Zen Forest, review by Nora Drutz, Canadian Book Review Annual

     In the Zen religion, truth can be obtained by self-knowledge and introspection, leading to an intuition of the principles underlying the universe. In the "Zen Forest" of experience, Zonailo, through her own introspections and meditations, reveals these truths, the individual as past of the universal harmony. She deals with such elemental truths as life, love, death, rebirth, and the afterlife. An event or scene from nature, such as a sunny afternoon at the beach, is often the starting point for philosophical abstractions. Zonailo deals with opposites: darkness/light, death/rebirth, etc. Elements of nature symbolize rebirth and continuity. Light symbolizes creation and love. Water represents our primordial origins, a place of buoyance and freedom. Air represents constraint, an ambience where we languish. According to Zonailo, we are alone in the universe, bereft of religious consolation. "We move towards embrace or toward space / In between, nothingness." She doubts the Elysian Fields, but wonders about the Revelation. We are "brave and forlorn...traveling / toward some kind of destination... We're surrounded by danger, / poised on the edge / of extinction or discovery, / waiting for revelation. / Will the same flowers bloom / in our afterlife?" Love and human relations are our only salvation.

     Zen Forest is not a dry and arid book. It is rooted in the here and now, on the beaches and Marine Drives of Vancouver. There is a muted and delicate feeling to the work: "Grey sea grass," "muted river tones," "pale ghostly flowers," "pale pink tulips / with tongue coloured petals," "rain clouds... obscuring the sharp outline of mountain." Her style is spare, clear, simple, and intimate, as if she were having a private conversation with the reader. Sometimes the message is too delicate, too simple, a little banal. However, for the most part, there is an immediacy and power to the work. One comes away profoundly moved.

Copyright by Nora Drutz: www.carolynzonailo.com, 2004.