Opinions of a Wolf

A memoir written throughout one man’s life looking back on his childhood in the Appalachian region of Pennsylvania and following his journey to becoming a Zen Buddhist minister in Massachusetts.

Summary:
Edgy, lyrical, and lovingly rendered, this book recounts how a kid from a Pennsylvania mill-town trailer park grew up—surrounded by backwoods farms and amid grief, violence, and passionate yearning—to become something a Buddhist minister teaching Zen. Throughout the book, Ruhl engages Buddhist themes of awakening and the death of the self by confronting the lives and deaths, including two by suicide, of his loved ones. This provocative memoir tells how it feels to practice Zen, and to move toward a life of hard-won forgiveness, healing, and freedom.

Review:
As a woman who grew up in the hills of Vermont, I’ve felt an affinity for other hill folk throughout my life, but especially ones who struggled with the local culture and left looking for something else. The title of this book drew me in instantly when I saw it on my library’s new book shelf, and I brought it home after quickly verifying it was, indeed, about both Appalachia and Zen Buddhism.

I’ve read a lot of memoirs and a lot of Buddhist books in my day. But I’ve never read a book that’s both. I’ve also never read a memoir that was written over decades. That’s something that fascinated me about this memoir – Ruhl actually wrote large section of it while he was living through those moments. Of course, some parts, like looking back on his childhood, were written in retrospect, but others were written in the moment. Thus, Ruhl’s own voice and perspective changes over the course of the memoir in ways I found fascinating. Perhaps the most noticeable to me was how he moved from exoticizing Japan a bit when he first visited to beautifully articulating why that needs to be avoided as an American Zen practitioner later in the book.

Ruhl beautifully articulates what it feels like to grow up rural white poor, how that culture is beautiful and painful simultaneously, and, similarly, how it is both a relief and an ache to leave and live elsewhere. I thought this book would pair nicely with reading Limbo: Blue Collar Roots, White Collar Dreams (review). As part of his training, Ruhl went back to Pennsylvania to bring Zen to these hills. I was so excited about this part of the book because I find the idea of Buddhist ministry to the rural parts of the US like where I grew up so fascinating. But unfortunately the book had very little to say about it. That disappointed me. I wanted to know more about how he felt going back, what it was like to be back as a forming Zen minister, and how people in the area responded to Zen. It seemed to me that he was quite motivated to go back and do this work and then after his training he, instead, returned to Massachusetts. I realize that even memoirists get to hold parts of themselves and their journey private. But in a book called Appalachian Zen, I felt like it wasn’t unreasonable of me as a reader to expect more clarity about what happened here. Even if something simple and straightforward was said like…I realized that type of ministry wasn’t for me.

In contrast the author is exquisitely honest when discussing the suicides of two women he loved dearly – his sister and a close friend (former girlfriend). This part of the book moved me so much, I could only read it a few pages at a time. The author reveals the full spectrum of grief, including guilt, and even includes some excerpts from his ex-girlfriend’s journals, which she mailed to him just before she committed suicide. This is one of the most raw and honest accountings of being bereaved for someone lost in that way. But do be aware the methods of suicide are described (although not in graphic detail).

Ruhl describes participating in trainings with both the Zen Peacemakers, and the Zen Mountain Monastery, along with some other organizations. His trainings with the Zen Peacemakers included taking on being unhoused for a few days and traveling to Dachau to confront the Holocaust. His time with the Zen Mountain Monastery seems to have been more traditionally Zen. You can read more about Ruhl’s current work on his website.

Overall, this is a unique and emotional memoir written throughout the author’s life. The reader should be prepared for some areas to be explored more in-depth than others and open to aspects of Zen Buddhist thought being incorporated throughout.

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4 out of 5 stars

Length: 356 pages – average but on the longer side

Source: Library

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