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摘要
If anything is endangered in America it is our experience of wild nature--gross contact. There is knowledge only the wild can give us, knowledge specific to it, knowledge specific to the experience of it. These are its gifts to us.How wild is wilderness and how wild are our experiences in it, asks Jack Turner in the pages of The Abstract Wild . His answer: not very wild. National parks and even so-called wilderness areas fall far short of offering the primal, mystic connection possible in wild places. And this is so, Turner avows, because any managed land, never mind what it's called, ceases to be wild. Moreover, what little wildness we have left is fast being destroyed by the very systems designed to preserve it.Natural resource managers, conservation biologists, environmental economists, park rangers, zoo directors, and environmental activists: Turner's new book takes aim at these and all others who labor in the name of preservation. He argues for a new conservation ethic that focuses less on preserving things and more on preserving process and "leaving things be." He takes off after zoos and wilderness tourism with a vengeance, and he cautions us to resist language that calls a tree "a resource" and wilderness "a management unit."Eloquent and fast-paced, The Abstract Wild takes a long view to ask whether ecosystem management isn't "a bit of a sham" and the control of grizzlies and wolves "at best a travesty." Next, the author might bring his readers up-close for a look at pelicans, mountain lions, or Shamu the whale. From whatever angle, Turner stirs into his arguments the words of dozens of other American writers including Thoreau, Hemingway, Faulkner, and environmentalist Doug Peacock.We hunger for a kind of experience deep enough to change our selves, our form of life, writes Turner. Readers who take his words to heart will find, if not their selves, their perspectives on the natural world recast in ways that are hard to ignore and harder to forget.
评论 (2)
出版社周刊评论
These eight provocative essays turn on a common theme: how wildness (once but no longer the essence of wilderness) has been mediated, micromanaged and abstracted nearly out of existence. The essays include rants against the status quo, memoirs of wild places and a tribute to Doug Peacock, who dared to live among grizzlies. Turner, a former academic who's now a mountain guide in the Grand Tetons, infuses his writing with a restless anger, best felt when read fast. At times, he exhibits a penchant for hyperbole ("Yosemite Valley is more like Coney Island than a wilderness"), and his tone can run a bit high-handed, as when he loftily compares his mountaineering to the predilections of pelicans. He is most persuasive when relying on the language of experience: coming upon a wall of prehistoric pictographs in a Utah canyon, tracking a mountain lion in Wyoming, listening to the clacking of soaring white pelicans. One essay, "Economic Nature," starkly reveals both Turner the pedant, excoriating the language of economics that controls the way we see the world, and Turner the meditative poet ("Dig in someplace.... Allow the spirits of your chosen place to speak through you. Say their names."). Both are persuasive. In the end, Turner has produced a manifesto that defends the wild by passionately restoring its good Thoreauvian name. (Oct.) (c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved
Kirkus评论
Loosely connected but powerfully written essays on our relationship to wilderness. Much of the contemporary environmental literature names as enemies of the wild corporate agriculture, logging, mining, and ranching. For first-time author and accomplished Himalayas trekker Turner, the usual suspects will not do; instead, he names as the real enemies the abstractions that govern our lives and divorce us from the natural world. We prefer, Turner says, ``artifice, copy, simulation, and surrogate,'' and what we wind up with are national parks like Yellowstone and Grand Canyon, which resemble nothing so much as Disneyland. We are also addicted to ``economics, recreation, and amusement at the expense of other values,'' which has kept us from leaving wilderness alone. Instead, we cover the landscape with ski lodges, trailer parks, and mountain trails--and free it of its native wildlife, like the 250,000 wild predators the federal government kills on public lands each year. Turner celebrates environmental activists like Edward Abbey, Aldo Leopold, and Doug Peacock while poking fun at current environmentalist orthodoxies and tactics: ``If you go to Mecca and blaspheme the Black Stone, the believers will feed you to the midges, piece by piece. Go to Yellowstone and destroy grizzlies and grizzly habitat, and the believers will dress up in bear costumes, sing songs, and sign petitions.'' And, he observes, wilderness advocates who do not fully acquaint themselves with the wild up close and personal cannot hope to understand the object of their desires: ``Wisdom . . . cannot emerge from tourism in a relic wilderness.'' ``I have been charged with belligerent ecological fundamentalism,'' Turner writes. And for good cause. This sometimes blistering, provocative, well-written book is an ecoradical's dream come true--and every reader concerned with wilderness issues should take it into account.