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The Ends of the Earth
In The Ends of the Earth, Merwin has gathered eight essays that display the breadth of his imagination and sympathy. A memoir of George Kirstein, publisher of The Nation, stands alongside one of Sydney Parkinson, explorer, naturalist and artist on Captain James Cook's Endeavour. A portrait of the French explorer of Hawai'i, Jean-Francois Galaup de La Perouse, is followed by a visit to the Neanderthal skeleton of Boffia Bonneval. There are treks through the Hawaiian forests, to the Holy Mountain of Athos and to the wintering site of the monarch butterflies in Mexico. We have as our guide for these journeys, Merwin - poet, and naturalist.
- GenresEssays
First published January 1, 2004
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About the author
W.S. Merwin
192 books347 followersWilliam Stanley Merwin was an American poet, credited with over fifty books of poetry, translation and prose.
William Stanley Merwin (September 30, 1927 – March 15, 2019) was an American poet who wrote more than fifty books of poetry and prose, and produced many works in translation. During the 1960s anti-war movement, Merwin's unique craft was thematically characterized by indirect, unpunctuated narration. In the 1980s and 1990s, his writing influence derived from an interest in Buddhist philosophy and deep ecology. Residing in a rural part of Maui, Hawaii, he wrote prolifically and was dedicated to the restoration of the island's rainforests.
Merwin received many honors, including the Pulitzer Prize for Poetry in 1971 and 2009; the National Book Award for Poetry in 2005, and the Tanning Prize—one of the highest honors bestowed by the Academy of American Poets—as well as the Golden Wreath of the Struga Poetry Evenings. In 2010, the Library of Congress named him the 17th United States Poet Laureate.
William Stanley Merwin (September 30, 1927 – March 15, 2019) was an American poet who wrote more than fifty books of poetry and prose, and produced many works in translation. During the 1960s anti-war movement, Merwin's unique craft was thematically characterized by indirect, unpunctuated narration. In the 1980s and 1990s, his writing influence derived from an interest in Buddhist philosophy and deep ecology. Residing in a rural part of Maui, Hawaii, he wrote prolifically and was dedicated to the restoration of the island's rainforests.
Merwin received many honors, including the Pulitzer Prize for Poetry in 1971 and 2009; the National Book Award for Poetry in 2005, and the Tanning Prize—one of the highest honors bestowed by the Academy of American Poets—as well as the Golden Wreath of the Struga Poetry Evenings. In 2010, the Library of Congress named him the 17th United States Poet Laureate.
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Displaying 1 - 6 of 6 reviews
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October 1, 2014Reading the essays here in random order. The ends of the earth are many and a few are described here.
"The Tree on One Tree Hill" provides interesting insights into the cultural imperialism implicit in the Linnaean system of species categorization. Turns out, Merwin says, that this was a way of acquiring the world, stashing it away for later delectation. Naming itself being "...an act of appropriation, an annexation." I'll have to think about this a little more.
"Snail Song" is in part about the dismal environmental legacy of the Britain and America in Hawaii. Very few, laughably few, indigenous species survive. The unique snail species of the area is on the verge of extinction. Many birds, trees, particularly the unique sandalwood forest, are gone forever. Imagine what the islands must have looked like before the West changed it inexorably.
"Name in the Sand" is the story of Jean François de la Pérouse and his doomed exploratory circumnavigation of the globe in 1785. The mission was underwritten by Louis XVI, guillotined in 1789. La Pérouse was able to send some of the expedition's findings back to Paris by other ships before his own vessels were lost, so there's much we know about the "achievements" of the expedition, as well as the terrible suffering of the crew toward the end. There are many plot twists: cannibalistic natives, the crew's lusty sex with willing native women, machinations at the French court, etc. But then La Pérouse's two ships —the Astrolabe and the Boussole — vanish. And it's more than two years before officials in Paris declare the expedition lost. Then Merwin gives us the elaborate story of what happened. I like the way so many historical threads run together here: both the American and French Revolutions, imperialist expansion, British penal transportation to Australia, etc. Merwin's narrative skills are a delight.
"The Tree on One Tree Hill" provides interesting insights into the cultural imperialism implicit in the Linnaean system of species categorization. Turns out, Merwin says, that this was a way of acquiring the world, stashing it away for later delectation. Naming itself being "...an act of appropriation, an annexation." I'll have to think about this a little more.
"Snail Song" is in part about the dismal environmental legacy of the Britain and America in Hawaii. Very few, laughably few, indigenous species survive. The unique snail species of the area is on the verge of extinction. Many birds, trees, particularly the unique sandalwood forest, are gone forever. Imagine what the islands must have looked like before the West changed it inexorably.
"Name in the Sand" is the story of Jean François de la Pérouse and his doomed exploratory circumnavigation of the globe in 1785. The mission was underwritten by Louis XVI, guillotined in 1789. La Pérouse was able to send some of the expedition's findings back to Paris by other ships before his own vessels were lost, so there's much we know about the "achievements" of the expedition, as well as the terrible suffering of the crew toward the end. There are many plot twists: cannibalistic natives, the crew's lusty sex with willing native women, machinations at the French court, etc. But then La Pérouse's two ships —the Astrolabe and the Boussole — vanish. And it's more than two years before officials in Paris declare the expedition lost. Then Merwin gives us the elaborate story of what happened. I like the way so many historical threads run together here: both the American and French Revolutions, imperialist expansion, British penal transportation to Australia, etc. Merwin's narrative skills are a delight.
January 13, 2014
Better known for his poetry and translations, W.S. Merwin is a gifted essayist, with a distinctive style. Each of the diverse pieces in this collection begins slowly, almost meandering, but somewhere in the middle I would find myself deeply engaged, enveloped in the setting and mood of the essay. It's partly a function of Merwin's fine descriptions of physical settings and the people he meets. Merwin's sentences are heavy with colors, sounds, and textures. He doesn't generalize; he lets the specific speak for itself. Here's an example from deep in 'Reflections of a Mountain', a long essay about a walking trip Merwin took in 1974 on the peninsula of Mt. Athos in Greece:
When I first read it, I let myself be carried along in the flow; but re-reading it, realize how carefully constructed the passage is - the unexpected similes (hidden water skittering like mice), the order of the details (the nearby flowers mentioned first; the larger chapel raised almost as an afterthought), the choice to leave some details out altogether, such as his conversation with the monk (presumably, if they were close enough for Merwin to note the texture of the dirt on the cassock, they at least nodded to acknowledge each other's presence).
Merwin's deeper themes arise organically out of the details, especially in the longer pieces, like Reflections, and also 'Name in the Sand', a biographical sketch of the French explorer Jean-Francois Galaup de La Perouse, who attempted to circumnavigate the globe starting in the late 1780s. Some of Merwin's shorter works are more pointed: two essays on the threats to the winter habitat (in Mexico) of the monarch butterflies, and two essays on the destruction of Hawai'i's native ecosystems and cultures. The opening essay, 'In the Wake of the Blackfish', is (again) a slow-to-start but ultimately moving sketch of a friend and publisher; I'm not sure I've read a more thoughtful account of a close friendship between two men of different generations. The final, brief essay - 'the Stone Boat' -- manages to depict southern France, the character of a local nurseryman, the local discovery of a human skeleton in 1908, and the lifestyles of the Neanderthals who lived in the area 50,000 years ago -- all in twelve pages, and it all hangs together. It's a wonder.
On the way down from Koutloumousiou to the south there is a high arch over a rocky torrent, quiet in the autumn. Stone-covered runnels cross the path, the hidden water whispering and splashing like mice. Rags of clouds appeared up on the ridge, and washed over it. Bright sun on the slope to the south. Where the path followed the side of the valley, in sheltered woods, I came upon a monk down on all fours, gardening, clearing the weeds from the wall below a long bed of flowers that had been tended with love. His hat was off and it was clear he had been absorbed in his work since first light, and that his heart was in it. Wild dianthus were blooming along the path a few feet from the nodding yellow heads of campanulas. The soil was black and crumbly, and his hands and knees and cassock were covered with it. Just beyond him was a chapel newly painted reddish-brown and white, with painted tin cans full of basil plants around the door, and rosemary in bloom at the eastern end.[73]
When I first read it, I let myself be carried along in the flow; but re-reading it, realize how carefully constructed the passage is - the unexpected similes (hidden water skittering like mice), the order of the details (the nearby flowers mentioned first; the larger chapel raised almost as an afterthought), the choice to leave some details out altogether, such as his conversation with the monk (presumably, if they were close enough for Merwin to note the texture of the dirt on the cassock, they at least nodded to acknowledge each other's presence).
Merwin's deeper themes arise organically out of the details, especially in the longer pieces, like Reflections, and also 'Name in the Sand', a biographical sketch of the French explorer Jean-Francois Galaup de La Perouse, who attempted to circumnavigate the globe starting in the late 1780s. Some of Merwin's shorter works are more pointed: two essays on the threats to the winter habitat (in Mexico) of the monarch butterflies, and two essays on the destruction of Hawai'i's native ecosystems and cultures. The opening essay, 'In the Wake of the Blackfish', is (again) a slow-to-start but ultimately moving sketch of a friend and publisher; I'm not sure I've read a more thoughtful account of a close friendship between two men of different generations. The final, brief essay - 'the Stone Boat' -- manages to depict southern France, the character of a local nurseryman, the local discovery of a human skeleton in 1908, and the lifestyles of the Neanderthals who lived in the area 50,000 years ago -- all in twelve pages, and it all hangs together. It's a wonder.
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November 27, 2010I bought this a long time ago at Brookline Booksmith because 1) I liked the cover, 2) the first sentence was good, and 3) it seemed to be a book of essays about nature/travel, which I always love. Reading it, though, is similar to my recent experience with Annie Dillard - although I knew it was very well written and that this guy has won a ton of very prestigious awards, all the essays just seem way, way too drawn out and well, kind of boring. Overall, I just knew reading was supposed to be more fun than this, so I've taken period breaks from it to read other things, but I do hope to finish it eventually, out of stubbornness.
half-read
August 8, 2010Merwin has an odd style that at times bores me and drives me nuts and then really fascinates and captures me. I especially like his descriptions of people and the ways they speak. So often he's elaborating on landscapes and histories and plants, but when he zeroes in on an intimate moment with another person, he's really powerful..
May 22, 2007
With no travel plans to exotic locales in line this year, what better book to read than a series of travel essays by a poet? Ted Hughes gives it two thumbs up. Need I say more?
January 15, 2009
fantastic! Very interesting topics, beautifully written.
Displaying 1 - 6 of 6 reviews