A Hundred and Sixty Books by Washington Authors: Some Other Writers Who are Contributors to Periodical Literature

In Short

This volume is a bibliographic survey and literary scrapbook compiled in 1916 to showcase the burgeoning output of Washington state authors. It serves as a directory of writers—ranging from esteemed historians and naturalists to poets and journalists—who captured the state’s rugged landscapes, pioneer history, and indigenous lore. By categorizing these works into genres like history, science, and fiction, and supplementing them with brief editorial summaries and evocative excerpts, the text preserves the spirit of a young, ambitious literary community intent on documenting their rapidly evolving world.

The Story

The narrative arc of the book begins with the compiler's clear-eyed recognition that a state is built as much by its thinkers and chroniclers as by its builders. The opening foreword posits that Washington’s literature is strongest when it is local, rooted in the personal experiences of those who witnessed the transition from territory to statehood. The book then methodically unfolds as an annotated inventory, starting with local histories. These early entries highlight the contributions of figures like Edmond S. Meany and Ezra Meeker, whose writings on the Oregon Trail and the pioneer experience serve as the foundational bedrock of the region’s written history.

As the text progresses, it pivots from the factual to the descriptive, exploring travel accounts of Alaska, the natural majesty of the Cascades, and the scientific classifications of Northwest flora and fauna. The focus then shifts into creative realms, listing novels that grapple with industrial change, homesteading, and the complexities of human character. The latter portions of the book broaden to include the work of journalists, contributors to periodicals, and poets who sought to transmute the beauty of the "Evergreen Pine" and the "Great Mountain" into verse.

The final movement of the book moves away from bibliography toward a more intimate, spiritual engagement with the written word. It culminates in a collection of "lines worth knowing by heart"—aphorisms, prayers, and stanzas that encapsulate the moral and emotional preoccupations of the era. By concluding with these fragments, the book transforms from a cold list of publications into a resonant portrait of a people trying to find the sacred in their daily lives. It ends on a note of gentle introspection, offering readers a series of reflections on duty, kindness, and the "Something" within the soul that drives human achievement. The book does not just catalog the state's authors; it attempts to codify the collective values and aspirations of a pioneer generation.

How It Unfolds

The foundational history The book opens by establishing the importance of local history, emphasizing the firsthand accounts of pioneers who recorded the transition of the territory. It prioritizes the "historian's instinct" found in diaries, letters, and memoirs that link the present to the origins of the state.

The natural survey The focus expands to include the geography of the Northwest, highlighting detailed examinations of the mountains, forests, and the inland sea. Scientific works on botany and bird life are treated with equal weight to the romantic, poetic descriptions of the landscape.

The shift to fiction and society The middle sections document the rise of local fiction, featuring stories of homesteading, the impact of conservation policies, and the struggles of industrial life. This portion demonstrates how writers began to address the social tensions of the time, such as the plight of laborers and the complexities of the modern family.

The collection of voices The later chapters move beyond book-length authors to celebrate the journalists and columnists whose daily contributions provided the "sparkle" of state life. This recognition of newspaper contributors highlights the democratic and accessible nature of literature in the Pacific Northwest.

The final distillation The concluding pages distill the essence of the work into a selection of memorable lines. This serves as a moral summary, presenting wisdom on everything from motherhood and prayer to the artificiality of sport and the necessity of justice.

The People

The book is populated by a diverse cast of figures who embody the pioneer spirit. Edmond S. Meany stands out as a "hero-worshipper" and educator whose rigorous work in history provides the state with its narrative legitimacy. Ezra Meeker appears as a central, almost mythological figure; the aging pioneer, who famously retraced the Oregon Trail in a "schoonermobile," represents the living bridge between the harsh realities of the past and the industrial innovations of the 1916 present.

Other key figures include Ella Higginson, celebrated as the "sweetest singer" of the region, whose poetry and prose serve as the emotional heart of the book. Her work reflects a deep, almost religious connection to the physical beauty of the Northwest. We also encounter figures like the "K. C. B." columnist Kenneth C. Beaton, who brings a note of urban, journalistic empathy to the list, showing how the state’s literature also thrived in the daily columns of city newspapers. These individuals are united by their dedication to their craft, often balancing the demands of "home-making and family-raising" with the intellectual labor of writing. They are presented as active, earnest participants in the building of a culture, where writing is treated not as a passive hobby, but as a vital contribution to the character of a new society.

In Its Own Voice

"The adventures of today become the history of tomorrow."

This observation from the foreword sets the tone for the author's argument that recording the mundane experiences of the pioneer is a vital act of historical preservation.

"No one writer has ever described Alaska. No one writer can ever describe it, but each must do his share according to the spell the country casts upon him."

The compiler uses this quote from Ella Higginson to illustrate the vastness of the Pacific Northwest and the necessity of a collective literary effort to capture its scale.

"The mountain-lover does not always gaze at Rainier and Olympus. He has learned that the foot-hills have a charm and an interest of their own."

This line from a featured club story serves as a metaphor for the book’s overall approach, suggesting that even the smaller, less prominent writers contribute to a greater whole.

What It's Really About

At its core, this book is an argument for the cultural maturity of a young state. It posits that the true wealth of a region is not measured solely in industrial output or railway lines, but in the scope and character of its literature. The underlying question is how a people, recently removed from the hardships of the frontier, define themselves through the stories they tell about their land and their neighbors. It explores the tension between the harsh reality of "the struggle for bread" and the need for beauty, idealism, and moral reflection. The book implicitly asks: what is the duty of the writer to their home? It answers that the writer's duty is to serve as both witness and conscience, grounding their work in the specificities of local geography and history.

Why Read It Today

Readers who enjoy literary history, archival research, or the specific aesthetic of the early twentieth-century American West will find this book deeply rewarding. It offers a rare, unfiltered look at the preoccupations of the era—from the reverence for pioneer missionaries to the Victorian-era sentimentality found in its poetry. It is a warm, unpretentious document that captures a moment in time when the act of writing was viewed as a civic duty.

However, modern readers should be prepared for the period attitudes embedded in the text. The book reflects the racial and social biases of 1916, particularly in its romanticized view of "Indian lore" and its sometimes patronizing tone toward indigenous history. Additionally, the writing is heavily episodic; it is a bibliography and a directory, not a continuous narrative, meaning it is best appreciated as a reference work or a historical artifact rather than a traditional story. The prose is earnest and occasionally prone to the flowery, moralizing style of its time, particularly in the "lines worth knowing" section. Despite these constraints, the book remains a fascinating testament to a time when a state was still learning to describe itself, providing a glimpse into the hearts and minds of those who laid the foundations of the Northwest.