" . . . dashing and idiomatic language that is a pleasure to read." ―Berlingske Tidende
" . . . an appetizer and eye opener . . . Hoffmeyer is a modernistic pioneer in the wide open spaces of the natural sciences . . . " ―Politiken
" . . . extremely well written and interesting manifesto for a bioanthropology . . . " ―Inf.
"It should be read by anyone who likes to be wiser and at the same time to be challenged in his habitual conception of the relations between culture and nature." ―Weekend Avisen
On this tour of the universe of signs, Jesper Hoffmeyer travels back to the Big Bang, visits the tiniest places deep within cells, and ends his journey with us―complex organisms capable of speech and reason. What propels this journey is Hoffmeyer's attempt to discover how nature could come to mean something to someone―by telling the story of how cells, tissue, organs, plants, animals, even entire ecosystems communicate by signs and signals.
I've been working my way into semiotics backwards, starting from oblique references and moving through advanced retrospective and applied works, and naturally have found myself a bit confused about some of the basics. I tried out Sebeok's Introduction to Semiotics and found that it jumps into the weeds of sign classifications way too quickly and doesn't spend enough time on the philosophy. Signs of Meaning is a much better introductory book, at least for my purposes. It focuses almost entirely on presenting the philosophy of biosemiotics in familiar and approachable pop science language. It did clear up some of the remaining questions I had and confirm a few tentative leaps I had made on my own.
The problem is just that, even though it's a relatively short book, it still feels fluffy and unfocused. A lot of the examples and implications Hoffmeyer takes from his relatively simple premises quickly get rambly and personal and lose sight of the field he's introducing. The first few chapters are good but by the time he hits biochemistry, human intelligence, language, and ethics, there are like three good paragraphs per chapter worth of inadequately and speculatively summarizing vast fields of research, going on tangents that add detail without insight, and wildly extrapolating semiotics to distant spiritual ideas. It's a good place to start if you're trying to get into semiotics but don't let the pop and personal crap put you off the rest of it.
In advocating for the semiosphere: "In short, it is hard to see how ecology can be our guide and mentor in managing nature when it keeps splitting the world up into two distinct sectors—the natural and the cultural—thereby upholding all of the emotional superstructure, all the illusions, that alienate us from nature." (p. 143)