Wednesday, April 20, 2022

reading clearout (april 2022, part one)

Hi,

Let's take a look at a couple of recent reads I won't put into a full review.

Pilgrim at Tinker Creek by Annie Dillard (January 2022)

Dillard's highly decorated 1974 classic - winner of the 1975 Pulitzer Prize, and a constant on all manners of "top book" lists - describes her thoughts and observations as she explores her way around her home in Tinker Creek, Virginia. I have seen this book categorized in all different ways - a nature guide, a travel journal, even a "book of theology" by Dillard herself - but in my opinion this only reveals just how much ground is covered in the inch or two this book will claim on your bookshelf. This book is like many other great nonfiction works where the author skillfully draws the reader into her mind, blurring the distinction of chapters, labels, and genres to recreate the sensation of discovering the world in the uniquely human environment of the mind, heart, and body. However, my high regard for the book doesn't reflect my reading experience, which was a bit start and stop as I struggled to step into the flow of the work. I think there is a reality that in my reading moment books like this one, which extend and expand the natural world into the adjacent unseen wonders accessible by heart and mind, are simply not the best fit with my current interests.

Still, there were plenty of highlights. I liked the comment about the usefulness of verbalizing sight, coming off like a nature guide's approach to mindfulness, where we accept that the eye will miss things unless the viewer deliberately stops to make an acknowledgment. Her point that luxurious city buildings are still full of rats and cockroaches was a good reminder to stay humble in these heady days as I veer dangerously close to earning a "city slicker" label. I think it's also worth a reminder that the danger of urban living is the way it can dull your sense of time, where your life becomes an endless list of excuses to start living tomorrow, next month, next year, a problem naturally averted in the fully present way one must exist in nature. It seems appropriate to close with a nod to Dillard's conclusion that nature's rule seems to be to try everything once, accepting that this will inevitably lead to some wasted effort, which at the very least is a helpful reminder to try different kinds of books.

Gemini by Nikki Giovanni (December 2021)

This collection was released in 1971, a couple years shy of Giovanni's 30th birthday. She is known more for poetry than essays but I think readers who are interested in her work will find enough to like in Gemini. There was a general theme of rootedness in these essays, though I don't mean to suggest it was a singular arc that wove its way through the full work. There were also some good insights into the problems created by poverty and racism, including the observation that if power means the ability to make choices about one's life, then minorities have long been out of power. Since finishing Gemini a few weeks ago, I've thought from time to time about her comment that people will adjust their methods (and expectations) for creating change as son as they gain firsthand knowledge of how other people live their lives (though this is no guarantee that they will change their beliefs). Her note about creators who are venerated for one thing was a wise observation - she points out that the true measure of success is continuing to take necessary risks for the work because creating means continuing to create, even if it means diluting the memory of the good with a more recent example of the bad.