[An Early Reviewer copy from LibraryThing. Thanks LT!]
A guest review today, so it won't count towards my book challenge. (Darn.)
My assessment after two chapters didn't change upon finishing the book: the authorial voice chosen irritated me. When writing about his own experiences, he's a bad Hemingway, wearing his self-righteousness and obvious sense of moral superiority-- see the last chapter on the non-question of whether he or any of the researchers he met would eat orangutan meat-- on his sleeve. He feels things very deeply, thinks of them with too much overt sentimentality, and expresses it all poorly. When writing about others, his indignation at humanity is just as high, but expressed more carefully, if not consistently. Overall, this felt like a string of unconnected essays, a feeling confirmed when he talks about having been a journalist who had to re-learn how to write for the book (back to class, then!). For example, I noted multiple variations on the sentence "My 13 year old son Pearce, who is my son and is 13 and whose name is Pearce." It wasn't that bad, but if you check the index you'll be surprised at the absence of "my son" and "13" from the list of entries. Overall, some good material squandered by a too intense focus on the author's feelings.
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