Annie Dillard's collection of twenty-four poems, TICKETS FOR A PRAYER WHEEL was first published in 1974, the same year Dillard published her Pulitzer Prize-winning and best-known work, PILGRIM AT TINKER CREEK. In the thirty years since, she has written nonfiction narratives (HOLY THE FIRM, LIVING BY FICTION, TEACHING A STONE TO TALK, THE WRITING LIFE, FOR THE TIME BEING), a memoir (AN AMERICAN CHILDHOOD), and a novel (THE LIVING). By reissuing Dillard's long-out-of-print TICKETS FOR A PRAYER WHEEL, Wesleyan University Press has allowed many grateful readers to finally complete their Annie Dillard collections.

TICKETS FOR A PRAYER WHEEL confirms that Dillard is a poet at heart. In her poetry, like most of her later work, Dillard explores science, nature, time, and theology. Her poetry is related thematically to PILGRIM AT TINKER CREEK in that both books attempt to answer Thoreau's question, "With all your science can you tell how it is, and whence it is, that light comes into the soul?" Whereas we find the speaker of title poem "looking for someone who knows how to pray" (p. 50)--"Who will teach us to pray, who will pray for us now," he ponders (p. 53)--we find Dillard asking the same question in her most recent book, FOR THE TIME BEING (1999). From her first book to her last, Dillard's answer remains the same, "God teaches us to pray" (p. 60). "He has no edges," Dillard observes, "and the holes in him spin./ He alone is real,/ and all things lie in him/ as fossil shells/ curl in solid shale" (p. 61).

TICKETS FOR A PRAYER WHEEL offers both short, accessible poems ("The Clearing," "Day at the Office," "Puppy in Deep Snow") and longer, more challenging poetic meditations ("Feast Days," "Bivouac," "Tickets for a Prayer Wheel"). Wesleyan's reissue also includes an excellent Foreward by Michael Collier.

G. Merritt

Annie Dillard's Tickets For A Prayer Wheel is an impressive and highly recommended collection of lucid poetry, elegantly written in free verse, concerning the mundane, the natural, and the mystical. Matter-of-fact narrative gives way to descriptive elegance of brevity in this inspirational work. Deciduous trees/have dominion. But look on bark;/molds make fruiting bodies/out of air. Winner/take all. Grab/a handle. Earth/rolls down like dolphins dive,/headlong to dark.

Very strange stuff is contained in this hard to find book. Annie Dillard is famous for her Pilgrim at Tinker Creek novel. However, I enjoyed this earlier work much more than anything else I have read by her. The poems range from thought provoking, to totally off the wall. Hardly a one of the poems are short of enjoyable. The title poem is worthy of its place on the cover, it struck a chord with me immediately.

Jamie

Parrish impresses her reader with not only the grasp and knowledge of her material, but with also a certain spice that is often missing in non-fiction. Through her vivid descriptions, the reader is immersed in the Hollins culture. This is most definitely a must for the Dillard and Smith fan, but even more so a must for the reader who enjoys exquisite writing.

The author provides an historical overview of the development of private Southern women's schools from finishing schools to respected institutions of higher learning. Primary in this change at Hollins is the influence of Louis Rubin on both the writing program and the writers that program produced, with many quotes from the students about their mentor. Parrish also gives many humorous and interesting anecdotes about Lee Smith, Annie Dillard and the other subjects of the book during their formative years at Hollins. She shows how their college experiences carried over to their writing both then and through the years since graduation. For Lee Smith and Annie Dillard fans, this book is a must-read.

You have read all of Annie's books. Some more than once. Still, this is a good book for you. It's a little heavy but worth putting in your briefcase and lugging around. Who ever said that beauty comes without effort? So you have the book with you and now if you find yourself in a deserted island, or stranded in the Canadian wilderness in the middle of winter, you are safe. When your soul aches, there is comfort. As you walk to catch the evening train after another day of struggle, the very weight of the book lightens your step. On the train ride home you open it at random and, slowly, light filters in. Sometimes, you soar and loop the air and land gingerly, as if nothing had happened. You read other books. You have to. Still, you carry this book in addition to. You carry it like what? A spare tire? An extra oxygen tank? Maybe. A soft wool blanket. To throw over your heart when it starts getting cold. It's not just little pieces of remembered joy all bound in one. It's that she picked these writings herself and in so doing created something new. There is also this: you can see how The Living was born, see it also reduced to its essence. You see also the works as one work, one life, one life span. So structured, images and themes, recur and bounce, blend and bifurcate, a symphony, a palette, a Fourth of July firework bursting into a million stars, against the dark night sky.

Seeing Beyond: Movies, Visions, And Values is a compilation of twenty-six essays by William R. Robinson and an assortment of his personal friends on the subject of film theory and offering a wide range of commentary and criticism of American and foreign films. In addition to Robinson the contributors include Annie Dillard, Frank Burke, R.H.W. Dillard, George Garrett, Armando Jose Prats, A. Carl Bredahl Jr., Seve Snyder, Vincent B. Leitch, David Lavery, Elaine Marshall, J.P. Telotte, Walter C. Foreman Jr., and Susan Lynn Drake. Each essay is a small gem. Taken together as a whole they form a persuasive argument that movies are a fundamentally revolutionary moral force in contemporary life. Seeing Beyond: Movies, Visions, And Values is an invaluable contribution to film theory and criticism, and a highly recommended addition to both academic and community film library reference collections.

Francie Nolan is a character who will long be remembered by anyone who reads "A Tree Grows in Brooklyn." Bright but lonely, poor but resourceful, Francie Nolan is captured from ages 11 to 16 with poignancy and love. Francie is her daddy's "prima donna" and she treasures his love while fighting to win her mother's. Although she never achieves the place in her mother's heart that her brother holds, her strength and sheer perserverance guide her through difficult times. Like the sturdy tree that grows outside her window and survives all catastrophes, Francie Nolan survives poverty, lack of formal education, sexual assault, extreme loneliness, and lost love.

The reader first meets Francie at age 11 when, as an inquisitive young girl, her favorite time of the day is on Saturday when she can go to the library then rush home with her treasure and read the afternoon away on the fire escape of her Brooklyn tenement. As a young girl, she feels "rich" when she receives bits of chalk and stubby pencils her mother and father bring home from their janitoring job at a local school. She finds simple pleasures in her life, like being allowed to sleep in the front room on Saturday night and watch the busy street below. You will ache to go back in time and be Francie's best friend as she battles loneliness and rejection by her peers but learns to live a solitary life. But, like the tree, she is ready to burst into bloom and when she does it is beautiful to read about.

This book is a wonderful description of life in turn-of-the-century Brooklyn and a strong statement on the hope offered to the immigrants who came to the United States. The story emphasizes quite clearly the value of reading and a good education, but most importantly the strength of family and the dreams that sustain people. As Francie learns, "there had to be the dark and muddy waters so that the sun could have something to background it flashing glory." Young teens and mature women alike will relish Francie's story and hold its message in their hearts forever.

The most amazing aspect of "A Tree Grows in Brooklyn" is its universal appeal to readers of any age, any race. Opening the covers of this book is like stepping into a time machine and visiting the squalor of 1920's Brooklyn, N.Y. Here Betty Smith's descriptive magic plunges you into the ugliness of poverty and the beauty of the people who fought to overcome it... Francie Nolan, a dreamy child who finds her escape in books... Johnny Nolan, her handsome young father, who finds his escape -- and ultimate tragedy -- in the bottle... and Katie Nolan, her beautiful, hardened mother, who realizes that education is the only way her children can escape the life she is forced to endure. Although this novel was written many decades ago, modern readers will find the prose to be shockingly frank and as realistic as it is descriptive. The only fault with the book, which covers the span of Francie's life from birth until college, is that it eventually has to end. No history text can make the past come alive the way "A Tree Grows in Brooklyn" can...no movie can leave its audience with more satisfaction from a story well-told. I dare anyone to read this book and not come away a different person...it is, in fact, a true work of art.

This has been my favorite book since I first read it in 1994 -- dislodging Gone With the Wind since 1986. I have to reserve several uninterrupted hours for reading it because I literally hate to put it down!

The story is about Francie, a young girl in early 20th century Brooklyn, her younger brother Nealy and their housekeeper mother Katie and their singing waiter/alcoholic father Johnny. There is also an interesting sub-story about Katie's close relationship with her own sisters throughout the novel.

But the story belongs to Francie and all the scenes of childhood and adolescence that make up the mosaic of any girl's life: a schoolyard meanness; trying to earn some pennies for candy; planning for the future by putting 5 cents in a little tin can that is your "bank"; loving an imperfect dad and suspecting your mother really loves your brother more .... and the more tragic events: a molestation and her father's death. Interspersed in all of this are snippets of their interactions with friends and neighbors in Brooklyn, a largely concrete sunless neighborhood where, right outside Francie's fire escape, one tree has the courage to grow despite it all.

I don't like using words like "perfect" but I think it is warranted here. This is an incredibly literate piece of work, in which not one single word has been wasted. Each time I read it I come away exhililrated & humbled by Dillard's mastery of language & the enormous depth of scholarship that lies behind every line and every metaphor. This is writing by someone drunk on language & learning, try not to stuff it into any pre-conceived notions of literature -this is music. Dillard has crafted a classical symphony for us in which certain movements come back over and over in variations of harmony and melody that will sweep you away. Now, that being said, I must also say that it seems that half my best students love Dillard & half hate her. Very little in between. Yesterday one of my brightest (who loves Dillard) threw up her hands and said "Now I hate her, I will have to spend seven years reading to know what she is saying". Yes, of course! but the joy of Dillard's immersion in Anglo-American theology and literature is that she draws you along -it isn't name dropping, thesefolks have been useful to her & she wants us to come too. Read Holy The Firm with Eliot's Four Quartets in the other hand, then you can have a go at Johnson, Martin Luther.... AND YOU WILL!

Annie Dillard is one of those writers who is all or nothing. Many people don't "get" her and find her bewildering. But to some of us, she speaks to some unspoken hunger in our souls that we never knew we had. The year after a personal tragedy I read Pilgrim at Tinker Creek and Holy the Firm incessantly, finding in Dillard's thoughts and imagery a necessary verbalization of my pain and spiritual confusion. She is able to capture in one short phrase the complex muddle of emotions found at certain times in one's life and the reader knows that she's been there. To filch a line from another book: "When one walks in the shadow of insanity, the finding of another footstep on the sand is something close to a blessed event." I do not exaggerate when I say Holy the Firm saved my mind.

This is not to say that Dillard is all gloom-and-doom. Many of her lines are extremely witty and can make you burst out laughing with her insight and sardonic humor.

Either she clicks with you or she doesn't. But for those of us with whom she does, Dillard is wonderful.

Someone has compared Dillard to Thoreau. They were right. The way this author fashions her words leaves me wordless. Poetic, poignant, evocative, smelling of life and love and tragedy... just buy it and see for yourself.

The first thing I think I should say is that I don't think I fully understand this book.

The second thing I think I should say is that I like it anyway.

Way back at Tinker Creek, Annie Dillard decided to open her eyes and see what she could see. Pilgrim is a vibrant and enthusiastic book, Annie reacting exuberantly to the things she sees, even the puzzling and disturbing ones.

Nowadays, she's been "seeing" awhile, and I don't think she really likes what she sees. In Teaching a Stone to Talk, there's a deep feeling of unsettledness, of discomfort. Annie sees a world that is silent, beautiful and ugly at the same time, a world that is complex and unyielding to any attempts to make it make sense without closing your eyes.

There's brilliance here I think...of an unsettling sort. Some of her revelations float right over my head. But often she connects, and beautifully. "An Expedition to the Pole" brilliantly and powerfully compares the titled subject to religion and the search for God. "Total Eclipse" and "God in the Doorway" are other favorites, along with "Living Like Weasels" - probably one of her best essays ever, and the only one in this book that actually feels like Pilgrim.

Read an excerpt. there's a link under "book info." See if you like it. I do.

If you'd like to discuss this book with me, or other books, or recommend something you think I'd like, or just chat, e-mail me at williekrischke@hotmail.com. but be nice.

A couple of months ago, I happened upon the wholly enchanting For the Time Being by Annie Dillard. Following up on that, I just read this Teaching a Stone to Talk, and I will certainly be continuing to explore the work of this amazing author.

Teaching a Stone to Talk is a collection of essays that contains some true masterpieces. My personal favorite is the first, "Living Like Weasels," in which Dillard encourages us, and points for us the way, to remember how to live. Others are almost equal. "An Expedition to the Pole" cleverly and poignantly compares the journeys of arctic and antarctic explorers with the goings on in a tiny church congregation searching for God. In "God in the Doorway," Dillard expounds on an encounter with a woman and uses it to illuminate on the nature of God's love.

Teaching a Stone to Talk is a truly amazing work. Whether she is writing about nature, an eclipse, or about a conversation with a small boy, Dillard manages to mesmerize the reader with her words and humor, and she blows the reader away with her wisdom and insight.

.......as can only be expressed by Annie Dillard.

This collection of Dillard's travels and experiences will simply make you want to go out and experience each for yourself!

You will long to find yourself in the midst of a solar eclipse: "The grasses were wrong; they were platinum. Their every detail of stem, head and blade shone lightness and artificially distinct as an art photographer's platinum print. This color has never been seen on earth. The hues were metallic; their finish was matte. The hillside was a 19th century tinted photograph from which the tints have faded...............The sky was navy blue. My hands were silver." Reading Dillard's words has simply made me promise myself that I will not pass from this life without having witnessed the wonder of a solar eclipse.

The remainder of Dillard's expeditions and encounters are equally amazing. Travel with her words and come to know the terrors of the North Pole, the sheer tenacity of weasels, the natural wonders of the Galapagos Islands, the journeys of mangrove islands, fantasic mirages over Puget Sound and much more. Dillard brings each to full life through her descriptions and her thoughts on each. I highly recommend this book to anyone with a sense of curiosity and adventure! You'll love it!

In Living by Fiction, Annie Dillard begins her introduction with, 'This is, ultimately, a book about the world.' I can't be sure of what you're thinking but I wrote 'holy crap' in my margin. She later goes on to explain, 'Fiction can deal with all the world's objects and ideas together, with the breadth of human experience in time and space; it can deal with things the limited disciplines of thought either ignore completely or destroy by methodological caution, our most pressing concerns: personality, family, death, love, time, spirit, goodness, evil, destiny, beauty, will.' It's characteristic of Dillard to deliver a surprising assertion throughout her book, which peaks enough interest that the reader is able to grapple with the theory-based arguments and eventually make one's way to beautiful, gentle explanations that are often times hard to disagree with since she covers many perspectives. Dillard's strength lies in her ability to intertwine theory with her own creativity in writing, making metaphors out of her arguments: 'Science works the way a tightrope walker works: by not looking at its feet. As soon as it looks at its feet, it realizes that it's operating in midair.' This is what we would have imagined a theory book to read like years ago, if a creative writer had written it.

Dillard's main concerns in her book deal with modernism and its place in the contemporary world, the never-ending argument of what constitutes art, and her caution not to commit to any absolutes in the world of knowledge and intelligence. This is the closest that a reader could get to having a conversation with a theorist. At one point when Dillard is discussing the marketplace and Melville's essay, The Encantadas, and how it's always been classified as fiction, she asks as though she's sitting with us listening to the same discussion, 'Is it because Melville usually wrote fiction? Is it because it is a narrative? Is it because the characters are colorful? Is it because it is good? Or is it because much of it is hearsay?' Dillard is reassuring (or disconcerting'depending on how you view the literary world) in her text that there are no absolutes to how fiction fits in the world, how art movements change, or how meaning is made. This book probably addresses a more advanced writer in its focus on theory and non-focus on craft.

I think there are few books about literature as important, erudite, witty or insightful as this one. In typical Dillard fashion, Annie Dillard begins with a rather narrow focus - an interpretation of "contemporary modernist" fiction (a term she hopes will not catch on because it is so clumsy) - the works of Nabokov, John Barth, Jorge Luis Borges, Gabriel Garcia Marquez, Italo Calvino, Robbe-Grillet and Beckett - and then she proceeds to expand her inquiry to include, firstly, the finding of meaning in literature and, ultimately, the finding of meaning in the world. These questions - does the world have meaning? do we find meaning or make it up? how do we best interpret the world? - are questions which dog "Living by Fiction"; rather than gloss over them Dillard investigates them. And she comes up with some surprising - and glorious - ideas. Ultimately, she makes a challenging and vital case for the importance of literature in terms of making meaning out of the world. This is, truly, critiscm at its best. I have no doubt that Dillard's reading of the contemporary modernists will be regarded as seminal in years to come. So for anyone even remotely interested in contemporary literary critiscm, this book is crucial. But the wider scope of the book is one should fascinate anyone who cares about literature and meaning. These are burning questions that Dillard asks. If you've never read Dillard's other works - Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, Holy the Firm, etc. - this is a wonderful introduction into her particular talents and methods. If you're a Dillard fan and you haven't read this one, you are really missing out.

I thought Ms. Dillard distinguished herself with this literary piece of literary criticism. She got into some pretty deep and convoluted places with this book, but I felt that every point was well-made and well-taken. I feel the book is an education in itself. Loved it!

Upon receiving the assignment of posting a review for a piece of nature-related literature in my AP Language and Composition III class, my stomach did cartwheels while my brain collapsed in desperation. Had I not suffered enough? We had finally accomplished the miraculous feat of Thoreau's Walden: Or, Life in the Woods. The looming title, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, sent shudders down my spine. There was no way this high school junior could withstand anymore elaborate descriptions of creeks or lakes or ponds or wherever this Dillard woman chose. I dreaded the return from spring break when we would begin another punish....err, I mean assignment.

Surprise. Annie Dillard writes with the knowledge of Thoreau, but updates and modernizes his transcendental writing skill. At times, I had to do a double take and reread about the wolf slicing his tongue open and bleeding to death, or the poor frog sipped like a kid's slurpee on a sweltering July day. From the world of Eskimos to the mating of luna moths and sleeping with tons of fish in the bed, Dillard's book comes alive with Jeopardy-worthy trivia, up close and personal descriptions, and poetic completions. She employs telegraphic sentences throughout the work, adding spunk and playfulness as well as giving way to awesome transitions. Cramming allusions into every nook 'n cranny, she often questions "the Creator," but ends in praise.

Can I praise Annie Dillard's Pilgrim at Tinker Creek? Although she tosses in a little more Latin and gross observations than I prefer to sink my teeth into, it is a well-written book deserving of your attention. Her spirit is contagious; now will you see the light in the trees?

Annie Dillard's Pilgrim at Tinker creek is a delightfully enjoyable book that transforms the way one views not only nature, but himself. She brings forth the many lessons nature has to teach us regarding philosophy, society, and theology. Boldness is a quality that shone brightly throughout the book. Dillard is not afraid to ask questions that challenge the beliefs of herself and others, and comes to terms with what cannot be explained. She is a seeker of the truth.
Dillard's often humorously detailed descriptions of her encounters with nature are both entertaining and enlightening. She frequently uses telegraphic sentences, which give the book a playful tone, and she approaches nature with that attitude. Laced with scientific detail, her prose often reveals more than the reader wants to know about her subject. Dillard obviously finds every aspect of nature fascinating and draws the reader in with her boundless knowledge.
I read Pilgrim At Tinker Creek as a required reading for Advanced Placement Language and Composition for a high school course. Earlier this year, I was assigned Walden by Henry David Thoreau, which is similar to Pilgrim at Tinker Creek. After struggling through nineteen pages of Walden, I put down the book and settled for Cliff's Notes. Pilgrim at Tinker Creek managed to capture my attention for the entire book. I have found it to be, by far, the most enjoyable book I have read as a requirement for any class. I highly recommend spending some time with this book.

Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, by Annie Dillard, is a delightfully updated version of Walden, by Henry David Thoreau. Both stories revolve around a body of water, either Tinker Creek or Walden Pond. Both transcendental writers are on a solo journey of questioning and thinking. Both stories have passages that are difficult to understand. And both writers have an annoying habit of casually tossing in Latin! However, Dillard's book comes alive with fresh literary techniques that the sometimes-stuffy Walden lacks. PaTC is full of unusual similes, such as comparing floodwater to dirty lace and algae to bright gelatin. Dillard also frequently ends a section with a word or phrase, and then begins the next section with the same word or phrase. She also has a knack for coming full circle at the end of chapters which gives a pleasant sense of completion in the midst of so much information. Dillard is truly a master of transitions, too. Dillard's finest literary technique is her ability to write telegraphic sentences. These short fragments are sometimes quite comical. Clipped sentences like, "So." create a whimsical, playful tone. In parts of my book, I marked, "...beautiful description..." and in other parts, I wrote, "Ugh!" PaTC definitely showcases the extremes of nature - amazing beauty and gnawed imperfection. When these two extremes are observed side-by-side, we observe that our intricate world is teeming with flaws. Dillard frequently questions the Creator, but manages to end the book in a state of "exultant praise." Praise for PaTC is well-deserved. Despite some of its challenging passages and strange observations. it is worth the time to read. Dillard's unique energy will rub off on you as you patiently wait to "experience the present" or see "color patches!"