Gary Snyder, The Beats And Robin Mathews: Danger On Peaks And Think Freedom

Death of a Salesman ((1949), by Arthur Miller, was an important play in American cultural life. In this insightful drama, Willy Loman is told “you had the wrong dream”. It was many of the Beats that saw quite clearly, in the 1950s, that American imperialism, the Cold War, the frantic and frenetic Protestant work ethic and the American way of life was shot through with thinness and much ado about nothing. In short, the American dream was the wrong dream. Many was the victim of such a dream turned nightmare. The Beats saw through the illusion and mirage of such a wrong dream, and they turned to the peaks to get another perspective on things. It was this turning to the peaks that began a contemplative countercultural No to the wrong dream of life in the American valley. The contemplative dream of the Beats offered an antidote to the toxins and wasteland of Loman’s bad dream. Such a contemplative vision pointed the way to greater inner depths and a more responsible political vision. When Kerouac descended from Desolation Peak, On the Road (a sacred text for the 1960s) left the press, and a few years later, The Dharma Bums (1958) became the literary talk of the town. Gary Snyder is the lead actor in this novel (known as Japhy Ryder), and Hozomeen and the North Cascades form an important backdrop to the novel. The most recent Penguin publication of The Dharma Bums has plenty of pictures of the North Cascades, Kerouac’s lookout cabin on Desolation Peak and the many white-crowned and glacier-thick peaks on the back and front covers. Gary Snyder is no foreigner to the Northwest and Canada. In fact, Snyder did his graduating thesis for his BA at Reed College, Oregon in 1951 on the Haida people of the Northwest Pacific Coast of British Columbia. The thesis, which anticipated much of Snyder’s later thought, was published as He Who Hunted Birds in His Father’s Village: The Dimensions Of A Haida Myth (1979). Snyder has published many books of prose and poetry since his thesis on the Haida people and his years as a lookout ranger in the North Cascades. He is the last living of the Beats of the North Cascades (Kerouac died in 1969 and Whalen in 2002), and few are the Beats of the San Francisco Renaissance group of the 1950s that are still with us. Allan Ginsberg and Kenneth Rexroth are no more in our midst. I have had, for many a decade, quite an interest in the life and writings of Gary Snyder, so it was with some delight, joy and anticipation that I went with Trevor Carolan and Arnold Shives to hear Snyder read from his new book, danger on peaks in Bellingham (just across the border) in the last fleeting day of November in 2004. I knew Synder was a myth and legend in the Northwest, but I was most surprised when more than 800 people packed into Bellingham High School to hear him read from danger on peaks. Snyder has not published an original book of poetry for more than 20 years, so most of us were keen to hear him read from his book danger on peaks and purchase a copy of it for a deeper and more meditative read. danger on peaks is divided into six sections: I) Mount St. Helens, II) Yet Older Matters, III) Daily Life, IV) Steady, They Say, V) Dust in the Wind, and VI) After Bamiyan. danger on peaks is framed within both a destructive event and a way to read and interpret such an event. Gary Snyder had hiked up Mt. St. Helens in early August 1945 (he was 15 at the time). He was on the mountain when the Americans bombed both Hiroshima and Nagasaki. When he descended from the ascent, he heard about the tragic event. He made a vow at the time: “By the purity and beauty and permanence of Mt. St. Helens, I will fight against this cruel destructive power and those who would seek to use it for all my life”. Section I, Mt. St. Helens, has a variety of poems, but each and all, in their varied way, touch on the beauty and allure of nature, the challenge of the climb, the destructive nature of both humans and nature, and the ability to rebuild and recover after such hardships. Japan was devastated by Hiroshima and Nagasaki, but the country found its footing and rebuilt again. Mt. St. Helens exploded in 1980, wreaking havoc and killing many, but time and Nature have, in their slow yet predictable way, brought life back to the place. The poems in Section I are written in Snyder’s story-telling way. The images drawn from Nature, and the many trails hiked with friends, reveal deeper meanings with fuller messages. Destruction and tragedy are not the final word. There can always be recovery from loss and tragedy if we but wait and see, reclaim and rebuild. Section II, Yet Older Matters, walks the reader into both the older messages of time and the way Nature can tell them. Many of these poems are short and crisp, but to the point. The longer narrative prose poems of Section I give way to the multiple tales Nature has to tell for those who have eyes to see and ears to hear. The poems are almost Koan-like, and Snyder works them well. Nature is very much in the ascendant in Section II, and most of the poems need to be read slowly and in a meditative way and manner. The traditional Japanese Haiku poem is mixed and blended with the haibun form. Observation and explanation join affectionate and informative hands when haiku and haibun meet. Section III moves from the realm of Nature to day to day life in the world. Daily Life consists of doing the many tasks set before the poet such as driving up and down the interstate for a variety of reasons, pondering manuscripts, setting up meetings, connecting with many people, pondering the past and present as one, building hearth and home with friends, laughing, loving and living. These poems are more in a narrative style yet again. Yes, there are the Hiroshimas, Nagasakis and Mt. St. Helens, but there is also the steady and sure footpaths of both Nature and human living. Meaning in daily life can and should also be seen for all its life-giving possibilities. Those who only linger on the peaks may be in grave danger, and these peaks can be religious, intellectual or literal. An attentive life lived in the mundane world has much to teach for those who have eyes to see. Section IV, Steady, They Say raises the question about being faithful to the important things in both daily life and the larger events in the world. There is always the temptation, in the midst of such sadness and suffering, in the midst of the daily grind, to become cynical and to be tempted to quit the fray, or to long for something more intense. But there is danger in turning to such peaks. It is in the steady plodding that the mountain is climbed. “The Climb”, a poem in Section I, says it all. Inch by inch little snail creep up Mt. Fuji Steady, They Say is a fit and telling companion piece to Daily Life. There is a touching poem in this section to Philip Zenshin Whalen who died June 26, 2002. He was a poet of the peak. There is another poem “for Carole” that ends with danger on peaks. Snyder, through this new collection of poems, as a longtime Buddhist, is making it quite clear that the genuine Buddha life must be lived in the daily life. There is danger on the peaks, and this must be understood in both a literal and literary sense. A life that is not steady and attentive in the small things is an inattentive life. Those who only crave peak experiences miss the meaning of real insight and enlightenment. Section V, Dust in the Wind, begins the process of bringing danger on peaks to an end. All will be returned to dust. All is impermanent and fleeting. Nothing will last in time. There is a touching poem on the tragic death of Snyder’s sister (1932-2002), and many an informed observation about the transience, fragility and impermanence of all things. Desires rise and fall, suffering will emerge from misguided longings, but even the noblest and best of lives, cultural artifacts, and works of art will be reduced to dust. “The Great Bell of the Gion” tells it all. The courageous and aggressive person will vanish like a swirl of dust in the wind. This is a Buddhist truth, and such a truth should not be forgotten. All our longings and strivings are, in time, fated and doomed to be but dust in the wind. Just as the bell of a monastery gongs and is gone, so life has its momentary music and song to make, then all returns to silence. This does not mean, though, nothing should be done. All is impermanent, yet the impermanent is important. Section VI, After Bamiyan, is a series of poems on the destruction of the large and ancient Buddhist statues, by the Taliban, in Afghanistan. Again the theme of destruction is most evident. Snyder, in these poems, contrasts the havoc wreaked in Bamiyan in March 2001 with 9/11. This is the shortest section, and it is the most Buddhist. Snyder attempts to unpack the Buddhist dilemma for one and all. If all is transient and fleeting, why bother caring for anything, if whatever we do is fleeting? The dilemma is summed up in this way: This dewdrop world is but a dewdrop world and yet— Snyder then says "That ‘and yet’ is our perennial practice. And maybe the root of the dharma”. The language of dharma and the great wisdom is used to reveal how to take the finite and fleeting with some seriousness but not with too much seriousness. It is in the living of this perennial tension that the deeper meaning of dharma might be revealed. danger on peaks has much insight and wisdom in it. The book ponders how it is possible to live both in the large and small events of life while being attentive and alert. Snyder’s commitment to the Buddhist Tradition runs like a golden thread throughout the book. The final poem, “Envoy”, is laced thick with the Buddhist way and celebrates the greater wisdom (mahaprajnaparamita). Both wisdom and compassion must, in this ancient way, dwell together, and yet how they are to dwell together in this dewdrop world is the larger question. It is interesting that Japan was the place that the Americans bombed in WWII, yet it was from Japan that many Americans went to learn Zen Buddhism. Gary Snyder, like Robert Aitken, is part of the WWII generation of Americans who turned to the East to find a deeper spirituality. danger on peaks reflects and embodies how Gary Snyder was true to his vow on Mt. St. Helens in August 1945, and how Japan has come to teach the USA about the deeper meaning of life. Who then, in the deeper sense, won WWII? The 1960s in the USA and Canada signaled a turn by the literary guild. A new way of doing poetry was being discussed. The Black Mountain and the Beat poets (of whom Snyder was and is, probably, one of the more mature and dominant elders) in the USA rode the crest and cusp of an avant-garde wave. This wave rose and gathered much momentum. The sheer force of the water crossed the border and spread into Canada. There had been, on the Canadian west coast, an indigenous literary revival in the 1950s, and this unique Canadian way was buried by the tidal wave of the Black Mountain and American Beat poetry of the 1960s as it crashed on the shore of the Canadian west coast. Many Canadian poets felt like they were living in an American colony. Warren Tallman (an American) taught at UBC in the 1950s, and by the late 1950s and early 1960s, he was bringing all sorts of Beat and Black Mountain poets to the west coast. He tells this tale well in In the Midst (1992). Canadian poets such as Earle Birney, Marya Fiamengo, Robin Mathews, Dorothy Livesay, Seymour Mayne, Pat Lane and Milton Acorn were overwhelmed by the American literary models, and many an aspiring Canadian poet turned to the Beats and the Black Mountain tradition as their gurus, leads, and north star. The last forty years on the west coast has been dominated by many Canadian poets who are the aging children of the Black Mountain and Beat traditions. This is why, for example, Gary Snyder is seen as so important. He stands, in a sensitive, compassionate and poetic tradition, for the best of the Beat way. He has weathered many a storm that has taken close and dear friends and comrades on the journey. But what has happened to the voice of Canadians who dared to differ with both the Beat and Black Mountain traditions? Robin Mathews reminds Canadians that there are other ways of being poetic. Snyder knows little of the Canadian way, and Mathews has given his life to challenging both the obvious and more subtle ways that Canadians can be colonized by the empire. If Snyder were to read his poetry on the Canadian west coast, there would be a good turnout. If Mathews were to do a public reading, the numbers would be much fewer. Why is this the case? Most of Snyder’s books, like Noam Chomsky’s, can be found in Canadian bookstores. It is virtually impossible to find a book by Robin Mathews. When Canadians turn to Snyder as their map and true guide, and ignore Mathews, they speak much about a way of being colonized. Gary Snyder and Robin Mathews are both inching towards their mid-70s. Snyder is 74, and Mathews is 73. Both men have seen much, been committed to a vision, and written about what they have seen and tried to achieve. Many see Snyder as the elder statesman of American Buddhism, ecology, protest politics and Beat poetry. danger on peaks was published in 2004; so was Mathews’ Think Freedom. How is Think Freedom different from danger on peaks? It is in the asking and answering of this question that we, as Canadians, might have a sense of how two important national poets see their calling in different ways. Think Freedom is divided into four sections: I) In A Glass, Darkly, II) Seeing and Being, III) Blind Faith, The New World Order, and IV) Think Freedom. Both Mathews and Snyder share the same distrust and opposition to the American empire and American imperialism; there can be no doubt about this. Both men have, throughout most of their lives, spoken cleanly and clearly about the rapacious and destructive nature of the USA. Mathews and Snyder, therefore, share this common perception, and such a way of thinking runs like a golden thread through all of their writings. However, it is one thing to agree on this; it is quite another to sort out how they go in different directions after such a similar beginning. In short, both men agree about what they dislike and distrust on some of the big issues. But they do not always agree on the what they do want and how to achieve such a goal. Section I, In a Glass, Darkly, takes the time to look straight into both the unjust ways of the USA and Canada. There is seeing, but it is through a "glass, darkly". The media, the military and politicians are stared down. This is vintage Mathews. It is political poetry at its social realist best. There is no flinching nor weakening of social comment or insight. Mathews makes it clear in these poems how Canadians can be colonized and the consequences of being colonized for souls, life and limbs. Snyder’s poetry is political, but Mathews' is much more so. Poems on Che Guevera (“The Fig Tree: Bolivia”), and Norman Bethune, (“NB”), highlight how and why most who oppose the USA will face fearsome opponents, and “These Boys" makes it quite clear why nationalists who question the USA will be branded as terrorists. A former prime minister is given his critical due in “The Little Thug From Shawinigan: a ballade”. Section II, Seeing and Being, moves from the explicitly political to more tender love and relational poems. The intensity of the political poems are softened, and memories of the past return to speak to the poet. Much is pondered in the heeding and hearing of old memories (and the emotions and images that such memories evoke). Seeing and Being takes the reader to a deeper level of seeing much more into life. The more we see, the more the question of living and being is brought before us. The first few poems in this section are set within the autumn season, and the way autumn can conjure up vivid and intense memories of an earlier time: “the terrace (1&2)”, “yesterday”, “September”, “Café Allegro”, “October” and “In October” tell haunting tales. Poems dedicated to Stephen Spender (“Prelude”), and others that poignantly walk us into the lives of Marya Fiamengo (“A Letter from Winter Cove: 2002”) and Dorothy Livesay (“Cold War, Old War”) bring the personal and the political together again. Our being (and what we become) tends to take different paths based on what we see, and Mathews probes this tension in a delicate and judicious way and manner. Mathews makes it clear in this section that how we see and where we see will determine what we see. It is in the linking of the political and the personal that our being learns winter wisdom. Mathews is very much a poet of the people and of the streets, of the city and of those who have suffered in such places. Snyder is much more a poet of the land, peaks and mountain air. Mathews longs to bring such justice to those who are trapped in poverty and hard places where asphalt is thick and the wealthy crush the poor and needy. Section III, Blind Faith, The New World Order, turns again to the political and larger international events. The sensitive personal and interpersonal probes bend to the larger questions of American imperialism, Canadian compradorism, and resistance to both yet again. Section III is set in the autumn season, like Section II, but the autumn is that of 2001. Most poets and writers in our 9/11 world cannot help but ponder and reflect on the meaning of the event. Mathews is no different. The poems are longer in this section, but each and all view 9/11 from a variety of angles: a restaurant owner in Victoria, BC; students in need of counselling at Vancouver Technical College; those called terrorists, wherever they might be; CIA agents and the American-led war against Islam. More is seen and spoken, and, in the process, the being of poet and reader are altered. It is this new world order, and those who have blind faith in it, that Mathews turns on in this poetic missive. He is nudging the reader to see and think in an ever more critical and demanding way. Mathews, like Snyder, writes in a clear, limpid and accessible manner, but Mathews’ incisive poetic realism is much more political than Snyder’s. The double use of the autumn signals and says much. Summer is past, winter is near. How are we to live in such a season of life? Section IV, Think Freedom, weaves together the best of the political and the personal, and, just as in Section VI in danger on peaks where Snyder becomes most clear about his Buddhism, Mathews, in Section IV, touches on more religious themes. Poems such as “Ibn Khaldun (1336-1406)”, “The Seventh Day”, “The Seconds of Eternity” and “Love Thine Enemy” take us into some important aspects of the Christian and Islamic world. If what we see alters who we become, and the two eyes of seeing are the personal and political, then to be truly free we must be both political and personal beings. But we also need to heed and hear what might come our way from a deeper and older religious vision. The many poems in Think Freedom speak and say as much. The personal, political and the religious form an important trinity in this concluding section. The political poems do not quit: “Toussaint L’Ouverture”, “West Vancouver, August 2002”, “at the Café Lenin”, “Think Freedom” and “Thoughts on the Vietnam War” hold the reader close and tight. Mathews will not allow the reader to flee from the hard political questions or from the circles of responsibility. The final poem, “On the absence of whales” unwinds and unravels many an insight. First we killed God, then Wonder, then our place with other creatures on the globe. And now-the last-we kill all semblance of humility. ‘Pride goeth before a fall’, they say; and they also say, ‘When the whales go, all else will follow’. The circle comes full circle in Think Freedom. The political leads to the personal, and the personal and the political call forth the religious. The binding of all three bring this collection of poems to a fit and apt conclusion. Mathews has dipped his bucket deep in the Western Tradition for many of his themes and major motifs. He seems to have little interest, like Snyder, in Buddhism (and, more importantly, its notion of the flux and impermanence of all things). The Western Tradition, unlike aspects of the East, does affirm permanence and substance in the soul, society, nature and history, and hence there is a consistency in fighting and struggling for the very things that embody and reflect the deeper structure and essence of things at the heart and core of existence. Think Freedom is a shorter book of poetry than danger on peaks, but both books share many common concerns. Both are incisive and surgical in their analysis of the USA. Both books express a concern for the environment and the importance of relationships. Snyder tends to spend much more time on place, kith and kin than Mathews, although this is not absent in Think Freedom. There is a difference in tone, mood and texture when both poets think about seeing and being. Snyder does mention much more of the natural area where he lives, how his being unfolds in such a place, and the people he has seen and hiked to peaks with. There is no doubt his bio-regional commitments emerge clean and clear in danger on peaks, and his Buddhism is there for one and all to see. Mathews is much more concerned with national and international political questions in his poetry than Snyder. He spends much less time on the local area where he lives in the commercial area of Vancouver. It is this emphasis that does speak something about how both men see and how their being makes sense of what they see. It is also obvious that Snyder is Buddhist, and he has little interest in Christianity or in Islam. Mathews, on the other hand, often refers to Christian ideas, images and people, and he even tries to enter the soul of the Muslim world at times. In fact, the third-last line in the final poem is taken from Proverbs in the Bible: “Pride goes before a fall”. An earlier book of poetry by Mathews, The Beginning of Wisdom (1978), draws its title from Proverbs yet again: “The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom”. It is interesting to note that Snyder often draws from wisdom sayings in the Buddhist tradition, but he ignores the wisdom sayings in the Christian tradition. Mathews often draws from pithy and insightful wisdom sayings in the Jewish and Christian traditions, but he tends to ignore the Buddhist tradition. Both men recognize that there is much wisdom and insight in the past, and we ignore the old ways to our hurt and harm. It is in the wisdom of the ancient religions that much of this gold can be mined. The strength of Snyder is in the way he has dipped his bucket deeply in the best of the Oriental (Chinese and Japanese) and First Nations traditions. The weakness of Snyder is the way he has ignored the wisdom and contemplative and meditative traditions of the West. He seems to have little or no understanding of it. Needless to say, it is quite possible to be concerned about the environment, peacemaking, justice, spirituality, First Nations, and a mythic and symbolic way of knowing from within the Jewish and Christian perspective. The Jewish and Christian traditions, though, do not see all as returning to dust and ashes, and time as merely the playground of the fleeting and impermanent. In short, the Jewish and Christian traditions do come and ask some probing questions about the validity and limitations of Snyder’s notion of dharma, the greater wisdom of the Buddhist way and their notions of ego, self and not-self that underwrite such a worldview. Samsara, sunyata, anatman, the void and the emptiness of all things can be questioned without abandoning the broader social and political vision that Snyder holds near and dear and has lived with much authenticity and integrity. It is quite possible to doubt the religious roots and grounding of Snyder’s position while standing side by side with him on many of his social, economic, ecological and political concerns. Mathews can come as a needful and necessary corrective to Snyder’s contemplative Buddhist stance. The position Snyder takes is quite trendy for many thoughtful yet disenfranchised North Americans who are on a conscious spiritual quest. Buddhism in the last few decades has become the spiritual mecca for many in the West who have turned against the Western ethos. The Dalai Lama and Thich Nhat Hanh are but two Buddhists who many Westerners turn to for greater depth than they see in the West. Snyder’s inability to think deeply and thoroughly about the thicker and firmer roots in the Western mystical way does limit his appeal, though. When he does turn to ancient Greece (following the lead of a favourite poet of his, Robinson Jeffers), in a poem like “The Acropolis Back When”, it is a time of Athens before the glory days of Plato and Aristotle. Mathews is not so reactionary, and this is his appeal. We, in Canada, do not need to follow, yet again, the American lead in our spirituality. The Oriental spirituality and anarchist politics of Whitman, Emerson and Thoreau are strong in those like Snyder, Ginsberg and Whalen. The Beat turn to Buddhism in the 1950s-1960s has done much to prepare the West for those like the Dalai Lama, Thich Nhat Hanh and many others. Is there another way of being interested in spirituality and doing politics than that of those who stand within the line and lineage of the American Transcendentalists and American Beats? I think there is, and those in Canada like Milton Acorn, Marya Fiamengo, Robin Mathews and Doug Beardsley could point us the way if we have ears that can hear and eyes that see a different path and way. The Eastern and Western contemplative traditions do need to be brought closer than either Snyder or Mathews have brought them. This does not mean such traditions will agree on the deeper core and centre of things, but it does little good for traditions to dwell in separate solitudes. The mystics, masters, prophets and contemplatives of each tradition do need to meet and greet, and this is the challenge of those who stand on the far side of Snyder and Mathews. There are those in the Western contemplative tradition such as Thomas Merton, Kenneth Rexroth, William Everson and David Steindl-Rast who can open the contemplative dialogue to greater depths than Snyder and Mathews have gone thus far. There is also another line of questioning we need to follow. Gary Snyder is very much the Noam Chomsky of American poetry. This means, therefore, it is hard to imagine Gary Snyder becoming too involved with the national politics of the USA. He thinks globally and nationally, but acts locally. He is committed to the local issues where he lives, moves and has his being, the Sierra Nevada area. When he does politics, it is usually local, or some form of protest or advocacy politics. It is anarchism in its most charming, communal and compassionate way. It is a way of seeing and being that is cynical of large formal political parties. This is not the way of Mathews. Mathews, like Snyder, asks all the hard political questions in his poetry and prose, but he stays with the larger Canadian national issues in a firmer and more obstinate way. I have four books before me as I type this paper. Two of these books reflect the republican and libertarian right. The Rise of The Tyrant: Controlled Economy vs. Private Enterprise (1945), by Carl McIntire, tells its own graphic and compelling tale. The state is the tyrant, and a controlled economy feeds such a tyrant. We need the freedom of private enterprise to free us from such a leviathan and tyrant. Political Realignment: A Challenge to Thoughtful Canadians (1967), by Ernest Manning, tells the same tale. There is communism-socialism, and there is capitalism. Thoughtful Canadians must join the capitalist parade against the controlled economy of the state. There is little doubt that Snyder or Mathews would have much in common with the thinking of McIntire and Manning on one level. But Snyder does share some of their affinities with the local, regional and grassroots-level approach to politics. And, Snyder, McIntire and Manning tend to be cynical of the state. Society and the state are often set against one another. The state is demonized and society is idealized. The other two books I have before me very much represent the anarchist left. Witness Against the Beast: William Blake and the Moral Law (1993), by the well-known English anarchist E.P. Thompson, tells it all. Blake has been a great guide to the Beats, and Blake’s distrust of both the moral law and the state is well known. It is such a beast (and all its authoritarian tendencies) that the thoughtful must oppose and protest against. Blake provides a way to do this. The other book that speaks the same anarchist message is Anarcho-Modernism: Toward New Critical Theory (2001). The front cover says it all. There is a picture of Lenin (representing the horrors of the Soviet state) and a stealth bomber (representing the bully-like nature of the American state). The anarchist and protest left, rightly so, says a firm and defiant No to such a controlled and militaristic way of being. I suspect Snyder would have much in common with the many insights and concerns of Witness Against the Beast and Anarcho-Modernism. But would Mathews? Mathews moves in different directions on the state-society question than Snyder, and this is where, as Canadians, we do need to hear more from Mathews. Let me conclude this essay with two stories that bring this tale back to where it began. First, when I look down the Fraser Valley in an eastward direction, from our home on the ridge of Sumas Mountain, my eyes follow a ledge of mountains as they edge their way to the small town of Hope. The Skagit Valley cuts south, from Hope, through the mountains into the USA. The Skagit Valley is on both the American and Canadian side. The Skagit Valley is an important valley in the North Cascade mountain range where Kerouac, Snyder and Whalen began their journeys many a decade ago. An environmental battle was fought in the 1960s to preserve the Canadian Skagit Valley from flooding. The Americans flooded the Skagit Valley in the USA, and built three large dams that provide immense and continual power to Seattle. Seattle City Lights runs the operation. It was from Ross Lake in the Skagit Valley that the poets of the peaks pondered much, but the Skagit Valley on the American side had been flooded by the 1950s when the Beats were there. The Americans, in the 1960s, decided they wanted to extend Ross Lake up to Hope, and use Canadian land for power in Seattle. A large battle was fought by activists and the BC provincial government to keep the rich, tall and dense forests of the Canadian Skagit Valley free from flooding. The point to note here is this: activists and the provincial government worked together to preserve the land, forest, streams, wildlife, rivers, paths and mountain trails. Both the state and citizens within society worked together to bring about this common ecological good. Some who fought to protect the Canadian Skagit Valley were active in forming Greenpeace. Second, when I look directly across the Fraser Valley, glacier-white Mount Baker (12,000 ft.) looks back at me. Lesser mountains stand just beneath stately Baker. A few years ago (just across the border), a large American corporation made it clear that they were going to build a large power plant. The energy from the power plant (Sumas Energy 2) would go south to California, and the Fraser Valley would get all the pollution. The tradeoff seemed rather good for the Americans. Canadians were not so impressed. Another battle was in the offing, and it still is. Those who support SE2 had plenty of corporate gold. Activists and politicians from the municipal, provincial and federal levels of government, in Canada, have been active in opposing SE2. At the present, the federal government is standing firm, but the SE2 advocates are pushing to get power lines in Abbotsford. The point to note is this: activists from the anarchist left, the republican right, and all three levels of government have worked together to oppose SE2. It is not a state versus society issue. What does this have to do with Snyder, Mathews, danger on peaks and Think Freedom? Snyder has spent a great deal of his life dealing with local and regional questions. The issues of bioregionalism and peoples' rights within such regions are important to him. danger on peaks very much embodies and reflects the important role of those who live integrated lives within an ecological area and region. The larger national questions of the USA, and working with political parties, are not as much a central concern for Snyder. The local holds him much more. Mathews, on the other hand, is most concerned about national and nationalist issues in Canada. He founded the Nationalist Party in Canada many a decade ago, and the nationalist vision very much holds him. Snyder tends to elevate society and the local while downplaying the national vision of the USA (and the political parties that further such a vision). Mathews holds much higher the national vision for Canada while recognizing the important role of the local, regional and society. Snyder is very much, like Noam Chomsky, a fan of the anarchist left, whereas Mathews stands for the nationalist left. When Canadians turn to Snyder and ignore Mathews, they speak much about being colonized. When they turn to Mathews, the dawn of a new vision and the faint light of a new day is on the horizon. ---- Ron Dart's latest book is The Canadian High Tory Tradition: Raids on the Unspeakable.