Phylum-hopping from microbes to coral reefs to orangutans, David Attenborough
offers what may well be one of the most engaging tours ever taken of the
natural world in this, a companion volume to his celebrated BBC series. The
book details the evolutionary path of all earthly life, from prehistoric plants
to present-day man.
That a frog chorus can fill a swamp with a greater
diversity of sound than one would get in a concert hall?
That a shearwater bird
was taken from Wales to Boston and managed to fly itself back home?
“Had
butterflies been color-blind and bees without a delicate sense of smell, man
would have been denied some of the greatest delights that the natural world has
to offer,” he writes.
Is it
possible biology could really be so charming? Not really. Attenborough explains
time and again that evolution and nature are cruel mistresses, and any sense
one might have of progress in life’s development, of intelligent design or even
a friendly guiding hand, is merely a construct divorced from any evidence on
fossilized display. “Such trends are clearer in the minds of men than they are
in the rocks,” he concludes.
The
world Attenborough presents, time and time again, is very much one of dog-eat-dog,
or numerous variations along this theme. Animals develop strategies for
survival which become defining physical characteristics and defensive
mechanisms, but ultimately serve little apparent purpose beyond producing
offspring and providing calories for other creatures who devour them without
mercy.
But the
main takeaway you may get from Life On
Earth is less slaughterhouse than wonderland, a result of Attenborough's
winning manner. He’s not much different than the person you might have seen on
the TV program, starting each episode with a story around a particular
creature, then pulling back to describe what its progress across the centuries
reveals about the nature of evolution. His style is buoyant, curious, sometimes
even humorous.
In
detailing the case of the sloth, Attenborough notes how it rarely descends from
the trees, where it is safe from nearly all predators and enjoys a regular
supply of food. Yet sometimes it does tred upon the ground, for reasons perhaps connected to mating
yet little understood: “No student of animal behavior has yet been brave enough
to contemplate the days and nights of stupefying inactivity that would have to
be endured by anyone who wants to find out more about a sloth’s private life.”
The book
contains a number of fantastic color photos taken on expeditions by
Attenborough himself. These tie in nicely to the various natural life forms
then being discussed.
The book
includes some lengthy discussions of fossils of the earliest known life forms, including
segmented worms and brachiopods which developed horny shells over the course of
a hundred million years. “Many species developed a hole at the hinge end of one
of the valves through which the worm-like stalk emerged to fasten the animal
into the mud,” Attenborough writes. “This gave the shell the look of an
inverted Roman oil lamp, with the stalk as a wick, and so the group as a whole
gained the name of lamp-shells.”
Other,
more advanced but extinct life forms include the trilobite, whose remains can
be found in the once-ocean-covered desert wastes of Morocco Attenborough spends
some time investigating. In the southwestern United States, Attenborough addresses
the story of dinosaurs.
I was
surprised to read him dismiss the idea that the dinosaurs were destroyed by a
sudden cataclysm, the asteroid theory that was already in circulation in the 1970s
and seems more popular today. In this 1979 account, Attenborough points out
that if there had been some sudden environmental catastrophe, “it was only the
dinosaurs that disappeared.” His theory rests more on land-mass movements and
temperature drops, which not only caused mass extinction but forced surviving
creatures to adopt in ways that transformed their basic nature.
Time and
again, Attenborough returns to the theme of practicality driving how animals
find their niches in the tree of life. Why do some birds fly, while others,
less common but still in evidence on various continents, don’t? It comes back
to the fact that in some parts of the world, such as New Zealand, home of the
kiwis, the kakapos, and the takahes, there was no need to fly from predators as
there were no such threats until the arrival of man.
“This
relapse to a ground-living life is an indication of the great demands that
flying puts on a bird’s energies and the amount of food it needs in
consequence,” Attenborough writes. “If life can be led in safety on the ground,
then this is a much easier option and the birds take it.”
The
final chapters are less focused this way as the life forms Attenborough describes
become more complex and seemingly harder to summarize. By the time we get to
man, Attenborough offers some banal anecdotes regarding communication and its
role in our species’ ascendency, detailing a visit to a New Guinea tribe living
in Stone Age isolation. Some pleasantries are exchanged, with Attenborough
expounding on the art of “the eyebrow flash” and how it, like the smile, can be
interpreted as early indications of a desire for peaceful co-existence.
Charming, yes, but it is also the only time the book comes across as too light
and reductive for its own good.
Most of
the way, what you get here is a fine, easy-to-read primer into the nature of
life as we know it. Certainly worth having, especially for those of us who never
found the subject much fun.
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