Jackie French is the Australian Children's Laureate and a super-prolific writer of over 115 books: numerous children's and teen novels and series, picJackie French is the Australian Children's Laureate and a super-prolific writer of over 115 books: numerous children's and teen novels and series, picture books (my favourite is still Diary of a Wombat), adult novels (general and historical) and non-fiction for adults and children. Her work is often concerned with the truth of Australian Aboriginal heritage and contemporary circumstances, with history that's been forgotten, wilfully misunderstood or deliberately shunned, and a deep and abiding love and respect for the land.
All of these things come together in this brilliant, superbly-written account of Australia's formation as a nation, our attitude and 'care' of the land, and our myth-making. Centred around the thesis that the land makes a nation, especially this one, French delves into several topics with a fine eye, a sense of humour and a critical approach to farming and mining practices.
I have always believed that Australians - both Indiginous (which would seem obvious) and 'white' Australians - are and have been shaped by the land. That all the stereotypes associated with Australians - from the positive (laconic and irreverent sense of humour; self-deprecating abhorrence of 'tall poppies'; community spirit and neighbourliness; bravery and courage; hard-working; laid-back and easy-going; innovative; friendly and welcoming) to the negative (racist etc.) - have their roots in our relationship with the land and what it takes to survive here, whether you adapt to it as the Aboriginals did, or whether you try to mould it into a semblance of an English pastoral landscape as the British did. This understanding started to form when I was studying for my undergrad many years ago; Let the Land Speak confirms and explains it.
There was so much to learn here. So many things I had never studied properly, or hadn't learned about in so long I could barely remember anything about them (Gallipoli, for example), or had never really known anything about at all (the Eureka Stockade). French brings it all to life and writes an unflinchingly realistic account that wouldn't have been welcomed even thirty years ago. Aboriginals, like Asians, weren't even human; the world had been provided to us by God to do with as we will (such arrogance still survives today, but few people will admit it); our victim-hood at Gallipoli is more important to focus on than the fact that we were the invaders; Joseph Banks was a great man; Aboriginals didn't farm or have any impact on the land - these are just a few of the common understandings that have been around for a long time. Let the Land Speak is the best kind of history book, because it allows you to see history being made - not the events themselves, but how they're disseminated, recorded, passed down, understood and misunderstood. French's book shows quite clearly not just how important and necessary the study of history is, but just how far from the truth kids' common understanding (that history is about memorising facts and dates) truly is. Also, you can almost see French's keen historical mind at work as she investigates, uncovers, links and connects details and context to form a likely account.
Mixed in with history and an examination of contemporary agriculture and mining practices are short snippets, stories and anecdotes from French's own experience, that truly bring the book to life. It is this contextualisation and authorial presence that really makes the book accessible, relateable, fascinating and almost intimate. The idea that historians have no bias or angle or perspective has never been true, but you rarely get to see it. Jackie French makes free with hers, not only using a few of her own experiences with Aboriginal people to flesh out her - and our - understanding of their culture and lifestyle, but also using the place of her home, the Araluen Valley in NSW, as an example of one of thousands of micro-climates and micro-landscapes in Australia. The detailing of how gold mining, farming, drought and wildlife interact and affect this one valley is an example of what can occur, but it also serves to illustrate just how varied and diverse the landscape is. One of French's persistent calls is for us to stop seeing the land as a "One size fits all" landscape. We continue to view Australia through a British lens, seeing a uniform landscape everywhere we look. Even here in Tasmania, an island state that has rainforest, alpine climes, hot and dry areas and misty, frosty regions, people still tend to think that what works in one area will work in another, that what is native to one place is, by default, native to all.
Perhaps the most alarming moment for me was in learning about 'firestick farming' - a misunderstood Indigenous technique that "has led to disastrous bushfire strategies" [p.5]. The 'myth that the land must burn' to protect us, to rejuvenate and replenish is a dangerous one because it is applied across the board, and by people who don't really understand it - or what they're burning. What I learned from Let the Land Speak is that, alongside our fire-dependent ecosystem (the one we've all heard about, and assume is a blanket case for al bushfire-vulnerable areas), we have 'fire-resistant' areas, the kinds of trees and plants that can actually halt a bushfire - but if aggressively burned, will be replaced by a fire-dependent ecosystem.
So called 'controlled' burning has created fire-dependent forests. Ironically, large parts of Australia are now far more prone to bushfire, all in the name of trying to reduce it. Once you have created a fire-dependent landscape, it does need burning to reduce the fuel load. But even in these areas the wrong kind of burning increases the risk of uncontrolled bushfire, it doesn't decrease it. In fire-dependent areas, burning in the wrong way and at the wrong time can leave dead wood that will make a bushfire burn hotter, as well as encourage grass growth that may dry like tinder in summer.
'The bush' is not homogenous. Even in a small area of, say, fifty hectares there may be several forest types, with different burning regimes needed to maintain them. Most fire agencies try to control burn on a regional basis, ticking off a certain number of hectares each year. In doing so they are making the bushfire danger far greater, creating larger areas that burn easily because the only plants that survive are the fire-dependent ones that burn hard, fast and often. [pp.56-7]
Since reading this, I have felt moments of panic when I hear people talking - sounding so reassuring and knowledgeable, too - about controlled burning and preventing bushfires. I want to jump up and grab them and shout, "Don't! Just stop a moment, let's think more carefully about this. Don't do it so you can look like you're doing something! How many people, Aboriginal or others, do you employ who understand the landscapes in each area?" Just this week, bushfires have wiped out large areas of South Australia, close to Adelaide, and Victoria. While most big bushfires are deliberately started by idiots, the way they get so out-of-control, so big, so hungry, so quickly could be a much larger problem, and one we need to look at closely before we make it even worse.
In fact, that is an on-going pattern of Australia since the arrival of the British. French does well in explaining their context and reasoning, without diminishing the repercussions. Let's face it: we've fucked up this land good and proper. Landcare wasn't established until the 80s and while it's done a lot, it's not enough. French sheds some light on why we persist, as a nation, a government, a culture, an economy, to focus on mining and agriculture - but mining especially - as a source of wealth even though it isn't one. It ties back to the centuries-old belief among European nations that there existed, somewhere in the vast unmapped Southern oceans, a vast land of gold. It was an entrenched belief, an unfounded certainty, that means we're still looking for some kind of untapped wealth. Gold mining here doesn't bring in much money, in reality, and uses mind-boggling amounts of water (yes, in a country that really doesn't have any to spare), yet we keep on opening new mines. Australia is a country founded on, in French's words, 'five hundred years of misunderstandings' - and many of these persist. We are still determined to farm as if this was England, just on a larger scale, and - this is one of my pet peeves - we build stupid houses poorly designed for the climate, then spend extra money heating and cooling them (interestingly, older houses - with thick walls, high ceilings, verandahs and, in the case of Queensland, raised up on stilts to allow for floodwaters to pass by as well as air to circulate and cool the house - are better built for this climate and landscape than all the houses I see around me on a daily basis).
French covers a great deal in Let the Land Speak, and while this is a history book like most history books in the sense that it is humans who are the focus much of the time, the land of this continent really is given a voice. More specifically, French ties everything back to the land, to the land that shaped us. From the interesting explanation of why the continent wasn't settled prior to the First Fleet, despite it having been 'discovered' and partially mapped so many times before Cook, to the big drought of the late 19th to early 20th century that brought the states together into a single country, at the end of the day the land itself is the dominant force here. The book covers the following topics:
Introduction: the goat droppings that changed history 1 The real First Fleet 2 The Ice Age that made three hundred nations 3 Cooperate or die 4 The women who made the land 5 Terra incognita: Dreams of gold, and a land without grass 6 The goat, the grocer's assistant and the mistake that led to a nation 7 The colony that didn't starve 8 The second, third and fourth Australians 9 The lost tigers and the sheep that ate Australia 10 How we almost won Eureka 11 The history of our nation in a pumpkin scone 12 How a drought made us one nation 13 Truth or propaganda? The bronzed Anzacs of Gallipoli and Kokoda 14 A land of flooding rain 15 A short history of great big farming misunderstandings 16 This generous land: Terrapaths, moral omnivores and how to survive the next millennia 17 The next hundred years: Twenty-four predictions
The first four chapters cover Indigenous Australian habitation, from the arrival of the first humans to how the women shaped the land - all of it fascinating. As much as I love this land right down to the marrow of my bones, and feel so incredibly at home here, I still often feel like an invader, trampling and contributing to the destruction or ill-use of an ancient and fragile land of which I understand too little, while the 'original' inhabitants can only watch, made voiceless and toothless. I am empathetic enough to feel what it must be like for me as a privileged white to have some other, alien being muscle in, evict me, and clumsily try to apply alien farming and food-gathering techniques to a land they don't understand. Between the inability to communicate and the ingrained belief that the natives are subhuman, or not human at all, why would the invaders even think to ask them about the land, or seek their help and advice? It's a common theme throughout modern Australian history and storytelling, this blind arrogance and fear that in seeking Aboriginal assistance, you acknowledge your trespasser status, your ignorance, your wrong-doing. It is this instinctual, ingrained but silenced, denied and terrified knowledge that have done wrong and continue to do wrong that is behind our incredible racism towards the Aboriginals. We all have it, this niggle, this tiny spike right in the cockles of our hearts, that we are born with, that we are in the wrong, that we are invaders, that we have harmed the land - it unites us as much as anything the land can throw at us, but as long as it stays there rather than be drawn out like a splinter from a pus-filled abscess, it will continue to fester, we will continue along the path we have trodden down to bare dust, and nothing will change.
I have to confess, I skimmed through the final chapter of this book. I wouldn't normally do such a thing, but I found French's 24 predictions to be so dispiriting, scary, pessimistic and depressing that I just couldn't read them all. The sad truth is, this book isn't and won't be required or even popular reading, it will be shunned and dismissed by conservatives, and merely stoke the ire of "true blue Aussies" who don't like their personal beliefs in our myths to be confronted. And it's a damn shame. This is a book I must and will read again, and again. It not only taught me a lot, opened my eyes to new understandings and truths, but it also reinvigorated my love for this land and its peoples - all of us, all us 'boat people'. I would like nothing more than if this book became seminal - if it influenced future policy or changed attitudes etc. But I know Australians. We have such a great life here, we don't like change, we want to achieve a level of comfort and then stay there. Like most people in the world, we hang on to our prior understandings of our world, and the older we get, the more dogmatic and bigoted we become. At the end of the book, I realised anew just how little I know and understand about my land, my country and continent. I can't name the bird making that song, apart from the obvious few (kookaburra, magpie, plover etc.). I'm no good at identifying trees or plants. I don't know enough about the different climates and ecosystems. I only recently learned that quolls ate meat! Shameful. I've got a lot to learn, and this book was a fantastic place to start. ...more
This short little book explores the largely incomplete history of today's iconic Christmas tree. As Brunner puts it, "What drove people to go off intoThis short little book explores the largely incomplete history of today's iconic Christmas tree. As Brunner puts it, "What drove people to go off into the forest, chop down a tree, put it in their house, and decorate it in the first place? Is it really just a pagan remnant - as conventional wisdom has it - or is the history behind it more complex? What is the symbolic message it conveys?" [p.3]
As German writer Brunner digs deep into the few records and vague accounts of the tree, it quickly becomes clear that there's no definite answer, no straight-forward path to the origins of the Christmas tree, no pivotal moment - nothing as clear-cut as, say, Coca-Cola's dressing of Santa Claus in red and white for their advertising, something we've been stuck with ever since.
Still, I had thought that, Christianity co-opting a pagan festival at the winter solstice just as they did for Easter, that the tree must go way back and have some quietly profound meaning. Let's just say, I was hoping to hear that, because it would have been so interesting. I was also remembering that British TV show where a group of people went off the grid and lived exactly as people lived in the middle ages, from the food they cooked and how, to building their own homes with the tools they would have had etc. I remember seeing the episode around Christmas time and they made a feast and brought in greenery to decorate the house, and I think there was some mention of superstitions. Brunner does delve into some of the superstitions, but often they were superstitions against having a tree in the house.
In fact, according to Brunner, the Catholic church was the last denomination to embrace the Christmas tree - for the longest time, they outright denounced it. It seems that, by and large, the Christmas tree came together in an adhoc manner, originating in certain parts of Germany, and it is a natural evolution of our deep connection to the natural world, no matter how industrial and computerised we become.
The attraction of all things green, colorful, and glittering in the cold season is elemental. Green has long been considered the color of hope, and midwinter greenery was thought to radiate and summon vitality and fertility, to keep harm at bay. The custom of celebrating the changing year with greenery was already known among the Romans, who used bay branches. In the fourth century, Saint Ephrem the Syrian reported that houses were decorated with wreaths for the festival on January 6. Medieval sources mention evergreen branches, with sharp needles, fastened to the door of the house or hung in the home. Demons, witches, lightning, and disease - they believed - were powerless in the face of this life force. [p.12]
According to Brunner's digging into historical records, the Christmas tree is quite the modern invention, one that didn't really take root until the 19th century - so it's not near as old as I'd imagined. The details of the early versions of the trees is quite fascinating, especially the mechanised trees under which nativity scenes or other decorations were placed. Later, the practice of putting presents under the trees evolved. They used to put real candles in the branches, and house fires were unsurprisingly common at that time of year. There are lots of interesting little details in this book, along with some colour plates and other reproductions of paintings in which early versions of the Christmas tree figure.
Brunner does some solid research here, and his writing - translated as it is - is smooth and clear. He doesn't have that personable, charismatic or charming quality that goes so well with popular non-fiction: he can be a bit dry at times, though perhaps you can only write as interestingly as your subject-matter. There was only one moment of humour, and the lack of historical documentation to support research into the Christmas tree was disappointing. But not Brunner's fault. He did an admirable job of picking out descriptions and other details of its origins and metamorphosis from old novels, newspapers, advertisements, public announcements and various other sources. It was me who was disappointed, that something I love so much should have had such ordinary beginnings, and could just as easily have disappeared as quietly as it had arrived.
It will only take a few hours out of your day to read about the history of the Christmas tree, but it it well worth it. If nothing else, it fills the little gap of ignorance in your head that is always there when we think about Christmas trees - and I love filling the many little holes of ignorance that exist in my knowledge, and understanding the history of things helps me understand the world I live in better. ...more
In Tropic of Chaos, American investigative journalist Christian Parenti looks into the "catastrophic convergence of poverty, violence and climate chanIn Tropic of Chaos, American investigative journalist Christian Parenti looks into the "catastrophic convergence of poverty, violence and climate change" (p.5), studying the near history of regions between the Tropic of Capricorn and the Tropic of Cancer, "a belt of economically and politically battered post-colonial states girding the planet's mid-latitudes. In this band, around the tropics, climate change is beginning to hit hard. The Societies in this belt are also heavily dependent on agriculture and fishing, thus very vulnerable to shifts in weather patterns. This region was also on the front lines of the Cold War and of neoliberal economic restructuring. As a result, in this belt we find clustered most of the failed and semifailed sates of the developing world." [p.9] Parenti is connecting the dots to show not only how climate change is affecting these areas but also to predict what is coming, and how the Global North will most likely react, and what it could be doing instead.
Narrowing the focus onto several specific countries or areas - notably East Africa, Afghanistan, India, Pakistan, Kyrgyzstan, Brazil, Mexico and the United States -Parenti shows how climate change is affecting water, food production and the human populations, clearly delineating the link between environment and violence. But it's not just about climate change and people struggling to survive: it's also about the West's - or Global North's - reaction to violence and climate change (the two, in this book, are inextricably linked) which in turn is linked to our history of neo-liberal economic policy, the Cold War, and the new methods of counter-insurgency (COIN).
Sometimes these forces have worked together simultaneously; at other times they have been quite distinct. For example, Somalia was destroyed by Cold War military interventions interventions. It became a classic proxy battleground. Though it underwent some limited economic liberalization, its use as a pawn on the chessboard of global political struggle caused its collapse. The same holds true for Afghanistan, which was, and still is, a failed state. It never underwent structural adjustment but was a proxy battleground. On the other hand, Mexico, the north of which is now experiencing a profound violent crisis, was not a frontline state during the Cold War, but it was subject to radical economic liberalization.
Climate change now joins these crises, acting as an accelerant. The Pentagon calls it a "threat multiplier." All across the planet, extreme weather and water scarcity now inflame and escalate existing social conflicts. [pp.8-9]
He begins with the question: Who killed Ekaru Loruman? Loruman was cattle herder of the Turkana, a tribe who inhabit the plains area of what we call northern Kenya. A rival tribe who live in the arid hills routinely ride down with guns and steal cattle, the Turkana's livelihood, and Loruman was killed during one such raid. The question of who killed him isn't, of course, about pointing the finger at the man who shot him, but the much bigger issue of why this is happening at all. From there, Parenti explores the region in more detail, tying it to U.S. politics and history - a similar pattern is used to delve into other countries in the "Tropic of Chaos".
This is by its very nature a hard book to summarise and an even harder one to review. All I can really do is give you my thoughts so you can consider whether this would be a good book for you to read, as well. By that I simply mean, how well written it is. I found that the level of Parenti's writing depends quite a bit on prior knowledge, and I didn't always have enough, thus it was at times a difficult read that moved a bit too fast for me. If I hadn't read books like Maude Barlow's Blue Covenant, about the global water crisis, and Naomi Klein's The Shock Doctrine, which is a phenomenal book about neo-liberal economics ("Chicago School" economics) and shock tactics implemented in developing countries, I would have really struggled here. His writing presumes upon a reader with a very sound understanding of history, economic policy and remote regions of the world. There are a few things I would have liked to help me get the most out of this book; I wouldn't have minded if it had been an extra 50 pages long to add more flesh to the areas, to explain the economics a bit more, and to have included more detailed maps than the ones used - maps are only of countries in an area, but the chapter discusses regions, valleys, border zones etc. and I had no real idea of where these were placed in relation to each other and other countries, and I'm the kind of person who likes to study a map so I can better visualise an area. It would have been particularly helpful in discussing Kashmir and Brazil.
But I did learn a lot from this book, as well. It certainly built upon prior knowledge and understanding, and I appreciated the simple breakdown of what the science of climate change really is: our fossil fuels have
boosted atmospheric concentrations of carbon dioxide (CO2) from around 280 parts per million (ppm) before the Industrial Revolution to 390 ppm today. Analyses of ancient ice cores show 390 ppm to be the highest atmospheric concentration of CO2 during the last 10,000 years.
Atmospheric CO2 functions like the glass in a greenhouse, allowing the sun's heat in but preventing much of it from radiating back out to space. We need atmospheric CO2 - without it, Earth would be an ice-cold, lifeless rock. However, over the last 150 years we have been loading the sky with far too much CO2, and the planet is heating up. [p.5]
We've all heard about the 2°C rise in temperatures spelling catastrophe, but it's hard to take a mere 2 degrees seriously when day by day, our temperatures rise and fall and vary dramatically. To put it into perspective, if the world cooled by 2 degrees centigrade, Earth would be in another ice age. So 2 degrees is actually very extreme for the planet. That comparison really helped me get a grasp of how important two seemingly small degrees are, though I still don't really understand - and it wasn't covered here - how we'll know when that happens. I mean, will it be drastic melting of all our glaciers and ice sheets, or will meteorologists and climate change scientists be able to say, "We've now reached the point where the Earth's temperature is hotter by 2 degrees." How do they measure the Earth's temperature? These are questions for a different book, I know, but no one ever mentions it so it bugs me.
The chapters on Afghanistan and the relationship between Pakistan and India were illuminating, and explains much of why the region is so unstable - and who gains from it and why. The chapter about India's drought, neo-liberal economic policies, and the cotton trade really jumped out at me, because it just seems so ... indicative.
Starting in 1991 the Indian government began a process of economic liberalization. Efficiency became the watchword; the state cut power subsidies to farmers. With that, running pumps for wells and irrigation became more expensive. To cope, farmers started taking loans from local banks or usurious moneylenders. The neoliberal withdrawal of developmentalist policies meant that local irrigation systems fell into dilapidation. [...] By the late 1990s, many farmers had run out of options - they were too far in arrears to borrow more, too broke to produce crops. For thousands, the only escape from this debt trap came in the form of suicide - often by swallowing pesticides. [p.143]
Another cause of debt is seed purchase. The zenith of this trap is Monsanto's genetically modified Bt cotton. [...] A government-owned company [...] provided financing and guidance, and yields did increase, essentially during the 1960s. These yields, however, were a function of greater capital investment. Farmers required more capital to buy fertilizer, pesticides, irrigation piping, and machinery. Thus, debts rose along with output.
Soon cotton became one of the main crops. Now the issue was no longer food scarcity but instead victory and profit on the international commodity markets. Very problematically, cotton also needs large amounts of water. Within a decade yields began to drop as the soil was stripped of its nutrients and poisoned by pesticides. The only solution for many farmers was to double down: borrow more and invest more, use more technology, take on more debt.
[...] With the rise of capital-intensive cotton farming in Telangana over the last thirty years, two strange contradictions have arisen. First, the primary cash crop, cotton, continues to decline in value; yet, farmers continue to plant more of it. Why do the farmers not shift to other crops? Second, while the region's overall growth in agricultural output has been robust ... the incomes and consumption of most farmers have declined precipitously, and this manifests as farmers' suicides and support for the Naxals [rebel group fighting the gov't]. The question now becomes: Why do farmers go into debt so as to plant a crop (cotton) for which the price is falling? [pp.142-6]
The answer is surprisingly simple, and all the more scary for it: the moneylenders, who for all intents and purposes own the farmers, demand that the farmers plant cotton because in a bad year, farmers can't eat cotton, they must sell it. The money from the sale goes to the moneylenders, which is why farmers have no capital. The farmers have no choice but to plant cotton, which also means they can't escape debt because cotton doesn't bring in enough money.
And on top of that, even the poorest, least educated peasant farmers in Afghanistan and India fully understand that the soil is being severely depleted of all nutrients by this kind of farming, yet they have no choice. The lesson is really that, while it seems like the things happening half a world away have really got nothing to do with us, sitting comfortably in our sturdy homes with our TVs and computers and flushing toilets, on our clean streets in our (comparably) well-managed cities, what the Indian cotton farmers and the Afghan opium and wheat farmers, as well as the Mexicans trying to cross the border into the U.S. and the Kenyan tribesmen guarding their cattle, it ALL has to do with us. "Globilisation" is really just a new word for colonialism, or so it seems to me, and if you're going to have "free trade" and "global markets" etc., you have to take some responsibility. But no one cares, as long as they make their extra several million dollars' profit which they hoard in an off-shore account, or in the stock market or perhaps a hedge fund which doesn't actually produce anything.
Other illuminating parts of the book include the Mexico-U.S. border and what's really going on there - I read that chapter just days before watching one of those Republican presidential debates (the South Carolina one) and when they got talking about the border and rounding up the illegal aliens, having the extra knowledge and understanding really changed the way I heard their words - from general rabid frothing-at-the-mouth to the larger point Parenti is trying to make - with a dash of desperation, or so it sounds to me. This is the part about counter-insurgency (COIN) and violent adaptation to climate change. Countries like the U.S. are gearing up for climate change, but not in the way you might hope. Instead, they're preparing to create a fortress where the climate refugees (which is what the increased in Mexicans and South Americans at their border really are) are kept out and the true-blue Americans are safe within. They're preparing to simply man the gates, not mitigate climate change but simply make everyone else pay the price for their giant "gas-guzzling SUVs", as I hear people call them.
It's not all doom-and-gloom, but Tropic of Chaos isn't about cutting greenhouse gas emissions, it's about the effects of climate change on the poorest regions, on countries struggling to bring themselves out of debt and who are faced with increasingly unpredictable weather patterns as well as dominating neo-liberal economic policy - even when they've broken ties with the World Bank and IMF, the after-effects of such policies resound for decades. Tiny land-locked Bolivia was like a ray of sunshine in the book, proving that a good balance of sound economic policy, government regulation and forward-thinking mitigation can create a healthy, prosperous country that's doing its bit. Parenti's call for the United States government to lead the way in mitigation efforts seems to echo in an empty chamber as on the page, and will certainly be laughed at if a Republican becomes president, judging by how dismissive the candidates were of "global warming" and their rather bizarre notion that government should not, well, govern (this idea confuses me: what's the point of government, then? To simply collect taxes and spend it all on the military? That doesn't sound like a democracy at all).
If you're interested in the 20th-21st century history of countries like Somalia, India, Afghanistan, Brazil, Mexico, and how climate change, counter-insurgency and violence are connected, Parenti has done a thorough job in researching this correlation. He has been to all these areas, spoken with the locals including gang members, and has a firm understanding of global politics and economic theory. I would have liked for the latter to be better explained, because once you understand economic theory, not only does the world make more sense, but you can interpret what's happening and what our leaders etc. are actually saying and doing, in a more critical way. To that end, I recommend you read this after reading books like the ones I mentioned above, or perhaps even Parenti's earlier books, though I haven't read them so I don't know if they'd be good background for this or not.
Overall, Tropic of Chaos was a frightening study of convergence in the modern world, from which I learnt a lot in terms of small details and specific issues but was also left with more questions - and an undiminished thirst to learn more. ...more