Product Description

In the spring of 1983 Terry Tempest Williams learned that her mother was dying of cancer. That same season, The Great Salt Lake began to rise to record heights, threatening the herons, owls, and snowy egrets that Williams, a poet and naturalist, had come to gauge her life by. One event was nature at its most random, the other a by-product of rogue technology: Terry's mother, and Terry herself, had been exposed to the fallout of atomic bomb tests in the 1950s. As it interweaves these narratives of dying and accommodation, Refuge transforms tragedy into a document of renewal and spiritual grace, resulting in a work that has become a classic.

Product Details

• Amazon Sales Rank: #30132 in Books
• Published on: 1992-09-01
• Released on: 1992-09-01
• Number of items: 1
• Binding: Paperback
• 336 pages

Amazon.com
The only constants in nature are change and death. Terry Tempest Williams, a naturalist and writer from northern Utah, has seen her share of both. The pages of Refuge resound with the deaths of her mother and grandmother and other women from cancer, the result of the American government's ongoing nuclear-weapons tests in the nearby Nevada desert. You won't find the episode in the standard history textbooks; the Feds wouldn't admit to conducting the tests until women and men in Utah, Nevada, and northwestern Arizona took the matter to court in the mid-1980s, and by then thousands of Americans had fallen victim to official technology. Parallel to her account of this devastation, Williams describes changes in bird life at the sanctuaries dotting the shores of the Great Salt Lake as water levels rose during the unusually wet early 1980s and threatened the nesting grounds of dozens of species. In this world of shattered eggs and drowned shorebirds, Williams reckons with the meaning of life, alternating despair and joy.

From Publishers Weekly
Utah naturalist Williams ponders the loss of her mother to cancer and the disastrous flooding of a bird refuge in a moving account of the interrelations between personal tragedy and natural history. Author tour.
Copyright 1992 Reed Business Information, Inc.

From Library Journal
Williams, a naturalist at the Utah Museum of Natural History in Salt Lake City, uses the rise and fall of Great Salt Lake and the fluctuations in wild bird populations that inhabit or migrate through the ecosystem as a personal metaphor. Her diary-like personal reflections cover such issues as helping family members through the traumatic process of living and dying with cancer. She also reflects upon women's place within the Mormon Church and touches on citizens' conflicting civic responsibilities as stewards and exploiters of the earth. Finally, she ponders federal responsibility for irradiating Utah land and people during 11 years of above-ground atomic testing. Williams's book is difficult to pigeonhole because she wrestles with a wide range of ethical questions in her struggle to find understanding. Her book may be of particular interest to public libraries in Southwestern states.--Laurie Tynan, Montgomery Cty.
Norristown P.L., Pa.
Copyright 1991 Reed Business Information, Inc.

Customer Reviews

Ed Abbey called her "Tempest"
A rare combination of personal journal and field notes, this story compasses the death of a marsh and the death of a mother, the tenacity of struggling species and the re-birth of a daughter. It moved me to tears -- a decidedly rare experience for me with non-fiction -- and surprised me with those tears at odd times: the beauty of a bird and a place and a moment, or the stoic wisdom of the women who battle with and lose to cancer. In addition to possessing a questioning spirit, and a lover's eye for birds in the wild places she roams, Williams is a downwinder. She and her family are among the officially "inconsequential" population who were conveniently ignored during America's atmospheric nuclear testing in the 50s. The several women (and a few men) in her family who have died from cancers probably linked to those tests have moved her from interest to activism. This book is a record of her baptism in nuclear fire as well as her search for wings. REFUGE is among the armful of books I would grab if my house were on fire. I own two copies so I can lend one without fear. It is absolutely first rate.

Nothing Unnatural About It; It's Sacred
The first time I went to Utah, I read Edward Abbey's "Desert Solitaire" and loved it. This time, at a bookstore in Moab, I picked up Williams' "Red" for a contemporary view of the ecological issues around this gorgeous desert landscape, which is unlike any place I have been. Although I liked "Red," people told me "Refuge" was even better.

This is a very special book. I'm no birdwatcher, but it made me want to be. I'm no scientist, but I wished I were. I'm no Mormon, but it gave me respect for a religion I have never been able to fathom. Terry Tempest Williams has profound insights into the natural world. Her observations of the Great Salt Lake and the many migratory birds that visit it are as moving as her account of the death by cancer of her mother and grandmothers. Not surprisingly, they taught Williams awe of birds and sunsets and their own bodies. All of them are brave and spiritual women, and we would be wise to learn from them.

I think what I most admire about Williams as a writer is her emotional courage. Time and time again, she strikes out where more conventional writers would hesitate. She finds redeeming passages from the Book of Mormon. She follows her mother through her long and circuitous spiritual journey with cancer. She follows her grandmother as she moves into Eastern thought and modern physics. She dips respectfully into ancient Indian and Mexican culture. She walks in the desert at some peril to her well-being. She speaks of the intimacy of her marriage and about her decision not to bear children.

Yet his is not a book "about" the desert or cancer or birds or Mormonism, but about life and how it can be richly observed, experienced. shared and redeemed. It's one brave woman's answer to "Desert Solitaire."

This verse unlocks the heart.
Terry Tempest Williams is a national treasure. Her unvarnished verse carries one deep into the mystery of the Earth and sends us helplessly into the depths of our own hearts. The landscape of wildness breaths a spectacular wisdom under the watchful eyes of this keen observer of wind, rock, desert, sky, sage, along with the birds who soar and dance and play in a benediction to non-sentient life.

When I need to recapture my own mortality along with my own humility, I always return to the verse of this elder of silence and truth. Williams stands alone in the power to convey both outer and inner wildness. Her verse is poetic and healing. One does not read these words but are instead initiated into the heart beat of wild nature. Savor its beauty as you might a calming sunset or a wind swept sea shore calling you ever deeper into your own soul.

Read everything she writes and find peace deep within.