|
The 'Voices Of The American West' Series Closes This Month With Readings By Terry Tempest Williams And Simon Ortiz.
By Richard Shelton
TERRY TEMPEST Williams is a writer with such passion that
her nonfiction often bursts into poetry. Simon Ortiz is a poet
who writes with such conviction he often turns to nonfiction to
reach a broader audience. Both make appearances in Tucson this
month as part of the Voices Of The American West reading
series, sponsored by the English Department and the College of
Humanities at the University of Arizona.
To both writers, the Mormon woman and the Native American man,
the Western landscape is sacred; but Ortiz treats it as something
holy, whereas Williams approaches it as something sensuous, even
erotic.
In Desert Quartet: An Erotic Landscape, she writes: "I
am dizzy, I am drunk with pleasure. There is no need to speak.
Listen.
Below us.
Above us.
Inside us.
Come.
This is all there is."
And in A Good Journey, Ortiz says: "These few things
then/I am telling you/because I do want you to know/and in that
way/have you come to know me now."
Until her recent move to Castle Valley, Utah (near Moab), Williams
lived in Salt Lake City, where she was Naturalist-in-Residence
at the Utah Museum of Natural History. Her five books of nonfiction
and passionate environmental activism have earned her a Lannan
Foundation Award, a place among the UTNE 100 list of "(People)
who could change your life," and a prediction by Newsweek
to make "a considerable impact on the political, economic
and environmental issues facing the western states in this decade."
She has also received the bitter, angry words of many of her neighbors
in Utah who oppose her views on the environment.
Terry spearheaded the successful attempt recently to save the
Escalante Staircase region of Southern Utah, which was given National
Monument status to prevent extensive coal mining and other destructive
activities. First she went to some of the state's elected officials,
and they laughed at her. That was a serious mistake on their part.
The next door she knocked on was Robert Redford's. He said, "Let's
go," and they went. Goddard, Gore, and even Clinton got on
their bandwagon. If Terry Tempest Williams were ever to run for
president, she would, I firmly believe, be elected...but it would
be a terrible waste of good material.
Her book Refuge juxtaposes her mother's dying of cancer
with the simultaneous rise in the level of Great Salt Lake and
its effect on the birds in and around the neighboring bird sanctuary.
It's filled with passionate grief. Many have told me that they
wept while reading it, as I did. And yet, as Wallace Stegner said,
"Terry Tempest Williams is too full of life herself, and
too fascinated by all its manifestations, to write a gloomy book.
There isn't a page here that doesn't whistle with the sound of
wings."
SIMON ORTIZ, THE final reader in a series that has included
William Kittredge, Annick Smith and Luis Alberto Urrea, is the
author of more than a dozen books. He writes poetry, nonfiction,
fiction and children's books. Raised on the Acoma Pueblo Reservation
in New Mexico, he later worked in the uranium mines nearby, as
did many men from the Acoma Reservation.
Ortiz is a storyteller with a sharp point, a wise elder with
a disturbing message hidden beneath his peaceful and kindly face.
"I tell about myself," he says, "so non-Indians
can see themselves much more honestly, much more clearly."
And we do.
His work, however "clearly" it makes us see our cultural
failings in regard to Native Americans, is tempered with a sweetness
and a gentleness that is rare today. His dry, wry sense of humor
is always understated. His poem about a woman who calls him because
she is in search of a "real Indian" to put on a float
in a parade has got to be a classic of contemporary Native American
literature--or any kind of literature. The more you think about
it, the funnier and more horrible it gets. That's great writing
in my book: that fragile and permeable curtain between humor and
pain. Wasn't it Aristotle who said all humor is based on pain?
Ortiz has, for a long time, been regarded as one of the most
important Native American poets in this country; but here he takes
his place as a major voice in the field of nonfiction. Please
don't ask me to draw hard lines with either of these writers.
Where does the poet begin and the nonfiction writer end? It's
the chicken and the egg, the tree falling in the forest, the unanswerable
question. And it might be that very thing, the willingness of
these writers to ignore genre lines, to cross borders artistic
and cultural, that gives them the edge they need to reach, really
reach, their communities--and ours.
Voices of the American West concludes with a reading
by Terry Tempest Williams on Tuesday, April 6, and by Simon
Ortiz on Tuesday, April 27. Both readings are free and begin
at 8 p.m. in the Modern Languages Auditorium, on the UA campus. For
other information, call 621-1044.
|
|