Summer is a time for relaxing and reading, whether you're lounging by the pool or at the beach, stretched out on a blanket in a grassy park meadow, or sitting on a back patio. Every summer ZooGoer suggests a few books to add to your summer reading list. The lines between fiction and nonfiction continue to blur, so this year, unlike in years past, we haven't limited our recommendations to fiction. Our group includes a "fictionalized" biography and "true crime." Enjoy!
The Voyage of the Narwhal
1998. Andrea Barrett. W.W.
Norton & Company, New York. 399 p.p., hardbound, $24.95.
The
Voyage of the Narwhal follows naturalist Erasmus
Darwin Wells on a mysterious and dangerous exploration
of the Arctic sea. When the Narwhal leaves Philadelphia
in May 1855, its official goal is to find the crew of
a long missing expedition and return before winter sets
in. But in truth, there are as many goals on the Narwhal
as men on board. Erasmus hopes to discover and study
flora and fauna along the way, and to reestablish his
reputation after a disastrous youthful journey at sea.
Zeke Vorhees, the ship's young and handsome commander,
searches for glory. Many of the crew just hope to earn
a living. As the harsh reality of navigating the Arctic
sinks in, success seems less and less likely. What of
the native Esquimaux-are they telling all they know?
Will the Narwhal make it back by summer's end, or will
they have to "winter over?" The Voyage of the Narwhal's
eerie mystery and riveting characters, along with the
ghostly scenery of the Arctic ice fields, will keep
you reading until all the loose ends are tied up.
—Kerry Searle
Mr. Darwin's Shooter.
1998. Roger McDonald. Atlantic
Monthly Press, New York. 365 pp. Hardcover, $25.
Despite
the title of this book, Mr. Darwin's Shooter,
the operative words are not "Mr. Darwin." Indeed, Mr.
Darwin does not debut until the second third of the
book, and he remains a secondary character. The book
is a fictionalized account of the life of Syms Covington,
the real life assistant of Charles Darwin during most
of his 1831 to1836 voyage on the Beagle and for two
and a half years thereafter. Little is known about Covington,
but author Roger McDonald skillfully builds upon the
few known facts to create a vivid and fascinating character,
living during a time characterized by adventure and
exploration, both geographic and scientific.
The novel follows Covington from his childhood—last of several sons of a Bedford, England, butcher, and a devout Congregationalist Christian—through his adventures as a sailor on a series of survey ships. On the Beagle, Covington becomes Darwin's right-hand man. Specializing in birds, he collects, skins, preserves, labels, and stores specimens for Darwin. His duties also include copying Darwin's field notes and ruminations on natural history, so he is privy to his master's evolving thoughts on the matters of creation and evolution. Periodically, McDonald flashes ahead to Covington's future, as he awaits the publication of The Origin of Species and struggles with the role he has played in the development of what Covington perceives to be an heretical work. Today's controversy over evolution versus creationism, as tempestuous as it remains in some locales, is sedate compared to the firestorm that erupted when Charles Darwin's The Origin of Species was first published in 1859.
Although not light summer fare, Mr. Darwin's Shooter
is an excellent read. It's written in the style of it's
19th century setting, and some readers may find that
the often-puzzling regional and period language mires
the story a bit. But, like so many classic 19th century
novels, the richness of characters more than compensates.
—Sue Zwicker
The Evolution of Jane
1998. Cathleen Schine. Houghton
Mifflin Company, New York. 210 pp., clothbound, $24.00.
Recovering
from a divorce, Jane Barlow joins a naturalist tour
of the Galapagos where she meets a friend she suddenly
and inexplicably lost many years earlier. This, she
knew, was the truly important break up in her life,
and questions about its meaning have long haunted her.
Now, on the islands that inspired Charles Darwin's theory
of evolution, Jane explores the concepts of species
and selection, chance and change, as metaphors for friendship
and its loss.
Heavy stuff? Not at all. Cathleen Schine, best known for The Love Letter, writes with wit and charm, and possesses a gift for gleeful metaphor. Try this on for size: "Every couple...think they are somehow starting a new line. A new line. Like dresses with shorter skirts for the spring....Lineage is a little like fashion. A closet full of DNA. Natural selection has to go out tonight! The weather is terrible, a goddamn flood. She'll ruin her shoes! What will she wear? Paws? Claws? No, no, those fabulous sunflower-yellow web feet!"
The Evolution of Jane recounts a voyage of personal
discovery, interwoven with notes about Darwin and his
work, wry observations on the behavior of her fellow
ecotravelers, and fascinating tales of Galapagos wildlife.
Yet, it is as light as the feather of a Darwin's finch.
All in all, just right for the beach.
—Susan Lumpkin
The Orchid Thief
1998. Susan Orlean. Random House,
New York. 284 pp. Hardcover, $25.
The
world is full of eccentrics who suffer from "orchidelirium,"
an overwhelming obsession with those beautiful, colorful
perennials. Orlean guides us through the history of
this obsession, detailing romantic tales of daring Victorian
orchid hunters commissioned by wealthy patrons, as well
as today's $10 billion international market where collectors
sometimes pay as much $25,000 for a rare specimen.
Of course, when passion weds money, the result often brings out the worst in people. We learn that there has been an unscrupulous side to the plant world as long as there have been collectors. For example, during an 1870s collecting expedition in Colombia, four thousand trees were chopped down to gather ten thousand orchids. "Not satisfied with taking 300 or 500 specimens of a fine orchid, [collectors] must scour the whole country and leave nothing for many miles around...These modern collectors spare nothing. This is no longer collecting; it is wanton robbery," lamented one period botanist.
Today, wild orchids are protected under the federal endangered species law, and international trade of wild orchids is restricted under the Convention on International Trade in Endangered Species. Anyone who wants a wild orchid has to steal it from the woods or buy it on the black market.
Enter John Larouche, a self-described "shrewd bastard,"
and ever the schemer. Larouche devised a plan to poach,
clone, and market Polyrrhiza lindenii, a rare
ghost orchid from the Fakahatchee, a 63,000-acre preserve
in southwestern Florida. This species grows nowhere
else in the U.S. and hasn't been successfully propagated
commercially. Using his secret growing technique and
perceived loopholes in endangered species laws, not
only was Larouche convinced he would pull it off, but
that he would make himself rich and famous in the process.
—Robert Moll
