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 REVIEWS A Ghostly Debris Jeremy James discovers when humanity began exploiting the natural world On Extinction: How We Became Estranged from Nature Melanie Challenger Granta Books, 2011 ISBN: 9781847081872 Whale-bone arches in Whitby © Whitby Literary and Philosophical Society The trick with this book is to read the contents page first, then you won’t get lost. It’s divided into three Peregrinations, which take you on three different odysseys, and once you’ve got that you’ll have your compass. It’s an offbeat read, having a stream-of-consciousness stamp about it, at times being intensely personal and at other times aloof. Melanie Challenger treats us to a galaxy of thinkers who have commented upon humanity’s guardianship or exploitation of the natural world and how that, from time to time, has disposed of itself. Mixing in personal reminiscence – including the presence of an influential grandmother – she intersperses the whole with clunky poetic asides, making it a rounded work on a subject well researched and deeply felt – a diverting contrast to the dry tomes that science so often hurls at us. Even Francis Bacon thought that the noblest thing humankind can aim for is domination of the universe. She ponders our responses, ethical and emotional, to this. The second Peregrination finds Challenger in South Georgia, where she gives us Willem Van der Does’ grim prognosis of 1934 that “whales are creatures that are doomed to disappear ... from the earth ... despite all legal measures to prevent it.” Wandering amid the ghostly debris of the former whaling station, she reminds us of the ozone hole and leaps from subject to subject, from the Nazis to the rise of technology, the reason for the interlude being to point out that whale products didn’t just go into brooms, corsets and street lamps: they went into explosives – a neat, brutal adjunct to her point. The last Peregrination brings us back to Whitby in Yorkshire and its links with Dracula – a metaphor for humanity’s vampiric predilections – and We are treated to a galaxy of thinkers Her first Peregrination begins in Cornwall, with the demise of the tin-mining industry – an industrial extinction. Challenger describes what that collapse did to the community and landscape; and although much was lost, much was gained: wildlife opportunistically inhabited abandoned mines, birds – peregrines and nightjars – and bats reappeared, as did certain species of plants tolerant of copper in topsoil. Recalling a line from Darwin, she points out: “lighten any check, mitigate the destruction ever so little, and the numbers of species will increase to any amount.” Contrasting this with the collapse of the Cornish fishing industry, which coincided with the depletion of world fish stocks, she offers a quote from George Perkins Marsh: “man is everywhere a disturbing agent ... Wherever he plants his foot, the harmonies of nature are turned to discords.” She offers a brief discourse on early Greek thought, where the natural world was considered to be for human exploitation, which had dramatic influence on how the natural world was perceived. Cicero’s On the Nature of Gods talks of the superior rights of human beings, suggesting the principle of a world made for human consumption. From Genesis to Aquinas there exists a presumption of Nature for the use and exploitation by humans, in all its hierarchy of life forms, “to all diversify beneath humans as the ordered design of dominion”. She quotes Locke: “subduing or cultivating the earth ... and having dominion we see are joined together.” the whaling industry. Then we’re off to the Inuit of Canada, the melting snowcap and ice floes, the tragedy of the people, the suicides, alcoholism and loss of place, the destruction of their traditional way of life, and whale hunting for survival as opposed to profit. It’s a bleak picture. Challenger ends in The Fens, where, surprised by her own lack of knowledge of wild flora, she sets about remedying it and even then notices how restricted the varieties are: even the flora are becoming curtailed. To underline it, she reveals that over 7,000 of the world’s languages are on the disappearing list. On Extinction doesn’t have an emphatic conclusion. Rather it is a litany of doctrines, philosophies and technological advances that have sped up the process of humankind’s increasing estrangement from the natural world. This is perhaps best summarised by Challenger’s Karl Marx quote that a world less reliant upon Nature would be bound to wind up earning, working and buying in order to sustain itself, leading ultimately to wholesale servitude to economic pressure alone. Jeremy James is a novelist and is a writer/reviewer for The Welsh Academy. His book The Alchemical Horseman was reviewed in the July/August 2012 issue of Resurgence. 62 Resurgence & Ecologist November/December 2012
page 65
I N MY OWN WORDS  REVIEWS The Beauty in the Beast Hugh Warwick hopes his new book will encourage more people to ‘see’ wildlife more deeply “W e will not fight to save what we do not love.” Finding this quote from Stephen Jay Gould was like a flash of light. I had spent much of the last chapter of my first book, A Prickly Affair, describing that thought – along the way arguing that hedgehogs were the most important creatures on the planet, holding the key to the survival of humanity between their muddy paws. Yes, you are supposed to smile at that – but the argument does hold. And that sentiment is central to my latest book, The Beauty in the Beast. We are exhorted to fight to save the natural world. But as Gould rightly points out, we are not going to engage in this fight without first falling in love. So wildlife and conservation groups attempt to lure us, to seduce us, with images of amazing animals. They rely upon the charismatic megafauna. Lions and tigers, whales and dolphins. But relying on images of these remote, endangered and unobtainable species is like gazing at Heat or Hello magazine and hoping it will solve your relationship problems. You are going to fall in love with the girl or boy next door, not some doomed A-lister. And the hedgehog is the animal equivalent of the girl or boy next door. Of course, it does not stop there. The hedgehog acts as a gatekeeper species; in fact it becomes a lens through which you can more clearly see the beauty and complexity of the wild. Perhaps surprisingly people took issue with my position, claiming that I had ignored their own particular species – and so this became the narrative engine of The Beauty in the Beast. I went to meet 15 people who had a similar relationship to me with Nature. All had at some point in their lives crossed over an invisible line into what some were comfortable as describing as love. My wonderful water-vole woman, Kate Long, remembers clearly her Damascene moment when, at the age of eight, she refused to leave a small bridge over a river from where she had seen her first-ever vole, feeding. Her mother decided not to fight it and left her while she went to do the shopping with the appeal that the child should not fall into the river. Kate realised, later in life, that something far deeper had happened: she had fallen in love. Many scientists I speak to find it hard to utter the word ‘love’ in the context of their work. My fox man talked a lot about his ‘appreciation’ of the beautiful animal. And robin- Truly engaging with wildlife requires more than just looking advocate Andrew Lack skirted neatly around the issue with “Scientists do themselves a disservice if they deny the importance of the unquantifiable.” Throughout The Beauty in the Beast I was looking for evidence that there really were other gatekeeper species out there. And in the end I found what I guess I already knew – that there are as many species as there are people dedicating time to them. Of course I still claim the hedgehog is superior, but I was introduced to dragonflies, sparrows, adders and badgers through the eyes of passionate advocates and learned to see them very differently. The way of viewing the animals was brought home to me by Ivan Wright, the solitary-bee man. We spent time out in the woods as traditional entomologists, with sun hats and butterfly nets, and he taught me to do more than just look: he encouraged me to really see. It was a lesson that came, in some form, from all the people I met. Truly engaging with wildlife requires more than just looking: it insists you commit all your senses to the experience. William Blake’s inspirational exhortation to see a heaven in a wild flower and a world in a grain of sand is the inevitable consequence of this commitment. I hope that The Beauty in the Beast will encourage you to go out and get nose-to-nose with wildlife. Risk falling in love and do not be afraid of seeing more deeply. As I learned from my fox man, it is a mistake to think that things retain their magic better if they aren’t understood. © Liane Paine/Simon & Schuster Art Dept Hugh Warwick’s book The Beauty in the Beast: Britain’s Favourite Creatures and the People Who Love Them is published by Simon & Schuster, ISBN: 9780857203953. Issue 275 Resurgence & Ecologist 63

 REVIEWS

A Ghostly Debris Jeremy James discovers when humanity began exploiting the natural world

On Extinction: How We Became Estranged from Nature Melanie Challenger Granta Books, 2011 ISBN: 9781847081872

Whale-bone arches in Whitby © Whitby Literary and Philosophical Society

The trick with this book is to read the contents page first, then you won’t get lost. It’s divided into three Peregrinations, which take you on three different odysseys, and once you’ve got that you’ll have your compass.

It’s an offbeat read, having a stream-of-consciousness stamp about it, at times being intensely personal and at other times aloof. Melanie Challenger treats us to a galaxy of thinkers who have commented upon humanity’s guardianship or exploitation of the natural world and how that, from time to time, has disposed of itself. Mixing in personal reminiscence – including the presence of an influential grandmother – she intersperses the whole with clunky poetic asides, making it a rounded work on a subject well researched and deeply felt – a diverting contrast to the dry tomes that science so often hurls at us.

Even Francis Bacon thought that the noblest thing humankind can aim for is domination of the universe. She ponders our responses, ethical and emotional, to this.

The second Peregrination finds Challenger in South Georgia, where she gives us Willem Van der Does’ grim prognosis of 1934 that “whales are creatures that are doomed to disappear ... from the earth ... despite all legal measures to prevent it.” Wandering amid the ghostly debris of the former whaling station, she reminds us of the ozone hole and leaps from subject to subject, from the Nazis to the rise of technology, the reason for the interlude being to point out that whale products didn’t just go into brooms, corsets and street lamps: they went into explosives – a neat,

brutal adjunct to her point.

The last Peregrination brings us back to Whitby in Yorkshire and its links with Dracula – a metaphor for humanity’s vampiric predilections – and

We are treated to a galaxy of thinkers

Her first Peregrination begins in Cornwall, with the demise of the tin-mining industry – an industrial extinction. Challenger describes what that collapse did to the community and landscape; and although much was lost, much was gained: wildlife opportunistically inhabited abandoned mines, birds – peregrines and nightjars – and bats reappeared, as did certain species of plants tolerant of copper in topsoil. Recalling a line from Darwin, she points out: “lighten any check, mitigate the destruction ever so little, and the numbers of species will increase to any amount.”

Contrasting this with the collapse of the Cornish fishing industry, which coincided with the depletion of world fish stocks, she offers a quote from George Perkins Marsh: “man is everywhere a disturbing agent ... Wherever he plants his foot, the harmonies of nature are turned to discords.”

She offers a brief discourse on early Greek thought, where the natural world was considered to be for human exploitation, which had dramatic influence on how the natural world was perceived. Cicero’s On the Nature of Gods talks of the superior rights of human beings, suggesting the principle of a world made for human consumption. From Genesis to Aquinas there exists a presumption of Nature for the use and exploitation by humans, in all its hierarchy of life forms, “to all diversify beneath humans as the ordered design of dominion”. She quotes Locke: “subduing or cultivating the earth ... and having dominion we see are joined together.”

the whaling industry. Then we’re off to the Inuit of Canada, the melting snowcap and ice floes, the tragedy of the people, the suicides, alcoholism and loss of place, the destruction of their traditional way of life, and whale hunting for survival as opposed to profit. It’s a bleak picture.

Challenger ends in The Fens, where, surprised by her own lack of knowledge of wild flora, she sets about remedying it and even then notices how restricted the varieties are: even the flora are becoming curtailed. To underline it, she reveals that over 7,000 of the world’s languages are on the disappearing list. On Extinction doesn’t have an emphatic conclusion. Rather it is a litany of doctrines, philosophies and technological advances that have sped up the process of humankind’s increasing estrangement from the natural world. This is perhaps best summarised by Challenger’s Karl Marx quote that a world less reliant upon Nature would be bound to wind up earning, working and buying in order to sustain itself, leading ultimately to wholesale servitude to economic pressure alone.

Jeremy James is a novelist and is a writer/reviewer for The Welsh Academy. His book The Alchemical Horseman was reviewed in the July/August 2012 issue of Resurgence.

62 Resurgence & Ecologist

November/December 2012

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