Stylistically, the Introduction of the book provided a novel form of writing to me: the inclusion of poems within the discussion. I think this style is quite useful when dealing with phenomena or cultural practices that are formed and represented throughout history in order to illustrate the significance of such phenomenon or practice.
In Chapter 1, when the author discusses the “modern human conceit” (19), I raised a question. Although I agree with the author that the increase of technology development and rise of capitalism is harming the environment, is it too cynical and pessimistic to claim that “the modern human conceit won’t let a description be anything more than a decorative footnote”?
Her further discussion of “collaborative survival” and “anthropo-” (20) causes me to reconsider the essence of anthropology. I was taught that anthropology studies “anything and everything that makes us human.” However, as the author suggests, both human and nonhuman beings modify the ecosystem and accordingly, the environment alters the species. With that premise, should anthropology also include the ecological aspect, especially when we are seeking the holistic view?
The author’s claims regarding precarity and indeterminacy seems particularly relatable after the break out of COVID-19. Currently, the world is full of unknown and many aspects of the world have altered, including but not limited to: economy, occupation, lifestyle, education, etc. However, I couldn’t quite comprehend her explanation of “progress” and how that relates to everyday life.
I similarly find her discussion on the prevalence of precarity in a supposedly developing global world highly relevant to Covid-19. It’s incredible how a book written in 2015 rings so true to a pandemic years after. To me, while Covid-19 itself is an example of the kind of precarity mentioned by the author, Covid-19, more importantly, awakes us to the often elusive appearances of precarity around us-exposing us to the fragility and flaws of existing medical and sociopolitical systems.
I really like how the author focuses on citing this truth, yet, refrains from being pessimistic. Instead, she turned to mushrooms as indicating how optimism still blossoms in precarious situations. For example, she wrote: ” Mushrooms pull me back into my senses, not just—like flowers—through their riotous colors and smells but because they pop up unexpectedly, reminding me of the good fortune of just happening to be there. Then I know that there are still pleasures amidst the terrors of indeterminacy.” or ” The smell evokes sadness in the loss of summer’s easy riches, but it also calls up the sharp intensity and heightened sensibilities of autumn.”
I also find her writing on “collaborative survival” interesting. I don’t have backgrounds in anthropology, so I can’t quite comment on the relation. Personally, I find this point connects to her discussion on how human tried to control nature with the Hiroshima bombing just to end up recognizing the impossibility of that endeavor. Linking this to the point above about precarity, perhaps she is trying to argue for the acknowledgement of the precarious and uncontrollable world we live in, and the practice of lifestyles and social systems that partner with, instead of trying to dominate, nature.
I agree with you that the style of writing is beautiful, and the intentionality behind the chapter set-up and imagery is admirable. However, as someone without background in the area, I initially find the book a bit dense and challenging to grasp, though compelling. My question is how can anthropology writing can become more accessible yet still preserve its scholarship value.