(1.31-32)ĭillard's big on that bell thing.
I am an explorer, then, and I am also a stalker, or the instrument of the hunt itself. I walk out I see something, some event that would otherwise have been utterly missed and lost or something sees me, some enormous power brushes me with its clean wing, and I resound like a beaten bell.
Here's how she describes herself and her mission: If there's one thing she's good at, it's obsessive examination. When Dillard goes out into the woods to look at nature, she's not content to just look she wants to really see. Well, maybe she is, but she's the good kind of freak-the kind who can tell you everything you ever wanted to know about saints and Eskimos, if you can get her off that log she sits on by herself all day, watching for muskrats. Is human culture with its values my only real home after all? Įither this world, my mother, is a monster, or I myself am a freak. It looks for the moment as though I might have to reject the creek life unless I want to be utterly brutalized. She's not afraid to be alone, and if she has to separate herself from humans to understand the human condition, so be it.Īfter a few months at Tinker Creek, however, she's seen so many bloodthirsty mantises that nature is beginning to seem like a nightmare. "I had thought to live by the side of the creek in order to shape my life to its free flow" (10.56). "Must I then part ways with the only world I know?" she asks. Now picture the exact opposite of that girl…and you have yourself a vision of Annie Dillard.ĭillard wants to pare down her life and expand her consciousness, and she don't need no stinkin' roommates. You never see her anywhere without at least one friend on either side, and she's always falling asleep in class because she stayed up too late chatting online. If you want to know the latest gossip, she's obviously the person you ask. She never stops texting, she sends constant Facebook invites, and she can't eat lunch without Instagramming it. Quick: Think about the most social girl you know.
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