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TIME: Almanac 1995
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TIME Almanac 1995.iso
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10109934.000
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1995-02-26
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<text id=94TT1387>
<title>
Oct. 10, 1994: Books:Sketchbook
</title>
<history>
TIME--The Weekly Newsmagazine--1994
Oct. 10, 1994 Black Renaissance
</history>
<article>
<source>Time Magazine</source>
<hdr>
ARTS & MEDIA/BOOKS, Page 88
Sketchbook
</hdr>
<body>
<p> Barry Lopez explores the edges of the natural world
</p>
<p>By John Skow
</p>
<p> Barry Lopez is best known for two wonderfully instructive non-fiction
books that explore the troubled boundaries between civilization
and nature, Of Wolves and Men and Arctic Dreams. Their substance
is scholarly and reflective (he won the 1986 National Book Award
for Dreams), but it is their tone--highly colored, moody,
elegiac--that speaks unforgettably to de-natured urbanites.
And, it could be added, that causes some wildlife biologists
to roll their eyes.
</p>
<p> The title of his brief new work, Field Notes (Knopf; 159 pages;
$20), evokes science, but what Lopez offers instead are a dozen
fictional sketches from his staked-out territory at the edge
of the natural world. The stories are slight, and the term note
suggests sketchbook impressions, perhaps, for canvases that
might someday be painted. Thus slyly discounted by their author,
these spare narrations carry surprising weight. One story, Teal
Creek, is nothing more than a teenager's recollection of coming
instinctively to respect a rural hermit's solitude. Although
Lopez is known for wavering dangerously close to poetic prose,
here he leaves all the right things unsaid, and the silence
resonates.
</p>
<p> The prize of the collection is a haunting story called The Runner,
in which an ordinary man tries earnestly to bridge the spiritual
distance between himself and his long-absent sister, legendary
in Arizona for making all but impossible runs over ancient,
barely visible Anasazi trails in the Grand Canyon. Her descents
are a kind of Zen archery, only partly physical. Lopez, who's
far too shrewd to bring the fey sister onstage, leaves the reader
with a mysterious image: the woman, running on her toes like
a deer, glimpsed by rafting vacationers, and then, downriver
beyond impassible rock walls, glimpsed again.
</p>
<p> Warning: the author's empurpled introduction, which contains
such glop as "Hope has become a bird's feather, glissading from
the evening sky," is unrepresentative and should be ignored.
</p>
</body>
</article>
</text>