Wendy Williams (2) (1950–)

Nobody hates butterflies. They bring pleasure and fascination to everyone. Yet we know enormously little about them, even today. What we do know has been assembled by Wendy Williams in The Language of Butterflies; an unabashed fan, talking to unabashed fanatics with credentials.

Butterflies come in about 20,000 varieties. Moths come in 260,000. Butterflies are generally far more colorful, making them the objects of adoration. Moths are perceived as a pain. Such is the fickle nature of show more glamor.

If you've ever touched a butterfly's wing, you know there is a fine powder that stays on your hands. That powder is actually the microscopic scales that make up the colorful patterns on butterfly wings. The wings themselves are not colored; there is a covering layer of scales hanging onto them. As butterflies live their lives, they lose scales, giving them a washed out look. The scales hang on (even tinier) hooks, and the whole system looks like a tiled roof - under a microscope. The brilliant blue morpho that absolutely everyone loves, is not a product of a blue pigment. Its color actually comes from light. Its scales diffract and scatter all other wavelengths except the purest blue. As its scales fall away, it too looks old and washed out. Williams says its color is not meant to attract other morphos; it is instead a defense mechanism. It so dazzles anyone or anything seeing it, that it can fly safely away before they recover their senses and try to capture it.

Much of the book is given over to monarchs, which are the focus of extreme passions all over the continent. All kinds of people have implemented tagging programs, asking finders to contact them so the flight path of the butterfly can be elaborated. The tagging itself is a bit of a miracle, as monarchs without tags weigh less than a paper clip, Williams says. Some migrate from as far as southern Canada to northern Mexico. Others stay put. Some of the migrants lay eggs while making that pilgrimage. Most don't. Unlike other butterflies, monarchs only lay eggs on milkweed. No milkweed, no new generations. Monarch caterpillars ingest the poisonous latex that gives milkweed its name. It makes monarchs poisonous to birds, so birds leave them alone.

The proboscis of a monarch is not a sipping straw for nectar. It is more like a paper towel, sopping up the fluid in the flower by laying in it. Sucking it up would take more energy than the nectar would provide. Monarch antennae are not just for touch purposes. Monarchs actually smell with them.

Though their brain is the size of a pinhead, butterflies can learn. Given the right nectars, they will go to imitation flowers, even if they're painted green, which would normally mean nothing to a butterfly. In other words, they're trainable.

Women have played an outsized role in understanding butterflies. Two notables, Maria Sybilla Merian in the 1600s, who studied them and painted them in all their stages of life and habitat, and Miriam Rothschild, the world expert in them in the late 1800s, are the subjects of deeper profiles in the book. Both women were denied an education, being just girls. Merian was the first to connect caterpillars to butterflies. Until that time, less than 400 years ago, everyone "knew" they were two different animals, one pretty, one disgusting, and no connection between them. The women went on to earn the respect of the scientific community, publishing world-beating books and scientific papers. Another woman, in Colorado, is responsible for the singularly most amazing fossils of butterflies ever found. She supplied endless examples to scientists everywhere, saving them decades of work.

Among the legions of fans, some have understood far more than others. Kingston Leong of California has figured out what makes an attractive and successful wintering area for monarchs. The requirements are complicated, requiring a long period of study of the elements that might go into it. He has helped businesses implement them, such as golf courses and even a housing development, which now attracts thousands of them every winter. It has made itself successful by marketing that feature, even putting monarchs on bathroom walls to reinforce the connection.

Some caterpillars are worshipped by red ants. The ants carry the caterpillar back to the nest and feed it. When it comes out of the chrysalis as a butterfly, they carry it out again and launch it on its way. Why? The caterpillar mimics the smell of a queen ant, and has even mastered the sound she makes. This subterfuge doesn't work with all varieties of red ant. If the ants realize their error, the caterpillar provides a lot of food for the colony.

People can actually help cover for the loss of habitat that is making it nearly impossible for butterflies to migrate. They will stop at apartment balconies and backyard gardens that present flowers and especially milkweed, hopping from charging station to charging station on their route south or north. Putting out the proper attractions is very rewarding for butterfly fans. It's a win-win. It also means huge conservation areas are not necessary. An acre here and an acre there are sufficient to keep butterflies healthy.

However, it also takes a lot of research to do it right. Williams gives the wonderful example of a conservation area, strictly fenced off from interfering cattle. It attracted no butterflies. The reason: the cattle kept the grasses in check, allowing the local wildflowers to thrive and be noticeable. Without the cattle, everything else grew too big and dense for butterflies to work the field.

There is so much more as well. Williams' book is an easy read. She is a storyteller, and has involved herself in her stories. What with the automatic prejudice in favor of the subject matter, The Language of Butterflies is a pleasure to read.

David Wineberg show less

I had a lot of fun reading this book. I've been interested in reading this sort of nature/ecology book the past few years. This one was on the light side in terms of science, which made it easy and pleasurable to read, but I don't think I learned as much.

The author divides the book into three sections: past, present, and future. I loved the section about the past, learning about the beginnings of buttlerfly classification. I hadn't heard of Maria Sibylla Merian, a 17th century woman show more scientist who basically created the idea of scientific method and careful observation. She observed and notated through writing and art work every aspect of observable life for caterpillars and butterflies. I would like to read more about her.

The second and third section get a heavy focus on monarchs, one of the most studied butterflies. This info was all interesting, but I had learned most of it other places. Still, it was a nice synthesis.

Overall, this was a nice glimpse into what we currently know about butterflies - their life cycles, migration, and what we think they need to survive in the future. show less

I think cephalopods (a category that includes squid and octopuses) are fascinating creatures. They're wonderfully alien and surprisingly intelligent, and I felt like I didn't know anywhere near enough about them. I was hoping this book would rectify that for me, but, while I did learn quite a few things, it's not really an organized exploration of what we know and don't know about squid and their relatives. It's more about the experience of studying these animals, with a focus on how show more research on them has lead to more general discoveries in science and medicine. Which is fine, but it's not quite what I was hoping for. show less

As an equestrian, I picked this book up as a little indulgence. I love reading about horses, so much so that it is often difficult for me to learn anything new from "epic" catch-all books like this. However, I was delightfully surprised by Wendy Williams' book, which taught me several new things about the way equine brains work.

Williams begins by detailing the evolutionary process of equines. Though there's nothing too enlightening in the essence of what she has to say (anyone who's read a show more Big Book of Horse Facts probably gets the gist of equine evolution), her little details add something interesting to the discussion. "I...never really understood why scientists considered those strange little beings horses," she says, speaking of Hyracotherium and Mesohippus, hitting upon a concern any non-biologist might have. "Why ISN'T it a dog?" A fair enough question, for which she has a long and specific answer. I was even more delighted to learn the practical applications of this evolution, such as the fact that horses only see shades of blue and green.

In addition to the color images and black-and-white reproductions of horses (including everything from cave art to anatomical renderings to modern day horse-human relationships), the book has pleasing access features. A glossary, index, and extensive footnotes reveal the thoroughness of this book's production. However, one complaint I have is that "training" (arguably the most applicable topic of equine research to the modern day reader) was not listed in the index. Another complaint is the lack of formal bibliography and sometimes shaky use of research. For a writer who insists often that there is a big difference "between anecdote and research," she relies at least equally upon the two to draw her conclusions, calling upon stories of successful horsemen and women without necessarily illustrating the supporting research.

Though this book was right up my alley, I can't see your average, non-horse person finishing it--unless they happen to be a particularly voracious and omnivorous reader. show less