A Snyder Primer
In this meditation about the intersection between hiking
and zen, Christopher Ives has done an important thing. He has normalised some
of the information that has long been seen as important to those interested in
Eastern Ideas and wilderness and made it accessible to everyone. He deserves
for this book to be a great success and widely read, because it leads the
reader through several layers of understanding. Some people who have read more
widely can drop in at a deeper level, but for the interested novice it is a
good introduction to a whole range of ideas that are a rich starting point.
The meticulous research and marshalling of different
sources means that it is easy to put down to look up an idea, and return to
when you have read up a little.
In particular it is clear that Christopher Ives is an
enthusiastic disciple of Gary Snyder. I go so far as to say that in this area
he is well qualified and deserving to take on Snyder’s torch and carry the message
on to a whole new generation of readers. He is modest in referencing his own
background and credentials.
The range of stopping-off points in the text is
impressive and I am tempted to go back through the book more thoroughly and to
explore the footnotes and dip into some of the more demanding texts that are
referenced. In this sense it is a real primer for the outdoors and how we
understand it.
The writer is open to ideas from all cultures and his
depth of knowledge is impressive – it’s not all zen, and obviously not all done
for soundbites, but rather as a result of a lifetime of careful exploration.
There are several pleasant touches that impressed me. Mr
Ives has probably been made aware frequently about how the language of zen is
male dominated, and so deliberately describes his pilgrim as female. It is just
a little twist to show that he understands and appreciates who might be
reading. He is inclusive. He is also generous and understanding about the fact
that we are not all privileged and can’t all spend a weekend hiking in the
American wilderness. He spends time giving examples of where and when we might
all have the opportunity to experience the feeling of detachedness from the
normal, even if only for a moment, or in our back yard.
The book was written in 2018, and I read it in 2020, with
all the restrictions that entailed. I am glad I did. I felt at the beginning of
the year that the chance to return to the open spaces might never happen again.
Even though the book is a serious piece of reflection, there was also an
escapism in sharing the writer’s experience of packing up and heading out.
If you are the sort of person who has always meant to go
out for long walks but never had the time, this book is for you. If you are the
kind of person who walks every day but wishes he or she could do more (like
me), then this is a book for you. And if you are a person who wants to start
the interior journey, this is definitely the book for you.
