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It's funny how misleading blurbs and forewords can be. I picked up The Living Mountain recently, a forgotten classic of nature writing by a Scotswoman, Nan Shephard, who spent decades wandering over the Cairngorm mountains. The foreword's by Robert MacFarlane, who I do like, but he has a nasty habit of meandering purple prose speckled with observations that look suspiciously like ice-cream koans.
You'd think, based on this foreword essay, that The Living Mountain would be a bit dippy, with some Scots flower-power crowding out the nature. Shephard could hardly be more different to MacFarlane - her writing is lucid, pin-sharp, patient and logical in the metaphors, with the naturalist's eye for detail
You'd think, based on this foreword essay, that The Living Mountain would be a bit dippy, with some Scots flower-power crowding out the nature. Shephard could hardly be more different to MacFarlane - her writing is lucid, pin-sharp, patient and logical in the metaphors, with the naturalist's eye for detail