Upstream

I am a little delayed in finishing this review, but in this crazy and cruel world, Mary Oliver’s writing can help one in some small way. In “Upstream” her essays read like poems, her poems are like essays. More than a sprinkling of pretty words, her thoughts here are longer, the analyses deeper. This collection feels like the use of a camera lens, beginning out of focus, then fitting things together in clarity, and blurry again before reversing and readjusting. There is a sweet spot somewhere in there; you will find it if you look. Having my own familiarity with Cape Cod, I enjoyed reading about its landscapes, the fauna including some pets, and a very brief but kind cultural history of Provincetown, all the way at the end of the arm. Found midstream are a few short life stories of writers important to Oliver: a sympathetic biography of Ralph Waldo, a visual portrait of Edgar Allan Poe, and some words on Whitman and Wordsworth. One of the most memorable descriptions, however, was of snapping turtles eggs she collected, rather than letting a raccoon get to them, and how they felt and tasted, scrambled. I’ve been thinking about and doing a lot of photography lately, so like I said, where you choose to find focus, in photography and in reading, you can find whatever you’re looking for.