community are fully confronted and recognized.rnThe community is happy inrnthat it has survived its rememberedrntragedies, reshaped itself coherentlyrnaround its known losses, and embracedrnits eccentrics, invalids, sinners, and fools.rnSabbaths, 1987-1990 continues a patternrnof poetry begun in an earlier volumerntitled Sabbaths that included poemsrnfrom 1979 to 1986. It is nature poetry ofrnthe kind Berry himself describes in his essayrn”A Secular Pilgrimage.” Such poetryrnis secular in its detachment from institutionalizedrnreligion but a pilgrimagernin its worshipful valuing of what is notrnentirely understood and in its religiousrnaspiring beyond what is known. It is intenselyrnresponsive to the physical presencernof the natural world and at thernsame time stimulated by the immanencernof mystery or divinity in that physicalrnpresence. Berry suggests two importantrngenerative influences for such poetry.rnOne is Oriental poetry, with “its directnessrnand brevitv, its involvement withrnthe life of things, its sense that the poemrndoes not create the poetry but is the revelationrnof a poetry that is in the world.”rnThe other is the prose writings of Thoreau,rncharacterized by “a painstaking accuracyrnof observation, a most unsolemnrnand refreshing reverence, a sense of beingrninvolved in nature, and a rare exuberancernand wit.”rnThese influences are clearly discerniblernin Berry’s own poetry. FollowingrnThoreau, who said “the true harvestrnof my daily life is somewhat as intangiblernLIBERAL ARTSrnPOLITICAL ORATORY, 1993rn”This is a little tiny chunk of arnhuge plateful of stuff we’ll have torndeal with,”rn—Senator Alan K. Simpson,rnRepublican from Wyoming, on therndefeat of President Clinton’srneconomic stimulus bill.rnand indescribable as the tints of morningrnand evening,” Berry writes, “I keep an inventoryrn/ Of wonders and of uncommercialrngoods.” This inventory is kept primarilyrnon Sabbath walks in nature, andrnhe imbues “Sabbath” with rich metaphoricalrnsignificance. He alludes to thernfirst Sabbath, in which God rested whilernthe Creation sang a hymn. It is echoes ofrnthat hymn that he seeks in his Sundayrnramblings. The poems imply that whenrn”field and woods” (farm and wilderness,rncultivated and uncultivated land) are inrnharmony they awake reverberations ofrnthat first Sabbath anthem. And he mentionsrna final Sabbath with its song of therndeath of time and pain. These poemsrnare variations on the theme of Sabbathsrn—from first to last, from literal tornfigurative.rnThe principal thread of analogy is thatrnSabbath is to workday as the solace of naturernis to the sweat and labor of humanrnsociety. The poems hint at a possiblernharmony in which the two elementsrncomplement each other:rnThen workdayrnAnd Sabbath live together inrnone place.rnThough mortal, incomplete, thatrnharmonyrnIs our one possibility of peace.rnBerry, as a farmer-environmentalist, isrnconcerned with redeeming the land, beingrna partner with nature in healing therneffects of harmful practices. He usesrnthe notion of Sabbaths in these poems tornexpress a rhythm of work and rest that informsrnthe agrarian ideal.rnSome nature writing is little morernthan pandering to our modern alienationrnfrom the natural world, verbal naturernwalks to quiet the conscience of anrnindoor society implicated in environmentalrndepredation. Wendell Berry’srnengagement with the natural world transcendsrnmere description, or even thernkind of appreciation that finds pleasantrncorrespondences between nature and thernhuman mind or soul. His is a daily tactilerninvolvement that shapes his moral,rnaesthetic, and social values. The quietrngentleness and apparent simplicity of hisrnwriting is as hard won as his reclaimedrnland. He once alerted his readers to this:rnI amrna man crude as any,rngross of speech, intolerant,rnstubborn, angry, fullrnof fits and furies. That Irnmay have spoken wellrnat times, is not natural.rnA wonder is what it is.rnWe have more than enough displacedrnwriters providing us with fits and furies.rnWe can benefit from a placed writer likernBerry providing us with a practical voicernconcerning how to be responsibly atrnhome in our world.rnStephen L. Tanner is a professor ofrnEnglish at Brigham Young Universityrnin Provo, Utah.rnStraight Talkrnby David GordonrnPaved With Good Intentions: ThernFailure of Race Relations inrnContemporary Americarnby Jared TaylorrnNew York: Carroll & Graf;rn416 pp., $22.95rnAreviewer of Jared Taylor’s impressivernnew book faces a dilemma. Ifrna book’s principal thesis is valid, a criticrnmust of course say so. But a difficultyrnarises in the present instance. Accordingrnto Taylor, public orthodoxy inhibits discussionrnof race relations in our country.rnDissenters from this orthodoxy face retribution.rnWith remarkable courage,rnTaylor has defied the conventions whosernexistence he decries. It is exactly at thisrnpoint that the problem I have referred torntakes shape. The sanctions that Taylorrnhas risked threaten not just him, butrnthose who tender him their support. Reviewersrnwho praise him must, it seems,rnpartake of his temerity. Now the difficultyrnstrikes home, in a way I cannot ignore.rnI entirely lack Taylor’s boldness:rnwhat, then, am I to do? I can only hopernthat this review does not fall into thernwrong hands, since any honest readerrnmust recognize the genuine worth ofrnPaved With Good Intentions.rnTaylor identifies a fundamental errorrnat the heart of most discussions of Americanrnblacks and their difficulties: the assumptionrnthat “whites are responsiblernfor the problems blacks face.” Whitesrnbear this responsibility because thev en-rn36/CHRONICLESrnrnrn