Guest book review by Gene Helfman.
“…a woman’s place…is in the wild.”
This remarkable book is a memoir, a unique lesson in natural history, a love poem to the wild, and a plea for peaceful coexistence with the natural world. Brenda Peterson is a multiple-award-winning, tremendously versatile, and prolific author, having published adult novels (mystery, drama, humor), children and young adult novels, children’s nature guides, authorship advice tomes, historical accounts, memoirs, spiritual guides, anthologies, and more. From a childhood of “five formative years” in a remote Forest Service lookout cabin in the High Sierra, with a stopover in “the human wilderness of Manhattan” while working at The New Yorker, Peterson eventually settled in the Pacific Northwest with its access to wild landscapes, especially the sea. Her quest has always been to live within nature as a part of it, not apart from it. The book demonstrates her success, including that friends tell her fondly that she “barely passes as domesticated.”
Peterson embeds herself in the lives of researchers and students of animals, and in the lives of the animals they observe. She calls herself a “citizen naturalist” as compared with the more common citizen scientist (although the book is extensively referenced in a thorough bibliography). Her approach is reminiscent of some of the best contemporary natural history journalists such as Ed Yong, Carl Safina, Susan Casey, and Susan Orlean. Her prose is often lyrical and the writing conversational. As the author of children’s books about orcas, seals, whales, bears, raccoons (about which, as a gardener, I am less enamored), and other animals, she is able to view the world as a child would, opening her up to a much broader perspective, with limitless possibilities for engaging with other species in ways that adult perception may unfortunately and sadly preclude.
Peterson’s emphasis is on the complex cultures of animal societies (belugas, dolphins, orcas, chimpanzees, wolves) and the all-encompassing roll that culture plays in the lives of these animals. Not surprisingly, Peterson maintains that we would be better off if more of our leaders were matriarchs, as occurs in many other socially complex societies. The result would be a more “supportive, socially inclusive society.”
As the book’s title, Wild Chorus, implies, Peterson throughout emphasizes the importance of sound in the lives of animals, as manifested by listening to and vocalizing with other organisms via songs and other sounds. She chronicles the unexpected impacts of humanity on wildlife, especially on our acoustic interactions. Just one example is birds switching their songs to higher frequencies in urban landscapes to overcome the interference. Her intimate interactions with other organisms—including how verbal communication can unlock deep connections between species—is evident throughout the book. For example, by singing, she was able to comfort a grieving captive mother beluga whale who had lost a newborn.
In this context, Peterson explores the postulated ability of dolphins, including killer whales, to project sound images via ultrasonic vocalizations between family members, creating so-called “sound sculptures” that communicate what they see, likened to acoustic holograms.
We also learn of the social and acoustic harmony of wolves, that they do indeed harmonize, quickly adjusting the pitch of a wolf’s howl (Peterson calls them their songs) to blend with the vocalization of another pack member. Is this why my dog howls when she hears a siren in the distance? Is she remembering her lupine heritage, when the only such sound would be the voice of another wolf? Following Peterson’s advice, I listened to Helene Grimaud’s “Wolf Moonlight Sonata” on YouTube, a stunning performance of Beethoven’s masterpiece harmonized with wolf howling.
Peterson writes a fascinating chapter about feral children raised by wolves, and the clash of cultures that develops when we forcibly “civilize” the resulting beings. The innate tendency of children to embrace the natural world is shown in a powerful chapter where Peterson describes her success at guiding urban teenagers through an exercise that involved assuming the personas of jungle wildlife to help a withdrawn classmate overcome a life altering tragedy.
Every chapter of Wild Chorus connects the reader intimately with another species. My personal gauge of how deeply a book impacts my thinking is reflected in the number of passages I highlight, to remind me to go back and explore an idea. I found I highlighted sections of almost every chapter of Wild Chorus, which is indeed “a survival guide and love story. A celebration of the wonder and wisdom of other animals.”
Wild Chorus
Brenda Peterson
Mountaineers Books, 2024
John is co-author, with Midge Raymond, of the eco-mystery Devils Island, forthcoming in 2024. He is also author of the novels The Tourist Trail and Where Oceans Hide Their Dead. Co-founder of Ashland Creek Press and editor of Writing for Animals (also now a writing program).
