Kraken is the traditional name for gigantic sea monsters, and this book introduces one of the most charismatic, enigmatic, and curious inhabitants of the the squid. The pages take the reader on a wild narrative ride through the world of squid science and adventure, along the way addressing some riddles about what intelligence is, and what monsters lie in the deep. In addition to squid, both giant and otherwise, Kraken examines other equally enthralling cephalopods, including the octopus and the cuttlefish, and explores their otherworldly abilities, such as camouflage and bioluminescence. Accessible and entertaining, Kraken is also the first substantial volume on the subject in more than a decade and a must for fans of popular science.
Wendy Williams is a journalist whose work has appeared in The Boston Globe, The Wall Street Journal, The New York Times, and The Christian Science Monitor, among many other publications. She is the author of several books, including Kraken and Cape Wind, and is a lifelong equestrienne. She lives in Mashpee, Massachusetts.
Very interesting book. More on neurobiology than I had anticipated, but when has that ever been a bad thing? I was a little disturbed by the casual cruelty shown to the cephalopods in the book. Some squid get their heads cut off with scissors (alive) before being dissected (still alive) so we can see how their brains work. An octopus has its brain split into two hemispheres (alive) before being taught to associate a particular stimulus with an electric shock: "when it saw the ball . . . it literally cowered" (p. 181). This sits really uneasily with me, particularly in the context of discussing how intelligent they are.
The book itself is also beautifully designed: the dust jacket is cream colored, firm weight, and slightly nacreous, like a nautilus shell, but underneath the book cover is oily, inky, glossy black. The pages have a slight deckle edge, and have that lovely uneven, old fashioned look.
Now, here's my criticism: Wendy Williams - for god's sake, do you not see how you are gendering the people you write about? Male scientists are introduced with the fact that they like coffee, or enjoy touching octopuses. You made me shout aloud with your incessant description of Julie Stewart's FUCKING PONYTAIL!
For the love of cephalopods, stop telling me about her "slight frame," her 5'3" height, her hairstyle, and clothing choices, unless you are also going to discuss the same things about the men. In the next chapter we meet Sean Picot walking along a beach. I don't have a clue what he looks like, was wearing, what his hair is like, and that's because, Wendy Williams, you decided that as he has testicles it's not relevant. So stop fucking doing it for your scientists who happen to have ovaries. And while I'm at it, don't describe highschool girls eagerly crowded around a dissection table as "groupies in a mosh pit" when you make no such casually dismissive reference about the boys in the same class. You demean all of us when you write like this, Ms Williams.
Because the author is a journalist and not a scientist her research is very secondhand. That is not necessarily a bad thing if done right as many of us need an interpreter to understand such a topic. It can take a very talented scientist to write an appealing and understandable book. Williams talks to many researchers on cephalopods, that is mollusks such as squid, octopus, cuttlefish or nautilus, primarily the Architeuthis or giant squid. Until fairly recently the giant squid lived more in the realm of myth as the kraken. Thus the somewhat sensational book title. Until fairly recently most examples of giant squid have been found dead or dying on the surface or washed up on beaches, not their natural environment. More recently technology and improved science has revealed more about the creatures.
I feel the book was somewhat disorganized and sometimes glaringly journalistic with almost childish phrasing such as “ luscious squid lunches” referring to turtles eating squid or “the bacteria don’t just set up house and begin to party.” The author mentions many times “we just don’t know” about squids. There seem to be many good books about octopuses but I haven’t located all that many about squid.
I found the book a little disappointing. I don’t doubt the scientist’s fascination with their subjects but they seem awfully busy finding practical application for squid study (someone must pay for their work) such as medical use for humans or study of camouflage for potential army use. You see a lot of dissected eyeballs and splayed squid in general. That might put off some readers.
Kraken by Wendy Williams This is such a wonderful book not only about the beautiful and mysterious creatures of the deep but the joy of studying them. What a wonderful and thrilling job to explore their world and glimpse into their private and isolated lives. The author gave us the reader a very thorough look at the hard work the scientists must endure to get so little knowledge in return. But it was quite thrilling to me. The author made the whole book an adventure and I have a new respect for them and the creatures they love to research.
I did not love this book in the way that I thought I would, being an avid lover of squid, cuttlefish, and yes, even the lowly octopus, since way back in the day.
The cause of this lack of enthusiasm on my part is three-fold:
1. The tiny black-and-white photographs give the book the feeling of a high school newspaper from the 1990s. Especially in the chapters that discuss the amazing color capabilities of squid, the lack of color photos is amazingly frustrating. And they're tiny - you really have to squint to see what the pictures are of.
2. This one is weird, because I'm usually the first person to praise a book for being easy to understand, but the writing seemed very dumbed down to me. Like maybe it was written for an audience of seventh graders. And good for seventh graders for being so interested in squid, but when they become adults who are still interested in cephalopods, they'll want something more than this book can offer.
3. The book spends a lot of time discussing the scientific uses of squid. Which, in many instances, are very valuable. However, what I want to know about squid is not how difficult they are to dissect (which is apparently very); what I want to know about is squid qua squid : how they can change color rapidly and how that benefits them; how their ability to change direction allows them to outwit predators and prey; about their life cycles, their mating habits, what they think of the whole Occupy Wall Street movement that's happening. The contributions that squid unwittingly are making to science may one day lead to a cure to many terrible diseases, but if I'm going to read about a squid just casually getting its head lopped off with a scalpel, the next chapter better start with the decapitated squid coming back to life and wreaking a terrible vengeance.
This book isn't really what I was expecting. I went into this assuming it would be a short but dense piece of scientific literature exploring the life and science of squids, maybe with a bit of mythological execution thrown in there. I mean, with a striking tittle including "Kraken" can you blame me? Instead, what I got was a lighter, humorous scientific account of a particular graduate student's (Julie Stewart) research quest to finding out more about cephalopods and how they have and can further still enhance our knowledge of the underwater realms, learn more about our own species (homo sapiens) and improve our medicines.
Although it was mainly focused on a particular student and her mission (Williams sometimes sounding like a fangirl, I will be honest), it was embedded with side "plots" if you will, which gave the book richer context and other scientific and more experienced expertise to think about.
I really liked how Wendy Williams made this an easy to digest book by crafting it in a way that almost felt like a story, which again is something I definitely was not expecting when initially picking this book up.
I appreciated that although our main focus was on the squids and other cephalopods (such as cuttlefish and octopuses), we are getting a greater contextual background in relation to other species and how they compare and improve human sciencetific knowledge.
We got a lot of examples and some of them were not what I was expecting from this kind of book (I'm looking at you- Pirates of the Caribbean!) And although we got a decent array of images, it would have been even better if we had a few diagrams of each of the main cephaopods being talked about (possibly in colour) because I found my self looking them up a fair amount of times.
I loved how witty and amusing this was but really didn't appreciate it when it came to the literal butchering of healthy squid, by the boat load, to study as specimens. It was very cruel.
I also didn't agree with Williams' throw away gender comments (high school girls as groupies, for example) and the way she overly described female scientists like Julie (again, rather fangirly) and lacked that kind of detail for the male scientists. There were a few good reviews I saw that mentioned this and I thought I definitely needed to make people aware that I also acknowledged this and dissaproved... Not as eloquently written as other, unfortunately.
I found this to be incredibly fascinating and feel well learned and schooled (get it? Cause some animals live in shoals/schools? I'm so funny) and although I had my problems concerning morals, I still feel as though I've learned a great deal than I knew before.
I'll have to look through the references and pick through what I want to explore further because this book, if nothing else, has definitely peaked my interest in the oceanic world.
The Cephalopods got the three stars. I LOVE them. Williams held them back. Her style and voice are juvenile. Little organization, lack of development, and silly comments and questions. She is also repetitive (repeating sentences verbatim just pages apart) and can't form a cohesive paragraph. Even more importantly, her approach to the animals is callous...she has no problem joking about scientists killing them in rough ways right after she talks about how intelligent they are. Her main accolade for cephalopods is how they benefit humans in war and medicine. It's clear she finds them interesting for those reasons, but it's also clear she doesn't like them much. They deserve a passionate, informed, artistic writer.
Absolutely suited for would-be scientists of any age, this book is a great introduction to cephalopods. Lest you think you are not interested, consider this: as ocean temperatures rise and salinity changes, giant Humboldt squid are being found in huge numbers much farther north than ever before and have beached themselves as they did in Monterey Bay in 1992. Humboldt squid can reach up to 6 feet in length and weigh up to 100 pounds, and have a dangerous reputation for eating men alive, were one to fall from a boat into schooling squid. While "eating men alive" is probably untrue, their tentacles have teeth and barbs, and some divers find their wet suits punctured and blood drawn. The brain of squid is extremely complex and distributed in their arms: their tentacles operate with lightening-fast speed & independently of each other.
But Humboldts have nothing on the colossal squid, which can reach 40-50 feet in length and have eyeballs as big as human heads. Fishermen of old used to tell stories of squid swallowing whole ships, or trying to. While the stories are discounted as mere tales, there is no denying the sheer brainpower and extraordinary abilities of enormous cephalopods operating in water. Wendy Williams briefly introduces us to famous octopi who have lived in some aquariums and talks a little about cuttlefish, which have a bone structure so light and yet so strong that materials scientists are using the principles learned from cuttlefish to build land structures.
Until recently colossal squid have not been photographed in their feeding environment because of their extraordinary speed, evasion techniques, and the depth of their dives. But a Japanese scientist made headline news with his film of a colossal squid feeding in 2005. Photos and links are included in the book to view landmarks in our understanding of these mysterious and ingenious creatures.
I learned a lot, but this book retreaded a lot of ground that The Soul of an Octopus mentioned (I think they were published the same year), and also focused a little too much on dissection and the...taste of squid? for me.
The first half of this book is fascinating. It gives a quick introduction to the science of cephalopods, explains some of their unique features, and tells us about how humans viewed them in the past. I was especially interested in the parts about the process of marine biology field research, you always see those pop-up GPS tags in television documentaries so it was interesting to learn about how they work.
Then the author got into squid connections to medical research, and she just lost me. Those sections were dry and far more detailed than I was interested in. A chapter on squid sex might have brought things back on track, unfortunately it was filled with cutesy attempts to compare squid reproduction with our own. It also included a jarringly sexist quote from one of her interview subjects about how he didn't follow up on a research opportunity because interrupting a pair of squid that may have been mating wouldn't have been popular with all the women on the boat. Yeah, it was just a joke, but one that relied on the idea that women researchers value sentiment over science. Yech.
The book hooked me back in with its final chapters about octopus behavior and studies of possible intelligence in these animals, but I couldn't help but feel that the middle sections were a missed opportunity.
It was well written for the most part, the information flowed really well in all the chapters except for those medical ones. The author did have a tendency to repeat words and phrases close together (including two uses of "ultimately" in as many sentences), but that's as much an editing problem as a writing one.
This was a good book, but if it had been a little more stylistically consistent then it could have been a great one.
The prose is easy and the author offers some good metaphors to describe unfamiliar concepts, but the structure and focus were a bit loose. The narrative jumps around enough that I had trouble remembering scientists introduced in earlier chapters. The section on squid axons was maybe too technical, or just too long, for a book of this kind, and while I really enjoyed the chapter on the nature of intelligence and the difficulty humans have in recognizing it in non-mammals, it seemed to get away from the subject a bit for the very reason that there aren't a lot of studies on squid intelligence.
Three stars. A good introduction to cephalopods. Has a bibliography, an index, and a few tantalizingly grainy black and white images that made me feel like I was reading about Bigfoot.
this would have been awesome when I was eight years old or so. not sure how i feel about female science journalists after reading this -- was there really a need to tell me "genera" is plural for "genus"? or to make simpering, silly little comments about squid sex? or Dragon Ball references? take that shit to a middle school classroom, please. i prefer In Search of the Giant Squid for teuthologic pop science and Boyle's Cephalopods as a textbook.
I can't honestly say I loved absolutely every second. There were moments when I found Williams's prose a little cutesy, or her transitions jarring, or I wished there was more information about something. But for a slim book, it packs in an incredible amount of breathtaking information and also does a great job of presenting enough of the basic scientific context to let you understand the material. (E.g., I understand how neurons work a lot better now.) Consistently enthralling.
I enjoyed this book but found it spotty. The author was too present, too intrusive. I think her style may be influenced by Mary Roach, and a little of that goes a long way with me. I learned a lot about cephalopods, and I really, really, really wish I could have cromatophores.
I flat-out loved the neuroscience chapter. I think I need a good pop-sci neuroscience book right away.
It started off so interesting and I know that Wendy Williams knows her biology because she was very immaculate when it came to discussing the science behind events. However, as a writer, there was no focus on this story.
We had many minor stories that just get cut off as a supposed conclusion but it fails to shed any light into the mysterious world of squid. The part that did focus on squid was perfect (hence the 2 stars) but everything else fell flat. Also, I know that they all belong to the cephalopod class but diverging off topic to talk about octopuses is not a good thing to do, especially when you're so close to the end.
Also, there seem to be this message that conservation of animals is only good because said animal is "useful" to the human race. It may not be intentional, but the writing style did go over this again and again. But it sends an awful message. To preserve only for it's use to humanity and not because of ethics.
I took forever to read this 200 page book. So ya. Not my cup of tea.
Three stars for some great, entrancing facts about squids (and other cephalopods.) Did you know they have blue blood, and that's because it contains copper rather than iron? Did you know squid have both arms and tentacles? Or that there are both giant and colossal squid? And that the latter can grow up to at least 50 feet long? And that there are probably lots and lots and LOTS of giant squid in the ocean, given the evidence scientists have retrieved from inside sperm whale bellies? And that Humboldt squid are about five to six feet long (not even giant, just regular big) and they travel in huge schools and they're aggressive?
This was intermittently a lot of fun and very interesting to read, and strangely frustrating. I'm not sure whether to blame Williams or her publisher for the frustrating parts. Williams seems to have a stylistic quirk of repeating salient points a few times in a given paragraph, as if she's worried that maybe you missed them the first time--as well as some points that I considered pretty well common knowledge, and not in need of repetition. She jumps around a fair bit in her storytelling, and puts emphasis in odd places, as if she's leading up to a big point...which she never makes.
For instance, we spend almost half the book dipping in and out of an in-scene anecdote of marine scientists capturing Humboldts on a ship in the Monterey Bay. The level of detail led me to think someone was going to fall overboard or suffer a serious slash injury or...something. But no, we just came back to that same scene four or five times, wandering away each time into more facts about squid, their brains, cognition, neurons, axons, the ocean, climate change, octopuses, the mysteries of the animals world... The end result is twofold: it seems like Williams doesn't really have that much to report on (the Humboldt-capturing trip is cool, but pretty routine, and nothing really goes awry), and she also doesn't really have an all-encompassing point to her book. Apart from: squids are cool. Which they are, no argument there.
This kind of structure makes me wonder if the author or the editor is sleepy at the wheel, and I'm inclined to think it's both because there were a few glaring copy-editing errors ("principle factors" for "principal factors," etc.) that set my teeth on edge. I was also bemused and annoyed by Williams's bizarre habit of referring to all male scientists and subjects by their surnames, but female ones by their first names. So Bill Gilly is "Gilly," but Julie Stevens is "Julie." For the whole book. What the heck?
Finally, I wish this book had proper footnotes. Williams relies heavily on other sources, everything from newspaper accounts to scientific studies, and while she provides a hefty bibliography, she doesn't directly source any of her quotations or derivations. It's bush-league stuff, and since they clearly had money for this book (full index, nice end papers, etc.) I don't know how they decided to skip that step.
In sum, squids are cool and so are footnotes.
ETA: After reading a few other reviews, I was reminded of something else bizarre and botherating about this book--Williams constantly returns to the value of squid not as squid, but as potential tools to human beings. She doesn't seem to understand that non-human life may have just as much right to exist in the world as we do, and instead lards her (mild) conservation argument with examples of how useful squid have been to neuroscience, behaviorism, our understanding of evolution, etc. Weird and off-putting.
“Serendipitous discovery isn’t entirely accidental, you have to be in tune enough with what you’re looking at to know that you’re seeing something important.”
In this 223 page collection of chapters, Williams examines various creatures who have been classified as cephalopods, including squid, octopus, and cuttlefish. Through research that called upon a litany of scientists to provide various perspectives, she discusses biological makeup, the form and function of different body parts (octopus “suckers” act like individual fingers, each capable of performing complex function!!), prevalence and patterns of movement in the ocean, historical lore, and research on intelligence.
Although this book didn’t live up to my own personal hype (I was ecstatic when the library said my hold was ready and it ended up being just meh), I really enjoyed the discussions about scientific research on intelligence. There were interesting insights about how anthropomorphism has historically misguided science by placing human abilities as the markers for tracking intelligence, when other species maintain deeply complex methods of navigating the world and expressing intelligence. It was also interesting to ponder the ways that human bias and preconceived cultural notions shape our viewpoints and perception of phenomena, even (and maybe especially) in scientific research.
Overall, though, someone who is more into zoology or marine biology or just animal science, in general, might enjoy this book more. I myself did not find the writing and organization of the information to be curious, exciting, or slightly disturbing.
I was hoping for a book that discussed the history and behavior of squid (the "world" of squid, I suppose you could say), as that seemed to be what was offered judging by the book description. Instead, this book is mostly concerned with cephalopod research and the medical/military application of those findings.
Maybe my expectations were off, but I thought the author was someone who had a certain respect for her subject matter. What I discovered instead were repeated, disheartening, accounts in the text of dissections and "research opportunities". For instance, not even halfway into the book, I was treated to descriptions of the heads being scissored off live squid, squid being harvested by the hundreds on a single trip in order to cut their brain stems and harvest their stomach contents...I think I'll just leave it at that.
The reason I gave this two stars instead of one, is because I think this is probably an enjoyable read if you're more interested in the scientific research than the cephalopods themselves. If you're simply seeking to gain more information on these creatures, you'll probably want to stay away from this one. Comment Comment | Permalink
Condescending. The book feeds you simplified nuggets and then giggles about how hard science is, and the author refers to male scientists by their last name and female ones by their first. It got to the point where the introduction of every new scientist would piss me off.
Lots of justifying research by whether we can use it for medicine (or for profit). Depressing.
Full disclosure: I did not finish this book. The author clearly didn't trust her readers to be interested in her book, so, whatever, self fulfilling prophecy. Oh well.
This book reads a bit like a Marine Biology textbook. Which is to say: I was riveted. It rambles in places, could be more tightly edited in some places and perhaps more whimsically written in others, but ultimately I'm forever Team Cephalopod, reporting for duty.
[Four stars for a delightfully nerdy summary of enticing squid science, and five billion stars for our stunning, life-giving oceans.]
Photos are too small and too dark. The text is disjointed. It's not organized by any obvious method: not by species, not by scientist, not by location. It just sort of goes from topic to topic and there are random chapter breaks in between.
This book started really strong, and certainly hit a lot of interesting points on animal intelligence and news of the weird of the cephalopod world, but Williams could have used a better editor. By the end it was getting repetitious -- re-treading facts and concepts she'd already shared -- and becoming more and more full of platitudes. A shame, because there is some great stuff to learn in here.
Ugh, what a disappointment. I wanted a book about squids, but most of the book is actually about scientists who study squids or evolution. Add to this writing that is amateurish and condescending (and really, really unscientific) and I give up.
I picked up the book out of vague curiosity, but stayed for the surprisingly poignant lessons cephalopods can teach us. My favorite quote:
"I find this thrilling. Comforting, really. Sharing our neuron—the cell that gives us our individuality and our particular personality—with so many other species makes our planet a little less lonely. [...] As evolution continues and we disappear from the universe, as we certainly will sooner or later, the neuron will probably go on, blossoming in some other intelligent being's brain and, hopefully, creating a life-form that finally figures out how to stop fighting and just enjoy being alive."
A wonderfully written very insightful book! I bought this book just because I came across it in the store and I’m very glad I did! I learnt a lot of fun facts and read this all in one sitting, I didn’t expect to love it as much as I did
Love me a good cephalopod!!! Lost stars bc didn’t spend nearly enough time on why squids die (one paragraph what the heck), but did learn how octopuses die and it is just as intense.