HOOPER: Look, the situation is that apparently a great white shark has staked a claim in the waters of Amity Island, and he’s going to continue to feed here as long as there is food in the water.
BRODY: And there’s no limit to what he’s gonna do. I mean, we’ve already had three incidents. Two people killed inside a week. And it’s gonna happen again. It happened before. The Jersey Beach…1916. There were five people chewed up in the surf…
HOOPER: In one week.
- Richard Dreyfuss (as Matt Hooper) and Roy Scheider (as Chief Martin Brody) in Jaws (1975)
“Someone on the beach cried across the waves, ‘Watch out!’ As the fin approached, the chorus grew: ‘Watch out! Watch out!’ But Charles could not hear the warnings. He was turning his head in and out of the water in a rhythmic crawl. The great white could see his prey now moving underwater with startling clarity, making what followed even more unusual. For in the great majority of shark attacks on humans, sharks are hurtling through roiling, cloudy water in which they must strike quickly to seize their prey. The flash of a pale foot resembles the darting of a snapper, a belt buckle winks in the sun like a fish scale, and the shark bites. But the great white saw Charles Vansant clearly and kept coming. In the last instant, some researchers have suggested, it detected the final confirmation of mammal: the blood pounding through Charles’s veins.The thumping of his heart…”
- Michael Capuzzo, Close to Shore: The Terrifying Shark Attacks of 1916
Sharks can be terrifying, especially apex predators like the great white. They are primordial creatures cloaked by the depths of the sea, which itself can awe and frighten with its massive size, its incalculable power. It’s the rare person who doesn’t set foot in the ocean and at least wonder what might be below the surface.
That said, shark attacks are not anything you should spend any time worrying about. Even with an increase in incidents, I can guarantee you this: You will not be eaten by a shark. But if this one-hundred percent, ironclad assurance fails to assuage your doubts, I have a foolproof plan.
Stay on the beach.
Despite the ridiculously low odds of a fatal encounter, shark attacks have loomed overlarge in the public consciousness. Recall, for example, the long hot summer of 2001. As al-Qaida hijackers quietly mustered, and as certain members of the intelligence community warned that “the system was blinking red,” America’s eyes were firmly fixed on the seaside, where we observed the “Summer of the Shark” as prelude to the Age of Terror.
While shark-terror is a primitive fear-response that has been around forever, most look to Steven Spielberg’s 1975 Jaws as the coming out party for the villainous shark. Before that classic movie, though, and before the middling novel upon which the movie was based, there were the 1916 shark attacks along the New Jersey shore.
These attacks, which killed four and injured one over the course of twelve days, is the subject of Michael Capuzzo’s Close to Shore.
The main thing to be said about this short book is that it is too long. Capuzzo takes a small historical footnote – one that really only contains enough substance to support a longform article – and tries desperately to inflate that material to book-length. Like one of my kids playing with a wad of gum, he pulls and stretches this story to its breaking point. Somehow, in a 298-page book where all the pertinent facts can be summarized in a paragraph, the first shark attack does not occur until nearly 100-pages have passed.
In other words, Close to Shore is mostly filler.
Now, I am on the record as being mostly pro-filler. Generally, I don’t mind a little bagginess in the books I’m reading. I am in favor of context, and detail, and in over-including rather than leaving stuff out. With that said, the nature of the filler is important.
It is abundantly clear that Capuzzo began Close to Shore with the knowledge that the shark attacks alone would not suffice. Thus, his eye drifts. He intersperses chapters on the shark’s journey with a chapter on the Engleside Hotel, a chapter on Dr. Eugene Vansant (the first victim’s father), and another chapter detailing the train that took bathers to the beach. Pretty soon, the filler overwhelms the substance, as the useless minutiae piles up: Dr. Vansant’s home address; the layout of his home; and the experience of riding the Broadway Limited from Philadelphia to Chicago (it included roast duck á l’orange for dinner).
(For some reason, the filler isn’t even shark-related. In discussing the chomp-chomp-chomp of 1916, it would’ve made sense to explore the history of shark-human interactions, including the overblown summer of 2001, or the feeding frenzy that consumed so many of the initial survivors of the USS Indianapolis. Yet Capuzzo does not go that route).
As any member of my immediate family will tell you, I have no aversion to useless factoids. Indeed, they might tell you that useless factoids is another name for dinner around our house. Still, the way Capuzzo blatantly uses these pennyweight nuggets of info to swell the word count is aggravating.
More aggravating still is his transparent efforts to goose the tension. The shark attack sequences go on for pages, as Capuzzo milks this material for everything it’s worth. The milking goes so far as to stray into territory that is best described as fiction. Specifically, Capuzzo attributes thoughts and feelings to dead victims who never had the opportunity to share those thoughts or feelings.
Capuzzo does the same thing with the shark, tracing its path throughout the book. The catch (pun intended) is that there is no way to know every place the shark traveled, or the time period in which it made these movements. Heck, there are those who posit that the attacks weren’t even the work of a shark, or perhaps were the results of two or more sharks (potentially a great white and a bull shark). Capuzzo does not even reflect upon these possibilities (though admittedly it would be quite the coincidence), instead providing an authoritative recounting of every inch of the great white’s swim, even though its pure speculation. Not surprisingly, there are no endnotes.
Any notion of forgiving this book’s sins was pushed away by Capuzzo’s cheap chicanery, as when he narrates the tumultuous swim of Gertrude Schuyler. Capuzzo describes Schuyler as paddling along “when suddenly without warning an overpowering force pulled her under.” She struggles as she attempts to escape “the grip of the thing,” as surfmen (as lifeguards were then known) rowed to her rescue. At the end of Capuzzo’s breathless little tale, he reveals that Schuyler had been merely drowning. (It is left unsaid, but I assume the “overpowering force” was a riptide).
Close to Shore only really clicks into gear during its final third. Not coincidentally, this is the section of the book where the great white shark (if it was a great white) swims up the Matawan Creek and wreaks havoc on unsuspecting bathers. Here, for the only time, Capuzzo is able to keep his focus on the shark and its victims without having to put sawdust in the flour.
Capuzzo hints at – but unsurprisingly, does not explore – the contours of the knee-jerk, hysterical reaction to the Jersey Shore shark, including calls for shark annihilation patrols.
The reality is that four people died. In 1916. As far as tragedies go, this one is relative. That is to say, during this same period, twenty-four kids in New York City died in a twenty-four hour period from infantile paralysis. At the Battle of the Somme, which began in July 1916, concurrent with the first shark strike, the British alone had some 19,000 fatalities. On the first day. Upon those dismal fields, it would not be surprising for four men to be killed in a fraction of a second. Yet, in America, the world temporarily stopped on its axis because of one rogue great white. It is a mystery of our existence why some things grip our attention, while others do not.
In terms of a recommendation, I give Close to Shore a soft pass. Overall, it’s fine, but it says something to me that when I finished, the first things that came to mind were irritations. If you are really interested in the topic, my suggestion is to spend five minutes reading the Wiki page, and then plop yourself down on the couch for two hours to watch Jaws.
It will be a far more efficient – and enjoyable – use of your time.