The Invisible Stranger, therefore, becomes nothing less than a meditation on what it means to be human. By becoming the "invisible stranger" and obscuring himself behind the camera's lens, Patten allows his subjects to emerge and then presents them to the viewer, who, seeing these individuals, also sees himself. Banks, too, acts as the "invisible stranger," studying the townspeople from hundreds of miles away and reflecting on the complex relationships between photographer and subject, subject and observer. Taken together, Patten's portraits and Banks's commentary offer a dramatic and provocative combination of word and image.

Instead, the text, while well written, doesn't have much to do with the photographs at all--and that's a shame.

On the other hand the photographs are truly wonderful and they communicate for themselves. They show how compelling Black and White portraits can be. If you like Black and White portraits, buy this book for the photography. And if you enjoy Russell Banks' musings on the meaning of life, so much the better.


Heartening.   November 4, 1999
In response to what I feel was an undeserved criticism of this book--also being from Maine and in fact a Patten by birth--I would just like to say that quite to the contrary of viewing these photographs and their accompanying text as sad, dire, or despairing, I view them as striking at the heart of what it means to be human, with all its contradictory emotions. I consider this book a testament to a willingness to pause and let experience speak for itself. It may not be "quaint" but it certainly is profound.


all of humanity in one book   October 15, 1999
 1 out of 1 found this review helpful

I suggest one copy of the new Harvard University Press Variorum Edition of Emily Dickinson and this incredible distillation/meditation on the human. Take both to a room somewhere and don't come out until you're haunted. Both evoke Death with a capital D.


A well intended concept falls short of its potential.   August 23, 1999
 4 out of 4 found this review helpful

It's hard to be objective regarding The Invisible Stranger by Russell Banks and Arturo Patten having been raised in Patten, Maine.

When I heard about the book I was rather excited. I left Patten in 1993 to attend college at Seton Hall University in NJ and inevitably stayed in NJ in order to pursue a career in the wilds of Manhattan. Since leaving Patten, I have become a sincere sentimental New Englander and have returned to embrace the wonders of the town in which I was reared.

At best I can be frank about what my expectations of the book were and what the book actually was once I read it.

The concept of someone taking photographs of the residents of Patten, Maine is quite quaint. The thought of someone then looking at the photographs and coming up with a story about all the people made me very excited. After all, I would know the true stories of these people! I would then be able to share this book with my friends that have come to hear all about the town of Patten, Maine and stories that once evoked the question, "Was that soap opera Peyton Place based on Patten?" Not far from the truth, this small Northern Maine town is a veritable treasure trove of deals gone bad and families reared from cradle to grave on the small (insert size) patch of rocky New England earth.

It did not escape my notice that the fact that the photographer's last name is that of the town. I believe that it was that fact that brought Arturo Patten to Patten, Maine. I am sure that he could argue the fact that the roughly hewn landscape and the people who appear to be cut of similar roughly hewn cloth presented a great set of subject matter. But in my mind it was no more than a gimmick for his book. Not that I think that this is an extremely bad thing, after all it made the town that I love the subject!

I think that what upsets me the most is the actual written content. Russell Banks just seems to go on and on with his ego stroking psychobabble about the complexity of man. Oh what lurks behind the hardened stare of a rural New Englander! An example of this being in the last paragraph of the book (one of the few where Patten is even addressed as the subject matter) Banks states, "It is possible that on some long, cold, lonely winter night, each of these good citizens of Patten, Maine, could snap, could descend into a slough of depression and never return, could go crazy? Could he or she awake one morning and, looking around the slowly brightening room, remember with sudden, overwhelming horror what happened last night?"

It's sad that the residents of such a lovely town could be painted in such a dire manner. It's sad that the people who were photographed for this book will forever remain nameless because the authors chose not to acknowledge their true identities. But it is truly the cruelest trick of all that their images will have to sit nestled amongst such dire and depressing text for the rest of eternity. The people of the world will never know the truth about these people. About their moments of kindness or about how despair has touched their lives and yet they have gone on. Russell Banks and Arturo Patten where not kind enough to share those moments.

I am thankful that I have this book. I am thankful that I have beautiful photographs of so many of the people that I grew up around, though to set the record straight not all are from Patten, Maine. But I am most thankful to be fortunate enough to have had the pleasure to have grown up surrounded by them all and to have had the opportunity to know that the misguided postulations of a self-serving writer can never encapsulate even to the smallest degree what kind of people they truly are.


A well intended concept falls short of its potential.   August 23, 1999
 3 out of 3 found this review helpful

It's hard to be objective regarding The Invisible Stranger by Russell Banks and Arturo Patten having been raised in Patten, Maine.

When I heard about the book I was rather excited. I left Patten in 1993 to attend college at Seton Hall University in NJ and inevitably stayed in NJ in order to pursue a career in the wilds of Manhattan. Since leaving Patten, I have become a sincere sentimental New Englander and have returned to embrace the wonders of the town in which I was reared.

At best I can be frank about what my expectations of the book were and what the book actually was once I read it.

The concept of someone taking photographs of the residents of Patten, Maine is quite quaint. The thought of someone then looking at the photographs and coming up with a story about all the people made me very excited. After all, I would know the true stories of these people! I would then be able to share this book with my friends that have come to hear all about the town of Patten, Maine and stories that once evoked the question, "Was that soap opera Peyton Place based on Patten?" Not far from the truth, this small Northern Maine town is a veritable treasure trove of deals gone bad and families reared from cradle to grave on the small (insert size) patch of rocky New England earth.

It did not escape my notice that the fact that the photographer's last name is that of the town. I believe that it was that fact that brought Arturo Patten to Patten, Maine. I am sure that he could argue the fact that the roughly hewn landscape and the people who appear to be cut of similar roughly hewn cloth presented a great set of subject matter. But in my mind it was no more than a gimmick for his book. Not that I think that this is an extremely bad thing, after all it made the town that I love the subject!

I think that what upsets me the most is the actual written content. Russell Banks just seems to go on and on with his ego stroking psychobabble about the complexity of man. Oh what lurks behind the hardened stare of a rural New Englander! An example of this being in the last paragraph of the book (one of the few where Patten is even addressed as the subject matter) Banks states, "It is possible that on some long, cold, lonely winter night, each of these good citizens of Patten, Maine, could snap, could descend into a slough of depression and never return, could go crazy? Could he or she awake one morning and, looking around the slowly brightening room, remember with sudden, overwhelming horror what happened last night?"

It's sad that the residents of such a lovely town could be painted in such a dire manner. It's sad that the people who were photographed for this book will forever remain nameless because the authors chose not to acknowledge their true identities. But it is truly the cruelest trick of all that their images will have to sit nestled amongst such dire and depressing text for the rest of eternity. The people of the world will never know the truth about these people. About their moments of kindness or about how despair has touched their lives and yet they have gone on. Russell Banks and Arturo Patten where not kind enough to share those moments.

I am thankful that I have this book. I am thankful that I have beautiful photographs of so many of the people that I grew up around, though to set the record straight not all are from Patten, Maine. But I am most thankful to be fortunate enough to have had the pleasure to have grown up surrounded by them all and to have had the opportunity to know that the misguided postulations of a self-serving writer can never encapsulate even to the smallest degree what kind of people they truly are.