The Immense Journey

by Loren Eiseley

In an unusual blend of scientific knowledge and imaginative vision, Loren Eiseley tells the story of man. Anthropologist and naturalist, Dr. Eiseley reveals life's endless mysteries in his own experiences, departing from their immediacy into meditations on the long past, wandering—intimate with nature—along the paths and byways of time, and then returning to the present.

Genres: Science, Nonfiction, Nature, Essays, Philosophy, Natural History, Anthropology

224 pages, Mass Market Paperback

First published January 1, 1957

About the author

Loren Corey Eiseley (September 3, 1907 – July 9, 1977) was a highly respected anthropologist, science writer, ecologist, and poet. He published books of essays, biography, and general science in the 1950s through the 1970s.

Eiseley is best known for the poetic essay style, called the "concealed essay". He used this to explain complex scientific ideas, such as human evolution, to the general public. He is also known for his writings about humanity's relationship with the natural world; these writings helped inspire the modern environmental movement.

Reviews

[Shannon · Rating 5 out of 5]

The prose in the first four chapters of this book is life-changing, which is the last thing I expected to say about a book of nature essays. But it's seriously some of the most beautiful and evocative yet seemingly effortless writing I've ever read. I found myself essentially highlighting entire pages of text and slamming the book down in awe and whispering a reverent "Holy shit" every thirty seconds.

Choice quotes, even though taken out of context they don't have nearly the same impact:

"I would never again excavate a fossil under conditions which led to so vivid an impression that I was already one myself. The truth is that we are all potential fossils still carrying within our bodies the crudities of former existences, the marks of a world in which living creatures flow with little more consistency than clouds from age to age."

"Moving with me, leaving its taste upon my mouth and spouting under me in dancing springs of sand, was the immense body of the continent itself, flowing like the river was flowing, grain by grain, mountain by mountain, down to the sea. I was streaming over ancient sea beds thrust aloft where giant reptiles had once sported; I was wearing down the face of time and trundling cloud-wreathed ranges into oblivion."

"Shape of sea water and carbon rings, yet simultaneously a perplexed professor on a village street, I look up across the moon and Venus - outward, outward into that blue-white glitter beyond the galaxy. And as I look and shiver I feel the voice in every fiber of my being: Have we come from elsewhere? By these our instruments shall we go home?"

Like, are you kidding me? How does one even begin to think in these terms and this language? It's honestly astonishing. The middle chapters of the book become a bit more scientific and straightforward, but the information Eiseley presents is fascinating (if, by now, slightly outdated) and he never manages to hide the fact that he has a way with words beyond many novelists. In the last three or four chapters, he returns predominantly to a more poetic, romantic style, allowing the book to come full circle. Eiseley certainly has an agenda, but his writing never comes across as overly preachy or manipulative, which I think is why I appreciate it so much. It's just beautiful and striking and mysterious, and that kind of makes his point for him.

[Jamie Smith · Rating 5 out of 5]

Loren Eiseley is one of the authors I would have loved to take a walk with, through a museum or down some wooded path. It would have been an entertaining, educational, and memorable conversation.

Modern science writing can be forceful, elegant, and immersive, but it is hardly ever lyrical. Loren Eiseley’s thoughtful, discursive style can bring a reader to a halt, forcing them to read the passage again and again.

"The story of Eden is a greater allegory than man has ever guessed. For it was truly man who, walking memoryless through bars of sunlight and shade in the morning of the world, sat down and passed a wondering hand across his heavy forehead. Time and darkness, knowledge of good and evil, have walked with him ever since….For the first time in four billion years a living creature had contemplated himself and heard with a sudden, unaccountable loneliness, the whisper of the wind in the night reeds. Perhaps he knew, there in the grass by the chill waters, that he had before him an immense journey."

Eiseley could stare at an ancient skull and recognize the intelligence behind it, but he could also bring his powers of observation to meetings with modern man, even when his life was in danger.

"I once sat, a prisoner, long ago, and watched a peasant soldier just recently equipped with a submachine gun swing the gun slowly into line with my body. It was a beautiful weapon and his finger toyed hesitantly with the trigger. Suddenly to posses all that power and then to be forbidden to use it must have been almost too much for the man to contain. I remember, also, a protesting female voice nearby – the eternal civilizing voice of women who know that men are fools and children, and irresponsible. Sheepishly the peon slowly dropped the gun muzzle away from my chest. The black eyes over the barrel looked out a me a little wicked, a little desirous of better understanding."

No one writes like that anymore.

[Jim · Rating 5 out of 5]

Loren Eiseley ( 1907-1977) was an anthropologist, an educator, a philosopher, and a bone collector. He was a writer about nature, his writings expressing his sense of wonder concerning life, the universe, and evolution. A sickly child in an unhappy home, he spent a lot of time outdoors in his native Nebraska, just outside Lincoln. He graduated from the U of Nebraska, getting his Ph.d in anthropology at the U of PA . He became best-known for his nature writings and "The Immense Journey" is his first book, a collection of essays first published in 1946 (my edition was published in 1957).
His best writing is based on observations he made of animals and plants--and nature as a whole-- and his reflections upon them. Here's an example ( Eiseley is exploring along the Platte River--and decides to float downstream): "For an instant...I had the sensation of sliding down the vast tilted face of the continent...Moving with me...was the immense body of the continent itself, flowing like the river was flowing, grain by grain, mountain by mountain, down to the sea. I was streaming over ancient sea beds thrust aloft where giant reptiles had once sported: I was wearing down the face of time and trundling cloud-wreathed ranges into oblivion...I tottered as I rose. I knew once more the body's revolt against emergence into the harsh and unsupporting air, its reluctance to break contact with that mother element which still...shelters and brings into being nine tenths of everything alive."--from "The Flow of the River"

[Iangagn · Rating 5 out of 5]

Somewhere down the stairs of time lie the secrets of life and this book is as good a way down that staircase as the most powerful microscope.

I really enjoyed the chapter "The Dream Animal" in which Dr. Eiseley marvels at the rapid pace at which the human brain seems to have developed. He suggests that what goes on between our ears might be the "true" evolutionary pressure that has led us through the maze of development and ultimately resulted in our emergence.

By all means, read this book, even if you're not an evolutionist. It is a literary masterpiece of its own kind and whatever the degree of divergence the author's opinions have with your own, you will not feel left out.

[Graham P · Rating 4 out of 5]

An eloquent essay into the awe of humankind. Bold and majestic with its poetry, yet also a hard scientific rumination on memory and evolution. Read this when a breath is needed. How technology thrives as our scope narrows with the integrity of a profit margin. From the past towards the future, the world is still our responsibility no matter how hard we try to forget it. Eiseley reminds us how to see the universe, and why not to wear future-forward blinders when we do.

[Annie Flanders · Rating 5 out of 5]

i have fond memories of reading loren eiseley in the late 1960s. one of my fondest memories is that i was reading either this book or 'night country' when i first met the late science fiction writer, philip k dick.

a friend at cal state hayward [that's what it was called long before it changed names to it's present one -CSUEB] felt that eiseley was 'too deep' for me at the grand old age of 21. he brought this friend of his to one of our 'nickolodoen nights' - a group of us played gin rummy and ended the evening watching fellini flicks [:::::smile:::::] and i was introduced to his friend this way -- 'this is my friend phil from la.' i have a vague recollection that at some point i was told that phil was a writer, because i remember that i asked him what he did - someone said he was a writer, and then they all laughed, but no one would ever tell me WHAT he wrote!!! it wasn't until he died [a year of so after i read 'man in a high castle,' and i saw his picture in a magazine that i reaized who he was.

all i know is that he and my friend stubby spent that evening and several others discussing eiseley and lorenz and others of that time and way i should or should not be reading them.

[Brian Griffith · Rating 4 out of 5]

Absolutely enchanting prose, vividly re-imaging the developmental stages of life on this planet.

[Paige · Rating 3 out of 5]

3 1/2 stars.

This is a hard book for me to rate.

It started off really strong (first five essays), I lost a little bit of interest & got annoyed around the middle, and it ended strong--the last three essays being especially good.

I guess this means, looking back over the chapters, that what worked for me was his perspectives on nature as a whole--water, earth, plants, animals, the long process of evolution, wonderings about various aspects of our world. What I didn't like so much was when he started talking about humankind specifically, and what this or that skull "means."

It should be of no surprise to anyone who knows me that his use of the word "man" and male pronouns as a blanket term for all people was annoying; I was also suspicious of his seemingly racist language. I'm not sure how much of it is just a sign of the times, the field of physical anthropology itself (which has been, historically, used to justify racism), or Eiseley's own beliefs. He praised people who fought the out & out racism of their time, but he also made a couple statements that I was uncomfortable with (in one of them, which I did not have the supplies on hand to sticky-note, he said something about undeveloped something or other and "looking at the Eskimos" and I was just like--woah hold on one second there, dude!). Adding to this, the book is somewhat dated, the most recent essay in being published in 1957 (and the first in 1946). This made me somewhat dubious of accepting all his claims and opinions.

Other things I didn't like: his use of the words primitive, higher (and yes, even though he often put it in quotes to show that he had personal disagreement with its use in certain cases...it wasn't a good enough disclaimer for me *nose in the air*), savage (same as with his use of "higher"--he doesn't seem to embrace the use of "savages" personally, but he doesn't dissocate himself from it enough for my tastes), and the way he said the city was man's "greatest" creation, that man was the "master" of the world and so on. At various points he seems to be writing from a different (and one more closely aligned with me) mindset--I guess that's the nature of collecting essays that span a decade. Anyway, I enjoyed it much more when he was talking about human ego and conceit.

Besides the qualms I've detailed, I thought it was quite nice (I notice I never seem to detail what I do like, only what I don't). His writing really shines when he's talking about critters & ideas bigger than humans. The story in "The Bird and the Machine" moved me to tears, his subject and writing were generally interesting to me, and every so often had a beautiful turn of phrase on some profound something or other.

So, all in all: it was a worthwhile read. Some of these essays I would gladly read again, and some of them kinda bugged me.

[Tom · Rating 5 out of 5]

Open to any page and you'll find a passage thought-provoking in content and lyrical in style. Not something to binge-read, but to read slowly and savor. (His melancholic tone can get a wee ponderous at times, but he never lets in get in way of explaining complex ideas.) They're all about the same length. I read one essay per day, and it always felt like the perfect treat. I'm sure I'll be rereading several of them. My favorites among a consistently strong collection were The Slit, The Judgment of Birds, and The Secret of Life, the latter the final entry, which serves as a kind of manifesto for E's boots-on-the-ground, eyes-open-to-everything-in front-of-you methods, and his constructive skepticism of easy certainties claimed by researchers bent on proving what they already believe.

"If a day comes when the slime of the laboratory for the first time crawls under man's direction, we shall have great need of humbleness. It will be difficult for us to believe, in our pride of achievement, that the secret of life has slipped through our fingers and eludes us still. We will list all the chemicals and reactions. The men who have become gods will pose austerely before the popping flashbulbs of news photographers, and there will be few to consider -- so deep is the mindset of an age -- whether the desire to link life to matter may not have blinded us to the more remarkable characteristics of both."

I am in no position to critique E's science, but I greatly appreciate his ability to inspire me to think about such things in the first place. I've invested in the Library of America 2 volume set of his collected essays, and look forward to working through them one collection at a time.

[Elle · Rating 4 out of 5]

Although the sexist language of the book and its scientific positivism dates it somewhat, Loren Eiseley's The Immense Journey remains a classic. He narrates a history of the human species in the context of life on this planet throughout the scope of time. Glimpsed through his eyes, we can see the improbable and amazing persistence and adaptability of life in the face of eons of inhospitable conditions and successful and failed experiments. I found it a fascinating lens with which to consider existential and ecological questions.

I reveled in the descriptions of how angiosperms transformed the planet from green and brown to brilliant hues and made possible a great diversity of plant, insect, bird, mammalian and even specifically human life, finding it a very apt companion on a trip to Costa Rica's cloud forest in Monteverde. I puzzled with Eiseley over the mysterious naked bipedal prolonged adolescence and large brain of our species and how it came to be. Yet the part of the book that actually made me cry with delight came at the end. Three vignettes moved me greatly, because they were moments that moved Eiseley greatly and he marveled over them.

One concerned a spider, another two sparrowhawks and the another a group of birds. The latter involved a raven who had caught a nestling and carried it to a branch to eat it. "The sound that awoke me was the outraged cries of the nestling's parents, who flew helplessly in circles about the clearing. The sleek black monster was indifferent to them. He gulped, whetted his beak on the dead branch a moment and sat still. Up to that point the little tragedy had followed the usual pattern. But suddenly, out of all that area of woodland, a soft sound of complaint began to rise. Into the glade fluttered small birds of half a dozen varieties drawn by the anguished outcries of the tiny parents. No one dared to attack the raven. But they cried there in some instinctive common misery, the bereaved and the unbereaved. The glade filled with their soft rustling and their cries. They fluttered as though to point their wings at the murderer. There was a dim intangible ethic he had violated, that they knew. He was a bird of death. And he, the murderer, the black bird at the heart of life, sat on there, glistening in the common light, formidable, unmoving, unperturbed, untouchable. The sighing died. It was then I saw....in the midst of protest, they forgot the violence. There, in that clearing, the crystal note of a song sparrow lifted hesitantly in the hush. And finally, after painful fluttering, another took the song, and then another, the song passing from one bird to another, doubtfully at first, as though some evil thing were being slowly forgotten. Till suddenly they took heart and sang from many throats joyously together as birds are known to sing. They sang because life is sweet and sunlight beautiful. They sang under the brooding shadow of the raven. In simple truth they had forgotten the raven, for they were the singers of life, not death." (174-175).

I hope you will read the book for many reasons, not least of which might be to encounter the other two vignettes.

[Thomas · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is a wonderful book. Loren Eisley is an anthropologist who writes like John Donne.

I went to the University of Pennsylvania in the 1960s when Loren Eisley was Professor of Anthropology. He was then recognized as the finest writer at Penn. Though his field was anthropology, every semester he was a guest lecturer for the English department in their Creative Writing classes.

Each chapter starts with a theme from nature, archeology, or biology. Gradually his writing turns from scientific observation to philosophical musing, poetry, and introspection. A perfect example is his chapter called "The Dream Animal."

In "The Dream Animal" Eisley starts by pondering a genuine problem in evolutionary biology - the remarkably short period of time (approx. 500,000 years ago to 150,000 years ago) during which the brain evolved from the size of an apes to modern man. He ends with this -

"The story of Eden is a greater allegory than man has ever guessed. For it was truly man who, walking memoryless through bars of sunlight and shade in the morning of the world, sat down and passed a wondering hand over a heavy forehead. Time and darkness, knowledge of good and evil, have walked with him ever since...a new world of terror and loneliness appears to have been created in the soul of man.

For the first time in four billion years a living creature had contemplated himself and heard with a sudden unaccountable loneliness, the whisper of the wind in the night reeds. Perhaps he knew, there in the grass by the chill waters, that he had before him an immense journey. Perhaps that same foreboding still troubles the hearts of those who walk out of a crowded room and stare with relief in to the abyss of space so long as there is a star to be seen twinkling across those miles of emptiness."

Take your time with this book - read it in a quiet space where Eisley's musings can lead you into musings of your own.

[James Henderson · Rating 4 out of 5]

Simply the most beautiful science writing I have ever read. An “imaginative naturalist,” according to the cover of his book, The Immense Journey. An anthropologist, a scholar, a poet, a genius. Eiseley wears all of these hats. He observes the story of life unfolding throughout history, recounting some of it to us in his own story. “Forward and backward I have gone, and for me it has been an immense journey” (p 13). By the time we read these words we have come to realize that Eiseley is not just talking about his own life’s journey. Eiseley’s narrator is metaphor for the journey of all humankind through the vast dimension of time and space—a journey filled with perplexity, delight, and impermanence. Eiseley might refute that, if he were alive today. He claims he does not pretend to speak for anyone but himself.


“I have given the record of what one man thought as he pursued research and pressed his hands against the confining walls of scientific method in his time. But men see differently. I can at best report only from my own wilderness” (p 13).


This book is science and philosophy presented in lucid, beautiful prose - a reader's delight.

[Britta Böhler · Rating 2 out of 5]

Not quite my cup of tea, too 'spiritual' for my taste and the science part was rather outdated.

[Ryan Lottermoser · Rating 3 out of 5]

“Nevertheless it brought the birds back into my mind, and that faraway song which had travelled with growing strength around a forest clearing years ago - a kind of heroism, a world where even a spider refuses to lie down and die if a rope can still be spun on to a star.”

[Ben Goodridge · Rating 3 out of 5]

Loren Eiseley first got my attention when part of his resonant 1965 essay "The Angry Winter" was reprinted in one of my high school textbooks. The essay stuck with me, but it's only now, 27 years later, that I've read anything else Eiseley's written.

It's a tough book to read in one go. (I was in a hurry.) There are a lot of ideas and they aren't presented symmetrically; at times he drifts into a sort of beat-poet reality, and at times he grips his topic with all the realism of the cynical scientist. The book is not uneven, but you're three-quarters of the way through it before you figure out what he's trying to say.

If that excerpt from "The Angry Winter" shows anything, it's that you don't need the scientific realism to understand the less-worldly spiritual message, especially when scientific reality is probably a bit dated after sixty years. He's a bit limited to the language of his time - did anyone ever seriously call the peoples of southwestern Africa "Hottentots?" - so a certain amount of factoring for context is required. (Which describes literature, basically.)

Note: I think Eiseley is very quotable, in that his essays work well in excerpt, but the hazard of being quotable is being deprived of context. One tends to mentally make selections of interest and discard the rest, at the risk of discarding the core.

[Gregory · Rating 5 out of 5]

A collection of essays reflecting on life's journey through time and connecting with nature through understanding this journey, this has already become one of my favorite books ever. Although there are a few incredibly dull pieces in the middle, most of them were so profound, opening the door to some really great conversation and getting my brain juices flowing in ways that most science books don't.

I think Eiseley's position as a naturalist instead of strictly a scientist is what sets his writing apart, while he is explaining the great understandings we have of the development of life over billions of years, its done in a very elegant and personal way that makes me wish I could see the world through his eyes. Being written in the 1940's gives the book a unique perspective on the topics, so much of what is discussed was a lot newer to them and it was interesting to see how much more we know now and, in many cases, how little we've learned since then. And because Christianity and science were more closely conjoined, there's some really good discussion about how christian scientists interpreted these new findings about our planet.

Anywho, this book really moved me and if you're at all interested in evolution or just want to read some beautiful writing you should track a copy down and at the very least read the piece "The Flow of the River"

[Zach · Rating 4 out of 5]

My microbiology degree and its demands of memorization of cellular respiration and precise locations of carbon molecules throughout biochemical cycles sucked the color out of science. I think I struggled with my studies precisely because each biochemical process was treated as a manufacturing step to be broken into discrete parts and neatly-coordinated diagrams, whereas I thrive in the big picture and its messy ambiguity. So, I wish I had read this book as an undergrad, or found a class that taught such broad strokes of insight. This is evolution written by a scientist who shares his head with a poet, and the product is a beautiful attempt to grasp not just how hydrogen becomes energy but why and what that means on an existential scale.

I loved this and feel like it should be 5 stars, but I don't remember much of it and this is my subjective world, so 4 stars it is.

[Graychin · Rating 5 out of 5]

A remarkable collection of science and nature essays first published as a single volume in 1957. A few of the middle chapters sag or have been superseded in terms of the science they cover (e.g. the Boskop man fossil), but this is nonetheless a stunning book. Eiseley was a serious paleontologist but also a writer of genius. There is not a whiff of the dogmatism or politicization we find in some of today’s science writing. Instead, Eiseley offers us the open, earnest curiosity of a sensitive and comprehensive mind, and a philosopher’s or artist’s vision of the unity of life in its infinite always-changing forms. Some of these pieces (esp. ‘The Flow of the River,’ ‘The Judgment of the Birds,’ and ‘The Secret of Life’) are among the most wonderful nature essays I’ve ever come across and will reward multiple readings.

[Jake · Rating 4 out of 5]

An enjoyable collection of poetic musings by a late naturalist. The prose is beautiful and at times his view points are quite philosophically interesting. Though, ill admit- I doubt it will either shake the mind, or toss the mental salad of a well educated person in the topic of human evolution.

Twas enjoyable nonetheless.

Recommended for :
-Biologists starved for poetry
-existentialists looking for new ways to see themselves
-people who think science is dry and boring

[Chaunceton Bird · Rating 5 out of 5]

Loren Eiseley, in prose that is closely related to poetry, demonstrates to the reader the awe-inspiring nature of being. Of existing as a human as fellow life to the other forms of life we share the world with. And of the incredibly immense journey life has taken as nature crafts it through millions of years. This is a beautiful book.

[Emma · Rating 5 out of 5]

Eiseley's prose here is honestly something else. I feel fortunate to have come across this book, that seems to have come from another space and time entirely. The language is so evocative and paints a vivid image. Reading this book feels a bit like being in the midst of a time lapse of the earth's history from the very beginning, guided by Eiseley's timeless philosophical narrative.

[Maria · Rating 4 out of 5]

Loren Eisley

This is a collection of essays where the overarching topic is evolution. It includes topics such as the history of the scientific discovery of evolution, the search for the beginning of life, the evolution of humans, the author’s own work and experiences as an anthropologist. I was impressed by the scope of the book and pleasantly surprised that he took his immense journey all the way out into the universe (being an astrophysicist myself).

For me the chapters felt a bit uneven, and the purpose or the ordering of every chapter wasn’t always clear to me. Some chapters didn’t seem to belong within the narrative and I lost interest at times, but then suddenly came an amazing chapter again and I kept reading. I could easily see myself picking this up again and reading my favorite essays or my favorite passages. I ended up underlining a lot of passages in this book. Individual sentences, paragraphs, sometimes full pages worth.

I have been reading a lot of popular science books lately (mostly about astronomy), and the language in this book stands out. It’s poetic and beautifully written, with a language that you don’t really see in these types of books these days. Effortless and purposeful, lyrical but not flowery. However, it still feels quite modern in its tone.

Eisley is a great storyteller. One thing I didn’t like about his writing though, is that he sometimes made evolution apper to be a kind of choice of a species or nature in the way he tried to make stories come to life through his poetic language. Like evolution has a mind of its own or like certain aspects of evolution was ‘meant to be’, and I don’t think it’s fortunate to have it come across like that.

There were parts of the book where his wording of his opinions made me smirk or even laugh out loud. I’m not sure if he was trying to be witty or if his brutal honesty just came across that way. The chapter about the Boskop man fossil was hilarious at times (in a good way).

Some of the other reviews mentions that the book is outdated. Of course it is, it’s from the 1950s. But I think that is actually one of the things that is interesting about it – to see what the scientific discussions and atmosphere was like at that time when not so much was figured out yet. It would have been really wonderful to have this book with an afterword written by a scientist today to discuss what has happened in evolutionary science since.

This was my first time reading a book by Eisley and I will definitely check out some of his other works (luckily there are many more to choose from). He felt like an old friend and I want to keep having his company.

[Caitlin · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is one of those books that I really had no reason to read. It's older than my parents and it's a nonfiction book about the evolution of man. No reason to read it. And honestly, I don't even remember why I ended up requesting it in the first place! The mysteries of the brain.

But I did read it. And it was very interesting. It also gave me an existential crisis last night so there's an adventure haha.

Also, I think what makes this book memorable is that the writing in this book is STUNNING. For being NF it is written more eloquently than most fiction and poetry. It's worth reading for that alone.

[Cal · Rating 5 out of 5]

I'd need to re-read this book...likely...twice more to fully *get* it in all of it's captivating nuance, but on read one it has made my list of favorite books and fundamentally influenced my personal philosophy.

So, yeah. Five stars.

[Jackson · Rating 5 out of 5]

A thought provoking and inspiring reflection on life, its origins, and its future. Featuring some of the most stunning prose I have ever read in my life.

Side note: I just learned how to add dates to when I finish books and am pissed off I will not be able to add them to my previous reads.

[Tony Gualtieri · Rating 5 out of 5]

Prose poetry inspired by biology, time, and the mystery of life.

[Carolyn Reynolds · Rating 3 out of 5]

3.5/5

[Peggy · Rating 4 out of 5]

The best of this is lyrical and profound. The worst is inauthentic and dated. Eiseley was a poet-naturalist whose immersion into nature resulted in gorgeous prose.

[Dee · Rating 4 out of 5]

The most beautiful science writing I have ever read!

[Raghu Nathan · Rating 3 out of 5]

I have been an admiring follower of the ongoing 21000-mile odyssey on foot by Paul Salopek. His journey takes him from Ethiopia, all the way to Tierra del Fuego in Argentina and is supposed to take seven years. He blogs and documents his journey and in one of his blogs a few months ago, I came across the following passage:
"Loren Eiseley, a brilliant if almost forgotten essayist of the middle of the last century, wrote of waking up one early morning in a hotel room high above Manhattan and imagining that city emptied of humans and reclaimed, in some future dawn, by birds: “At this hour the city was theirs, and quietly, without the brush of a single wing tip against stone in that high, eerie place, they were taking over the spires of Manhattan. They were pouring upward in a light that was not yet perceptible to human eyes, while far down in the black darkness of the alleys it was still midnight.”
I was enchanted by the imagination and the poetic words. I had never heard of Loren Eiseley till then and so, decided to check out his writings and that is how I ended up reading this book. In the process, I learnt that Dr. Loren Eiseley was a Naturalist and an Anthropologist who spent many years in the search for the early post-glacial man in the Western US.

The book is a collection of essays, essentially on Science, written in lyrical, flowery prose. The poetic writing style explains many ideas on evolution, his views on Nature and man's place in it. I could see that Dr.Eiseley was a wanderer and story-teller, one who travels seamlessly between the past and possibly into the future and one who is in 'flow' as he walks aimlessly in Nature. It reminds me very much of what Paul Salopek himself is doing right now, except that Salopek's blogs apply a natural flow of speech and ordinary grammatical structure. A couple of essays in the book were more interesting to me than the rest.
In the essay 'How Flowers Changed the World', Dr. Eiseley flirts tantalizingly towards a religious or eastern mystical approach to the world as he speculates about mammals having a recognition of their sudden prominence on Earth following the extinction of the giant dinosaurs and consequently being bewildered!

In 'The Bird and the Machine', he writes about going to a long-abandoned cabin in the bush and capturing a young hawk for the zoo. At first, I was puzzled by the inconsistency in the message because I would have thought that someone like Dr. Eiseley would never contemplate caging a bird, which is what a zoo does. But he releases it the next morning to the joyous cries of its mate, which must have been hovering around since the previous day when the young hawk was captured.

'The Great Deeps' speculates on the deep waters of the ocean as closely approximating the conditions under which life originally must have emerged. 'The Real Secret of the Piltdown' explores Alfred Wallace's poser of why the savage possessed a brain that was far beyond his needs.

Though the book seems to have been acclaimed as a true work of science and a piece of great literature, I cannot say that I enjoyed reading it that much. It was rather heavy going and I had the feeling that I didn't learn much that was new. The book was originally written a good sixty to seventy years ago and so, as I read it now, it feels somewhat dated and familiar in its philosophical forays. Some of the knowledge is also superseded by progress in science in the meantime. These essays convey a sense of wonderment at the passage of time in the past, the diversity of life on Earth and our relationship to it and also at the emerging knowledge about the Universe. I suppose in the 1970s, this may have been a great fillip to the baby boomers who rejected materialism, war and middle-class morality. However, today, even though the message is still very relevant, it does not appear fresh and inspirational as it must have been then.

If one enjoys reading mystical essays in Science written in a poetic language, this book is for them.