Reviews for Bird in the Bush: A Social History of Birdwatching

The average rating for Bird in the Bush: A Social History of Birdwatching based on 2 reviews is 4.5 stars.

Review # 1 was written on 2016-10-02 00:00:00 Kevin King This is an excellent British companion to Scott Weidensaul's Of a Feather, which covers the history of birding in the US. If anything I think this one is better, as it focuses a little less on the heroes and instead spreads its attention across a wider array of characters, so many that you can't really focus on them if you don't already know them, which was fine by me. I think my main critique of this book is that it didn't pursue this kind of history more, painting a picture that's somewhat skewed toward the extreme hobbyist form of birding and less on the larger trends that fueled some of the enormous book and bird food sales cited. A statistical history would be less readable, but I think at least a little quantitative analysis would have helped. I'm personally less interested in why someone would try to break the record for most species seen in a year than in why (or if) large numbers of people really go out every weekend to look at birds. Despite the enthusiasm of Moss, Weidensaul, and I suspect others, I'm not convinced birding is really that popular. Less niche than stamp-collecting, but way more niche than yoga, right? I think one of the main conclusions from Weidensaul and Moss is that birding, i.e. looking at birds for fun, is largely tied to leisure. You need time and money to do it, and the more people have time and money to spare, the more some of them get into birding. Wealth helps, since a car and good optics don't come cheap, but I feel like time is the big driver. I guess what I want to learn now is what kind of cultural and psychological forces impel those who do have the time to bird instead of the million other things they could be doing with their time. Biophilia, filling the religion gap, not bowling alone, etc. Regardless, this is a well-researched (albeit biased), very readable history that I'd recommend to anyone interested in the subject. Even if it omits the story of the average birder, the material it covers is also critical and interesting. My highly biased collection of notes: p. 10 "Most importantly of all, White, Bewick, Montagu, and Clare found a connection between human beings and nature at the very moment when a dislocation between man and the natural world was beginning to occur." Oh so western, so dichotomous, so Cartesian. One of many Old School concepts underlying this book. p. 13 "White's crucial insight was that [...] watching wildlife can also have an aesthetic and spiritual dimension." Not original, though maybe original in written western history (though probably not). Still, a good place to start. p. 30 "It appears that even when watching birds was ingrained in the culture of a society, the impulse to make an accurate observation still occasionally rose to the surface." Again, maddeningly tied to written history and confirmation bias. p. 38 Many European common names just got applied to unrelated American birds, e.g. robins, blackbirds, etc. The same thing happens with mushrooms, but with mushrooms this lumping attitude extended to scientific descriptions. Maybe b/c mushrooms don't preserve as well. Easier to tell the difference between an American Robin and a Eurasian Robin than it is between American chanterelles and European chanterelles. p. 44 "To be a good collector, and nothing more, is a small affair; great skill may be acquired in the art, without a single quality commanding respect" (Elliot Coues, Handbook of Field and General Ornithology, 1890, p. 15). Coues comes off as one of the biggest a-holes in the history of birding, as he does in Weidensaul, but the expanded quote is a bit more forgivable: One of the most vulgar, brutal, and ignorant men I ever knew was a sharp collector and an excellent taxidermist. Collecting stands much in the same relation to ornithology that the useful and indispensable office of an apothecary bears to the duties of a physician. A field-naturalist is always more or less of a collector; the latter is sometimes found to know almost nothing of natural history worth knowing. The true ornithologist goes out to study birds alive and destroys some of them simply because that is the only way of learning their structure and technical characters. There is much more about a bird than can be discovered in its dead body, — how much more, then, than can be found out from its stuffed skin! In my humble opinion the man who only gathers birds, as a miser money, to swell his cabinet, and that other man who gloats, as miser-like, over the same hoard, both work on a plane far beneath where the enlightened naturalist stands. One looks at Nature, and never knows that she is beautiful ; the other knows she is beautiful, as even a corpse may be; the naturalist catches her sentient expression, and knows how beautiful she is! I would have you to know and love her; for fairer mistress never swayed the heart of man. Aim high! — press on, and leave the half-way house of mere collectorship far behind in your pursuit of a delightful study, nor fancy the closet its goal. p. 62 Uses the popularity of Muir's books as evidence of Americans' interest in the outdoors. Weidensaul also used book sales as a proxy for public interest, but is it really worth using? Surely this only measures the interests of a) the literate, and b) those willing to utilize their literacy. p. 75 "The last British record (of a Great Auk) was from St. Kilda, where a bird was captured and killed in 1840 by islanders who thought it was a witch" p. 79 "In just one or two generation, from the middle to the end of the nineteenth century, Americans had moved from the 'wild west' to the streets and avenues of the big city. In the process, their attitude had changed, from the insecure 'frontier mentality' of the pioneers, to the more mature, sophisticated ethos of the modern city dweller." Yet another example of the author's elitism and bias. p. 88 Supposedly the first time the phrase "bird watching" appeared in print was in the 1901 "Bird Watching" by Edward Selous. Moss quotes the following mainly to point out how ridiculous Selous was: If life is, as some hold it to be, a vast melancholy ocean over which ships more or less sorrow-laden continually pass and ply, yet there lie here and there upon it isles of consolation on to which we may step out and for a time forget the winds and waves. One of these we may call Bird-isle — the island of watching and being entertained by the habits and humours of birds — and upon this one, for with the others I have here nothing to do, I will straightway land, inviting such as may care to, to follow me. I will speak of birds only, or almost only, as I have seen them, and I must hope that this plan, which is the only one I have found myself able to follow, will be accepted as an apology for the absence of much which, not having seen but only read of, I therefore say nothing about. [] However, he's also got this neurotic gem that should be especially pleasing to those of us from iNaturalist, where we are all about "observations": It matters not how one may limit it, the word "Observations" has a terrific sound. Let a man say merely that he watched a robin (for instance) doing something, and no one will shrink from him; but if he talks about his "Observations on the Robin - Redbreast" then, let these have been ever so restricted, and even though he may forbear to call the bird by its Latin name, he must expect to pay the penalty. The very limitations will have something severe — smacking of precise scientific distinction — about them, and the implied preference for English in such a case will appear affected and to be a clumsy attempt, merely, to make himself popular. Therefore, I will not call my book " Observations on," etc. I have watched birds only, I have not observed them. [p. X] p. 108 Edward Grey was not only the British Foreign secretary just prior to WWI, but also an ardent birder who birded at least once with Teddy Roosevelt. He wrote The Charm of Birds in 1927 and it was a bestseller in the UK. Moss includes this exceedingly iNat-relevant excerpt: This book will have no scientific value. Those who have studied birds will not find in it anything that they do not already know; those who do not care for birds will not be interested in the subject [...]. My observations have been made for recreation; in search of pleasure, not of knowledge; and they have been pursued only in so far as the[y] ministered to the pleasure of holidays and home life [...]. One who reviews pleasant experiences and puts them on record increases the value of them to himself; he fathers up his own feelings and reflections, and is thereby better able to understand and to measure the fullness of what he has enjoyed. Thus even those of us who have nothing new to tell, may have something that is fresh to say. p. 130 One of the more hilarious and/or embarrassing aspects of birding is the frequent and apparently coincidental adoption in US popular culture of bird-related words for sexual slang. "Bird" itself is, of course, the most obvious to fans of old movies but we've also got Great Tits, Brown Boobies, a bird called a Dickcissel, and innumerable references to breasts and rumps for the purposes of identification. In fact, deploying the infinite array of bedraggled and entirely unavoidable sexual puns in the process of birding is, in my opinion, usually a sign that you're having a good time with birders you actually like. BUT, in my mind the most annoying, egregious, and too-often-un-self-consciously used bird word is "jizz." Yes, non-birding friends, we birders sometimes refer to the "jizz" of a bird, by which we mean its general impression, some nebulous aspect of its appearance or movement that allows us to identify it even if we can't exactly articulate why. I've always assumed it was an abbreviation for "gestalt," but Moss attributes it to T.A. Coward, who devotes a short chapter to the word in his 1922 Bird Haunts and Nature Memories, and who in turn attributes its usage within birding to west Irishmen. Interestingly, its use in American slang might have similar Irish origins. Regardless, the word has been around for a while, so maybe I should just relax. If you want some more fun reading material to leave on your screen at work, check out p. 135 Roger Tory Peterson apparently used his field guide illustration technique to create plane-spotting manuals for the military during WWII, but I can't find any examples of them online. If you find some, please let me know! p. 144 Eric Hoskings was one of the first bird photographers. He also lost eye after being attacked by an owl whose nest he was trying to photograph. He entitled his autobiography "An Eye for a Bird" p. 146 personal cars were huge for birding, but they also created sprawl and habitat destruction p. 157 Apparently several brits birded in German POW camps, but it didn't seem typical p. 192 Yet another scientist criticizing birding for pleasure: "Non-scientific bird-watching is not splendid and adventurous bird-watching: it is simply lazy, incompetent and slovenly bird-watching." Revd. P.H.T. Hartley, "Back Garden Ornithology," 1954. p. 194 Brilliant advice on how to antagonize your two most common kinds of birders, courtesy of Stephen Potter in an article for Bird Notes entitled "Birdsmanship" (haven't been able to find it online): Find our your potential rival's line, and play the opposite for all you're worth. Thus, if he is an acknowledged tally-hunter, you must use the scientific gambit, 'After all, it's only the common birds that really count, isn't it?' and continually hold up the party by calling their attention to Robins or House Sparrows... If after five minutes observation the Robin gives a perfunctory peck at its plumage, you murmur, 'Ah, an intention movement!' make profuse notes, and add, to the air in general, 'I must write to Tinbergen about this.' A slight hesitation before the Tinbergen should make it clear that among your real associates you would say 'Niko'. On the other hand, if your rival is a serious ornithologist... you cry 'I'm frankly pot-hunting today; leave the sparrows alone for once, old chap and come and see some real birds! Tally-ho!'... You should manage to convince the party that your rival is an introverted spoil-sport living in an ivory tower. p. 207 At least twice in this book Moss takes the time to cite an anecdote depicting Roger Tory Peterson as a consummate bore, incapable of appreciating or even considering non-avian subjects. p. 230 In the pre-Internet days of the 60s, birding clubs were important ways to get intel AND rides, since not everyone had a car. Information is easily come by today, of course, but cars less so. Is it time for clubs again? p. 259 "I've managed 49 years without a White's Thrush. I doubt if I could last a month without Mozart." Bryan Bland. p. 269 Sources the phrase "dip out" (i.e. to miss seeing a bird you were seeking) to 60s and 70s UK. Now that I think of it, I only know of one person who consistently uses that phrase.

Review # 2 was written on 2012-11-14 00:00:00 Russell Palatianos Subtitled A Social History of Birdwatching, this is an informative and entertaining look at the history of birdwatching and humans' overall relationship with birds. The book looks at how our relationships with birds has changed from the early predator prey relationship through the Victorian era's obsession with shooting, collecting and either exhibiting or wearing birds to the current obsession of many birdwatchers to travel to as many remote places as possible for the sake of ticking as many species of birds off on a list. It also profiles the antagonism between these birdwatchers (also known as twitchers) and those who choose to concentrate on getting to know more common species in their local area. (A personal note - I'm not at all a twitcher, but I am very happy that my local area includes two places where I can regularly see less common birds and sometimes real rarities). Along the way Moss looks at well known bird artists and writers and the development of bird conservation, including the history of the RSPB (Royal Society for the Protection of Birds) from its roots as a group of middle aged women from a Manchester suburb who campaigned to stop birds being killed for the use of their feathers in hats to the current successful campaigning body with well over a million members. The book is full of entertaining stories about birdwatchers and birds and overflows with enthusiasm for the subject. If you're a birdwatcher you'll be totally engrossed and any non-birdwatchers will hopefully be set on the road to at least understanding those of us who are, if not taking up the pastime themselves!