While John McPhee was working on his previous book, Rising from the Plains, he happened to walk by the engineering building at the University of Wyoming, where words etched in limestone said: "Strive on--the control of Nature is won, not given." In the morning sunlight, that central phrase--"the control of nature"--seemed to sparkle with unintended ambiguity. Bilateral, symmetrical, it could with equal speed travel in opposite directions. For some years, he had been planning a book about places in the world where people have been engaged in all-out battles with nature, about (in the words of the book itself) "any struggle against natural forces--heroic or venal, rash or well advised--when human beings conscript themselves to fight against the earth, to take what is not given, to rout the destroying enemy, to surround the base of Mt. Olympus demanding and expecting the surrender of the gods." His interest had first been sparked when he went into the Atchafalaya--the largest river swamp in North America--and had learned that virtually all of its waters were metered and rationed by a U.S. Army Corps of Engineers' project called Old River Control.
In the natural cycles of the Mississippi's deltaic plain, the time had come for the Mississippi to change course, to shift its mouth more than a hundred miles and go down the Atchafalaya, one of its distributary branches. The United States could not afford that--for New Orleans, Baton Rouge, and all the industries that lie between would be cut off from river commerce with the rest of the nation. At a place called Old River, the Corps therefore had built a great fortress--part dam, part valve--to restrain the flow of the Atchafalaya and compel the Mississippi to stay where it is.
In Iceland, in 1973, an island split open without warning and huge volumes of lava began moving in the direction of a harbor scarcely half a mile away. It was not only Iceland's premier fishing port (accounting for a large percentage of Iceland's export economy) but it was also the only harbor along the nation's southern coast. As the lava threatened to fill the harbor and wipe it out, a physicist named Thorbjorn Sigurgeirsson suggested a way to fight against the flowing red rock--initiating an all-out endeavor unique in human history. On the big island of Hawaii, one of the world's two must eruptive hot spots, people are not unmindful of the Icelandic example. McPhee went to Hawaii to talk with them and to walk beside the edges of a molten lake and incandescent rivers.
Some of the more expensive real estate in Los Angeles is up against mountains that are rising and disintegrating as rapidly as any in the world. After a complex coincidence of natural events, boulders will flow out of these mountains like fish eggs, mixed with mud, sand, and smaller rocks in a cascading mass known as debris flow. Plucking up trees and cars, bursting through doors and windows, filling up houses to their eaves, debris flows threaten the lives of people living in and near Los Angeles' famous canyons. At extraordinary expense the city has built a hundred and fifty stadium-like basins in a daring effort to catch the debris.
Taking us deep into these contested territories, McPhee details the strategies and tactics through which people attempt to control nature. Most striking in his vivid depiction of the main contestants: nature in complex and awesome guises, and those who would attempt to wrest control from her--stubborn, often ingenious, and always arresting characters.
Man vs. Nature, sometimes it is difficult to tell which is winning: in Louisiana, engineers struggle to keep the Mississippi River on course; in Iceland, people once blocked a flow of lava that threatened to destroy a major harbor; in Southern California, the fight goes on to secure houses against rock- and mudslides. The incomparable McPhee ( Basin and Range, etc.) takes us to these battlefields, introducing the challengers and describing the circumstances at the front. He reviews the history of attempts to control the lower Mississippi, where Nature has eventually won. McPhee's account of the volcanic eruption in Iceland is vivid and dramatic--we feel our feet growing hot from the lava. And his report on the Los Angeles mudslides is nightmarish in detail. Despite the ingenious solutions (or deterrents) found to these problems, the reader is left with the feeling that Nature will triumph once more. These pieces are reprinted from the New Yorker.
First and not my last
This was the first Master-of-the-mundane John McPhee book I read and from the first story, I was hooked on JM. I quote a NYT review of JM in the previous sentence, so I hope it is not taken the wrong way. I have read almost every book, and this is still my favorite, though the series on Geology is a very close second.
Brilliant read for anyone interested natural systems and our impact upon them.
This book is the first I've ever read by McPhee after hearing him speak on a NPR story. His ability to use a spectrum of individual human stories balanced with extreme macro scale comprehension of complex natural systems is a masterful thing to enjoy as a reader and makes the pages fly by as if you are along side him experiencing and meeting his subjects. Being someone who works largely in documentary film and loves exploring nature, McPhee is now my must have author on my bookshelf (iBook).