The assumptions we make about nature writing too often lead us to see it only as a literature about wilderness or rural areas. This anthology broadens our awareness of American nature writing by featuring the flora, fauna, geology, and climate that enrich and shape urban life. Set in neither pristine nor exotic environs, these stories and essays take us to rivers, parks, vacant lots, lakes, gardens, and zoos as they convey nature's rich disregard of city limits signs.
With writings by women and men from cities in all regions of the country and from different ethnic traditions, the anthology reflects the geographic differences and multicultural makeup of our cities. Works by well-known and emerging contemporary writers are included as well as pieces from important twentieth-century urban nature writers.
Since more than 80 percent of Americans now live in urban areas, we need to enlarge our environmental concerns to encompass urban nature. By focusing on urban nature writing, the selections in City Wilds can help develop a more inclusive environmental consciousness, one that includes both the nature we see on a day-to-day basis and how such nearby nature is viewed by writers from diverse cultural backgrounds.
After recently submitting an essay to my Environmental Writing class and being told it was “a bit far a field” from the technical definition of environmental writing, I went in search of what that definition was. Personally, I feel the term covers a broad range of writing – including my essay, which was about food and culture. Fortunately, it seems plenty of writers feel the same as me, and City Wilds proves to be a compilation of essays that touch on urban life and how it relates to nature. Far a field? Definitely. But environmental writing nonetheless. The contributors for City Wilds come from all walks of life, and they include such heavy hitters as Bob Marshall, bell hooks and Rick Bass. Dixon does an exceptional job of introducing each essay and giving background on each of the authors, an added bonus considering many of the pieces are first person accounts about the author’s sense of place. One of the best essays in the compilation thanks to its stingingly wry tone is Joy Williams’ Florida. As a former resident of the state, Williams is brutally honest when dissecting the landscape and just how it has been exploited. While sitting on a panel at a literary seminar, Williams remarks that Florida is “toast,” enraging her fellow Floridians (116). But it’s hard to argue with her as she points out how overcrowding and over-touristing have made Florida little more than a “sunny countenance” instead of the home of the Everglades (115). As a nature writer living in a slowly dissolving state, Williams takes issue with where to go from here. She marvels at the growing number of nature writers like herself when “all of which is fascinating, given that nature is becoming less aesthetically pleasing all the time, falling as it is to the unethical plow, the bulldozer, the saw, and the ghost net” (117). Wondering where the literature could be in shrinking wetlands and disappearing manatees makes for an interesting end to the essay as Williams ponders what those who love Florida can do to save her. Another essay that relies on elements of the ridiculous is Richard Brautigan’s The Cleveland Wrecking Yards. Less an essay and more a story, Brautigan describes how he stumbles upon an advertisement posted outside the Cleveland Wrecking Yards that says, “Used trout stream for sale. Must be seen to be appreciated” (301). Brautigan soon encounters the yard’s salesman, who says, “We’re selling it by the foot length. You can buy as little as you want or you can buy all we’ve got left. A man came in this morning and bought 563 feet” (301). From here Brautigan and the salesman banter over what fish are included, whether waterfalls are an extra cost, if the stream is clear, and so on. The concept is complete nonsense, but Brautigan’s unique writing style makes it almost seem feasible. Once the reader is hooked on the idea of streams for sale, Brautigan discusses how purchasing the insects and animals to surround it are the next step. A subtle commentary on today’s wilderness, Brautigan’s essay employs fantasy to get his point across, which is refreshing considering many of the book’s essay have a dismal/despairing feeling to them. On the more serious side of things, Deming’s essay Reclaiming the Yard takes on the psychology of taming a backyard and what it says about our need to have control over some patch of land. “A yard, anywhere, is an expression of one’s relationship with nature, a curious border zone between the wild and the domestic in which we invite nature to come close, but not too close” (246). Through Deming’s experiences of pulling weeds, trying to grow plants in the desert and trying to stave off bug infestations the reader can relate to getting close to nature on your own terms, and how that isn’t always the most successful way to interact with it. “…we like to tame nature by thinking of it as something out there that we can visit on the weekend to improve our frame of mind” (249). As mentioned, far too many of the essays in City Wilds have a depressing, whoa-is-us mentality to them. Highlighting all that is wrong with nature and the urban environments that encroach on them, I found that many essay were quick to point out the problems and slow to come up with solutions. Many of the authors held themselves outside of the problems, which gave a false ring to their essays, such as Lisa Couturier in Reversing the Tides. Here she laments the pollution around New York City and, as a volunteer with a wildlife rehabilitation group, sees firsthand the ills pollution causes seafaring animals. She somehow fails to mention, however, that as a resident of Manhattan she herself is one of the polluters she reviles. This kind of hypocrisy can be found in several essays throughout City Wilds. While reviewers did not mention this idea, they did seem to find the anthology to have a number of weak choices that brought the overall book down. A Kliatt reviewer said “compared to other such collections I’ve reviewed for Kliatt over the years, the editor’s choices here seem a little drab.” If readers can overlook (and in fact skip) the essays that bog down City Wilds, they will be rewarded with a number of entries that employ everything from humor to extended metaphors to bring city dwellers closer to nature, often in their own backyards.
I read this slowly, over the course of almost exactly a year, taking it out only when I was sitting outside in the public spaces of my city. It helped reshape my understanding of what I was seeing and experiencing over a long, strange year.
There are thirty-five essays and fictions in here, so it's inevitable that it's a mixed bag. Ones that particularly stood out to me include:
"Big City Waters" by Michael Aaron Rockland - sharply observed, quirky humor; I love the bit where they come ashore at the end and he recognizes that the life-changing journey for him is meaningless to those observing (I still need to watch the associated documentary)
"Bottle of Beaujolais" by David Wong Louie - I don't know that I'd claim to like this story, but the imagery of that poor otter sure did stick in my head.
"Zip-A-Dee-Do-Dah" by Emily Hiestand - brief but compelling look at window observation
"The Girl Who Raised Pigeons" by Edward P. Jones - I carried a copy of All Aunt Hagar's Children around for years without reading it and finally lost track of it; this was clearly a mistake and I need to read more Edward P. Jones immediately. The depth of his understanding of DC as a city of people, not just politics, shines through.
"Swamp Boy" by Rick Bass - my own childhood didn't involve much bullying, but it sure did involve a lot of collecting tadpoles, and the child's eye view here is captured so well
"The Soul of Treaty Oak" by Stephen Harrigan - I had never heard of Treaty Oak before reading this; I ended up crying over it, and immediately having to Google to make sure it was still okay
"Some Experiences with Insects" by Leonard Dubkin - This wry description of intense insect observation made me laugh so much I immediately went out and bought one of Dubkin's collections
"Minnehaha Creek" by Jan Zita Grover - I've never tried fake fishing (maybe I should?) but the sense of attachment to a stretch of water that, though not lovely, is close enough to observe every day--yeah, I get that
"The Extinction of Experience" by Robert Michael Pyle - an ode to the value of empty lots and bits of urban wasteland as nature that made me go yes, yes, yes
I really, really enjoyed this book. There were some meh stories, and some truly lovely stories. I was impressed by the breadth. Even the ones I didn’t like as much exposed me to something new, another interpretation of urban nature distinct from all the others - informed by different geographies, identities, and ways of relating to nature. I have my personal favorites that might not align with someone else’s, but there’s definitely something in here for everyone because they’re all so different, each a little surprise.
When writing about nature, the first step is to find some. Traditionally, nature and city do not mix together and one would not think of burying themselves in civilization to find it. However, this collection of essays and stories does just that: it is a collection of pieces where nature was found in even the most urbanized settings. Each piece is singularly unique and interesting. A must-read for nature enthusiasts and city lovers alike.