I like this book slightly less than Dillard's other works. The reason is that she employs other people's words more frequently than her own. For some individuals, this might enhance the book's strength. However, I do miss her being the most prominent presence.

This book combines a French philosopher/Jesuit priest who would later become one of the most significant paleontologists of the 20th century, Hasidic Judaism, scientific information about sand, and a personal journey through the Middle East. But it's not truly about those aspects. Instead, the book is deeply pondering birth, death, existence, and value.

As Dillard writes, "We who breathe air now will join the already dead layers of us who breathed air once. We arise from dirt and dwindle to dirt, and the might of the universe is arrayed against us." She also states, "There were no formerly heroic times, and there was no formerly pure generation. There is no one here but us chickens, and so it has always been: a people busy and powerful, knowledgeable, ambivalent, important, fearful, and self-aware; a people who scheme, promote, deceive, and conquer; who pray for their loved ones, and long to flee misery and skip death."

Furthermore, "You can live as a particle crashing about and colliding in a welter of materials with God, or you can live as a particle crashing about and colliding in a welter of materials without God. But you cannot live outside the welter of colliding materials." And, "We know we must yield, if only intellectually. Okay, we're a lousy snowflake. Okay, we're a tree. These dead loved ones we mourn were only those brown lower branches a tree shades and kills as it grows; the tree itself is thriving. But what kind of tree are we growing here, that could be worth such waste and pain? For each of us loses all we love, everyone we love. We grieve and leave."

Finally, "Ecstasy, I think, is a soul's response to the waves holiness makes as it nears." This book has inspired me to read the letters of Teilard and Lucile Swan.

Annie Dillard delves into the most profound questions regarding our existence. Why do we exist? How can an individual hold significance? Dillard doesn't merely seek to find the answers but rather to explore the very essence of what it means to exist and matter.

Whether she is examining the genetic glitches that lead to human malformations or Teilhard's paleontological investigations in China, she herself is delving deep into the meaning of being a human in a specific place and time, experiencing the history of that particular era and location. At one juncture, she poses the question, "at what number do other individuals blur for me?" Is one death more tragic than a million simply because we struggle to envision the number one million?

This book reads like a beautiful piece of poetry, with the intertwined stories of disfigured children, Teilhard's struggle between science and religion, and the recurring clouds, constantly expanding the questions and the scope of the exploration. Perhaps Dillard's most perceptive moment is her proclamation, "you can live as a particle crashing about and colliding in a welter of material with God, or you can live as a particle crashing about and colliding in a welter of material without God. But you cannot live outside the welter of solid matter."

This book will surely give you an abundance of food for thought for an incredibly long time. It makes you reflect on the nature of our existence, the value of each individual, and the complex relationship between science, religion, and our daily lives.

Well, there are indeed some juicy bits here and there. However, the choppy narrative presents a challenge. But challenging can be good!

OK, to be honest, at times it's more than just challenging. It stretches credulity and gives the impression of being contrived or precious. Worse still, it feels like paint splattered haphazardly on a canvas. "Find meaning, or call my bluff!" the artist taunts. "Fuck off, this is shit, this isn't honest!" I yell back.

That being said, there are also good and lovely bits. Much of the natural description, the spiritual meditations, and most of the historical quotations and mini-biographies - like the Annie Dillard adventure - are truly wonderful. It's just the silly meditations on numbers and the random paragraphs intermixed with the five major themes that grate.

Enough of that. There are some good bits that I don't want to forget.

+ The loess, that "strange golden soil" - the deepest in the world, reaching up to four hundred feet deep. It was the Han center from which Imperial China began with the Qin Dynasty (p 46). Compare it to the dark soil of the Mississippi Delta, formed as a glacier moved over the continent, waiting for the cotton explosion. Meanwhile, China's taxes were being levied on this rich and productive soil for 23 uninterrupted centuries!

+ Bits of life and theology from Teilhard de Chardin, the French paleontologist, explorer, and lively character.

+ Tales from the Hasidim, especially of their joy and dancing.

+ Tales of rabbis: Luria, Akiva, the Baal Shem Tov, the Vilna Gaon, and more.

+ Two horrifically detailed descriptions of flayings: of Rabbi Akiva for teaching Torah by the Romans (135 CE; p. 26); and later of Hyptia (5th century CE; Christians scoop her live flesh with oyster shells and fling it "quivering" into a fire. The crimes were the study of philosophy and mathematics. See Gibbon's and Bertrand Russell's comments on this episode; p. 139.

+ A great description of the partially unearthed clay army of 5,000 of Emperor Qin, twenty feet underground, frozen in time. A great observation that what's most stunning is seeing it there, buried and half-unearthed, getting a sense of how we really and truly live on top of our ancestors and earlier civilizations. It won't be half as remarkable later in a museum.

+ A Mongolian family in the early 20th century teaches toddlers to ride horses by mounting them on SHEEP!!!!! (p 12)

+ Another quote from Giacometti (p 43)

In many ways, it is extremely difficult to explain or review this work by Annie Dillard without actually having the experience of reading it oneself.

To some extent, it is a rather challenging read as it is not structured in the same way as many of the books we commonly encounter. Instead, it is intricately woven together with a handful of themes. Through these themes, Dillard appears to be delving deep into exploring our relationship with God.

Is there truly a God? What characteristics does He possess? Do we have inherent meaning and purpose in life? If there is a God and we indeed have meaning, then how do we reconcile the existence of suffering, pain, and evil in the world?

These are precisely the kinds of questions that Dillard seems to be grappling with in this book. The journey she takes the reader on is fascinating, right down to the unique manner in which she structures her work. However, it is important to note that this is not a journey that reaches a definitive ending within this work. While she may be in search of answers, she shows relatively little interest in providing straightforward solutions.

Nonetheless, it is a remarkable book that has the power to stimulate your thinking and prompt you to reflect on the world we inhabit and on the concept of God.

I have a great admiration for the way Annie Dillard thinks. It truly fascinates me. In this particular book, she delves into profound and weighty questions such as the existence of God, the meaning and significance of life, and many more. What makes it interesting is that she does so within the framework of smaller, more mundane matters. She contemplates on things like sand, clouds, birth defects, and even scientist/priests (or at least one of them).

I firmly believe that I would thoroughly enjoy spending time in the company of Ms. Dillard, engaging in discussions about both the grand and the琐碎的 thoughts that cross our minds.

However, I must admit that I don't think every single thought is of equal value to be written down and explored in great detail, which seems to be the case here. Given that our lives are finite, our capacity for reading is also limited. It would be a pity to squander any part of that capacity on what I consider to be meaningless musings. Regrettably, there is an abundance of such content in this book. This is the reason why, despite having moments of truly five-star thinking, I have given it a three-star rating.

Also, as a spoiler alert, it should be noted that there is actually no such entity as "God" in the way we conventionally define that concept. Therefore, reading a book filled with speculation about God is, to a certain extent, inherently devoid of meaning. I was aware that "God" was a part of "For The Time Being," but I didn't realize before reading that it was the central focus of the book. Now you know.

This is a remarkable book that consists of fragments of history and philosophy, random facts about sand and clouds, and fractured narratives. It is not just a jumble of these elements, however. Annie Dillard attempts to skillfully weave them together, much like a literary version of the Tibetan sand mandala.

She delves into a plethora of profound topics such as life and death, permanence and eternity, individuality in the face of billions, and the question of whether God is responsible for calamity. These are complex questions with no simple answers. Although she inserts a few of her own opinions here and there, by the end, I felt as if I had perused a strange and captivating collection of pages that contained some significant observations amidst a certain amount of extraneous matter. It was not easy for me to distinguish the significant from the superfluous.

To give you a taste, I'll quote a few lines that I marked while reading for various reasons. "There are 1,198,500,000 people alive now in China. To get a feel for what this means, simply take yourself -- in all your singularity, importance, complexity, and love -- and multiply by 1,198,500,000. See? Nothing to it." "Living things from hyenas to bacteria whisk the dead away like stagehands hustling props between scenes." "God is no more blinding people with glaucoma, or testing them with diabetes, or purifying them with spinal pain, or choreographing the seeding of tumor cells through lymph, or fiddling with chromosomes, than he is jimmying floodwaters or pitching tornadoes at towns. God is no more cogitating which among us he plans to place here as bird-headed dwarfs or elephant men...than he is pitching lightning bolts at pedestrians, triggering rock slides, or setting fires... Nature works out its complexities. God suffers the world's necessities along with us, and suffers our turning away, and joins us in exile. Christians might add that Christ hands, as it were, on the cross forever, always incarnate, and always nailed."

Originally posted here: http://www.larynandjanel.com/blog/for-the-time-being-by-annie-dillard

Somehow, just by accident, I happened to read another book about death.

It truly left me in a state of profound awe when I contemplated all the life that surrounds us.

We are constantly living on top of the complex layers of life and death.

The book delved deep into the mysteries and realities of death, making me realize how little we truly understand about this inevitable part of our existence.

It made me reflect on the preciousness of every moment of life and how we often take it for granted.

As I turned the pages, I found myself questioning my own beliefs and perspectives on life and death.

This accidental encounter with the book has opened my eyes to a whole new world of thoughts and emotions, and I will carry this newfound awareness with me as I continue on my life's journey.

It's truly insane how this slender volume manages to touch upon every single aspect of what it means to live and die. It dares to question reality, even though it's known that such a pursuit will ultimately be fruitless and frustrating.

This book gives the impression of being a perfectly constructed collage. It draws from a wide variety of sources to create something that closely resembles a brand new sacred text. Thoughts regarding birth deformities, archaeological digs, Jewish mysticism, death statistics, data about soil deposits, and the wisdom of philosophers, poets, and theologians of all kinds often exist side by side within just a couple of pages. And Dillard effortlessly flits between them.

She is one of those rare authors whose right and left brains seem to be functioning at their peak 24/7. She is a remarkably analytical and thorough critic and researcher. At the same time, she is a wordsmith so poetic and attuned to the beautiful and numinous that her work takes on a visual, colorful quality that few can equal.

This is a truly profound and spiritual (in a secular sense) book.

Dillard poses extremely serious questions regarding the nature of the human experience.

The book description assures that she will inquire into such matters as: “Why do we exist? Where did we come from? How can one person matter?” And indeed, she does this beautifully.

Of course, she doesn't offer tidy answers. After all, who could?

But she frames these questions in a way that is as wonderful as I have ever witnessed.

Dillard's writing - her choice of words, her rhythms, her pacing - is often electrifying.

I frequently found myself reading sentences over and over again simply for their sheer beauty.

Her work has the power to make the reader stop and truly contemplate the deeper aspects of life and existence.

It challenges us to think beyond the ordinary and to explore the mysteries that lie within and around us.

This book is not just a collection of words; it is a journey of the mind and soul.

Breathtaking. Dillard is truly one of a kind, unlike any other writer I am acquainted with. In "For The Time Being", she engages in a mighty struggle, to our great advantage, with the profound question "what's the point of it all?" Her diverse cast consists of a paleontologist, a deceased Chinese emperor, a neonatal nurse, a Kabbalist rabbi, and at times, even you. Each of these characters offers a distinct perspective on what it means to be alive, to interact with one another, and to search for purpose as an individual in the vast ocean of existence.

The answers, or rather, the scenes that unfold, are filled with unexpected juxtapositions that are, by turns, heart-wrenching, sublime, jarring, disturbing, and thrilling. A word of caution: do not anticipate Dillard to present neatly packaged thoughts that can be easily chewed and digested like hors d'oeuvres. Instead, expect 600-lb gorillas and be prepared to grapple with them. This does not imply that her writing is晦涩难懂 - far from it. However, you will find yourself pausing after certain scenes and interjections, asking yourself "Why did she put that there? What connection does it have with the previous scene?" The effort you invest in uncovering these unexpected cross-pollinations is precisely what makes her work so deeply satisfying.

**Original Article**: This is a short article. It is simple but interesting. It can make you think.

**Expanded Article**:
This is a short article.

It may seem simple at first glance, but upon closer inspection, it is actually quite interesting.

The ideas presented within it have the power to make you think deeply and reflect on various aspects of life.

It is not just a piece of text to be read and forgotten, but rather something that should be read again and again.

Each time you read it, you may discover new nuances and interpretations that you missed before.

So, take your time, read it carefully, and let the words sink in.

You may be surprised at how much this simple yet interesting article can impact your thoughts and perspectives.

It truly is a gem that is worth revisiting time and time again.

Seeing the open pits in the open air, among farms, is truly a wonder. It's fascinating to witness the bodies twisting free from the soil. However, when a cleaned clay soldier stands upright in a museum case, it seems unremarkable. And this is all that future generations will likely see. No one will display those men who are crushed beyond repair, or their loose parts, or them crawling from the walls. Future generations will unfortunately miss the crucial sight of ourselves as rammed earth.

The first Chinese emperor, Emperor Qin, commissioned 8000 unique clay soldiers to be created and buried alongside his corpse instead of using live soldiers as was the custom then. Fast forward 2000 years, and my younger daughter, intrigued by the commercials for the Terracotta Warriors display at the Royal Ontario Museum, convinced us to visit the city and see the statues. Despite the captivating history of the artefacts, they were presented in a sterile way, behind glass cases with no photography allowed. Fortunately, as the site in China is still being excavated, it appears that some of the statues can still be seen "crawling from the walls" of the dig site.

In For The Time Being, Annie Dillard revisits the question that has likely inspired much of her nonfiction writing: How can an all-powerful God allow suffering? This question has haunted Dillard throughout her life. Although she seemed satisfied with the answer from C. S. Lewis in An American Childhood, here she quotes Lewis again, along with other philosophers, still seeking a more satisfactory response. Dillard's quote, "Why do you never find anything written about that idiosyncratic thought you advert to, about your fascination with something no one else understands? Because it is up to you. There is something you find interesting, for a reason hard to explain. It is hard to explain because you have never read it on any page; there you begin. You were made and set here to give voice to this, your own astonishment," may explain her obsession with this question.

The book is structured in a rigid way, with each chapter divided into sections labeled birth-sand-China-clouds-numbers-Israel-encounters-thinker-evil-now. Each section is filled with what seem like random facts, such as information on human birth defects, the making of a grain of sand, the nature of clouds in art history, paleontology, Kabala and Hasidism, the scale of human tragedy, and random encounters with people and literature. The book makes the case that while God may notice the fall of the smallest sparrow, we humans are no more important or permanent than the clouds in the sky, the grains of sand on the beach, or the buried clay soldiers.

There are several interesting quotes in the book. For example, "There were no formerly heroic times, and there was no formerly pure generation. There is no one here but us chickens, and so it has always been: a people busy and powerful, knowledgeable, ambivalent, important, fearful, and self-aware; a people who scheme, promote, deceive, and conquer; who pray for their loved ones, and long to flee misery and skip death. It is a weakening and discoloring idea, that rustic people knew God personally once upon a time - or even knew selflessness or courage or literature - but that it is too late for us. In fact, the absolute is available to everyone in every age. There never was a more holy age than ours, and never a less." Another quote is, "There might well be a rough angel guarding this ward, or a dragon, or an upwelling current that dashes boats on rocks. There might well be an old stone cairn in the hall by the elevators, or a well, or a ruined shrine wall where people still hear bells. Should we not remove our shoes, drink potions, take baths? For this is surely the wildest deep-sea vent on the earth: This is where the people come out."

While there were many interesting facts and fine writing in For The Time Being, I didn't really like the book. It may have been too idiosyncratic, more of a vanity project than something meant for public consumption. At any rate, I'm not the intended audience. I've enjoyed reading Annie Dillard this year and have encountered some dense writing in her books, but this was the first time I found her dull. More than once, Dillard includes quotes that she finds confusing, such as "Here is a puzzler from Teilhard: 'The souls of men form, in some manner, the incandescent surface of matter plunged in God.' That people, alone of all beings, possess souls is crucial to Teilhard's thought. Crucial also is the incandescence of matter -- its filling the universe to the exclusion of all spirit and spirits, and its blazing from within. Still: What does this sentence mean?"

In the end, I'm left not completely understanding Dillard, and the layers of her writing are too deep for me to fully excavate. However, I did appreciate the bits that she includes that speak to the idiosyncratic thoughts that I also have. For example, "Without a doubt, time is an accident," Maimonides said, "one of the created accidents, such as blackness and whiteness." Also, "We are food, like rolled sandwiches, for the Greek god Chronos, time, who eats his children." And, "Ours is a planet sown in beings. Our generations overlap like shingles. We don't fall in rows like hay, but we fall. Once we get here, we spend forever on the globe, most of it tucked under. While we breathe, we open time like a path in the grass. We open time as a boat's stem slits the crest of the present."

It's interesting that I read this book so soon after Hawking's A Brief History Of Time, in which he states, "According to this theory [strong anthropic principle], there are either many different universes or many different regions of a single universe, each with its own initial configuration and, perhaps, with its own set of laws of science. In most of these universes the conditions would not be right for the development of complicated organisms; only in the few universes that are like ours would intelligent beings develop and ask the question: 'Why is the universe the way we see it?' The answer is then simple: If it had been different, we would not be here!" Perhaps the strong anthropic principle also applies to God: Suffering is allowed on small and large scales because only those who are capable of suffering have the intelligence to ask the question, "Why?"