A Book Lover's Birthday

Dear Friends and Family,

Thank you for knowing me so well! Every one of my birthday books is just what I wanted. You’ve given me not just many hours of reading pleasure but inspiring words to live with and by throughout the next year. Here’s the complete, delicious list.

The Devil’s Doctor: Paracelus and the World of Renaissance Magic and Science, by Philip Ball (2006).

Why Pandas Do Handstands and Other Curious Truths about Animals, by Augustus Brown (2006).


Liquid Jade: The Story of Tea from East to West, by Beatrice Hohenegger (2006).

Animal, Vegetable, Miracle: A Year of Food Life, by Barbara Kingsolver (2007).

Double Lives: American Writers’ Friendships, by Richard Lingeman (2006).

The Flight of the Iguana: A Sidelong View of Science and Nature, by David Quammen (1998).

The Way We Garden Now, by Katherine Whiteside (2007).

And as if that weren’t enough, I bought myself a birthday book, too. It’s Sy Montgomery’s The Good Good Pig: The Extraordinary Life of Christopher Hogwood (2007). I picked it because I enjoy all of Sy Montgomery's books, but it's the perfect addition to the above list. Friends and family expressed their love to Chris the hog with frequent deliveries of delectables--day-old bagels, melon rinds, cold oatmeal, and other left-overs, learning over time which were his absolute favorites. His choices may not appeal to everyone, but like my birthday books, each gift was met with gratitude and exuberance. I can't want to devour every one. Yum!

Just Say "No" to Book Bullies

I'm enjoying several books right now, but it's too soon to chat about them. Instead, I want to rant a bit about an issue my 6th grader brought up. She's just been assigned a book that she's already read and disliked. Now, she doesn't have much choice but to re-read it at her teacher's behest. But often in one's reading life, books come up that someone or something presses upon you unbidden. "You should read this." "You MUST read this." "What? You haven't read THIS?" How "should" you respond?

My best self knows to listen and maybe take down the title and author for future exploring. But too often such pushing raises my hackles and perhaps predisposes me to dislike the book. Or the raves set you up with such high expectations that the actual imperfect piece of literature has to be a let down.

Sarah's assigned book was a case of the latter for me. For years I heard variations of "You're kidding! You're a nature nut and you write kids books (and your name is Julie) but you haven't read Julie and the Wolves? You must!" When it finally worked its way to the top of my stack, I'm sad to say I found it a bit tedious. I like other Jean Craighead George books, such as Nutik and the Thirteen Moons series and love My Side of the Mountain , so it could well be that I had simply heard to much about "Julie" for it to seem fresh. I'll probably give it another try sometime--if I feel like it!

And I'm glad it reminded me of an important issue for anyone using books as activism tools. It's one thing to let people know about a book and to express your admiration and passion for it. It's another thing to insist that a certain book or lists of books is The Standard Curriculum for naturalists/environmentalists/writers/whatever. I'll try to keep this in mind when my sometimes-too-strident opinions pop onto my blog post and when I make lists of recommended--but not required--reading. The photo with this post will help me remember, since that's Sarah, reminding me that it's better to play in the snow than read about it sometimes. I believe strongly that books and readers need to find each other (and sometimes must also part), and I don't want to bully anyone into reading anything.

Well, except A Sand County Almanac.

Books that Fly

I like it already. Andrew Blechman's 2006 book, Pigeons, starts with an anonymous quote, "Some days you're the pigeon. Some days you're the statue." I feel like the statue as I pack swiftly for a difficult family trip, so I was happy to find this book at my library. My first rule for picking a book to travel with is to make sure that you've read at least a little so you don't get stuck hauling a turkey (or pigeon) around for 100s of miles.

As I swooped through the library, a few other volumes also looked promising. One is Return of the Condor: The Race to Save Our Largest Bird from Extinction, by John Moir, another 2006 book. I know enough about the condor story to expect that the book tells a fascinating tale, rich in politics and passion, and I love a good fight between scientists over what's the right thing to do in a sticky situation. But I haven't read any reviews of the book, while I've seen a few of extolling Pigeons. I grabbed Return of the Condor, too, but I think I'll add it to the stack to read when I get home.

One other book came close to getting on the plane with me: The Gentle Subversive: Rachel Carson, Silent Spring, and the Rise of the Environmental Movement, by Mark Hamilton Lytle. This succinct volume not only explores the history of Carson's ideas about humanity's place in nature, but it's publication coincides with her 100th birthday this May. But I know enough about Carson's story of personal and political struggles to think she might not be the perfect companion in my statue-like current condition. Again, I think I'll let her stay home for future reading.

So it looks like Pigeons will be on the plane with me. If you'd lilke to hear Blechman talk about his book on my favorite radio program, check the archives of The Diane Rehm Show. And email me quick if you have other suggestions of books to add to my travelling stack, since my second rule of picking a travel book is to make sure you have a back up. Thanks!