Scan barcode
Reviews
The Peregrine: The Hill of Summer & Diaries - The Complete Works of J. A. Baker by J.A. Baker
amalthera's review against another edition
emotional
informative
inspiring
reflective
relaxing
sad
slow-paced
4.75
oxdubs's review against another edition
The most gorgeous and transcendent nature prose I've ever read, and a definite desert island pick for me. Herzog called it "ecstasy in observation" and I think that is a perfect description of what Baker's writing offers. I've read The Peregrine several times, and just got around to reading The Hill of Summer, which is less intense but still full of the poetry that makes The Peregrine so great.
nicktomjoe's review
4.0
A curious monument to a very particular kind of bird watching. There are beautiful turns of phrase so often that quotation would seem to diminish them, mostly in similes for this or that bird behaviour. Baker focuses on the peregrines of the Essex marshes, admiring them, fearing them, identitying with them; this obsessive reporting over the seasons builds a wonderfully detailed pIcture of a deadly raptor in a place "beyond desolate:" yes, quoting is irresistible, as is the relentless episode after episode of watching a set of birds at their work.
andrewspink's review against another edition
5.0
These are two quite extraordinary books. On the one hand they lack a plot, there is a huge amount of repetition, especially in The Peregrine, where time after time the hunting by the peregrine and killing of its prey are described, and condensing ten years into one gives a strange impression that every time you step out into the countryside you could expect to see multiple rare and secretive animals, a bit like watching a natural history program on TV. Nevertheless, I've still given it five stars. That is quite simply because of astonishingly beautiful and poetic prose. The use of language is so incredible, so creative, so forceful that feels more like a poem than a novel. And it works, you really feel what it is like to be there in the field observing the birds. Of the two books, The Peregrine has received the most acclaim. However, I must say that I preferred The Hill of Summer. That was in part because of the relentless kill after kill in The Peregrine got a bit much to me, but above all, because his obsession with that bird meant that the rest of what was going on got too much squeezed out. The Hill of Summer was in that sense much more balanced. The whole habitat was described, still with a focus on the birds, but at least the other animals and the trees were given their due, even if the rest of the plants are only a backdrop and barely mentioned. So far I have only dipped into the diaries, that's not the sort of text you want to just read, but I'm looking forward to coming back to them and reading more.
bookpossum's review
4.0
THE HILL OF SUMMER
I read "The Peregrine" a few weeks ago, and gave it five stars. I have now read Baker's other book, "The Hill of Summer", where he writes of observations over a six month period, gleaned from many years of returning to the same area and observing the wildlife there. Again, it was a wonderful read, though it was more general than the first book which concentrated on observations of Peregrines, with other birds being almost incidental. Baker's observations are minute, and his writing is beautiful. Here is a sample taken from towards the end of the book, describing the approach of night:
"Flocks of starlings fly west toward their roosting-place; mallard go inland to feed in the stubble. There is an inevitable stillness here, like the calm solitude of still water. A meadow pipit calls as I cross the field. The green of the grass intensifies, then fades to grey. All shapes recede, then seem to come slowly nearer, as dusk deepens and day ends.
There is a soft breath of parting among the brittle stems of the reeds at the side of the dyke. A short-eared owl floats up into the air. Its wings press slowly down and forward as it billows away across the fields. Gliding and banking steeply, it fades through the dusk. All around me, I hear the calls of golden plover rising like a mist of sound.
...
Deep in the afterglow, the gently imploring calls of partridges breathe upwards, like smoke-curls of autumn dusk. A hare runs into the dark corn. The empty land reaches out beyond the dusk, into the dews of night, into the fields of stars.
The estuary sinks slowly down below the black rampart of the farm, with all its brightness held up to me for the last time in one great flashing rim of light. Then I go inland, into the dark country of the minatory owls."
I read "The Peregrine" a few weeks ago, and gave it five stars. I have now read Baker's other book, "The Hill of Summer", where he writes of observations over a six month period, gleaned from many years of returning to the same area and observing the wildlife there. Again, it was a wonderful read, though it was more general than the first book which concentrated on observations of Peregrines, with other birds being almost incidental. Baker's observations are minute, and his writing is beautiful. Here is a sample taken from towards the end of the book, describing the approach of night:
"Flocks of starlings fly west toward their roosting-place; mallard go inland to feed in the stubble. There is an inevitable stillness here, like the calm solitude of still water. A meadow pipit calls as I cross the field. The green of the grass intensifies, then fades to grey. All shapes recede, then seem to come slowly nearer, as dusk deepens and day ends.
There is a soft breath of parting among the brittle stems of the reeds at the side of the dyke. A short-eared owl floats up into the air. Its wings press slowly down and forward as it billows away across the fields. Gliding and banking steeply, it fades through the dusk. All around me, I hear the calls of golden plover rising like a mist of sound.
...
Deep in the afterglow, the gently imploring calls of partridges breathe upwards, like smoke-curls of autumn dusk. A hare runs into the dark corn. The empty land reaches out beyond the dusk, into the dews of night, into the fields of stars.
The estuary sinks slowly down below the black rampart of the farm, with all its brightness held up to me for the last time in one great flashing rim of light. Then I go inland, into the dark country of the minatory owls."
trsr's review against another edition
5.0
A superb piece of nature writing: among the finest descriptions I've read of farm and forest, wader and warbler, sea and sky, hawk and hobby. Baker writes of British countryside and its birds and other wildlife in words that seem to immerse the reader in the location, in the eyes and body of the swooping falcon, in the whispering pines, in the hunting owl sailing over the landscape. Many passages about the peregrines, hobbies, and sparrowhawks are simply amazing.
This is not a book, however, for someone wondering 'what is he getting at'. There is no larger narrative, no storyline. This is a diary of observation, a perceptive detailing of nature that may appeal to those who like the music of nature and the cadence of good writing.
It is the voice Baker spending his days roaming on foot or bicycle or boat to recounting what he has seen and how he has seen. As he writes: "My life is here, where soon the larks will sing again, and there is a hawk above. One wishes only to go forward, deeper into the summer land, journeying from lark-song to lark-song, passing through the dark realm of the owls, the fox-holdings, the badger-shires, out into the brilliant winter dominion, the sea-bleak world of the hawks."
This is not a book, however, for someone wondering 'what is he getting at'. There is no larger narrative, no storyline. This is a diary of observation, a perceptive detailing of nature that may appeal to those who like the music of nature and the cadence of good writing.
It is the voice Baker spending his days roaming on foot or bicycle or boat to recounting what he has seen and how he has seen. As he writes: "My life is here, where soon the larks will sing again, and there is a hawk above. One wishes only to go forward, deeper into the summer land, journeying from lark-song to lark-song, passing through the dark realm of the owls, the fox-holdings, the badger-shires, out into the brilliant winter dominion, the sea-bleak world of the hawks."
More...