| The Magazine of the CALIFORNIA ACADEMY OF SCIENCES |
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REVIEWS Mayan Champions Romancing the Maya: Mexican Antiquity in the American Imagination, by R. Tripp Evans. University of Texas Press, Austin, TX, 2004, 224 pp., $45.00 hardcover. Next time you have a dinner party, ask your assembled guests to name half a dozen ancient civilizations. Along with the Inca and Egyptians, they’ll almost certainly mention the Maya. How did the Maya come to feature so prominently on the west’s cultural map, when the Assyrians, Zimbabweans, and other ancient cultures produced social and architectural achievements equally worthy of acclaim? The answer lies in no small part with the aims, ambitions, and characters of the westerners who first explored and excavated the jungle-clad ruins of this New World civilization. Real live Indiana Jones types, they stamped their personalities on the way Mayan civilization was perceived by the public. In the process, they made both the Maya and themselves famous. The book covers the five major figures who led the explorations: American travel writer-turned-archaeologist John Lloyd Stephens and his colleague, English architectural illustrator Frederick Catherwood; American religious visionary Joseph Smith, founder of the Church of Latter Day Saints; French photographer Désiré Charnay; and French-English-American couple Augustus and Alice Le Plongeon, who claimed, among other things, to be reincarnated Mayan royalty. Each had their own political and personal agendas for exploring, excavating, and suffering. American chauvinist Stephens sought to claim the historical patrimony of a newly-emergent (and therefore threatening) Mexican state for the United States. Smith aimed to prove the Mayans were one of the lost tribes of Israel and thereby substantiate the Book of Mormon. Meanwhile, the Le Plongeons determined to prove that the Maya had invented Freemasonry and built the pyramids of Egypt. These explorers also benefited from the sweeping social and technological changes of their times. Advances in printing allowed the mass production of inexpensive books with high-quality illustrations. No fools, these media-savvy adventurers used their publications to hype themselves, and their discoveries both real and imagined. At the same time, a growing urban middle class, leisured, literate, and longing for the lost excitement of the frontier, devoured these books like candy. In elegant prose and with a wry sense of humor, Tripp carefully sets each in their cultural and historical context and explores their motives, personal tensions and rivalries. Trained in both art history and Central American archaeology, Tripp highlights how the various teams exaggerated their experiences and interpreted certain architectural details to suit their own theories. The explorers’ discovery processes turn out to be part uncovering of truth, part bitter and protracted struggle for glory, prestige and funds. In that sense, this book is as much about the human mind as it is about the ruins of a bygone civilization. Though we may look askance at these early explorers’ methods and motivations, it is thanks to their ferocious promotion that the triumphs of the ancient Maya spring so readily to the modern mind. Adrian Barnett Friends of Frans de Waal Animal Social Complexity: Intelligence, Culture, and Individualized Societies, edited by Frans B. M. de Waal and Peter L. Tyack. Harvard University Press, Cambridge, MA, 2003. 616 pp., $49.50 hardcover. My Family Album: Thirty Years of Primate Photography, by Frans B. M. de Waal. University of California Press, Berkeley, CA, 2003, 174 pp., $29.95 hardcover. In Animal Social Complexity, de Waal and Tyack explore the most difficult, complex, and fascinating questions in animal behavior—the questions relating to the evolution, function, and development of intelligence, social structure, and culture. Even in humans, concepts such as what is intelligence? how is it measured? and where does it come from? have been difficult to define and understand, and continue to be subject to debate. So it would seem profoundly difficult to prepare a book that hopes to survey our understanding of social complexity across different animal species. And yet this book does so with elegance. de Waal and Tyack take complementary approaches to these subjects. First, they present important themes within an introductory chapter. These introductions include some history of how the theories discussed in the section developed, and a summary of current thinking and research. They follow each introduction with sections that document and describe the complex social lives of animals. Some come in the form of case studies, while others are a review of years or decades of research on a particular species. Together, these give the reader clear examples and a good understanding of important concepts. The book contains a total of 18 review chapters and 13 case studies—all written by researchers active in the field. The editors provide five introductory chapters to put theories and present papers in perspective. The book explores several important themes and areas of research. In the first section, the contributors suggest that a complex social milieu is correlated with brain evolution and that intelligence evolved primarily for making appropriate choices in a group context. This idea has received much recent attention, and the book examines it further by analyzing the relationships among life history, social structure, and measures of intelligence. The second section explores how cooperative strategies can evolve and function in animals with very different intelligence abilities (dolphins, sperm whales, hyenas, mongooses, canids). The third section deals with societies in which individuals are cognizant of their own status and role as well as those of others, and how this social cognition affects group dynamics. The fourth section reviews research concepts in communication from the vocalizations of parrots and bats to laughter and smiling in chimps. And finally, the last section deals with the growing field of cultural transmission and cultural learning. The book is written for a sophisticated scientific audience. Nonetheless, its clear and concise information is within reach of any natural history reader. The case studies and species summaries provide fascinating overviews of the social networks of different animals. It is a valuable addition to any academic library, and essential reading for any serious student of complex social behaviors. de Waal’s other recent book, My Family Album, also addresses complex issues of intelligence, social structure, and culture. This photo album contains 122 black and white images culled from thousands de Waal has taken over his 30-year career in primate research. In some cases, the captions complete a story only partly told by the photo, as in the images of Mozu, a macaque with serious birth defects, or two chimps making peace after a long chase. In other cases, they help explain important biological concepts. Although the book does not anthropomorphize per se, the photos capture social moments that are so human in nature that it is nearly impossible to deny that these animals are our closest relatives—our family, if you will. With his photography, de Waal demonstrates that we do understand primate behavior and experience, because we share similar experiences in our own families and lives—the appeal of infants, playing, fighting and reconciliation, political alliances, mating, and even the struggles of aging. This is probably not a book for young children, precisely because it pulls no punches and depicts the sexual interactions of bonobos, the trials of birth defects, and violence in the troop as well as cute and cuddly moments. But it is an amazing book to pore over, as these photos and stories will give you a richer, more visceral sense of who we are as primates.
Eating the Right Seafood One fish, two fish, crawfish, bluefish. The Smithsonian Sustainable Seafood Cookbook, by Carole C. Baldwin and Julie H. Mounts, with illustrations by Charlotte Knox. Smithsonian Books, Washington, DC, 2003. 330 pp., $35.00 hardcover. More than 70 percent of the world’s fish stocks are overfished, depleted, or worse, extinct as a resource. And even more distressing was the report published in Nature last May demonstrating that 90 percent of the large pelagic fishes of the world’s oceans—sharks, billfishes and tunas—are now gone. A long list of authors has recently lamented the loss of Atlantic cods, Monterey sardines, swordfish, roughies, and abalone in informative works such as Carl Safina’s Song for the Blue Ocean (Henry Holt and Co., 1997), Sylvia Earle’s Sea Change (Putnam’s, 1995), and Daniel Pauley and Jay Maclean’s In a Perfect Ocean (Island Press, 2003). Each proposes different solutions to current unsustainable fishery practices and policies, but all agree that consumer education is critical. To that end, Mesdames Baldwin and Mounts have created a guilt-free guide to seafood cookery and dining, based on species that are well-managed and fished with little or no habitat disruption or wasteful bycatch. They have assembled 104 of the best chefs from across America, ranging from Grant Aschatz of Trio Restaurant to Roy Yamaguchi of Roy’s—Honolulu, all of whom have taken the pledge to serve only sustainable species. The chefs have provided 150 recipes, including such fare as Alice Waters’ Roasted Squid with Bread Crumbs and Oregano; Julia Child’s Fish Galettes with Black Butter Sauce; Jacques Pépin’s Sautéed Soft-Shell Crabs on Asparagus; Wolfgang Puck’s Steamed Black Sea Bass “Hong Kong” Style; and Narsai David’s Cucumber-Steamed Grenadier. Each recipe is lusciously illustrated by Charlotte Knox. Included in this work are explanations of sustainability, destructive fishery practices, the pros and cons of fish farming, and health-related issues about seafood. For example, fish are low in unsaturated fat and often high in beneficial omega-3 fatty acids, but may be contaminated by methylmercury and other toxics. A culinary glossary, a list of the common and scientific names of sustainably fished species, contact information for markets that ship fish anywhere in the U.S., and extensive references (both print and online) will provide any environmentally-conscious chef or gourmet with all they could need to shop wisely. Recent federal legislation that requires seafood to be labeled with its origin and means of capture will make this easier. Because the status of many seafood species will ultimately change through unsustainable (or improved) fishery practices or bycatch issues, the reader is referred to websites that update species listings such as the Monterey Bay Aquarium’s Seafood Watch (mbayaq.org), the Seafood Choices Alliance (seafoodchoices.com), the Smithsonian Seafood Website (mnh.si.edu/seafood), and the Academy’s own Seafood Guide (www.calacademy.org). This book belongs in the kitchen of every environmentally conscious consumer, and will help guarantee healthy ecosystems and delectable seafood for future generations. John E. McCosker Landscape Adorned Edge of the Earth, Corner of the Sky, by Art Wolfe, with Art Davidson. Wildlands Press, Seattle, WA, 2003, 240 pp., $75.00 hardcover. Ten years ago, Wolfe’s digital manipulation of images in his nature photography book Migrations was scornfully described as “photofakery” by Kenneth Brower in the Atlantic Monthly. And environmentalists have protested that the powerful positive influence of nature photography is undercut by the idea that it can all be “just made up.” So while reading Wolfe’s new book Edge of the Earth, Corner of the Sky, I was wary, even skeptical. Even after ten years the debate still rages. While the professional vanguard of photographers has settled down to do what they personally consider ethical and document their processes through an honor system, the general public still insistently asks, “is this a dream or is it real.” I was skeptical because I have no idea if manipulated nature photographs really have altered our perception of the natural world—and hence our interest in its conservation. I don’t believe that the question of whether a photograph is a dream (digitally manipulated) or real ever can be ans-wered conclusively. This has been an issue since the invention of the camera obscura. The grand old masters of photography who worked with 8”x 10” or 4”x 5” film and were skilled in darkroom techniques have set the bar for technical expertise and precision so high that it is difficult to challenge them with modern SLR 35mm equipment. Additionally, I think that of all photography, landscapes are the most difficult. Art Wolfe’s work dances at the center of my personal debates. The photographs in Edge of the Earth, Corner of the Sky are excellent. Wolfe’s technical mastery of the 35 mm format and the judicious use of Fuji’s Provia 400 speed film on specific shots made some images possible that many other photographers would have had to use digital chicanery to pull off. The book’s images, including the digital composites, are labeled in an appendix in an unapologetic way that should be used as a manual of style for future works. The paper choice shows an important effort to walk the environmental talk. But some photos didn’t print as well as they might have as a result. However, the design, printing, and exquisite photographic content are consistently beautiful. As in Light on the Land, Wolfe has successfully teamed up with writer Art Davidson. Rarely are photography books also literature, but this is an exception. And there is a refreshing lack of visual emphasis on endangered species, a staple of many wildlife photographers including Wolfe. One feels by the end of this book that these landscapes are tied heroically to all life’s preservation and that the landscape will endure long after the fleeting light has passed over it. Joseph Kinyon Have Camera, Will Dive Diving The World , photographs by Norbert Wu, text by Ken McAlpine. Hugh Lauter Levin Associates, Inc, Westport, CT, 2003. 384 pp., $75.00 hardcover. Big, glossy coffee table books featuring high-quality underwater photographs have become a common commodity these days. Nevertheless, Norbert Wu, one of the biggest names in underwater photography, has made a fine addition to the genre. In Diving the World, Wu has collaborated with writer Ken McAlpine to produce an informative and beautifully illustrated book. Unlike most such books, which are restricted in coverage to a particular part of the world, this book is more like a compendium of worldwide locations—a synopsis of Wu’s productive and well-traveled career. More than a tropical beach and coral reef book, this one covers Antarctic waters, the North Pacific and the North Atlantic as well as the South Pacific and the Indian Oceans. He also includes a brief but important section on conservation. The book presents many large format images—including one or two full page enlargements—as well as smaller photographs interspersed throughout the explanatory text. The text offers more than captions to pictures, providing brief stories, anecdotal and biographical segments, and the usual assemblage of academic facts and figures regarding animal life, geology, and geography. The subjects of the color photographs include fish and invertebrates, underwater landscapes, penguins, marine mammals, aerial views, divers and seascapes, animal interactions, and ultra-closeups. The major detraction of the book has to do with reproduction of the images. The color seems strangely subdued and darker than one would expect. This may have something to do with the matte finish of the pages. Glossier paper might have resulted in brighter, more attractive images. Nevertheless, this book, with its detailed photographs and excellent text, is worth having in any naturalist’s library. Gary C. Williams Recommended Reading from the Editors' Desks The Beast in the Garden: A Modern Parable of Man and Nature, by David Baron. W.W. Norton & Company, New York, NY, 2003. 277 pp., $24.95 hardcover. In January 1991, a high school athlete was mauled and partially eaten by a cougar outside of Boulder, Colorado. At the time, Scott Lancaster’s grisly death—the first killing by a cougar in Colorado for a century—was largely considered a freak accident. In fact, as science writer David Baron deftly shows, it was a tragedy waiting to happen. Relying on thousands of hours of interviews, meticulously researched records, and historical documents, Baron's gripping account reconstructs the circumstances surrounding the attack. For thousands of years, most of North America was cougar country. Then an appetite for livestock led cougars squarely into the gunsights of farmers and ranchers. Since then, Americans’ attitudes towards nature have undergone a sea change. Where once we shot cougars, we now attract them with parklands and thrill at their every glimpse. In the Colorado of the early 1990s, those glimpses had grown disturbingly frequent. Cougars were slaughtering deer in backyards, carrying off neighborhood pets, wandering suburban streets, and showing absolutely no fear of humans. The conditions that led to Lancaster’s mauling still exist all across the West. Today, bans on cougar hunting, an upsurge in outdoor recreation, and the creep of development into former wildlands have only exacerbated the problem. Just this year, a cyclist was killed in Orange County, and a cougar ventured deep into suburban Palo Alto before being shot to death by police. Baron’s book reads as easily any best-selling mystery. But the questions it raises—including how wild we really want our wilderness to be—remain unanswered. Kathleen M. Wong Farming With The Wild: Enhancing Biodiversity of Farms and Ranches, by Daniel Imhoff and Roberto Carra. Sierra Club Books, Berkeley, CA, 2003. 184 pp., $29.95 paper. Farming with the wild conjures up images of buckskin-clad zealots barely subsisting on roots and berries while bears roam the thickets of once-productive agricultural land. Daniel Imhoff and Roberto Carra dispel this myth, drawing on 36 working farms spread across 20 states. Whether you're into horticulture, muck farming, or raising beef, the bottom line is that diversification and ecolabels encourage your bank balance to settle comfortably in the black zone. Restoring bottomlands, creating wildlife corridors for animals to move between farms, and protecting riparian woodlands all make sound economic sense while providing spiritual enrichment. The photographs bear an amazing resemblance to illustrations of farms in children’s books, or one’s first ideas of Eden. This beauty, the interface between the wild and the sown, makes enhancing farm biodiversity seem like the right and natural way to go. Suzanne Ubick Introduction to California Beetles , by Arthur V. Evans and James N. Hogue. University of California Press, Berkeley, CA, 2004. 316 pp., $39.95 hardcover. Evans and Hogue have an inordinate fondness for beetles, and it shows in their well-written guide. They use accessible language and apt similes to describe the structure of a beetle’s body, and how it works. Scientific terms are defined in everyday English. Simple, clear line drawings show the position and relation of the beetle’s body parts. Sharp, colorful photographs catch the eye, and the captions add concise nuggets of information. The thorny subject of classification is dealt with lucidly, and the authors explain why classification is necessary and how names are chosen. The habits, distribution, and life-cycles of California’s beetle families are described in an interesting way. For example, the reader learns that flour beetles infest not only ground grains but also chocolate and spices. Fossil beetles are considered time capsules, preserving not only themselves but evidence of their environment. Pests like longhorned tree borers and urban assault beetles are given special attention. The chapter on conspicuous California beetle families makes it possible to recognize many without a microscope. The final section of the book deals with the study of beetles: where to find them, how to capture and preserve them, and how to label and maintain your collection. Interested amateurs should start here and acquire a sound foundation before moving on to identification manuals. Suzanne Ubick |