Shortlisted for the 2015 Society of Biology Book Award
'After Mark Cocker’s glorious book, you will never look at a blackberry bush the same way again.' Philip Hoare, New Statesman
In a single twelve-month cycle of daily writings Mark Cocker explores his relationship to the East Anglian landscape, to nature and to all the living things around him. The separate entries are characterised by close observation, depth of experience, and a profound awareness of seasonal change, both within in each distinct year and, more alarmingly, over the longer period, as a result of the changing climate. The writing is concise, magical, inspiring.
Cocker describes all the wildlife in the village – not just birds, but plants, trees, mammals, hoverflies, moths, butterflies, bush crickets, grasshoppers, ants and bumblebees. The book explores how these other species are as essential to our sense of genuine well-being and to our feelings of rootedness as any other kind of fellowship.
A celebration of the wonder that lies in our everyday experience, Cocker’s book emphasises how Claxton is as much a state of mind as it is a place. Above all else, it is a manifesto for the central importance of the local in all human activity.
A selection of pieces published in journals and newspapers over the previous 12 years, this is superlative nature writing. Claxton is a small village east of Norwich, East Anglia, England. It’s the author’s home and the inspiration for much of his work which involves detailed, lengthy observations of the local landscape, its flora and fauna. Like all naturalists, he is distressed at the impending and actual loss of so much of our natural world. The best way to review this book is to give you Cocker’s own words:
3 May 2010 ‘Dawn chorus’ is a funny name for that period when the birds start singing each day, because it does not really occur at dawn and it’s certainly not a chorus. .... The architecture of the sound doesn’t even suggest the idea of a collective endeavour. It is more that period when each member of an orchestra plays randomly for themselves while tuning their instruments.
28 July 2008 ……insect music. The route to the marsh passes through a brief shady tunnel framed by oak and brambles on either side. Here the hoverflies love to feed on ragwort and the final blackberry flowers……As you descend into this small dell of summer light and shadow you feel your whole self enveloped in the softest drone like a warm pool after long labour.
6 August 2012 I think the miracle of swifts, perhaps the miracle of all life, is made more apparent if you try to think of them not as birds, but as insects. For swifts are made from nothing but tiny invertebrates floating in the ether. A flock of thirty and everything about them - that noise, those scintillating movements, their feathers, those air-filled bones as light as grass - is a distillation of billions of insects. And when I say billions I mean it. A single mouthful of food passed from an adult swift to its chick can contain three hundred insects.
Alas, the miracle of swifts is fading…You wonder if we all think swifts so miraculous that they’ll trigger that final Eureka moment when we really get it: that this whole living landscape is in our hands. ….. Just as we might see the swifts’ sky trawl as composed of nothing but insects, we should recall that our own little dance consumes every other living thing around us.
This is a collection of previously written articles that have been compiled into a book. Cocker has made it read like a diary with events and observations set over one year, thought they are from a number of different years, and he has also taken the liberty of polishing up some of the original text to help with the time and context. Most of the pieces are set local to him, hence the title of the book, and others from further afield, including Greece.
In the same principle of the finest nature writing that we have, Cocker has immersed himself in his local environment and his frequent haunts and walks to see what is around on that day. His sharp eyes observe the mundane survival of the local wildlife and he writes with a passion about the dramatic events of life and death that he sees.
Normally a bird writer, his book Crow Country is fantastic, in this he sees all manner of other creatures, including mammals birds and insects, especially moths, coupled with his acute observations of the subtle changes and the inexorable turn of the seasons, all of which go to make up the cycle of life and death.
It is written with sparklingly tight prose too, making this a delight to read.
Fascinating compilation of articles by the country diarist of (among others) the Guardian – the articles (written over many years) are compiled in chronological order through the year. This inevitably and appropriately gives rise to a level of repetition as the books captures the rhythm of the English countryside (its plants, birds, mammals, fish and insects) in the same way as the brilliant fictional Reservoir 13.
The vast majority of the articles are set within walking distance of the author’s home in the village of Claxton, south East of Norwich between the River Yare and some marshes (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Claxton...) – and a the book’s opening the author explains how moving to this village transformed his nature writing from one based on travel to one based on simply observing the world around him.
The author can sometimes lapse, despite his conscious attempts, into anthropomorphism (in particular when discussing bird flight and bird song) while at the same time maintaining a rather naïve level of (if such a phrase exists) anti-anthropocentricism.
The book could be read daily as a natural diary, looking out for similar occurrences in one’s own vicinity: but I don’t think that is how the author envisaged it – and would only really work if based in a similar part of the country to the author: as an example living in Surrey but with my parents in Norfolk, I have become very aware of the markedly earlier inception in Surrey of much anticipated natural events (the first snowdrops/bluebells/daffodils, Blackberry crops)
(3.5) Mark Cocker is the Guardian’s country diarist for Norfolk. The short pieces in this book are reprints of his columns, some expanded or revised. Controversially, I started with the October chapter (the month it was when I picked up the book). This worked well in that I was able to notice the same trends Cocker was narrating. In fact, I would advise keeping this as a bedside or coffee table book from which you read no more than one or two entries a week, so that you always stay in chronological sync. You’ll appreciate the book most if you experience nature along with Cocker, rather than reading from front cover to back in a few sittings. The problem with the latter approach is that there is inevitable repetition of topics – and even exact wording – across years.
All told, after spending a vicarious year in Claxton, you’ll agree: “How miraculous that we are all here, now, in this one small place.”
4.5 Claxton is a small village in Norfolk - a village lucky enough to have the wonderful and very gifted nature writer Mark Cocker living in it.
The book describes a 12 month cycle of diary writings, although there aren't entries for every day, and it covers several years within that cycle. Most of the entries are about local observations in and around Claxton although occasionally he goes much further afield.
I have seen Cocker on several TV programmes and he is an eloquent speaker. However, the quality of his nature writing is truly outstanding. I started off by noting particularly good quotes but it was a hopeless task as they leap off every page. And yet he is never overly flowery or the slightest bit over the top.
How many writers can accurately describe particular birdsong? He even manages to do that!
I love his sense of wonder in everything around him, be it a spider's web, an insect that lands on his sleeve or a bird of prey hovering about the fields.
I know some people dip into 'diary' books on a daily basis but that's not for me. I read it in its entirety by the fireside during a few bitterly cold North Yorkshire winter days, but it would have been just as excellent a read sitting outside on a summer's day.
The important thing is to take time, be quiet and still, and note the wonders all around you, wherever you are and whatever time of year. How many of us, stuck in a traffic jam on the M6 near Birmingham (as one of his August diary entries relates) would be studying the field grasshoppers next to the stationary cars?
Claxton is currently longlisted for the Wainwright prize for UK Nature and Travel Writing. Well worth seeing out the other books on this list (and for 2014).
A brilliant read about Mark Cocker's nature observations around his home in Norfolk. However, it goes deeper than simple observations and Cocker comments on the disturbing decrease in British wildlife. A read that is especially important today with the ecological disasters that are not only happening here but across the world.
In Mark Cocker’s new book, we see a return to his roots - the chronicling of life in a small and apparently unremarkable piece of countryside.The short essays in ‘Claxton’ were originally written for a variety of publications, notably ‘The Guardian’. Of these pieces, 140 have been assembled here (and some rewritten) to present a natural diary of the author’s home village and its surroundings.
These essays are not confined exclusively to the ‘home patch’. Here the net of experience is cast more widely, reaching Derbyshire, Cornwall, Scotland and even the desert fringe of Morocco. Even when away, though, one senses the presence of home and sudden connections with what has been left behind. The essay on Morocco finishes with an encounter with migrant Chiffchaffs, birds which, notes Cocker, will soon be “singing from the treetops in Claxton”. It is as though one has been jerked back home by a piece of elastic.
‘Claxton’ transcends mere natural history identification and recording, articulating the author’s aesthetic as well as scientific responses to his surroundings. And there is more here too. Some essays, such as those on the persecution of our native raptors and the (now shelved) plans to reintroduce White-tailed Eagles to East Anglia, are much more political in their stance. The overall result, therefore, is a well-balanced mix of art, science and advocacy.
This is, above all, a lyric and literary rather than a documentary endeavour. As we have come to expect from Cocker, this is beautifully-sculpted, elegant prose, clean and precise, never over-done.
Excellent writing, but 3 stars from me. Laid out like a diary over the course of a year, it spans more than one year. Most of the entries are of Claxton or nearby in Norfolk, but a few venture farther afield. It got a bit repetitive. I had to keep my field guide to British birds handy, and looked up butterflies and other insects mentioned on line, since there were no photos, only a few black and white illustrations like woodcuts. Perhaps because of that, I found it difficult to really picture myself there. I felt I was reading these intimate descriptions of flora and fauna from a considerable distance, as I suppose I am being in Minnesota. I wanted to feel some connection to my British ancestral roots, and didn't really get that here. I am an avid birdwatcher, so I did enjoy that aspect. It took me back to my keen interest in all the new birds I was seeing on my trip to Wales when I bought that British bird book. I recommend reading this in small doses over the year, not all at once.
Book description: In 2001 Mark Cocker moved to Claxton, a small village in Norfolk. In a series of daily writings spanning the course of a year he explores his relationship to the landscape he lives in, to nature and to all the living things around him - the birds, plants, trees, mammals, hoverflies, moths, butterflies, bush crickets, grasshoppers, ants and bumblebees. Passionate, astonishing and inspiring, this book is a celebration of the wonder that lies in our everyday experience. Shortlisted for the Royal Society of Biology Book Award, the Jarrold East Anglian Book Awards, the New Angle Prize and theThwaites Wainwright Prize
This book comprises 140 short essays, originally published as newspaper articles, each describing one or more aspects of the wildlife (and some tame) observed by the author on a stated day of the year, over a period of about 10 years. Most arise from observations in his chosen home parish in Norfolk, with some from elsewhere in the UK, and a few overseas. Each essay is a short and relaxed read - each deserves to be savoured: I read them two or three at a sitting; some might prefer to take a year to read the whole book, considering each entry on its corresponding day.
Cocker writes elegantly and concisely, often with an original mode of description or a novel point of view, that is reminiscent of JA Baker's 'The Peregrine', to whom he refers. In particular, he conveys emotion in his writing - he, the writer, is touched by what he has seen, and we, the readers, see this, and through his writing are touched ourselves.
A beautiful book about Claxton in Norfolk -wildlife, nature. Follows Claxton through the calendar. Jumps about a bit between years which I was not so keen on. On a par with Meadowland although I preferred Meadowland.
In this book, Mark Cocker collects together a year of writings on the subject of the nature around him. I believe the collection was first published as nature notes in a national newspaper. The information largely relates to his local parish of Claxton but there are isolated notes concerning places that he visits.
I found the text really interesting and loved hearing the details of the plants and animals. The aim of the text is partly to inform, partly to argue the case of us refreshing the bond with our natural environment and partly a reflection of the writers experiences of the natural world. I detected a hefty dash of poetic influence in the descriptions of the natural landscape - in my view this made the read even more of a pleasure.
My only slight gripe is that there are instances where some essay subjects are repeated in the text - presumably resulting from the fact that the pieces originally appeared in isolation. Good editing should have fixed this but this is a minor quibble.
A great read and a welcome chance to think about the natural world around us - highly recommended.
Difficult to star-rate a book like this in comparison with most of the other stuff I read, and I've had so little time or energy for reading lately anyway it's taken me ages. However--it's a lovely collection of short pieces over a calendar year of dates (though not all the same year), recording encounters with the natural world, mostly, but not all, in the East Anglian landscape. Interesting, informative, and often soothing (though sometimes shocking or saddening). Made me wish I could go and walk the same places to look and listen for myself.
The specific detail and general restriction to a small area are important. The seasonality is well conveyed by the ordering of the articles by date, not year. I like the patience and concentration that comes across and the respect for words and the idea of connection between the moment of writing and the moment of reading. There is also a sense of the connectedness of creatures, plants, climate and people. As a result of the pieces being originally written for the press and for a deadline, there is occasionally a slightly forced feel and a slightly 'off' exaggeration to the closing lines of an entry. However definitely a celebration and an elegy to make one look and think.
This was a cleverly collected set of country diary pieces which enabled a theme to be built up in layers producing even greater satisfaction than the pleasure of reading one short Mark Cocker piece. I always slightly shamefully enjoy it most when he writes about his home county of Derbyshire rather than the Norfolk, the Claxton where he now lives and loves so well.
There were one or two places where he seemed to think he was that other sort of newspaper columnist, making some at best slightly inadequately explained or jarring negative comments (what's wrong with neutering your tomcats?) I particularly appreciated his piece debunking those Songbird Survival predator persecutors.
(2014) Describes natural history surrounding Norfolk village of Claxton. Well written, and particularly good because of author's musings, especially about interconnectedness. For instance, ends with description of an elderly oak in the village. Among the numerous organisms that have fed from her, and her offspring, over three and a half centuries Cocker now likes to include himself and his family because, "via the alchemy of words and print, the grand old dame has just put food on our table."
very well written and a nice relaxing read (particularly when outdoors). There were a lot of nice ideas and different ways of thinking about nature (and our relationship with it) which will hopefully inspire my own nature writing. Was quite jealous of all the nature Mark Cocker gets in Claxton (sometimes hundreds of individuals of a species I've barely seen). Narrowly missed out on 5 star rating.
Lovely book, ideal for dipping in and out. Very interesting views on conservation and how popularity doesn't mean the best approach is taken. I particularly liked this book because I live in Norwich, lots of the places mentioned I will visit, places I've not been before despite living quite close.
The book is a collection of previously released articles meant to come together as some sort of journal on nature. There are some good pieces in the first few months. Most of it is so boring I can’t even explain. Not to mention the fact that the articles don’t fit well together. They don’t have a narrative or theme which is what you’d expect from a bool of this structure.
An absolute delight. Like little prose poems. Overriding sense of 'attention', which seemed to keep popping up everywhere; people talking about concepts of attention by Paul Celan, Simone Weil and Mary Oliver, whose death was reported while I was reading.
Pure poetry. Such a gorgeous read. Mesmerised by the authors ability to pack so much information and emotion into short daily nature passages. I would never tire of reading such field notes.
Reading anything by Mark Cocker is guaranteed to hold my attention, to fill my heart.
For me this book's weakness is also its strength. At the beginning I struggled with the fact that this book wasn't written as one whole cohesive piece, but instead fragments written over a number of years, and then grouped according to month. At times I felt frustrated that each piece was so short, I was barely warmed to the subject before it was finished.
But then I started to feel something special about the way the structure worked. Cocker showed us how we work as people, as writers, as well as how nature herself works. We circle around and around, sometimes stumbling across new things, sometimes revisiting the same. When we revisit familiar territory we may add something slightly new each time.
I particularly liked Cocker's request for us not to become complacent about everyday species in the quest to spot the rare ones.
I won't be looking at nature or birds the same way ever again.
I don't think I was the target audience of this book but found it delightful nonetheless. Beautiful descriptions and a lot of knowledge and respect for nature packed into one book.
My main issue was that the book could often feel quite repetitive, but I have felt that way before about diary entry style books and it may just come for the nature of the structure.
A wonderful, lyrical elegy to nature, this is a beautifully written and minutely observed book. It is a also a book that is tinged with melancholy due to the destructive swathe that we have been cutting through the English countryside over recent decades.
Mark Cocker ranks alongside Richard Mabey and Robert Macfarlane as one of my favourite writers about the natural world. Claxton pulls together writings about his small village in the Yare valley in Norfolk (with an occasional scattering of passages from other locations), originally published in other magazines and newspapers. It is presented here in diary form, so I chose to read the book over the whole of the last year, reading each short chapter on the day it describes. Like Cocker's brilliant Crow Country, Claxton is a beautifully observed study of local wildlife and ecology. Cocker writes like a dream and his descriptions of what he observes around him are often very moving. The diary element of the book is complemented by an exhaustive species list for Claxton parish which I found quite revelatory; the sheer variety of life in one small patch of England is astonishing.
This collection stems from the nature diaries found in the Guardian and the EDP newspapers and I think that's where its strength lies. I've always found those little articles of four hundred words or so to be a perfect slice of nature writing, a little window which keeps you in tune with the rhythms of the seasons even if, like me, you are destined to live an urban life.
The diary entries Claxton read wonderfully well, the prose is lyrically written but founded on the knowledge of an excellent naturalist. It is in a very similar vein to Roger Deakin's wonderful Notes from Walnut Tree Farm and I have read it in the same way I did that, month-by-month in tandem with my year.
I grew up near Claxton, on the edge of the Norfolk countryside and this book fills me with joy at the thought of returning home, this time with a much keener eye and a notebook to hand.
At one stage there were thousands, we were teeming with them. Now, with careful help they are making a comeback, but it is patchy across the country. Naturalists. In this case, Cocker has been taken, with his family of course, out to rural Norfolk in an effort to repopulate that region. He is forced to go out, seemingly on most days of the year, and report on what he has seen. Otters, falcons, moths, grasshoppers - the usual malarkey. His usual tale is you used to have this near you, but now it is only near me. Still next year, he is being placed in central London. Let's see what he comes up with.
Brilliant. Mark Cocker, a naturalist and writer about nature, follows a year around Claxton, his home village, in East Anglia. The writing was drawn from his observations over twelve years.