Gary Snyder Books

hop up and down in your Teva sandals. Wade the great streams as they roar over round stones down from ancient peaks... dance the silver dance of the wild rainbow... but find a place in your ultralight backpack for this book. It deserves a place next to that bag of peanuts, your titanium cup; worth its weight in gold dust from the river, split pea soup from the pouch. Ancient shaman tales and woodcut journeys... yamabushi of the mind, and lots of white space for taking your own cryptic outerspace trailnotes...

This book is stunning the woodblock prints are so beautiful they almost make you cry. We spend a lot of time in the sierras and this book shows the beauty of these mountains better than any photographs. Get the book
look at the pictures then do your family a favor and go spend time in these incredible mountains.

The rediscovery of Greek and Roman literature kickstarted the Renaissance in Europe. In a similar way, though on a somewhat smaller scale, the conveniently Imagist makeover of Chinese poetry by Ezra Pound and Amy Lowell undoubtedly had a seismic and far-reaching effect on later 20th century American poetry. In his learned Introduction to this outstanding and indispensable Anthology, Weinberger traces the many subsequent debts owed by a galaxy of fine American poets to that seminal work of re-invention. Such impressively talented scholar-translators as Burton Watson, J. P Seaton, Jonathan Chaves and several others receive an honourable mention, though their work is well anthologised elsewhere, and Weinberger's brief seems to have been only to include full-time poets: with the possible exception of Hinton, that is. (However, Sam Hamill's, Arthur Sze's and David Young's names have inexplicably been left out: all three of them marvellous contemporary re-interpreters of the classical Chinese tradition, and all three fine poets in their own right.)

Weinberger concentrates in particular on five exemplary writers: Ezra Pound himself, William Carlos Williams, Kenneth Rexroth, Gary Snyder, and David Hinton. They are certainly all major figures, and it's useful to have them grouped together in this way (particular since the last of them diverges in such interesting ways from the Imagist 'Less is More'tradition: though he certainly 'makes it new' in accordance with that central dictum, which is even quoted in the original Chinese characters both on the cover and on the titlepage).

I thought I already knew quite a lot about American translators from classical Chinese---a whole shelf of mine already groans under their weight---but the William Carlos Williams renderings were entirely new to me, and so were some of the later Pound translations.

For this reader it's hard to contain his excitement at such a beautifully produced edition (only spoiled by a spine-label that's somehow been glued on upside down), and I recommend anyone interested in either recent American poetry or in the classical Chinese tradition to go out and buy it straight away. It will admirably complement Minford and Lau's recent historical anthology of all translations (both European and American, and both scholarly and 'creative'), which of course covers a much broader range, but which is similarly ground-breaking and enthralling to read.

This is a superb anthology several times over. First and foremost, it brings together in one book several centuries of the finest classical poetry from China, starting at the beginning with selections from "The Book of Odes" and drawing a finish line at the end of the Sung Dynasty in 1279. Pretty much all the major poets from the T'ang and Sung are represented here along with earlier masters like T'ao Ch'ien and many interesting lesser-known figures throughout. And in line with New Directions' general attitude that poems should sound like poems, the translations here all flow musically and ring harmoniously in the mind's ear.

Still, there are many other excellent anthologies of Chinese poetry as well. What really distinguishes this one is that all five of the translators are accomplished American poets in their own right. Here we find the eccentric, wildly inaccurate and yet sometimes intuitively ingenious renderings by Ezra Pound, the tersely colloquial if likewise linguistically careless versions by William Carlos Williams, the sensitive and quietly subtle though pretty much reliable verses by Kenneth Rexroth, the deeply spiritual explorations of nature with a counter-cultural edge by Gary Snyder, and finally the translations of David Hinton which alchemically combine poetic sensibility and academic acumen in a proper balance. All in one anthology.

Much more than a mere continuum of accuracy (from less to more) is to be found here, though. Looking only through the somewhat eccentric gaze of these five poet-translators also makes this book something of a history of American literature's long engagement and fascination with the Chinese poetic tradition and, more specifically, of that tradition's influence and impact on modern American poetry itself--a payoff supplemented by the editor's fine introduction discussing this phenomenon in some detail as well as rare, hard-to-find essays by the poets themselves on the subject. Taking this unusual tack also makes this book a study in the undeniably haphazard art of translation itself, for the editor frequently includes different translations of the same poem--seeing how Ezra Pound and Gary Snyder both interpreted and rendered the same original into very different English versions is pretty instructive and enlightening. In one case we are even shown how Kenneth Rexroth translated the same poems quite differently over time, once in 1956 and again in 1970. Personally I found this to be a fascinating highlight really distinctive if not utterly unique to this anthology.

So whether your primary interest is in Classical Chinese poetry or Modernist American poetry, this anthology is a modern classic in and of itself. And if you happen to be intrigued by how these two traditions interacted and entangled themselves in one of the great cultural interactions of human history, this is an indispensable book for your collection.

Stunning photography, intriguing stories, no-nonsense understanding.

The history of Kerouac's 'rucksack mode' culminating with his summer-camp stay atop Desolation Peak in the North Cascades, co-starring Gary Snyder & Philip Whalen.

Not to mention some nice details regarding the famous '55 Six Gallery poetry fete held in The City.

First, and foremost, John Suiter's exceptional photos and detailed biographical text in Poets on the Peaks are NOT, as the previous reviewer wrote, merely "The history of Kerouac's 'rucksack mode'...co-starring Gary Snyder & Philip Whalen." On the contrary, it is so much more than this; it is the story of the 50's Zeitigeist, when much of American cultural discourse expanded to include the more rugged, natural venacular of the West Coast. In this sense, Snyder (born and raised on the West Coast) and Whalen play the leading roles, in my opinion, while Kerouac plays a lesser role (though not slighted in the least by Suiter).

Don't get me wrong - I dig Kerouac. But this fecund book is more about the a cultural movement, say, the interaction between the old, established East Coast literary tradition (from which Kerouac was fleeing but could never quite break away) and the new, wildy independent West Coast tradition, headed up by the likes of Rexroth and Jeffers, than it is about any single poet.

Logistically, the photos are superb. Also, readers already familiar with Snyder, Whalen, and Kerouac will find new tidbits of information here, I think. Suiter simply KNOWS his subject, inside and out, from the mountains to the poets to the sacred Buddhist texts that so inspired them. For example, Suiter's description of Snyder's epiphany on reading the Diamond Sutra while hitch hiking was, for me, simply sublime; but to Suiter's credit, he presents such moments in an understated, matter of fact way.

Finally, I would like to offer a personal insight from the book. It seems to me that an individual can - and usually does, at some point in their life - come face to face with the universe, or in this case the Void so represented by the mountains, and go radically in one of two directions: flip out, like Kerouac, seeing the world as infinitely meaningless, and therefore sad (read: Desolation Angels); or imbue the emptiness, like Snyder (and the Buddhist tradition), with one's own meaning, seeing the world as infinitely playful and beautiful. Artistically speaking, neither response is inherently more correct, I would argue, but the latter is certainly healthier, I should think, judging by how long Snyder has been around (vs. Kerouac's alcoholic demise).

I cannot recommed this text enough.

The cycles of life, and the cycles within our lives and those which can be experienced and observed in the world around us link the poetry in Gary Snyder's Axe Handles. Attracted by the settings of Snyder's California poems, I've been further drawn to the images and experiences described in them. "Getting in the Wood," "Working on the '58 Willy's Pickup," "Look Back," the selections in "Little Songs for Gaia" take me to locations I've experienced physically. Intellectually what attracts me is the sense of cycles perceived by the reader, and the awareness of cycles by poem's persona. "Axe Handles", the title poem, describes such a cycle: the passing of knowledge from father to son, generation to generation. While my personal experiences with the poet's philosophical framework is not as immediate as my experience with the physical settings, I am becoming more aware of philosophies other than those in the framework in which I was raised. Even with this level of ignorance of the neophyte, I experience the thrill of growing awareness when I recognize the wholeness of life experience described in the poem. The poet makes me want to understand more - a gift to me through his words. Not much of a quest so far, but I've found Snyder's memoir of his travels through India, more of his poetry, and the courage to speak with others about Buddhism and other philosophies different from my own; a modest beginning, yet a stretch for me.

This remarkable collection gathers the full range of work from one of the 20th century's most unpretentious experimenters with the form and matter of poetry. Granted, 800 pages is a lot of anyone, even a poet as great and under-read as Whalen, and the gain in information comes with a corresponding loss in shape. Whalen's refusal to separate writing from the business-as-usual work of living gives his poems their special tension--the "nerve movie" that's at once transcription of mind moving and competitive bid to be Art--but also invites sameness and slack, a problem more apparent here than in previous collections, especially On Bear's Head, where the batting average dazzles. Reference-wise though, having this book is like owning a wing of the Beat Louvre, and I wouldn't trade it for all of Mexico City and its blues.

Anthony Hunt's book on Gary Snyder's long poem "Mountains and Rivers Without End" is a first-rate compantion to that complex and rewarding work. Snyder's poems are studded with allusions. Those can create a barrier for the reader who is not familiar with a range of Eastern religious beliefs, the geology and folklore of the Pacific Northwest, or Snyder's long and varied personal acquaintance. Anthony Hunt's analysis guides us along. I found that I would read a Snyder poem, read Hunt's discussion of that poem, and then go back to the original with renewed interest and excitement. In addition, the reader of Hunt's book gets an introduction to No Drama and a discussion of the great Chinese landscape scroll that inspired Snyder, among much other background material. Hunt makes Snyder accessible--a great scholarly achievement!

I bought this book, along with the poetry collection, No Nature, to gain an insight into the work of Gary Snyder, someone I had often seen quoted, but had never read at first hand. Snyder is perhaps best known as a west coast 'nature' poet, a fellow traveller of the 'beat generation', but he is also a prominent Buddhist, bioregional visionary and literary scholar. To judge from this book he is, moreover, an accomplished and eloquent essayist. The essays presented here, articles, reviews, talks and what might loosely be called manifestos, come mainly from the 70s to the 90s and span the breadth of Snyder's interests. Arranged in three sections, Ethics, Aesthetics and Watersheds, Snyder's writing manages to be poetic, religious, political and compelling at all times. Having read this book I feel inspired to read more, I'll try The Practice of the Wild next (more prose), followed by Turtle Island (poetry for which Snyder won the Pulitzer Prize). For anyone concerned to cultivate a humane relationship with the more-than-human world, Snyder is a surefooted guide.

I came to this book as a complete outsider, having no background in Ainu culture. The songs are simply among the most beautiful religious poetry of any culture, any time. I'm so sorry this book is no longer in print - I would have given it as a gift to my friends and relatives.

ZEN PIONEER: THE LIFE & WORKS OF RUTH FULLER SASAKI offers a survey of the life of a spirited Chicago turn of the century woman who might as easily have become a society matron, but chose the path of Buddhism at the time - a path most odd for a woman of her stature and upbringing. She was the only Westerner - and only woman - to be made a priest of the Daitoku-ji temple, and here provides three of her translations, an overview of her life, photos, a chronology and more. As a blend of biography and religious literature, it can't be beat.

Diane C. Donovan
California Bookwatch

John Berryman said that the art of poetry was that of developing a personality in words. Gary Snyder is one of the most recognizable and fascinating poetic personalities of our time. Even when he is absent, he is present -- the details he chooses to focus on, the way of perceiving embodied by the poems, tell us as much about his mind ("a mind like compost," as he writes) as any work by the so-called "confessional" poets; but rather than concentrate on tawdry details and domestic crises, Snyder is more interested in the possibilities of mindfulness, the various ways of living well in the world, of carrying out "the real work". Constantly preoccupied, even obsessed, with questions of what to keep and what to throw out, where to withdraw and where to stand firm (see "Front Lines"), Snyder is engaged in the perpetual task of literature: to save what is worth saving, to make it fresh and pass it along. And his ability to find just the right rhythms and words for every situation, sensation or idea is remarkable. I admire him greatly and am grateful for his work.

I first heard of Gary Snyder when I stumbled across his answer to the question as to whether he would rather hear a poem by a raccoon or a possum. Snyder's answer was: "A raccoon's poem is alert and inquisitive, and amazes you by what a mess it makes. A possum's poem seems sort of slow and dumb at first, but then it rolls over. When you get close to it, it spits in your eye." I am not sure there is a clear cut answer there, but then Snyder, who received the Pulitzer Prize for poetry in 1975 for "Turtle Island," was first identified with the Beat movement before becoming an important spokesperson for communal living and ecological activism, so expecting him to choose between animal poems is probably a tad ambitious.

Snyder's poetry embodies the open-form experimentation of Walt Whitman, Allen Ginsberg and the Beats, as well as various "naked poetry" schools and movements from the 1960s to the present. He has also been strongly influenced at times by Japanese haikus and has listed among his influential/favorite poets Du Fu, Lorca, Basho, Pound, Yeats, Buson, Bai Ju-yi, Li He, Su Shih, Homer, Mira Bhai, and Kalidasa. Called by many a "Zen poet," Snyder's work is as likely to display a sense of humor as it is to deal with theological and aesthetic elements drawn from Zen and classical Japanese culture (e.g, "Axe Handles"). Snyder's earliest poems deal with the images and experiences he had working as a logger and ranger in the Pacific Northwest, which obviously instilled in him a love for not only nature but that which is ancient and mystical (e.g, "For All"). Of course, with a poet, it is always best to let the author speak in their own voice:

"How Poetry Comes to Me"

It comes blundering over the
Boulders at night, it stays
Frightened outside the
Range of my campfire
I go to meet it at the
Edge of the light

"No Nature: New and Selected Poems" contains parts of eight earlier published books by Snyder. This particular volume, published in 1992 and nominated for a National Book Award, contains an impressive selection of Snyder's best work across his long career.

Nowhere in modern poetry is there a poet who sells himself as much as Snyder. His poetry is rarely original and largely, embarassingly pillaged from various other systems and styles, both past and present. He is a preacher first, poet last. He is hell bent on advising the proper ways to live on the earth. Yet every path the man has taken has been to glean from others, to co-opt. We are still waiting for the real Gary Snyder to please stand up. He salutes the cultures of indigenous peoples - but uses their cultures not to help develop his own voice and to make universal connections, but to celebrate their cultures in such a way as to appear to understand them better than they understand themselves, in other words, to be their spokeman. He has a wooden ear for language, except for a handful of early poems. At this point in his career he sells himself with the expert help of an astute agent - as "the first West coast nature poet - which is not true, and attempts to question and qualify the likes of Thoreau. He has produced very little work - most of it recycled over and over in his books. He has a holier-than-thou attitude about people in general which he celebrates with an ego that should by now have proved rather boring to most serious readers. But again, Snyder represents a poet who has gotten to where he now stands by calculated living in other people's worlds and then attributing those other worlds as his - via his writing. Someone who spends all his waking hours championing and spreading his name is obviously working like a devil to get immortalized. Look through all his books - listen for universal voices, try to get beyond Snyder - it can't be done. He should be happy that he has written a few good poems and get on with storytelling, his real strength, if any. We are happy that Snyder loves himself and his life - but sorry he lacks compassion and authentic connection.

This book will change your view of the planet you live on and the life you live on it. Pulitzer prize winner Gary Snyder is a voice that needs to be heard (along with others, such as Wendell Berry)to balance the noise we are inundated with via tv, newspapers, etc. These poems take us beyond issues such as "patriotism" and "nationalism" or even "environmentalism" -- and on to more global and universal citizenship issues of which we all need significantly greater awareness.

Gary Snyder should be on even more bookshelves than he already is.

Gary Snyder is a master of condensation. Somehow, using an economy of words, he conveys a clear sense of "the moment" -- sitting on a mountain top; snuggling by the fire; walking on a crowded street. It's a new kind of minimalist poetry that, once read, makes some of the older stuff seem, well, old. Snyder's forte is poems about nature. One of my favorites, called "Mid-August at Sourdough Mountain Lookout" consists of just 10 lines. But I've read it a hundred times, and the words still ring true in my mind. He writes: "I cannot remember things I once read / A few friends, but they are in cities. / Drinking cold snow-water from a tin cup / Looking down for miles / Through high still air." "On Nature" is a collection of Snyder's best and most important works. I highly recommend it.