Ehrlich's A Solace of Open Spaces

Ehrlich’s “The Solace of Open Spaces” has opened my eyes (and mind) to a western world. It is a world I want to visit, a landscape I want to walk. Most of all, as a writer, this book has shown me how to take a place and make it more powerful than imagined by connecting it to humankind.

The first essay “The Solace of Open Spaces,” which is also the title of the book, was one of my favorites. I think this is because it is full of material. Themes of space, solitude and longing are introduced, and reflect the book as a whole. For me, the first essay was representative of the entire book. It provided insight and reflection, as well as facts and beautiful language. Ehrlich is a lyric and poetic writer. Each essay focuses on a different aspect of her experience living in Wyoming, yet she always dig deeper for an internal experience. I admire her ability to connect the land with the people and culture. And even more so, I hope that one day I can reveal an internal and external landscape as well as she does.

After heading out to Wyoming to shoot a film on ranchers, Ehrlich ends up staying there for 17 years. Her connection with the land is strong. And even though she was not born there, it is as though the rivers and roads of this state run as deep as her own veins. In the essay “The Solace of Open Spaces” she connects the harsh, dry, open land with the pride of its inhabitants: “People here still feel pride because they live in such a harsh place, part of the glamorous cowboy past, and they are determined not to be the victims of a mining-dominated future(3).” I find it interesting that Ehrlich describes this link with the “cowboy,” the rugged western expansionist. It just proves that she observes the landscape and its dwellers very intently, enough to try and analyze their personalities.

I find Ehrlich is very deep in that way, even though she often uses simple language. The land becomes a place for her to start fresh after the death of a loved one: “…life on the sheep ranch woke me up…I threw away my clothes; I cut my hair. The arid country was a clean slate. Its absolute indifference steadied me (4).” She even draws connections between the land and the language. The solitary lifestyle of westerners induces a quietness in them. She believes they have their own language, “shortened to the skin and bones of a thought,” compressed and dry just like the land. She even compares the clayey soil of the land in Wyoming to the “fillers” of American life. Her comments on materialism are strengthened by her ability to evoke the land. She can talk about something tangible, something beautiful and find a way to relate it to the human condition.

One of my other favorite essays was “Other Lives.” For me, this was her meditation on death. This chapter is full of examples where she examines the idea of inner vs. outer nature. In describing the frost on the ground, iron ore, the Wyoming sky and animal carcasses, she reveals her pain. The grief she feels while losing a lover is woven into the landscape, rooted in the earth as though it was meant to be.

She is very successful at using characters to reveal the culture of Wyoming. In her essay “Obituary” Ehrlich introduces character after character that she meets along the way. Each one is a unique individual, always with something interesting to say. Her point about language is confirmed in this chapter: their short concise sentences reveal themselves as well as the land and culture. Cliff says “Gretel, when you’re looking at me you’re looking at country (20).” In most of her other essays, the landscapes becomes the characters, and the wind and weather its words.

Although I loved the entire book, and think it should be read by all nature writers (and writers in general), I am excited to focus on the first essay in class. This essay showcases all of Ehrlich’s talents and in a few short pages introduces its readers to an unknown world that somehow seems familiar. It is because she connects emotion, pain, longing, and love to a landscape. Emotions all humans feel, ones we can all understand. In turn she connects us to this place, this beautiful massive space she calls home.

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I have a hard time finding connections between the landscape of my hometown and its culture. I grew up in Carlisle, a small provincial town in central PA. Although surrounded by countryside and farmland, it is a quaint town that survives because of a liberal arts college and an Army War College, or military base. For me this town was a mixture of different people. There was the liberal academics that populated the college community, the conservative country dwellers that ran dairy farms and attended the annual car shows, and the temporary military families that came and went every year. As the daughter of a professor who worked at the college, the culture ingrained in me came from books and dinner discussions and travel. Most of my friends were born and raised Carlislians with parents who went to Carlisle High School. The town is enclosed by North and South Mountain, boundaries that mark this small historic place. As a child and teenager I spent my weekends hiking the woods of these mountains or staying out past curfew in parking lots of gas stations. I guess you could say as a result I sometimes feel torn, by the stimulation of city (or town) life and the serenity of mountains and countryside. North and South Mountain always made me feel stuck, like I could not get away from this town. Maybe that is why I traveled and lived overseas as I grew older, maybe that is why I live in a city now. But when I lay my head down at night, I find myself wanting to be back in those mountains of Carlisle, deep in its familiar woods.