On Extinction by Melanie Challenger

A lyrical contemplation of biological and cultural extinctions and their significance in our human future.

Poet Melanie Challenger (Galatea) was alarmed to note that while she knew both her grandmother’s and her mother’s favorite wildflower, she did not have a favorite because she didn’t know enough wildflowers from which to choose. In On Extinction, she travels to places that embody the history of human connections to nature and muses on our growing estrangement from our environment.

The title suggests Challenger’s initial focus on extinctions: not only of plants and animals, but of cultures, languages and industries. She quickly discovers a growing secondary interest in nostalgia, like our attraction to extinctions, which makes the dodo bird the subject of so much curiosity. In her travels through the Arctic and the Antarctic, England, South America and Canada, she attempts to reunite with nature and find her own favorite wildflower. She also asks: Can humans live productively in this world without destroying it? She is made hopeful by our reverence for the past and for natural beauty.

Challenger brings a loving sense of wonder to the natural world, realizing how little she knows and relishing the process of learning. She looks backwards with the intent of remaking our future relationship with the planet. She does, as one might expect, discuss Muir and Thoreau, but she also turns to Locke, J.S. Mill, Rousseau and especially Darwin, seeking a philosophy of the natural world and our place in it. Highly literate with a lovely, almost reverent tone, On Extinction notes human threats to our environment but ultimately remains hopeful that we can reestablish a healthy relationship with the Earth.


This review originally ran in the December 21, 2012 issue of Shelf Awareness for Readers. To subscribe, click here, and you’ll receive two issues per week of book reviews and other bookish fun!


Rating: 6 falling leaves.

guest review: Born to Run by Christopher McDougall, from Pops

Pops joins us again today to write about a book firmly within his area of expertise: running. We’ve all heard something about Born to Run, I believe. I’ve certainly heard good things; but have never been strongly inclined to pick it up. Pops may change my mind, though.

borntorunI am writing to make a public apology to myself for not reading this book three years ago; and to make a few personal comments for what they’re worth. It’s not coincidence that I pulled it from the shelf soon after reading Ayers’ The Longest Race; that book reminded me that McDougall’s work might contain some of the same magic, which I had (indeed!) delayed for too long. That instinct was accurate; there are similarities between the two that I really appreciated: inspiring depictions of running, fascinating science & history and a wonderful (though different) voice.

Much has already been written about this book, mostly positive and in great thoroughness. I won’t add much to that effort. Another place to look for insight would be McDougall’s website where you can peruse selected readers’ comments; this book has literally changed lives and inspired people. There are also some wonderful photos, which illustrate that this really is non-fiction, as absurd as that may seem while reading it.

I have mentioned before that I collect books about running, particularly in an often frustrating search for good fiction. This is one of the best running books I have ever read. In spite of its connection to reality, it reflects some of fiction’s best elements: humbly heroic characters who are larger than life; a compelling story that defies reality; a romantic adventurous heart; a witty rollicking storyteller’s voice; and sexy women running hard & kicking ass.

I knew bits & pieces about many of the characters in this story, about the ultra running culture and community, about the barefoot running revolution it stimulated and about the Tarahumara Indians. None of that prepared me for such a fun, informative, exciting and ultimately poignant journey. It is always risky to compare writers or books, but I must say that McDougall’s work reminded me in some ways of both Tom Wolfe and Hunter S. Thompson. I kept stopping to think “I know this is based on fact, but it’s so wild and so much fun I can’t believe it!”

Arnulfo Quimare, “elite” Tarahumara runner

Arnulfo Quimare, “elite” Tarahumara runner


The poignant part of the story actually arrives outside the book, sharply in the realm of real life but in some ways as hard to believe. This probably qualifies as a spoiler so stop right now if you want to read the book first; but for me it is an important part of the tale. It’s almost like McDougall should write the sequel.

Here is a relevant quote from the book that sets up the surrealistic “real life” conclusion. The main character in the book, Caballo Blanco, is speaking (he worshiped Geronimo as a kid and retained great respect for the Apache warrior.)

“When I get too old to work, I’ll do what Geronimo would’ve if they’d left him alone… I’ll walk off into the deep canyons and find a quiet place to lie down.”

The author then comments: “There was no melodrama or self-pity in the way Caballo said this, just the understanding that someday, the life he’d chosen would require one last disappearance.”

In March of this year (2012) Caballo was visiting southwest New Mexico so he could run the rugged mountain trails in the Gila Wilderness. One day he planned an easy solo run of 12 miles or so – and he never returned. The Forest Service began a search, and many of his friends (including the author and many characters from the book) arrived from around the country to join the hunt by running the trails. On search day 5, it was a group of Caballo’s running friends who found him off an obscure trail near a stream, dead from heart failure apparently unrelated to any disease or abnormality. He was 58 years old.

(This is also a curious “synchronicity” for blog readers who remember our family fixation with Fire Season, which is set only a few miles away from where Caballo met his end.)

You can read more about this sorrowful ending on the author’s web site, various other online sources, or this NY Times story. The author told his own version of this ending in a piece for Outside Magazine.

Caballo Blanco, RIP.

Caballo Blanco, RIP.

Thanks for another solid review, Pops. You make a strong case. Narrative nonfiction (aka “creative nonfiction”) about exciting, culturally diverse, outdoorsy, unbelievable experiences is right up my alley.

two-wheeled thoughts: Arthur Conan Doyle

two-wheeled thoughts

When the spirits are low, when the day appears dark, when work becomes monotonous, when hope hardly seems worth having, just mount a bicycle and go out for a spin down the road, without thought on anything but the ride you are taking.

–Arthur Conan Doyle

Ahh, exercise, the greatest antidepressant I know! It’s an unfortunate cycle (no pun intended) that when I am off my bike for several days at a time, I start feeling down, and then am less likely to get out for a ride which is just what I need most. But I mostly know myself well enough to recognize that a bike ride is the best cure for most anything that ails – even a little 30 minute spin. You don’t have to be Sherlock Holmes to solve that puzzle!

2012: A Year in Review

Everybody loves statistics, right? 🙂 This is my second year-in-review post (see 2011 here), so I’m able to make some comparisons, too. Of the 126 books I read in 2012…

  • 51% were nonfiction (up from 17% last year)
  • 32% were by female authors (46% last year)
  • of the novels I read, 31% were mysteries, 27% were historical fiction and 23% were classics. The rest were a smattering of short stories, drama, horror, humor, and “other.” Last year 60% were mysteries, 8% were historical fiction, 7% were classics, and the rest a mixture of short stories, drama, poetry, romance, fantasy, and “other.”
  • 25% were audiobooks. (22% last year)
  • 40% of the books I read came from the library, but see below* for why that’s changing. another 32% came were review copies, and 28% came from my personal collection; the rest were books I was loaned, books I purchased, or (those treasured few) books I was given as gifts. last year, 60% came from the library, 24% came from publishers for review, and only 13% were owned, borrowed, purchased or gifted.

For the very *best* books I’ve read this year, see yesterday’s post.

So, how have my reading habits changed? Well, most notably…

*I have kept this quiet here on pagesofjulia so far, because it hasn’t seemed all that relevant, but here’s a big piece of news for 2012: I got a new job! I am no longer working in a general/leisure reading library for patients of the hospital that employs me. Now, I’m in a library – in the same hospital – that serves patients, family members, and visitors with health and medical information regarding their conditions, treatment options, prognoses, etc. It’s more technical work, and more challenging and stimulating, and I enjoy it very much! (I’m also quite a bit busier. I hope this has not been too terribly evident around here…) What this means for my reading: I’m no longer tempted to pick up the latest and greatest new thing anymore. My new books overwhelmingly now come to me through Shelf Awareness and my gig reviewing books for them; otherwise, I’m trying to read from my shelves at home. I only have 3 full bookshelves of books waiting to be read! So I count this a good thing, mostly: I’m able to concentrate on those books I’ve brought home and housed because I really wanted to read them. Fewer distractions, if you will. On the other hand, I’m more likely to miss the next (for example) Song of Achilles – one of the best books I read all year – because I’m no longer paying attention to current bestsellers. There are always pros and cons to any change. But I’m very happy at work!

A few further changes I’ve noticed in my reading habits: I’m reading more and more nonfiction. See above: up from only 17% last year, fully half the books I read this year were nonfiction. That makes me happy. Far from being dry and boring, nonfiction is some of the best stuff I read (see again yesterday’s post about the best books of the year). Also, I hadn’t noticed this until I pulled this post together, but my fiction reading is getting more diverse: last year I read 60% mysteries, and this year only 31%. I think diversity is generally a good thing, so this makes me glad, too.

On the other hand, speaking of diversity, my reading of female authors is down. I know this makes me a bad feminist; but what can I say, I just read what appeals to me. My favorite authors are overwhelmingly male: Edward Abbey and Ernest Hemingway top the list, and they’re both misogynistic and/or womanizing, to boot! It just doesn’t feel right to choose books based on author gender, though, so I am shrugging this one off and carrying on.

Please tell me: had you noticed any changes here?? I think the biggest blog-related change in my life since I started the new job in September, is that I haven’t had the time to follow all the other great reading blogs I used to enjoy. I miss you all. :-/ So sorry – now you know it wasn’t you!

I am perhaps happiest about the trend towards reading more books off my own bookshelves. Here’s to more work on the TBR lists/shelves in 2013! I’m looking forward to a year filled with more great reading, exciting library work, and fewer knee injuries, please.

Teaser Tuesdays: The Eyre Affair by Jasper Fforde

Teaser Tuesdays is a weekly bookish meme, hosted by MizB of Should Be Reading. Anyone can play along! Just open your current read to a random page and share a few sentences. Be careful not to include spoilers!

eyreaffair

Sorry. I know I just teased you with this one recently, but it’s simply too much fun. See:

He patted the large book that was the Prose Portal and looked at Mycroft’s genetically engineered bookworms. They were on rest & recuperation at present in their goldfish bowl; they had just digested a recent meal of prepositions and were happily farting out apostrophes and ampersands; the air was heavy with them.

How could I have passed up the meal of prepositions and the farting of apostrophes? I ask you. Great fun, this world of Thursday Next!

Happy reading in 2013, kids! Year-in-review post coming later on today.

best of 2012: year’s end

My year-in-review post is coming, but first, let’s take a look at the very BEST books I read in 2012. Not published in 2012, you understand – although several were that, as well. I was able to narrow it down to a list of 14 books and 1 short story; and I’m hoping you’ll forgive me for such a long list because 1) I read 126 books in 2012, and 2) I’ve broken them out into categories for you. 🙂

Best print nonfiction of 2012:

Best print fiction of 2012:

Best audio nonfiction of 2012:

Best audio fiction of 2012:

Many thanks to my editor at Shelf Awareness who sent me 4 of the 5 books in that first category to review! You’re doing a great job, Marilyn! And, bonus: Shelf Awareness just the other day published an issue entirely devoted to the best books of 2012. Their list includes two of my best of the year; one I really wanted to read but didn’t get around to (Robert MacFarlane’s The Old Ways); one I reviewed; and one that I would totally rate a runner-up for audio nonfiction (Jenny Lawson’s Let’s Pretend This Never Happened). Not to mention, a whole bunch I never heard of, so there you are! Always more to read!

What did YOU read this year that’s blown you away?

Two Friends and The Lancer’s Wife, by Guy de Maupassant

photo credit

Guy de Maupassant (photo credit)

I recently read my very first Maupassant, Boule de Suif, and found it stellarly crafted. Recently I had a few more loose reading moments – the perfect chance to dip back into his short story collection briefly. The next two stories of his that I’ve encountered continue very much in the same subject area. The French are being occupied by the hated Prussians, and the French citizens are more or less commonly outraged, but they all react differently. As in Boule de Suif, the incisive portrayals of human character are the strength of these stories, along with character sketches and images of occupied wartime.

The Lancer’s Wife sees a small band of French soldiers, after a French defeat, living under Swiss protection. Their captain is furious at being removed from the action, and takes a handful of his men, including our narrator, secretly back into France to fight guerrilla-style. This tiny group, joined by the captain’s loyal and martial wife, encounters a tiny Prussian group of fighters, which includes the Prussian lancer’s wife as well. Without spoilers, I shall say that the two wives come face to face, and the issue is one of honor. If the qualities and moral of this story are a little idealistic, I am happy to be forgiving, because it’s well done and a joy to read.

In Two Friends, two Frenchmen who have enjoyed fishing together in the past, but who are now living under Prussian occupation, endeavor to go fishing once again, and are captured by the enemy. Again there is a question of honor. Again high standards are met, and I am left, after these two stories, with a feeling of nostalgia for the fine men and women of a time gone by. These are lofty emotions to be evoked by stories about war; but Maupassant renders the setting so beautifully that, again, I can only marvel at the craft.

I believe Boule de Suif is more or less accepted as his finest story, and it’s true that these, while impressive, were shorter and less impactful. However, they were easy to lose myself in. This man is a master of the short story.


Rating: 7 chins held high.

The Black Box by Michael Connelly

Harry Bosch’s investigation into a 20-year-old murder linked to the Rodney King riots and the first Gulf War is set to a moody jazz soundtrack.

The Black Box, Michael Connelly’s 25th novel, comes 20 years after his first, The Black Echo, which introduced readers to Los Angeles detective Hieronymus (Harry) Bosch. These days, Bosch is working with the LAPD’s Open/Unsolved Unit, and he decides to pursue a 20-year-old case that was originally his: the murder of Danish photojournalist Anneke Jespersen during the 1992 riots. Bosch never got a chance to investigate thoroughly–but, as regular readers know, Bosch never gives up. As he pursues the reason Jespersen came to Los Angeles in the first place, he finds himself investigating war crimes dating back to Desert Storm. Searching for the “black box” that will reveal the recorded secrets of Jespersen’s murder, Bosch also lands (not unusually) on the wrong side of the police department’s leadership.

All the strengths that Connelly’s readers have come to expect are on display. He employs an expert sense of place in evoking a gritty, stark Los Angeles, and the mood of the novel is dark and brooding. The pacing is taut, the characters well developed. Bosch’s side interests in jazz artists like Art Pepper and baseball greats like Casey Stengel provide depth and layers to his personality. Series readers will enjoy the updates on ongoing story lines, as Bosch’s daughter, Madeline, continues to mature and his relationship with girlfriend Hannah struggles along. But like all Connelly’s atmospheric, fully realized novels, The Black Box can also be read as an entirely satisfying stand-alone mystery.


This review originally ran in the December 14, 2012 issue of Shelf Awareness for Readers. To subscribe, click here, and you’ll receive two issues per week of book reviews and other bookish fun!


Rating: 6 furrowed brows.

two-wheeled thoughts: Wolfgang Sachs

two-wheeled thoughts

Those who wish to control their own lives and move beyond existence as mere clients and consumers – those people ride a bike.

–Wolfgang Sachs, of the Wuppertal Institute for Climate, Environment and Energy and the former Chairman of Greenpeace, Germany.

I have long found it strange that we talk about “driving” cars and “riding” bicycles, when it fact it seems to me the opposite: when we operate cars, we take a more passive role, sitting (or slouching) and working the controls; whereas on a bicycle, the operator sits, stands, works every second, pedaling, and making micro-adjustments to balance and handling and interacting with the outside world directly. No glass, plastic or metal separates the cyclist from her surroundings, and every shred of power and maneuvering is her own. Therefore I think of us more as driving a bicycle while we ride in cars. And that is part of what Sachs’s statement, above, means to me.

Second of two days off.

Tomorrow, we’ll be back to our regularly scheduled programming.

Happy holidays!