Annie Dillard takes us on a journey to both panoramic landscapes and amusingly absurd situations. She does so in a way that is both captivating and thought-provoking.

Interestingly, while she shares these experiences with us, she also subtly bares parts of herself, but at a careful distance. It's as if she has contemplated these aspects of herself thousands of times over a long period, only daring to put them into words when she feels absolutely ready.

She provides a rather lengthy quote where she reflects on a memory of her daughter as a child. It was a fine but uneventful day in the Appalachians. In this reflection, she ponders the nature of her daughter's existence. Her daughter seemed real enough to herself, willful and conscious. However, she had to consider the possibility, even the likelihood, that she was a short-lived phenomenon. She was like a fierce, vanishing thing, much like a hard shower, or a transitional form such as a tadpole or a winter bud. She wasn't the thing in itself but rather a running start on the thing.

Annie Dillard further contemplates the idea that her daughter was being borne helplessly and against all her wishes towards suicide, towards the certain loss of self and all that she held dear. This particular combination of love for Walter Milligan, hatred of her sister and piano lessons, and other aspects of her daughter's life would vanish, destroyed against her wishes by her own hand.

She then poses a series of questions. When her daughter changes, where will that other person have gone? Could anyone keep her alive, this person here on the street, and her passions? Will the unthinkable adult that she would become remember her? Will she think she is stupid? Will she laugh at her? These questions add a layer of depth and complexity to her reflection, making us wonder about the nature of identity, change, and the passage of time.

Fascinating, at times poetic, and then again completely abstract and incomprehensible.

This description seems to fit a wide variety of things. It could refer to a piece of art that elicits strong emotions and yet leaves the viewer puzzled. Or perhaps a scientific theory that is so complex that it defies easy understanding.

Maybe it's a person whose actions and words are a mystery, captivating those around them while remaining an enigma.

Whatever it is, this quality of being both fascinating and incomprehensible has a certain allure. It makes us want to explore further, to try and解开 the mystery.

It challenges our minds and forces us to think in new and different ways.

And in the end, even if we never fully understand, the journey of trying can be a rewarding one.

What begins as clear, descriptive accounts of nature, animals, geology, brief holidays, and her church very gradually and intentionally transform into confusion and uncertainty.

Some tales commence with the observation of an eclipse or the study of trees on an island and somehow evolve into the contemplation of the world and the unknown. She peers through the telescope lens, changes the perspective, and then plunges into lens-related distorted realities. I was oscillating between fascination and confusion.

I truly relished the book, especially the section about mangroves creating their own islands - quite random, isn't it? The lower rating was attributed to the confusion. I have a voracious appetite for clarity. The religious elements didn't appeal to me either, yet I was still glad to read about them as part of the character development.

I would recommend this to individuals who have a penchant for dystopian stories as well as to religious individuals who delight in pondering the mysteries of the world.

This one was recommended by readers I trust,

but I simply couldn't like it no matter how much I tried.

There are indeed very nice bits here and there.

However, those bits are unfortunately smothered by the essays' constant habit of insisting on themselves.

Sometimes it is done explicitly, but more often through precious repetitions.

The use of heavy, obvious images and symbols also detracts from the overall quality.

Moreover, the tortured syntax that seems to say, 'Here comes something meaningful' just doesn't work.

There is a lot of self-indulgence, self-consciousness, coyness, and a so-called 'voice' that all seem to be filling in the voids of thought.

Maybe the most damning thing to be said, and there are instances of this on almost every page, is that many phrases, sometimes entire sentences, are simply unintelligible.

If you're reading quickly, they might make an approximate kind of sense, but a closer look reveals nothing but nonsense.

It's really a pity that such a work couldn't live up to the expectations raised by the recommendations.

I have a profound love for Dillard's writing, yet it is predominantly in the nonfiction realm. I made an attempt to read one of her novels, but alas, I couldn't manage it. However, I could happily immerse myself in her meanderings about nature and life for all eternity. I firmly believe that I'll never come across anything that can surpass Pilgrim at Tinker Creek. Nevertheless, Teaching A Stone To Talk was still a lovely piece. Here are some of my favorite moments:

"The mind desires to live forever, or to discover a truly excellent reason why not. It yearns for the world to reciprocate its love or awareness. The mind aspires to know the entire world, all of eternity, and God. Its sidekick, on the other hand, would be content with two eggs over easy. The dear, simple body is as easily satisfied as a spaniel."

"What distinguishes a cathedral from a physics lab? Aren't they both essentially saying: Hello?"

"That is precisely why I take walks: to keep a watchful eye on things."

"If all these passions of mine are overturned, then what will become of me? Then what am I now?"

Here is an entire passage:

"God does not impose a demand on us to relinquish our personal dignity, to align ourselves with random individuals, to lose ourselves and turn away from all that is not Him. God requires nothing, asks for nothing, and demands nothing, much like the stars. It is a life with God that makes these demands.

Experience has taught the human race that if knowledge of God is the end, then these habits of life are not the means but the condition in which the means functions. You are not obligated to do these things; not in the slightest. God, I regret to inform you, couldn't care less. You don't have to engage in these activities—unless, of course, you wish to know God. They have an impact on you, not on Him.

You don't have to sit outside in the darkness. However, if you desire to gaze at the stars, you will find that darkness is essential. But the stars neither necessitate nor demand it."

First, Dillard. I am very happy to start with this one.

Stark, completely unsentimental, yet piercing, and there is a certain levity and archness to it. It's all about nature, nature, nature.

My favorite essays include "Living like Weasels", which is a fascinating exploration. "An Expedition to the Pole" - are you actually kidding me? It's quite an interesting piece. "Lenses" offers unique perspectives. "Total Eclipse" is utter madness in the best way. "God in the Doorway" is thought-provoking. And "Aces and Eights" is devastating, bitter, and yet glittery, with a certain allure.

Each of these essays has its own charm and leaves a lasting impression. They take the reader on different journeys and make us think about various aspects of life and nature.

Dillard's writing is truly remarkable, and these essays are just a small sample of her talent.

I look forward to delving deeper into her works and uncovering more of the gems she has to offer.

We are here on this planet only once in our lifetime.

Therefore, it is essential that we make the most of this opportunity and truly get a sense of the place we call home.

We should not limit ourselves to just the well-known and popular areas but also explore the fringes and hollows where life unfolds in its unique ways.

For it is in these often overlooked corners that we can discover the true essence of life.

Just like anywhere else, life in these places is always and necessarily lived in detail.

Every small moment, every interaction, and every experience adds up to create a rich tapestry of existence.

By taking the time to understand and appreciate these details, we can gain a deeper understanding of the world around us and our place within it.

So let us not rush through life but rather slow down and soak in the beauty and complexity that surrounds us at every turn.

AN EXPEDITION TO THE POLE:
God does not demand that we give up our personal dignity, that we throw in our lot with random people, that we lose ourselves and turn from all that is not him. God needs nothing, asks nothing, and demands nothing, like the stars. It is a life with God which demands these things.

Experiences has taught the race that if knowledge of God is the end, then these habits of life are not the means but the condition in which the means operates. You do not have to do these things; not at all. God does not, I regret to report, give a hoot. You do not have to do these things--unless you want to know God. They work on you, not on him.

You do not have to sit outside in the dark. If, however, you want to look at the stars, you will find that darkness is necessary. But the stars neither require nor demand it.

The eighteenth-century Hasidic Jews had more sense, and more belief. One Hasidic slaughterer, whose work required invoking the Lord, bade a tearful farewell to his wife and children every morning before he set out for the slaughterhouse. He felt, every morning, that he would never see any of them again. For every day, as he himself stood with his knife in his hand, the words of his prayer carried him into danger. After he called on God, God might notice and destroy him before he had time to utter the rest, "Have mercy."

Another Hasid, a rabbi, refused to promise a friend to visit him the next day: "How can you ask me to make such a promsie? This evenign I must pray and recite 'Hear, O Israel.' When I say these words, my soul goes out to the utmost rim of life.... Perhaps I shall not die this time either, but how can I now promise to do something at a time after the prayer?"

TOTAL ECLIPSE:
The mind--the culture--has two little tools, grammar and lexicon: a decorated sand bucket and a matching shovel. With these we bluster about the continents and do all the world's work. With these we try to save our very lives.

LIFE ON THE ROCKS: THE GALAPAGOS
So the rocks shape life, and then life shapes life, and the rocks are moving. The completed picture needs one more element: life shapes the rocks.

This text presents various thoughts and ideas. From the exploration of the relationship between God and humans in "AN EXPEDITION TO THE POLE", to the description of the tools of the mind in "TOTAL ECLIPSE", and finally to the cycle of how life and rocks interact in "LIFE ON THE ROCKS: THE GALAPAGOS". Each part offers a unique perspective on different aspects of existence and the forces that shape our world. The Hasidic Jews' beliefs and practices add a touch of depth and authenticity to the discussion about the relationship with God. The idea that the stars neither require nor demand darkness to be seen is a thought-provoking analogy for our own spiritual journey. Overall, this collection of texts invites us to reflect on the nature of life, the role of belief, and the power of our minds.

I have a deep affection for reading the works of an individual who appears to be just as hypersensitive to the world surrounding them as I am.

Despite this, they opt to journey to destinations such as the Galapagos, the Amazon, and Appalachia, confronting the splendor and abundance of creation regardless.

In my view, these are tales of courage.

Living among the strange and the beautiful while simultaneously attempting to fathom one's own mortality, religion, and sense of self in a silent world is no easy feat.

It requires a great deal of strength and determination.

The author's ability to venture into these unknown and often challenging environments and still find meaning and inspiration is truly remarkable.

Their works offer a unique perspective on the world and serve as a reminder of the power and beauty that exists within it.

Reading their stories allows me to vicariously experience these adventures and gain a deeper understanding of the human condition.

I am constantly in awe of their courage and the profound insights they share through their writing.

Dillard is truly the ballerina of nature writing, yet she is completely without pretentiousness.

Every sentence she crafts exudes grace, and each word is both surprising and exact. There are times when I find myself so immersed in the details and metaphors that I lose the path of the writing and become lost. However, other times, this immersion pays off handsomely.

“Total Eclipse” holds a place in my top 3 writings of all time. “Living Like Weasels,” “The Deer at Providencia,” “On a Hill Far Away,” “Life on the Rocks: The Galápagos,” and “Sojourner” were all truly amazing.

Here is an excerpt from “Total Eclipse.”

It began without any fanfare. It was rather odd that such a well-advertised public event should have no starting gun, no overture, and no introductory speaker. I should have known right then that I was out of my depth. Without any pause or preamble, silent as the orbits of the planets, a piece of the sun simply went away. We looked at it through welders’ goggles. A piece of the sun was missing, and in its place, we saw the empty sky.

I had witnessed a partial eclipse in 1970. A partial eclipse is very interesting, but it bears almost no resemblance to a total eclipse. Seeing a partial eclipse is to seeing a total eclipse as kissing a man is to marrying him, or flying in an airplane is to falling out of an airplane. Although the one experience precedes the other, it in no way prepares you for it.

Silent as orbits, I mean— c’mon. It's truly a remarkable description that captures the essence of the moment.

This book truly has it all: death, clowns, and the fear of Santa Claus.

It's wonderful that I reside in a city. So much so that whenever I long for nature, I can simply pick up a book by Mary Oliver or Dillard and feel at one with the trees. It's truly amazing the direction Dillard takes after seeing a weasel, establishing a connection with it, and then somehow I find myself alone, pondering my purpose in life.

My last encounter with Dillard's work was years ago, with "Pilgrim at Tinker Creek." It was spellbinding, haunting, and mystical in a certain way.

Dillard is no different in this work. I used to think that the woman took hallucinogenic mushrooms to reach the elevated thoughts she pursues, but it turns out it's actually a strong third cup of coffee, as she admits in the text. Here, she is jovial, witty, and still full of spirit in her usual sense. There is a lot to enjoy here for fans of Dillard, and it also serves as a very good entry point if you want to get to know Dillard and her big, beautiful mind.

READING VLOG

Oh, Annie...

No one, but no one can find the words that clang the bells and crack the sky open like you. Your words have a magical power that can touch the deepest part of my heart.

You help me to think about my world and my experiences more deeply, better, and carefully. You teach me to learn to care about things that I may never have noticed before. You teach me how to see the beauty and the wonder in the ordinary.

I am a better person because of your words. All of the moments of solemn laughter that we shared, as you deconstructed one mystery after another and blew it like dandelion seed, have made a lasting impression on me.

You have been a best companion, always there for me when I need you. I thank you always for being brave and giving us so many of your wonderful words to keep. They will always be a source of inspiration and comfort for me.