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Quote by Norman Maclean

“But first of all he is a woodsman, and you aren't a woodsman unless you have such a feeling for topography that you can look at the earth and see what it would look like without any woods or covering on it. It's something like the gift all men wish for when they or young-- or old-- of being able to look through a woman's clothes and see her body, possibly even a little of her character.”

Quote by Norman Maclean

Work

Young Men and Fire

This book investigates a devastating wildfire event and the crew of young smokejumpers who perished fighting it. The narrative reconstructs the disaster, explores the challenges of understanding such a catastrophe, and reflects on the broader themes of human courage, memory, and the search for meaning in the face of overwhelming natural forces. more

Author

Norman Maclean
Norman Maclean

Norman Maclean was an American author known for his works 'A River Runs Through It' and 'Young Men and Fire'. His writing is characterized by its deep insights into nature and human emotions. more

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“O río aínda collía uns anacos da lúa vella, de lúa podre, de anaco de cabazo podre que se despenaba, de manteiga amarela, de luz pegañosa, polas restrebas escorrendo a se derreter por embaixo dos piñeiros de Santa Ladaíña a retrincos aínda máis vermellos, como cando vin o ferro vivo na fundición de Malingre ou o ferro na fragua do Catapiro no primeiro instante da auga, agora sen chiar, alumando de preguiza, sen renxer, manseliño polas restrebas; todo tépedo, calado, arrecendendo a río do verán, á espesidume do cheiro do verán, ás pozas mornas do verán, a cabazo podre, a lúa morta aformentada do verán, escorregando até os enchoupos do brión, cos retrincos de luz amarela, morredía, na auga encol dos cachóns múos do verán, e tantas arrás na espesidume do seu canto no cheiro da lama do verán, e a luz vermella nas pozas e limos apegadizos, e nos coiñais dunha soa cor an espesidume do ar do verán e as sombras medrando medrando, afundíndose, estendéndose sen se ver xa a outra beira do río, xa con présa como apagándose todo decontado, e puña medo.”

“A paisaxe non ten o ledo verdor das terras cháns e abertas que Pedro alvistou dende o tren. O coche vai rolando, a tombos, por gándaras ermas e lombos areosos; baixa polas abas dun monte cuberto con herbas do demo, para caer en tremedales de xuncos; gabea por outeiros con alfarrobeiras e corre por chairas tiñosas. Xa decorreron moitas horas de andadura, a rolar por soedades, e no devalo do día, aparece un casal, alá no fondo, á veira dunha lagoa, espello morto de augas salitrosas.”

“Souls of poets dead and gone, What Elysium have ye known, Happy field or mossy cavern, Choicer than the Mermaid Tavern? Have ye tippled drink more fine Than mine host's Canary wine?” Sweeter than those dainty pies Of venison? O generous food! Drest though bold Robin Hood Would, wit his maid Marian, Sup and bowse from horn and can “I have heard that on a day Mine host's sign-board flew away, Nobody knew whither, till An astrologer's old quill To a sheepskin gave the story, Said he saw you in your glory, Underneath a new old sign Sipping beverage divine, And pledging with contented smack The Mermaid in the Zodiac.”

“Nearly every writer writes a book with a great amount of attention and intention and hopes and dreams. And it's important to take that effort seriously and to recognize that a book may have taken ten years of a writer's life, that the writer has put heart and soul into it. And it behooves us, as book-review-editors, to treat those books with the care and attention they deserve, and to give the writer that respect." Pamela Paul, New York Times Book Review editor, in a Poets & Writer's interview (something for all reviewers to think about)”