Reviews are starting to come out, though academic channels, of my latest book, Forest Prairie Edge. But with permission, I present what is, so far, my favourite review. It came from world-renowned historian John Gillis, who sent me a private email. He said that I could share it. It reads:
I have just finished your exceptional book. It not only introduced me to a region I had known only by the lines that are drawn on maps but give me a way of seeing it in a very appealing way. Your mastery of local detail is no less impressive than your handling of environmenal concepts, particularly that of the ecotone. The span of the study is stunning, bringing in First Nations, white settlers, hunters, farmers, foresters, tourists into a coherent narrative. It makes me want to see your part of the world, for I now feel I know it reasonably well, even from a distance.
You will probably be not surprised to know that more and more people are picking up on the concept of ecotone, on and offshore. Still, when I ask audiences, even audiences of environmental historians, whether they have ever heard of the term only a minority say they have. I also take it be a bad sign that my spell checker does not reference the term. But surely that is coming.
But more and more people are playing with the concept, including landscape architects. I have just be reading proofs of a brilliant book called Walls by Thomas Oles. He asks, as you do, why we insist on drawing lines where none exist in nature. Plans are just as fictive as maps. In his hands, walls cease to be barriers and become sites of interaction, just as do the edges of your boreal forests. The world has never had as many lines, or as many walls, as it does today, and Oles asks why. What are they really doing at a symbolic as well as material level?
Richad T.T. Forman, in his book Land Mosaics: The Ecology of Landscape and Regions (Cambridge,1995) asks the provocative question: “What is lost when civilization converts the soft curves of nature into
hard lines of geometry.?” I know the answer when it comes to shores. Drawing hard lines there has been ecologically disastrous. Now I want to explore on a broader scale the effect lines when it comes to land —
property lines, rail lines, streets, playing fields. Such lines as so ubiquitous that we forget to question where they came from, what they serve, and whether they should exist.
We now live in a world of lines, and not just of space. We draw lines in time, dividing it into ever smaller parts, until we seem to have no time left. In the twentieth century we invented the dead line. It once meant the distance a prisoner could stray without being shot. Then it became something in the world of newspapers; now it regulates all our lives.
Time has long been a preoccupation of mine. I wrote about the clock to dominate our lives, how the weekend was born, how age relations are shaped. And now I want to look further into how this is connected with
The notion of the ecotone is so important in breaking out of rigid divisions, of finding those times and places in between where so much happens unnoticed. I found so much in your book that illuminates this. I think you would find Forman’s work reinforces your own.
In any case, pleased keep me informed about what you are doing. Keep opening up the world.
all the best John (Gillis)