I am deeply concerned with much gloomier matters. The very condition of being flesh is a complex and often burdensome one. We are susceptible to pain, constantly bombarded by the onslaught of consciousness and even the awareness of our own consciousness. Moreover, we are doomed to death, and with that comes the ever-present awareness of our own mortality.

In Jackson Hole, there is a Catholic church. It was named Our Lady of the Grand Tetons by someone who, quite显然, didn't have a proper understanding of what tetons are.

In the pasture, there are thirty acres of wild mustard. The brightness of it is so intense that it seems to yellow the very air around it. It's like a cowslip under the chin of the sky, and one can't help but think that if you like butter, this sight would surely please you.

He tells me that a baby California gray whale grows a ton a month. This fact, I am certain, will agitate my mind on many a sleepless night. What in the world is in whale's milk?

There is no way to step off the treadmill. It is all the treadmill, and we are forever caught in its unrelenting motion.

Think of the force of life, yes, but also think of the component of darkness within it. One of the things that's in whale's milk is the promise of pain and death.

But the point seems to be: despite all the hardships and the darkness, it is still worth it.

How can I know what I think until I hear what I say?

I don't think I have ever enjoyed a book to such an extent. This book is truly a delight in and of itself. The words employed are of the purest craftsmanship. Each and every one of them seems to be carefully chosen and placed to create a masterpiece. I listened to almost every chapter not just once, but several times.

The main character is extremely deep and complex. He is a cynical old man, yet there is something about him that makes you unable to help but love him. His flaws and idiosyncrasies only add to his charm and make him a truly memorable character. As I delved deeper into the story, I found myself becoming more and more invested in his life and his journey. This book has truly left a lasting impression on me.

This is a truly painful novel to peruse. It offers not a single moment of relief or anything even remotely approaching a comforting conclusion. Quite the contrary. The final chapter of this novel encompasses one of the most gruesome scenes I have ever encountered. Grotesque, bloody, and with such vivid, detailed portrayals of death that I had to repeatedly halt my reading to catch my breath and muster the strength to continue.

Life is far from abundant in Stegner's reminiscence of Joe Allston's early years. There is illness. There is fury. There is skepticism. And there is death. Premature death.

I had come across the retired literary agent in Stegner's later novel “The Spectator Bird” and grown to love his cantankerous nature. I never fully managed to understand his exasperation with the world, but I ultimately adored his reproving temperament. In that novel, Joe accepted his failures, forgave himself, and simultaneously began to embrace life for the very first time, precisely when his own was drawing to a close. It was a redemptive read.

Nevertheless, “All the Little Live Things” is the antithesis of its sequel. The story presented here is cruel, senseless, and random; the kind of violence that extinguishes any minuscule glimmer of hope that the reader attempts to hold onto. The cast of characters is difficult to relate to, starting with a younger Joe who is still grappling with the sudden loss of his only son. He is not a likable character.

In this book, Joe and his wife Ruth have just departed from the coast for a California retreat to start afresh, and although their new home sounds like Eden, the arrival of a young hippie named Jim Peck disrupts their privacy and unleashes unrequited memories of Joe's failed relationship with his deceased son.

John and Marian enter the scene when they move into the neighboring house, and Joe forms a powerful connection with the young woman, whose otherworldly innocence gives him something to anticipate. A person whose radiance might defy his cynical disposition. A person who firmly believes there are no malevolent forces in nature. The daughter he never had. The passionate discussions between Joe and Marian are as stimulating as they are intellectually challenging, and they became the primary source of joy I derived from this book.

Life is often heartless. Joe is cognizant of this and can no longer ignore it.

There are numerous individuals like Joe. Disappointed. Afraid. Armored with disillusionment and regret.

There are few people like Marian. People with a strong will and even stronger convictions. People with a blind faith in the greater good.

I was rooting for both of them, but Stegner made this one a bitter pill to swallow.

I am grateful that I encountered Joe at a later stage in his life and that I have an understanding of the person he was about to become; otherwise, this book might have been too bleak for my liking.

Exquisitely written. Dark as the netherworld, where no little things are permitted to survive.

I truly loved this book. There is no one quite like Stegner who can explore the beautiful and tragic aspects of life with such depth and nuance.

The book is not only worth reading for the vivid and powerful imagery that Stegner weaves throughout, but it also brings to life one of the most unforgettable characters in recent memory - Marian.

Her presence will linger in my mind for days to come, as I continue to grapple with the profound meaning and purpose of the scene on the bridge at the end.

Despite my confusion regarding that final scene, this book has left me with a newfound appreciation for every little living thing in my own world.

It has opened my eyes to the beauty and complexity that exists all around us, and has made me more aware of the delicate balance between the beautiful and the tragic in our lives.

Overall, this is a book that I would highly recommend to anyone who is looking for a thought-provoking and deeply moving read.

5 stars again for one of my favorite authors. The sheer pleasure of reading Stegner's prose is truly remarkable. In some ways, it stands apart from any story he is telling. I find myself constantly torn. On one hand, I want to stop and re-read those lovely passages, savoring every word and phrase. On the other hand, the urge to go on and discover more of the story is equally strong. I am truly in awe of his style. His characters are not only fascinating but also deep, being both human and relatable. The relationships he描绘 are complex and multi-faceted. The way he times the telling of things that you already know are coming, yet you still crave the details, is simply masterful. I love it all.

Obviously, I wholeheartedly recommend it. Whether you are a fan of literature or just looking for a great read, Stegner's work is sure to delight and engage you. So, pick up one of his books and prepare to be transported into a world of beautiful prose and captivating stories.

A wonderful and tragic story unfolds, revealing the beauties and evils found in life, and in our own lives as well.

As I delved into this narrative, I couldn't help but pose the question: Where does Wallace Stegner stand in the ranks of great 20th Century American writers? Although not as grand and epic as his renowned masterpiece, Big Rock Candy Mountain, this book was still written with great skill and mastery.

Stegner presents the tale of Joe Alliston, a retired publisher who retreats to a idyllic California estate. There, he attempts to flee from various things, especially the memories of his son's death that continue to haunt him. Through Alliston's daily battles with moles, aphids, tomato worms, and other pests of nature, and as he witnesses a dear neighbor's struggle against a malignant form of cancer, Stegner makes a powerful argument. He shows that no matter how hard we try, we cannot escape hardship, pain, worries, and ultimately, death.

Despite the somber undertone that pervades the story, when I finished the book, I was left with the reminder that life's hardships, difficulties, and sorrows actually add depth and even a certain greatness to our lives. This book is most definitely one of the best that I have read this year.

While I have adored all of Stegner's novels that I have read up to this point (Angle of Repose, Crossing to Safety, Spectator Bird), this particular one appears to be a touch dated.

In this companion piece to Spectator Bird, nearly 70-year-old Joe Allston rails and raves about the hippie barbarians carrying out their activities on a portion of his property in 1967 Los Altos Hills/Woodside.

I somewhat wish I had read this back in 1967 when it was first published, and I was still at Stanford, and Stegner was still residing in the nearby hills.

I have no clue how autobiographical this might be (I don't think Stegner was ever a New York book agent), but it seems that I read somewhere that Stegner was not a huge enthusiast of the "counter-culture".

At my present age, I can understand his perspective. Nevertheless, the writing remains as luminous as ever.

It's interesting to note how the passage of time can affect our perception of a work. What might have seemed cutting-edge and relevant in 1967 may now come across as a bit old-fashioned.

However, Stegner's talent for creating vivid characters and immersive settings still shines through.

Despite the dated nature of some of the themes, there is still much to appreciate and learn from this novel.

It serves as a snapshot of a particular time and place, and a reminder of the social and cultural changes that were taking place during that era.

’Wherever you find the greatest good, you will find the greatest evil, because evil loves paradise as much as good.’

This profound statement sets the tone for a story that is both complex and deeply moving.

A lovely gift of happenstance led me to listen to this particular work after recently enjoying his The Spectator Bird. Little did I know, as I began listening, that it continues the story of Joe and Ruth Austin. They are in their retirement years in California in the 1960s, having endured the loss of their son. Joe, a man somewhat set in his ways and opinions, finds his world disrupted when a graduate student takes up residence on his property in a treehouse. Joe seems to search for a connection, comparing the young man to his own son.

For a time, there is a sense of leniency on Joe's part, yet within him rages an inner war. He doesn't fully approve of the situation, but having this young man around stirs up vivid memories of his son. At times, it makes him wish he had done more for his son, leading him to extend more leniency. However, at other moments, he finds the young man's responses irritatingly arrogant. As the days pass, the arrogance becomes more dominant and mocking.

I believe every generation harbors the belief that they know better than the previous one and desires to solve problems with what they think are better solutions - and perhaps they are right. This story delves into this theme, but it goes beyond that. What it subtly and eloquently explores throughout is grief. The grief of loss and the helplessness of watching a pending loss.

’Love even the threat and the pain, feel yourself fully alive, cast a bold shadow, accept, accept. What we call evil is only a groping towards good, part of the trial and error by which we move toward the perfected consciousness…’

When a young couple becomes their neighbors, Ruth and Joe befriend them and their young daughter. It soon becomes evident that Marian, the wife and mother, has health issues and is determined to live her best life while she still can.

’One thing I have learned hard, if indeed I have learned it now: it is a reduction of our humanity to hide from pain, our own or others. To hide from anything. That was Marian's text. Be open, be available, be exposed, be skinless. Skinless? Dance around in your bones.’

This is a moving, lovely story of a life lived to the fullest and the sorrow that inevitably remains.

’I shall be richer all my life for this sorrow.’

"All The Little Live Things" is a title that, for me, implies sprightliness, energy, and the promise of goodness. However, it was far from these things. In fact, it was an extremely painful book to read. If it weren't for the beauty of Stegner's prose, I might have given up on it. It's not a book to pick up when one is feeling wretched and vulnerable.

Written in 1967, it preceded "The Spectator Bird" (1976), which won the 1977 National Book Award and continued the story of Joe and Ruth Allston, who lost their son, Curtis, in a surfing accident. The novel began in a brooding manner. Joe, a bruised man, was looking at the rain on a wintry evening. The opening chapter carried a bone-chilling sadness. Joe was stewing in the anguish of having lost Curtis and, more recently, a close neighbor-friend (Marian Catlin) to cancer. Joe described himself as "a tea bag left too long in the cup, and my steepings grow darker and bitterer." And indeed, the novel progressed in a darker and bitterer direction.

Then came Jim Peck, a hippie undergrad and self-proclaimed guru of Free Living 101, who camped out on Joe's property. Joe's irascibility increased manifold. His antagonism toward Peck, partly due to his unresolved conflicts with Curtis (who was about Peck's age and equally reckless), was poignantly conveyed and almost too much to bear while reading.

Stegner very convincingly portrayed Joe as a cantankerous old man without the reader losing respect for him. The novel was rich with the most beautiful prose when Joe described the gardens and the countryside. However, nature too was dominated by the lurking presence of the poison oak, which symbolically emphasized the sense of futility in the novel.

There is no consolation when the last page is turned. Joe admitted, "Burrowing among sunny flowers, I never lost the sense of the presence of evil." One is left with a bleak apprehension of man's inability to eliminate the "component of darkness" from "the force of life." "All The Little Live Things" is not for everyone. It is definitely not recommended if you need a book to read while on vacation.

I kind of wish I hadn't read this because certain parts of the story continue to haunt me.

Stegner is indeed a truly terrific writer, but this particular work was not my favorite among his novels.

It is an inescapable fact that when reading a book set in the late 1960s or early 1970s, no matter how exquisitely written or astutely observed it may be, one cannot help but cringe slightly at its dated nature.

This, of course, is not Stegner's fault. In fact, his character Joe's perspective on the counter-culture is truly fascinating.

It offers a unique window into a bygone era, allowing readers to understand the mindset and values of that time.

Despite the book's flaws, it still manages to capture the essence of an important period in history and leaves a lasting impression on the reader.

“All the Little Live Things” is truly a remarkable bookend to “The Spectacular Bird”.

It commences with a profound quote by William Wordsworth: “Oh, Sir! the good die first, And they whose hearts are dry as summer dust Burn to the socket.”

We are reunited with Joe and Ruth Allston, this time ten years earlier than in “The Spectacular Bird”. The story is set in the 1960s, not far from where I am, in the Los Altos Hills of Northern California, which is also where Wallace Stegner lived for years and used as his retirement home.

I found myself laughing more in this novel compared to “The Spectacular Bird”, although it's not just a light-hearted, haha-funny book. Right from the start, we learn that the character Marian Catlin dies even before we get to meet her.

However, the story unfolds smoothly, making it a real page-turner. Joe Allston is a charming, adorable, yet grumpy curmudgeon, and I loved his honesty about his own flaws.

Ruth and Joe Allston have built their retirement/summer home on five acres of land. They are mourning the loss of their son, Curtis, who died in a surfing accident in Southern California, perhaps intentionally.

Soon, we meet Jim Peck, a 24-year-old hippie with a motorcycle, a full beard, a scrawny body, and a righteous personality. Joe is not charmed by him, but I kind of liked him, and so did Ruth.

Joe has some interesting things to say about Jim Peck, like “He has a bad case of disestablishmentarianism.” Peck only eats nuts, fruits, and vegetables because his father is a bigwig in the meat-packing business in Chicago.

The real issue for Joe is that Peck wants to camp on his property, and Joe reluctantly agrees. I found the whole situation hilarious.

As a treehouse-loving girl myself, I loved the idea of this hippie college drop-out being a productive hippie on Joe's land, working with wood and living creatively.

Our hippie guy also has visitors, friends who play guitar and sing topless outside in the fresh air. Joe grumbles every step of the way, while we can almost see Ruth smiling.

We also meet the new neighbors, Marian, John, and their little girl. Joe becomes close to Marian, as one might with an adult daughter. They have fascinating conversations about nature and all the little live things.

They debate about the benefits and drawbacks of various critters and weed species. “Every kind of life you can think of is under attack by some other kind.”

Joe can be stubborn, but Marian slowly opens his eyes to see things from different perspectives.

We also encounter the bulldozing Dave Weld, who has differences with Joe regarding environmental concerns.

The characterization in this book is complex, rich, and in many ways simple, yet always very realistic. Marian Catlin was a woman to admire, standing up for all the little live things.

After sixty, as the book states, “you are aware how vulnerable everything is, including yourself, but even after sixty you may need an occasional reminder. And though I am glad that Caitlin got out before she had to go through the distress of the pigeon shooting, I am remorseful at the discomfort my big mouth must have caused her.”

Love and remorse, this is yet another Stegner gem of a book, with characters that we will cherish.

How have I missed out on Wallace Stegner throughout my entire reading life?

His writing is truly brilliant, and this book completely engaged me. It evoked a wide range of emotions - I laughed, got angry, and nearly cried. I also saw a bit of myself in the narrator, Joe. As I've aged, I've become set in my ways and less tolerant. Whether that's good or bad, it's just the way it is.

In any case, through the writing, this story transported me to Paradise, CA in the 1960s, allowing me to enjoy "all the little live things." I don't know where Stegner lived or grew up, but one thing is certain - he captured the California terrain and weather perfectly.

This wasn't an uplifting book; there was a great deal of pain and sadness. However, I think it tries, through the character Marian, to teach us to embrace more of what we do and find the silver lining. This was the opposite of Joe, and by the end of the story, we're not sure if he learned anything from Marian.

The relationship between Joe and his wife, both in their mid-60s, was quite entertaining. Joe was a bit of a curmudgeon, while Ruth was the complete opposite and never afraid to stand up to him. You have to wonder how their marriage survived, especially after a great personal loss, but survive it did.

The character of Peck annoyed me to no end. He seemed like an antagonist at every turn, feeling that life owed him something regardless of his contributions. He was the polar opposite of Joe, which made for interesting reading. I sided with Joe.

The ending was too much for me, though. While we knew from the beginning that Marian wouldn't survive her battle with cancer, it was an added blow when the baby she was carrying also died at birth. Then there was the scene with the horse - it was completely unnecessary and the gruesome details were too much.

Other than that, I found the book well worth reading. I truly loved some of the descriptive outdoor scene settings and the relationships between Joe and Ruth, Marian, her husband, and her daughter. Joe and Ruth really were like parents to Marian, and Marian shares those same thoughts at the end of the story.

I'm seriously considering adding Crossing to Safety to my TBR list now.