Harrison (1937-2016) was a larger-than-life force during his prolific career, creating 18 poetry collections, 21 works of fiction, several screenplays, five volumes of of nonfiction, and one children's book. Spanning 45 years, this new bevy of essays and musings bursts with insight, adventure, and well-lived experiences, from literature to fishing and hunting to life in Michigan's UP, Montana, Patagonia, and Arizona. Harrison considered himself a poet who pushed himself to write fiction, screenplays, and magazine assignments to support his family. In "Why I Write, Or Not," he shares an exchange between himself and fellow poet Charles Simic, observing, "We know a great deal but not very much." And: "historically art and literature are as natural as the migration of birds or the inevitable collision of love and death." Although the subjects in Harrison's rich, vibrant, and enjoyable essays were at times steered by who was footing the bill, his writing is always and truly "genuine." Forthright, perpetually curious, and compassionate, Harrison remains wholly compelling and readers will be grateful that this buoyant, observant, and caring writer took time away from his sublime poetry to create these enriching essays.

New and previously published essays, reviews, and travelogues by Harrison (1937--2016) come together in this rewarding trove of true-life tales and reflections from the restless Legends of the Fall author. The entries are grouped thematically and take readers through Harrison's thoughts on "love, spirit, and literature," lifelong passion and reverence for hunting (mostly game birds, with lovingly astute attention paid to his hunting dogs), contemplation of his home turf in "Michigan, Montana and other sacred places," and passion for fishing and being on the water. In "Meditations on Hunting," he muses that "the natural world is an enormous mystery and I married her very early," while in "Thoreau," he covers his "idiosyncratic relation" to the writer's work. One of the longer pieces, "Life on the Border," delivers a picturesque take on the frontier region where Arizona and Mexico meet: "Those in the border states see the horror no one else sees," he notes, "because it is not a discursive media abstraction, but flesh-and-blood suffering." When read chronologically, the pieces evince an evolution in tone and style and document the author's assured knack for his craft. Harrison devotees will eat this up. (Sept.)