Image: Ambrose Palisot de Beauvois (public domain).
Writing my forthcoming book has taken me down a lot of rabbitholes. Many of them have involved the history of science, and especially, the history of natural history. I’ve learned about naturalists who were heroic and naturalists who were despicable; naturalists who were centuries ahead of their times and naturalists stubbornly stuck in the past; naturalists who had every privilege and naturalists who struggled even to feed themselves, let alone to do science. But no naturalist I’ve encountered was as extraordinarily unlucky as Ambroise Marie François Joseph Palisot, Baron de Beauvois. Continue reading
Image: Alexander von Humboldt and Aimé Bonpland in the Amazon jungle, via wikimedia.org. Painting by Eduard Ender, circa 1850; from the collection of the Berlin-Brandenburg Academy of Sciences and Humanities.
Research for my new book has me reading a lot of books about the history of natural history. Some are well known, some are obscure; some are old; some are new. (Some were borrowed, although at least this time around, none were blue.) Here are a few more minireviews (in no particular order), in case the pile of books you’ve been meaning to read isn’t big enough.
Naming Nature: The Clash Between Instinct and Science (Yoon 2009, Norton). This book, Yoon tells us, started out as a history and explanation of taxonomy – the science of naming and describing species. It grew into something else, something a little bit strange, and something a bit difficult to put one’s finger on. Continue reading
Image: Chamaeleon, from Arcana, or, the Museum of Natural History (1811) by Thomas, Lord Busby (1811). Which has nothing to do with the four books reviewed here; I just like the illustration.
Research for my new book has me reading a lot of books about the history of natural history. Among the books, some are new, some are old; some are well known, some are obscure. Here are four more minireviews (in no particular order), in case the pile of books you’ve been meaning to read isn’t big enough. (There were six more in the first post in this series, here.)
Under a Wild Sky: John James Audubon and the Making of the Birds of America (Souder 2004, North Point Press). This book, like its subject, is utterly fascinating. I knew nothing about Audubon other than being familiar with his famous bird prints. I assumed, somehow, that he was an upper-class gentleman with a distinguished family history. In fact, he was a newcomer, born in Haiti and raised in France, and something of a ne’er-do-well: a serial exaggerator if not an outright liar, an atrociously poor businessman, and yet somehow an inspired artist who reinvented the depiction of natural history. Continue reading