Almost every sentence of this book is truly a miniature miracle. It serves as an outstanding primer for would-be writers of any genre. It's extremely difficult to determine what left a deeper impression on me. Was it the keen observations that Dillard made throughout a year, both around, on, and in the creek? Or was it her wonderful writing style that simply captivates the reader? Maybe it was her evolving philosophy of life that provides profound insights. Or perhaps it was her vast variety of literary allusions that add depth and richness to the text. All of these elements work in harmony to create a truly memorable experience. One that I will most definitely want to return to again and again. I find it rather puzzling as to why it took me such a long time to discover this wonderful volume. It is truly a gem that should not be overlooked.

This book is a display of exuberance and love for the wild nature in its splendor. And of the language. It is truly amazing. It took me some time to read it, but the effort was worthwhile. I am completely urban, and reading Annie Dillard was like going to the forest for a season, to live among bugs, trees, birds, and lead a life far from the city.

Here there are memories, quotes, books, and Dillard's life, away from the worldly noise, dedicated to her thoughts, to her encounters with the wild and unrestrained animal and plant life. It is a complete celebration of life. Very beautiful and special.

The detailed descriptions in the book make you feel as if you are right there in the midst of nature, experiencing its beauty and power. Dillard's use of language is so vivid and precise that it brings the scenes to life in your mind.

Reading this book has not only broadened my perspective on nature but also made me appreciate the simple pleasures of life that we often overlook in the hustle and bustle of the city. It has inspired me to take more time to connect with nature and to find beauty in the ordinary.

⭐️⭐️⭐️

If you find yourself in the mood for a deep reflection on nature that is intertwined with a great deal of philosophy and spiritual musings (such as where divinity fits into the grand scheme of things?), then this book might just be the perfect choice for you. It is not a read that can be rushed through or easily digested. Instead, it is a thought-provoking piece that compels the reader to pause and engage in serious contemplation.

Annie Dillard was only 27 years old when she made the decision to live alone for two years in a cabin nestled in Virginia's Blue Ridge Mountains. The book follows, more or less chronologically, a year of her life as she observes nature in all its forms, from the tiniest of insects to birds and smaller mammals. One of her conclusions that really struck me was the profound realization that nearly all living things are either "being nibbled on or nibbling on" something.

I purchased this E-book way back in 2015, and I'm happy to say that I've finally made it through and can truly say "I've been there, read that!" It took me quite a while, but it was well worth the effort.

The ATY Goodreads Challenge - 2023
Prompt #23 - a book with a body of water in the title

Hmmmmm

2.5 stars

This was an interesting read. The prose, however, seemed to be all over the place. It was only in the last few chapters that I started to notice a semblance of structure. I'm not entirely sure if it was because I had accidentally gotten used to the author's unique thought process or if there was indeed some genuine structure emerging.

Overall, this lack of a consistent structure really affected my experience with the book. While there were some good snippets of writing here and there, the stream-of-consciousness style made it difficult for me to follow at times, let alone fully enjoy or appreciate.

To be honest, I truly believe that this book just wasn't meant for me. The only way I could get through it was by reading it in small fragments over the course of several weeks. It felt like a bit of a struggle at times, but I'm glad I was able to finish it and form my own opinion.

Thomas Merton wrote, 'There is always a temptation to diddle around in the contemplative life, making itsy-bitsy statues.' In all of life, there is an enormous temptation to engage in琐碎的 activities, such as making itsy-bitsy friends, preparing itsy-bitsy meals, and taking itsy-bitsy journeys year after year. It is so self-conscious and seemingly moral to step aside from the gaps where the creeks and winds pour down, saying, 'I never merited this grace,' and then to sulk along the rest of your days on the edge of rage. But I won't have it. The world is wilder in all directions, more dangerous and bitter, yet also more extravagant and bright. We are making hay when we should be making whoopee; we are raising tomatoes when we should be raising Cain, or Lazarus.

Ezekiel excoriates false prophets as those who have 'not gone up into the gaps.' The gaps are the essence of things. They are the spirit's one home.

The universe was not made in jest but in solemn incomprehensible earnest. By a power that is unfathomably secret, holy, and fleet. There is nothing to be done about it but to ignore it or to see. And then you walk fearlessly, eating what you must, growing wherever you can, like the monk on the road who knows precisely how vulnerable he is, who takes no comfort among death-forgetting men, and who carries his vision of vastness and might around in his tunic like a live coal which neither burns nor warms him, but with which he will not part.

This passage by Merton challenges us to break free from the mundane and embrace the wild and unknown. It encourages us to step into the gaps and experience the fullness of life. The monk serves as an example of someone who lives fearlessly, unafraid of vulnerability and unyielding in his vision. We too can choose to see the world for what it truly is and live a life of purpose and passion.

Oh my god!

I have just completed this book, and there is not a great deal that I can express regarding it, as I am still firmly in the clutches of its quiet and beautiful power. If you wish to know what it is about, it would be advisable to read the reviews of others. Here, I can only inform you that my life has been transformed by having read this book. I will never view the world in the same manner again, and I will make the most of every single day that I have.

Annie Dillard serves as a reminder to me that even if I were to live for a thousand years and write every single day, I would never be able to achieve this simple and perfect beauty. However, I have no intention of ever ceasing my attempts.

---

Addendum!

Now that I have been able to digest this book to a greater extent, I feel ready to add a few remarks.

Some people have contended that this book is broadly about theology or specifically about theodicy (that is, the effort to reconcile the concept of a loving personal God with a cruel and cold natural world). I do not believe this to be the case. Annie Dillard may very well have written Pilgrim at Tinker Creek with the intention of it being about theology or theodicy, and to her, it may indeed be a treatise on those themes. However, it is crafted in such an accessible manner that it is equally about the absence of a God in the universe and the independence of nature, provided that is the way you approach nature on a personal level. The Bible and other Abrahamic-religious sources are frequently quoted, but so are field guides, nature writers, and poets; and they are all quoted in such vivid and touching ways that anyone can relate to the message contained within. To Dillard, the Bible is simply another source from which to draw understanding of human nature or of humanity's place in nature. When Dillard writes directly about God, it is not to preach to the reader or even to assume. It is to question, to imagine, to ask the reader whether she is God and whether she has completed Creation yet.

This book is not about any particular point of theology. It is about mystery: the mystery of existence, of being alert and aware, of seeing and experiencing. The mystery of life's brevity and life's beauty. It is one of the finest, most touching, and most human books that I have ever read, and undoubtedly one to which I will return whenever I require comfort or whenever I simply wish to know that I am not the only one who loves the world so passionately or who ponders so many things.

I truly love this book, yet it also frustrates me to no end. Perhaps the reason lies in the fact that Dillard was astonishingly young when she penned it. However, it is unjust to compare it with Walden. Thoreau, in my opinion, comes across as rather arrogant, believing he has a ready-made solution for every single problem plaguing society. On the other hand, Dillard poses tough questions and agonizes deeply over their answers. For her, it is never a simple or straightforward matter.

I am certain that I will read her books time and time again, as they offer such profound insights and a unique perspective. But as for Thoreau, I might have reached the end of my exploration with his works.

While both authors have their merits, Dillard's approach and the way she grapples with complex ideas resonate more strongly with me. Her writing makes me think, question, and reflect, and that is something I highly value in a book.

I want to preface with admitting that I am not the intended audience for this book. While I do enjoy going on day hikes from time to time, I'm not really a die-hard nature person.

Pilgrim at Tinker Creek reminded me a great deal of Thoreau's Walden (that book you read in high school and can only recall the seemingly endless pages about beans and bean farming). However, instead of being fixated on beans, Dillard appears to be obsessed with the rather gruesome sight of animals and insects being eaten alive or having their heads bitten off by other animals or insects.

Things I liked:
This book is set roughly a two-hour drive from the area where I grew up. (No, I have not actually been there.)
It is evident that Dillard is extremely passionate about the subject matter she is writing about.

Things I disliked:
Pretty much everything else.
Did she really have to go into such excruciating detail about a frog having the life literally sucked out of it? It was a bit too much for my taste.

Overall, while the book had its moments, it just wasn't quite my cup of tea. I can see how others might find it fascinating, but for me, it was a bit of a struggle to get through.

No, I have gone through this countless times. Beauty is not a hoax. How many days have I learned not to stare at the back of my hand when I could gaze out at the creek? Come on, I say to the creek, surprise me. And it does, with each new drop. Beauty is real. I would never deny it. The appalling thing is that I forget it.

After reading this book, I have an intense desire to buy a fish. The description in the book has awakened my longing for that little aquatic creature. I can just imagine the beauty it would bring to my life.

I also definitely plan on reading this again. There is something so captivating about the words and the story that I know I will discover new depths and meanings with each reread. It has left such an impression on me that I can't wait to immerse myself in it once more.

**"Pilgrim at Tinker Creek" by Annie Dillard: A Captivating Exploration of Nature**

Pilgrim at Tinker Creek by Annie Dillard, the winner of the 1975 Pulitzer for non-fiction, is truly a remarkable work that offers a rich sensory experience. Dillard's enthusiasm for the abundance, complexity, and variety in nature is palpable and leaves a lasting impression.

Dillard immerses herself in the flora and fauna of Tinker Creek, meticulously documenting its seasonal transformations. Her observations are not only intense but also presented in a dense prose style, with details piled upon details. At times, this can make the reading feel a bit laborious and overly focused on minutiae. However, it also showcases her unwavering commitment to understanding and presenting the natural world in all its glory. She questions, probes, and draws connections, leaving no stone unturned in her exploration.

When describing the beauty, bounty, wonder, and diversity of nature, Dillard's words take flight, echoing the style of Gerard Manley Hopkins' "Pied Beauty." Her writing technique leans towards stream of consciousness, as she makes associations and often takes wild and sometimes perplexing mental leaps. This adds an element of excitement and unpredictability to the narrative, making it a truly engaging read.

Throughout the book, Dillard weaves in anecdotes about nature, the words of philosophers and theologians, citations from sacred texts, and insights from botanists, zoologists, and entomologists. Her intense observations in nature trigger profound spiritual musings and meditations on life and creation. While she communes with nature, her tendency to insert herself and her reactions into nearly every scene can be a bit intrusive, sometimes overshadowing the beauty of nature itself.

Despite these minor flaws, Dillard's book is highly recommended for its敏锐的observation and exuberant celebration of the diversity and beauty of the natural world. As she so vividly shows us, the wonders of nature are right at our fingertips, waiting for us to have the patience to pause, see, listen, touch, and smell. Her work serves as a reminder of the importance of reconnecting with the natural world and finding inspiration and meaning in its simplest forms.

My book reviews are also available at www.tamaraaghajaffar.com

Sometimes I was like: what?

It was a moment of confusion, as if my mind had suddenly gone blank and I couldn't quite understand what was happening around me.

Other times I was like: what!

This was a more intense reaction, a combination of shock and surprise. It was as if something had completely caught me off guard and I was left speechless.

And then there was that random thought: Mr. Water Bug pls suck my brains out next.

I don't know where it came from, but it just popped into my head. Maybe it was a way to express my frustration or boredom.

In any case, these are the random thoughts and reactions that sometimes go through my mind.

They may not make much sense, but they are a part of who I am.

Pulitzer 4 for year. Part of my personal Pulitzer challenge is to read winners in all genres. As someone who leans towards nonfiction, I've actually read more nonfiction and biography winners at this point than fiction winners. That's why I'm spending the year reading a lot of fiction winners. Fortunately, I find these books to be well-written or at least uniquely constructed, even if the subject matter isn't something I would typically choose.

Since spring is in the air, at least where I live, I decided to read a winner that explores the changing of seasons in one locale as my nonfiction winner for this month. Annie Dillard comes from an affluent family in Pittsburgh. In her twenties, she already knew she would write, but the only question was what and where. After moving to a rural area near the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia, Dillard found her subject: a year as an observer of nature from her home.

While not my first choice of nonfiction, I do associate nature with the rebirth that occurs in spring, even though Dillard writes about the beauty of each season. This year, I need spring and then some, playfully asking for a refund for the first two months of the year. On a rainy day that could have easily been snow a month ago, I wanted to get myself more into the spring mindset, something I've needed since the first day of autumn six months ago.

Annie Dillard wrote about her time at Tinker Creek when she was young, aged twenty-seven, and a budding writer. Her sentence construction is as elegant as that of the best literary fiction writers, and one might think that Dillard wanted to write a novel. That came later in her career, after she earned the label of essayist, even though she claimed that Tinker Creek is not essays but a path around the seasons. Due to the subject matter, however, the literary community viewed her writing as essays.

Later in her career, critics dubbed The Writing Life as essays, even though Dillard proclaimed this work to be a memoir of her writing process. I read The Writing Life for an assignment in high school and found it boring. It's not meant for teenagers, although because both of these books are praised for their prose, they are overly assigned in schools. Dillard's nonfiction undergoes a transformation from Tinker Creek, where she writes in longer sentences, to her later work that gets straight to the point.

When writing about nature, sentences should flow because of the serenity of immersing oneself in the outdoors. Dillard admittedly wanted to emulate Thoreau in her early writing venture. While Tinker Creek catalogues her observations of nature, it reads more like a journal than a book, albeit a journal that Dillard wanted others to immerse themselves in. Thoreau perhaps viewed Walden from a similar perspective. Both works are now lauded as treatises on nature.

Dillard lived in a cabin between Tinker and Carvin Creeks in Virginia. She could see Tinker Creek from her backyard and Tinker Mountain from her porch and windows. For those who enjoy a rustic life, the vista sounds beautiful. She notes growing up in Pittsburgh and doesn't miss much besides Major League Baseball. Even though I'm not one to live in nature due to my baseball fanaticism, Dillard almost sounds like my kind of person.

Her musings reveal her to be an agnostic, and she spent hours, too many for my liking, observing snakes and insects. In real life, I don't want to be anywhere near a snake or insect. My favorite insect is the ladybug, which sadly gets no mention here. Despite the detailed descriptions of these critters, I kept reading, not because I enjoyed the subject matter. The narrative is, for lack of a better word, beautiful. I could never have read about the parasitic relationship between organisms in a science journal. The same goes for the life cycle of various insects, except maybe the butterfly, because in the end, some appear majestic. Dillard makes these occurrences seem as natural as they are supposed to be.

Sadly, as Dillard got older, she shed her literary showiness. This is what made Tinker Creek memorable for me. Besides the insects and snakes, Dillard takes the time to briefly relate about life in her neck of the woods. She does have neighbors, and they do attempt to organize baseball games in the spring. Most, if not all, residents plant their own gardens, and many raise animals for meat as well. Birds come to feed and warble, causing Dillard to pause and think about the purpose of a bird's singing.

She discusses a flood during the aftermath of Hurricane Agnes and how nature eventually recalibrated itself. Dillard feels an affinity for the Eskimos and discusses how they lived as one with nature. Perhaps she studied them in college, but she doesn't say. Even though it doesn't get that cold in Virginia, as autumn changed to winter, she describes with wonderment the aurora borealis and bird migration south. Apparently, birds take a detour over Lake Superior because prior to the glaciers, the lake was home to the highest mountain in North America.

Bird behavior fascinates me more than the insects and snakes. I wish she had written more about them, but they are not her neighbors; the critters are. Additionally, she described the caribou herds, the behavior of seals and orca, and the construction of igloos. Maybe Dillard would have felt more at home in the Yukon; she never does say.

In the 1970s, the study of nature and environmentalism gained momentum. Green-inclined people preached about overpopulation, sustainable food production, and celebrated the first Earth Day. I can see why the Pulitzer committee would award Pilgrim at Tinker Creek as a winner. At the time, Annie Dillard was only twenty-seven years old. A comparison could be made to Carson McCullers, who wrote The Heart is a Lonely Hunter at age twenty-three. Both books are full of excellent prose and tell a uniquely constructed story.

Tinker Creek won an award for nonfiction. Panelists praised the author's age and her ability to make herself one with nature, like Thoreau. She includes biblical references and cites her own questioning of modern religion, another popular aspect of the early 1970s. Annie Dillard could write well. I couldn't appreciate this in high school, and critics even say that her work is not meant for teenagers without the life knowledge to understand it. I do wonder if Tinker Creek would have won the Pulitzer if Dillard had been older at the time or if analysts had viewed the writing as musings rather than essays.

It's refreshing to read a nonfiction winner that isn't a seven-hundred-page biography, although I admit that is more of my comfort zone. A twenty-seven-year-old self-proclaimed agnostic doesn't align with my values, although the prose was beautiful to contemplate as the earth in the northern hemisphere moves into spring.

4 stars