Barry Lopez had no illusions about the seriousness of our global crisis,
yet he also felt a deep conviction about the power of hope and the
sources of renewal in the living world. Syntax of the River is an
extended conversation spanning three days between Lopez and Julia Martin
in which he explores what this juxtaposition means for him as a writer.
On the first day Lopez reflects on years watching the McKenzie River
near his home in Oregon. He describes the quality of attention he
learned from intimacy with the place itself: a very fine distinction
between silence and stillness, the rich complexities of the present
moment, and the syntax of interrelationships between living things. The
second day is concerned with craft: the work of making sentences and
books. Lopez shares his practical strategies for writing and revising a
manuscript and goes on to speak about vulnerability. He says he often
experienced a deep sense of doubt about his capacity to achieve whatever
he was trying to do in a particular project. Over time, though, this
characteristic experience of not-knowing became a kind of fuel for his
work, and even a weapon at times.
On the final day, Lopez ponders the idea of writing as a praxis, a way
of life, even a prayer for the earth, while concurrently being terrified
by the portents of its destruction. Here, the experience of being an
attentive participant emerges as his core teaching. Over the decades he
developed a practice of attention that was endlessly curious and
enthralled by the living world, what he calls its pattern or syntax.
Despite acclaim as a celebrated writer, throughout his career Lopez
humbly tasked himself with making a combination of wonder and horror
work together to effectively communicate a life journey of
contemplation, exploration, and discovery.
