is told by Ed Gentry, one of four men from Atlanta that head to the north Georgia Mountains for a challenging weekend canoe trip down the rapids. The trip turns horrific on the second day when Ed and his friend Bobby are abducted along the river at gunpoint. After a homosexual assault, the four turn the tables and kill one of the two abductors. But the group is hardly home free; first they argue bitterly about whether to report the killing to authorities - who may or may not believe them. Then the four suffer a deadly mishap in the swirling rapids. At this point the group finds themselves trapped in the wilderness, far from civilization, and perhaps at the mercy of the criminal that escaped. With no outside help available, the men face choices are grim, dangerous, and unavoidable.

This fast-reading novel makes us feel like we're alongside the group in their canoes. The author offers a stark portrayal of wilderness survival, humiliation, and right-versus-wrong, along with an unflattering (if not unfair) look at mountain people. This novel was adapted into a popular 1972 film (with Jon Voight and Burt Reynolds) that stayed faithful to the story, but many say the book is even better.

The book drives home fine points the movie would never have dared to explore, not before Brokeback Mountain, anyway. It is obvious that the author was a poet, but I wish he would not have tried so hard to use poetic imagery that slows down a supposed action adventure story. Six pages on climbing a cliff? Yes, if you realize the cliff is a woman (no details) as is the bad river that must be conquered. First and foremost, this is an exploration into the male psyche--if you're curious about that, you'll enjoy the book. If you're male, you might identify with the characters. More than a little admiration comes from the male characters for the macho Lewis who brings them into a wild wilderness. Never mind that the rural folk are portrayed in scary and debasing ways. I wrote my master's thesis on the unfairness of society's expectations for boys, and this book illustrates every one of them. I give the book 3 stars because I think some men might enjoy the areas the author explores. I doubt women, even those of us who love a good adventure story, would enjoy reading it.

"Deliverance" is a powerful book laden with rich symbolism and commentary on twentieth-century life. No surprise that Dickey is a poet, too; the prose in "Deliverance" delivers an earthy, primitive pungency you can almost taste in the back of your mouth.
First, the title. Deliverance, according to Miriam-Webster, is "the act of delivering someone or something, LIBERATION, RESCUE." In Dickey's book, "Deliverance" has a twofold meaning. The obvious is "Deliverance" as in the liberation of the canoe party from the clutches of the violent rural rednecks. But there's another deliverance at work here, the liberation of a man from the meaninglessness of his suburban life. In the beginning of the novel, which many reviewers dislike but which I think essential to the book, the protagonist - Ed - describes his dull, small world. Neither his job, his wife, or his children engage him much. His life is meaningless and pithy. It's not until he's emerged from his wilderness ordeal that he appreciates it all again. He isn't delivered from his life, he's delivered from its meaninglessness. He's found his life.
If this is a story of attaining manhood, then manhood is appreciating the everyday, the humdrum, and the domestic.
The characters, as other reviewers have already astutely noticed, represent different aspects of modern culture. There's Drew, the dreamer and philosopher, the modern-day liberal; Bobby, the consumer, most removed from the wilderness; Lewis, the reactionary; and there's Ed, Mr. Blank Slate, Joe Normal. Lewis gets them into the mess; Drew is slain trying to pursue the honorable course; Bobby is violated as a result of his own corpulence; and Ed picks up the slack and saves them all in an extraordinary effort involving rock climbing and murder.
But it's the wilderness for me that contains the most potential for symbolism. Like Conrad's "Heart of Darkness," the wilderness is a brooding menace representing the state of nature, and the river the steady road that leads the civilized man there. Certainly, too, given that the novel was written in the late 1960s, the wilderness contains a political element, a connection to the jungles and rivers in Southeast Asia where thousands of American boys were encountering horror on a daily basis.
Is this an anti-war book? I think so. "Deliverance" certainly reveals the horror of combat. And the ultimate result of the combat is a warm appreciation of the quiet. But this appreciation can't come without the combat. So, yes, "Deliverance" is anti-war but implies that war is necessary as well.
If we remember that Dickey was a fighter pilot in WWII, this seemingly paradoxical view makes a lot of sense. Based in the Pacific, Dickey no doubt witnessed the horror and carnage of the bitter combat on the atolls. No doubt Dickey lost a lot of friends, as well. But was there ever a more necessary war than WWII?

To start: although I read this NOT having seen the movie, the movie is enough of a part of American Culture that I knew the basic plot points. LOL - to the point where I was hearing Dueling Banjos in my head as I read the book. As a result, there were no real surprises.

However, in spite of my foreknowledge, this was a good, solid piece of storytelling. The characters were interesting, if not always particularly likeable and the story moved along at a good pace. It's an emotional story and brings up some interesting moral questions.

The famous scene in question (not wanting to spoil it for those of you who grew up in a cave and have no idea what I'm talking about) was well done and as uncomfortable to read as you can imagine. As as such, it's very well written. Dickey leaves you feeling horrible for the characters involved and like you want to take a shower and do something incredibly innocent for a while.

All in all, a well written novel!

Clint Eastwood's transition of the Dennis Lehane novel "Mystic River" to the screen did not appear to suffer in the subsequent comparisons between the two. A similar comment could be made of James Dickey's "Deliverance."
Yet for me it is the beauty of Dickey's prose that rears it's head repeatedly reminding us all of his brilliance as a poet and a writer. The descriptions of the wilderness so close to the "civilized world" are enchanting, seductive. And when we see what the 4 businessmen have to do to survive the law of the wilderness and then in a brilliant piece of irony, the law of the civilized world, we wonder who transformed who.
The 4 men, all friends of varying degrees of kinsmanship, agree to a whitewater camping trip in Georgia on a section of the river soon to be dammed up, never to exist again. It's a last taste of this portion of Mother Nature. Lewis Medlock, the strongest of the group in his mental acuity and survival instincts as well as his physical prowess is the natural leader of the group.
Things don't turn sour immediately but then they go downhill fast. A chance meeting with violent 'mountain men' leads to murder, or is it self defense? That leads again to another killing, and the men are faced with dealing with issues, moral and physical, that they never imagined.
Lewis had prophesied to Ed Gentry in the first chapter of Dickey's masterpiece that 'the line between civilization and survival is very thin' and then asks Ed what would he do if he found himself on 'the other side?'
Of course that's what he does after Lewis is savagely injured, and Ed Gentry must take over if any are to remain. Excellent, brilliant movie; better book. 5 stars. Larry Scantlebury

There is an undying Quality about deliverance.
On it's surface, it's an adventure_a popular novel with a plot strong enough for the movie hollywood made from it_but Deliverance has more levels than that. It talks about the nature of being in the world, and the nature of being a man in the world using a stunningly robust, deeply poetic language that draws the reader in and accomplishes miracles without once becoming florid or precious.
Deliverance demonstrates the kind of facility and craft in writing that convinces. One might not agree with what Dickey's narrator has to say about the world and about the world of men_some of it might not ring true in every ear_but the places and things he used to make his points are and remain unmatched in popular fiction.
Deliverance, unlike many adventures that are written today, is more than a typing excersize; more than a book that derives it's depth from its length or from the force of its writer's ego. One could almost imagine a modern Jack London having written it.
It's the kind of book that any writer would be proud to have written and it is nothing less than superb.

A young man with little experience in the woods outside of a KOA campground need not soon revisit such a tale of horror and invasion. Still, the memories of the worst of it, the visual of it have stayed with me, however blurred. The albino boy with the banjo, the wildness of the river, and yes, the screams of Ned Beatty. But film has rarely if ever captured the dark beauty of nature or the hopelessness of true tragedy and so it became time to place the story into the frame for which it was painted by its author. Not the four corners of a television screen but the boundless, edgeless space of the imagination.

James Dickey's novel is a haunted lyric, a trembling poem in homage to the blackness of the woods, the foaming malevolence of white water, the wretchedness of human depravity. His words are beautiful and terrible.

As a man, I have learned to love the woods and the waters that flow through them. I have spent my share of time in the back country with men I have respected and loved in search of nothing more than that sought after by the men in Dickey's novel - decompression, detachment, deliverance. The strange otherness of the night, hanging between the trees in the same Appalachia is part of my own experience. And so I am frightened by this story and excited by it having bathed in the adrenaline that comes only from the place where courage and fear come to terms.

I recommend this book to every weekend warrior who has depended on fire and fortitude and friendship to smooth the rugged wilderness into a place not to run from but to return to with all the exhilaration the human spirit is capable of achieving.

This one, Mr. Dickey, goes on the top shelf.

"Deliverance" is as tough, gritty, and eloquent as any of Dickey's poems. In this novel, Dickey displays his talents as an observer, and as a story teller. Despite the macho, outdoor aesthetic that permeates much of the book, there is a surprising degree of psychology and subtlety involved.
The pace of "Deliverance" reminds me of some of Kubrik's finer films (2001, The Shining, Full Metal Jacket). As in many of Kubrik's works, "Deliverance" begins with a slow buildup which takes place in a normal environment. This buid up not only creates the tension for the action to follow, but also paves its psychological foundation. In the beginning of "Deliverance" we sense many things about it's mundane protagonist--an ordinary man who is inadvertantly called upon to perform under extaordinary circumstances.
Ed Gentry is a typical office worker, family man, and friend. But in a few critical scenes such as the one in which he makes love to his wife but imagines the tiger like eyes of a model he is attracted to, we sense something different. The moment of sexual fantasy--a normal component of much marital sex--evokes a primacy and animal nature that is universal to most men. It is an abstract idea and only a slight hint of things to come. The primal instinct would probably remain concealed in Ed Gentry if extraordinary circumstances did not require it to surface.
His friend Lewis (aptly played by Burt Reynolds in the film), on the other hand is the opposite type of person. One of those men you encounter sooner or later in a bar, or neighborhood PTA meeting, Lewis is a loud, and vocal promoter of the animal within. But as irony would have it, it is Ed and not Lewis who displays the killer instinct when it is most needed.
Dickey also displays tremendous psychological insite during the critical rape scene. His description of the victim, his friend who watches helplessly, and his irreverent savior are all too real.
In addition to Dickey's psychological insite, I enjoyed his description of the canoe trip down the river, which was almost certainly based on direct experience.
Most of all, I loved the novel's irony. Four men take a trip down one of the last virgin rivers to experience life in the wild. They get what they came there for.

This book is amazing at some points. The struggle of the human body and mind to cope with the most difficult of situations. The adventure, the conflict, the suspense are almost unparalleled in modern fiction. The only flaw in this book is the fact that it's also somewhat unreadable at other points.
First off, nothing of true significance happens in the first 100 pages. That's one third of the book totally wasted. A description of an advertising agency, a description of archery, and other such descriptions just disrupt the true meaning of the novel. Secondly, this book is not one of the most fluid books around. It's true that this book is fairly modern, but the pages don't turn like a Puzo or Clavell novel.
However, once the reader trudges through the first one hundred pages and becomes accustomed to the Dickey's non fluid style, the books becomes a gem. Without giving away much of the plot, this rest of the book mostly chronicles two days of man's adventure when a simple canoeing trip goes terribly wrong.
The sense of danger, action, suspense is all mixed in with moral dilemmas that make this one of the best adventures in literature. Dickey turns a simple situation into a complex web of lies, of death, and consequences. From the matter of climbing a rock face, to lying to cops, Dickey seems to thrust the reader into the problems of the main character.
If Dickey trimmed the first 100 pages down to 10, this would be one of the greatest books I?ve ever read.

A young man with little experience in the woods outside of a KOA campground need not soon revisit such a tale of horror and invasion. Still, the memories of the worst of it, the visual of it have stayed with me, however blurred. The albino boy with the banjo, the wildness of the river, and yes, the screams of Ned Beatty. But film has rarely if ever captured the dark beauty of nature or the hopelessness of true tragedy and so it became time to place the story into the frame for which it was painted by its author. Not the four corners of a television screen but the boundless, edgeless space of the imagination.

James Dickey's novel is a haunted lyric, a trembling poem in homage to the blackness of the woods, the foaming malevolence of white water, the wretchedness of human depravity. His words are beautiful and terrible.

As a man, I have learned to love the woods and the waters that flow through them. I have spent my share of time in the back country with men I have respected and loved in search of nothing more than that sought after by the men in Dickey's novel - decompression, detachment, deliverance. The strange otherness of the night, hanging between the trees in the same Appalachia is part of my own experience. And so I am frightened by this story and excited by it having bathed in the adrenaline that comes only from the place where courage and fear come to terms.

I recommend this book to every weekend warrior who has depended on fire and fortitude and friendship to smooth the rugged wilderness into a place not to run from but to return to with all the exhilaration the human spirit is capable of achieving.

This one, Mr. Dickey, goes on the top shelf.

"Deliverance" is as tough, gritty, and eloquent as any of Dickey's poems. In this novel, Dickey displays his talents as an observer, and as a story teller. Despite the macho, outdoor aesthetic that permeates much of the book, there is a surprising degree of psychology and subtlety involved.
The pace of "Deliverance" reminds me of some of Kubrik's finer films (2001, The Shining, Full Metal Jacket). As in many of Kubrik's works, "Deliverance" begins with a slow buildup which takes place in a normal environment. This buid up not only creates the tension for the action to follow, but also paves its psychological foundation. In the beginning of "Deliverance" we sense many things about it's mundane protagonist--an ordinary man who is inadvertantly called upon to perform under extaordinary circumstances.
Ed Gentry is a typical office worker, family man, and friend. But in a few critical scenes such as the one in which he makes love to his wife but imagines the tiger like eyes of a model he is attracted to, we sense something different. The moment of sexual fantasy--a normal component of much marital sex--evokes a primacy and animal nature that is universal to most men. It is an abstract idea and only a slight hint of things to come. The primal instinct would probably remain concealed in Ed Gentry if extraordinary circumstances did not require it to surface.
His friend Lewis (aptly played by Burt Reynolds in the film), on the other hand is the opposite type of person. One of those men you encounter sooner or later in a bar, or neighborhood PTA meeting, Lewis is a loud, and vocal promoter of the animal within. But as irony would have it, it is Ed and not Lewis who displays the killer instinct when it is most needed.
Dickey also displays tremendous psychological insite during the critical rape scene. His description of the victim, his friend who watches helplessly, and his irreverent savior are all too real.
In addition to Dickey's psychological insite, I enjoyed his description of the canoe trip down the river, which was almost certainly based on direct experience.
Most of all, I loved the novel's irony. Four men take a trip down one of the last virgin rivers to experience life in the wild. They get what they came there for.

This book is amazing at some points. The struggle of the human body and mind to cope with the most difficult of situations. The adventure, the conflict, the suspense are almost unparalleled in modern fiction. The only flaw in this book is the fact that it's also somewhat unreadable at other points.
First off, nothing of true significance happens in the first 100 pages. That's one third of the book totally wasted. A description of an advertising agency, a description of archery, and other such descriptions just disrupt the true meaning of the novel. Secondly, this book is not one of the most fluid books around. It's true that this book is fairly modern, but the pages don't turn like a Puzo or Clavell novel.
However, once the reader trudges through the first one hundred pages and becomes accustomed to the Dickey's non fluid style, the books becomes a gem. Without giving away much of the plot, this rest of the book mostly chronicles two days of man's adventure when a simple canoeing trip goes terribly wrong.
The sense of danger, action, suspense is all mixed in with moral dilemmas that make this one of the best adventures in literature. Dickey turns a simple situation into a complex web of lies, of death, and consequences. From the matter of climbing a rock face, to lying to cops, Dickey seems to thrust the reader into the problems of the main character.
If Dickey trimmed the first 100 pages down to 10, this would be one of the greatest books I?ve ever read.

The film is an American classic, and it's a faithful adaptation of the book, with Dickey supplying its screenplay, but the film and book are distinctly separate things. This book is so much better. `Nuff said.

In mid-19th century Great Britain, social commentators expressed increasing fear that the accelerating Industrial Revolution, bringing men into factories to toil in small, dark indoor spaces over machines, away from the country and the farm and the outdoors, was robbing them of their vital, centuries-old connection to the land and its ways, and rapidly lessening British manhood, posing a genuine threat to the Empire. How could a man married to a machine in a factory and living in urban squalor retain the manly--and national security-required--attributes of self-reliance, strength, fortitude, determination, stoicism, confidence, and with it the arrogance to act quickly, decisively, and when needed, brutally?

Dickey poses the same question regarding American men in the latter half of the 20th century. In the era of the Baraclounger, "...the Drive-ins and Motels and Homes of the Whopper..." [sic], of the "...soft city country-club man..."[sic], with men spending entire lives at jobs requiring no connection to or even thoughts of dirt or actual toil or struggle, what exactly defines a man? In the suburban malaise of leisure America, what exactly constitutes manhood? How is it gotten; is it earned? Is manhood simply a function of age, achievement, the job you hold? Is it a public convention, based on the car you drive, your bank account, peer recognition? Can you self-identify, or is it something that must be witnessed and acknowledged, and therefore implicitly conferred? If conferred, by whom, and what are the criteria/circumstances? Does it come from a trial by fire or facing death? This is what Dickey explores, making it absolutely clear that manhood comes from decision and action, from both the actor and the acted-upon. It is born in conflict, and resolves through all-in dedication and effort. Only then can a man call himself one, and his peers have no choice but to agree.

For the first-person narrator Ed, Bobby, Drew and Lewis, it's a relatively simple trial, a weekend on a mountain river, with tents, canoes, beers and bows, getting away from the "paraphernalia of bookkeeping" and "...the sleep of mild people," feeling "...nothing mattered at all..." and going to the mountains, into the woods, into the water. These observations are Ed's lament, and it's no mistake his name is a take on "gentleman" or any of its permutations and direct and implied meanings. He is quiet, successful and thoughtful, yet he feels he is missing something. The fact that none of them has ever been to this place before is inconsequential, until their ignorance and underestimation of the wicked world's reality turns a one-off weekend playing at wilderness survival into a matter of life and death. Manhood is played at, taken and earned.

Dickey spins a profoundly masculine tale of four friends, not necessarily close friends but close enough, who act on a charismatic challenge for adventure, without considering exactly what they're doing; their predicament is a result of their failure to consider. Women in this tale, while not meaningless, are accessories to the male story, not an equal complement, but something needed and cherished. This is a story of men relating to men, subtle influences and challenges, and how among barely domesticated cavemen, the slightest movement, gesture, look or sound becomes a challenge or an insult, the oldest alpha-male determinant. The caveman emerges, or must be called forth. If not strong, then you are weak. There is no middle ground. You give in or you compel, and it must be done on your own. There is no substitution. The transformation is permanent, and it comes fast, often instantaneously, and the men involved instinctively know which way it has gone.

This is a stark and deeply sensual story, full of touch, sound, taste and smell. A massive portion of the "alive" the men feel on this adventure is its direct and unaccustomed assault on their senses, and they--especially Ed, needing to feel "in touch"--revel in the stone, sand, water, sunlight, decay, wind, the woods, and the blood. As a novel of sense, it is also a story of male sexual awareness, not smutty, but of its undeniable presence in men's minds, influencing their actions. In exploring this subject, Dickey poses some profound questions on the role of sex in human relationship, its dominant role in male perception, and on action.

In the end, it's deliverance from what? From the river and its threats, of course, but that's too easy. It's deliverance from the crushing mundanity of existing in the American service industry, from self-imposed and others' questions of inadequacy, questions of purpose and capacity. It's deliverance from a life "filled with desolation," from existing as "...some poor fool who lives as unobserved and impotent as a ghost...," from "...the long, declining routine of our lives" to "another life." It's deliverance from a life of unanswered questions to one of dubious yet undeniable and enduring achievement, to one where the necessary yet unfortunate answers must never be uttered, ever, having become a "light green tall forest man, an explorer, guerrilla, hunter..."

Bottom line: Dickey offers a beautifully written, deeply introspective, poetic and enduring exploration of the nature and location modern American masculinity. It's a simple story, filled with action and violence, yet is no simple us-versus-them yarn. Its depth of prose and the questions it asks run incredibly deep, where a man through horrible trial emerges "...wounded and stronger...a lot stronger. Yes indeed."

I have actually never seen the movie based on this novel but after reading this 1970 written classic, definitely plan to do so. This very simple storyline is just as much a thriller as anything else out there. Even though the story is told as a narration by Ed so you obviously know he survives you have no idea how many or if any of the others will as you turn the pages on this tranquil adventure which halfway through turns into a terrifying read and one that ponders the question of what would you do in order to survive. The descriptions of them canoeing down the river and rapids really make you believe you are in the canoes with these guys. A great classic read, glad I picked it up.

Deliverance is the story of a trip into the wilderness by four middle aged city guys, Ed, Lewis, Drew and Bobby. While some of the party are a bit reluctant to make the journey they are all eventually convinced by the fact that not too far in the future this river and surrounding area will be underwater when the new dam is complete and no one will ever have the chance to do a canoe trip like this again. They take a guitar and an archers bow to do a bit of illegal deer hunting along the way. The first day and night doesn't go smoothly but there's nothing they hadn't anticipated except an owl roosting and puncturing their tent with its talons as it constantly returns from hunting. On their second day however they will encounter true evil. Their stamina, friendship and every other trait will be tested to its extreme if they are going to make it back to civilisation alive.

I've always been intrigued by the movie version of Deliverance. No, not because it was the only good role that Burt Reynolds had in his career before he sunk into the depths of schlock. What always intrigued me about the movie was the hidden power of nature itself, and I mean Nature, with a capital "N". So here the power of the river lead me to the novel.
Deliverance is about 4 friends, all in their late 30's or thereabouts who all lead comfortable lives and for some reason have a spirtual itch they can't scratch. They know they are missing something but can't really put their fingers on it. The novel is told from the viewpoint of one of them, Ed, who is a successful part owner of a commercial art/photography company. He is so bored with his life and his wife and kids that he longs for deliverance from it. He wants a new life. His best friend, Lewis, offers him a chance to get away from it all by planning a 3 day canoe trip down a little traveled river. Their friends Drew and Bobby also come along. It takes a while for them to get to the actual reality of doing it and you wonder if they're all just going to back out of it, and they almost do. Their lives will be forever changed. Those that live, that is.
This was a great book. It really shows the rotten idealism of the weekend warrior, a plague which has only intensified in the past thirty years. Suburbanites figure they can load up their SUV's and go camping for the weekend and that's considered adventure. In Deliverance, we're in the real deal, survival of the fittest, life or death, pushed to the highest physical and mental extremes. If you're going to be full of pride and believe you can control nature, there's going to be trouble. One of the hillbillies in the novel speaks for the land when he says "what the hell you doing messing around with that river?". Of course the response is "It's there".
Deliverance is a classic classic novel. It gives us a return to the most primal human being and yet also shows heroism and courage, and loyalty. Humans are shown in all their ugliness and beauty here.

Macho southern author par excellence James Dickey wrote this well crafted, richly poetic (Dickey was one of America's finest poets of the latter part of the 20th Century) paen to the alpha male as a reaction to the "let's get back to the peace, tranquillity and harmony of nature" sub culture that gained prominence in the late 1960's.
What the transcedentalists like Thoreau, Wordsworth, Shelley and others failed to ultimately realize that immersing oneself in the sheer beauty of the natural world means that one must play by nature's rules. Dickey apparently believes Darwin was right in interpreting nature's rules to be: only the strong organism survives.
The four main characters serve as contemporary archetypes for contemporary American society.
Lewis is the uber-macho hunter eager to see the "system" fail so he can have the opportunity to live by his physique. He is sincere in his devotion to "the strenuous life", but Dickey will not allow us to depend on the traditional warrior to provide the food and the protection. It is our job.
Bobby is the overweight, vulgar super consumer who has, through the process of evolution, mangaged to remove all vestiges of the savage hunter from his being. He has become far too accustomed to feeding off the bounty harvested from the rape of the natural world (boy howdy is he in for an ironic table turning!). His soft white underbelly is ripe for the attack as he is incapable (at least in the beginning) of producing any physical threat. His job is to let his talking do the action.
Drew is the idealist who believes in the purity and gentle aesthetics of the forest. He is one who has probably commited "Walden Pound" and The Constitution to memory. It is he who believes in Democracy and decency. In many ways he is Jimmy Stewart in "Mr. Smith Goes to Washington" reincarnated.
And finally there is our bland (this, I believe is Dickey's purposefull intention) narrator, the commercial artist Ed who is a blank slate. Like "The Call of The Wild's" 'Buck' (I strongly encourage all to re-read Jack London's aforemention book in conjunction with Deliverance- the similarities are astounding!), it is Ed who must progress (evolve) by retrogressing. It is he who I believe becomes the reader's persona and ultimately the story is about Ed's Deliverance. And ours. Perhaps.
Like William Golding's "Lord of the Flies", Dickey seems to suggest that while facing the roaring river and her inhabitants, morality is, to quote London "a luxury one can ill afford in the wild." Morality and law after all are not commodities traded in nature's open market.
Like the river itself, Deliverance is beautiful, savage, and ever flowing toward an inevitable (but suprising!) conclusion. It is not for the faint of heart, but for those looking for a good read containing prose crafted by an expert marksman, Deliverance is a great novel well worth your time. A classic.

When four "typical" suburban businessmen decide to canoe down a river in the wilderness of northern Georgia, they are unprepared for any of the disasters which await them. Inexperienced as canoeists, overloaded with beer and supplies, and ignorant of both the river and the mountains, they all have romantic visions of meeting some self-imposed test of manhood, of shooting a deer with bow and arrow and feeding themselves, of becoming one with the pristine environment, and of emerging from the experience "fulfilled" as men. Instead, they discover hostile country men, whom they refer to as "rednecks," who prove to be even more treacherous than the sheer faces of the cliffs along the river, the river's rocks and currents, and the dense, almost impenetrable, woods.

Poet James Dickey combines his ability to create vibrant descriptions of the natural world with his equally sensitive awareness of the need for city people to get closer to their roots. While sympathetic and understanding toward these suburbanites and their "mission," he is also careful to show their ignorance and their casual arrogance, both toward the natural elements and toward the mountain dwellers for whom this wilderness represents the whole world. As the journey on the river begins, Dickey's romantic descriptions parallel the buoyant spirits of the canoeists, and as disasters begin to strike, his descriptions become darker, reflecting ominous events ahead.

When two mountain dwellers attack the four suburbanites in scenes which are by now infamous from the film, Dickey's minute descriptions of the most devastating aspects of these events add power to the story--one cannot simply close one's eyes to the worst of the horrors which destroy one canoeist's innocence forever. As main character/narrator Ed Gentry recreates this and succeeding events, the fact that he is a very "ordinary" man, who also reflects the responses of his readers, creates an additional bond of sympathy between the reader and the characters.

The practical and ethical dilemmas the men face at the end of the novel put the conflict between the "civilized" life of the city and the "natural" life of the wild into new perspective, reflecting the long-term effects of this test of "manhood." Appealing for its action, the intensity of its themes, the reality of its descriptions of nature, and the questions raised by its ending, Dickey's novel has become a standard of the man-against-nature genre. n Mary Whipple

Can it be accurately said that "Deliverance" (the movie, if not the book) is the source of some of the most recognizable images in 20th Century America? How many times have you ever pulled into a small town with your friends or spouse, just to have someone in the car start imitating the opening chords to that banjo breakdown? Or how many times have you heard "this is Deliverance country"? And besides the scene where that huge shark in Jaws clamps down on Robert Shaw, is there anything more realistically horrifying (and simulataneously engrossing) as Ned Beatty's "love scene"?

In somewhat unfairness to the book, it's hard to divorce a reading of this book from the movie. Like the book, the movie was itself a masterpiece example of what popular culture could turn out in the late '60s and early '70s. Unfortunately, I could not get elements of the movie of my mind while I read the book, but that is some tribute to the movie. The casting was masterful, and reading the development of the men in the book only confirmed the perfect match of each actor to his character.

Now, about the book. Dickey was a poet, and his mastery of painting with words is on full display here. The descriptions of the natural world that these city men thrust themselves into are wonderful. Dickey's intent, no doubt, is to put on full display the "bigness" of the world that these men are in and how truly alien and helpless they are. The mountain people are decribed with unapologetic candor, and the movie's depiction of them as toothless crackers and inbreds is consistent with the book's. For our protagonists, the violent foreigness (and beauty) of the land is symbolic of the mountain people.

Now, for one of culture's top 100 iconographic images: the cornholing scene. I was amused to see how Dickey played with that scene all through the book. There is Ed's (that's Jon Voight) quasi-erotic appreciation of Lewis (that's Burt Reynolds), Ed's doggie-style rendevous with this wife, Ed's (understandable if not justifiable) contempt and disrespect of Bobby (that's Ned Beatty) after his "violation," and the new awkwardness of having to deal with the bodies of other men (like treating the wounded).

The book presents a great puzzle of right and wrong. These four canoers represent four sides of the modern suburban middle class family man. The strong leader, the thoughtful peacemaker, the pathetic victim, and the conflicted pragmatist. The latter is Ed, Jon Voight's character. In him, Dickey succeeded in creating a wonderfully sympathetic everyman (dumb but fitting word) that we can all appreciate. Things are neither black nor white for him. The mountain people are still people to him, seemingly unlike Lewis' view. But the priorities of the situation suspend the normal laws of civilation for Ed, unlike the position that Drew (that's Ronny Cox) would have taken. We all admire Ed, who under extreme demands and circumstances rises to become the strongest man on the trip. And is there any reader who questions the choices that Ed makes, at least by the time that Dickey takes us through the tale with Ed?

What a book. I don't know that Dickey ever gave us anything like this ever again, but this one is a gift.

Shocking when it was published in 1970, James Dickey's DELIVERANCE has become a classic on par with J.D. Salinger's THE CATCHER IN THE RYE, or Kurt Vonnegut's SLAUGHTERHOUSE 5. It is the full, unflinchingly honest story of one man's observations, experiences, travails and---yes---horrors of going out into the natural world for a taste of the wild life. An odyssey for which he had never been even remotely prepared in his life.
It is the story of Ed Gentry, his born-to-be-wild, alpha-male best friend Lewis (we never do find out his last name), and two acquaintances, soft-bodied insurance salesman Bobby Trippe and banjo-playing sales manager Drew Ballinger, as they set out on a three-day whitewater canoe journey. A canoe journey that would bring them much, much more than any of them---including Lewis---had bargained for. One that would bring them face-to-face with the wild side of human nature. One which they might not survive.
Told from Ed's viewpoint, DELIVERANCE is a powerful study in what happens when two extremes meet each other; when one has to play the other's game in order to hope for any chance of survival. When raw masculinity is freely expressed in one moment, then cruelly stripped away in the next. When one's biggest fear was making it through the daily grind, and who now must rely on his own long-atrophied natural instincts to achieve his own needed deliverance. This is a study in suburban routine and complacency meeting the ugly rural face of chaos. This is the story of the weekend these men had when they didn't play golf.
This is a story that is unsuspectingly brutal, not for the squeamish and certainly not for children. Everyone else should experience it. Whether it turns you off or intrigues your senses, one thing's for sure: DELIVERANCE is a novel that will stay with you long after you finish the journey.
MOST RECOMMENDED; AGES 17 & UP

Perhaps due to an extemporaneous line in the movie version of Deliverance (it "jokingly" compares the slaughter of a pig to the experience of rape, and is not in the book), James Dickey's masterpiece has become the butt of jokes about "mutant rednecks" in Jeff Foxworthy stand-up routines and the like. This is unfortunate, since it obscures the brilliance of this classic, which the editors of the Modern Library rightly named as one of the hundred best books of the twentieth century. The book is an exploration of the "existential" - not the philosophical movement associated with Kierkegaard and Sartre (although the book shares certain features with it), but rather the fundaments of existence: life, death, friendship, survival, society and clan, morality and amorality, laws and lawlessness. In plain, unadorned prose, Dickey provides an utterly convincing portrait of life in a state of nature - both the literal state (his descriptions of the wild river call to mind the photography of Ansel Adams), and the figurative state described by Thomas Hobbes, a "war of every man against every man." It is a harrowing journey, at the end of which the reader will feel as "delivered" from evil as the narrator of the story - grateful, but forever changed.

Captures the South as it pivoted from rural, gothic, untamed wilds to the same bland suburbs you find everywhere else. A middle aged, dead man walking, the narrator endures horrors that awaken him to a life he's never had.

Note: I made some immature Mormon angry because of my negative reviews of books that attempted to prove the Book of Mormon, and that person has been slamming my reviews almost as fast as they are posted.

So, your "helpful" votes are appreciated. Thanks, and note that a short review is not necessarily a bad review if it leads you to a great book.

Don't miss this shattering, reading-into-the-night novel. A group of set off on a raft trip down a wild river in the south, and everything goes wrong. I won't tell anymore, except to say that this is one of the best adventure novels I ever read.

The "New Yorker" said, "A novelist of power and skill. A marvel of description that will make your muscles ache. A brilliant and breathtaking adventure that is also a comment on American life."

The movie was great at the time, but I've heard it has not aged well. Read the novel. You're in for a treat and an all-night read.

Here are a couple other highly recommended adventure novels:
"Cry Wolf" (set in Ethiopia in the 1930s), by Wilbur Smith.
Cry Wolf

"Memoirs of an Invisible Man" (a man become invisible when there is an explosion at a research facility and everyone is out to get him), by Harry F. Saint.
Memoirs of an Invisible Man

"The Far Arena" (a Roman gladiator is dug out of the ice in the North sea and revived), by Ben Sapir. A super lost classic of a novel! Not to be missed!
Far Arena

'Deliverance' is a novel that seems as fresh today as it was when it was written in 1970. It's very similar to the movie it was based on, little wonder since James Dickey also wrote the screenplay. Basically it is a story of four suburban Atlanta buddies who embark on a canoe trip in a remote, wild area of Georgia just to flex their testosterone and boost their male ego. It all goes horribly wrong in many ways. Ultimately they learn some very hard lessons about life and themselves.

My only complaint with the novel is that I felt I really understood only one of the four main characters, specifically the one narrating the story. The others received relatively little attention, and therefore I really didn't get "inside their heads".

Bottom line: just like the movie except no Dueling Banjoes, a big demerit, and no Burt Reynolds and his toupee, a big plus. Recommended.

This book is not all about murderous mountain men and cityfolk with revenge on their mind. This is about a man's search for himself and his ability to conquer his fears and rely on true survival tactics in order to stay alive. All of the characters have their positives and negatives and after finishing this great book, you are left wanting even more. Dickey has written a masterpiece, an adventure on a large river in the Northern Georgian wilderness where there is little human contact, or so it is thought. A group of city men's camping trip becomes a fight for survival and as the back of the book says, one of the men is offered his own "harrowing deliverance". A fantastic, highly readable journey that will have you questioning yourself and looking at life a little differently.

The outdoors is a lovely place, especially if you have the chance to go to remote locations up in the mountains. Cool, flowing rivers and mountains emerging from the landscape. It takes your breath away. There are times in Dickey's novel, Deliverance, where your breath is taken away, reading in awe his flawless description of nature. The emotion, the beautiful flowing language that surfaces throughout the novel, can make it a marvel and a wonder of modern writing. At times, you can feel you are really there, and some of the descriptions used to convey feelings, is at times, unmatched in literature. Yet, at other times, Deliverance can be such an ugly, mean spirited novel that it clashes with the setting it takes place in.

The story opens in a bar, with four urban city men discussing an expedition that they are planning. The four men are going to take a river rafting trip in the remote mountainous country. The story is told from the point of view of Ed, a graphics designer that has practically no experience with camping. The only one of the four who does is Lewis, who has an obsession with the outdoors and an addiction to challenge. The other two characters are Drew and Bobby. Very little is told about who they are or what they do. Throughout the story, we get the feeling that Drew is the nice guy of the bunch, and Bobby is the whiny cowardice.

The trip to the mountains starts off fine. The four men take a canoe trip down a famous river. None of them are very experienced, and obviously have not planned out there trip as well as they could. The first day goes by without a hitch, despite some awkward maneuvering of the canoes by a couple of the men. The next day is when all hell brakes loose. WARNING: some spoilers ahead, (but not enough to give away the story). As Ed and Bobby are riding down the river, they encounter two men with rifles who demand they pull the canoe over. The following passage is a horrifying rape scene between one of the hillbillies and Bobby. Just as it becomes Ed's turn, Lewis shoots one of the rapists through the heart and the other one escape into the woods. The four friends bury the body, and make with desperate haste to get back to civilization.

Yet, as they make their way home, a human hunter awaits for them in unexpected places. More tragedy strikes as the men are caught in a race for survival. I dare not reveal anything else about what happens next, just to say that the best passages of the novel will take place at this point, as we feel the men's raw emotions emerge at a time of crises.

Dickey is obviously a master of words, and at times, this book sheds more insight to emotion and reaction to stress more than any book I can recall. The descriptions of the mountains, the rivers, can be sublime and fascinating.

Deliverance, after a slow start picks up the pace, and it definitely is a tense, well crafted novel. At the end, it leaves us with a feeling of mystery, and the reader never really knows if everything was played out the way it seems. The reader never really knows if everything is resolved. The ending makes this book even better than it should be, with a feeling of uneasiness and wonder.

I have a couple gnawing problems with Deliverance. None of which would make me not recommend it. In fact, I highly recommend it, even if it is slightly overrated. I certainly would not say it is one of the greatest novels of our time, as others have. One of the problems for me is how dislikable the main character is. If he were more likeable, I think we could care a lot more about his struggle. Also, the other characters we hardly know anything about, so it is hard to care a lot when tragedy strikes. The other problem I had with novel is that it can be so mean spirited in the midst of the beauty that surrounds it. It isn't a huge deal for me; it just seems a bit out of place in a book of this kind. I think that Dickey could have toned it down just a bit, and the novel still could have packed an emotional punch and actually, in this case, been more effective. Mean spiritedness is okay if it is used in the correct context. You be the judge.

Still, Deliverance does shine through at its core. Even if it isn't perfect, it is sometimes. I believe it could have a lasting effect on some readers, and yes, there were times the tension was toe curling, to the point of actually feeling like you are there. One thing is for certain, I won't be planning a canoeing trip anytime in the near future.

Grade: A-

In little more than 200 pages, this mystery contrasts the relaxation of great American outdoors to a horrific experience with a few degenerates of the deep south who give the four main characters a nightmare ordinarily only experienced by convicts.

If you saw the movie, this book will not establish much that you do not know. There are differences and some details which could not be included within the two hours allotted for the movie. And, the depth of the characters and the detail to the southern drawl make the experience extremely pleasant and worthy of a good read.

Like the river on which 90% of the book occurs, the writing flows -- sometimes fast and furious and other times gently, but always moving.

The cover quoted a review claiming that Dickey's ". . . language has a descriptive power not often matched in contemporary American writing." If southern language is the goal of your reading, two other books come to mind - each with such exact phonetic references to the southern pronunciation that it makes the reading arduous at times. They are: "Their Eyes Were Watching God" by Zora Neale Hurston and "The Color Purple" by Alice Walker.

For those wondering about the title, it is explained in the second chapter: ". . . the practicality of the sex, so necessary to its survival, but the promise of it that promised other things, another life, deliverance." And, so the city slicking middle aged men jaunt to the white waters of the rural south (northern Georgia by Clayton) - for their deliverance where they can (for a few days at least) experience another life.

If the violence of this book excites you, pull out "A Good Man Is Hard to Find" by Flannery O'Connor. [...]
That is a group of short stories, the first of which makes the violence of this story appear tame.

This is a classic beach read during the summer or a quick mystery tour with a happy - but not entirely happy (or even close for that matter) - ending. This is fun fiction. This is a good book to read.

James Dickey's "Deliverance" is one of the great works of late twentieth Century American literature. It combines the excitement of the modern novel with the symbolism of the classics.
I find Dickey's masterpiece to be strikingly similar to Conrad's "Heart of Darkness," another favorite of mine from a very different time and place. Superficially, the plots of the two are almost identical - a journey down (or up) an uncharted river, a questionable, even unknown destination, confrontation with "natives," a descent into madness, and an escape that changes the main character forever. Both give a frightening insight into the darker sides of the human psyche.
I first read "Deliverance" in high school some years ago, and I recently dusted it off for a long train ride. I can't recommend it enough.