his astonishing book by the prizewinning, bestselling author of A Natural History of the Senses reveals Ackerman's parallel lives as an observer of the wildlife in her garden and as a telephone crisis counselor. "(Ackerman) brings a luminous and illuminating combination of sensuality, science, and speculation to whatever she considers."--San Francisco Examiner. From the Hardcover edition.
Diane Ackerman has been the finalist for the Pulitzer Prize for Nonfiction in addition to many other awards and recognitions for her work, which include the bestsellers The Zookeeper’s Wife and A Natural History of the Senses.
The Zookeeper’s Wife, a little known true story of WWII, became a New York Times bestseller, and received the Orion Book Award, which honored it as, "a groundbreaking work of nonfiction." A movie of The Zookeeper’s Wife, starring Jessica Chastain and Daniel Brühl, releases in theaters March 31st, 2017 from Focus Features.
She lives with her husband Paul West in Ithaca, New York.
Here's an instance where I think the New York Times got it wrong. This was on the 100 Notable Books list for 1997: "A writer well known for her willingness to try almost anything relates her conversations with persons unseen as she worked the phones at a crisis-intervention center." Sounded interesting. But, there's very little -- maybe twenty pages total -- in the book about her work on the phones at the crisis-intervention center. It's all about Diane Ackerman, Modern Woman: the impeccable decor of her bathroom, her politically correct taste in vegetarian food, her ability to cycle many miles of scenic countryside, her observations of squirrel behavior. I usually read more than one book at a time, and was alternating this with a book about obituaries and the folks who write them. I found myself drifting back to the book about obits when the "blah, blah, blah" of this one started to get to me, which it did every time I picked it up. Not to knock the other book, which is genuinely good. It's more that this one didn't offer many insights on crisis intervention hotlines and the people for whom they're lifelines. I'll look for something else on the topic. It could have been my sinking attitude, but toward the end, one of the "hotline" incidents Ackerman relates struck me as fictional, something added for prurient interests. And I wondered then about the accuracy of the rest of the confidential exchanges she related. And I closed the book and put it in the pile to go back to the library. This passage got to me more than most, maybe because she also pointed to the very shortcomings that I experienced in reading: "When I tried Prozac about five years ago, it lifted my mood as planned -- if anything, it made me feel a little better than well -- but the most extraordinary thing happened. To my surprise, it temporarily altered how I could think. For the first time in my life, I became a linear thinker. I could arrange, structure, plan, analyze, explain, be practical and efficient to my heart's content. Had I been a linear thinker beforehand, this would have amplified my natural abilities and given my work a real boost. But, through the mysteries of mind and matter, I was born with a poet's sensibility, and Prozac made it impossible for me to do what comes naturally -- think metaphorically, allusively, exploring the hidden connections between seemingly unrelated things. An iron cage fell over my imagination. Effervescent thoughts decanted to still wine." 'Nuff said. Maybe I should have been under the influence of Prozac when I read it. I'm not sure whether I'll pick up The Zookeeper's Wife, another recommended book, another Ackerman book. If I do, it won't be anytime soon.
The “Slender Thread” of the title is sometimes all that a troubled person has to hold onto life. Ackerman wrote this book based on her experience volunteering on a crisis hotline (often referred to as suicide prevention service). This is valuable, challenging, sometimes harrowing work, yet I had conflicted feelings while reading the book. I found it interesting to read about the training, the conversation strategies, and the transference of emotions onto the counselor. Yet, I felt conflicted about the detailed accounts of the problems of some of the clients. It’s conceivable that someone who had used this service would pick up the book and recognize him- or herself, although no real names are used. This feeling became acute when Ackerman records her visit to a meeting she knew one of the hotline’s clients would be attending. This was deeply transgressive, and I read with feelings similar to those you get watching a horror movie and shouting at the screen, “don’t open that door.” From what Ackerman had reported of the instruction counselors receive, it’s clear that she knew what she was doing was a no-go. Yet, there is no reflection of this in the chapter itself, and it apparently had no consequences for her continued service at the center. On the contrary, at the end of the book, we learn that she joined the board of directors. This was a family book club selection, and it was a good choice, for when we discussed it, we found we had a variety of responses to the book. Some related to issues such as those I’ve mentioned, others pertained to Ackerman’s writing style. She is a poet, and even her prose is filled with highly detailed observation in luxuriant language. She also seems incapable of writing one page without a metaphor, often more. I enjoyed the style, but not all of us did. In addition to being a poet, she is also a naturalist. In parallel to her work at the center, she was researching a story on squirrels. Many chapters juxtapose her observations of their antics and the issues she deals with on the telephone line. That’s something we differed on as well. However, I felt I understood what she was doing, and in the last chapter, she confirmed it: She saw parallels in their behavior and what her clients dealt with. Ackerman is in no doubt that animals, too, can suffer depression. So while I have reservations about the ethics of this book, I found it interesting and well-written, and I’m looking forward to reading more from her.
Diane Ackerman describes her approach to her own internal growth via a several year period as a trained volunteer suicide prevention and crisis telephone responder. She tackles the difficult problem of lifting herself out of heavy negative emotional states by helping others, some in far worse straits than she. The book describes how she relates her own study and love of nature with mental and emotional processes she hears from people in crisis during her shifts on the phone. Her phone 'co-respondents' have been disguised to respect their privacy. In some cases she's been involved in talking of other peoples life and death decisions and must bear the burden of potential consequences of her verbal interactions with them. She does this with moral courage and humility in a way that commands my deep respect. She's not a novice author...successfully published over decades. At times her use of language is outright virtuosic. My only discomfort with the book is that sometimes her reveling in her love of language while writing of natural observations related to her narration of telephone crisis cases gets more attention...wordage... than the cases themselves. This is a small discomfort to endure for the inspiration of the work as a whole.
Once again Diane Ackerman weaves her poetic sensibilities around the profound questions of life. I found her pairing of naturalistic observations mixed with insights and stories from her time working for a suicide hotline perfectly meat out difficult passages with respite and observation. Her writing is dense and full like the most satisfying of meals. This is a beautiful book and each chapter had rich gifts to give. This book is a well earned harvest from a season intimate with trial. Highly recommended as a balm to the weary soul. Up there with Annie Dillard in my book of authors who plummet the depth of the human experience with grace and beauty.
Absolutely wonderful book that seamlessly merges the darkest moments of human crisis with the beauty of the natural world, somehow painting a deeply dynamic and extensive view of human nature and our inextricable links with the animal selves we have forgotten. Should be required reading for anyone working in counselling of any sort. Ackerman is a beautiful writer with a gift for elucidating the subtle.
In terms of style, the book is well-written but lacks focus. Ackerman often uses a call to launch into her own thoughts about a kind-of-related topic, but my guess is that keeping to the call would have been more interesting. There's also quite a lot about squirrels. I didn't have much patience for those parts and ended up skipping over them in the end - and it still felt like a pretty long book.
Overall though, Ackerman is a compassionate observer of the human and natural worlds. I'm not convinced that this book is successful, but I also don't regret having read it.
If you want to read a book that gives you the experience of working on a suicide hotline and talking to suicidal people, this is not the book for you. It really doesn’t offer that experience.
Apparently the author is a big-deal naturalist, and many people love her poetic, philosophical passages about squirrels, bike rides, and picnics. If that’s you, you’ll enjoy this book. There’s plenty of that stuff in there.
I don’t know whether this author thought she’d like to write about the suicide hotline and just discovered she actually had no interest in writing about that after all, or whether she found she can really only write about squirrels, or what. But this is mostly a book about being a naturalist and very little a book about answering the suicide hotline. It was like she’d occasionally remember she was supposed to be writing about that and drag herself back to it, but within a page or two, she’d be off talking about squirrels again. Personally, I was disappointed.
This book details observations of nature and personal stories from the author’s life that parallel her work at a crisis center. Some of her personal descriptions are beautiful. Others I had a difficult time keeping focused while reading. I did feel that she did justice to the descriptions of the callers she assisted and her perspective on the experience of working for a crisis center.
The book was good. I couldn’t help but compare her writing to Terry Tempest Williams’ book Refuge. I didn’t love Ackerman’s writing like Williams’. But I believe that is personal preference, not any comment on Ackerman’s writing.
It’s both a beautiful book and one that covers a lot of emotions. I felt the end of it was strong.
I really wanted to like this book more than I did. The content is really interesting, but the prose is so elaborate and full of metaphors that it gets very distracting after a while.
Diane Ackerman is a luminous writer. I'm on page 42, so just at the beginning, but once again, she amazes me with how she weaves across different worlds, here:psychology, helping others out of despair, specifically her experiences as a volunteer at a local suicide hotline and the natural world, observing grey squirrels in her back yard. It isn't a natural mix, but she makes it work.
Here is a quotation that moves from the etymology of the word promise, to understanding human behavior, the social contract and that earliest of relationships, the one between mother and child. Ackerman starts the segment by noting the surprising power of asking someone to promise she won't hurt herself, that she'll call the Suicide Prevention hotline first--that this strategy actually works-- and from this observation she moves into the following meditation on the meaning and origins of promises. from pp 36-37:
"'Promise' from Latin promittere ('to send forth' runs back through the ages to the needs of our earliest ancestors, hidden inside the Indo-European word smeit- ('to throw or send'). It is an ancient idea, to make a promise to another person, to oneself, or to one's god. Our species has survived partly because of our great skill at negotiating and working together. ... What do we 'throw' when we make a promise? What do we 'send forth' into the world? Because a promise foretells how one will act, it allows us the relief of knowing a small shred of the future, of relaxing some of our anxieties. Without promises we would constantly be in a fret. They allow us to solve some f the future inthe presnt, thereby controllig it, and making it seem less arbitrary, mysterious, beyond our grasp. A promise signal trust: We entrust the promiser with some measure of our anticipated happiness or well-being. Therefore a broken promise warrants punishment or shame. Children are taught how to promise. I think promising goes back to the unstated contract between a mother and child. It's no use her telling a child, 'You must not go near the edge of the cliff, or touch fire, or wander off,' unless the child agrees that it won't. If the child doesn't agree, then the mother must be more vigilant than is practical. What the child promises is to try to stay alive. What the mother promises, in return, is to love the child and try to keep it alive. So when we ask a caller to promise, we are touching an ancientnerve. The equation written in our cells, in our bones, is that keeping yourself safe will lead to love: It is the oldest and simplest promise."
The rating reflects an average. The rating was higher for the sections which dealt with the crisis hotline and relevant information, which I thought were informative and insightful. What brought the rating lower was when she broke the trust between counselor and caller by seeking out a caller IRL (the fact that she didn't actually speak to the caller IRL doesn't make it suddenly right), inclusion of all her squirrel research for National Geographic (it felt like being in the movie "Up!" - "Squirrel!"), and long leisurely bike rides. These long asides felt like filler to make this book longer rather than in any way related, although at the end she tries to create a tie-in but it's weak. The story about the spiritualist was interesting, although if it's true that she's in her mid-40s and has only known two people who have died, then she must have some really long-lived relatives. And the way she tells the story of the time she works at the crisis center, it's as if she never had to worry about anything other than the crisis center, her injuries and the squirrels. Does she really not have any other responsibilities or other places she has to be? Does she really have infinite time to spend hours doing things like watching moths? If so, whoever takes care of the household and responsibilities like paying the bills deserves a shout out.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
This book was really amazing. I picked it up randomly at the take it or leave it pile and found it spoke to me on many levels. I love Diane Ackerman and her writing and had no idea what this book was about when I grabbed it.
Turns out it's about her time working at a suicide prevention hotline. Amazingly she lived in Ithaca, where I went to college. She mentions talking someone off the bridge (which I did once) and reminded me of another night when I saw someone clinging to the side of the bridge (the wrong side) and tried to get help, but couldn't call until many minutes later at a blue light box. Did I imagine that moment or did it really happen. Was he real or a ghost?
I was struck by what she said regarding not always being able to know if she helped someone and how the story ended for them. She also described the sad appeal of the Golden Gate Bridge which unfortunately was where one of my friends ended his life.
I think it is so important to discuss mental health and be open about suicide. I am proud to be performing in SF June 6 for Sing Out of Darkness to help bring awareness to the issue.
Regarding the book don't fear Ackerman approaches the subject with reverence yet also includes fun anecdotes so somehow it's not totally depressing!
Written during her time spent as a volunteer on a crisis hotline, Ms. Ackerman limns all the aching sorrow, grief, exasperation and incredible wonder that filled her nights as she spent time talking other people off the ledge. Intertwining her conversations with the invisible people at the other end of the telephone are powerful ruminations about birds, animals, insects, weather, food, poetry and whatever else caught her fancy. The thoughts are not randomly expressed nor are they merely filler between conversations between folks known only by made-up pseudonyms like “Endless Love” or “Edward Scissorhands”.
Ms. Ackerman’s extraordinary talents as a writer accompanied by a poet’s ability to see beauty even in nature’s humblest creatures soar off the page. Here, human beings are shown not separate from nature but an indelible part of it, all too openly expressed in their greediness, desire, despair and hope.
I enjoy Diane Ackerman's writing and, although this wasn't my favorite of her books, it was still a lovely read. This is an account of her time working as a counselor for a suicide prevention phone line. (Has anyone had the diverse experiences of Diane Ackerman? She seems to have held all manner of odd jobs). She retells the stories of some of her diverse callers and then weaves in some observations of nature and of squirrel watching in particular. Sounds weird but Ackerman can see the connections between what appear to be unrelated things. She has the mind of a poet and her writing is imaginative and beautiful.
i'm making myself finish this against my will. the story line meanders, and the author writes with unconvincing authority. a book about her work as a counselor on a suicide prevention hotline is strangely interspersed with her musings about the squirrels who live in the woods behind her house. much of the dialogue sounds like it was gathered during interviews, then falsely placed in scene. on a sentence-by-sentence level, her writing can be moving and insightful, so it's a shame the book as a whole falls apart.
more personal than some of ackerman's more well-known books. a moving and unsentimental account of a year in the life of a suicide prevention counselor. ackerman talks about depression (her own and others'), squirrels, seasons, creativity, community, and the strange relationships between identity and biology.
sometimes her lyricism and image-heavy prose wears on me, but that's what happens when a poet writes prose. no surprises there.
her ruminations on creativity and depression were both heartening and interesting, and alone were worth the price of admission for me.
Ackerman is a respected and beautiful writer, but I grappled with this book, which, to me, just didn't have a clear theme. Granted, it was probably meant to be an extended snippet of her life at the time - writer, crisis counselor, recreational cyclist - but I felt she should have picked on topic and just expanded on that. She didn't really do justice to any of them, particularly in the area of crisis prevention. She reveals a poignant phone conversation with someone contemplating suicide, then goes off to talk about the squirrels that she feeds and studies in her back yard.
This is another favorite author of mine. Diane Ackerman is a non-fiction writier with soul. She weaves history into a theme. She has written about the senses, about love, about the idea of play. This is her story of being a crisis line phone volunteer. It is full of saddness and hope. It is real. I'd recommend it to anyone who's ever wanted to call a crisis line or wanted to volunteer for one, as well as those emotive souls like myself who just can't get enough of books about human emotions.
An eye-opener for a person who has always been on the calling end of the crisis line. I have a greater respect for those on the receiving end. To offer help in crisis requires a selflessness I've yet to develop. It requires strategic objectivity during searingly subjective moments. It requires deep-breathing and a steady tone. It requires deep and dark anonymity. Read in winter 2012. Age 29.
Only partly about working at a suicide/crisis hotline. Much more about the nature of life, struggles, animal behavior, writing and creative expression, almost through small essays pieced together. Not what I was expecting, and the writing was so rich it was almost too much to handle sometimes, but I also found when I could relax into it, it was almost like being carried away in a guided meditation.
Interesting memoir of the author's time volunteering for a suicide prevention hotline, interspersed with self-indulgent musings. Having lived in the community about which she wrote, I was somewhat horrified to realize that (although she supposedly disguised them) I was able to recognize some of the callers as people I had known.
"Nervously, I begin fidgeting with a triangular-shaped pencil, pushing it slowly back and forth on the desk, but its flat pyramidal sides won't roll." Diane Ackerman is amazing at weaving mundane details like this into pertinent metaphors which help her to transform the topic of suicide into an uplifting insight into life.
Diane Ackerman is an excellent writer. If you haven't read anything by her, I recommend trying something. Her range of topics tend towards the sciences. This book is about what it's like to work at a suicide prevention hotline. I appreciated it giving me a picture of that. She gives a picture of both the people who call in, and also the other volunteers.
I loved this book. What a challenge working a crisis hotline! I love getting an inside look at a job I've never experienced. Diane Ackerman's writing is so clear and wonderful. She really has a gift with language,