Rereading: Trilobite! — Richard Fortey

Despite the oodles of spare time allegedly freed up by being forced to work from home thanks to Covid, I haven’t actually managed to read all that much this past year. Whether it’s lack of interest, lack of energy or something else I don’t know, but I’m lucky if I managed to get into the double digits this year of books read. To be honest, it has been a bit of a trend for me the last few years. Having kept a booklog since 2001 and having been deeply involved in science fiction and fandom in 2010-2015 just caught up with me. As I got into anime I spent less time reading; when covid hit I thought it would give me time to read again, but so far it hasn’t. Until yesterday, when I felt the need to read something comforting, something I hadn’t read in a long time and my eye fell on Richard Fortey’s Trilobite.

Richard Fortey is a writer I got to know thanks to Sandra, who was a huge fan of his. One of the advantages of being in a relationship with somebody who’s as big a reader as you are. Whereas I was always interested in history, science fiction and the like, she was more into the natural sciences, sociology and detective fiction. Our tastes overlapped in places — after all we first met in a Terry Pratchett related IRC channel — and where they differed there was always an opportunity to get to know a new writer. Thanks to Sandra I read a hell of a lot more classic detective novels than I otherwise would’ve had, but also a lot more of pop science books like this one. She always had an eye for interesting, entertaining science books. Trilobite
I last read and reviewed in August of 2004, so high time to reread it. Below is the original review, warts and all:

Cover of Trilobite!


Trilobite!
Eyewitness to Evolution
Richard Fortey
269 pages, including index
published in 2000

I’ve always liked trilobites, but never as much as Richard Fortey liks them. He is genuinely enthusiastic about them, which comes through on every page of this book. For a subject which could easily be made dull, this is a good thing, though at times his enthusiasm is slightly wearing. Never mind though, if you have even the slightest interest in trilobites, he will suck you in. Fortey has a knack of describing the various species of trilobites with such clarity that even somebody like me, who didn’t know a pleura from a glabella was able to picture them in his mind and understand the differences.

Trilobite! is not just about trilobites however, as the subtitle, Eyewitness to Evolution indicates. Fortey uses trilobites to illustrate the larger story of evolution and the workings of science. His book not only tells of the evolutionary history of the trilobite, but also of the history of their discovery and the evolution of our understanding of them.

Popular science books, especially those written by non-scientists, often have a tendency to focus on those areas of science in which a dramatic story can be told, either because the subject matter itself is so dramatic, or because the story behind the science is. At first glance, trilobites offer neither. The animal itself is so common a fossil, existing in so many variations as to have been dubbed “the beetle of the Paleozoic”. Fascinating in its anatomy to be sure, but without the vicarious thrill of the dinosaurs. Furthermore, the history of trilobite research, as detailed by Fortey, is one of gradual discovery and steady progress. There are no heroic tales of young, brilliant scientists with outlandish but correct theories fighting the hidebound establishment to get them accepted here.

Since that is not the way most science works anyway, that is probably a good thing. Anything the subject might lack in conspicuous drama, it more than makes up for in the enthusiasm Fortey brings to his trilobites. The history of both trilobites itself as well as the history of our understanding of them comes alive through it.

Take for example how Fortey starts Trilobite!. The first chapter mixes personal reminiscences with a short overview of where trilobites come from and what the book is about and manages to refer Thomas Hardy, who used a trilobite to great effect in his novel A Pair of Blue Eyes. It is at once both interesting and warm, an appealing jumble that’s neither pedantic nor pretentious. Most of the rest of the book is the same way, somewhat less structured than others may have thought wise, but none the less interesting for it.

Halfway through the book, Fortey partially abandons his trilobites to examine how the abundant presence of trilobite fossils has helped our understanding of evolution. Since trilobites fossils are so common and trilobites existed for such a long time, they make it easy to trace evolutionary processes.

One part of this diversion has Fortey butt in to the ongoing arguments about the socalled “Cambrian explosion”, that time when life, according to Stephen Jay Gould and others, exploded into an incredibly array of forms and designs, most never seen again afterwards. (Gould’s version of this event is explored in Wonderful Life.) Fortey himself is somewhat skeptical of this notion and shows how this theory has changed since the publication of Wonderful Life.

After this diversion, Fortey goes back to his trilobites, with a general description of the lifes and times of trilobites. He ends it with an impassionate crusade for scientific curiosity and its importance, even if it doesn’t bring anything of immediate applied value.

In all, Trilobite! is everything a good popular science book should be: interesting, enlightening and humane. Recommended.

Five years later

Sangatsu no Lion: remembrance and grieving

It’s a sentence I associate more with fiction than real life, the title of the epilogue to the real story showing where the characters ended up after all the excitement died down. But it’s the only title I could think for this post, because today is the day Sandra died, five years ago. And there isn’t much else to say. Needless to say that it was the worst day of my life, that it still feels as if it only happened yesterday, yet at the same time much longer than five years ago. There are stil moments when, like Rei in Sangatsu no Lion, something innocent reminds me of what I lost and the tears flow; this seems to happen a lot in the supermarket for some reason.

Five years on

Reading this almost destroyed me this morning:

That night, the group, which gathered to plan our wedding, gathered to plan his funeral. Bishop Gene, who had officiated at our wedding, would preside. Those who had stood at his bedside with me would eulogize him. The family of relatives and friends would join together again to mourn his passing.

This Monday I “celebrated” my fifth wedding anniversary, of which technically I’ve been a widower four years. So much of what Sarah McBride talks about here reminds me of how my own wedding went: the anxiety, the juxtaposition of the medical and the sentimental, the relief of being married even though I shouldn’t matter. Logically there shouldn’t be that much of a difference between being married and in a long term partnership — even legally it matters little in the Netherlands — but emotionally, to have made that commitment clear and official did matter. It’s good to see that I’m not the only one who feels that way.

What can the harvest hope for, if not for the care of the Reaper Man?

The news is no less shitty for being expected. Terry Pratchett, long suffering from early onset Alzheimers, has died. I’d been worrying about it ever since he pulled out of the Discworld con last year. I’ve been crying ever since I heard the news, coming in from an after work dinner with co-workers.

It’s hard to underestimate the impact he has had on my life, through his books and his fandom. The humour came first of course, shining through even the idiosynchronatic Dutch translation; the deep humanity came later. And then, in 1997 pTerry came to the Netherlands for a book signing in Rotterdam and I came into contact with alt.fan.pratchett fandom, people who are still friends almost twenty years later. There was Usenet and meetups and irc and Clarecraft Discworld Events and Discworld Cons.

And then there was Sandra.

We met on lspace IRC in spring 2000, mutually annoying each other (in what turned out to be a flirty way), then getting to talking each evening on the phone, then she came over just after Christmas 2000 and that was that. We spent the next two years travelling to and from each other’s homes, until in 2003 she moved in with me. Cue seven years of bliss, or at least domestic comfort, all thanks to Terry Pratchett.

But that’s not the best thing Terry Pratchett did for Sandra and me. The best thing he did for her was to help her die at a time of her own choosing. It was watching his documentary when she was in the middle of a two year battle with failing kidneys and the side effects of receiving a transplant. Talking it over afterwards she admitted that she had been thinking of wanting to die herself, of thinking that there would be a point at which she felt her life would no longer be worth living, that she had to give up the battle.

In the end, she of course did. She had been afraid that if and when she died, it would’ve been in pain and fear, not at a time and place of her own choosing. Terry Pratchett’s documentary gave her the strength and conviction to do put an end to a struggle no longer worth fighting, when she still had the ability to do so with dignity and on her own terms.

That was the greatest gift he could’ve given her and me, but I’ve never found the words to thank him for it.

2014 in review

I never really like this time of year. Everybody gets introspective and moody, brooding about their failure to do everything they set out to do the past year, or worse, gets smug about everything they did accomplish. It invites melancholy and that’s one of my weaknesses. I hate endings, hate saying goodbye. Nevertheless I would like to say some things about 2014, if only to end the blogging year properly.

It hasn’t been a bad year for me personally, state of the world be damned. Last year I spent a large chunk of the year underemployed, without assignment but still paid, which wouldn’t have been so bad if it hadn’t been for the perrenial anxiety that brings with it. Personally I’d love not having to go to work ever again but if I must I’d rather not worry about my employability. This year was better: I ended 2013 on assignment to one Big Dutch Bank only to have the project end in December and switched another Big Dutch Bank in January, which was a fun job but for the commute: Amsterdam to Utrecht to Zeist, by public transport. Fortunately or otherwise that assignment ended to in May, so I got to go to Yet Another Big Dutch Bank, the only one I hadn’t work for yet and am still there. This time it’s in Amsterdam and I literally look out on the offices of the bank I ended 2013 with…

My personal life is still in stasis so to speak. It’s now been over three years since Sandra died, yet I still miss her daily. I miss the companionship of being in a relation, of having somebody other than cats to come home to and share your life with. My family is wonderful, if annoying at times, but that’s not the same. Being home at Christmas underscored that, nice though it was.

But I’m not looking for a new relationship either. I don’t want somebody new; I want Sandra and since that’s impossible I’d rather live on my own. I just can’t fathom going through that whole process of learning to live with somebody all over again.

Not to ened on a downer, what was good this year was getting back further into fandom again. The Worldcon was great and for next year I’ve lined up a couple of cons to go to. Hopefully get a bit more sociable this year.