Thank You, Madagascar: The Conservation Diaries of Alison Jolly

by Alison Jolly

Madagascar is one of the world’s natural jewels, with over ninety per cent of its wildlife found nowhere else on Earth. Few people knew it better than the pioneering primatologist and conservationist, Alison Jolly. Thank You, Madagascar is her eyewitness account of the extraordinary biodiversity of the island, and the environment of its people. At the book’s heart is a conflict between three different views of nature. Is the extraordinary forest treasure-house of Madagascar a heritage for the entire world? Is it a legacy of the forest dwellers’ ancestors, bequeathed to serve the needs of their living descendants? Or is it an economic resource to be pillaged for short-term gain and to be preserved only to deliver benefits for those with political power? Exploring and questioning these different views, this is a beautifully written diary and a tribute to Madagascar.

Genres: Nonfiction, Madagascar, Science, Conservation, Africa

458 pages, Kindle Edition

First published March 12, 2015

About the author

Alison Jolly (May 9, 1937 – February 6, 2014) was a primatologist, known for her studies of lemur biology. She wrote several books for both popular and scientific audiences and conducted extensive fieldwork on Lemurs in Madagascar, primarily at the Berenty Reserve, a small private reserve of gallery forest set in the semi-arid spiny desert area in the far south of Madagascar.

Reviews

[Hypatia · Rating 3 out of 5]

This was interesting, although not something I would have picked for myself. It was more about the politics of conservation than nature, but it was definitely well written and had some entertaining and interesting anecdotes.

I really disliked the foreword, which started:
"Alison Jolly was known in the academic world for her ground-breaking work as a primatologist, but somehow that title feels wrong. It conjures up the image of a soulless scientist, whilst Alison was one of the warmest, funniest, and most passionate women you could meet."
Because of course, all scientists are cold automatons with no interests outside of their work, or any kind of passion at all. Argh. Thanks for perpetuating some stereotypes there! I tried to remember the author of the foreword was not the author of the book, but it did colour my view a little.

[James · Rating 4 out of 5]

Made me want to read more of Allison Jolly’s stuff. Feel like I missed out on a lot of context by starting here and not being more familiar with her career and writings.

[Jane Wilson-Howarth · Rating 5 out of 5]

It takes a lot of very different skills to save endangered wildlife. For conservation to succeed there needs to be good information: about the numbers of individuals which survive, about ideal habitat types, about feeding and breeding behaviours, and about each species’ importance to local people. The skills that are needed to accumulate the information that allows scientists to plan a conservation programme demand training and experience in finding any given species, determination, an ability to function in hostile isolated environments and an enormous amount of patience. But this is only the start. Once the status of a species is known there are a whole other set of skills needed to win people over. To make people want to save a species. This stage is about cultural knowledge, communication, politics, advocacy and diplomacy.
What I discovered when I read “Thank you, Madagascar” was that Alison Jolly had all those skills. She was a zoologist but – unusually, perhaps – she was also a people person, a humanitarian. She didn’t see people as the enemy of her precious lemurs, but as part of their world. She was ahead of her time in that. This memoir communicates all this but also documents some of the shenanigans that go on in amongst all this - even in the midst of famine and profound human suffering.
Her posthumous diaries are witness to Alison's tremendous range of abilities, and her passion. Reading this book transported me back to the Great Red Island where I delighted in her lemurs, and suffered with her as she struggled to protect them through endless meetings and politicking at local, national and international levels.
This is a worthy monument to the amazing woman who first documented female dominance in primates (and, as it happens, tried to persuade Dreamworks to make King Julian female). Alison's memoir is also wonderfully readable and entertaining.

[Mills College Library]

333.72092 J755 2015