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World of Wonders: In Praise of Fireflies, Whale Sharks, and Other Astonishments
From beloved, award-winning poet Aimee Nezhukumatathil comes a debut work of nonfiction--a collection of essays about the natural world, and the way its inhabitants can teach, support, and inspire us.
As a child, Nezhukumatathil called many places home: the grounds of a Kansas mental institution, where her Filipina mother was a doctor; the open skies and tall mountains of Arizona, where she hiked with her Indian father; and the chillier climes of western New York and Ohio. But no matter where she was transplanted--no matter how awkward the fit or forbidding the landscape--she was able to turn to our world's fierce and funny creatures for guidance.
"What the peacock can do," she tells us, "is remind you of a home you will run away from and run back to all your life." The axolotl teaches us to smile, even in the face of unkindness; the touch-me-not plant shows us how to shake off unwanted advances; the narwhal demonstrates how to survive in hostile environments. Even in the strange and the unlovely, Nezhukumatathil finds beauty and kinship. For it is this way with wonder: it requires that we are curious enough to look past the distractions in order to fully appreciate the world's gifts.
Warm, lyrical, and gorgeously illustrated by Fumi Nakamura, World of Wonders is a book of sustenance and joy.
As a child, Nezhukumatathil called many places home: the grounds of a Kansas mental institution, where her Filipina mother was a doctor; the open skies and tall mountains of Arizona, where she hiked with her Indian father; and the chillier climes of western New York and Ohio. But no matter where she was transplanted--no matter how awkward the fit or forbidding the landscape--she was able to turn to our world's fierce and funny creatures for guidance.
"What the peacock can do," she tells us, "is remind you of a home you will run away from and run back to all your life." The axolotl teaches us to smile, even in the face of unkindness; the touch-me-not plant shows us how to shake off unwanted advances; the narwhal demonstrates how to survive in hostile environments. Even in the strange and the unlovely, Nezhukumatathil finds beauty and kinship. For it is this way with wonder: it requires that we are curious enough to look past the distractions in order to fully appreciate the world's gifts.
Warm, lyrical, and gorgeously illustrated by Fumi Nakamura, World of Wonders is a book of sustenance and joy.
165 pages, Hardcover
First published September 8, 2020
About the author
Aimee Nezhukumatathil
26 books772 followersauthor of WORLD OF WONDERS: IN PRAISE OF FIREFLIES, WHALE SHARKS, AND OTHER ASTONISHMENTS (Milkweed 2020), and four collections of poetry, most recently, OCEANIC (Copper Canyon, 2018). Professor of English and Glitter, University of Mississippi.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 2,927 reviews
April 13, 2021
This is a love letter to the natural world and family woven with memoir. I actually first published parts of this series in The Butter (RIP) and I am so happy to see what the project has blossomed into. The writing is intimate and so much care is taken. I actually wanted more but I love what is here, the depth of knowledge, the well-chosen details she shares from both her childhood and her adult years. A truly refreshing read.
September 19, 2020
An ambitious and lovely project, to interweave personal essay and nature writing, but too clumsily done for me to enjoy. Each essay is named after a natural phenomenon (plant, animal, typhoon) and makes a facile connection from that to a time in the author's life. The associations are bizarre and contrived. Moving to a new school made the author want to be like a vampire squid because she too wanted to hide? Flamingos have long legs, like the author's, and she spent nights out dancing in college on those long legs, and currently worries for the safety of young girls? I don't understand the point of juxtaposing such disparate subjects. Am I, as a human, supposed to feel more connected to the natural world because the mouths of ribbon eels hang open like human babies' mouths (or at least, the author's human baby's mouth)? Or am I supposed to be moved to wonder by the unfathomable alienness of other species, because in learning less than I wanted to know about ribbon eels and more than I wanted to know about the author's early months with her infant, all the differences between those phenomena are called to mind? Am I supposed to be charmed into such ecstasies by the sheer whimsy of it all that my rational brain shuts down? I think what it comes down to is that neither her personal experiences nor the natural phenomena were explored with anywhere near enough detail to immerse me. The little tidbits about interesting creatures only left me wanting to learn more--which would great, if that was a feeling left by a nature book upon its conclusion, but I was left wanting to learn more about the animal while instead having to read boring facts about her personal life. --I'm NOT saying the the author's life is boring. Modern fiction has shown that any life can be riveting material. I'm saying the author writes about her life in a boring way. Generalized accounts of certain life periods, not at all rich in detail. An occasional lifeless anecdote. She's a poet, I understand, but I was surprised that there was nothing at the level of language to make up for the narrative deficiencies.
A small side complaint, but the casually dropped privilege grated at times. "Oh, the last time I was snorkeling in the South China Sea...". Lady. Please.
Yes, there is a phrase "childlike wonder" for a reason. There is something childlike about wonder: looking at the world as though you have never seen anything like it, as if you were just born. That does not mean that, in order to cultivate this childlike wonder, books need to *speak to the reader as though she is a child.* "These suckers contains [sic] about ten thousand sensory neurons that detect texture, shape, and, most of all, taste. How wild to have even just one sucker on the inside cup of our hands. Just one!" How wild, indeed.
This may have gotten two stars for being inoffensive, at least, except it was a little offensive. I am used to references, in other media, to practices I dislike but most people find acceptable--hunting octopuses, clipping pet bird's wings--and just have to shake it off, but this book is supposed to be ABOUT how wondrous octopuses and birds are. I guess I'm naive to be surprised when environmental writing doesn't seem attuned to animal rights. I only forced myself to finish this because it's so short, and yet it felt so long--thank God I'm finally done, and hungry for a better book. Pass the octopus.
A small side complaint, but the casually dropped privilege grated at times. "Oh, the last time I was snorkeling in the South China Sea...". Lady. Please.
Yes, there is a phrase "childlike wonder" for a reason. There is something childlike about wonder: looking at the world as though you have never seen anything like it, as if you were just born. That does not mean that, in order to cultivate this childlike wonder, books need to *speak to the reader as though she is a child.* "These suckers contains [sic] about ten thousand sensory neurons that detect texture, shape, and, most of all, taste. How wild to have even just one sucker on the inside cup of our hands. Just one!" How wild, indeed.
This may have gotten two stars for being inoffensive, at least, except it was a little offensive. I am used to references, in other media, to practices I dislike but most people find acceptable--hunting octopuses, clipping pet bird's wings--and just have to shake it off, but this book is supposed to be ABOUT how wondrous octopuses and birds are. I guess I'm naive to be surprised when environmental writing doesn't seem attuned to animal rights. I only forced myself to finish this because it's so short, and yet it felt so long--thank God I'm finally done, and hungry for a better book. Pass the octopus.
March 18, 2021
I discovered this book while doing some book shopping on Barnes and Noble’s website. It was advertised as the book of the year. Because I’m a nature lover, it was one I had to try. I was pleasantly enlightened from the first pages.
The essays in this book connect nature to parts of the author’s life from childhood to adulthood and now as a married woman and mother. The writings include facts about plants and animals along with short anecdotes regarding some part of her past. The stories were interesting, and many were eye-opening for me. This book emphasizes–in a fresh, unique way–that there’s so much we can learn from the natural wonders around us if we’d only open our eyes. Some of the connections the author made seemed a tad bit far-fetched, but it was something easily overlooked, and I found most to be beautifully woven.
“I know I will search for fireflies all the rest of my days, even though they dwindle a little bit more each year. I can’t help it. They blink on and off, a lime glow to the summer night air, as if to say: I am still here, you are still here, I am still here, you are still here, I am, you are, over and over again. Perhaps I can will it to be true. Perhaps I can keep those summer nights with my family inside an empty jam jar, with holes poked in the lid, a twig and a few strands of grass tucked inside. And for those unimaginable nights in the future, when I know I’ll miss my mother the most, I will let that jar’s sweet glow serve as a night-light to cool and cut the air for me."
Some favorites include “Firefly,” “Peacock,” “Cactus Wren,” “Corpse Flower,” and “Axolotl.” There was something I enjoyed about nearly every essay. After sharing portions of the book with my older children, it opened up discussion about the importance of encouragement and other thoughts on gratitude, appreciation, and even mindfulness. We all enjoyed the gorgeous and whimsical illustrations by Fumi Nakamura which complement the essays perfectly.
Nature lovers will enjoy this one. It’s definitely memorable for me, and I’m thankful to have it on my shelf.
5*****
The essays in this book connect nature to parts of the author’s life from childhood to adulthood and now as a married woman and mother. The writings include facts about plants and animals along with short anecdotes regarding some part of her past. The stories were interesting, and many were eye-opening for me. This book emphasizes–in a fresh, unique way–that there’s so much we can learn from the natural wonders around us if we’d only open our eyes. Some of the connections the author made seemed a tad bit far-fetched, but it was something easily overlooked, and I found most to be beautifully woven.
“I know I will search for fireflies all the rest of my days, even though they dwindle a little bit more each year. I can’t help it. They blink on and off, a lime glow to the summer night air, as if to say: I am still here, you are still here, I am still here, you are still here, I am, you are, over and over again. Perhaps I can will it to be true. Perhaps I can keep those summer nights with my family inside an empty jam jar, with holes poked in the lid, a twig and a few strands of grass tucked inside. And for those unimaginable nights in the future, when I know I’ll miss my mother the most, I will let that jar’s sweet glow serve as a night-light to cool and cut the air for me."
Some favorites include “Firefly,” “Peacock,” “Cactus Wren,” “Corpse Flower,” and “Axolotl.” There was something I enjoyed about nearly every essay. After sharing portions of the book with my older children, it opened up discussion about the importance of encouragement and other thoughts on gratitude, appreciation, and even mindfulness. We all enjoyed the gorgeous and whimsical illustrations by Fumi Nakamura which complement the essays perfectly.
Nature lovers will enjoy this one. It’s definitely memorable for me, and I’m thankful to have it on my shelf.
5*****
April 11, 2022
UPDATE: $1.99 kindle US today 4/11/22
4.5 Stars ⭐️
I loved the majority of this book.
Mel 🖤🐶🐺🐾
4.5 Stars ⭐️
I loved the majority of this book.
Mel 🖤🐶🐺🐾
March 14, 2021
From its gorgeous cover, to the wonderful excerpts within, this book was a delight. What a unique way to tell parts of one's life while enlightening the reader to so many unique parts of nature. The dancing frog, I can just imagine this tiny frog dancing on a rock to attract a mate, to the hardy cactus wren, the largest wren at seven inches. Cara cara oranges, with pink insides, the giving of citrus a token of love. Glass jangling bracelets and the cute axolotl. The magic of fireflies and butterflies. The stinky, unusual corpse flower. Nature in all it's glory and uniqueness.
Each tied to a part of the authors life, memories entwined with nature and the things she sees, admires. Her family moved alot, starting over as a child she read much, noticed much. Nature became her friend, a constant, in all parts of our country and other countries as well. Short chapters each illuminating a particular subject with ties to herself. I loved when she said that she learned to be still by watching birds. To find the tranquility and tenderness in your quietness.
This last year of Covid seclusion, my trips to my river have provided me with a keen sense of just how much nature can give back. We really need to notice, take care of and cherish it more than we do.
Each tied to a part of the authors life, memories entwined with nature and the things she sees, admires. Her family moved alot, starting over as a child she read much, noticed much. Nature became her friend, a constant, in all parts of our country and other countries as well. Short chapters each illuminating a particular subject with ties to herself. I loved when she said that she learned to be still by watching birds. To find the tranquility and tenderness in your quietness.
This last year of Covid seclusion, my trips to my river have provided me with a keen sense of just how much nature can give back. We really need to notice, take care of and cherish it more than we do.
October 8, 2020
This is truly an 11 out of 10. With the world spinning in the wrong direction, the time had been doing me and I had not been able to do the time. Then this book, which I’ve been anxiously awaiting for MONTHS, smacked me in the face. It wasn’t what I expected, starting with it’s small format, and was so much more than I expected (I’ll confess I got a recent sneak peek when she was interviewed by the eloquent Kiese Laymon). His quote... “this book is about to shake the Earth.”
It shook the ground under my feet. I’m headed OUTDOORS to sit under what I didn’t know was a Catalpa tree and dream of having half her childhood recall, half her way with words (!), half her love of the ordinary, and half her style.
I’ll also dream of one day spending more time in Oxford, MS and of having a chance to buy her and her husband a sazerac. We will drink it outside, under the stars for sure.
It shook the ground under my feet. I’m headed OUTDOORS to sit under what I didn’t know was a Catalpa tree and dream of having half her childhood recall, half her way with words (!), half her love of the ordinary, and half her style.
I’ll also dream of one day spending more time in Oxford, MS and of having a chance to buy her and her husband a sazerac. We will drink it outside, under the stars for sure.
January 20, 2021
I downloaded this from Hoopla and read a couple of short essays every morning. Gorgeous writing about the natural world of insects, fish and birds, combined with vignettes from her personal life. It was a great way to start the day.
April 6, 2020
This is the kind of gentle and lyrical ecotone I've always wished I could write, and am thrilled for everyone on planet Earth to read. Through ancestry, travel, academic study, and her childhood, motherhood, and career experiences as a woman of color, Nezhukumatathil illuminates a brief yet moving display of life through nature.
The essays on fireflies and the Southern Cassowary were my personal favorites, but each animal and anecdote left me with a new creature factoid; a deep nostalgia for my own outdoor upbringing; an urge to observe and protect the natural world. Without a doubt, I will be returning to this collection again and again, for the humor and hope elicited by Nezhukumatathil's words, as well as Fumi Nakamura's original art (which adds an extra, gripping detail to the collection that I want to have printed on my walls)!
The essays on fireflies and the Southern Cassowary were my personal favorites, but each animal and anecdote left me with a new creature factoid; a deep nostalgia for my own outdoor upbringing; an urge to observe and protect the natural world. Without a doubt, I will be returning to this collection again and again, for the humor and hope elicited by Nezhukumatathil's words, as well as Fumi Nakamura's original art (which adds an extra, gripping detail to the collection that I want to have printed on my walls)!
October 5, 2020
I feel awful for giving this collection one-star, but I just couldn’t finish it. I’m sure Nezhukumatathil is a great poet and I wouldn’t object to trying out her poetry, but this wasn’t it. The binding and design of the book itself is gorgeous, but sadly its contents don’t even come close to its physical beauty.
These essays were flat and generic. Essay after essay felt like a half-hearted first draft. The first few essays were quaint and lovely to read, but after the first few I started to wonder when they would go deeper and read more than a personalized encyclopedia entry. The writing didn’t stand out to me, and at times it felt clunky and awkward if anything. I found the language in the essay “touch-me-nots” (and others) a little cringe: “Well, I still coo over its delightful pinnation, the double leaf pattern feathering outward then inward from both sides of a single stem, and its spherical lavender-pink flowers, which bloom only in summer, and look as jf someone crossed a My Little Pony doll with a tiny firework” (25). The essay ends: “How I wish I could fold inward and shut down and shake off predators with one touch. What a skill, what a thrill that could be: touch me not on the dance floor, don’t you see my wedding ring?...” (26-27) and delves into a “touch me not” tirade, but it feels cheap, a little cliche. It feels so formulaic: touch-me-nots —> I don’t want to be touched! —> let’s write that! —> that’s an essay? What more could be done with this??
Many of the essays are only a few pages long and they oftentimes try to do more work than they can pull off in that space. For example, the essay on comb jellies contrasts their fragility to the author’s childhood glass bangles. This imagery and connection is established and then the essay suddenly ends. Every essay does this, and after several it left me really wanting for more detail, more explanation.
I liked the idea of this book. I did enjoy some of the mini essays, like Catalpa Tree— I live in Kansas, surrounded by catalpas and it was a little treat to read about someone else’s life in Kansas. I learned quite a few tidbits along the way and discovered new creatures.
Ultimately though, I think this book needed a lot more work done before it was released. It’s a fantastic concept, but feels unfinished.
These essays were flat and generic. Essay after essay felt like a half-hearted first draft. The first few essays were quaint and lovely to read, but after the first few I started to wonder when they would go deeper and read more than a personalized encyclopedia entry. The writing didn’t stand out to me, and at times it felt clunky and awkward if anything. I found the language in the essay “touch-me-nots” (and others) a little cringe: “Well, I still coo over its delightful pinnation, the double leaf pattern feathering outward then inward from both sides of a single stem, and its spherical lavender-pink flowers, which bloom only in summer, and look as jf someone crossed a My Little Pony doll with a tiny firework” (25). The essay ends: “How I wish I could fold inward and shut down and shake off predators with one touch. What a skill, what a thrill that could be: touch me not on the dance floor, don’t you see my wedding ring?...” (26-27) and delves into a “touch me not” tirade, but it feels cheap, a little cliche. It feels so formulaic: touch-me-nots —> I don’t want to be touched! —> let’s write that! —> that’s an essay? What more could be done with this??
Many of the essays are only a few pages long and they oftentimes try to do more work than they can pull off in that space. For example, the essay on comb jellies contrasts their fragility to the author’s childhood glass bangles. This imagery and connection is established and then the essay suddenly ends. Every essay does this, and after several it left me really wanting for more detail, more explanation.
I liked the idea of this book. I did enjoy some of the mini essays, like Catalpa Tree— I live in Kansas, surrounded by catalpas and it was a little treat to read about someone else’s life in Kansas. I learned quite a few tidbits along the way and discovered new creatures.
Ultimately though, I think this book needed a lot more work done before it was released. It’s a fantastic concept, but feels unfinished.
January 9, 2021
The author’s love of the natural world is apparent in this collection of short essays. Unfortunately, her attempt to connect her understanding of the natural world with events in her life often seemed like she was really reaching.
July 12, 2021
I was absolutely blown away by World of Wonders. Because it is a collection of essays, I did not expect to become so emotionally involved with Aimee's story... silly, now that I think of it: Length does not always measure emotional capacity.
This book dives deep into Aimee's observations of various plants and animals and the lessons we can learn from them. It's an exploration of Aimee's childhood growing up with a Filipiina mother and an Indian father. Described as a warm, lyrical book of sustenance and joy, World of Wonders is a celebration of LIFE and the world's many gifts.
This book dives deep into Aimee's observations of various plants and animals and the lessons we can learn from them. It's an exploration of Aimee's childhood growing up with a Filipiina mother and an Indian father. Described as a warm, lyrical book of sustenance and joy, World of Wonders is a celebration of LIFE and the world's many gifts.
October 25, 2020
There’s a nice selection of subjects here, but I really couldn’t get one with this style of writing - almost painful.
April 11, 2021
'The butterfly counts not months but moments, and has time enough.' Rabindranath Tagore
I enjoyed a virtual author event with Aimee Nezhukumatahil on March 11, 2021, presented by St Mary's College, Notre Dame, IN. Afterwards I was so excited to read and savor her beautiful essays.
One can enjoy this collection of essays on so many different levels. First for the author's lovely and poetic writing. Then for her love of nature and the environment. In each essay she describes one particular creature and how it relates to her life's experiences. The saddest of these all is the last one in which she revisits her favorite fireflies. During a recent visit to an elementary school during National Poetry Month, she was dismayed to discover that 17 out of 22 students had never seen a firefly and thought she was making them up. She had to bring up a video online to show them proof that they exist! A little questioning revealed these kids were normally inside during those moments close to dusk in May when fireflies might be seen--perhaps on their devices instead of playing outdoors. How sad! How can we foster a love for the environment if no one is spending time in it and exploring the wonders of nature?
Another of the themes of her writing is her experience of being a brown girl in a white world. Her mother is Filipino and her father, Indian, both professionals who moved their family around the US fairly frequently. There are so many wounds we receive as children and being 'different' in any way is often the cause.
When I heard Aimee speak at St Mary's College, some of her advice was directed to writing students, such as: choose a topic and begin, then bring in personal stories that relate. Maybe that takes you in a different direction for a while but be sure to come back and tie it all together. That is very much what she has done in these essays.
On a final note, I should mention the lovely cover art and illustrations that accompany these essays. This book would make a wonderful gift for Mother's day or many other occasions.
I enjoyed a virtual author event with Aimee Nezhukumatahil on March 11, 2021, presented by St Mary's College, Notre Dame, IN. Afterwards I was so excited to read and savor her beautiful essays.
One can enjoy this collection of essays on so many different levels. First for the author's lovely and poetic writing. Then for her love of nature and the environment. In each essay she describes one particular creature and how it relates to her life's experiences. The saddest of these all is the last one in which she revisits her favorite fireflies. During a recent visit to an elementary school during National Poetry Month, she was dismayed to discover that 17 out of 22 students had never seen a firefly and thought she was making them up. She had to bring up a video online to show them proof that they exist! A little questioning revealed these kids were normally inside during those moments close to dusk in May when fireflies might be seen--perhaps on their devices instead of playing outdoors. How sad! How can we foster a love for the environment if no one is spending time in it and exploring the wonders of nature?
Another of the themes of her writing is her experience of being a brown girl in a white world. Her mother is Filipino and her father, Indian, both professionals who moved their family around the US fairly frequently. There are so many wounds we receive as children and being 'different' in any way is often the cause.
When I heard Aimee speak at St Mary's College, some of her advice was directed to writing students, such as: choose a topic and begin, then bring in personal stories that relate. Maybe that takes you in a different direction for a while but be sure to come back and tie it all together. That is very much what she has done in these essays.
On a final note, I should mention the lovely cover art and illustrations that accompany these essays. This book would make a wonderful gift for Mother's day or many other occasions.
December 20, 2020
I don't usually write negative reviews but this book really just pushed me.
Two thirds in, I decided to stop because the writing style is very grating. I usually love when writers lean onto nature to describe themselves, but here the comparisons that are drawn lack subtlety. Each chapter, a living creature or natural phenomenon is described, and then the author quickly draws a line to their own experiences/feelings etc. Instead of having something that weaves nature and self, it sounds almost forced. The collection reads as rushed and barely researched.
Also, the author's class privilege is very obvious and only mentioned in passing and never acknowledged, which for a collection of personal essays/a memoir of sorts is an added annoyance. This collection failed to reach the goal it set (creating and navigating wonder), instead sounding trite and superficial.
Two thirds in, I decided to stop because the writing style is very grating. I usually love when writers lean onto nature to describe themselves, but here the comparisons that are drawn lack subtlety. Each chapter, a living creature or natural phenomenon is described, and then the author quickly draws a line to their own experiences/feelings etc. Instead of having something that weaves nature and self, it sounds almost forced. The collection reads as rushed and barely researched.
Also, the author's class privilege is very obvious and only mentioned in passing and never acknowledged, which for a collection of personal essays/a memoir of sorts is an added annoyance. This collection failed to reach the goal it set (creating and navigating wonder), instead sounding trite and superficial.
January 31, 2021
I needed this collection right now. What the author calls "love songs to the planet," with her two young sons in mind, are a beautiful collection of personal essays linking memories of her own life with observations and wonder about the natural world. She has the eye and cadence from her experience as a poet, as well as the joy of being the mother of two curious young sons, and her meditations on the natural world and our society are just a delight to read. This collection could have been three times the length and I would be here for it. How I wish I had been able to take a writing class with her when I was younger. Her University of Mississippi students have a treasure in the classroom.
May 12, 2022
A Different Way of Seeing
The way this book was written was quite interesting. Who would have thought to write essays about animals and insects as they relate it to ones life? The author did, and I can’t duplicate anything that she has placed in this book. It makes for a difficult book to review. I will try by putting in my own life examples.
When I was a young girl of sixteen, my uncle took me and my grandmother to visit our relatives in West plains, Missouri. What beautiful country, I thought. I would love to live there with the afternoon showers dancing on the green grasses, and at evening the fireflies came out much like the stars in the night skies, twinkling too. I had never seen them before and spent the evenings in my cousin’s yard watching and then chasing them. I carried two of them home in a jar, but they died on the way to California. Now I know that once they begin to light up at night, their life only lasts for two more weeks. I had loved them all these years.
At Disneyland I sat in a restaurant where I could see part of “Pirates of the Caribbean.” Sitting close to the water I could see its fireflies. They looked so real.
Then when my husband and I retired, we moved to East Oklahoma, and area that is green as Missouri. Every summer we have fireflies. For a few years I would sit outside and watch the fireflies, but then one day I only paid them a glance when they first came out. Never take things for granted for one day you may find that they have all died off, or your eyes may dim, and you will not be able to see their lights. You may even forget that they ever existed.
The way this book was written was quite interesting. Who would have thought to write essays about animals and insects as they relate it to ones life? The author did, and I can’t duplicate anything that she has placed in this book. It makes for a difficult book to review. I will try by putting in my own life examples.
When I was a young girl of sixteen, my uncle took me and my grandmother to visit our relatives in West plains, Missouri. What beautiful country, I thought. I would love to live there with the afternoon showers dancing on the green grasses, and at evening the fireflies came out much like the stars in the night skies, twinkling too. I had never seen them before and spent the evenings in my cousin’s yard watching and then chasing them. I carried two of them home in a jar, but they died on the way to California. Now I know that once they begin to light up at night, their life only lasts for two more weeks. I had loved them all these years.
At Disneyland I sat in a restaurant where I could see part of “Pirates of the Caribbean.” Sitting close to the water I could see its fireflies. They looked so real.
Then when my husband and I retired, we moved to East Oklahoma, and area that is green as Missouri. Every summer we have fireflies. For a few years I would sit outside and watch the fireflies, but then one day I only paid them a glance when they first came out. Never take things for granted for one day you may find that they have all died off, or your eyes may dim, and you will not be able to see their lights. You may even forget that they ever existed.
April 26, 2024
This book was SO frustrating. Seduced by the gorgeous cover, I bought it on impulse, thinking that the author and I would share a keen sense of wonder in the natural world and a love of good writing, and that this would be the middle ground between a professor of English and a field biologist.
Instead, I got a series of essays that used each featured biological organism as a connector (often very tenuous) to Aimee Nezhukumatathil's memoir-ish writings about what seems to be a pretty ordinary life: growing up brown in middle America, getting married, having children. I came for the corpse flowers and octopuses, not
I really, really doubt it.
And
As one brown first gen American to another, I agree that racism sucks. But I thought this would be about amphibians.
This is just not the perspective I'm looking for in my nature writing, and despite the occasional interesting tidbit of fact, I would argue this is not nature writing at all. I wrote in my reading notes, "I resent the way this author has taken some of my favorite organisms and made them about human experiences." They're not so much subjects as metaphors, never mind that these are evolutionary wonders that exist beyond human consciousness, that have lives and sentiences that we cannot fully understand but definitely go beyond, say, the judginess with which Nezhukumatathil anthropomorphizes octopuses. For a book entitled World of Wonders, there's little wonder in here, plus a weirdly circumscribed view of the non-human world.
It's like Nezhukumatathil thinks she has her finger on the pulse of each ecosystem she explores, but she's using her thumb, so the pulse she feels is actually her own. It's fine if you like memoir and enjoy reinforcing (inevitably, to some extent) anthropocentric worldviews, but what I'm looking for in nature writing (see The Trees in My Forest, The Living Mountain) is a profound relationship with and active curiosity in an ecosystem beyond its relevance to human emotions and memories.
I was disappointed in the writing as well. What are they teaching in schools these days? Nezhukumatathil comes across occasionally as coy (a bird is "three apples tall" - is that three mini lunchbox Galas tall, or three statuesque Cosmic Crisps tall?), an accent is "coconutty," and when it comes to children, things get stickily sentimental.
From a bit about the cara cara orange, which I thought I'd love (my second favorite citrus!):
I also put this book down in outrage at a page-long account of the dying of a hunted octopus, at which the author claims to feel "sheer despair," then notes, "My son never ate an octopus again." Yeah? What about you? How long did that despair last before you started eating this intelligent and intriguingly alien animal again?
The one bit I felt completely in sympathy with the author was when she talks about using her love for chasing corpse flower blooms around the country to filter out bad dates. If I ever find myself dating again, I will be sure to bring up my deep love for poisonous plants, timing the bit about Socrates for when they take a sip of wine.
Unrated due to book/reader mismatch, but for me, World of Wonders was as irritating as a papercut, and I cannot recommend it to anyone (but especially - misanthrope biologists, steer clear).
Edited one month later to say: I'm still angry about this book, so one star it is.
Instead, I got a series of essays that used each featured biological organism as a connector (often very tenuous) to Aimee Nezhukumatathil's memoir-ish writings about what seems to be a pretty ordinary life: growing up brown in middle America, getting married, having children. I came for the corpse flowers and octopuses, not
The wiggle of [the ribbon eel's] body - the undulation to end all undulations - is like my own tongue, excited to tell my husband all the minutiae of a day spent alone with our three-year-old and our infant son, Jasper.
I really, really doubt it.
And
If a white girl tries to tell you what your brown skin can and cannot wear for makeup, just remember the smile of an axolotl. The best thing to do in that moment is to just smile and smile, even if your smile is thin. [...] An axolotl can help you smile as an adult even if someone on your tenure committee puts his palms together as if in prayer every time he sees you off-campus, and does a quick, short bow, and calls out, Namaste!.
As one brown first gen American to another, I agree that racism sucks. But I thought this would be about amphibians.
This is just not the perspective I'm looking for in my nature writing, and despite the occasional interesting tidbit of fact, I would argue this is not nature writing at all. I wrote in my reading notes, "I resent the way this author has taken some of my favorite organisms and made them about human experiences." They're not so much subjects as metaphors, never mind that these are evolutionary wonders that exist beyond human consciousness, that have lives and sentiences that we cannot fully understand but definitely go beyond, say, the judginess with which Nezhukumatathil anthropomorphizes octopuses. For a book entitled World of Wonders, there's little wonder in here, plus a weirdly circumscribed view of the non-human world.
It's like Nezhukumatathil thinks she has her finger on the pulse of each ecosystem she explores, but she's using her thumb, so the pulse she feels is actually her own. It's fine if you like memoir and enjoy reinforcing (inevitably, to some extent) anthropocentric worldviews, but what I'm looking for in nature writing (see The Trees in My Forest, The Living Mountain) is a profound relationship with and active curiosity in an ecosystem beyond its relevance to human emotions and memories.
I was disappointed in the writing as well. What are they teaching in schools these days? Nezhukumatathil comes across occasionally as coy (a bird is "three apples tall" - is that three mini lunchbox Galas tall, or three statuesque Cosmic Crisps tall?), an accent is "coconutty," and when it comes to children, things get stickily sentimental.
From a bit about the cara cara orange, which I thought I'd love (my second favorite citrus!):
You and your brother are the very plump and sweet fruit she'd always hoped to one day squeeze. When daily news seems to bring forth another fresh grief - more children killed, the Amazon rainforest ablaze for weeks - I think of this orange, its sweetness and the smiles it brings to so many families.
I also put this book down in outrage at a page-long account of the dying of a hunted octopus, at which the author claims to feel "sheer despair," then notes, "My son never ate an octopus again." Yeah? What about you? How long did that despair last before you started eating this intelligent and intriguingly alien animal again?
The one bit I felt completely in sympathy with the author was when she talks about using her love for chasing corpse flower blooms around the country to filter out bad dates. If I ever find myself dating again, I will be sure to bring up my deep love for poisonous plants, timing the bit about Socrates for when they take a sip of wine.
Unrated due to book/reader mismatch, but for me, World of Wonders was as irritating as a papercut, and I cannot recommend it to anyone (but especially - misanthrope biologists, steer clear).
Edited one month later to say: I'm still angry about this book, so one star it is.
December 22, 2020
I enjoy reading about nature, especially people’s interactions with nature and their thoughts about conservation. Some of the essays were thought-provoking, but at some points the writing felt naive and cliche. I liked the essays that focused on her difficulties with moving around as a child and how she found solace in nature. I didn’t like the essays that seemed...privileged for lack of a better word. For example, she goes to Greece and sends her students out in the ocean to hunt octopus. When they pull one out of the water and bring it to shore so she can look at one for entertainment, she is excited and then switches to being in “sheer despair” to realize it was dying. She tries to put it back in the ocean in time, but it dies. She says she hopes it could feel her love for it. It made me cringe and wonder why she thought it was a good idea at the time to pluck one out of its environment to satisfy her curiosity and why she thought it was a good idea to bring it up in the book as an interesting experience. Although there were some good stories, that one ruined the book for me.
August 2, 2021
Maybe I'm just a sucker for nature writing. What we have here is a collection of essays using nature as a a springboard. Talk of peacocks, corpse flowers and fireflies are a useful jumping off point to discuss growing up a latchkey kid, reflecting on otherness and what love means. All with the thoughtful and reverent wonder of a poet. It is a deft exploration of our connected lives and how nature, when considered more closely, can frame our experiences without devolving into cloying bromides and crunchy platitudes.
Fumi Nakamura provides the accompanying illustrations that preface most of the stories — and while beautiful, they don't fully express the biting sharpness of her original artistic works that are certainly worth checking out.
Fumi Nakamura provides the accompanying illustrations that preface most of the stories — and while beautiful, they don't fully express the biting sharpness of her original artistic works that are certainly worth checking out.
September 9, 2020
Some essays are better than others there’s the occasional twee bullshit that’s annoyingly typical of The Toast but the feelings of love and wonder that fill the book charmed me in the end.
January 21, 2023
This is one of the most beautiful books I have read. The illustrations are gorgeous! I didn't want it to end.
"For me, what a single firefly can do is this: it can light a memory I thought was long lost in roadsides overrun with Queen Anne's Lace and goldenrod, a peach pie cooling in the window of a distant house. It might make me feel like I'm traveling again to a gathering of loved ones dining seaside on a Greek island, listening to cicada song and a light wind rustling the mimosa trees."
"Listen: Boom. Can you hear that? The cassowary is still trying to tell us something. Boom. Did you see that? A single firefly is, too. Such a tiny light, for such a considerable task. Its luminescence could very well be the spark that reminds us to make a turn-a shift and a swing and a switch-toward cherishing this magnificent and wondrous planet. Boom. Boom. You might think of a heartbeat-your own. A child's. Someone else's. Or some thing's heart. And in that slowdown, you might think it's a kind of love. And you'd be right."
I look forward to reading some poetry from this writer next. Highly recommend!
"For me, what a single firefly can do is this: it can light a memory I thought was long lost in roadsides overrun with Queen Anne's Lace and goldenrod, a peach pie cooling in the window of a distant house. It might make me feel like I'm traveling again to a gathering of loved ones dining seaside on a Greek island, listening to cicada song and a light wind rustling the mimosa trees."
"Listen: Boom. Can you hear that? The cassowary is still trying to tell us something. Boom. Did you see that? A single firefly is, too. Such a tiny light, for such a considerable task. Its luminescence could very well be the spark that reminds us to make a turn-a shift and a swing and a switch-toward cherishing this magnificent and wondrous planet. Boom. Boom. You might think of a heartbeat-your own. A child's. Someone else's. Or some thing's heart. And in that slowdown, you might think it's a kind of love. And you'd be right."
I look forward to reading some poetry from this writer next. Highly recommend!
January 12, 2024
impeccably brilliant how she manages to weave fun facts about nature into her personal experiences. as a filipino gal myself, i found a lot of her anecdotes relatable. I'll also forever be fascinated by animals & weird plants lol. the cassowary chapter had to be the most shocking for me. but i also learned a lot about narwhals, axolotls, and flamingos from this hah i'm so glad i finally picked this up as my first nonfiction of 2024!
October 30, 2020
Summary: The structure of this book felt random, while the mash-up of memoir with nature writing and the prose were hit or miss for me.
This book of nature essays blended with moments of memoir is poet Aimee Nezhukumatathil's debut work of nonfiction. It's also the first of the Kirkus Prize shortlisted books that I haven't enjoyed. Part of this may be because I picked it up only knowing the title and that the book was on the shortlist. I expected a work focused on nature writing and didn't enjoy the unexpected forays into memoir. I typically really enjoy books that are memoir + something else though and I think there are problems with this that would have bothered me regardless of expectations.
Most elements of this book were hit or miss for me. The writing was sometimes truly beautiful. Lovely nature descriptions seemed fitting from an author who's also a poet. Sometimes the humor or wonder she found shown through in more informal descriptions of an animals appearance or habits. At other times, word choices seemed odd to me ('after an especially plus amount of warm rain', for example) or descriptions left me still unable to even picture the animal she described.
The way the memoir sections were combined with nature writing almost never worked for me. There were very few essays where I thought the nature writing and memoir were adequately connected. Sometimes a plant or animal was a small , non-essential part of the scene described in the memoir section. At other times, the relationship was even more tenuous. An example that particularly irked me was a chapter on eels. They were connected to the memoir section only because the author saw a similarity between their open-mouthed stair and her child's constant, open-mouthed awe at the world.
The structure simply baffled me. Almost every section was named for an animal or plant, but several felt completely random. Some sections were almost all memoir, some were exclusively nature writing, others were a more even blend. The essays largely moved forward chronologically in her life, but that only made the breaks from this structure more confusing. I don't think this lack of structure will bother every reader, but I particularly enjoy a clever pattern in the structure of a book. The randomness here did not work for me.
A few of the author's stories made an emotional connection for me. A few animal descriptions did contain wonder-inducing new information or beautiful descriptions. Overall though, it's a good thing this book was such a short one, because I was mostly bored and bewildered. Definitely at the bottom of my list for the Kirkus Prize and not a book I can recommend.This review was originally posted on Doing Dewey
This book of nature essays blended with moments of memoir is poet Aimee Nezhukumatathil's debut work of nonfiction. It's also the first of the Kirkus Prize shortlisted books that I haven't enjoyed. Part of this may be because I picked it up only knowing the title and that the book was on the shortlist. I expected a work focused on nature writing and didn't enjoy the unexpected forays into memoir. I typically really enjoy books that are memoir + something else though and I think there are problems with this that would have bothered me regardless of expectations.
Most elements of this book were hit or miss for me. The writing was sometimes truly beautiful. Lovely nature descriptions seemed fitting from an author who's also a poet. Sometimes the humor or wonder she found shown through in more informal descriptions of an animals appearance or habits. At other times, word choices seemed odd to me ('after an especially plus amount of warm rain', for example) or descriptions left me still unable to even picture the animal she described.
The way the memoir sections were combined with nature writing almost never worked for me. There were very few essays where I thought the nature writing and memoir were adequately connected. Sometimes a plant or animal was a small , non-essential part of the scene described in the memoir section. At other times, the relationship was even more tenuous. An example that particularly irked me was a chapter on eels. They were connected to the memoir section only because the author saw a similarity between their open-mouthed stair and her child's constant, open-mouthed awe at the world.
The structure simply baffled me. Almost every section was named for an animal or plant, but several felt completely random. Some sections were almost all memoir, some were exclusively nature writing, others were a more even blend. The essays largely moved forward chronologically in her life, but that only made the breaks from this structure more confusing. I don't think this lack of structure will bother every reader, but I particularly enjoy a clever pattern in the structure of a book. The randomness here did not work for me.
A few of the author's stories made an emotional connection for me. A few animal descriptions did contain wonder-inducing new information or beautiful descriptions. Overall though, it's a good thing this book was such a short one, because I was mostly bored and bewildered. Definitely at the bottom of my list for the Kirkus Prize and not a book I can recommend.This review was originally posted on Doing Dewey
July 22, 2021
1.5
i don't mean to sound like an asshole, especially since this is such a personal piece, but this was sincerely just not good. i feel like an alien reading reviews of this book because it is absolutely not good. it's all smoke and mirrors. perhaps the most gorgeous book i have ever owned in my entire life, but the contents don't come anywhere close to measuring up to the book design and illustrations.
ok. i was really let down by this! i was so so so looking forward to reading world of wonders. it was easily one of my most anticipated reads of this year but gollyyyyyy. the connections between these astonishments of the world and the author's reflections on her life are so beyond awkward and contrived. some of them genuinely made me groan out loud. i definitely asked this book what the fuck it was talking about at least twice. this book sets out to illuminate the intersections between the natural wonders of the world and the wonders of living. instead, it sloppily forces them to meet in ways that bend everything entirely out of shape.
also couldn’t help but be bothered by the immense (class) privilege that essentially defined so many (if not all) of the chapters without being acknowledged or examined. nezhukumathil has not lived a life most of us can relate to; she surely hasn't lived a life that is universal. instead of admitting that or attempting to find the things about her life that truly might have a universal connection, she attempts to force universality where it does not belong. these essays are left feeling so superficial, so generic, and in a way they feel dishonest. i did also have a problem with the writing style which was always either overly stuffed with forced poetic musings or just…entirely lifeless.
this was a phenomenal concept with so much potential, but the lack of true insight and introspection ultimately made it fall far too short.
(also this is perhaps a minor gripe but as someone who also grew up isolated in seas of white people, i could not get over the incessant and awkward reminders that she is navigating this world as a brown person (“my brown skin” “brown legs” “white boy holding my brown hand” “attention lavished on my brown body”) without any real examination or work put into what that means and how that affects one’s relationship with themself, the world around them, and their ability to function inside it.)
i don't mean to sound like an asshole, especially since this is such a personal piece, but this was sincerely just not good. i feel like an alien reading reviews of this book because it is absolutely not good. it's all smoke and mirrors. perhaps the most gorgeous book i have ever owned in my entire life, but the contents don't come anywhere close to measuring up to the book design and illustrations.
ok. i was really let down by this! i was so so so looking forward to reading world of wonders. it was easily one of my most anticipated reads of this year but gollyyyyyy. the connections between these astonishments of the world and the author's reflections on her life are so beyond awkward and contrived. some of them genuinely made me groan out loud. i definitely asked this book what the fuck it was talking about at least twice. this book sets out to illuminate the intersections between the natural wonders of the world and the wonders of living. instead, it sloppily forces them to meet in ways that bend everything entirely out of shape.
also couldn’t help but be bothered by the immense (class) privilege that essentially defined so many (if not all) of the chapters without being acknowledged or examined. nezhukumathil has not lived a life most of us can relate to; she surely hasn't lived a life that is universal. instead of admitting that or attempting to find the things about her life that truly might have a universal connection, she attempts to force universality where it does not belong. these essays are left feeling so superficial, so generic, and in a way they feel dishonest. i did also have a problem with the writing style which was always either overly stuffed with forced poetic musings or just…entirely lifeless.
this was a phenomenal concept with so much potential, but the lack of true insight and introspection ultimately made it fall far too short.
(also this is perhaps a minor gripe but as someone who also grew up isolated in seas of white people, i could not get over the incessant and awkward reminders that she is navigating this world as a brown person (“my brown skin” “brown legs” “white boy holding my brown hand” “attention lavished on my brown body”) without any real examination or work put into what that means and how that affects one’s relationship with themself, the world around them, and their ability to function inside it.)
September 5, 2020
This book deceives by its crystalline surface. It is so easy to move into that the reader often doesn't know how far they've come, how deeply they've been changed. It is an important book at exactly the right time. Here's a review I published in "Michigan Quarterly"
https://sites.lsa.umich.edu/mqr/2020/...
https://sites.lsa.umich.edu/mqr/2020/...
April 26, 2021
Short, endearing illustrated volume of some twenty essays about various plants and animals - ranging from corpse flowers to axolotls - all presented with some connection to the author's life.
I have to admit I was deeply cynical about this one. I was worried it would take on the affectation of being too quaint or sentimental. Instead, the deliberate earnestness of the writing grew on me. So many stories about the author's childhood or early life combined with a sense of admiration of the natural world.
I have to admit I was deeply cynical about this one. I was worried it would take on the affectation of being too quaint or sentimental. Instead, the deliberate earnestness of the writing grew on me. So many stories about the author's childhood or early life combined with a sense of admiration of the natural world.
February 6, 2021
This was one of the hardest to finish books I have read. I understand that the Author was going for some poetic mesh of memoir and nature enthusiast, but it simply fell short of enjoyable. It was monotonous and repetitive. There were a few enjoyable quips here and there but those aside it was very hard to read. I have no clue how this ended up being Barnes and Nobles book of the Year.
January 23, 2022
Author's website: https://aimeenez.net/
She gets my prize for the longest last name of any writer I can recall coming across! Her Dad is Malayalam (Keralan), from the Malabar coast and I presume that is his surname? Her Mom is Filipina, & IB both were immigrants to the USA. She is wonderfully good-looking: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Aimee_N...
I've liked the 3-4 short essays I've read so far, which are autobiographical. Presumably, the Nature essays will come along in due course. As with most essay collxns, I'm doing a few at a time. She writes very well, as one would expect of a poet.
Book came due before I had a chance to finish. Definitely worth reading if it sounds like your sort of thing. For the 70% or so I read, strong 3 stars, pushing 3.5. I'm likely to finish it sometime.
She gets my prize for the longest last name of any writer I can recall coming across! Her Dad is Malayalam (Keralan), from the Malabar coast and I presume that is his surname? Her Mom is Filipina, & IB both were immigrants to the USA. She is wonderfully good-looking: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Aimee_N...
I've liked the 3-4 short essays I've read so far, which are autobiographical. Presumably, the Nature essays will come along in due course. As with most essay collxns, I'm doing a few at a time. She writes very well, as one would expect of a poet.
Book came due before I had a chance to finish. Definitely worth reading if it sounds like your sort of thing. For the 70% or so I read, strong 3 stars, pushing 3.5. I'm likely to finish it sometime.
April 23, 2023
Nezhukumatathil’s other books are classified as poetry. This one is in the category of nature writing combined with memoir. The combination doesn’t particularly work for me. My favorite chapter had her monsoon experiences (mostly nature and adult experience). Throughout the book she uses unusual animals, exotic plants, endangered species and the phenomenon of the monsoon in Kerala as springboards into her personal story. The combinations can be clunky and cloying.
The nature parts of the book could have been made into a children’s book and parts of her memoir could be used that way too. Supposedly this is an adult perspective though.
Great illustrations.
The nature parts of the book could have been made into a children’s book and parts of her memoir could be used that way too. Supposedly this is an adult perspective though.
Great illustrations.
September 27, 2020
This book came during a “slowdown” in my reading life (teaching during a pandemic will do that!). In a lot of ways, I think it was a perfect book for this time. I needed to be reminded of how much there is to wonder and marvel at in this world, and how slowing down isn’t always a bad thing. I also think Nezhukumatathil’s blend of personal narrative and environmental writing is appropriate for a book that reminds us of how connected we are to the natural world.
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