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A review by sjgrodsky
Islands of Abandonment by Cal Flyn
4.0
I took a long time to read this book, interspersing a few others while still in mid-read. And I’m writing this review on March 1, more than a week after completing the book. So this isn’t the fresh, complete review the author deserves, although I will do my best.
The author is full of physical courage. I would not camp overnight alone on a deserted island in the south Orkneys, much as I’d like to see the re-wilded cattle of Swona. Still less would I wriggle underneath fencing designed to keep humans away from the still-dangerous grounds where World War I poison gas still devastates the land. And I wouldn’t spend as much time as she did with the marginal, but armed, characters of Slab City, California. Cal was willing to take risks I would never take in pursuit of her story.
Cal is also a beautiful prose stylist. She is the equal of Rachel Carson, whose luminous descriptions date from the 1960s.
She’s a good thinker too. Gazing at the Swona cattle, she asks if they are truly wild. This leads her to think about what “domesticated” is, and to discuss the continuum from domesticated to feral to wild. My only disappointment is that she doesn’t reach a clear conclusion about the Swona cattle. I would say that they are re-wilded: domestic once, but no more.
Good as Cal is, I was disappointed at the lack of visual aids. Not a single photo or drawing or map. It’s also significant that the stories I remember best concern the Swona cattle (because I found videos on YouTube) and the Salton Sea (because I’ve visited).
Last: I wish Cal had delved more into why so many humans (she, I, her readers) are fascinated with places that are dead or nearly dead. This isn’t a new human trait. Shelley’s “Ozymandias” works off the same semi-pornographic interest. But WHY do we gaze? What are we getting out if it?
The author is full of physical courage. I would not camp overnight alone on a deserted island in the south Orkneys, much as I’d like to see the re-wilded cattle of Swona. Still less would I wriggle underneath fencing designed to keep humans away from the still-dangerous grounds where World War I poison gas still devastates the land. And I wouldn’t spend as much time as she did with the marginal, but armed, characters of Slab City, California. Cal was willing to take risks I would never take in pursuit of her story.
Cal is also a beautiful prose stylist. She is the equal of Rachel Carson, whose luminous descriptions date from the 1960s.
She’s a good thinker too. Gazing at the Swona cattle, she asks if they are truly wild. This leads her to think about what “domesticated” is, and to discuss the continuum from domesticated to feral to wild. My only disappointment is that she doesn’t reach a clear conclusion about the Swona cattle. I would say that they are re-wilded: domestic once, but no more.
Good as Cal is, I was disappointed at the lack of visual aids. Not a single photo or drawing or map. It’s also significant that the stories I remember best concern the Swona cattle (because I found videos on YouTube) and the Salton Sea (because I’ve visited).
Last: I wish Cal had delved more into why so many humans (she, I, her readers) are fascinated with places that are dead or nearly dead. This isn’t a new human trait. Shelley’s “Ozymandias” works off the same semi-pornographic interest. But WHY do we gaze? What are we getting out if it?