Abbey, Edward (1927–89)

Edward Abbey was a working novelist, philosopher, lover of unfenced country, adventurer, river runner, desert rat, self-proclaimed extremist, redneck, and “agrarian anarchist.” He was a man of many philosophies, peppered with contradictions and complexities. His writings criticized government, technology, corporate greed, and the unfortunate destruction of wilderness, but he also poked fun at vegetarians, made sexist comments, littered beer cans out the window of his automobile, and was a member of the National Rifle Association. James Bishop says, “He was neither left-wing nor right-wing, nor was he an outlaw. Abbey was a genuine rebel who simply did not believe in the moderns' industrial way of life.”

In describing his life's work, Abbey notes, “I wrote once that environmental journalism isn't a very cheerful field of work. But I guess there was a little self-pity in that remark. I've had a hell of a good time with it, actually. I enjoy stirring people up, and I've always enjoyed making certain people angry. I write to amuse my friends and to aggravate our enemies, to give them ulcers, if possible. I make terrible threats that I have no means of carrying out…like getting rid of their Glen Canyon Dam. I like to make the opposition worry and lie awake at night, force them to hire more security guards, and the like.”

Abbey's writings include over 21 books of both fiction and nonfiction. His first nonfiction work, Desert Solitaire, was published in 1968 and beautifully reflects his love of the nature he explored during two summers hiking and camping in southeastern Utah's canyonlands:

One of Abbey's more infamous fictional pieces is the 1975 novel The Monkey Wrench Gang, a comical thrill ride adventure about “eco warriors” Dr. A.K. Sarvis, George W. Hayduke, “Seldom Seen” Smith, and Ms. Bonnie Abbzug. This cast of characters [Page 2]travels around the American Southwest resorting to destructive direct action, or “monkeywrenching,” of power plants, fences, vehicles, and dams to slow technological assaults on the environment. The book fueled a movement of nonviolent direct-action environmentalism; many have even called it the inspiration for the Earth First! movement: “And in that novel I tried to make a clear distinction between sabotage and terrorism. My ‘monkeywrenchers’ were saboteurs, not terrorists. Sabotage is violence against inanimate objects: machinery and property. Terrorism is violence against human beings. I am definitely opposed to terrorism, whether practiced by the military and state—as it usually is—or by what we might call unlicensed individuals.”

Yet not all of Abbey's writings embody runaway cynicism, and often his respect and awe of the natural world shines through in vivid descriptions of plants, canyons, and rivers. Although he refused to call himself a naturalist, Abbey's books can transport readers to remote desert canyons and mountaintop lookouts. Nonetheless, there's always an ethic embodied in his work that the reader might take away in the name of wilderness protection: “A true civilization, for me, embraces tolerance as one of its cardinal virtues: tolerance for free speech and differences of opinion among humans, and tolerance for other forms of life … bugs and plants and crocodiles and gorillas and coyotes and grizzly bears and eagles, and all of the other voiceless, defenseless things everywhere that are in our charge. Any true civilization must provide for those other life-forms. And the only way to do that is to set aside extensive areas of the earth where humans don't interfere, where humans rarely even set foot.”

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