Susan Casey

“How do you think humans got so cruel?” I asked Makili. He gazed at the ocean, then back at Turner and me. “We forgot,” he said, letting the words linger. “We forgot our responsibility. And we forgot that we are as equal as any living thing within the chain. There’s no hierarchy in this. Nah. We are part of the same family: living things. All the rest of it is just totally fucking bullshit.”

Dolphins have to be the coolest creatures, on earth and that includes human beings. show more Dolphins are not vicious, dishonest, vindictive or blood-thirsty. They are smart, family orientated and generally kind. We kill them and exploit them. This is what we do.
I really enjoyed Casey's book, The Wave, about monster waves and the surfer community. In this one, she sets her sights on dolphins and other sea mammals, like killer whales, which are also kick-ass. She traveled thousands of miles, to research, protest and swim with these blissful creatures. She also connected with many fine people, along the way, who have made it their life mission, to protect these wonderful animals.
Fair warning- This book is not for the faint of heart. Cruelty abounds here and Casey hammers it home, like a pile-driver. She does not mince words, but if you can stomach it, it is a very well-written, heartfelt look at nature's best.

**Also, the audiobook is excellent. Just sayin'... show less

So this book actually gave me nightmares... I dreamed I was on a long narrow boat, on a lovely blue sea, watching whales... when one leaped out of the water, and the resulting splash-down caused an enormous wave that swamped our boat, and next thing you know I'm faaaaaaaaaaaaaaaalling and trying to remember not to breathe and figure out which way is up.

Anyway. I originally thought this book was about, like, giant squid and weird undersea creatures. It's not; it's an entire book about giant show more waves. They're a lot more common than you'd think, and now I'm pretty much sure I don't want to live anywhere near the ocean ever in my life.

But it's not written to be scary, really; it's an obscure topic that she's documented from several angles, one of the big ones being surfing, because for surfers, big waves are actually a positive development.

Unless the wave is 1,700 feet high, like the one that hit a bay in Alaska a few decades ago and literally sucked the barnacles off of rocks.

I'd write more -- I really did learn a lot -- but I'm still a little shellshocked. show less

I must say I was mightily relieved to be finished with this one. Not that it isn't good...it's too good. It is subtitled "A Journey into the Wild and Haunting World of Dolphins", but I think that's misleading. It is more a journey into the harrowing and horrifying world of dolphin exploitation and abuse. As I listened to it on audio, I can't go back through the book and cite examples, but the overwhelming feeling I had during most of it was "I can't take much more of this". Wholesale show more slaughter and heartless captivity conditions, even in the big-name theme parks we've all heard of...these marvelous, intelligent creatures have been very badly served by humanity in the last few centuries...by modern societies and primitive ones alike. Their teeth used for currency; their bodies contaminated by pollutants; their environment bombarded by sonar, the noise of ship engines, drilling rigs and naval war games; their lives appropriated for human entertainment or experimentation, whole pods slaughtered for political or monetary gain. Casey has interviewed a number of activists who are risking their own lives to try to stop some of the worst abuses; as well as one researcher who decided to give up her work, which she had come to view as unethical; and Joan Ocean, a new age guru from "Dolphinville" in Hawaii who claims to have a mystic, spiritual relationship with cetaceans. Dolphins have no autonomic nervous system and must consciously breathe. Therefore, if they are stunned they can "drown" because they stop breathing. There is also anecdotal evidence that depressed individuals have simply refused to take another breath, effectively committing suicide.

Thankfully, Casey concluded her book with visits to ancient Minoan sites on the Isle of Crete, where back in the Bronze Age they apparently appreciated and lived in harmony with nature and its other creatures, particularly those dwelling in the sea around them. Their art is glorious, even after all these centuries buried under rock and ash from the volcanic eruption that apparently eradicated their civilization. A Google search for images is worth your time. Casey's writing is very fine, and the reading performance by Cassandra Campbell on the audio version was outstanding. This is important stuff, and if you can stand it, I recommend it.

December 2015 show less

Susan Casey's The Underworld, a book about deep sea exploration, has received rave reviews, but I found myself underwhelmed. Substantively, her book contains very little information that isn't already online: this is not new information, but old material, presented newly. Unfortunately, this leads to two major shortcomings.

First, the chief value she adds to existing information is a series of in-depth interviews with people engaged in exploring and studying the deep sea. Her interviews, show more however, border on hagiographic - in fact, she goes out of her way to dismiss and defend some of them against serious concerns about the colonial nature of their endeavours, instead of taking these arguments seriously, as they ought to be. It feels as though she uncritically accepts and believes anything she's told: her scepticism is reserved only for a museum docent who mansplains, she says, and has nothing to do with the subject material of the book. I'm not the only one to feel this way: in the Scientific American, a review notes that "Although Casey pays lip service to Vescovo's critics, The Underworld would have benefited from a more thorough examination of ocean exploration's politics and power dynamics. In the 21st century, must our most celebrated adventurers remain impossibly rich white guys?" https://www.scientificamerican.com/article/todays-deep-sea-explorers-are-mineral... It is particularly acute when you realise that Vescovo, a rich hobbyist explorer who receives fulsome praise from Casey, is also known for doing reckless solo dives and freewheeling on safety precautions. After the Triton sub incident, and the vast amount of public funds expended on attempting to rescue the rich and reckless, can we afford to be so flippant about the subject?

Second, when you have no new research to contribute, but you write an essay, the expectation is that you write in a manner that presents the information lucidly, in a way that is engaging to the reader, and a pleasure to read. Otherwise, you're writing a high school science report. I found her writing passable at best, and often amateurish, bordering on egregious. Debris around the wreck of the Titanic is described as a "piñata of tragedy". When she's not being flippantly funny, she's buried deep in the purplest of prose, as though she had never come across an adjective or a cliche she didn't immediately want to insert in her book. Perhaps I'm being a little harsh - it's clear that she's passionate about the ocean, cares deeply about conservation, and loves the water. Still, when the quality of nature writing is set to a high bar by authors like Helen MacDonald, Robin Wall Kimmerer, or Camille Dungy, it's hard to accept this level of glib, uncritical pedestrian prose. I'm sure Booktok will enjoy it. show less