Entering the Stone: On Caves and Feeling Through the Dark by Barbara Hurd  (2)
$17.25
|
Walking the Wrack Line: On Tidal Shifts and What Remains by Barbara Hurd (1)
$15.61
|
Four Cultures of the West by John W., S. J. O'Malley (3)
$10.17
|
The Making of the Middle Ages by R. W. Southern (7)
$19.00
|
The Individual and the Cosmos in Renaissance Philosophy by Ernst Cassirer  (2)
|
This item is not eligible for Amazon Prime, but millions of other items are. Join Amazon Prime today. Already a member? Sign in.
|
|||||||||||||
Customers Who Bought This Item Also Bought
Editorial Reviews
From Publishers Weekly
Essayist Hurd posits that the creative spirit thrives in "the sodden ground of swamps where the profusion of growth defies the old image of a wasteland." Judging from this collection of imaginative, evocative essays inspired by Maryland's Finzel and Cranesville swamps, she may be right. Vivid, unusual analogies ("trying to define the edges of a swamp is like trying to put a neatly folded shadow into a dresser drawer") and clever parallels between swamp and human life provide lively and engaging reading. Reflecting on the prevalence of animal-like plants in the swamp, for instance, Hurd infers that "there's a camaraderie here, a tolerance for hybrids and mongrels, a kinship among the patrons of an all-night, half-sunken bar for cross-dressers." Knitting together such diverse subjects as Buddhist philosophy, mythology and her own childhood, Hurd evokes the landscape through a series of unexpected and sometimes fascinating physical and mental wanderings. A pair of shoes left behind in the swamp prompts musings on the allure and taboo of mud. A trip through the New Orleans bayous yields insights into the elusiveness of our thoughts and our very identities. A late fall foray into the swamp in search of a bear becomes a consideration of longing. Hurd's reflective style makes for a relatively slow pace, and the occasional digressions can seem forced. But her musings are poetic, and her loving descriptions of the wetland world will likely convince some readers that there are universal truths lurking out there in the mud and mire.
From The New Yorker
Swamps and bogs and their mysterious ambiguity––their perch between liquid and solid––hold a peculiar fascination for Hurd, a naturalist and poet who lives near Maryland's Finzel Swamp. Delving into these wetlands, she finds in their array of strange fauna and flora an objective correlative to the place in the mind where artistic inspiration occurs: a place of blurred borders, shifting identity, and strange odors, of rot and death, of Zen peacefulness. "To love a swamp," she writes, is to love "what shoulders its way out of mud and scurries along the damp edges of what is most commonly praised."
Copyright © 2005 The New Yorker
See all Editorial Reviews
Essayist Hurd posits that the creative spirit thrives in "the sodden ground of swamps where the profusion of growth defies the old image of a wasteland." Judging from this collection of imaginative, evocative essays inspired by Maryland's Finzel and Cranesville swamps, she may be right. Vivid, unusual analogies ("trying to define the edges of a swamp is like trying to put a neatly folded shadow into a dresser drawer") and clever parallels between swamp and human life provide lively and engaging reading. Reflecting on the prevalence of animal-like plants in the swamp, for instance, Hurd infers that "there's a camaraderie here, a tolerance for hybrids and mongrels, a kinship among the patrons of an all-night, half-sunken bar for cross-dressers." Knitting together such diverse subjects as Buddhist philosophy, mythology and her own childhood, Hurd evokes the landscape through a series of unexpected and sometimes fascinating physical and mental wanderings. A pair of shoes left behind in the swamp prompts musings on the allure and taboo of mud. A trip through the New Orleans bayous yields insights into the elusiveness of our thoughts and our very identities. A late fall foray into the swamp in search of a bear becomes a consideration of longing. Hurd's reflective style makes for a relatively slow pace, and the occasional digressions can seem forced. But her musings are poetic, and her loving descriptions of the wetland world will likely convince some readers that there are universal truths lurking out there in the mud and mire.
Copyright 2001 Cahners Business Information, Inc.
--This text refers to an out of print or unavailable edition of this title.From The New Yorker
Swamps and bogs and their mysterious ambiguity––their perch between liquid and solid––hold a peculiar fascination for Hurd, a naturalist and poet who lives near Maryland's Finzel Swamp. Delving into these wetlands, she finds in their array of strange fauna and flora an objective correlative to the place in the mind where artistic inspiration occurs: a place of blurred borders, shifting identity, and strange odors, of rot and death, of Zen peacefulness. "To love a swamp," she writes, is to love "what shoulders its way out of mud and scurries along the damp edges of what is most commonly praised."
Copyright © 2005 The New Yorker
See all Editorial Reviews
Product Details
Would you like to update product info or give feedback on images?
|
|
Inside This Book Citations: This book cites 2 books | 4 books that cite this book Explore: Citations | Concordance | Text Stats Key Phrases - CAPs: Finzel Swamp, Stirring the Mud, |