Not magnitude, not lavishness,
But Form—the Site;
Not innovating wilfulness,
But reverence for the Archetype.
I just finished Moby Dick for the second time. A hybrid, genius work way ahead of its time, combining a nonfiction, direct address to the reader and narrative fiction, in short a swirl and swerve that follows Melville’s daemon to tell his tale like no other, which he did. By the end, he’s understandably exhausted. But we have been told in a new, pre-modern archetype.
Red Pine, Stonehouse and Gary Snyder are mentioned in Jim Harrison’s new trilogy of novellas that was just released, The Ancient Minstrel:
“After attending and giving at least a hundred poetry readings he could remember only one that struck him as a hundred percent genuine and honest. A poet named, simply enough, Red Pine read from an ancient Chinese poet he had translated, called Stonehouse. Red Pine read with quiet integrity just what he translated. Usually after a reading he was in a private snit and needed a drink, but now he walked down and looked at the harbor, his spine still tingling. The other true exception was Gary Snyder. He never wanted Snyder’s readings to end.”
Isn’t it it
Or is it it
Or is it it
It’s it isn’t
A great writer, Jim Harrison. died today at his casita in Patagonia, Arizona.
My spirit is starving.
How can it be fed?
Not by pain in the predictable future
nor the pain in the past
but understanding the invisible flower
within the flower that tells it what is,
the soul of the tree that does the same.
I don’t seem to have a true character
to discover, a man slumped on his desk
dozing at midafternoon… – From Dead Man’s Float
A great soul and true friend, James Newton, died on February 12.
Did you notice the daylight today?
The days are short in December.
It comes before dark. Sometimes it passes
in a hurry to get someplace else
More friendly perhaps. Fiji maybe.
We become forgetful and miss it some days.
In March there were six different warblers
in one willow bush. What else could
you possibly want from daylight?
– Jim Harrison, Dead Man’s Float
People can’t explain why they’re so crazy
The two evil birds on their faces
The three poison snakes in their hearts
One or another blocks their way
Making it hard to get hold of things
Lift your hand high and snap your fingers
Homage to the Buddha
– Poem #223 from The Collected Songs of Cold Mountain, translated from Chinese by Red Pine