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The Moon by Whale Light and Other Adventures Among Bats, Penguins, Crocodilians and Whales
In a rare blend of scientific fact and poetic truth, the acclaimed author of A Natural History of the Senses explores the activities of whales, penguins, bats, and crocodilians, plunging headlong into nature and coming up with highly entertaining treasures.
249 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 1991
About the author
Diane Ackerman
63 books1,067 followersDiane Ackerman has been the finalist for the Pulitzer Prize for Nonfiction in addition to many other awards and recognitions for her work, which include the bestsellers The Zookeeper’s Wife and A Natural History of the Senses.
The Zookeeper’s Wife, a little known true story of WWII, became a New York Times bestseller, and received the Orion Book Award, which honored it as, "a groundbreaking work of nonfiction." A movie of The Zookeeper’s Wife, starring Jessica Chastain and Daniel Brühl, releases in theaters March 31st, 2017 from Focus Features.
She lives with her husband Paul West in Ithaca, New York.
The Zookeeper’s Wife, a little known true story of WWII, became a New York Times bestseller, and received the Orion Book Award, which honored it as, "a groundbreaking work of nonfiction." A movie of The Zookeeper’s Wife, starring Jessica Chastain and Daniel Brühl, releases in theaters March 31st, 2017 from Focus Features.
She lives with her husband Paul West in Ithaca, New York.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 123 reviews
December 15, 2014
This book had been on my reading list for a while, ever since I read The Rarest of the Rare: Vanishing Animals, Timeless Worlds, which I loved. I finally got a hold of it through my library's inter-library exchange. (I love my library!)
The book has 4 main sections focusing on 4 different animals: bats, crocodilians (alligators and crocodiles), whales, and penguins. I was really looking forward to the whale chapter, especially since part of it took place in Hawaii - and I really enjoyed it. But the surprise for me was the bat chapter. It was really informative and interesting, and I learned a lot.
The one thing that's missing, which I think I mentioned in Rarest of the Rare as well, is photography. I'm not sure if she just never takes photos on her expeditions, but I really wish I could see some of the stuff she saw.
Because to be honest, and I thought this throughout much of the book - I don't think I'll/we'll ever again see the scenes that Ackerman was lucky enough to experience. Just the sheer number of animals, often in rural or uninhabited places. I think that experience is gone, depressingly. For example, during the bats chapter, in my notes I wrote: 20 million bats all in one location? That would be quite a sight to see though I imagine you can't find something like that anymore. That makes me really sad.
Even during the 80s, when Ackerman did most of the travel presented in the book, Merlin Tuttle, ecologist and bat researcher, says, "I personally know of caves where people have wiped out millions of bats in one day." Sigh. That being said, Dr. Tuttle is such an awesome scientist. And his words really resonated with me. A couple of choice quotes from him:
I loved Ackerman's enthusiasm, which is always present in her books: "But a carnival of bats inhabits the world!"
And her writing is so lyrical and expressive. She paints a picture of the world for you that I really love:
I didn't gather any quotes from the whale chapter, maybe because I was engrossed. But I really enjoyed reading about the right whales in Patagonia. That was amazing - I wonder if they are still there? Further research is required! I love books that get me excited to find out more.
Each chapter reads like a short book which I really liked. As each ended I would take a few minutes to pause and soak it in.
The one thing that was a bit odd to me were the sections in the crocodilian and penguins chapters that focused on the non-wild places: namely, the alligator parks/farms and Sea World. I guess these were the best places to see those animals at the time? I know it's a can of worms, but that was off to me, because they weren't exactly zoos so it wasn't for conservation per se. Also it was the 80s so I don't know how the sentiment towards places like these was at the time. It was kind of weird to me that she chose to end the book - or technically the penguin essay, since I just said each chapter was like a short book - focusing on the baby penguin at Sea World who, while it would never see the wild place that its parents and family came from, would always be safe because it was in captivity. That just didn't sit well with me.
Other than that gripe, yes, I'm totally jealous of all these adventures in which she's been able to participate - it's all a bunch of stuff I will never get to see, or at least not in the same way she has, what with the declines in wildlife and wild places. At least I get to read about it in these wonderful books. If Ackerman comes out with any more animal-related books, I'm there!
A couple more of my favorite quotes:
The book has 4 main sections focusing on 4 different animals: bats, crocodilians (alligators and crocodiles), whales, and penguins. I was really looking forward to the whale chapter, especially since part of it took place in Hawaii - and I really enjoyed it. But the surprise for me was the bat chapter. It was really informative and interesting, and I learned a lot.
The one thing that's missing, which I think I mentioned in Rarest of the Rare as well, is photography. I'm not sure if she just never takes photos on her expeditions, but I really wish I could see some of the stuff she saw.
Because to be honest, and I thought this throughout much of the book - I don't think I'll/we'll ever again see the scenes that Ackerman was lucky enough to experience. Just the sheer number of animals, often in rural or uninhabited places. I think that experience is gone, depressingly. For example, during the bats chapter, in my notes I wrote: 20 million bats all in one location? That would be quite a sight to see though I imagine you can't find something like that anymore. That makes me really sad.
Even during the 80s, when Ackerman did most of the travel presented in the book, Merlin Tuttle, ecologist and bat researcher, says, "I personally know of caves where people have wiped out millions of bats in one day." Sigh. That being said, Dr. Tuttle is such an awesome scientist. And his words really resonated with me. A couple of choice quotes from him:
"I never had any ambition to be anything but a good scientist. I was content to be a member of other conservation organizations and support their efforts. But for years the traditional organizations just ignored bats as too hopeless. If you couldn't raise money for an animal, it couldn't be helped. That's unfortunate. Part of our problems today come from the fact that even scientists and conservationists tend to take the easy ride and find an animal that's very popular with the public. They raise funds to help that animal, but often that's so easy and tempting that other animals that are just as valuable, and sometimes much *more* valuable, remain completely ignored." (p44)One thing I really liked was reading about these scientists and researchers that Ackerman presented. I kept interrupting myself while reading to look up the names, and added books and articles to my reading lists. It was really informative. When I googled Dr. Tuttle, I found his Facebook page and did a bit of stalking. It's amazing the access the Internet has given us. Even just 10 years ago I wouldn't have been able to do this!
"It's a shame that people want to view animals as either good or bad. But as Emerson pointed out, a weed is just a flower out of place." (p44)
"But this is often the case when it comes to animals – by the time you eliminate them down to the point when everyone can agree that the species is officially endangered, it's already too late." (p47)
I loved Ackerman's enthusiasm, which is always present in her books: "But a carnival of bats inhabits the world!"
And her writing is so lyrical and expressive. She paints a picture of the world for you that I really love:
There was nothing to do but wait. It is always like this for naturalists, and for poets - the long hours of travel and preparation, and then the longer hours of waiting. All for that one electric, pulse–revving vision when the universe suddenly declares itself. A ravishing tug on the sleeve of our mortality. A view of life so astonishing as to make all of life newly astonishing: a spotted bat. (p33)I loved her description of the past: "the pious fiction we call history." (p141)
On each side, sandstone cliffs, striped like sherbet, revealed layer after compressed layer of time. How can time be so rigid in rock and so molten as we live it? Underfoot, sheets of rock swirled red, yellow, white, blue. Life blooms in such unlikely places: tufts of grass jutting out from a rock; slabs of cactus sprouting from sheer cliffside high above us, where you'd think no dirt could have settled. (p51)
I didn't gather any quotes from the whale chapter, maybe because I was engrossed. But I really enjoyed reading about the right whales in Patagonia. That was amazing - I wonder if they are still there? Further research is required! I love books that get me excited to find out more.
Each chapter reads like a short book which I really liked. As each ended I would take a few minutes to pause and soak it in.
The one thing that was a bit odd to me were the sections in the crocodilian and penguins chapters that focused on the non-wild places: namely, the alligator parks/farms and Sea World. I guess these were the best places to see those animals at the time? I know it's a can of worms, but that was off to me, because they weren't exactly zoos so it wasn't for conservation per se. Also it was the 80s so I don't know how the sentiment towards places like these was at the time. It was kind of weird to me that she chose to end the book - or technically the penguin essay, since I just said each chapter was like a short book - focusing on the baby penguin at Sea World who, while it would never see the wild place that its parents and family came from, would always be safe because it was in captivity. That just didn't sit well with me.
Other than that gripe, yes, I'm totally jealous of all these adventures in which she's been able to participate - it's all a bunch of stuff I will never get to see, or at least not in the same way she has, what with the declines in wildlife and wild places. At least I get to read about it in these wonderful books. If Ackerman comes out with any more animal-related books, I'm there!
A couple more of my favorite quotes:
Kent Vliet, biologist, crocodilian researcher: "You see, their whole philosophy is that a wild animal is being wasted if it has economic potential that isn't being used. That's a rather mercenary way to think about wild animals." (p93)Ackerman:
Vliet: "Alligators are big crocodilians, but they're shy and retiring, very passive creatures, even the largest males. Crocodiles, on the other hand, are agile and mean and fast, superpredators that consider humans prey items. Alligators just aren't like that. They're real pussycats." (p95)
Roger Payne, biologist, whale researcher: "I had a grandfather, a lumberman, who cut nothing but walnut trees, sometimes for whole years at a time, and that excess on his part, and on the part of his contemporaries, ensured that I would never have walnut except as the most exotic of woods. He was shortsighted. Was anyone warning him? I bet there was. Going on with the destruction of a species until it's brought to the point of extinction is madness - not just a little mad or slightly mad. It's authentic madness." (p163)
As far as I could see in any direction, icebergs meandered against a backdrop of tall, crumbly Antarctic glaciers, which were still pure and unexplored. Human feet had not touched the glaciers I saw; nor had many pairs of eyes beheld them. In many ways, the Antarctic is a world of suspended animation. Suspended between outer space and the fertile continents. Suspended in time - without a local civilization to make history. Civilization has been brought to it; it has never sustained any of its own. It sits suspended in a hanging nest of world politics. When things die in the Antarctic, they decay slowly. What has been is still there and will always be, unless we interfere. (p209)
"Tenacity," I said, thinking out loud - and not meaning the macaroni penguin's tenacity, exactly, but life's. Life hangs on in such out-of-the-way places, pushes on with such ingenuity and bravado. Turning over a mother-of-pearl-lined limpet shell on Elephant Island a few days earlier, I had seen a hundred squirming wingless flies. Life just seemed to keep reinventing itself - inside a limpet shell, or hundreds of feet up on a rocky cliff above a roaring ocean. (p336)
December 13, 2009
Another beautiful book of writings by Diane Ackerman. Her writing style is so lyrical and her descriptions are so vivid - reading her work is like biting into the juiciest of fruits. This particular collection highlights bats, crocodiles, penguins, and whales. Ackerman spends time with these animals, learning about their biology and psychology, talks with their keepers, trainers, and researchers.
While all of them were wonderful, the chapters on bats and crocodiles were my favorites of all - perhaps because I knew the least about these two creatures. The bat essay, in particular, sent me to my computer many times to see images and photos of these amazing animals. Just days after reading this essay, I had the experience of being in the open desert (Joshua Tree National Park in southern California) and witnessed the Mexican Free-Tailed bats coming out to feed at dusk... just me, my husband, and these beautiful bats. It was amazing, and is something that will stay with me for a long time. I am sure that I would have been amazed by this sight even if I had not read the book, but the experience was all the more enhanced by the knowledge I gained from this collection.
This is a book I will return to, I am sure, to remember these paragraphs filled to the brim with facts and stories... and will fall in love with the writing each and every time!
While all of them were wonderful, the chapters on bats and crocodiles were my favorites of all - perhaps because I knew the least about these two creatures. The bat essay, in particular, sent me to my computer many times to see images and photos of these amazing animals. Just days after reading this essay, I had the experience of being in the open desert (Joshua Tree National Park in southern California) and witnessed the Mexican Free-Tailed bats coming out to feed at dusk... just me, my husband, and these beautiful bats. It was amazing, and is something that will stay with me for a long time. I am sure that I would have been amazed by this sight even if I had not read the book, but the experience was all the more enhanced by the knowledge I gained from this collection.
This is a book I will return to, I am sure, to remember these paragraphs filled to the brim with facts and stories... and will fall in love with the writing each and every time!
March 12, 2019
An essay about bats followed by an essay about alligators followed by an essay about whales followed by an essay about penguins. It's like this book was written just for me (and anyone else super into bats, alligators, whales, and penguins; if that's you, hi; let's be friends!).
I was so smitten with this book that I wrote notes all over it and savored it for over a month. I would (and have and will continue to) read 100 more books just like this one. (Also, it was fun to randomly run into the same zany bat scientist heavily featured in the first essay in Paul Bogard's The End of Night, which was published 17 years after this book.)
There's no denying it's dated in places (being first published in 1996), so some of the data likely isn't even close to accurate anymore, and it's impossible to read naturalist books without highlighting the huge and undeniable role humans have played in destabilizing entire ecosystems and nearly (or successfully) eradicating entire species. Ackerman doesn't ignore human impact in her essays, but there was certainly a lot more hope (and more time) to conserve these species (and fragile ecosystems) back when she was first writing this book than there is now.
[Five stars for so much naturalist magic, beautifully vivid passages, and for being a wonderful, albeit belated introduction to Ackerman.]
I was so smitten with this book that I wrote notes all over it and savored it for over a month. I would (and have and will continue to) read 100 more books just like this one. (Also, it was fun to randomly run into the same zany bat scientist heavily featured in the first essay in Paul Bogard's The End of Night, which was published 17 years after this book.)
There's no denying it's dated in places (being first published in 1996), so some of the data likely isn't even close to accurate anymore, and it's impossible to read naturalist books without highlighting the huge and undeniable role humans have played in destabilizing entire ecosystems and nearly (or successfully) eradicating entire species. Ackerman doesn't ignore human impact in her essays, but there was certainly a lot more hope (and more time) to conserve these species (and fragile ecosystems) back when she was first writing this book than there is now.
[Five stars for so much naturalist magic, beautifully vivid passages, and for being a wonderful, albeit belated introduction to Ackerman.]
October 24, 2021
Maybe Ackerman initially thought she could get four full books out of these four animals, but after doing the research, the information and stories she had compiled just didn't add up to much, so she just put them together in this one book instead.
Each chapter is interesting by itself, but Ackerman missed an opportunity to bring it all together - there is no connection made among the animals. Once she finishes telling us about bats, she forgets them and moves on to the next thing. There's not even an epilogue!
But the - let's call them vignettes - are all interesting by themselves, so four stars for each of the books they would have been.
Each chapter is interesting by itself, but Ackerman missed an opportunity to bring it all together - there is no connection made among the animals. Once she finishes telling us about bats, she forgets them and moves on to the next thing. There's not even an epilogue!
But the - let's call them vignettes - are all interesting by themselves, so four stars for each of the books they would have been.
January 23, 2011
She tries to make everything sound beautiful and poignant, but at some point I just start to get annoyed.
February 19, 2017
This book is an appealing, attractively packaged collection of four essays on animal behavior, all of which originally appeared in the New Yorker. While the subject matter is interesting and entertaining, reading this book can be even more educational if attention is paid to what it reveals about current perceptions of scientists and issues of "animal rights" in the general media.
Ackerman sets herself up as a myth debunker, and does a good job where nature is concerned. When describing bats or icebergs, she shows both a sense of humor: "We don't get excited about the fact that more people die of food poisoning at church picnics annually than have died in all history from contact with bats," and a sense of wonder: "One day the water was so smooth that you could use it as a mirror, and four hours later the wind was howling at ninety knots. And was as beautiful at ninety knots as when crystal-calm. Huge ice caverns formed arches of pastel ice. Glare had so many moods that it seemed another pure color. The mountains, glaciers, and fjords bulged and rolled through endless displays of inter-flowing shapes. The continent kept turning its shimmery hips, and jutting up hard pinnacles of ice, in a sensuality of rolling, sifting, cascading landscapes. There was such a liquefaction to its limbs. And yet it could also be blindingly abstract, harrowing and remote, the closest thing to being on another planet, so far from human life that its desolation and iciness made you want to do impetuous, life-affirming things . . . "
It is when Ackerman describes the humans that she gets into trouble. All of the scientists she profiles in detail, including a bat photographer, an alligator farmer, and an expert on whales, come across as miniature Indiana Jonses: driven loners who regularly risk life and limb for the sake of adventure and the glimpse of their favorite animal. The author's sympathies lie with this macho stereotype of a scientist (according to her introduction, she herself is addicted to this type of behavior, which she refers to as "deep play"), yet at the same time, the first couple of essays are marred by a constant comparison of animals and humans, where the humans are always found wanting (unless the humans are also "exotic" in some way to her).
For example, in her description of bat houses, she begins with ". . . they look nothing like birdhouses. For one thing, they don't have cutesy roofs a la Swiss chalets. I don't know why, or when, people decided that birds preferred to live in humanesque houses shaped like Victorian mansions, red barns, Kon-Tiki huts, alpine ski lodges, or kelly-green shacks in the Black Forest. Just because desperate birds do lie in them doesn't mean they like them or don't feel as silly as some houses look . . . An official bat house is squarish, made of red cedar, and reminiscent of an old-fashioned mailbox hanging on someone's door. On the front is an abstract drawing of the Chinese wu fu, a decorative emblem worn as a medallion or as a coin or as a panel on a robe. The wu fu shows the Tree of Life encircled by five bats whose wingtips touch or sometimes interlock." Her reasoning here is mysterious at best. Apparently, in her opinion, certain types of decoration (here, Western/European) are bad and make the animals "feel silly," but other types of decoration (here, East Asian) are good and appropriate. If Ackerman ever asked the birds' or the bats' opinion on the Swiss chalet or the wu fu, it is not documented in this book. Instead, she seems to be using the animals as an excuse to tell the reader which cultural icons she thinks are better.
The motive for the following observation (mentioned twice in two different essays) is even more difficult to puzzle out: "Perhaps they would find it strange, as I do, that we feed on dismembered animals no longer resembling what they are; and yet, paradoxically, we insist on cooking them to the warmth of fresh prey." In spite of her reference to food poisoning at church picnics, it is not clear here if Ackerman has an understanding of the phenomenon, or of the role of cooking in preventing it.
Her refrain of "in contrast with humans, who can only do X, animals can do Y" is taken to an extreme in the essay on whales: "A human male cannot voluntarily move his penis by more than a few millimeters, but a right whale can move his all around like a long finger." This device of human/animal contrasts is presumably meant to make the wonders of nature somehow more accessible while still giving the reader a sense of the alienness of other species, yet it is used so frequently that it becomes irritating human-bashing.
This book thereby restricts its sympathetic audience to those who already agree with it, and ends up preaching to the converted. This is unfortunate, because in other sections the book contains some powerful scientific and emotional arguments for preserving endangered species (even unpopular ones, like bats), and these arguments deserve to be widely read. And the last chapter (which, from the chronology in the introduction, also seems to be the last one written) is largely free of these intrusive value judgements (she even admits that getting developing countries to preserve their natural resources in the face of massive poverty is a "complicated issue"). When Ackerman leaves off moralizing and lets the landscape speak for itself, she is capable of beautiful prose. It makes you want to go out and sign up for an Antarctic cruise yourself.
Ackerman sets herself up as a myth debunker, and does a good job where nature is concerned. When describing bats or icebergs, she shows both a sense of humor: "We don't get excited about the fact that more people die of food poisoning at church picnics annually than have died in all history from contact with bats," and a sense of wonder: "One day the water was so smooth that you could use it as a mirror, and four hours later the wind was howling at ninety knots. And was as beautiful at ninety knots as when crystal-calm. Huge ice caverns formed arches of pastel ice. Glare had so many moods that it seemed another pure color. The mountains, glaciers, and fjords bulged and rolled through endless displays of inter-flowing shapes. The continent kept turning its shimmery hips, and jutting up hard pinnacles of ice, in a sensuality of rolling, sifting, cascading landscapes. There was such a liquefaction to its limbs. And yet it could also be blindingly abstract, harrowing and remote, the closest thing to being on another planet, so far from human life that its desolation and iciness made you want to do impetuous, life-affirming things . . . "
It is when Ackerman describes the humans that she gets into trouble. All of the scientists she profiles in detail, including a bat photographer, an alligator farmer, and an expert on whales, come across as miniature Indiana Jonses: driven loners who regularly risk life and limb for the sake of adventure and the glimpse of their favorite animal. The author's sympathies lie with this macho stereotype of a scientist (according to her introduction, she herself is addicted to this type of behavior, which she refers to as "deep play"), yet at the same time, the first couple of essays are marred by a constant comparison of animals and humans, where the humans are always found wanting (unless the humans are also "exotic" in some way to her).
For example, in her description of bat houses, she begins with ". . . they look nothing like birdhouses. For one thing, they don't have cutesy roofs a la Swiss chalets. I don't know why, or when, people decided that birds preferred to live in humanesque houses shaped like Victorian mansions, red barns, Kon-Tiki huts, alpine ski lodges, or kelly-green shacks in the Black Forest. Just because desperate birds do lie in them doesn't mean they like them or don't feel as silly as some houses look . . . An official bat house is squarish, made of red cedar, and reminiscent of an old-fashioned mailbox hanging on someone's door. On the front is an abstract drawing of the Chinese wu fu, a decorative emblem worn as a medallion or as a coin or as a panel on a robe. The wu fu shows the Tree of Life encircled by five bats whose wingtips touch or sometimes interlock." Her reasoning here is mysterious at best. Apparently, in her opinion, certain types of decoration (here, Western/European) are bad and make the animals "feel silly," but other types of decoration (here, East Asian) are good and appropriate. If Ackerman ever asked the birds' or the bats' opinion on the Swiss chalet or the wu fu, it is not documented in this book. Instead, she seems to be using the animals as an excuse to tell the reader which cultural icons she thinks are better.
The motive for the following observation (mentioned twice in two different essays) is even more difficult to puzzle out: "Perhaps they would find it strange, as I do, that we feed on dismembered animals no longer resembling what they are; and yet, paradoxically, we insist on cooking them to the warmth of fresh prey." In spite of her reference to food poisoning at church picnics, it is not clear here if Ackerman has an understanding of the phenomenon, or of the role of cooking in preventing it.
Her refrain of "in contrast with humans, who can only do X, animals can do Y" is taken to an extreme in the essay on whales: "A human male cannot voluntarily move his penis by more than a few millimeters, but a right whale can move his all around like a long finger." This device of human/animal contrasts is presumably meant to make the wonders of nature somehow more accessible while still giving the reader a sense of the alienness of other species, yet it is used so frequently that it becomes irritating human-bashing.
This book thereby restricts its sympathetic audience to those who already agree with it, and ends up preaching to the converted. This is unfortunate, because in other sections the book contains some powerful scientific and emotional arguments for preserving endangered species (even unpopular ones, like bats), and these arguments deserve to be widely read. And the last chapter (which, from the chronology in the introduction, also seems to be the last one written) is largely free of these intrusive value judgements (she even admits that getting developing countries to preserve their natural resources in the face of massive poverty is a "complicated issue"). When Ackerman leaves off moralizing and lets the landscape speak for itself, she is capable of beautiful prose. It makes you want to go out and sign up for an Antarctic cruise yourself.
October 4, 2018
Ackerman is a lovely writer. Even when she doesn't talk about the animals as much as the researchers (e.g. the whales chapter), still interesting!
May 22, 2021
Beautifully written, fascinating book consisting of four long essays, each about a different type of animal (bats, crocodiles, whales, penguins). Ackerman is not a scientist, but rather a writer fascinated with natural history and the people who study it. She takes the reader along on her own voyage of discovery, as she learns about each type of animal and joins researchers in their investigations. I particularly enjoyed the whale and penguin chapters because I love both types of animals, but the bat chapter was fascinating as well. You'll never look at a bat the same way after reading this book—if only more people would do so, public attitudes towards these animals would surely change for the better. The crocodile chapter was also interesting, but probably the least compelling for me.
This book was published 25 years ago, but it remains relevant and only rarely felt dated. Sometimes I felt the sections where Ackerman is directly quoting researchers got a bit too long—everything they had to say was interesting, but I would have like the long chunks to be broken up a bit more occasionally.
Overall, it is the kind of book I would love to write myself. What a wonderful thing it would be to do what Ackerman does, to explore the wonders of nature and the fascinating people whose passion it is to try to understand and protect it. I'm feeling inspired to try to make it happen.
This book was published 25 years ago, but it remains relevant and only rarely felt dated. Sometimes I felt the sections where Ackerman is directly quoting researchers got a bit too long—everything they had to say was interesting, but I would have like the long chunks to be broken up a bit more occasionally.
Overall, it is the kind of book I would love to write myself. What a wonderful thing it would be to do what Ackerman does, to explore the wonders of nature and the fascinating people whose passion it is to try to understand and protect it. I'm feeling inspired to try to make it happen.
August 28, 2019
Diane Ackerman may be the best non-fiction nature writer of our time. She embarks on adventures far, deep and wide to dive into the wild and come back with delicious words that attempt to convey what she has seen and experienced. This is a book that will remain on my bookshelf forever, ear marked from beginning to end for its revelations and beautiful descriptions. She doesn't just report from the field, she learns and then shares her lessons with us. One example:
"The lesson whales teach us is that you can have a brain of great complexity that doesn't result in the death of the planet. And also that we shouldn't necessarily admire intelligence for its own sake."
To me, learning about animals in nature offers a way of understanding how connected we all are, that loneliness is the greatest and most dangerous illusion of our time. To get back to a sense of connection, we simply have to go out and observe. We need to be willing to not be the center of the picture but instead to be fascinated with all that is working so seamlessly around us without our interference. The danger in reading Dianne Ackerman is that you may be tempted to drop your life and go live in the woods somewhere, or on the ocean, or in a cave.
"The lesson whales teach us is that you can have a brain of great complexity that doesn't result in the death of the planet. And also that we shouldn't necessarily admire intelligence for its own sake."
To me, learning about animals in nature offers a way of understanding how connected we all are, that loneliness is the greatest and most dangerous illusion of our time. To get back to a sense of connection, we simply have to go out and observe. We need to be willing to not be the center of the picture but instead to be fascinated with all that is working so seamlessly around us without our interference. The danger in reading Dianne Ackerman is that you may be tempted to drop your life and go live in the woods somewhere, or on the ocean, or in a cave.
February 7, 2024
Great read! I’ve always liked nature writing, and this is some of the best I’ve found so far. In the introduction Ackerman describes it as curious that we feel as though we can view ourselves as separate from nature. Overall, however, she feels like nature writing is a “dignified label,” “a devotion to keenly observed detail, and a sense of sacredness.” She feels that “there is a way of beholding nature that is itself a form of prayer.” I agree! And in this book, she does just that. There were so many interesting facts about all the different types of bats, crocodilians, whales, and penguins that my copy of this book is totally earmarked and underlined- too many to list here. But here are a few:
Vampire bats attack cattle.
“Crocodilians are a hundred times older than human beings, older than dinosaurs, older than flowers, even older than the continent of Africa.” (101)
“These days, the oceans are polluted by human sounds. But in the tens of millions of years before the advent of ships (during which about 99.9 percent of the evolution of blue whales took place), whale sounds might have traveled out to distances of several thousand miles, so that two whales could have sat on opposite sides of the same ocean and been in contact with each other.” (118)
The ocean floor includes some of the tallest mountain ranges on earth.
Humpbacks have been singing longer than human being have existed. The songs are continuous, repetitive, rhyming, sometimes set to the rhythm and the currents in the oceans. Some people respond by weeping.
Ackerman believes penguins to be the most anthropomorphised of all the animals (they are once usually 5 feet tall!). They do indeed fly!- just underwater.
She had this to say about the Antarctic: “…the closest thing to being on another planet, so far from human life that it’s desolation and iciness made you want to do impetuous, life-affirming things: commit acts of love, skip Zodiacs at reckless speeds over the bays, touch voices with a loved one by way of satellite, work out in the gym on thrones of steel until your muscles quit, drink all night, be passionate and daring, renew the outlines of your humanity.” (234)
I loved this quote from Ackerman: “one of the things I like best about animals in the wild is that they’re always off on some errand. They have appointments to keep. It’s only we humans who wonder what we are here for.” (41-43)
Another quote I liked in her thinking an
Bout penguin tenacity: “Life hangs on in such out-of-the-way places, pushes on with such ingenuity and bravado. Turning over a mother-of-Pearl limpet shell on Elephant island a few days earlier, I had seen a hundred squirming wingless flies. Life just seemed to be reinventing itself- inside a limpet shell, or hundreds of feet up a rocky cliff above a roaring ocean.” (236-237)
When relaying to the reader how the oceans are endangered (this book was written in 1991), Ackerman went on to quote a scientist named Roger: “We may be the biggest flop that ever came on earth. People often wonder just how intelligent whales are. But I could argue that there is no intelligent life on earth, that all we do with our brains is commit a series of the greatest mistakes….that the human brain is the most unsuccessful adaptation ever to appear in the history of life on earth. Neanderthal man only lasted for maybe seventy-five thousand years. We have lasted about a fifth of that time; what are the chances that we’ll last another fifty thousand years? Whales have an important lesson to teach us. Whales have a large and complex brain but show no signs of threatening their own destruction. They haven’t reproduced themselves into oblivion, they haven’t destroyed the resources on which they depend, they haven’t generated giant holes in the ozone, or increased the earth’s temperature so that we may end up with the greenhouse effect. The lesson whales teach us is that you can have a brain of great complexity that doesn’t result in the death of the planet. And also that we shouldn’t necessarily admire intelligence for its own sake. Most of what we will have to use our clever brain for in the next few hundred or thousand years, if we live that long, is undoing the effects of what we used our brains for in the last few hundred or thousand years- cleaning up the environment, for instance. One insult to the brain of a whale is to call it intelligent in the same way ours is. Intelligence may not be something we wish we could foist off on some other species like a whale. What we call intelligence may be only a kind of vandalism, just mischief on a grand scale. It might not be the only form mind can take, and it might have little to do with real wisdom.” (144)
I loved all the rugged, funny, zesty scientists that Ackerman works alongside while writing this book. So much insight from all of them about nature, climate change, the lives of animals, and the human condition.
In response to the question, do whales and dolphins have minds of the sort that would be familiar to us?; Ackerman said this: “after all, mind is such an odd predicament for matter to get into. I often marveled at how something like hydrogen, the simplest atom, forged into some early chaos of the universe, could lead to us and the gorgeous fever we call consciousness. If a mind is just a few pounds of blood, dream, and electric, how does it manage to contemplate itself, worry about its soul, do time-and-motion studies, admire the shy hooves of a goat, know that it will die, enjoy all the grand and lesser mayhems of the heart? What is mind, that one can be out of one’s? How can a neuron feel compassion? What is a self? Why did automatic, hand me down mammals like our ancestors somehow evolve with brains that consider, imagine, project, compare, abstract, think of the future? If our experience of mind is really just the simmering of an easily alterable chemical stew, then what does it mean to know something, to want something to be? How do you begin with hydrogen and end up with prom dresses, jealousy, chamber music? What is music that can satisfy such a mind, and even perhaps function as a language?…” (131)
A lot for me (and Radar) to think about! She is a rich, poetic, fascinating writer. I’d like to read more of her books.
Vampire bats attack cattle.
“Crocodilians are a hundred times older than human beings, older than dinosaurs, older than flowers, even older than the continent of Africa.” (101)
“These days, the oceans are polluted by human sounds. But in the tens of millions of years before the advent of ships (during which about 99.9 percent of the evolution of blue whales took place), whale sounds might have traveled out to distances of several thousand miles, so that two whales could have sat on opposite sides of the same ocean and been in contact with each other.” (118)
The ocean floor includes some of the tallest mountain ranges on earth.
Humpbacks have been singing longer than human being have existed. The songs are continuous, repetitive, rhyming, sometimes set to the rhythm and the currents in the oceans. Some people respond by weeping.
Ackerman believes penguins to be the most anthropomorphised of all the animals (they are once usually 5 feet tall!). They do indeed fly!- just underwater.
She had this to say about the Antarctic: “…the closest thing to being on another planet, so far from human life that it’s desolation and iciness made you want to do impetuous, life-affirming things: commit acts of love, skip Zodiacs at reckless speeds over the bays, touch voices with a loved one by way of satellite, work out in the gym on thrones of steel until your muscles quit, drink all night, be passionate and daring, renew the outlines of your humanity.” (234)
I loved this quote from Ackerman: “one of the things I like best about animals in the wild is that they’re always off on some errand. They have appointments to keep. It’s only we humans who wonder what we are here for.” (41-43)
Another quote I liked in her thinking an
Bout penguin tenacity: “Life hangs on in such out-of-the-way places, pushes on with such ingenuity and bravado. Turning over a mother-of-Pearl limpet shell on Elephant island a few days earlier, I had seen a hundred squirming wingless flies. Life just seemed to be reinventing itself- inside a limpet shell, or hundreds of feet up a rocky cliff above a roaring ocean.” (236-237)
When relaying to the reader how the oceans are endangered (this book was written in 1991), Ackerman went on to quote a scientist named Roger: “We may be the biggest flop that ever came on earth. People often wonder just how intelligent whales are. But I could argue that there is no intelligent life on earth, that all we do with our brains is commit a series of the greatest mistakes….that the human brain is the most unsuccessful adaptation ever to appear in the history of life on earth. Neanderthal man only lasted for maybe seventy-five thousand years. We have lasted about a fifth of that time; what are the chances that we’ll last another fifty thousand years? Whales have an important lesson to teach us. Whales have a large and complex brain but show no signs of threatening their own destruction. They haven’t reproduced themselves into oblivion, they haven’t destroyed the resources on which they depend, they haven’t generated giant holes in the ozone, or increased the earth’s temperature so that we may end up with the greenhouse effect. The lesson whales teach us is that you can have a brain of great complexity that doesn’t result in the death of the planet. And also that we shouldn’t necessarily admire intelligence for its own sake. Most of what we will have to use our clever brain for in the next few hundred or thousand years, if we live that long, is undoing the effects of what we used our brains for in the last few hundred or thousand years- cleaning up the environment, for instance. One insult to the brain of a whale is to call it intelligent in the same way ours is. Intelligence may not be something we wish we could foist off on some other species like a whale. What we call intelligence may be only a kind of vandalism, just mischief on a grand scale. It might not be the only form mind can take, and it might have little to do with real wisdom.” (144)
I loved all the rugged, funny, zesty scientists that Ackerman works alongside while writing this book. So much insight from all of them about nature, climate change, the lives of animals, and the human condition.
In response to the question, do whales and dolphins have minds of the sort that would be familiar to us?; Ackerman said this: “after all, mind is such an odd predicament for matter to get into. I often marveled at how something like hydrogen, the simplest atom, forged into some early chaos of the universe, could lead to us and the gorgeous fever we call consciousness. If a mind is just a few pounds of blood, dream, and electric, how does it manage to contemplate itself, worry about its soul, do time-and-motion studies, admire the shy hooves of a goat, know that it will die, enjoy all the grand and lesser mayhems of the heart? What is mind, that one can be out of one’s? How can a neuron feel compassion? What is a self? Why did automatic, hand me down mammals like our ancestors somehow evolve with brains that consider, imagine, project, compare, abstract, think of the future? If our experience of mind is really just the simmering of an easily alterable chemical stew, then what does it mean to know something, to want something to be? How do you begin with hydrogen and end up with prom dresses, jealousy, chamber music? What is music that can satisfy such a mind, and even perhaps function as a language?…” (131)
A lot for me (and Radar) to think about! She is a rich, poetic, fascinating writer. I’d like to read more of her books.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
March 25, 2008
My favorite essay was the one about whales. (She also writes about bats, alligators and penguins.) In the first part of it, she wonders about the size of whale brains and what they might do with the largest brain on earth.
"After all, mind is such an odd predicament for matter to get into. I often marvel how something like hydrogen, the simplest atom, forged in some early chaos of the universe, could lead to us and the gorgeous fever we call consciousness. If a mind is just a few pounds of blood, dream, and electric, how does it manage to contemplate itself, worry about its soul, do time-and-motion studies, admire the shy hooves of a goat, know that it will die, enjoy all the grand and lesser mayhems of the heart?" p. 131
"After all, mind is such an odd predicament for matter to get into. I often marvel how something like hydrogen, the simplest atom, forged in some early chaos of the universe, could lead to us and the gorgeous fever we call consciousness. If a mind is just a few pounds of blood, dream, and electric, how does it manage to contemplate itself, worry about its soul, do time-and-motion studies, admire the shy hooves of a goat, know that it will die, enjoy all the grand and lesser mayhems of the heart?" p. 131
September 12, 2010
I really loved this book. It is filled with beautiful descriptions of Ackerman's experiences learning about four different types of animals: bats, crocodilians, whales and penguins. In each chapter I learned unexpected things about the animals, and experienced Ackerman's wonder at the beauty and uniqueness of each animal group. Seriously, I cannot say enough good things about this book. Ackerman perfectly captures that feeling of awe and wonder experienced when observing nature working so perfectly. I recommend this to anyone interested in animal behavior or nature writing.
Read
August 29, 2011I'm pretty sure this is not the edition I read.
I encountered the essay on bats from this book in serial form in the New Yorker. I was more captivated by the description of the bats (and of Bat Conservation International's Merlin Tuttle) than by the other esssays in this book--but I did like the other essays. I was interested enough in Ackerman's work that I got another book by her--but I had difficulty getting through that, so I didn't pursue her work further.
Still, I'd recommend this book, if you're generally interested in animals.
I encountered the essay on bats from this book in serial form in the New Yorker. I was more captivated by the description of the bats (and of Bat Conservation International's Merlin Tuttle) than by the other esssays in this book--but I did like the other essays. I was interested enough in Ackerman's work that I got another book by her--but I had difficulty getting through that, so I didn't pursue her work further.
Still, I'd recommend this book, if you're generally interested in animals.
August 20, 2012
Loved it, especially the chapter on bats. Like many other reviews, I would have loved to see some pictures and maps. However, I did go to the Internet to look up Bat Conservation International and am seriously considering putting a bat house in my yard. I'm also recommending this book for people I know who are freaked out by bats. Some of the traveling the author did that led to this material happened over 20 years ago, which makes me wonder the current status of the 4 animals she wrote about.
February 28, 2019
I thought I was a writer...and then I read this book. Writing about animals and their environment doesn't get more exquisite than this. Camera technology now gives us high-definition visuals and slow -motion action; but it takes a brilliant nature writer with the sensibilities of a poet to bring us all that plus understanding. I found myself lingering over some of her descriptions and re-reading sentences much as one might stay and stare at a painting or sculpture that you find amazing. What a gift. Not since reading Craig Childs have I savored the written word as much.
October 4, 2013
It look me awhile to get through the first two sections on bats and crocodiles, but once I got to the whales and penguins I was happy (I like bats and crocodiles and all, but not like I like whales and penguins)! Ackerman writes beautifully and there was a lot to interest me here, once I got to the marine animals. I'm not sure if I'm really planning to read any other books of hers because it looks like most of them are not about animals (haha, I'm a nerd), but...maybe?
April 17, 2011
If you took out all of the pointless descriptions of how people look, what they and Ackerman ate together, what they were wearing, what their offices or boats or the roads leading to their work sites reminded her of, how much of this book would be left? A third? Maybe.
April 18, 2012
I would give this six stars if I could.
January 31, 2013
This book made me love bats. Have you ever looked at one up close? They are extraordinary, and intelligent and we need to do whatever we can to make sure they thrive in the wild.
Read
October 7, 2019Diane Ackerman is a field biologist and, as you can tell by the title of this book, a poet.
There are four sections: bats, crocodilian species, whales and penguins. And although I would not have picked up a book on crocodiles, Ackerman’s writing made this family of beasties fascinating and entertaining.
I enjoyed the science, but especially enjoyed her flights into philosophy and poetry.
The section about whales is the longest, and for me, the most interesting. She tells of whale songs which have all the complexities of human songs: including repetitions and even the equivalent of human ‘rhyme schemes.’
When talking of whale songs:
“Suppose human beings evolved two forms of communication, “ I said, “one that is direct emotional communication -- music – and one that’s analytical and verbal, which we call language”. P 122
And this quote:
“…a mind is such an odd predicament for matter to get into. I often marvel how something like hydrogen, the simplest atom, forged in some early chaos of the universe, could lead to us and the gorgeous fever we call consciousness. If I mind is just a few pounds of blood, dream and electric, how does it manage to contemplate itself, worry about its soul, do time-and-motion studies, admire the shy hooves of a goat, know that it will die, enjoy all the grand and lesser mayhems of the hear What is mind, that one can be out of one’s? How can a neuron feel compassion? What is a self? Why did automatic, hand-me-down mammals like our ancestors somehow evolve brains with the ability to consider, imagine, project, compare, abstract, think of the future? If our experience of mind is really just the simmering of an easily alterable chemical stew, then what does it mean to know something, to want something, to be? How do you begin with hydrogen and end up with prom dresses, jealousy, chamber music? What is the music that it can satisfy such a mind, and even perhaps function as language?” p 131
Fascinating and highly readable 4 stars.
There are four sections: bats, crocodilian species, whales and penguins. And although I would not have picked up a book on crocodiles, Ackerman’s writing made this family of beasties fascinating and entertaining.
I enjoyed the science, but especially enjoyed her flights into philosophy and poetry.
The section about whales is the longest, and for me, the most interesting. She tells of whale songs which have all the complexities of human songs: including repetitions and even the equivalent of human ‘rhyme schemes.’
When talking of whale songs:
“Suppose human beings evolved two forms of communication, “ I said, “one that is direct emotional communication -- music – and one that’s analytical and verbal, which we call language”. P 122
And this quote:
“…a mind is such an odd predicament for matter to get into. I often marvel how something like hydrogen, the simplest atom, forged in some early chaos of the universe, could lead to us and the gorgeous fever we call consciousness. If I mind is just a few pounds of blood, dream and electric, how does it manage to contemplate itself, worry about its soul, do time-and-motion studies, admire the shy hooves of a goat, know that it will die, enjoy all the grand and lesser mayhems of the hear What is mind, that one can be out of one’s? How can a neuron feel compassion? What is a self? Why did automatic, hand-me-down mammals like our ancestors somehow evolve brains with the ability to consider, imagine, project, compare, abstract, think of the future? If our experience of mind is really just the simmering of an easily alterable chemical stew, then what does it mean to know something, to want something, to be? How do you begin with hydrogen and end up with prom dresses, jealousy, chamber music? What is the music that it can satisfy such a mind, and even perhaps function as language?” p 131
Fascinating and highly readable 4 stars.
July 7, 2017
Reading this book brought back the feelings of childhood: the immense curiosity and wonder at life, the excitement of learning, facts that inspire awe, stories that provoke wonder. This book stoked emotions that are rarely touched by manmade objects and are usually only reached by nature itself, and I found myself getting excited and worked up with each new piece of knowledge gained. I didn't want this book to end. I wanted to keep on reading and keep on learning more and more about everything this world has to offer.
Diane Ackerman is such a talented writer. She is poetic but not grandiose, reflective but not self-absorbed, interesting and involved but not egotistical. She is humble, easily impressed, thoughtful, observant, and loving, and she wishes to tell us all about all the amazing things she's lived and learned about whales, bats, penguins, and crocodilians.
If Diane Ackerman wrote a thousand-page account of the entire history of civilization, I'd read it. And the moment I finished it, I know I'd want to read it again.
"The Moon by Whale Light" is a book I've been recommending to everyone I talk to, and there is already a three-person waiting list of friends eager to get their hands on my copy after hearing me spout just a few of the many amazing animal facts I've learned from every page.
It's an inspirational read, one that will make you want to learn more about every single living creature, that will cause you to look differently at every animal you see, and think differently about mankind's position in relation to everything else. I appreciate this book immensely, and I am so, so grateful I was able to read it. It has enriched my life beyond measure.
Diane Ackerman is such a talented writer. She is poetic but not grandiose, reflective but not self-absorbed, interesting and involved but not egotistical. She is humble, easily impressed, thoughtful, observant, and loving, and she wishes to tell us all about all the amazing things she's lived and learned about whales, bats, penguins, and crocodilians.
If Diane Ackerman wrote a thousand-page account of the entire history of civilization, I'd read it. And the moment I finished it, I know I'd want to read it again.
"The Moon by Whale Light" is a book I've been recommending to everyone I talk to, and there is already a three-person waiting list of friends eager to get their hands on my copy after hearing me spout just a few of the many amazing animal facts I've learned from every page.
It's an inspirational read, one that will make you want to learn more about every single living creature, that will cause you to look differently at every animal you see, and think differently about mankind's position in relation to everything else. I appreciate this book immensely, and I am so, so grateful I was able to read it. It has enriched my life beyond measure.
December 1, 2022
Whilst this was mostly enjoyable to read, some of Ackerman's "adventures" consisted of looking at heavily captive animals!
The crocodilians chapter was her visiting various "collectors" of captive crocodiles, caimans and alligators! Although the animals sounded fairly well looked after (good weight, no limbs missing- this is her description by the way!) it seems depressing that the best experience you can hope for in reptile watching is among dozens of them packed into a small "reserve", slithering over one another. She seems impressed by one collector who at one point in his urban basement kept alligators and caimans in bathtubs! His house is currently overrun with "exotic" (read as on the list) animals. Hmm, not good.
Similarly the penguins chapter starts with her feeding baby penguins that have been "rescued" from the wild, to be brought back to the US and a decidedly shitty fate in a Sea World. Oh dear.
Ackerman gives plenty of interesting information about the species she delves into but it feels as though she is intentionally just trying to scratch the surface of each animal type, and purposely ignoring the mistreatment, exploitation and illegal trading of animals.
Ok nature writing but "nature" in the most loosest terms.
The crocodilians chapter was her visiting various "collectors" of captive crocodiles, caimans and alligators! Although the animals sounded fairly well looked after (good weight, no limbs missing- this is her description by the way!) it seems depressing that the best experience you can hope for in reptile watching is among dozens of them packed into a small "reserve", slithering over one another. She seems impressed by one collector who at one point in his urban basement kept alligators and caimans in bathtubs! His house is currently overrun with "exotic" (read as on the list) animals. Hmm, not good.
Similarly the penguins chapter starts with her feeding baby penguins that have been "rescued" from the wild, to be brought back to the US and a decidedly shitty fate in a Sea World. Oh dear.
Ackerman gives plenty of interesting information about the species she delves into but it feels as though she is intentionally just trying to scratch the surface of each animal type, and purposely ignoring the mistreatment, exploitation and illegal trading of animals.
Ok nature writing but "nature" in the most loosest terms.
February 13, 2017
Whales by Moonlight?
In these masterful essays written in 1991 Ms. Ackerman gives us some insight into what it's like to travel with the primary researchers in their fields of bats, penguins, crocodiles and whales and study with them. Decidedly NOT squeamish and matter-of factly determined, they give her their reads on their findings into the various animals in their habitats, which she faithfully reports, adding poetic and beautiful passages a little like a travelogue. I have no intention of going into a bat cave (except with Batman!) or to the Antarctic to see penguins, and I get too seasick to even go out and see whales on Maui, but I found her descriptions of those animals fascinating.
In these masterful essays written in 1991 Ms. Ackerman gives us some insight into what it's like to travel with the primary researchers in their fields of bats, penguins, crocodiles and whales and study with them. Decidedly NOT squeamish and matter-of factly determined, they give her their reads on their findings into the various animals in their habitats, which she faithfully reports, adding poetic and beautiful passages a little like a travelogue. I have no intention of going into a bat cave (except with Batman!) or to the Antarctic to see penguins, and I get too seasick to even go out and see whales on Maui, but I found her descriptions of those animals fascinating.
December 2, 2022
A great book on 4 fascinating and wildly different wildlife: bats, crocodilians, cetaceans, and penguins! Loved this read, thank you Eli for letting me borrow it :)
I will say though, I was disappointed in the crocodilian section that more was not mentioned to make it clear that owning the worlds largest live crocodilian collection and competing with some other guy across the world for the title, isn’t cool, actually. The book is very straight forward with it, but I genuinely think there’s a way to read that and think the collector is like, a cool guy, when he’s actually smuggling wildlife and then failing to take care of them properly (rip flat fuck Friday meme). Nitpick tho, actually great information abounds in the book.
TW/CW: animal death
I will say though, I was disappointed in the crocodilian section that more was not mentioned to make it clear that owning the worlds largest live crocodilian collection and competing with some other guy across the world for the title, isn’t cool, actually. The book is very straight forward with it, but I genuinely think there’s a way to read that and think the collector is like, a cool guy, when he’s actually smuggling wildlife and then failing to take care of them properly (rip flat fuck Friday meme). Nitpick tho, actually great information abounds in the book.
TW/CW: animal death
June 1, 2018
I really enjoyed this book and the deep dive into the worlds of bats, crocodilians, whales, and penguins. The author is a gifted wordsmith, with vivid descriptions of these different universes. And her passion for nature shines through, reminding the reader that these alien cultures are actually intimately connected to our world. And mankind, in our collective ignorance and arrogance, is destroying the world we all live in and these amazing creatures besides. I came away feeling as if I had accompanied the author on her adventures, but also like I need to do each of them myself. Highly recommend.
February 6, 2019
2.5 stars
Dated, obviously, given how much more scientific knowledge we've since gained and how much more destruction we've wrought since 1991. So, somewhat depressing. My favorite section was on the bats but I couldn't help thinking of how many more bats we've lost since this was published due to humans and white-nose syndrome. The crocodiles section came across as more standoffish and the people involved were rather unlikable IMO. The whale and penguin sections were nothing I haven't read many times before so it left me dissatisfied. I also was rather irked that Sea World played a heavy role with the penguins. Overall, pretty well written but sometimes the author was trying too hard.
Dated, obviously, given how much more scientific knowledge we've since gained and how much more destruction we've wrought since 1991. So, somewhat depressing. My favorite section was on the bats but I couldn't help thinking of how many more bats we've lost since this was published due to humans and white-nose syndrome. The crocodiles section came across as more standoffish and the people involved were rather unlikable IMO. The whale and penguin sections were nothing I haven't read many times before so it left me dissatisfied. I also was rather irked that Sea World played a heavy role with the penguins. Overall, pretty well written but sometimes the author was trying too hard.
August 14, 2020
Diane Ackerman is a joy to read. Her subjects in this series of essays are creatures that she clearly is passionate about. Who knew that reading about bats and crocodiles, for instance, would be so fascinating. There is tons of natural history data, but what I most appreciated was that these two creatures, although not beloved or cuddly were so passionately described with a true desire to help the reader understand and even relate to animals that we may not be inclined to claim kinship with. It worked, I am now swooning and proud even, to be occupying the same planet and time with all of these creatures. Nature is a marvelous.
July 4, 2017
I have always liked Diane Ackerman's nonfiction. She really puts the reader in touch with the natural world. This book hones in on the lives of a few animals: bats, penguins, crocodiles, and whales. My favorite chapter is the one on bats. Everyone should be aware of the importance and value of bats after reading this segment of the book. She always does a thorough, good job of capturing her subject whether it be an animal, a plant, or a sense. I've read several of her books and like them all.
August 14, 2018
Ackerman is a beautiful writer, writing about natural history (in this case, four types of animals) in a clear and most poetic way. This book is made up of four essays, one each on bats, crocodilians, whales, and penguins. Reading her work is a joy, not unlike the "creative nonfiction" experience of reading John McPhee, Susan Casey, or Terry Tempest Williams. Ackerman wrote these essays in the early '90s; I'd be very interested in reading updates that take into account our current situation in terms of climate change, endangered species protection, the impact of adventure tourism, and more. In any case, this is a wonderful book and well worth your time.
September 17, 2020
Ackerman's journeys and experience with animal scientists and their studies of choice are enough to make anyone green with envy (and seasickness), but the descriptions too often shy away from the subject to interior musings and "dear diary" entries. It's poetic, but not for me. If I read this on a park bench in a large city, I'm sure I'd love it.
An afterthought: It's amazing how outdated many descriptors for far-away places have become since the publication of these essays. A fair number of sentences would get a second look from any editor now for exoticization or just seeming "off".
An afterthought: It's amazing how outdated many descriptors for far-away places have become since the publication of these essays. A fair number of sentences would get a second look from any editor now for exoticization or just seeming "off".
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