Islands, the Universe, Home

by Gretel Ehrlich

Gretel Ehrlich’s world is one of isolation and wonder, of pain and grace, and these elements ignite her vivid imagination. She writes of ravens and elk and prairie dogs, and eagles falling out of the sky. She tells of a voyage of discovery in northern Japan, where she finds her "bridge to heaven." She captures a "light moving down a mountain slope." One evening there is a contrapuntal dance of death: a calf she has tried to save, and a friend and mentor both die. She remembers what a painter once told her when she was twelve years old, as he was painting her portrait: "You have to mix death into everything. Then you have to mix life into that. If they are not there I try to mix them. Otherwise, the painting won’t be human."

Through these explorations, in prose that is supple and muscular and evocative, Ehrlich begins to understand her own longings, her own nature, and the relatedness of her life to the universe.

"A volume of ten deep, wandering essays that at times are so point-blank vital you nearly need to put down the book to settle yourself." -- Peter Stack, San Francisco Chronicle

"Her essays, delicately combining interior and exterior exploration, are as spare and beautiful as the landscape from which they’ve grown... Each one is a pilgrimage into the secrets of the heart." -- Andrea Barrett, The Cleveland Plain Dealers

Genres: Essays, Nature, Nonfiction, Memoir, Travel, Environment, Philosophy

196 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 1991

About the author

Gretel Ehrlich is an American travel writer, novelist, essayist, and poet born on a horse ranch near Santa Barbara, California and educated at both Bennington College in Vermont and UCLA film school. After working in film for 10 years and following the death of a loved one, she began writing full-time in 1978 while living on a Wyoming ranch where she had been filming. Her first book, The Solace of Open Spaces, is a collection of essays describing her love of the region.

Reviews

[El · Rating 3 out of 5]

Many moons ago, I was introduced to the writing of Annie Dillard. Her books Pilgrim at Tinker Creek (1974) and Teaching a Stone to Talk: Expeditions and Encounters (1982) showed me that the world of essays can (and often should) exist in nature in order to reach a deeper understanding of ourselves. Had I been introduced to the writing of Gretel Ehrlich, who appears to have taken a cue from Dillard in terms of nature writing (and the larger theme of place in the universe), I might have taken my notebook into the woods to write, never to return until I had written everything I have ever wanted to say.

The ten essays in Ehrlich’s 1991 collection deal her relationship with the natural world. The majority of the pieces take place in Wyoming with her dog by her side or a horse between her legs. She writes about birthing calves and searching for a lost dog and being watched silently by a mountain lion. Ehrlich’s world is vastly different from the world many Americans live in, but that is what makes her voice so powerful. She manages to write about the landscape, the stars above her as she sleeps outdoors, and what it means to be alive in a way that is familiar to any reader.

To trace the history of a river or a raindrop, as John Muir would have done, is also to trace the history of the soul, the history of the mind descending and arising in the body. In both, we constantly seek and stumble on divinity, which, like the cornice feeding the lake, and the spring becoming a waterfall, feeds, spills, falls, and feeds itself over and over again.
(“The Source of a River,” 31)

Through writing about her own humanity through the scope of nature, she allows for the reader to think about her own humanity as well, alongside Ehrlich on the ranch she shares with her husband or floating on a blue canoe on the nine-acre lake on their property.

Ehrlich is the master of asking questions in her writing, pondering “out loud”, so to speak, inviting the reader to join her on her quest to find the answers… the answers which might not exist in the first place:

I’m looking for summer, but I can’t find how or where it begins. Is it a prick of light, the spark from a horseshoe striking rock as I ride into the mountains? Can it be found in the green eruption of a leaf? It’s my obsession, you see, to seek origins.
(“Summer,” 36)

Ehrlich’s obsessions become our obsessions. She is on a quest for home similar as Sandra Cisneros in A House of My Own: Stories from My Life (2015). Their individual landscapes might be vastly different (the plains of Wyoming versus the streets of Chicago and Mexico), but they long to understand themselves through the study of where they are in life and the people they have known. In the process of their quests, both Ehrlich and Cisneros view the world through a universal lens of the written word, a film of lyricism:

Diesel engines roar; I listen for singing.
(“Home is How Many Places,” 148)

Ehrlich reminds me that it’s okay to write poetically, to play with sentence structure, to end an essay with ellipses if necessary, and to get outside more often.

[Bud Smith · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is the second book of Ehrlich’s that I’ve read, and it won’t be the last! There’s no shepherding in this one, as was much discussed in the excellent Solace of Open Spaces. But Ehrlich still has Wyoming as her home base and alternates between commenting on the natural world around her, with the new addition of some travel writing (Japan is a big touchstone in this one). Also something new to her writing is the addition of quotes from other geniuses. Have to admit, usually that endless quoting of others, is something that turns me off of modern lyrical essayists. But I like what Ehrlich chooses to quote and share with us because I find her so wholly interesting, perfectly weird, and someone I would absolutely not elect mayor (a major compliment for a writer if you ask me). About the quotes: She inadvertently recommends some great Japanese novels, and of course can’t resist quoting Lao Tzu every now and then. And now more often than not she tells us what Carl Sagan thinks. True science has entered the equation. The difference between this and Solace of Open Places, seems to be mostly that these essays were written as things FOR magazines. It just so happens that magazines used to support wonderful writing—they used to pay well, they used to have travel budgets, etc. So—this is a great book because we are sending our author to NASA to look at Haley’s comet. Hell, send her everywhere I say. My favorite sections are a procession of the seasons in Wyoming, spring and into a brutal summer, and the resulting massive fire in Yellowstone, how it’s dealt with/not dealt with, and how nature recovers on its own with little interference from man. That summer section was published in Harper’s in 1988. But! The absolute highlight of the book was a little tiny part where she talks about a lake on her property and how the ducks come there, pair up, mate, and then sometimes … just don’t. The bachelor duck she writes about … goddamn it’s so moving. One of the most moving sections of literature I’ve ever stumbled upon. It should be right up there with the famous sections of Proust’s magnum opus. Anyways, pick this puppy up. She’s a master at what she does—writing about the natural world and now with this book, mixing in thoughts about science, philosophy, the customs of mankind.

[Rennie · Rating 3 out of 5]

3.5 I wanted to love this completely like The Solace of Open Spaces, but it felt a bit scattered with too many metaphors/similes, meandering digressions into ideas of philosophy, metaphysics, etc. I really like her nature writing, I especially like when she meditates on inward-looking topics but something was lacking here that made Open Spaces so magical. Maybe it's not even fair to compare them. This one has less of a central topic to gather around and just follows her very smart, well read, dreamy but scientific and nature-loving mind on its wandering through her thoughts, some of her days, travels, and musings on the seasons. Very meditative, still some of the mind-bendingly gorgeous writing that's her trademark.

[Camille Cusumano · Rating 4 out of 5]

I love Gretel Ehrlich's writing - my fave remains "The Solace of Open Spaces." Some may find this text a bit ponderous at times. But I was camping and hanging in the woods of the Sierra mountains so it was perfect company, beautifully paced. I love most nature writers on the West. If you like her writing, I also recommend "A Match to My Heart" - about her being struck by lightning.

[Megan · Rating 2 out of 5]

Enjoyed “Architecture” but the other essays were too unfocused for me. Despite appreciating the beautiful language, I didn’t retain or take anything away from this book.

[Karen · Rating 3 out of 5]

This is a collection of essays, some I like, some didn't. Ehrlich's first few essays about her ranch and the river touched my sense of nature--its pull for me.

The final essay about the Chumash Indians found me on familiar ground. "Island of the Blue Dolphins" was about the the lone survivor on the island after an attack by the Aleuts and her journey and brief life afterward ta a mission in Santa Barbara. I had used this book in teaching literature, travelled to and hiked on one of the Channel Islands.

Overall, "A Match to the Heart" was a much better read by this author.

[Lauren · Rating 5 out of 5]

I loved this book more than The Solace of Open Spaces. Much more. How Ehrlich writes poetically and whimsically about quantum science is a mystery to me; she also connects humans to humans, humans to animals, and humans to nature and the vast world in profound and fluid ways. Her essays “Island,” “Spring,” and “Architecture” are my favorite. In general this collection is as transcendent as it is grounding. I’ll hold this book close for a long time.

[R. · Rating 5 out of 5]

As much as I love Ehrlich’s Solace book, I love this one more. It has interactions and keen meditations on the season, insights from scientists and physicists, philosophy, struggles with yearnings of the heart, a trip to Japan, and a chapter on the architecture of our house – do we invite nature into our homes, or do we wall it out? She wrote “perhaps despair is the only human sin.” Wonderful book!

[Pearse Anderson · Rating 3 out of 5]

Yes, gods of observation and lyrical description exist, and Ehlrich is one of them, but who are we, dear mortals, to peer into the unfiltered, unfocused observations of such a god? How can we not melt away and drown in the details and beauty? Aye, Ehrlich has written a book, but after drowning I am not sure if I'd read it again. Curse ye, mortal coil!

6/10. Took me many months to finish

[Briar · Rating 5 out of 5]

Her essays are make one take a step back and look at familiar environments. Ehrlich doesn't just let what happens to her go unnoticed. She takes what she observes and incorporates what she learns to reexamine her surrounding. I enjoyed the book and will have to read again when back in Wyoming.

[Aaron Puerzer · Rating 4 out of 5]

A really wonderful set of essays. Ehrlich works with nature as it is— not always finding a sense of narrative or linearity, but rather engaging with nature in its beautiful aimlessness. I really want to explore more of her writing.

[David Byrd · Rating 3 out of 5]

Some really great passages in here, but some other material that seemed extraneous. Not sure at this point if I need to read more of her work.

[Braeden Udy · Rating 5 out of 5]

Beautiful, observational essays on the natural world. For lovers of Terry Tempest Williams and Barbara Kingsolver's non-fiction.

[Parvathy · Rating 2 out of 5]

A scattered and unfocused set of essays. In spite of all the lyrical nature descriptions, doesn't grab you at all.

[Carrie Palombo · Rating 4 out of 5]

I wouldn’t say that I loved reading this, but I do recognize that it’s well done! I appreciated how she blends not only nature and poetry, but also culture and personal stories.

[༺Kiki༻ · Rating 5 out of 5]

You might also enjoy:

✱ The Solace of Open Spaces
✱ Upstream: Select Essays
✱ Braiding Sweetgrass
✱ Pilgrim at Tinker Creek
✱ High Tide in Tucson: Essays from Now or Never
✱ Singing Wilderness
✱ The Lonely Land
✱ Desert Solitaire: A Season in the Wilderness
✱ A Field Guide to Getting Lost
✱ The River of Consciousness
✱ Fire Season: Field Notes from a Wilderness Lookout
✱ Smokejumper
✱ Under a Flaming Sky: The Great Hinckley Firestorm of 1894
✱ The Big Burn: Teddy Roosevelt and the Fire That Saved America

[Kate · Rating 1 out of 5]

In the opening canto of "Man With the Blue Guitar," the poet Wallace Stevens plays philosopher John Locke's famous phrase "things as they are" against the refrain "the blue guitar," symbol of the lyric imagination. A similar interchange of outer reality and inner vision inspires the savory prose of Gretel Ehrlich's latest essay collection, her first since "The Solace of Open Spaces"

Islands, the Universe, Home begins and ends in Wyoming, but goes beyond, to the Channel Islands off the California coast and to mountain Shinto temples in Japan, where the author made a pilgrimage. Her essays, however, are not tied to place, and thus these leaps enlarge, rather than jar, her writing; she uses place as a point of departure for her images and explorations of architecture, anthropology, a golden eagle, the Yellowstone fire, physics, time, astronomy, and much more.

Nice reviews, and there's nothing I like better than the interchange of outer reality & inner vision, with a sprinkle of anthropology and a dash of golden eagle thrown in for seasoning. So I expected to like the book.

I didn't much care for this book, however. I thought the author was grasping for lyrical flights of fancy, trying too hard to for witty plays on words and mystical, world-shaking revelations. They all fell flat, and the book never "took off" for me, but remained a read I waded through, like gumbo mud.

[Chris Scott · Rating 5 out of 5]

Second time through this. Gretel Ehrlich may be my favorite living writer, and she balances science with mysticism in a way that feels revelatory and life-affirming. Beautiful collection of essays that I know I'll return to many times.

[Britta · Rating 1 out of 5]

I had such a hard time with this book. I read this for class and I was the only person in my class that really didn't like it. Ehrlich is all over the place in her writing and I had such a hard time focusing. That's not to say she's a bad writer--she is, in fact, quite talented. A lot of my classmates appreciated this lack of focus, but I just couldn't do it. I came out more confused than anything else. I couldn't really even tell you what this book is about. If I learned anything while reading Islands, Universe, Home, it's that I prefer more structure in the books I read.

It was a good reading experience to have--being exposed to a writing style that I'm not fond of--but I certainly don't ever need to read it again.

[Marc · Rating 2 out of 5]

The language seemed forced. Too prosy and too much reliant on sayings by " ", fill in the blank. The essays were not focused on anything ever. I don't crave linearity necessarily but the essay needs a thesis. Hers never had either. Her previous book which I just started seems much better.

I got this book because of the Islands concept, an idea near and dear to me as an evolutionary tool. I have always liked and explored the broadest interpretations of "island" and Gretel Ehrlich makes a very brief attempt to do this also. It was not very insightful though. Interestingly, her last name is the same as a very famous ecologist power couple, and she does reference Paul without any indication that she might be related. I'm not sure she is, just curious.

[Kirsten · Rating 3 out of 5]

i wanted to love this but didn't--maybe i'm not giving enough to my reading these days. i've been tearing through books, wanting them to thrill me, maybe not trying hard enough to be thrilled. i wanted these essays to impress me as much as her essay, 'the solace of open spaces'--i wanted more of her elemental lyricism. oh dear, i wanted this, i wanted that--maybe that's what got in the way.

[Sasha · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book floored me. It deserves a second reading before I write a review here.

It is rare I am hit so powerfully by a book, and particularly by a work of nonfiction. I tend to fall in love with nonfiction because of its subject, not its prose, but the language is rich and full of ache and the essays resonate deeply in my body.

[Ann Michael · Rating 3 out of 5]

I was a little disappointed in this one. I really loved The Solace of Open Spaces and A Match to the Heart, and while these essays (in Islands...) are fine, they didn't wow me as much as her other stuff.

[Katie · Rating 5 out of 5]

I love how Gretel Ehrlich writes, how she sees the world, how she weaves together nature and humanity in prose. Reading her words is so natural to me, like drinking a glass of water -- no struggle, just simple joy.

[Terri Kempton · Rating 3 out of 5]

I wanted to love this, but found Erlich almost frantic in her writing. The pacing is off and she skims through deep thought after deep thought without actually pausing to reflect, or allowing us to reflect for her.

[Ed · Rating 5 out of 5]

Hard science meets Eastern philosophy in essays that describe fascination with the sacred in the natural world, mainly Wyoming and Japan but also California and Hawaii. For people who like science, nature writing, Eastern religions, the American West.

[Deanette · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is another excellent collection of essays and observations on living, nature, etc from Gretel Ehrlich.

[Judy · Rating 3 out of 5]

I enjoy her writing style. This did hold up to Solace in Open Spaces. Her reflections on Wyoming country are the best. Her experience of the yellowstone fire in 1989 was especially poignant.

[Sue Lipton · Rating 3 out of 5]

Here's what I think must have happened: Horace Kephart went to Wyoming, married Annie Dillard, and they had this daughter named Gretel……..

[Eric · Rating 5 out of 5]

These contains some of the finest essays I've ever read. Try it.