Elder.

On the occasion of the publishing of his latest collection of poetry, Songs of Unreason (November 1), and his latest novel, The Great Leader (October 4), Ursa Major was interviewed by Tom Bissell ...

Sometimes we you are talking to Harrison, he gets incredibly still. He looks away and starts breathing wheezily from his chest and his eyes fade, and you begin to worry that he is in the middle of a cardiac event. Other times, when he is talking about drinking or writing or his wife or daughters or grand­children, he becomes boyish, all the wrinkles ironed out of his face and his eyes slits of joy. Other times, when he is losing his patience, he resembles some kind of Indian werebear with a face wrecked by pit fighting. With Harrison it is impossible to feel something so simple as friendship. He seems to me the closest thing we have to a tribal ­elder. If writers ever required permission to raid ­another tribe and steal its corn, we would need to ask Harrison. He would listen carefully and judge prudently. We would never doubt his judgment, even when we saw him playing in the stream an hour later.

Read the rest at Outside.