varies from one part of the Navajonnation to another, an important factnthat leads Joe Leaphorn, Hillerman’snNavajo detective hero, to conclude thatnthe suspected wolf is in truth a wellreadn”Los Angeles Navajo,” raised offnthe reservation and unaware of narrownlocal custom.nHillerman abandoned Navajo countrynfor his next book. The Fly on thenWall, a political thriller. However, innDance Hall of the Dead, Hillermannreturns his readers to the little-knownnworld of the Zuni people of easternnNew Mexico, who each year honor thenShalako, a bird spirit who brings messagesnfrom their gods. A neighboringnNavajo boy, trained to play the ceremonialnpart of the Shalako, has disappearednat Zuni Pueblo, and it isnLeaphorn’s task to find him among the,nthousands of visitors who havenstreamed in to watch the week-longnrituals — among them, again, a NavajonWolf and an army of stoned hippies.nHillerman’s tale touches on many interestingnelements, among them beingnthe ancient hatred of Navajo for Zuni.n(Many traditionalists still believe that anZuni has to scalp a Navajo beforenbeing admitted into the closed religiousnfraternities of the Shalako and its alliedn•BRIEF MENTIONSnkachinas.) And it introduces a themenhe will develop in later novels: thenclash between living Native Americansnand Anglo archaeologists, who, it isnwidely held in Indian country, arennothing more than glorified grave robbers.nIn the middle 1970’s, Hillermannintroduced a second Navajo policemannhero, Sergeant Jim Chee, who figurednin his next three novels: The GhostnWay, The Dark Wind, and People ofnDarkness. Like Leaphorn, Chee isnintensely curious about white peoplen—belagdana, from the Navajo approxirnationnfor “American” — and theirnodd customs; at the University of NewnMexico, he had “studied anthropology,nsociology, and American literaturenin class. Every waking moment henstudied the way white men behaved.nAll four subjects fascinated him.” ButnChee, from a rural background, isnmore traditional than Leaphorn, alsontrained in anthropology and literaturenat Arizona State University; along withnhis academic courses, Chee has fornyears studied to become a hatathali, ansinger of the Blessing Way and othernpurifying rites. Leaphorn is an assimilationist,nseemingly content to live inntwo worlds, white and red; Chee’s aimnYES, LET’S: NEW AND SELECTED POEMS by Tom DischnBaltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 112 pp., $8.95 (paper)nNot yet 50 years old, Tom Disch has already had a remarkably varied career as ansuccessful author of science fiction, theater critic of The Nation, and as a poetnwho has managed to create interesting work in an age of dullness. His newest volume,nYes, Let’s, is distinguished neither by its bulk nor by its range, but withinnhis own special groove, Disch moves with the agility and force of a kick-boxer.nDisch’s groove lies somewhere between irony and whimsy, near the pointnwhere both converge on the metaphysical. Some of his poems begin in andeceptively light vein, only to deliver a surprise punch. More than once his sci-fininterest breaks through, never more memorable than in “A Vacation on Earth”:n”It is hard to believe / we have our source in this nightmare / tangle of vegetablenmatter and stone, / that this hell is where / it all began.”nDisch is quirky, unpredictable, and irreverent with a satire that is savage in itsnrestraint. He is equally “unkind” to society’s losers and to the winners whonalternately despise and patronize them. He says of a derelict, “Not even thenangels who gather / Over the doorway of Citibank / To bathe in their tears — notneven they / Can make you behave,” and portrays a blindman’s fantasy revengenon the sighted: “I would kick / you when you weren’t looking / more than once Inwould be hideous / if you could see me / you would be so terrified / that younwould be glad you were blind.”nThere is a tradition of this sort of writing in America among poets of annanarchist bent. One thinks of e.e. cummings and even more of KennethnPatchen, but unlike Patchen (and like cummings) Disch is technically competentnas a versifier. His sense of phrasing in his relatively free verse is flawless, andnhis experiments in rhyme and rhythm put him in the first class of the so-calledn”new formalists.” (TF)n34/CHRONICLESnnnis to bring what he can learn from thenalien world into his quest for the Navajonideal — hozro, or internal and externalnharmony with one’s surroundings.nWhen Leaphorn witnesses a death, henmay unplug the telephone and take andrink or two; when Chee sees thenhorrors of his time — for instance,nNavajo drunks “sprawled in Gallupnalleys, frozen in the sagebrush besidenthe road to Shiprock, mangled likenjackrabbits on the asphalt of US Highwayn666” — he goes to a medicinenman for catharsis, for, as ChangingnWoman taught the Dine, “returning tonbeauty require[s] a cure.”nDespite their fictive differences,nhowever, Leaphorn and Chee behavenalmost identically in the tales of theirnrespective series; one senses thatnHillerman introduced the second characternonly to avoid wearing outnLeaphorn’s welcome. Nowhere is thisnmore clear than in Skinwalkers (1987),nHillerman’s first novel after a longnsilence in the early and middle 1980’s,nin which Leaphorn and Chee arenbrought together for the first time.nAgain, the subject is witchcraft.nChee, who has been undergoing initiationnrites to become a shaman of hisnclan, is ambushed while asleep in hisnhogan — the traditional octagonal hutnof the Navajo, its door always facingneast to the sunrise—by a shotgunwielding,nunseen assailant. Investigatingnthe wreckage after the assault,nChee stumbles upon a small bead ofnworked bone, the unmistakable weaponnof one bewitched, a “skinwalker,”nwho uses it to inject his or her “corpsensickness” into someone else and therebynbe freed of the curse. Chee turns tonLeaphorn for help in solving the case,nand Leaphorn is only too happy tonoblige, for he harbors a deep hatred ofnwitchcraft, which he considers to be anforeign aberration introduced to thenNavajo by Indians from the GreatnPlains. Leaphorn, a technician whonobsessively keeps track of crimes on thenNavajo reservation with colored mapnpins — red for alcohol-related arrests,nblack for complaints of sorcery, and thenlike — soon determines that the attacknon Chee is part of a larger, geometricnpattern of seemingly supernaturalnmurders.nSkinwalkers showcases Hillerman’snmany virtues as a writer of detectivenfiction, chief among them being hisn