Emerson decribed the hunter as "commanded in nature by the living power which he feels to be there present." The autobiographical essays in this elegiac collection convey that same sense of living power, for Sydney Lea goes far beyond colorful accounts of tramping through Vermont woods following a gundog's bell or a buck's trail. Hunting the Whole Way Home is a search for a personal philosophy or, as Robert Frost put it, a union of avocation and vocation. Lea explores the connections between his love for nature and his passion for writing.As Lea describes a world of grouse and Canada geese and trout and deer, he defends the hunt as primal and rejuvenative. He decries equally animal rights sentimentalists, the cruelties of slob hunters, and the "morally idiotic yap" of the NRA. His rationale for hunting is simple: "When I say I love the wild animals in a given ecosystem, I begin by acknowledging the plain fact that each must stand in relation to the others as predator or prey." That understanding, Lea says, emphasizes the otherness of wild animals and inspires true respect.Lea perceives a bond with those who share that respect: the generations of people who have hunted and loved nature as he does. The natural world gives him a clear view of the relation of child to parent and parent to child, of past to present, and the fragility of life. Painful awareness of that fragility colors Hunting the Whole Way Home, and guides his ongoing struggle to make sense of a life for himself, and, perhaps, for others. (6 x 9, 224 pages)Sydney Lea is the author of ten other books, including Pursuit of a Wound, a finalist for the Pulitzer Prize for poetry in 2000, and the novel A Place in Mind. A recipient of awards from the Guggenheim, Rockefeller, and Fulbright foundations. Lea was founder and editor of New England Review.

A thoughtful meditation on the central paradox of 20th-century hunting: stalking and killing wild animals can bring one closer to a mostly forgotten elemental earth.