From relics of Georgian empire-building and slave-trading, through Victorian London's barged-out refuse to 1980s fly-tipping and the pervasiveness of present-day plastics, Rag and Bone traces the story of our rubbish, and, through it, our history of consumption. In a series of beachcombing and mudlarking walks - beginning in the Thames in central London, then out to the Kentish estuary and eventually the sea around Cornwall - Lisa Woollett also tells the story of her family, a number of whom made their living from London's waste, and who made a similar journey downriver from the centre of the city to the sea. A beautifully written but urgent mixture of social history, family memoir and nature writing, Rag and Bone is a book about what we can learn from what we've thrown away - and a call to think more about what we leave behind.
I found myself engrossed with this book and its subjects. Woollett manages to weave history, family history, and ecology into a very readable book. In addition to her writing, she takes interesting photographs of her collections. The book journeys from old treasures to plastic junk. Woollett has a lifelong interest in mud larking and takes the reader to London first. There she often finds lost and discarded things from an older time such as bone combs, broken lead toys, old broken bottles and pot shards. That is the junk that got away, as Woollett shows that before the twentieth century people were incredibly good at re-use/re-cycle. Rag and Bone is a very interesting social history and is particularly close to the author whose family had long ties to the dust removal, trash and scavenging businesses of the nineteenth and early twentieth century. We might see recycling as virtuous but consider that it was usually miserable, unhealthy, filthy, left to people on the bottom of the social scale and meant families were barely scraping by.
The author’s parents moved to the Thames Estuary by the 50s and by the 70s she grew up beach combing for fun. With her we tour those marshes and see what the tidal Thames still brings to the area as well as what has been fly-tipped (tossed casually) including sofas, large appliances and much more.
It’s then on to Cornwall where she now lives and a discouraging discussion of what she now finds. Ironically, in addition to being cheaper, plastic items were initially seen as something to save limited resources such as wood, metal and bone. How far we have come from that thinking. Woollett shows how plastics and their manufacturers have changed our practices toward desire for the novel: new clothes, new cars and the non-repairable. The toxic results are everywhere. It makes you not want to eat anything from the seas. Great book.
Think about the last thing that you threw into a bin. Was it waste that you couldn’t recycle, or was it something that someone could have taken and used again or in another way? If it is destined for landfill then there is a high chance that if it ever comes to life again if is going to be in as good a condition as when it was buried out of sight in a vast hole in the earth.
Gone are the days where almost everything was reused or repurposed leaving almost nothing to actually be discarded. Materials such as dog poo had a value, though I don’t fancy wearing the high-value calfskin gloves that it was used to make. Even a dead cat had value, provided you knew who needed them. It sounded like a grim life collecting these sorts of things.
Lisa Woollett is a mudlark and beachcomber when she is not taking photographs of things. This desire to find the items that others have discarded is deeply embedded in her DNA. Her grandfather collected waste and rubbish in London. Not only did they collect the rubbish from people, but they could also make a reasonable living acquiring the ‘toot’ or items salvaged from the rubbish that they could sell on.
She is based in Cornwall now and we are introduced to beaches there that seem to have a knack of collecting the items that fall of container chip on a regular basis. We also join her in London to find treasures alongside the Thames before heading out to the estuary to the landfill sites that are now being breached by rising tides and stronger storms. Rubbish from 1986 that has not deteriorated in all those years, falls out of the cliffs in front of them. The names of the places she visits are quite eerie too, Slaughterhouse Point, The Shade and Deadman’s Island, to name a few.
But it is a warning too, the waste that we are casually discarding is having a huge effect on the health of the oceans and the life in the depths. It is probably too late to fix it too, but some people are trying to make a difference. I particularly liked the photos that she has of the detritus from the various locations and collated as almost art. It is still shocking though.
Even though this is a book about rubbish, it is not a rubbish book and I really liked this. It is full of fascinating nuggets of information about the things that we have discarded and into this Lisa has woven her family history into this memoir seamlessly. If you liked Lara Maiklem’s book, Mudlark then you should read this too.
I really enjoyed this non-fiction book about the things human beings have thrown away over the centuries, mixed in with a little history about Woollett's family many of whom were dustmen. Woollett takes us to various sites on the Thames foreshore in London where she finds clay pipes and buttons and tells us about how things were made, what was discarded and how it was reused. She goes down river to where London's rubbish used to be dumped, to the Isle of Sheppey where she grew up, and where if you wanted to dispose of a car you just pushed it off the edge of the cliff onto the beach. And finally to Cornwall and describes all the plastic she finds on the beaches there. All of it is nicely written, fascinating, and also alarming. (I am also alarmed at how full her house must be with rubbish.)
I picked this book up as a fellow beachcomber. I love beachcombing in Northern California & it was fun to compare similarities in our treasure finds.
I’m not big on historical reads but nonetheless I learned quite a few interesting facts about London, old trades, geography & the startling lives of the slums described in great detail.
I also appreciate her respect for our environment and being further educated on climate change & the detrimental effects of plastic.
I mostly enjoyed the photographs though & would love a book of only photos.
I hope to one day (if Covid ever ends) to explore the Thames!
There’s a really strong idea behind this book. Lisa Woollett is a lifelong beachcomber and mudlark, and one line of her ancestors were trash collectors in Victorian and Edwardian London. She interweaves her own impressions of collecting for fun along seashore and riverbank with historical looks at her family, at urban poverty and London waste management, at our ongoing environmental crisis. She is empathetic, environmentally engaged, politically conscious.
A professional photographer, Woollett has a fine eye for detail and much of her writing is quite lyrical. Copy editing and proofreading are good. But there are many jarring little errors of fact and phrasing that suggest that when it comes to history and etymology, this author does not have a strong grounding.
Instead of sediment sample cores, Woollett has “core sediment samples”. “Ey” in Bermondsey and Hackney means “island” in Old English, but Woollett believes that the names referred to little eyots, the diminutive of the word. Instead of Georgian wigs being invoked by writers who satirize the era, Woollett has the wigs themselves doing the satirizing. She believes that the typical London household in 1850 burns over 200 kilos of coal a week (which would work out to a solid cube measuring over half a meter on one side). People suffer from lung disease but also from consumption, which is a lung disease. Victorian London has an almost 100% efficient recycling system but also cannot cope with its refuse. Woollett is shocked to report that human remains were sometimes removed from crowded churchyards, when this is actually a familiar characteristic of Christian burial through the ages – google “ossuary”. She believes that the Biblical place name Enon is a “common Baptist name for a spring”, as if this denomination spoke a separate language. All of these points are from the first third of the book.
Perhaps it’s a symptom of the shrinking profit margin in publishing. This is the sort of gaffes that an educated editor could easily have saved the book from. They gave me the sense that sitting down with this enjoyable and interesting read, I was in the hands of a somewhat unreliable narrator.
This was a bit of an odd book in some ways. The author spends time mudlarking on the Thames and harking back to her ancestors from the area, giving us a bit of history relating to the things she finds. She then moves to beach-combing in Cornwall where everything seems to be modern plastic and we end with what feels like an environmental treatise. While I certainly agree that so much plastic is a huge problem that needs to be addressed, it all feels rather depressing and gives a very downbeat ending to a book that starts off being very interesting and history focused, as expected from the title.
My mind slightly boggled at all the bits the author appeared to be taking home with her too! I can't see there being much room left in her house if she collects a bagful every time she goes out!
Originally thought is was another book about mudlarking and finding treasures in the search of the Thames mudflats. I was partially correct. Author Lisa Woollett basically examines three areas - the Thames in London; the estuary marshlands near the Isle of Sheppey and the coast of Cornwall, near her home. As she travels and searches the mudflats, she also talks of how humans have changed how they have disposed of their waste - from Roman times up through today.
It is the early centuries in London - Roman through the medieval times into the Victorian era where nearly everything had a reuse. Broken pottery could be used to prep the ground for building. Dog feces went to the tanners and leatherworkers. Wet bones with fat/marrow went for glue, soap and candles while the dry bones were crushed for fertilizer. Glass could be remelted. Cat skins went to the furriers (ugh!). Clothes were resold and possibly later cut down for children or up for patches or trim to threads to fertilizer. And the ash from wood and coal burning went to brick making or mortar and the ever useful fertilizer. Present day recyclers can't hold the proverbial candle to the efficiency of medieval and Victorian re-use.
It is in the estuaries that she talks of military remains of barracks on what was once shoreline but are now feet/yards even from the low tide edge, of the shift from re-use to planned obsolescence in order for for merchants could sell new product. New models of cars. New and fashionable colors. The beginning of the use of plastics to replace natural resources. And then to Cornwall where the beaches are inundated with with floods of plastic refuse. The huge cargo ships that transport - and often lose overboard - hundreds of containers every year. The floating masses that clog the oceanic gyres. The tons of plastic that lies buried underground and isn't degrading. The effects of sunlight on plastic which eventually deteriorates into tinier pieces that are showing up in more disturbing places - like the muscle and organs of our food and has even been discovered inside of humans.
What originally started out as mudlarking became a voice begging humanity to consider the world environmental crisis of plastic usage, greenhouse gases and rising sea level. We talk about how harsh life was centuries ago but they were definitely far better at utilizing and re-using what resources they had. Discarding only after every last possible use could be made despite how revolting some aspects are to present sensibilities. But we could certainly learn a thing or two.
I have started this audiobook multiple times and have tried to get into it. It by no means is a bad book but I just could not get into it. I was hoping for more of a science POV of what we are doing to our world from fast fashion, microplastics and waste (okay maybe I should just read a doomsday book) but this was not it. It was...kid-focused. She kept talking about taking her children to the beach and I prefer my beaches child-free.
In a series of walks from the Thames, out to the Kentish estuary and eventually to Cornwall the author traces the history of our rubbish and, through it, reveals the surprising story of our changing consumer culture.
This is an important read which shows what we can learn from what we have thrown away and urges us to think more about what we leave behind.
This was a fascinating read, at times sad as you realise how consumerism and its changes has affected the precious resources that make up our planet. Next time you are throwing something out or buying something new, consider whether you actually need that thing or could it be re-used in another way
Very interesting look at tracing the history of human consumption through mudlarking/beachcombing finds and tying that into the author's knowledge of historical garbage collection trades. I just wish there was more of the family history portions!
Having read a similar popular book to this one Amazon suggested this one to me. And it did not disappoint. From Georgian building, slave trading, through to Victorian London to the present day. Rag and Bone traces the story of rubbish, and, through it history by beach combing and Mudlarking. It covers a matter of different waterways from the Thames in central London, Kent estuary and the sea around Cornwall. The author shares with us her family history, a number of whom made their living from London's waste. Such an informative detailed book. We have social and personal history too, memoir and observations . Rag and Bone is a book about what can be learnt from what has been thrown away and to think about what we leave behind. So very thought provoking
Beachcombing is an activity that I have always enjoyed and without knowing what it is called I once did some mudlarking (but only very briefly) so this book caught my eye at my local library. The authors family history is interesting as is what she has found over the years that she has been combing beaches and river shores. What disturbed me was the amount of plastic that she has located over the years, and this is just on the beaches and shorelines in one Country. The damage humans are doing to the environment and wildlife is alarming and Lisa’s finds really illustrates this.
I originally bought this book to add to my studio stash, drawn to the images of washed up mundane objects. But the reading of this was far from mundane. Such a fascinating perspective, history and environmental issues approached in a heartfelt and engaging way. I'd highly recommend reading rag and bone, especially if you have an interest in the history of London.
Continuing on with my fascination of mudlarking, I began this book. The author moves from the Thames to its estuaries and then to the Cornwall coast. Her finds become more and more plastic as she moves out. What I see as a treasure hunt becomes a ghastly horror story of micro plastics. I will have to give my consumer consumption more careful consideration.
no shade on the book but couldnt get into it at the moment. Very good on history of London and learned a few interesting things in the bit i read before i dnf
Lisa Woollett combines memoir, cultural history, and a call to action. She grew up east of London near the Thames with family stories about her great-grandfather and grandfather who made a living from London's trash back, She credits that inheritance with her enjoyment of mudlarking along the river and beachcombing along the shore in Cornwall where she now lives.
Her narrative takes us along for the discoveries as the Thames winds through London. She describes the artifacts she finds and tells their places in history -- clay pipes, buttons, pottery, and more. She also describes how the ubiquity of disposable products has changed the landscape (trash overflowing landfills into the water) and the economy (recycling is viable for fewer things and in fewer places than we think). The last chapter is devoted to the problem of plastic pollution.
I read Lara Maiklem's Mudlark prior to Rag and Bone. Both were published in 2019 though Woollett's came later (she cites Maiklem in the bibliography). Comparisons are inevitable. I enjoyed them both. Maiklem dwells more on the historical context of the objects she finds. Woollett talks more about her family's livelihood and how our consumerism is affecting the planet. I found that both books are interesting and thought-provoking.
P.S. Interesting fact: p. 150. The Phoebus Cartel was an agreement by light-bulb makers in the 1920s to deliberately make bulbs more fragile so they would break more easily and thus force consumers to buy more.
Family history, specific place history (London), World history-- Love, love, love. Combine it with beachcombing for artifacts of that history, I am so there. These are my dearest passions. A unique look through multiple facets at our past and current mark upon the Earth, and the way our societies have functioned and changed. This is done in a creative way-- with original texts from history, old maps of London, Census records, and scouring shorelines. Brilliant.
The part that put me off (though I am equally horrified about the problem of plastics, especially in our oceans, and our current mindless use of disposables) was the author's OVER-simplified, and on some points, incorrect, analysis of climate change. It was disappointing, after seeing her sleuthing skills in action and thorough research abilities, to read her passionately regurgitated talking points on climate change instead of any mentioning of the complexity of these loops in nature that we don't really understand, naturally occurring global cycles over millennia that we are learning more about all the time, and the diverse array of opinions about the danger we are facing and what we should do about it that exists among scientists, or just not going there so passionately if she didn't care to give a thorough look into it. Electric cars are not necessarily the answer, either, as she seems to suggest. The electricity still needs to come from somewhere and much of it is coming from fossil fuels. Threat of plastics, ever increasing, ever breaking down, ever remaining, among zooplankton and albatrosses alike is so incredibly disgusting and serious, however, and I am with her on our need to change our societal habits on that now. The rest I thoroughly enjoyed and delighted in.
This is a book about rubbish, as well as the author's family history. It starts out looking at the rubbish revealed on the shores of the Thames, as the author goes mudlarking. At the same time she follows the roads around the Thames charting the moves her ancestors, involved in the rubbish trade, took. She shows how what was thrown away and how it was dealt with (originally nothing went to waste and everything was collected and sorted, by a hierarchy of people) has changed over the years. As she moves down the Thames the finds become more modern, more numerous and more toxic. Then she talks about beachcombing in Cornwall where she now lives and the huge amount of plastic washed up on the shore every day.
Within this there is a commentary about the change in societal habits, not to mention the marketing that companies employ - once they can make things on a bigger scale, they have to persuade us that we need to keep buying.
A wonderful read, combining history, environmentalism, and some nice photos.
Although enlightening at times, and piquing my initial interest due to my own beachcombing love, I found this book to be way too focused on the history of England. I liked in contrast when the history directly related back to her familys past and relationship with the waste of the country which leads the author to becoming a beach comber/collector, but some of the history I found way too thorough in detail, overly drawn out and bored me to tears in some parts, before it would quickly pick right up again. Learnt some new things though and overall I did enjoy the stories and random tidbits regarding waste and recycling particularly within the England region.
The entire book was absolutely fascinating. Not at all what I had thought. It is a really well written blend of history, social history and the history of our rubbish disposal, leading up to the modern day. The book is cleverly wound around the author's 'treasure hunting' walks on the banks of the Thames and Cornish beaches, where we see just how damaging the last century's single use consumerism and throw away society is for all of us living today. Brilliant read.
A really thought-provoking delve into the social history of London through the items found in the mud of the Thames from the centre of the city, right out to the estuary marshes- taking us from an age where everything was scavenged and re-used, reformed and recycled to our modern throw-away plastic society. The London chapters are bookended by chapters about scavenging on the Cornish coast and the quantities of plastic decades old that wash up there are a real call to us to think carefully about the world we are all collectively responsible for creating.
Such an important book. At times joyful and historically interesting,but thought provoking and scary too. Since beginning the book my attention to what I throw away has heightened. When outside I am constantly noticing what others discard and I’m overwhelmed. On a recent 3 hour car journey,I was the passenger, i was aware of all the debris in hedgerows,roadsides and just about everywhere each time the car slowed down on the motorway or at a set of lights. Nearly everything I saw was plastic! I will never see rubbish the same way again,so much of it and it will,sadly, never go away.
I really enjoyed the first 3/4 of this book, but the ending left me full of dread...it's not that it suddenly became badly written, it's just that as she starts to talk more and more about the plastics in the ocean, it becomes deeply depressing. And I'm sure that's intended, because there really should be a lot more being done right now about this. But if you're hoping for an informative, feel-good read maybe skip the end! But the parts with the mudlarking all along the Thames were fascinating.
i enjoyed this book mostly about mudlarking and beach-combing, i found the elements of the authors family history really interesting and the tales of old london.
i also enjoyed the latter parts of the book, usually away from london, and the beach-combing that came with that. as well as the detailed conversation about plastic pollution in our seas.
although i did find the writing style a bit hard going at some points as the author tends to go off on tangents. as i found the subject matter so interesting and readable i enjoyed this book.
What began as a fascinating trawl along the Thames in search of thrown-away oddities, often centuries old, metamorphosed into a depressing indictment of our dreadful addiction to consumerism. The final third of the book was horrific: the plastic which is clogging up our waterways (and being ingested by every living creature) is appalling; the albatrosses feeding their chicks multi-coloured plastic, which they mistake for sea creatures, is one of the most pitiful things I've heard in a long time.
Really excellent and interesting book about the history of rubbish. Lisa divides the book quite neatly, sometimes randomly, into paragraphs of history, her own family history and travel diary. She even explains how to make a glass bottle over 3 pages. It's another important book in the line of books about beachcombing, mudlarking and our obsession (or lack of) about our own rubbish (I agree with Lisa that it will always come back to us).
Lisa Woollett is a beachcomber and award-winning photographer. This thoughtful book (structured around mudlarking on the Thames and beachcombing in Cornwall) combines her family history with the history of consumption and the effect that waste is having on nature. However it’s a shame that Woollett never really explains why she’s so fascinated by mudlarking/beachcombing or why she regards certain objects as treasure and others as waste.
This is the kind of book that I really like: a topic I hitherto knew very little about and a lot of interesting social history. It's well-written and an enjoyable read, though the last chapters make it clear that, with our ingrained habits of over-consumption and wastefulness, there isn't a great deal of hope that we can reverse damaging climate change. Good to see a very useful index included and a very helpful bibliography which points in the direction of more fascinating reading to come.
An excellent book. It was a bit of a surprise – pleasantly so – in that the writer doesn’t privilege ‘good’ rubbish (e.g. very old finds) over the stuff that we throw away today. What we have discarded and continue to throw away is presented as a continuum, albeit that the pace and volume has increased and doesn’t seem to be letting up any time soon.
A good mixture of family history, local history of London and the north Kent coast and our current environmental problems, focusing on the awareness we need to have about discarding things, and perhaps looking at what we buy in the first place.