Mark of the Bear [antikvár]

INIRODUCIION iY Paul Schullekv OR THE LOVE OF BEARS Today the bear is an abstraction for most of us, wliicli is reason enougli to present a collection of stories like Mark of the Bear. Tliese stories are written by people who have taken bears personally, people who have spent enough time in bear country to form something deeper than mere impressions of bears tliey've seen. By bringing the bear back to a personal level—by at least vicariously sharing in encounters—perhaps we can appreciate a little more deeply how good it is to have bears around. These writers have emerged from their time in bear country—the Aixtic, the iiigh West, New England, or whatever wild corner of the country they've traveled—with something amounting to a viewpoint, even a position, on this whole complicated business of being widi bears. I call it a complicated business, and others may agree, but unless we extend oiu- bear appreciation beyond where bears actually live, we just have no idea how complicated the bear is. Unless we pursue the bear- tlirough literature, lore, and spiritual traditions, we can't guess what a fantastic world of dreams and ideas the people who preceeded us constnicted as they met, fought, and wondered about bears. The mythologjst Joseph Campbell has written that Neanderthal bear-skull sancmaries in Old World caves are "our earliest evidence anywhere on eardi of the veneration of a divine being." This is an almost breathtaking revelation: the bear was a primary presence in early human religion (and if you've met one, it's not hard to understand why). We tarned to it even before we found our way to tiie huge variety of T/« adultjjrizdy's massive skull anchors tremendously stronjj jaw muscles, so stronjj that they can crush buffalo bones or bite throujfh a metal sitillet.