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California Natural History Guides #56
A Natural History of California
In this comprehensive and abundantly illustrated book, Allan Schoenherr describes a state with a greater range of landforms, a greater variety of habitats, and more kinds of plants and animals than any area of equivalent size in all of North America. A Natural History of California will familiarize the reader with the climate, rocks, soil, plants and animals in each distinctive region of the state.
772 pages, Paperback
First published November 16, 1992
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Displaying 1 - 12 of 12 reviews
April 18, 2013
Wow. This is one ambitious book. California has about three times more biological and geological diversity than would satisfy your average country, but Allan A. Schoenherr covers the natural history of a huge number of its plants, animals and rocks from the (many) mountains to the deserts to the coast. And based on the massive number of his own, incredibly relevant, photographs included, this must have involved combing nearly every inch of the state by his own personal self.
There’s a lot of information here. I learned more about sage scrub from one section of this book than from 21 years of actually living in it, and I learned a lot about salamanders, upon which the author would appear to have a rather endearing fixation. He also throws in helpful introductory sections on basic geology and ecology to give some broad foundations for the information geyser to come. That geyser blasts out some great stuff – lots of conservation issues, fire adaptations, ridiculously old shrubs, coastal terraces, paternoster lakes, the slender sea pen, crazily salt-tolerant plants, and salamanders (!) among them, because California is completely fascinating like that.
But, but, but…I can’t really recommend this book without reservations. And not because, predictably, I don’t think there are nearly enough fungi and other fascinating microbes in its 725 pages.
Here’s the thing about natural science books: unless they’re actually about the history of science, they’re pretty much guaranteed to be out-of-date as soon as you get your hands on them. Those white-coated and/or Carhartted legions will keep spewing new research into journals. But the dynamic nature of knowledge is part of what makes the scientific process so darn exciting, right?
So if I pick up a ‘90s biology book, I know I need to take its ~two-decades-old information with a hefty dose of NaCl. For this one, the dose is hefty indeed, because A Natural History of California was published in 1992. It’s hovering right on the cusp of the molecular transformation of phylogenetics and population genetics. There are even tantalizing glimpses of what’s on the way. The author mentions “electrophoretic studies” a couple of times, and about 98% of the way through, we finally get this gem (which is, I think, the first mention of DNA):
But due to timing, it remains firmly on the pre-DNA side. And that turns out to be its major flaw.
Now I swear I’m not one of those tunnel-vision folks who are all, “Only molecules can unlock all of the secrets of the universe, you antiquated natural historians!! Get out of that useless nature already, and get thee to a laboratory. Tout de suite!” But molecular tools have provided a vastly informative complement to the traditional study of natural history. You can stare at things over space and time for your whole career, but visible characteristics can only get you so far. Adding a molecular dimension enriches natural history studies with valuable evidence about the ecology, evolution, biogeography and complex interactions of the organisms involved. Using differences in DNA sequences to build a sort of family tree – phylogenetic trees – has been particularly useful for evaluating how things are related to each other and how to classify them.
If this book could be updated now, dozens of pages of list-heavy prose could be replaced by linking geographic distribution to some phylogenetic trees and population genetics info, giving us a streamlined, more accurate book.
But not only was molecular evidence largely unavailable when this book was published, the identification of “species” throughout is kind of messy and inconsistent. And since, some geology aside, species are what the book is about, this is kind of a problem. See, sometimes Schoenherr reports “species” groups based on how things look, sometimes by whether they can breed; morphologically identified “subspecies” abound, and these descriptions inform some authorial speculation about the organisms' ecology and evolutionary history. But highly related things can look quite different, while distantly related things can look quite similar. And Schoenherr describes many things he’s called distinct “species” interbreeding all over the place.
Without being able to incorporate more consistent “species” identification using molecular systematics, it’s really hard to know how much reliable information is contained in his specifics about organisms, where they are, and how they got there.
My only other beef with this book (And I don't blame Schoenherr; this is just how it's often done.) involves the strange, third-person, passive-voice convention in science writing. Like if syntactically, you pretend that you had nothing to do with your research or writing, it is magically scrubbed of any possible subjectivity and has instead sprung, fully formed, from the head of Scientific Truth. Which, thanks to Stephen Jay Gould et al., we know is bollocks, but remains perplexingly prevalent. So even though this dude clearly trekked the entire state to write this book, the writing is 100% third-person. (I’m convinced the real him is peeking through, though, during several backpacking bits, and one intriguing beach picnic suggestion involving CA mussels, white wine and French bread.) Having him toss in a few first-person comments would make it no less factually informative, but a bunch more fun. Especially the long…long…long, chub-intensive freshwater fish section.
But I don’t want all my whinging to take away from what is really great about this book. Its scope is impressive. It’s really awesome on the broad characteristics of California’s geomorphic regions. It will give you an extensive, but rough, idea of the lifestyles of plants and animals present in those regions. Schoenherr’s photographs are captivating, especially those of geologic features and trees. Just don’t rely too heavily on its fine-grained detail about species, subspecies and their potential evolutionary history.
Also, do not, under any circumstances, read this book whilst feverish. You do not want to have long, recursive dreams about trying to classify unnaturally elusive chubs. Trust me.
There’s a lot of information here. I learned more about sage scrub from one section of this book than from 21 years of actually living in it, and I learned a lot about salamanders, upon which the author would appear to have a rather endearing fixation. He also throws in helpful introductory sections on basic geology and ecology to give some broad foundations for the information geyser to come. That geyser blasts out some great stuff – lots of conservation issues, fire adaptations, ridiculously old shrubs, coastal terraces, paternoster lakes, the slender sea pen, crazily salt-tolerant plants, and salamanders (!) among them, because California is completely fascinating like that.
But, but, but…I can’t really recommend this book without reservations. And not because, predictably, I don’t think there are nearly enough fungi and other fascinating microbes in its 725 pages.
Here’s the thing about natural science books: unless they’re actually about the history of science, they’re pretty much guaranteed to be out-of-date as soon as you get your hands on them. Those white-coated and/or Carhartted legions will keep spewing new research into journals. But the dynamic nature of knowledge is part of what makes the scientific process so darn exciting, right?
So if I pick up a ‘90s biology book, I know I need to take its ~two-decades-old information with a hefty dose of NaCl. For this one, the dose is hefty indeed, because A Natural History of California was published in 1992. It’s hovering right on the cusp of the molecular transformation of phylogenetics and population genetics. There are even tantalizing glimpses of what’s on the way. The author mentions “electrophoretic studies” a couple of times, and about 98% of the way through, we finally get this gem (which is, I think, the first mention of DNA):
“Studies of DNA in the chromosomes of living foxes can reveal degrees of similarity. Greater differences would imply that populations have been separated for longer periods of time” (709).
But due to timing, it remains firmly on the pre-DNA side. And that turns out to be its major flaw.
Now I swear I’m not one of those tunnel-vision folks who are all, “Only molecules can unlock all of the secrets of the universe, you antiquated natural historians!! Get out of that useless nature already, and get thee to a laboratory. Tout de suite!” But molecular tools have provided a vastly informative complement to the traditional study of natural history. You can stare at things over space and time for your whole career, but visible characteristics can only get you so far. Adding a molecular dimension enriches natural history studies with valuable evidence about the ecology, evolution, biogeography and complex interactions of the organisms involved. Using differences in DNA sequences to build a sort of family tree – phylogenetic trees – has been particularly useful for evaluating how things are related to each other and how to classify them.
If this book could be updated now, dozens of pages of list-heavy prose could be replaced by linking geographic distribution to some phylogenetic trees and population genetics info, giving us a streamlined, more accurate book.
But not only was molecular evidence largely unavailable when this book was published, the identification of “species” throughout is kind of messy and inconsistent. And since, some geology aside, species are what the book is about, this is kind of a problem. See, sometimes Schoenherr reports “species” groups based on how things look, sometimes by whether they can breed; morphologically identified “subspecies” abound, and these descriptions inform some authorial speculation about the organisms' ecology and evolutionary history. But highly related things can look quite different, while distantly related things can look quite similar. And Schoenherr describes many things he’s called distinct “species” interbreeding all over the place.
Without being able to incorporate more consistent “species” identification using molecular systematics, it’s really hard to know how much reliable information is contained in his specifics about organisms, where they are, and how they got there.
My only other beef with this book (And I don't blame Schoenherr; this is just how it's often done.) involves the strange, third-person, passive-voice convention in science writing. Like if syntactically, you pretend that you had nothing to do with your research or writing, it is magically scrubbed of any possible subjectivity and has instead sprung, fully formed, from the head of Scientific Truth. Which, thanks to Stephen Jay Gould et al., we know is bollocks, but remains perplexingly prevalent. So even though this dude clearly trekked the entire state to write this book, the writing is 100% third-person. (I’m convinced the real him is peeking through, though, during several backpacking bits, and one intriguing beach picnic suggestion involving CA mussels, white wine and French bread.) Having him toss in a few first-person comments would make it no less factually informative, but a bunch more fun. Especially the long…long…long, chub-intensive freshwater fish section.
But I don’t want all my whinging to take away from what is really great about this book. Its scope is impressive. It’s really awesome on the broad characteristics of California’s geomorphic regions. It will give you an extensive, but rough, idea of the lifestyles of plants and animals present in those regions. Schoenherr’s photographs are captivating, especially those of geologic features and trees. Just don’t rely too heavily on its fine-grained detail about species, subspecies and their potential evolutionary history.
Also, do not, under any circumstances, read this book whilst feverish. You do not want to have long, recursive dreams about trying to classify unnaturally elusive chubs. Trust me.
February 1, 2024
It was good. I feel like he was very biased towards southern California as Northern California got less mention (and I checked and he is from SoCal). Some of the ecology stuff and his language is a little dated for it not being written that long ago. But, he had really good explanations otherwise and great fun facts, and I felt like I learned something by the end of it. 3.5 stars. Hi Natasha!
October 19, 2017
I read this book when it was first published and I was a graduate student. Because I was on a nearby campus I had the privilege of going on a field trip with Schoenherr. This is still the best book published on California natural history and I wish I could find something equal to it for Washington State.
December 2, 2024
schoenherr is an excellent writer and manages to effectively convey complex scientific ideas in a cohesive, understandable way throughout the plethory of biomes, biological relationships, and history explored in his book. extremely long, but deservedly so. it made me appreciate my home state even more than I already do, and I learned so much. I need a personal copy!
June 15, 2025
Very thorough look at California natural history. A bit like a run on sentence - it’s hard to find information unless you read it start to finish, it could have used more headings or breaks IMO. Good information, a lot of it, more of a textbook than a reference guide.
January 18, 2016
If you want to learn about the varied ecosystems of California, this book is an excellent starting point (the other being "An Island called California" by Elna Bakker). There is a wealth of information on diverse regions of the Sierra Nevada mountain range, the eastern deserts, the Pacific Northwest mountains & Coast Ranges, and of course the beautiful coastline. California has a wealth of natural history, and this book is an excellent introduction to our rich natural heritage.
March 26, 2007
My copy is horribly dog-eared and beat up from years of use. An indispensable guide that I wouldn't go without. I've been perusing it nostalgically while serving out my exile here in Florida :(.
December 14, 2007
an on-going project. read a new chapter everytime i move!
September 1, 2008
This book has EVERYTHING you would ever need or want to know about the ecology and geology of California.
February 22, 2011
This was one of my first guides to CA natural history, and it's a wonderful comprehensive look at the state's ecosystems. Definitely merits some re-reading.
February 26, 2014
This is a well researched and well written compendium, exhaustive in scope.
On the downside, it's a little dated and *exhausting* in scope.
On the downside, it's a little dated and *exhausting* in scope.
July 29, 2014
Call me a nerd. I SERIOUSLY enjoyed reading this book.
Displaying 1 - 12 of 12 reviews