Underland

i can't remember or find who said that it's been too long since scientists were poets, but i think they'd take heart in underland. macfarlane says repeatedly that he is not a scientist, but he's certainly a poet of the highest order! and if we take science to mean the curiosity about and observation of the world's structures, he's found some of the most poetic scientists - from proper physics PhDs to lifelong neighbors of an underground river with no academic training - to guide him through everything that lies beneath us.

macfarlane shares their expertise with us and in doing so, translates some hard science such as mycorrhizal networks and dark matter particle theory. in that way, the author and his companions will scratch an itch for approachable and interesting slightly-pop science, but what really struck me throughout underland was the relationship between the inhuman and the deeply human, for better and worse.

in every chapter, macfarlane paints vivid pictures of his companions and of the relationships they build with each other. they're a salt mine overseer, but beyond that they're fun to be around and their laugh booms around corners. they're a fisherman, but moreso someone who shares eyes with their infant granddaughter. these people are underland's anchor and they create a bridge between deep geological time and the present. they bring a certain tangible immediacy to the abstract truth that humans have been exploring the underland since time immemorial.

i could rant hardcore about this one. other lovely aspects include the detailed inclusions of the journey to each verison of the underland and macfarlane's simple but incisive and cinematic descriptions - mountains are scabbed with snow, breaching whales disclose themselves. the word economy here is tight as hell. i devoured macfarlane's bibliography after finishing this.