You will never again see a mountain river surging past an isolated home, cascading over ancient rocks and raising the gentle cries of birds, without being struck by its awesome influence, the turbulent life it encourages.
In Barry Lopez’s critically acclaimed first work of fiction, Desert Notes, he brought alive for the reader a desert sprung from his imagination into a fresh reality of new peceptions. In its companion volume River Notes, Lopez takes us into a different country where a nameless river flows through an animated world of herons, bears, and human beings.
There is violence here, in the conflict of natural forces, in the people touching the river. There are landscapes, physical and spiritual, that we have not sensed, rituals we have not understood. Like the earlier peoples of our land, and like few American writers who have reentered this world, Barry Lopez respects the river and its imperatives, understands the language of cottonwoods and the salmon, and brings us in an extraordinary dance with a heron to the oneness with nature which is our heritage. ... [i]n these haunting, passionate stories Lopez brings us home to a deeply comforting unity with the natural world.
Barry Holstun Lopez is an American author, essayist, and fiction writer whose work is known for its environmental and social concerns.
Lopez has been described as "the nation's premier nature writer" by the San Francisco Chronicle. In his non-fiction, he frequently examines the relationship between human culture and physical landscape, while in his fiction he addresses issues of intimacy, ethics and identity.
While I am reading Barry Lopez's magnificent new book Horizon, I am also re-reading his other works between its chapters. I originally read his other books when they were published many years ago, expectantly purchasing them as soon as they were issued at bookstores throughout the West, following the career of an amazing writer, and occasionally getting them signed at author events.
At the time, I thought his fictional "Notes" series of three books (Desert Notes, River Notes, and Field Notes) was remarkable even in the then very active field of environmental/nature writing of the 1970s and 1980s. This was the almost mythical time of Edward Abbey, John McPhee, Wallace Stegner, and many others. Now, Lopez's early books stand out as exceptional writing far above the current standards and taste, in any genre. Highly recommended for their literary depth, mystical insights, poetic music, emotional power, and uniquely evocative language.
"To stick your hands into the river is to feel the chords that bind the earth together in one piece." - Barry Lopez
Lopez' short work is full of the loose mysticism of a man immersed in the eternal oneness of the world. If that's not your thing, so be it. If it is, few write it better than Barry. In his world, people (when still enough) slowly erode and dissolve into the river. You can talk to the trees to get the lowdown on the heron. It's natural/magical realism to be sure, but the real magic is watching Alvarez subsume himeslf in oneness until he becomes the moss on the tree trunk, becomes the silent water drop on a heron's wing, becomes a note in the song of the river, becomes a piece of rather than a piece in the landscape. I prefer his observational notes to his short stories, but he brings to each piece the kind of insight that comes only from stillness and patience.
Profound. Take the keen observations of a Buddhist monk, the extraordinary style of an E.B. White and this is what you get. The negative space around the descriptions; the modesty of man's sense of himself in nature, makes a lot of other writing look manic, and like swagger. He has put himself in the service of nature by sitting by a river and just watching....for weeks.
The companion to "Desert Notes," this book was my farewell to the water-rich country of my youth, when I moved to desert lands, and it was my look back to all the woodland places I explored when I was a child. Again, Lopez mystical touch and lyric skill with words is transporting, uplifting, and often haunting. These are stories whose point is in the reading, in the knowing more than the end.
I do not really understand this book. I wish I did because I admire Barry Lopez greatly.
Eleven short stories, seemingly interconnected and sounding narrowly autobiographical at the levels of touch, sight and sense, present characters who share ways of life on an unnamed Pacific Northwest river but are separated from one another by their psychology and their flaws. Even when nature runs amok, with fire and flood, the human beings, so conflicted, so easily thwarted, show up poorly against Lopez's depictions of the natural world. Nevertheless, together they make a kind of unintended community, begrudgingly responsible for one another.
For the reader, experiencing this book is walking a thin line, half in and half out, between fiction and nonfiction. The prose is quite specific, yet somehow, you don't know where you are. These characters are not people we identify with, in the literary sense. Partly, we recognize them as archetypes, symbolic, even allegorical. They teach (us, themselves) lessons. They experience the landscape spiritually and materially. One is deeply callous while another is wracked with guilt about the necessary ego involved in creating any sort of art. Readers can't help guessing that Lopez is talking about writing, about his craft. At the same time, the characters' choices often seem so wack, so out of keeping with what a reasonable person might do in a similar situation, it is difficult to see oneself in them. They are one thing and another.
Lopez has a new book out, Horizon. Before I read it I wanted to re-connect with Lopez's work by reading one his older efforts. I have read a good deal of this material already. It's been a minute, though. Hence this choice.
If you are looking for a novel, this is not the book you are looking for. If you are looking for a piece of beautiful free-form poetry then this book will more than leave you satisfied. Take time with this book. Allow the river to flow through you at your own pace. Allow yourself to pick it up and put it down base on your mood and there is a good chance that you will find this slim volume immensely satisfying.
River Notes: The Dance of Herons is a mystical book about the life of a river. It’s simply beautiful nature writing at its best. I first read this book in the early 80’s and its beauty and impact remains true all these years later. This was the first book that made me cry. If you’ve never read Barry Lopez, this book and Desert Notes are great titles to start with.
I return to this slim volume often. The introduction and first essay/story, The Search for the Heron, I know almost by heart. No one evokes nature as Barry Lopez did.
This may be the most "traditional" of Lopez's NOTES trio, at least in its structure. The flow and shape of rivers guides all. But the book is still its own kind of ardent brew of fiction/nonfiction. Lopez isn't afraid of going over the top with language or love of place. For me, his patient attentiveness to flora and fauna outweighs the missteps. My favorites in this one: "The Falls" and "Hanner's Story." Those choices probably say more about me (in this century) than Lopez in the last. A potent read for those who want to think of American landscapes as they never have before.
This book was such a beautiful little gem. I found this tiny volume at a free bookstore and snatched it up for the title alone.
Little did I know I was picking up eighty pages of gorgeous prose that would make me wonder of trees and breath and water and death.
Instead of plot or characters or a sequence of events this book is held together by a river. I'm not kidding. Normally, I would have thought this book messy and disorganized. But guys... this book is all prose, so beautiful it doesn't need anything else.
i can see why i loved this so much when it came out, and why i still love it. this is writing of the Green Revolution before it existed, poetic prose that is sacred in it's handling of the subject matter. onto desert notes.
I was fully consumed by Lopez and the river at times. Poetic and beautiful, written by someone who feels a oneness with nature that I only brush the edges of at my finest moments. I read a few passages aloud to a friend that I found especially powerful.
Another rich collection of Lopez stories, more focused and vivid than Desert Notes, but still claiming that surreal quality that his landscape writing seems to possess so well.
Perhaps the capsule review from the Denver Post printed on the back cover of the Avon edition summarizes this book best: "A prose poem, a love song to a mountain river, an almost primeval prayer to the glorious power of nature...a heady distillation of everything mystical yet comforting in the mountains around us."
At first, I was put off from reading this book, which I found while browsing the shelves at a used bookstore. The introduction had me rolling my eyes, and the first section, "The Search for the Heron," was too lyric and not grounded enough in reality to suit me. But, I persevered and got to the second section, "The Log Jam." From that point to the end of the 11th and final section, I was enthralled, bowled over, and captivated (with the exception of the second-last section, "Upriver"). This short book joins my treasured collection of the best nature writing--and not only nature writing, but writing in general. Lopez is a master craftsman.
An evocative line that characterizes much of Lopez's writing in this book: "Beneath them [salmon], the river undulated, like sun-dried bed linen shaken out in a French hotel room in the countryside. (From "Dawn," the ninth section)
"There are those who say that things were once better in this valley, that many years ago there was a different kind of life. I have listened patiently to these stories. They are idyllic and farfetched. I believe they represent hopeful longing on the part of those who tell them..." In this poetic ode to a river and its many stories, the author speaks with awe and respect, wishing to honor the river and the power it possesses, but he does not idealize it. In a series of short stories, Lopez visits the river and its inhabitants, its friends and its enemies, the visitors who are drawn to it, and the intruders who don't understand it.
Absolutely beautiful, writing to take your time with and fully absorb. I liked this much better than Desert Notes, kinda makes me want to write my own desert, river and mountain notes. Next I'm going to buy his Field Notes, hope it's as good. I remember buying these 3 books back in the 80s or early 90s and being in love with this one in particular, found them again in an air bnb library, ordered Desert Notes and River notes, and am not disappointed (though Desert Notes didn't resonate as fully with me; the writing in River Notes is far more stunning).
I may not fully comprehend of what is being told in this book, (because im from a foreign country) but as i read each and every word, phrases, sentences of it, i feel like i am relatively connected inside. I love the essence of reading this, i am bewildered by how good Barry is, from changing the perspective to another point of view, and how good he was to hearten the emotions of his reader. Sometimes it looks like He is narrating, telling or observing. I just love this book. 5⭐🖖
Such a wonderfully poetic collection of natural/mystical observations to completely lose yourself in. If memory serves, I sought this little work out after hearing patti smith praise it - and she was absolutely right. The writing is unusual, humble, so evocative.
Lots of beautiful parts and beautiful writing, when it's good it's really really good. Felt so deeply connected and inside the places he wrote about. Appreciated the mystical and silly parts of it too. There were also parts that were more difficult to get through, that felt a little meandering.
Having just crawled out of the second largest canyon in America, I stood at my bookshelf shuffling between this, A Sand County Almanac, and Loren Eiseley, so I suppose you could say I was in the mood for what is sometimes called nature writing. This little nugget did not disappoint.
As a reader who prefers their natura americana to lean more towards the poetic than the scientific, Lopez’s dreamy musings were medicinal. I’ll leave you with my favorite scene: the narrator, having been bedridden with depression for a long time takes advantage of a “flat spot in [his] depression” to walk out to the river and kneel beside it. From there, he imagines a hawk passing overhead, and himself appearing as natural a part of the river from the hawk’s perspective as a salmon or a flower: an imagining that dismantles his loneliness.
This was really lovely, but I guess I went in expecting it to be more like Desert Notes: Reflections in the Eye of a Raven--so, not totally nonfiction, but certainly... semi-fictional stuff about a place. River Notes, turns out, is more a collection of actual fiction, place-focused but also largely about people, which isn't so much what I read Lopez for, much as I enjoy his prose.
Ok, you're thinking why did she read this? It was in the library and 1)I'm looking for books guys at school would like to read that are also short 2)Ken just did a report about the Heron so I thought maybe it would be cool. No. Too much thinking, maybe if I was under the influence of something I would see the point but,....No.