10 fortnights shy of 31 and writing such wisdom as this, Mr. Hickman, which is sweet in my heart. I, too, at 71 years old, live not quite as backwater as you, but very rural and no cities in sight for hundreds of miles, with winters where everything closes down and the land becomes bleak, but oh so holy in the vast solitude it invites me into. How timely to read Heavenly Wasteland this morning as I have been on my own the past 5 weeks with my husband on a walkabout, and have been alternating between the rapture of my aloneness and your words, "his changeling waif all at once shapeshifts into a demon, and he is trapped, bitten bloody by his deathly emptiness, humiliated by his idiotic decisions." In your intimate painting of Trout River, I know this is a place I would feel drawn into like a bee into the cup of a blossom. I've always been drawn to places as you describe and are fortunate to have there in your moments of acute loneliness. Thank you for sharing Trout River and bestowing her into my imagination....I already love her deep silence in the winter.
It sounds the kind of place where one might build a sauna, and run from its overly-heated sanctuary to jump into the snow, then, shivering, back to the pine-scented hot air.
If for no other reason but to mimic, and thus calm, your experience of alternating elation and despair with your enchanted isolation.
But that’s probably just my Finnish blood speaking!
PS - Congrats on using “transmogrifying” in an essay. Calvin (of Calvin & Hobbes) would be proud.
Beautiful. I love the little details you add that create a feeling of richness to your experience and recounting of it. I completely agree with the thesis, and you expressed it so beautifully. It is what makes my Grandfather's farm the best place in the whole wide world, the cozy hearth to return to for conversation and wonderful food combined with miles around filled with nothing but cattle and a single neighbor 2 miles away.
Near winter your only companion is your own self when you step on those gravel roads, or even better march through the snow to places unknown.
Lovely, evocative. Is it better to be alone or with people? I can tell you, at 68, it’s still hard to say. There’s a Texas saying that applies to either condition: “I’ve enjoyed just about all of this I can stand.”
Wow, violent Canadian gangs trafficking Mike's Hard Lemonade, who'd a thunk! Beautiful evocation of the remote northern reaches of place and heart. There is a show, 'Escape at Dannemora', which comes to mind, having read this. Thanks for the postcard.
I don’t know if you have access to a TV at all, much less streaming services, but if you ever do you should check out “Escape from Dannemora”. A miniseries about the true story of the prison escape that happened a few years ago, and one of the best works of art about upstate NY
Your thoughts and your writing are captivating. I too spend time in the North Country - a unique world separated from conventional people and places by rugged terrain, water, and borders. Its peace and solitude both calm and disturb me. We aren't alone with our thoughts much in this culture. While we're occupied with worldly things, we can largely ignore uncomfortable thoughts. Solitude gives them free rein and questions about how and why we live demand attention. Embracing solitude with its persistent questions of the soul is deeply unsettling but ultimately rejuvenating.
10 fortnights shy of 31 and writing such wisdom as this, Mr. Hickman, which is sweet in my heart. I, too, at 71 years old, live not quite as backwater as you, but very rural and no cities in sight for hundreds of miles, with winters where everything closes down and the land becomes bleak, but oh so holy in the vast solitude it invites me into. How timely to read Heavenly Wasteland this morning as I have been on my own the past 5 weeks with my husband on a walkabout, and have been alternating between the rapture of my aloneness and your words, "his changeling waif all at once shapeshifts into a demon, and he is trapped, bitten bloody by his deathly emptiness, humiliated by his idiotic decisions." In your intimate painting of Trout River, I know this is a place I would feel drawn into like a bee into the cup of a blossom. I've always been drawn to places as you describe and are fortunate to have there in your moments of acute loneliness. Thank you for sharing Trout River and bestowing her into my imagination....I already love her deep silence in the winter.
It sounds the kind of place where one might build a sauna, and run from its overly-heated sanctuary to jump into the snow, then, shivering, back to the pine-scented hot air.
If for no other reason but to mimic, and thus calm, your experience of alternating elation and despair with your enchanted isolation.
But that’s probably just my Finnish blood speaking!
PS - Congrats on using “transmogrifying” in an essay. Calvin (of Calvin & Hobbes) would be proud.
Beautiful. I love the little details you add that create a feeling of richness to your experience and recounting of it. I completely agree with the thesis, and you expressed it so beautifully. It is what makes my Grandfather's farm the best place in the whole wide world, the cozy hearth to return to for conversation and wonderful food combined with miles around filled with nothing but cattle and a single neighbor 2 miles away.
Near winter your only companion is your own self when you step on those gravel roads, or even better march through the snow to places unknown.
Lovely, evocative. Is it better to be alone or with people? I can tell you, at 68, it’s still hard to say. There’s a Texas saying that applies to either condition: “I’ve enjoyed just about all of this I can stand.”
Keep up the beautiful work. Much appreciated.
That's a fantastic saying, Brad, a saying to which I relate completely.
Enjoy your Sunday, thank you for reading.
I put you up on Notes too.
Wow, violent Canadian gangs trafficking Mike's Hard Lemonade, who'd a thunk! Beautiful evocation of the remote northern reaches of place and heart. There is a show, 'Escape at Dannemora', which comes to mind, having read this. Thanks for the postcard.
Jesus Christ! This is good writing.
This is poetry in essay form.
Cold and beautiful - in your hallowed(/hollowed out?)corner “the earth is more sublime and more compelling”
This essay is pure art & inspires me immensely. Now I’ll go look up transmogrify.
I don’t know if you have access to a TV at all, much less streaming services, but if you ever do you should check out “Escape from Dannemora”. A miniseries about the true story of the prison escape that happened a few years ago, and one of the best works of art about upstate NY
Your thoughts and your writing are captivating. I too spend time in the North Country - a unique world separated from conventional people and places by rugged terrain, water, and borders. Its peace and solitude both calm and disturb me. We aren't alone with our thoughts much in this culture. While we're occupied with worldly things, we can largely ignore uncomfortable thoughts. Solitude gives them free rein and questions about how and why we live demand attention. Embracing solitude with its persistent questions of the soul is deeply unsettling but ultimately rejuvenating.