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Pilgrim at Tinker Creek
     

Pilgrim at Tinker Creek

3.6 47
by Annie Dillard
 

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The Pulitzer Prize-winning work by the author whom The Boston Globe called "one of the most distinctive voices in American letters today."

Overview

The Pulitzer Prize-winning work by the author whom The Boston Globe called "one of the most distinctive voices in American letters today."

Editorial Reviews

The Observer - Geoff Dyer
'Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, is a classic instance of the nonfiction work of art.'

Product Details

ISBN-13:
9780613069182
Publisher:
Bt Bound
Publication date:
07/28/2002
Product dimensions:
5.04(w) x 8.32(h) x 0.89(d)
Age Range:
4 - 8 Years

Read an Excerpt

Chapter One

Heaven and Earth in Jest

I used to have a cat, an old fighting tom, who would jump through the open window by my bed in the middle of the night and land on my chest. I'd half-awaken. He'd stick his skull under my nose and purr, stinking of urine and blood. Some nights he kneaded my bare chest with his front paws, powerfully, arching his back, as if sharpening his claws, or pummeling a mother for milk. And some mornings I'd wake in daylight to find my body covered with paw prints in blood; I looked as though I'd been painted with roses.

It was hot, so hot the mirror felt warm. I washed before the mirror in a daze, my twisted summer sleep still hung about me like sea kelp. What blood was this, and what roses? It could have been the rose of union, the blood of murder, or the rose of beauty bare and the blood of some unspeakable sacrifice or birth. The sign on my body could have been an emblem or a stain, the keys to the kingdom or the mark of Cain. I never knew. I never knew as I washed, and the blood streaked, faded, and finally disappeared, whether I'd purified myself or ruined the blood sign of the passover. We wake, if we ever wake at all, to mystery, rumors of death, beauty, violence. . . . "Seem like we're just set down here," a woman said to me recently, "and don't nobody know why."

These are morning matters, pictures you dream as the final wave heaves you up on the sand to the bright fight and drying air. You remember pressure, and a curved sleep you rested against, soft, like a scallop in its shell. But the air hardens your skin; you stand; you leave the lighted shore to explore some dim headland, and soonyou're lost in the leafy interior, intent, remembering nothing.

I still think of that old tomcat, mornings, when I wake. Things are tamer now; I sleep with the window shut. The cat and our rites are gone and my life is changed, but the memory remains of something powerful playing over me. I wake expectant, hoping to see a new thing. If I'm lucky I might be jogged awake by a strange bird call. I dress in a hurry, imagining the yard flapping with auks, or flamingos. This morning it was a wood duck, down at the creek. It flew away.

I live by a creek, Tinker Creek, in a valley in Virginia's Blue Ridge. An anchorite's hermitage is called an anchor-hold; some anchor-holds were simple sheds clamped to the side of a church like a barnacle to a rock. I think of this house clamped to the side of Tinker Creek as an anchor-hold. It holds me at anchor to the rock bottom of the creek itself and it keeps me steadied in the current, as a sea anchor does, facing the stream of light pouring down. It's a good place to live; there's a lot to think about. The creeks-Tinker and Carvin's — are an active mystery, fresh every minute. Theirs is the mystery of the continuous creation and all that providence implies: the uncertainty of vision, the horror of the fixed, the dissolution of the present, the intricacy of beauty, the pressure of fecundity, the elusiveness of the free, and the flawed nature of perfection. The mountains-Tinker and Brushy, McAfee's Knob and Dead Man-are a passive mystery, the oldest of all. Theirs is the one simple mystery of creation from nothing, of matter itself, anything at all, the given. Mountains are giant, restful, absorbent. You can heave your spirit into a mountain and the mountain will keep it, folded, and not throw it back as some creeks will. The creeks are the world with all its stimulus and beauty; I live there. But the mountains are home.

The wood duck flew away. I caught only a glimpse of something like a bright torpedo that blasted the leaves where it flew. Back at the house I ate a bowl of oatmeal; much later in the day came the long slant of light that means good walking.

If the day is fine, any walk will do; it all looks good. Water in particular looks its best, reflecting blue sky in the flat, and chopping it into graveled shallows and white chute and foam in the riffles. On a dark day, or a hazy one, everything's washed-out and lackluster but the water. It carries its own lights. I set out for the railroad tracks, for the hill the flocks fly over, for the woods where the white mare lives. But I go to the water.

Today is one of those excellent January partly cloudies in which fight chooses an unexpected part of the landscape to trick out in gilt, and then shadow sweeps it away. You know you're alive. You take huge steps, trying to feel the planet's roundness arc between your feet. Kazantzakis says that when he was young he had a canary and a globe. When he freed the canary, it would perch on the globe and sing. All his life, wandering the earth, he felt as though he had a canary on top of his mind, singing.

West of the house, Tinker Creek makes a sharp loop, so that the creek is both in back of the house, south of me, and also on the other side of the road, north of me. I like to go north. There the afternoon sun hits the creek just right, deepening the reflected blue and lighting the sides of trees on the banks. Steers from the pasture across the creek come down to drink; I always flush a rabbit or two there; I sit on a fallen trunk in the shade and watch the squirrels in the sun. There are two separated wooden fences suspended from cables that cross the creek just upstream from my tree-trunk bench. They keep the steers from escaping up or down the creek when they come to drink. Squirrels, the neighborhood children, and I use the downstream fence as a swaying bridge across the creek. But the steers are there today...

What People are Saying About This

Melvin Maddocks
"Here is no gentle romantic twirling a buttercup...Miss Dillard is stalking the reader as surely as any predator stalks its game...Here is not only a habitat of cruelty and 'the waste of pain,' but the savage and magnificent world of the Old Testament, presided over by a passionate Jehovah with no Messiah in sight...A remarkable psalm of terror and celebration."
Eudora Welty
"The book is a form of meditation, written with headlong urgency, about seeing. A reader's heart must go out to a young writer with a sense of wonder so fearless and unbridled...There is an ambition about her book that I like...It is the ambition to feel."

Meet the Author

Annie Dillard has written twelve books,including in nonfiction For the Time Being, Teaching a Stone to Talk, Holy the Firm, and Pilgrim at Tinker Creek. She is a member of the American Academy of Arts and Letters and the American Academy of Arts and Sciences.

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Pilgrim at Tinker Creek 3.6 out of 5 based on 0 ratings. 47 reviews.
theKale More than 1 year ago
Annie Dillard's writing at its best. Contrary to what the high school students who give this work one star seem to think, a book doesn't always have to chronicle a definite story with formulaic heroes fighting formulaic villains (I am tempted to say that these students have no soul, but I'll hold off). That said, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek does indeed have a plot. It is the plot of the whole world, and God's plan in it. Dillard's writing is poignant, profound, and sensual. She ties herself to the world she lives in, showing how the land we are raised in is a part of who we are. Pilgrim is, in its core, a soul-baring - it is Dillard letting us see the world through her eyes. And a beautiful sight it is.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Though most other high schoolers who reviewed this book disliked it, I read it as a sophomore and absolutely loved it. After nearly every single page, paragraph, or mind-boggling idea, I would literally jump up, elated, and try to explain what was so amazing to whoever happened to be in the room. Dillard manages to pack hundreds of original, thought-provoking images and ideas into the novel with vivid, striking language. The book isn't a particularly quick read, but Dillard retains the reader's interest with unexpected bits of science and stunning sentences sprinkled (and sometimes heavily poured) throughout. If you have, as Dillard does, "a brain-pouch, catching and absorbing small bits that fall deeply into [your] open eye," this book is for you. If the passage "...the universe has continued to deal exclusively in extravagances, flinging intricacies and colossi down aeons of emptiness, heaping profusions on profligacies with ever-fresh vigor" makes you want to explode with appreciation for words, this book is for you. If you're struggling to find beauty or natural (but not necessarily religious) spirituality within our seemingly brutal world, read Pilgrim at Tinker Creek.
Guest More than 1 year ago
The negative reviews on this page are not suprising (although they are very amusing.) You would be hardpressed to find another book with the polarity of responses recorded here, with the same strength of reactions. This speaks to the nature of this wonderful book. This narrative requires an appreciation of a strong literary voice, a patience not found in most readers, and an open mind. A love of the natural world helps as well, though if you can appreciate the tone of the book, there is a good chance that Ms Dillard will instill a love of nature, or at least portray the world in which we live in a new light. Every time I pick this book up I am amazed, every time I am enthralled and mesmerized. The writer of these pages possesses a mind of unparalleled originality and brilliance. How these words were assembled into one volume is at once mysterious and wonderful. The bottom line is that this is one of the best books ever put to print. Unfortunately, that which makes it great also makes it relatively unaccessable. This is not a page turner. It requires patience. Read ten pages at a time so as not to become oversaturated. So, either you will get it or not. Either you will cherish it forever, or wish to set it to fire. I hope beyond hope, however, you will not be one of the latter.
Frisbeesage More than 1 year ago
Listening to the audio version of Pilgrim at Tinker Creek is like having a lovely conversation with Annie Dillard. She meanders through whatever subject crosses her mnds, exclaiming over muskrats, frogs, and praying mantis. She wonders about the meaning of the things she encounters on her walks along Tinker Creek and then she forgets about meaning and just admires the beauty of it all. Her prose is gorgeous, more poetry then mere nonfiction writing. She's young, and it shows in her exuberant sometimes overly gushing enthusiasm. Her musings can be random and seem disconnected, but are more often charming and conversational. I enjoyed this chance to get to know Annie Dillard and the landscape she loved. I listened to this book on audio read by Tavia Gilbert. She does a fantastic job of capturing the energy, enthusiasm, and wonder of Annie's observations.
Guest More than 1 year ago
This book was a very fascinating and heavy read. I expected it to be pleasant and written with beautiful detailed writing. I was half right. It indeed had incredibly stunning writing with detail that almost bowled me over, but it was not pleasant nor calm throughout. She explained many things with gruesome detail which could be frightening at times, but very intriguing. One of my favorite sections confused me a bit a short section about how she allowed the spiders in her house to run freely about. I was confused as to why exactly it was my favorite because spiders are, and have never been, a spot of interest to me. ¿I figure that any predator that hopes to make a living on whatever small creature might blunder into a four-inch square of space in the corner or the bathroom where the tub meets the floor, needs every bit of my support.¿ This part of the section really struck me as great, thoughtful writing. I think it takes a great writer to make someone interested in a subject they have had no interest in. Some parts of the book struck me as a bit eerie. One example is the section from her past where she is describing the Polyphemus moth her 4th or 5th grade class had acquired. ¿He heaved himself down the asphalt driveway by infinite degrees, unwavering. His hideous crumpled wings lay glued and rucked on his back, perfectly still now, like a collapsed tent.¿ These two sentences completely enraptured me. The visualization was so clear and alarming that I was a bit subdued after reading this passage. I think I will read this book again when I am older. I feel that I will appreciate it more, and I will understand things better. For now, I think I will definitely recommend this book! You have to completely lose yourself in it to fully acknowledge the fine writing.
Guest More than 1 year ago
From the first page, where she describes the tomcat who left roses on her body to the end where she tells the horrifying story of the Eskimo, Annie Dillard kept me glued to the pages. I never knew that philosophy and theology were so interconnected, nor that nature could inspire such thinking. Dillard takes us away from the cliched to a world we never even dreamed existed. It has changed my life
Guest More than 1 year ago
This text is one of my favorites--worth reading time and again. While many of the books I read have an impact on my beliefs and lifestyle, Annie Dillard's books have made an especially lasting mark on me, influencing not only my writing style and definition of beauty but also my sense of environmental ethics. Her writing is fabulous--each line is poetic and meaningful. The focus of Tinker Creek drifts from nature and the commonplace to profound spiritual concepts. The wealth of information she draws from even the most basic elements of life reflects her attitudes about the beauty of the simple. For those that have always loved nature, to internalize Dillard's work is to gain an appreciation for unique stones and tiny flowers on the south sides of hills, not just grandiose landscapes and majestic wildlife. All nature is awe-inspiring, regardless of scale.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
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Anonymous More than 1 year ago
I attempted to read this book in 1974, I believe. It was my summer of expanding my mind. I was a college student then and went on to receive advanced degrees in English and history. I was rather amazed to learn that this has become required reading for some students so I recently tried it again, believing that older and wiser would make a difference. I was wrong. I tried to make it to the bitter end and failed again. It may be for a special type of soul but I don't believe it's for the majority of us. I will say she's big on allegory, metaphor, classic quotes, et cetera. Sadly, though, many have been overused and beaten to death. Perhaps anyone contemplating a purchase should first read an excerpt or two. It's just not what I would call exceptional or classic.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
This is one of the most boring book I have ever read in my entire life. Never should a book just spend a whole chapter just describing a tree or a pointless bug. If I wanted to lean or know what a tree looks like, I would just look it up!!! If you have about 10000 hours of spare times and be completely bored for the whole book, be my guest and buy this book!
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Some high octane stream of consciousness writing. It's perdy awwite.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
This is one of the worst books I have ever wasted my money & time on.  The mindless, disconnected, irrelevant, ignorant ramblings of an author who thinks far too much of her own thoughts & intelligence, not to mention talent - because she has none-is torturous to put up with.  He "scientific" conclusions are ignorant and entirely wrong.  For someone so pretentious as to believe she has deep and meaningful,(erratic!) thoughts that she must share with the world, she should be embarrassed.  There is nothing insightful, poetic, or at all interesting in her senseless, ignorant rambling.  "Green"  "educators" assign this book in efforts to show their students how enlightened and ethereal they are also.  The result is a class full of bored, unimpressed students who, for the most part, can put together a paragraph that runs circles around any dribble in Pilgrim.  If this is on your child's reading list - fight it.  There is nothing to gain and hours of learning  to lose by forcing students to read this tripe.  Dillard is pretentious and unskilled in writing, and teachers who insist on this book are pretentious and depriving their student of  time spent reading actual great works of literature and mature, intelligent writing style.  
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
If you've ever enjoyed being outside, this book will take you out there and bring you such joy! Annie Dillard is always a joy to read. Her language bejewels her observations in such a way that one is refreshed, relaxed, at peace. She is a fund of nature experiences and facts and ever interesting. A paragraph is sometimes enough. Perfect falling asleep thoughts.
Holly_Furia More than 1 year ago
Book Review: Pilgrim at Tinker Creek This book, told from the perspective of an unnamed narrator who lives next to Tinker Creek, is written in a series of monologues and reflections. Over the course of a year, the narrator observes the changing of the seasons as well as the vegetation and various animals near her home. This book is divided into four sections, one for each season. The first chapter, "Heaven and Earth in Jest", is an introduction to the book. The narrator describes the location as well as her connection to it. “I live by a creek, Tinker Creek, in a valley in Virginia's Blue Ridge. An anchorite's hermitage is called an anchor-hold; some anchor-holds were simple sheds clamped to the side of a church like a barnacle or a rock. I think of this house clamped to the side of Tinker Creek as an anchor-hold. It holds me at anchor to the rock bottom of the creek itself and keeps me steadied in the current, as a sea anchor does, facing the stream of light pouring down. It's a good place to live; there's a lot to think about.” Touching upon themes of faith, nature, and awareness the book records the narrator’s thoughts on solitude, writing, and religion. I enjoyed the detailed descriptions of the wilderness and the animals. I ended up learning some things about both, that I did not know before. Because the narrator is unknown, it gave the book a mysterious essence. At times, the book was somewhat boring because there wasn’t a lot going on. She mainly sat back and watched. Someone should read this book because it is very interesting and you learn things at the same time. After reading this book, I’ve learned that if you take a second to really look, you might notice something that you never knew was there. I recommend reading other books by Annie Dillard like “Tickets for a Prayer Wheel”, “Living by Fiction”, and “Teaching a Stone To Talk”.
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lavenderlady2 More than 1 year ago
I purchased this book about 30 years ago and am re reading it. I purchased two copies for a friend and my sister. Hope they love it as much as I do. Annie is not only a nature lover but everything she write is so poetic and spiritual in nature.
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