...or maybe a bit of both. This is a simply fabulous book that talks about John Peabody Harrington's noble fight to record the dying languages of the dying Southwest Indian cultures -- and his utter lack of understanding when it comes to the needs of humans, particularly his wife. It's got love, sex, drama, linguistics -- what more can you ask for in a book? I've read it over and over, yet I will read it again, I'm sure.

I picked up this book not really knowing what it was about, but as soon as I began reading, I was hooked. This true story was written when the author was in her 70s. She depicts the life of a student of anthropolgy early in the 20th century, and the indiginous people on the west coast whose history she and her famous husband were trying to preserve. More fascinating, however, is the love story which creeps into the narrative almost without the reader realizing it. It is an intimate story of two people who, according to the culture at the time, should never have been together, but who found a simple and profound joy in being together. The author's strength of character shines through this book.

I was married to Carobeths grandson. I disagree with the other 2 reviews. Carobeth was a proud, highly intelligent woman who's special ability to learn language was just what Harrington was looking for. He set her up to record the languages and moved on to the next village. The two of them compiled the only known documentation of many California Indian languages and mythology. True, he was obsessed, but aren't all researchers?

Carobeth, like many older people, was raised to be independant and self sufficient. The gradual loss of these abilities played tricks on her mind and caused her deep depression and finally sporadic loss of contact with reality. Read about the miracle that eventually saved her sanity.