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Bones Incandescent - The Pajarito Journals of Peggy Pond Church (Hardcover)
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Bones Incandescent - The Pajarito Journals of Peggy Pond Church (Hardcover)
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A "personal ecology" is what poet and writer Peggy Pond Church
called the journals she kept for more than fifty years on New
Mexico's Pajarito Plateau. Church's work appeared regularly in
Poetry and Saturday Review of Literature and her biography of Edith
Warner, The House at Otowi Bridge, became a regional classic. She
had a profound relationship with the place now known best for the
Los Alamos laboratories and the Manhattan Project. The journals
from her childhood in the 1930s through 1986, the year of her
death, are studies in spiritual and psychological responses to the
landscape that informed her sensibilities and creative energy. The
plateau she loved became both her subject and the basis of her
connection to other women writers, particularly Warner, Mary
Austin, and May Sarton. Church, Armitage says, has given us an
extended lyric, essential to the growing critical awareness of
women's autobiography, landscape studies, and creativity: The earth
was not to us entirely a benign mother, but a place of uncertainty
and strangeness. A chaos existed beneath our feet that broke forth
occasionally in our dreams . . . I was ten and a half years old
when I first saw Pajarito and experienced what it was like to live
within the boundaries of a once sacred world. Two strains--earth as
persona for mighty mother, terrain as sacred in its own
right--become threads of consequence that Church herself retraces
in editing the original journals. In an internal dialogue
documented "by the red of Church's typewriter ribbon responding to
its original black," Armitage notices the imprints of earliest
childhood: I remember at Pajarito when I first fell in love with
dawn, how I used to go out before daybreak in my bare feet and
khaki middy blouse and bloomers, tiptoeing down the steep stairs
between my parents' room and mine . . . the pale predawn sky
arousing a resonance with all my life's dawn hours . . . the
silence of a wordless world.
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