Zoo World: Essays: Non/Fiction Collection Prize
Autor Mary Quadeen Limba Engleză Paperback – 18 sep 2023
We contain the elements of our world in archives, boxes, collections, mausoleums, history books, and museums, trying to stave off their eventual disappearance from our memory and from the earth in a futile attempt at redemption for our violence against them. In Zoo World, Mary Quade examines our propensity for damage, our relationships with other species, our troubling belief in our own dominion, and the reality that when you put something in a cage, it becomes your responsibility. Her subjects are as eclectic as mallard ducks, ancient churches, monarch butterflies, classrooms, tourism, street markets, zoos, and dairy cows and as global as migration, war, language, and climate change. Whatever the topic at hand, Zoo World considers how our stewardship of the earth and one another falls short, hoping that a more humble understanding of our place on the planet might lead not only to our mutual survival but also to the extinction of our hubris as human beings. Replete with Quade’s lyrical and observational gifts and refusing to let any of us off the hook in the name of inspiration or comfort, these essays are a fresh take on travel and nature writing, pushing both in thrilling new directions.
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Specificații
ISBN-13: 9780814258774
ISBN-10: 0814258778
Pagini: 208
Dimensiuni: 140 x 216 x 18 mm
Greutate: 0.25 kg
Editura: Ohio State University Press
Colecția Mad Creek Books
Seria Non/Fiction Collection Prize
ISBN-10: 0814258778
Pagini: 208
Dimensiuni: 140 x 216 x 18 mm
Greutate: 0.25 kg
Editura: Ohio State University Press
Colecția Mad Creek Books
Seria Non/Fiction Collection Prize
Recenzii
“Quade, a poet and creative writing instructor, presents a mixture of travel memoir, philosophical meditation, and environmental ethics class, pondering the many ways she and all of us walk through the world.…A pocket adventure for environmentalists and those who enjoy meditative writing.” —Kirkus
“These passionate, nuanced environmentalist essays are perfect for Barbara Kingsolver fans.” —Rebecca Foster, Shelf Awareness
“Mary Quade is like a girl-guide transcendentalist. She has an unquenchable thirst for natural history—ducklings, milkweed, snake farms—and an unflinching eye for environmental crime. In prose that is like fleshed-out poetry, she elevates the humble and brings great concepts down to earth. Whether at home in Ohio or on an adventure in Michoacán, Vietnam, or the Galápagos, Quade is excellent company. Zoo World is a book to savor.” —Mary Norris, author of Between You & Me: Confessions of a Comma Queen
“Mary Quade is a collector—of insects and injured ducks, of images and memories and facts. Whether wandering a zoo in Vietnam, a beach by Tortuga Bay, some industrial no-man’s-land in Cleveland, or her own backyard, she gathers into her sentences a great many bright and broken findings that, arranged into these artful essays, lovingly illuminate this bright and broken world.” —Donovan Hohn, author of Moby-Duck and The Inner Coast
“A wild ride of a book about the animals in whose midst we live, the animals we eat, and the animals we are—taking us swiftly round the curves and hauling us up each steep ascent before the exhilarating, inevitable plunge that follows.” —Michelle Herman, The Journal Non/Fiction Prize judge and author of Close-Up
“In these stunning and urgent explorations, largely about the (im)balance between the human and nonhuman worlds, Quade writes with the precision of a researcher, the lyricism of a poet (which she is), and a selfless compassion. This extraordinary menagerie of essays is not to be missed.” —Sue William Silverman, author of How to Survive Death and Other Inconveniences
“These passionate, nuanced environmentalist essays are perfect for Barbara Kingsolver fans.” —Rebecca Foster, Shelf Awareness
“Mary Quade is like a girl-guide transcendentalist. She has an unquenchable thirst for natural history—ducklings, milkweed, snake farms—and an unflinching eye for environmental crime. In prose that is like fleshed-out poetry, she elevates the humble and brings great concepts down to earth. Whether at home in Ohio or on an adventure in Michoacán, Vietnam, or the Galápagos, Quade is excellent company. Zoo World is a book to savor.” —Mary Norris, author of Between You & Me: Confessions of a Comma Queen
“Mary Quade is a collector—of insects and injured ducks, of images and memories and facts. Whether wandering a zoo in Vietnam, a beach by Tortuga Bay, some industrial no-man’s-land in Cleveland, or her own backyard, she gathers into her sentences a great many bright and broken findings that, arranged into these artful essays, lovingly illuminate this bright and broken world.” —Donovan Hohn, author of Moby-Duck and The Inner Coast
“A wild ride of a book about the animals in whose midst we live, the animals we eat, and the animals we are—taking us swiftly round the curves and hauling us up each steep ascent before the exhilarating, inevitable plunge that follows.” —Michelle Herman, The Journal Non/Fiction Prize judge and author of Close-Up
“In these stunning and urgent explorations, largely about the (im)balance between the human and nonhuman worlds, Quade writes with the precision of a researcher, the lyricism of a poet (which she is), and a selfless compassion. This extraordinary menagerie of essays is not to be missed.” —Sue William Silverman, author of How to Survive Death and Other Inconveniences
Notă biografică
Mary Quade is the author of the poetry collections Guide to Native Beasts and Local Extinctions. A graduate of the University of Chicago and the University of Iowa Writers’ Workshop, she is a recipient of an Oregon Literary Fellowship and four Ohio Arts Council Individual Excellence Awards for both poetry and creative nonfiction. She teaches creative writing at Hiram College.
Extras
For our sophomore biology collection projects, we had three choices—leaves, fungi, or bugs. The lazy kids chose leaves—no shortage of trees in Wisconsin. The only hard part was pressing the leaves flat. My older sister had done fungi her sophomore year, and for weeks, the house carried the dark-dust smell of spores as she dried her finds in the oven. Only a few of us picked bugs, those with time on our hands to scramble around with our net and lidded glass jar full of cotton balls drenched in ethyl acetate—the killing jar. Notice the -ing, killing. We needed a lot of bugs.
Of course, it wasn't a bug collection. It was an insect collection. Only one insect order-Hemiptera-contains what are called "true bugs," and why they are truer than the others, I don't know. Bed bugs are true bugs. The origin of the word "bug" is unclear. The word "bugger," though, seems to come from the Latin word "Bulgarus," meaning "Bulgarian" or, apparently, "heretic."
I was raised in the Lutheran Church, reciting the Nicene Creed: "We believe in one Lord, Jesus Christ, the only Son of God, eternally begotten of the Father, God from God, Light from Light, true God from true God, begotten, not made, of one Being with the Father." Begetting, the important distinction here. The Nicene Creed was adopted in Nicaea in 325 AD and then revised in 381 AD at the First Council of Constantinople. The original essentially establishes that Jesus and God are on equal footing divinity-wise, and the revision expands on the whole Holy Spirit or Holy Ghost idea, which confuses me to this day.
Unlike the true God, true bugs don't get a capital letter. My favorite insect order isn't Hemiptera, though I do love cicadas, with their bulgy eyes and buzzing. As nymphs, cicadas suck on tree sap. Depending on the species, they can suck for two to seventeen years before they crawl out of the ground and up trees and discard their old skins. As kids, my sister and I would collect the root-beer-brown husks left stuck to tree bark after the shedding, crisp shells with the shape of the body intact, but split open from head to back where the adult emerged. We kept them piled in baskets on our dressers, the little hollow legs still clasping.
In order to get an A on the bug collection, we had to gather a certain number of insects representing a range of orders. I don't remember what the number was, but I do remember that I was determined to get an A, because I was an A student, and A students need to get As. Once we caught and killed the bugs, we were to mount them by piercing their bodies with pins and sticking them on a sheet of cardboard so that they would float above the surface, a host of shining exoskeletons.
Of course, it wasn't a bug collection. It was an insect collection. Only one insect order-Hemiptera-contains what are called "true bugs," and why they are truer than the others, I don't know. Bed bugs are true bugs. The origin of the word "bug" is unclear. The word "bugger," though, seems to come from the Latin word "Bulgarus," meaning "Bulgarian" or, apparently, "heretic."
I was raised in the Lutheran Church, reciting the Nicene Creed: "We believe in one Lord, Jesus Christ, the only Son of God, eternally begotten of the Father, God from God, Light from Light, true God from true God, begotten, not made, of one Being with the Father." Begetting, the important distinction here. The Nicene Creed was adopted in Nicaea in 325 AD and then revised in 381 AD at the First Council of Constantinople. The original essentially establishes that Jesus and God are on equal footing divinity-wise, and the revision expands on the whole Holy Spirit or Holy Ghost idea, which confuses me to this day.
Unlike the true God, true bugs don't get a capital letter. My favorite insect order isn't Hemiptera, though I do love cicadas, with their bulgy eyes and buzzing. As nymphs, cicadas suck on tree sap. Depending on the species, they can suck for two to seventeen years before they crawl out of the ground and up trees and discard their old skins. As kids, my sister and I would collect the root-beer-brown husks left stuck to tree bark after the shedding, crisp shells with the shape of the body intact, but split open from head to back where the adult emerged. We kept them piled in baskets on our dressers, the little hollow legs still clasping.
In order to get an A on the bug collection, we had to gather a certain number of insects representing a range of orders. I don't remember what the number was, but I do remember that I was determined to get an A, because I was an A student, and A students need to get As. Once we caught and killed the bugs, we were to mount them by piercing their bodies with pins and sticking them on a sheet of cardboard so that they would float above the surface, a host of shining exoskeletons.
Cuprins
Hatch
The Box
The Collection
Project Monarch
Songs of the Humpback Whale
The Galápagos Shooting Gallery
Cage
Zoo World
In the Classroom
Patas
Paradise, Earth
Fonoteca Nacional: Memoria de Otro Tiempo Sonora, Coyoacán, Mexico City
Gall
In Harmony with Nature
Steel: Products of Cleveland
The Box
The Collection
Project Monarch
Songs of the Humpback Whale
The Galápagos Shooting Gallery
Cage
Zoo World
In the Classroom
Patas
Paradise, Earth
Fonoteca Nacional: Memoria de Otro Tiempo Sonora, Coyoacán, Mexico City
Gall
In Harmony with Nature
Steel: Products of Cleveland
Descriere
Melds travel and nature writing to explore humans’ attempts at redemption for violence they have visited upon the world, each other, and other species.