Wilderness and Razor Wire: A Naturalist's Observations from Prison - Couverture souple

Lamberton, Ken

 
9781562791162: Wilderness and Razor Wire: A Naturalist's Observations from Prison

Synopsis

From Mark Slouka, San Francisco Chronicle: Ken Lamberton would like you to believe his book, ``Wilderness and Razor Wire,'' is about the smell of creosote and rain on the wind, about hawkmoths dipping from the wells of cactus. Don't believe him. Don't be misled by the drawings of brittlebush and silverleaf oak (all done by Lamberton himself), or the well-intentioned, avuncular foreword by Richard Shelton, who taught Lamberton writing in prison workshops and at the University of Arizona. Though the nature writing here may be some of the best to come our way in a generation, this is not first and foremost a book about poppies and peppergrass. It is about the soul in pain. Reading it is like chatting with someone on the street and suddenly noticing there is blood running down his side. All of which is to say that Lamberton (for the past 12 years an inmate of Tucson's Santa Rita Prison) has written something entirely original: an edgy, ferocious, subtly complex collection of essays on the nature of freedom and the freedom of nature, whose true subject, and greatest accomplishment, may be its own narrative voice.

Les informations fournies dans la section « Synopsis » peuvent faire référence à une autre édition de ce titre.

Présentation de l'éditeur

From Mark Slouka, San Francisco Chronicle: Ken Lamberton would like you to believe his book, ``Wilderness and Razor Wire,'' is about the smell of creosote and rain on the wind, about hawkmoths dipping from the wells of cactus. Don't believe him. Don't be misled by the drawings of brittlebush and silverleaf oak (all done by Lamberton himself), or the well-intentioned, avuncular foreword by Richard Shelton, who taught Lamberton writing in prison workshops and at the University of Arizona. Though the nature writing here may be some of the best to come our way in a generation, this is not first and foremost a book about poppies and peppergrass. It is about the soul in pain. Reading it is like chatting with someone on the street and suddenly noticing there is blood running down his side. All of which is to say that Lamberton (for the past 12 years an inmate of Tucson's Santa Rita Prison) has written something entirely original: an edgy, ferocious, subtly complex collection of essays on the nature of freedom and the freedom of nature, whose true subject, and greatest accomplishment, may be its own narrative voice.

Les informations fournies dans la section « A propos du livre » peuvent faire référence à une autre édition de ce titre.