The Santa Ana and Brush Fire Texts Linda Thomas’s “Brush Fire” is like the micro-perspective and Joan Didion’s “The Santa Ana” is like that macro-perspective when it comes to describing the late-fall winds and the fires that consume the region. Thomas tells of the brush and the irony of building in the path of the fires. Didion tells of the wind and the fire and the irony of living in a place that so resembles a kind of apocalyptic nightmare, where life becomes hellish for a short period every year. Both texts intersect at the point of irony—as the irony of living in a land that only became populated for reasons which are quite distinct from anything natural or organic is completely realized in each. But the texts diverge at the point of focus. Thomas looks outward at the natural world and the oddity of humans who think they can somehow take over the natural world by sheer force of will: Thomas views this absurdity wryly, noting of herself only that her sinuses are impacted by the air—once again. She spends the bulk of the essay simply observing her surroundings, describing the flora, and watching the scene unfold—even identifying a few of the others that are there as well, come to watch the flames lick the hillside (which they can do because the builders and developers—in their infinite wisdom—had the brilliant idea of putting a thoroughfare there). Didion, on the other hand, looks inward, using the fact of the forceful Santa Ana to see within herself the strain and tension of life, and to note how one’s environment can cause one, quite simply, to snap. She describes the string of murders and insane actions that occurred during one particularly band Santa Ana. Thomas describes the brush. Didion quotes Chandler—the herald of hard-boiled wisdom. Thomas marvels at the cycle of life that is nature in southern California. Didion marvels that life goes on at all in this part of the world—that people put up with it…that things somehow keep going.

Thomas draws attention to the folly of humankind by depicting it in terms of contrast with the beauty and awe-inspiring wonder of the natural world—of the brush that burns and needs heat to explode its seed pods to ensure that life continues for the next generation of brush; of brush that comes back quickly after every...

Thomas’s message is one of consideration for the majestic nature of the region—the sky, the ash, the fire, the rebirth. She admires it all, even though the sinus trouble is particularly afflicting. She is not there to complain about that. Her focus is on the story that is told every year by the fires, by the brush—by the people who think that living in the midst of it all is somehow something that can work. As she wryly notes, the brush comes back again the following year—the houses that are consumed in the fire do not.
Didion takes a completely different approach. She transcends the environment, while Thomas situates herself right in the midst of it, takes a spot and describes it in detail (her drive to work serves as a type of windshield survey). Didion takes the bird’s eye view—using the macro-perspective to describe the world in which she lives—her slice of life in California, and how bizarre it can get for all people involved. She notes that the Santa Ana is a not a particularly unique phenomenon in the world—that there are malevolent winds in other parts of the world as well. Unlike Thomas, she moves out of the area and takes a macro look at the whole world, finding the universal in it, extending the meaning upward and outward even as she simultaneously plumbs inward into the human psyche, the way the body physically responds to the changes in the environment, the way the inner soul and blood reflect the dramatic tension in the physical world: “In Los Angeles some teachers do not attempt to conduct formal classes during a Santa Ana, because the children become unmanageable. In Switzerland the suicide rate goes up during the foehn, and in the courts of some Swiss cantons the wind is considered a mitigating circumstance for crime. Surgeons are said to watch the wind, because blood does not clot normally during a foehn” (Didion 25). She is like Shakespeare, using weather to reflect the idea of what is happening on the inside of a character—only…