An accurate synopsis of good portions of this book might be as follows: descriptions of unusual and unmistakably grotesque insect behaviors delivered amidst often overly poetic observations of nature. Yet, while that might describe a sizable chunk of the work, it does not do justice to the rest of the book. If the sometimes insubstantial prose can be ignored, the book reveals a unique perspective about what life (in the most profound, universal sense) is and how life might be as seen by a young twenty-seven year old woman living by herself in the woods of Tinker Creek. If approached with the mindset that this is almost a partial autobiography (rather than a collection of essays about nature or philosophy) then there is a lot more to be gained from this book. With that prejudice in mind, it is sometimes easier to see past what the words are saying to the enthusiasm behind those words and to the core of what they are trying to say.At its shakiest, the book may warrant a review like Annie Dillard's own comments about another author: "He may not be right, but I like his adjectives." As a similar criticism of Tinker Creek, I might say the sentences sometimes outrun their meaning. Here's one of the more extreme examples: Here is the word from a subatomic physicist: "Everything that has already happened is particles, everything in the future is waves." Let me twist his meaning. Here it comes. The particles are broken; the waves are translucent, laving, roiling with beauty like sharks. The present is the wave that explodes over my head, flinging the air with particles at the height of its breathless unroll; it is the live water and light that bears from undisclosed sources the freshest news, renewed and renewing, world without end.There's something noteworthy in the attempt at profundity here; yet, I think in trying to poetically tie together quantum mechanics, an earlier story about sharks she saw in the ocean, and a religious sounding timelessness - the meaning may have been twisted too far and, well, disappeared. Is the above paragraph actually saying anything? That's the feel of the book at its lower points.At its best though, are the simple theses which lay between and behind the ebullient prose. My favorite, which might characterize the voice of the author at its best, is hidden in later chapters: "Spend the afternoon. You can't take it with you."
An amazing and inspiring piece of literature. Annie Dillard may not be for everyone (due to the lack of plot/storyline and the general passionate rambling for the natural world, both scientific and experiential), but she exudes a love for everything--seriously, everything. You can sense it in her words and metaphors, her daily excursions to the creek and its environs, always looking for something new, satisfied to just sit and wait and observe, to be one with and part of everything surrounding her.I think we can all learn from her example. I know that I was motivated to seek more, to ponder more, to consider the unconsidered and recognize that which I may often ignore. We can take her idea of having to take things into account, having to deal with things once we are aware of them, as she does with microscopic pond creatures (122).Well worth the read. It will open your eyes to the world's abundance, the magnificent disarray of creation and life, the absolutely unfathomable creativity that's inherent in the world, and the many simple ways we can feel our way through it and interact with it.I can well relate to her ambitious yet realistic sentiment: "I would like to see it all, to understand it, but I must start somewhere" (128).--- ---"Our life is a faint tracing on the surface of mystery" (9, 143)"If the landscape reveals one certainty, it is that the extravagant gesture is the very stuff of creation." (9)"Nature will try anything once." (65)"I am more alive than all the world." (78)"The creator ... churns out the intricate texture of least works that is the world with a spendthrift genius and an extravagance of care." (127)"The texture of the world, its filigree and scrollwork, means that there is the possibility for beauty here, a beauty inexhaustible in its complexity, which opens to my knock, which answers in me a call I do not remember calling, and which trains me to the wild and extravagant nature of the spirit I seek." (139)"Evolution loves death more than it loves you or me." (176)"I am a fugitive and a vagabond, a sojourner seeking signs." (267)
What do You think about Pilgrim At Tinker Creek (2000)?
At first I hated it, then I tolerated it. Very tedious to read someone else’s stream of consciousness about stuff I don’t care about. Now that I’ve finished it, I feel that I’ve learned a few things about nature, although I’m still mystified about why so many people sing the book's praises and why it got a Pulitzer Prize. I liked the part where she told about a different book—where the blind people got sight. That was cool. I also liked the part (p 126) where she looks through the microscope. there's a cool chemistry explanation on pages 126-127. The setting is like (maybe near) my parents’ farm in SW Virginia, so I felt that I ought to pay attention. Generally found it tedious, however. Now I know not to read any more of her stuff.Compare good books with nature themes and explorations: Invisible Lines, by Mary Amato; Ship Fever, by Andrea Barrett; Animal, Vegetable, Miracle: A Year of Food Life, by Barbara Kingsolver (same geographic area); Nature Noir: A Park Ranger's Patrol in the Sierra, by Jordan Fisher Smith.
—Rebecca
This was not a badly written book. However, it should not be forced upon poor innocent high school students! I have had to read a lot of boring books in my high school career, but this tops them all. Just when you thought something interesting was going to happen she watches birds or something for hours. True, there were moments of great beauty and her philosphy were not always crazed. I respect her art and her view of the world, but she has even said that it's silly for schools to make 16 and 17 year old kids read this book. It should be left to the deeper, *tree-huggers* of the world.
—Melissa
"Not only does something come if you wait, but it pours over you like a waterfall, like a tidal wave. You wait in all naturalness without expectation or hope, emtied, translucent, and that which comes rocks and topples you; it will shear, loose, launch, winnow, grind.I have glutted on richness...I am bouyed by a calm and effortless longing and angled pitch of the will, like the set of the wings of the monarch which climbed a hill by falling still."Annie Dillard "Pilgrim at Tinker Creek" Winner of the Pulitzer Prize.I wrote this by hand, and taped it to my wall during my undergraduate years, so I could read these words anytime I wanted, I loved it so much!
—Angela
