OPINIONSrnA Letter From Earthrnby George Garrettrn”As fire is kindled by fire, so is a poet’s mind kindled by contact with a brother poet.”rn—John Keble, Lectures on Poetry, XVIrnJames Dickey: The World as a Liernby Henry HartrnNew York: Picador;rn8U pp., $35.00rnCrux: The Letters of James DickeyrnEdited by Matthew J. Bruccolirnand ]udith S. BaughmanrnNew York: Alfred A. Knopf;rn575 pp., $35.00rnThe James Dickey ReaderrnEdited by Henry HartrnNew York: Touchstone/rnSimon & Schuster;rn351pp.,$16.00rnDear Jimbo,rnI am sending this c/o the Dead PoetsrnSociety. I hope it reaches you all right.rnSure, it’s doubtful, I know. But, thenrnagain, why not? About the afterlife . . .rnwell, let’s not get into a big argumentrnabout all that. I remember we used to arguernsometimes about whether there wasrnanyone else, besides ourselves, out therernin the universe. You said we were allrnGeorge Garrett is the Henry HoynsrnProfessor ofEngUsh at the Universityrnof Virginia. His most recent book isrnBad Man Blues (Southern MethodistrnUniversity).rnalone here. I said that statistically therernwere probably hundreds of James Dickeysrnout there writing poems at any givenrnmoment. I was only kidding. I do, however,rnbelieve in the afterlife. Even if I didrnnot, I would strongly argue that all thatrnwealth of energy (and you had enormousrnenergy to waste and burn until your veryrnlast sad days!) can’t just disappear. Itrnseeks and probably finds a home place inrnthis lonesome universe. And, to usernsomewhat less cosmic terms, your poems,rnthe best of them and they are many,rnare still very much alive and, I venture,rnwill continue to be as long as our beleagueredrnlanguage lasts. Critics and reviewersrncan and do and will give you arnfull share of ups and downs. They canrnpraise you or blame you. But it is way beyondrntheir power and authority to strikernor destroy a word of your lifework.rnLord, it’s been years since I’ve been inrntouch with you. Ever since I bailed out ofrnthe University of South Carolina to gornand live in our house in Maine (and tornfinish up a book or two), we seldom, if ever,rnwrote and only called briefly and onrnbusiness. Met here and there a fewrntimes. I remember you introduced me —rnand a funny and generous introduction itrnwas—when I came back to South Carolinarnto give a reading for the ThomasrnCooper Society. We saluted each otherrnat one or two meetings of the Fellowshiprnof Southern Writers. And I had a chancernto chat with you briefly at the ScottrnFitzgerald Festival at USC in Septemberrn1996. You were pretty much confined torna wheelchair (a neat-looking blonde babernwas pushing you around, of course),rnsucking on an oxygen tank (it failed oncernduring lunch), and you looked frail andrnweary; but I honestiy did not guess howrnclose you were to dying. Sorry we didn’trnhave a chance to talk more and maybe tornswap a couple or three stories.rnThe purpose and occasion of this letterrnis to bring you up to date on a number ofrnthings. Mainly it is, or can be so called, arnreview of Henry Hart’s biography of you.rnBut there are other things, too, that deservernto be mentioned. Chris’s book (ThernSummer of Deliverance, by ChristopherrnDickey) came out in 1998, got a lot of attention,rnand made its mark. It seems tornhave shocked some people with its picturernof you in the years after Deliverancern24/CHRONICLESrnrnrn