by Thomas Urquhart ‧ RELEASE DATE: June 1, 2004
Effusive, wandering attempt to codify the good fight.
Memoirs of a privileged life given largely to contemplation of nature’s gifts, their abuse by humankind, and hopes for future redress.
A UN diplomat’s son raised in Britain and the US, the former symphonic orchestra administrator and the Maine Audubon Society’s executive director tells where and why he cultivated the lifestyle of avid birder and amateur naturalist, and how inspiration from poetry and classical music blends readily, for him, into those lifelong endeavors. Offering more of a celebration than a polemic, Urquhart revisits encounters in the natural world of his childhood England and the America, principally New England, to which he was transplanted and remains. While abundant in detail—especially when it comes to birding strategies and their emotional rewards—these passages often lapse into a flow in which the author is compelled by his own considerable wit and charm to meander off topic and on again. (One bizarre but somewhat entertaining example: citing a not-directly-related 17th-century Urquhart who translated Rabelais but dared to add a number of his own off-the-wall modifiers, all footnoted, to describe Gargantua’s penis.) Later in reconstructing trips to Africa and especially Provence the author waxes more to the point in confronting the dire consequences of man’s failure to comprehend spiritually, as well as intellectually, the ancestral bond with nature; this, he warns, is the real root of potential neglect, abuse, and irrevocable devastation of the environment. While this gains its force in being personal, even intimate, its inspirational qualities are broadly generalized and scattered with poetry fragments or, for example, Jungian references that don’t always carve out relevance. At one point, however, Urquhart does identify man as his own worst enemy in the form of the farmer at an environmental hearing who declares: “God made the earth for us, not us for it.”Effusive, wandering attempt to codify the good fight.
Pub Date: June 1, 2004
Page Count: 320
Publisher: Shoemaker & Hoard
Review Posted Online: May 19, 2010
Kirkus Reviews Issue: April 1, 2004
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A quirky wonder of a book.
A Peabody Award–winning NPR science reporter chronicles the life of a turn-of-the-century scientist and how her quest led to significant revelations about the meaning of order, chaos, and her own existence.
Miller began doing research on David Starr Jordan (1851-1931) to understand how he had managed to carry on after the 1906 San Francisco earthquake destroyed his work. A taxonomist who is credited with discovering “a full fifth of fish known to man in his day,” Jordan had amassed an unparalleled collection of ichthyological specimens. Gathering up all the fish he could save, Jordan sewed the nameplates that had been on the destroyed jars directly onto the fish. His perseverance intrigued the author, who also discusses the struggles she underwent after her affair with a woman ended a heterosexual relationship. Born into an upstate New York farm family, Jordan attended Cornell and then became an itinerant scholar and field researcher until he landed at Indiana University, where his first ichthyological collection was destroyed by lightning. In between this catastrophe and others involving family members’ deaths, he reconstructed his collection. Later, he was appointed as the founding president of Stanford, where he evolved into a Machiavellian figure who trampled on colleagues and sang the praises of eugenics. Miller concludes that Jordan displayed the characteristics of someone who relied on “positive illusions” to rebound from disaster and that his stand on eugenics came from a belief in “a divine hierarchy from bacteria to humans that point[ed]…toward better.” Considering recent research that negates biological hierarchies, the author then suggests that Jordan’s beloved taxonomic category—fish—does not exist. Part biography, part science report, and part meditation on how the chaos that caused Miller’s existential misery could also bring self-acceptance and a loving wife, this unique book is an ingenious celebration of diversity and the mysterious order that underlies all existence.A quirky wonder of a book.
Pub Date: April 14, 2020
Page Count: 224
Publisher: Simon & Schuster
Review Posted Online: Jan. 1, 2020
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Feb. 1, 2020
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Unsentimental nature writing that sheds as much light on humans as on eels.
An account of the mysterious life of eels that also serves as a meditation on consciousness, faith, time, light and darkness, and life and death.
In addition to an intriguing natural history, Swedish journalist Svensson includes a highly personal account of his relationship with his father. The author alternates eel-focused chapters with those about his father, a man obsessed with fishing for this elusive creature. “I can’t recall us ever talking about anything other than eels and how to best catch them, down there by the stream,” he writes. “I can’t remember us speaking at all….Because we were in…a place whose nature was best enjoyed in silence.” Throughout, Svensson, whose beat is not biology but art and culture, fills his account with people: Aristotle, who thought eels emerged live from mud, “like a slithering, enigmatic miracle”; Freud, who as a teenage biologist spent months in Trieste, Italy, peering through a microscope searching vainly for eel testes; Johannes Schmidt, who for two decades tracked thousands of eels, looking for their breeding grounds. After recounting the details of the eel life cycle, the author turns to the eel in literature—e.g., in the Bible, Rachel Carson’s Under the Sea Wind, and Günter Grass’ The Tin Drum—and history. He notes that the Puritans would likely not have survived without eels, and he explores Sweden’s “eel coast” (what it once was and how it has changed), how eel fishing became embroiled in the Northern Irish conflict, and the importance of eel fishing to the Basque separatist movement. The apparent return to life of a dead eel leads Svensson to a consideration of faith and the inherent message of miracles. He warns that if we are to save this fascinating creature from extinction, we must continue to study it. His book is a highly readable place to begin learning.Unsentimental nature writing that sheds as much light on humans as on eels.
Pub Date: May 5, 2020
Page Count: 256
Review Posted Online: Feb. 29, 2020
Kirkus Reviews Issue: March 15, 2020
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