March 28, 2016

"Every warrior hopes a good death will find him."

One Stab: "I thought Tristan would never live to be an old man. I was wrong about that. I was wrong about many things. It was those who loved him most who died young. He was a rock they broke themselves against however much he tried to protect them. But he had his honor and a long life. And he saw his children grow, and raise their own families.

"Tristan died in 1963. The moon of the popping trees. He was last seen up in the North Country, where the hunting was still good. His grave is unmarked, but it does not matter. He had always lived in the borderland anyway, somewhere between this world and the Other.

"It was a good death."

Jim Harrison, author of Legends of the Fall, the finest American novella ever written, dead at 78. An American.

But before he moved on down the road he had a few things to say.

Legends I wrote in nine days. But that's the only time it ever happened that well. It was like taking dictation … but it was after I'd thought about the story for five years.

I probably wouldn't have been a poet if I hadn't lost my left eye when I was a boy. A neighbor girl shoved a broken bottle in my face during a quarrel. Afterward, I retreated to the natural world and never really came back, you know.

It's just like when I was twenty and my father and sister got killed in a car accident. I thought, If this can happen to people, you might as well do what you want—which is to be a writer. Don't compromise at all, because there's no point in it.

I work every morning, all morning, sometimes in the afternoons. Then sometimes I hunt in the afternoons—quail, doves, grouse up north—but just to stay alive, because writers die from their lifestyle but also from their lack of movement.

The danger of civilization, of course, is that you will piss away your life on nonsense.

You end up missing your dogs.

What's the meaning of it all? Seems to me nobody's got a clue. Quote Jim Harrison on that: Nobody's got a clue.

Death steals everything except our stories.

Now, where did I put my cane?

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Posted by gerardvanderleun at March 28, 2016 10:42 AM
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thanks for this post noting the
Life and passing of Jim Harrison.

Posted by: Albion's seed at March 27, 2016 5:23 PM

He was a favorite of mine, too.

Posted by: David Zincavage at March 27, 2016 5:30 PM

I almost met that death. A bear I thought could be a grizz, by his size. He was actually a huge cinnamon phase Black bear - possibly 600 lbs. Close like that. I'm not that brave; I had a pistol instead of only a knife. My life did flash before my eyes - it is true that happens to you.

RIP JH. It was a good movie but I'll need to live longer and enjoy your books and or poetry.

Posted by: Casey Klahn at March 27, 2016 7:14 PM

First I'd heard of this. Glad to hear the news this way. What a writer, what a life. And Legends is the top of his game.

Posted by: David Gault at March 27, 2016 7:43 PM

I was introduced to his fiction over 30 years ago when I was a teen-aged girl; I learned more about the nature of men - especially their deep lust for good women, affection for drink, communion with woods, and desire to simply "be" - than I ever could have by personal experience. My gratitude is deep because that knowledge spared me much pain and embarrassment over the years.

I saw him at the Bluebird in Leeland having a cocktail when I was nineteen but couldn't bring my silly self to approach him; I was afraid my husband of a week would fawn over him and say something stupid. We're still married and experience tells me I was right to let the man enjoy his bourbon in peace.

Posted by: Amy at March 28, 2016 6:44 AM

The novella was excellent. Make a point of seeing the Brad Pitt / Anthony Hopkins / Julia Ormond movie, which does it magnificent justice.

Posted by: Francis Porretto at March 28, 2016 2:24 PM

Casey

This monster
http://www.poconorecord.com/article/20101119/News/11190341

879 lbs was roaming around in my neck of the woods.

My neighbors beehives attracts them on a regular basis.

Posted by: Bill Jones at March 28, 2016 7:01 PM

Bill: what a bruin! Mine was cinnamon from toe to ear - a real rarity as far as his look. Also, his head was gargantuan: not 23" but I'd be surprised if it was not 18." Big head red, I called him. Also, his shoulder height was about your head height. I have seen a (roadside grizzly) bigger, but it's hell when you're on foot.

I was the only one to see him locally, but for game cam pics but they didn't reveal his size. My neighbor saw the footprint on the road and about had a cow over it.

Posted by: Casey Klahn at March 28, 2016 8:00 PM

My wife and I live in bear country. Our last encounter with a bear hopefully IS our last encounter with a bear. On our regular walk just off our remotely located property, accompanied by our male and female Doberman friends, the female dobbie took off running after something in the sage brush. All of the sudden out of nowhere a very large (they all seem large don't they) black bear announced her presence by rapidly climbing a pine tree about forty feet from where we were standing.

After what seemed like an hour, which was actually about forty seconds this bear dropped from the tree with all four legs breaking off branches on the way to the ground. She immediately stood up on her hind legs and put her fore legs straight up in the air and made a loud noise. We by then had both dogs by their collars and were waving sticks in the air while yelling at the bear. The thoughts passing through my mind were not pleasant. One item coming to mind, "What am I doing out here without a fire arm in known bear country."

I was almost positive she would attack. Then, out of the sage brush wandered two cubs about the size of house cats. Mama bear dropped to her feet in a normal appearing manner and turned away and walked up the hill with her family following.

My wife and I looked at one another speechless. The dogs had been barking like wild beasts and pulling at their collars the whole time and we barely heard them.

Posted by: Terry at March 29, 2016 5:03 PM