Review of A Clock of Human Bones by Matthew Borczon (Clara B. Jones)

A Clock of Human Bones

Matthew Borczon

Yellow Chair Press

2015

$10.00

Reviewed by Clara B. Jones*

Until recently, war has been a man's game, inspiring poetry since Homer's Iliad documented the 10-year Trojan War in Ancient Greece (about 1,200 years B.C.). Homer's epic poem told the story of battles between King Agamemnon and the warrior, Achilles, fighting in and around the city, Troy, a site located in what is now Turkey. In the West, poems about war are particularly common among British (e.g., Alfred Lord Tennyson, Wilfred Owen, W.H. Auden) and American (e.g., William Meredith, Robert Lowell, Muriel Ruckeyser) writers who often idealized their country's and their countrymen's roles in battle. In his poem, “The Death of the Ball Turret Gunner,” American, Randall Jarrell, wrote, “This is how it's done:/this is war./...Men wash their hands, in blood, as best they can:/I find no fault in this just man./” The Viet Nam war seemed to change America's perception of “war” and “warrior,” as expressed by Yusef Komyankaa in his poem, “Tu Do Street,” “We fought/the brothers of these women/we now run to hold in our arms./” Soldiers and war are humanized, their foibles exposed, including, the pain that they experience and cause others.

Matthew Borczon's book, A Clock of Human Bones, won Yellow Chair Review's 2015 inaugural Chapbook Competition judged by poet, Kai Coggin. Borczon presents a raw, compelling, record of his experiences in 2010 as a Navy medic in Afghanistan, as well as, the personal aftermaths of his deployment. Coggin stated that she chose the book because, “His work stood apart from the pack, I just knew...this is the one. This book will stay with me for a long time.” Borczon's poems do not disappoint the reader. They are, at once, personal narrative written in experimental style and expressions of psychological realism offered, for the most part, without overbearing sentiment and emotion. As a revelatory token to the reader, Borczon shares that he suffers the symptoms of Post-traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD, e.g., the poem, “Dreamed Too Often,” pg 18), an illness described with candor and without self-pity.

The form of these poems is minimalist, almost a series of fragments woven by each poem's dominant theme. Borczon usually eliminates the conventions of punctuation, capitalization, and lineal conventions, producing a conversational tone and feel to the pieces (“this war/scrubbed clean/with bleach/and lye soap/sterilized daily/this aint no/killing floor/the klling/happens/beyond the/flight line/of the/helicopters/here/is just/where they/come to/die./” (“No Killing Floor,” pg 2). Clearly, writing the book served as catharsis for the author, whose economy of style and thought compresses the process of trauma over time and space. Borczon allows himself to be vulnerable to his reader, exposing his fear and loss, as well as, his own detachment and his comrades' cruelty. The linguistic and emotional compression of the poems in A Clock of Human Bones reflects the need to truncate responses under stressful conditions that do not permit the luxury of extended reflection. Thus, writing about a dead child, “/all/I remember/is the/exact color/of the/towel/I wrapped/its body/in./” (“Hazel,” pg 4—note the depersonalized, “its” instead of “his” or “her”). Borczon's poems masterfully integrate form, function, and substance.

Even though the themes in this book are personal, particular, and, often, foreign, the reader can identify with many of them because they express experiences common to all of us. In “Night Terror 1” (pg 16), for example, the poet recounts, “/I have/not found/your body/parts yet/but I/will keep/looking/for them/year after/year in/my dreams/,” highlighting memories of loss and reconciliation, human universals. Borczon tells us that, during his time in Afghanistan, dreaming was “repressed,” perhaps explaining the explosion of night terrors once he returned home (“What Do I Want,” pg. 28).

Except for the poem, “Foliage,” on pg 5 (“We once/walked across/the whole/base just/to see/some live/grass./”), the intense nature of the pieces under review is not relieved by joy or hope or color (except the color, red—of blood). One wishes to be informed that Borczon is healing, that he no longer has night terrors, that his darkness is now light. The poet, Michael C. Peterson, has described his own writing process as one in which he takes his writing to the point where it almost breaks. Many of the poems in A Clock of Human Bones “break” under the weight of their author's continuing sadness, a characteristic that often gave me a jarring feeling. On the other hand, by the last poem, Borczon suggests that he is charting a course ahead, that living is more than an act of soldierly duty. One looks forward to reading more of his exquisite poems when Borczon is further away from the edge (/I want/the ghosts/of the/dead soldiers/to carry/the ghosts/of the/wounded/far enough/away so/I can't hear/their scream/” (“What Do I Want,” pg 28). In the meantime, Borczon will attract a large and deserved following. I, like Coggin, will remember these poems “for a long time.”

*Originally published in Yellow Chair Review, 2015 

Elise Cowen: Poems and Fragments (Reviewed by Clara B. Jones)

Elise Cowen: Poems And Fragments

Tony Trigilio, Editor

2014

Ahsahta Press

Boise, Idaho

170 pages

$28.00

Reviewed by Clara B. Jones*

Because of the success of male poets such as Allen Ginsberg, Gary Snyder, Lawrence Ferlinghetti, and Gregory Corso, the Beat Generation of the 1950s and 1960s is a prominent project in post-war American literature. Beat poets challenged social, cultural, political, psychic, and literary conformity, advancing oppositional world views. Many of these writers were tragic figures, and, in his controversial poem, “Howl,” Ginsberg stated, “I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by/madness, starving hysterical naked.” In a 2014 interview with Jonah Raskin of San Francisco Gate, Diane di Prima, often called “Queen of the Beats,” defined “Beat as a state of mind not bound by any particular time or by a single generation. Beat belongs to the great American counterculture.”

Elise Cowen (1933-1962, suicide) was peripheral to the Beat community in New York City, a woman burdened by severe mental illness necessitating periodic hospitalizations and by episodes of depression as well as psychosis. She struggled to support herself and to sustain her fragile social life. Though Cowen had a fling with Ginsberg in 1953 and served as his typist in 1960, their relationship seems to have been superficial—exploitative on Ginsberg's part, idealized on Cowen's. Her poem, “Love” (68), exemplifies this ideation:

Not the neon sign

of heaven & earths

But done with nots

Not the neon Lover

reflected off my dreams

Or not that only

But you

With chest hair growing cross

None of the Beats, including, Ginsberg, seems to have taken Cowen seriously, and she does not receive even passing mention in di Prima's 2001 memoir, Recollections of My Life as a Woman. Di Prima's book should be read concurrently with Tony Trigilio's edited volume of Cowen's writing for documentation of the women active in the Manhattan and San Francisco Beat communities and for a first-hand, cogent record of the place of women in those projects. In her memoir, Di Prima characterizes a woman's role among the Beats as, “To be available [to men], a woman's art I saw as a discipline, a spiritual path. To be available, but stay on course somehow.” Though her friend, Leo Skir, remained intensely committed to Cowen's memory and to her writing, her depression must have been magnified by her exclusion from the affairs, writing conferences, parties, book readings, and coffee shops that Di Prima so vividly recalls.

As documented by Trigilio and by Cowan's body of work, she was incapable of “discipline” or focus, though, aspiring to mimic Beats, she exhibited an interest in Eastern religions. Her own Judaism is featured in several of her pieces, suggesting that she was attempting to define a “spiritual path,” arguably, worth comparing with other female Jewish poets who have employed their religion as a theme. Alicia Ostriker comes first to mind.

Cowen was a “poor soul” who Trigilio attempts to resurrect as a serious poet in his generous and scholarly Introduction. In her 2014 review of Trigilio's edited volume in Sink Review, Becca Klaver notes that numerous female writers have received attention in “recovery projects” and that the collection of Cowen's, mostly fragmentary, writings is representative of this genre. Trigilio highlights Emily Dickinson's influence on Cowen, evident in many titles (e.g., “Sometimes in my dungeon there comes a crawling thing;” “If I never saw the snowfall”) as well as her preoccupation with death. Dickinson's poetics is, also, reflected in Cowen's use of horizontal and vertical lines, soft and hard rhyming, and unconventional punctuation, as well as, perhaps, her habit of preparing handwritten “fascicles” in notebooks. Trigilio, also, points out that Cowen's writings show her respect for Ezra Pound and Dylan Thomas, and, indeed, her writing is, often, imagistic and musical (“A cockroach/Crept into/My shoe/He liked that fragrant dark”). It can, also, be noted that, like Gertrude Stein, Cowen's pieces employ copious white spaces and, less frequently, repetition.

Trigilio erects an organizational framework based upon four “recurring motifs” in Cowen's writing: “a revisionary response to matters of the sacred;” a “simultaneous continuity and revision of literary tradition;” “affinities with the form and content of Beat generation literature;” and, “frank portrayals of the psyche.” Examples of each of these “motifs” can clearly be identified in Cowen's pieces; yet, it seems exaggerated for Trigilio to suggest that the architecture and meaning of her work rises to the level of poetics. On the other hand, some of the pieces are convincing poems, though, for the most part, not noteworthy ones. Exceptions would, in my opinion, be, “The Time Clock” (70), a haunting poem that Klaver, also, highlights; and, the precious and heartbreaking, “No Love” (116). As Trigilio sensitively suggests, Cowen needed more time to develop her craft and to revise her work.

As a woman with bipolar disorder who has struggled to accommodate serious work with a serious medical diagnosis, I identified with the symptoms and effects of illness in Cowen's writing, a “motif” worthy of systematic investigation and comparison with other female poets who committed suicide, in particular, Sylvia Plath, Anne Sexton, and, from an earlier generation, Sara Teasdale. In her poem, “Phenomenology Of Anger,” Adrienne Rich wrote, “Madness. Suicide. Murder./Is there no way out but these?” Rich and di Prima found ways “out” in radically different ways, and it might be productive to analyze their poems and biographies with Cowen's. Di Prima's memoir explores in depth the ways that she and other women managed the stresses associated with demands upon female artists. Extending the idea of mental illness as a “motif,” Rich, in the same poem, points to “the freedom of the wholly mad,” suggesting that scholars should study licentiousness and humor in Cowen's writing, particularly, as they may relate to compromised impulse-control.

Trigilio reports that, in 1960, upon submitting a typed manuscript to Ginsberg, Cowen said, “You still haven't finished with your mother.” It seems of import to observe that Cowen might have been speaking of herself since a number of her fragments address, directly or indirectly, unresolved feelings for and continuing conflict with her own mother. The degree to which Cowen's writing is that of a self-absorbed patient whose work expresses unconscious motivations could be addressed by a psychoanalytically-inclined scholar as another “motif.” Finally, in di Prima's view, the pervasiveness of drug use ended the Beat generation, and this theme, also, might serve as another “motif” to explore in Cowen's biography and preserved body of work. It is impossible to know what her destroyed notebooks might have revealed or what we might have discovered if more details of her life were available. It is, however, a credit to Trigilio that he has collected and commented upon the work of a sympathetic figure worthy of recovery from a complex period of American literary history.

*Published in CutBank, 2016

Review of Fortune by Alaina Symanovich (Clara B. Jones)

Fortune*

Alaina Symanovich

2015

17 pages

Damaged Goods Press

$3.00 (ebook)

$6.00 (Print)

Reviewed by Clara B. Jones

How do we cope with and recover from the insanity of infatuation? This is the question addressed by the young poet, Alaina Symanovich, in her chapbook, Fortune, edited by Caseyrenée Lopez, publisher of Damaged Goods Press whose website describes it as “a micro-press specializing in queer/trans poetry and flash fiction chapbooks” celebrating the “beauty and terror of queer life.” Queer and lesbian literature have, most commonly been expressed via the genres, historical fiction, science fiction, fantasy, horror, and romance, though queer and lesbian writers are among past and contemporary high-profile poets (for example, Gertrude Stein, Audre Lorde, Maggie Nelson, Eileen Myles, Nikki Giovanni, Mary Oliver). In her fiction, Symanovich has described her early persona as a “boyish girl,” perhaps a precursor to identification as a lesbian, and, in one of her short stories, she mentions her father's interest in the supernatural, possibly, explaining the author's fascination with Tarot (Fortune-telling).

Indeed, in attempting to come to terms with a failed relationship, Symanovich organizes her series of poems as a game modeled on a deck of Taro cards. The cover of Fortune represents l'étoile tarot, card CVII (#17) of a deck, associated with Ganymede, a “divine hero” named for Jupiter's 7^th moon. As one of her devices, the author's final poem appears on page 17, and many hours might be spent researching Tarot numerology in relation to the positions and page numbers of Symanovich's poems. For example, a Tarot deck comprises four suits and 4 face cards which sum to 14, the number of poems in the author's book. Symanovich's text is a verbal and numerical (quantitative?) game that can be analyzed as a whole or in separate pieces. “The Fool” is the trump card in a Tarot deck. The author's “fool”, a scarecrow described on page 7 in the poem, “Glitter”, is a figure with whom the poem's female narrator (presumably, the author), identifies. Interestingly, by the end of her text, the narrator appears to triumph over, to “trump,” an abusive object of desire whose gender identification is ambiguous (possibly, a transgender male, a bisexual, a lesbian, or a hetero-normative female). In this poem, and, throughout the book, the narrator's voice is passive, suggesting that she views herself as a victim, as stated in the poem, “Relief,” on page 8: “I was always in respect, deferential, stepping back/half-lit silhouette./.” Reflecting a concern with inequality, Taro card #8 is “Power.” In the poem, “Retrograde,” on page 9, the narrator acknowledges her subordinance to the unattainable object (“Your reign is stronger.”), another sign of her feelings of powerlessness.

On pages 10 (“Winter”) and 11 (“Quarantine”), the desired object is revealed to manifest a psycho-dermatological pathology, and the infatuation is characterized as crazed. Indeed, the narrator is metaphorically bleeding, possibly, a symbol of physical damage, emotional and spiritual suffering, and/or menstruation (the word “blood” occurs in several poems). On page 12, “Supernatural,” the narrator states, “I dammed away the truth about you.”, referencing the unconscious, a Freudianesque marker of Surrealism, the apparent literary root of Symanovich's poems. Though a poem should speak for itself, consistent with classical standards, the author's contrivances seduce, even, require, the reader to play games with her in a search for meaning. These highly lyrical poems threaten to be overwhelmed by their complex structures. However, the narratives in Fortune can be understood as “innovations on the lyric,” as the critic, Linda Russo, has stated about other female poets' work. Russo points out that lyric allows a writer to examine gender, community, and/or personal intimacies, a fitting concept for Symanovich's use of the forms in her book. See, for example, the author's use of last lines to reference first lines of subsequent poems, highlighting images and language for the reader as well as linking poems to one another—intimate acts.

I do not know which female poets have influenced Symanovich's practice. However, her narratives were reminiscent of Mary Oliver's, “The Uses Of Sorrow” (Thirst, 2006). Oliver wrote: “(In my sleep I dreamed this poem)/Someone I love once gave me/A box full of darkness./It took me years to understand/That this, too, was a gift./” Similarly, in her final poem, “Fantasy” (page 17), Symanovich “envisioned a new freedom,” though she characterizes herself as being in a dream-state. She, suggests, then, that she remains embedded in myth rather than reality, and one wonders whether the narrator-author has moved beyond victimization or powerlessness. Certainly, Symanovich's narrator remains self-conscious and full of anxiety. Her poems are personal narratives, and radical feminists and political queers would suggest that her [homo-]normative (binary?) view of relationships requires expansion to the political realm. In future work, for example, Symanovich might consider viewing her themes through the lens of Patriarchy, an institutional arrangement that radical feminists hold accountable for female suffering (e.g., depression, marginalization, power asymmetries). Notwithstanding these reservations, Fortune deserves a wide audience as testimony of one young poet's attempt to understand intimacy, to recover from pain, and to achieve agency.

Review of This Is A Clothespin by Lucas Scheelk (Clara B. Jones)

This Is A Clothespin*, **

Lucas Scheelk

Damaged Goods Press

2016

50 pages

$3.00 (eBook)

$6.00 (Print)

Transgender poets are, arguably, the most underrepresented marginalized writers in the literary community, though, their visibility is increasing. Most of these poets address their identities through personal narrative and, often, experimental forms challenging the mainstream's aversion to poetry with a “message” and with strong sentiment without a conventional degree of detachment. Some transgender poets, however, are gaining a reputation beyond the borders of their own communities, including, Lee Mokobe, Stephen Paden, Zach Hanlon, and Ryka Aoki. Transgender poet, Trace Peterson, recently designed and taught the first college course on transgender poets and poetry at Hunter College.

Another reason for the increased presence of chapbooks and books by transgender poets is the appearance of literary presses encouraging submissions by this sub-group of writers. Among these outlets is Damaged Goods Press, whose webpage describes its mission as “a micro-press specializing in queer/trans poetry and flash-fiction chapbooks,” celebrating the “beauty and terror of queer life.” The publisher and editor of the press, Caseyrenée Lopez*, has recently issued a book, This Is A Clothespin, by Lucas Scheelk, who describes themselves as a, “white, autistic, trans, mentally ill, queer-identified poet,” conducting research on “autistic coding in modern media”, particularly, the Sherlock Holmes stories.

Based upon an e-mail interview, Scheelk informed me that they have been writing since the age of thirteen and studied creative writing as an undergraduate. Their poems are often presented innovatively, including, the use of white spaces and, similar to a signature of Gertrude Stein's writing, the use of repetition. For example, several of Scheelk's pieces are titled, “This Is A Clothespin,” revealing self-consciousness about their self-presentation and their tendency to be stereotyped when in public. Suggesting that Scheelk experiences social anxiety and panic attacks, they write, “To avoid the question, 'Are you autistic.' in public, to avoid the answer, 'Yes, and I can't breathe.'” Though Scheelk's poems are intensely personal, and, sometimes, written in a cryptic way, they speak to all readers who are reluctant to reveal themselves or who may have something to hide or who have experienced “imposter syndrome.” Another title poem reveals Scheelk's youthful angst when they state that their writing derives from “internalization so deep I can tell you in detail each psychological wound....”

Scheelk makes it clear that music and writing are life-saving components of their practice, reporting that they return over and over to Sia's song, “Chandelier” [“I'm gonna swing from the chandelier, from the chandelier....”]. In several poems, Scheelk seems to speak to their former identity, addressing transformation and finding their true self. The author has a refined ability to share their inner voice, demonstrated, for example, in the poem, “Headline—the long-term effects of harmful narratives against autistic people.” Several of Scheelk's poems are in the form of letters to anonymous recipients or, perhaps, to everyone or to a former way of being. When telling us that, “Here, on paper, time-travel is possible....”, they announce, “I deserve to live,” expressing the seeds of personal insight and self-care, self-awareness, and the will to survive their pain and “trauma” (Scheelk's word), as well as, their self-destructive tendencies (“The artifacts of self-harm come from shame.”; “They ask if taking testosterone was causing stress; I respond that it brought me happiness.”). This Is A Clothespin is not without lightness, though, and the poem, “Polar Bear And The Lemon” is reminiscent of a fairy tale.

I feel that I would violate Scheelk's intimate contract with their audience to reveal all of their secrets. They are worthy of respect, not observance as a spectacle, even though a number of these poems may lead some readers to feel uncomfortable. When considering the poet's use of repetition, I felt that its

purpose was, in part, to say, “I want you to understand them.” Though Scheelk trusts their readers sufficiently to take risks with the darkest details of their experiences, their writing is, like Sia's persona, provocative and veiled. When reading Scheelk's poems, I felt, not only, their pain and trauma, but, also, an abiding sense of loneliness; although, not knowing the author, their “voice” may not be that of an isolated writer but, less problematic, a singular and gifted artist. Whatever the case, I hope that they find or belong to a community of supportive comrades who realize that some element of their shared challenges derives from patriarchy and the rigid sexual and behavioral norms represented by its institutions and hierarchical structure. Scheelk informed me that they are currently working on a second volume of poetry, a work that will be eagerly anticipated by their current followers and appreciated by future readers.

*My heartfelt thanks to Editor Lopez for giving me the opportunity to review this book.

**Originally published in....

Review of WHEREAS by Layli Long Soldier (Clara B. Jones)

WHEREAS

Layli Long Soldier

2017

Graywolf Press

120 pages

$16.00

Reviewed by Clara B. Jones*

“WHEREAS confronts the coercive language of the United States government in its responses, treaties, and apologies to Native America peoples and tribes, and reflects that language in its officiousness and duplicity back on its perpetrators.” Publisher's release

“I am a citizen of the United States and an enrolled member of the Oglala Sioux Tribe, meaning I am a citizen of the Oglala Lakota Nation—and in this dual citizenship I must work, I must eat, I must art, I must mother, I must friend, I must listen, I must observe, constantly I must live.” Layli Long Soldier

Minority poets have found their voices, writing a variety of forms and themes from the conventional to the boldly experimental. Shortlisted for the 2017 National Book Award in Poetry, Layli Long Soldier's reputation has catapulted into the limelight with the publication of her debut book, WHEREAS. With an impressive grasp on storytelling, common in indigenous and minority traditions, Long Soldier introduces readers to her personal and tribal histories—emphasizing acts of cruelty and dismissal relieved, emotionally and thematically, by her experiences as a daughter, a partner, and a parent (“Father's Day comma I am not with you. I stare at a black-and-white photo of you comma my/husband in a velvet shirt comma your hair tied back and your eyes on the face of our sleep-/ing daughter.”). In order to decode many of the poet's references, it is important to know certain aspects of Sioux history. The book's epigraph, “Now/make room in the mouth/for grassesgrassesgrasses.”, refers to a tragic event whereby a trader, Andrew Myrick, refused food to a hungry group of Lakota Sioux, telling them to eat their own dung mixed with grass. Sometime later, Myrick's body was found with grass stuffed in his mouth. Throughout WHEREAS, “grass,” and, to a lesser degree, “green,” appear (“...I grass/nothing/here I meta-/grass I sleep-/walk grasses....”; “...split/grass wires/little bulbs/silver/green/drop/lets....”), forcing the reader to share Long Soldier's trauma and, possibly, rage. Indeed, many of the poems address identity, dreams, myth, and the unconscious, and it might be interesting for an analytical scholar to interpret the poems from a Freudian perspective (“...a symbol for/electric/current/something/having the shape/of i/ego...”). The poet does not stray far from politics (“...who what when where why/at behest of the local leadership/e.g. Officer, my name is __________/from Standing Rock....”). Long Soldier's use of white spaces, erasures, and a variety of forms shows that she is intentionally disrupting formalist rules, though the poems retain musicality and are not didactic or literal for the most part. Part 2 of the book, WHEREAS, refers to a proclamation written by Barak Obama apologizing to Indigenous Americans for their treatment during the colonial period (and beyond?). According to Long Soldier, no Indigenous Americans were invited to the ceremony and, as I recall, the event was not widely reported in the media. In my opinion, Part 2 is the most moving section of the book, and a strong case might be made that it should be placed before Part 1, THESE BEING THE CONCERNS, in order to provide context and currency for the Myrick incident. WHEREAS, is written as a Proclamation in its own right, rendering a powerful response to Obama's oversights (“I recognize/the special legal and/political relationship/Indian tribes have with/the United States and/the solemn/covenant with the land/we share.”). While Long Soldier's stories are sometimes heartbreaking, her writing does not take the reader to the edge of despair. This young poet's work is highly recommended, and I hope that, in future, the poetry community will embrace many more Indigenous American poets.

*Originally published in i am not a silent poet, 2017

Review of 2 Social Biology books (ISBE Newsletter) (Clara B. Jones)

Sociobiology of Caviomorph Rodents: An Integrative Approach

Luis A. Ebensperger & Loren D. Hayes, Eds.

2016

Wiley Blackwell

Hoboken, NJ, USA

380 pp

$97.03

Cooperative Breeding in Vertebrates: Studies of Ecology, Evolution, and Behavior

Walter D. Koenig & Janis L. Dickinson, Eds.

2016

Cambridge University Press

Cambridge, U.K.

379 pp

$115.67

Reviewed by Clara B. Jones* (foucault03@gmail.com)

In his highly regarded book, Principles of Social Evolution (2011), Andrew Bourke treats the origin of societies as a major evolutionary transition characterized by control of conflict and the appearance of castes (Table 1.3). In this author's system, castes define a society as eusocial, “with an appreciable reproductive division of labour, irreversible or not” (Box 1.1). Eusocial societies with totipotent individuals, are sometimes referred to as “primitively” eusocial (Wilson 1971), and Bourke points out (loc. cit.) that cooperatively breeding vertebrate societies resemble (reversible) eusocial societies “because any level of reproductive division of labor implies a degree of altruism” (loc. cit.). In my own work, I follow Bourke's terminology (Jones 2014), in addition to his use of Hamilton's (1964) schema limiting animal (including, human) behavior to four categories (selfish, cooperative, altruistic, and spite, Table 1 this review). In Hamilton's system, then, “social” behavior is confined to cooperative or altruistic interactions between (usually) conspecifics, measured according to differential reproductive costs or benefits to Actor and Recipient.

In Sociobiology of Caviomorph Rodents, Ebensperger and Hayes have performed a service by summarizing a speciose and diverse group of primarily South American rodents (Patterson & Upham 2014) characterized by twelve families of which ~75% include one or more social species (including, capybaras, tuco-tucos, cavies, maras, viscachas, and chinchillas). Since at least 1998, Ebensperger has advocated for the use of hystricognath rodents as a model of social evolution, and the book under review reinforces that message documented in several chapters devoted to the wide range of caviomorph sociosexual behaviors and structures (Chapters 1, 2, 7-11). Additional chapters review caviomorph neurobiology, genetics, communication, and fitness effects, presenting a comprehensive, “integrative” approach to the group, while, in the final chapter (Chapter 13) the editors synthesize what we know and need to know, in their opinion, about caviomorph sociality.

Sociobiology of Caviomorph Rodents will appeal to specialists wishing to broaden their knowledge of social taxa as well as to students interested in identifying stimulating and important research topics upon which to base a dissertation or a career. Furthermore, the potential for comparative studies is documented by similarities in certain traits between some caviomorph species and voles. Unfortunately, readers will need to be tolerant of the volume's limitations such as the authors' failure to cite more than a few references after 2012, frequent repetitions, some annoying grammatical errors, too many instances of researchers relying upon personal opinion and qualitative statements rather than inferences based on measurements. Also, investigators studying caviomorph social biology seem to have a penchant for attributing group-living in this infraorder to predation pressure, a factor that some specialists consider a common cause of group-formation but not group-maintenance. Likewise, most of the authors in this text use group size as a proxy for social behavior, a problematic assumption seemingly resulting from defining “social” as group-living whereby larger groups would exhibit a greater number of interindividual interactions. As Rubenstein et al. (2016) show, however, the evolution of sociality relative to (female) group size is taxon-specific and rule-governed. Finally, and of significant concern, where Hamilton's general rule is discussed at all, statements appear naïve at best and, in some cases, incorrect (e.g., pages 307 and 311). This text is, nonetheless, recommended as a point of entry to a group of rodents with significant research potential. Indeed, rodents are the largest Order of Mammals; however, our knowledge of their social biology is limited compared to that of primates and carnivores, Orders with a noteworthy proportion of social species.

In Cooperative Breeding in Vertebrates, cooperative breeding is broadly defined as “breeding associations with three or more individuals collectively raising young in a single brood or litter” (Introduction). As a result, the book covers a wide range of taxa, behaviors, and structures. Koenig and Dickinson chose 19 species to illustrate their topic, 15 of these chapters covering birds, 1, fish, and 3 reports on cooperatively-breeding mammals. The final, summary chapter by the Editors is noteworthy because of Figure 20.3 and Table 20.1. In addition to the fact that the descriptive studies are fascinating and informative, they are examples of the high standards which field natural history can attain. Authors, many with international reputations, have not only keenly observed relevant behavioral and structural details of their systems, but, relying, primarily, on verbal, rather than, quantitative, models, interpret their results with an appreciation for hypothesis-testing. For the most part, researchers rely on descriptive statistics to illustrate their subjects and associated traits, though a few studies incorporate genetic analyses as tentative tests of “kin selection” theory.

Because the species described in this text range from delayed dispersal with no cooperative care (Siberian jays), to “marginal” cooperative breeders (western bluebirds), to simple conformations with single-pair breeders (superb fairy wrens) and their “helpers,” to complex societies incorporating plural breeders (superb starlings), the book can be read in a way that reveals patterns related to the evolution of cooperative breeding and possible causal factors (e.g., distribution and abundance of limiting resources, environmental heterogeneity, group size and composition, population demography, predation). Finally, throughout the text, promising topics for investigation are indicated, such as, Why does “helping” by males appear to be common (e.g., superb fairy wrens, chestnut-crowned babblers, bell miners, banded mongooses), and are its causal factors different than those for female “helpers”? Also, one is curious about “kidnapping” behavior in banded mongooses and whether it might be induced by social parasitism or, perhaps, is a precursor to “slavemaking” as is the case in some social insects?

Apparently, none of the research programs in either of the books under review utilizes multivariate analyses in an attempt to assess causality or agent-based modeling to conduct quantitative tests of hypotheses (but, see Chapters 3 and 18); thus, for the most part, inferences remain speculative. Furthermore, it is not clear from the discussion of methods in most chapters whether animals were marked, whether focal-animal observational procedures were employed (preferably with a randomized baseline), and in what ways field experiments were conducted. Virtually every chapter in both books under review end their reports by calling for more research to document variability of target phenomena, implying that it is premature to search for general principles within and between taxa, even though some of these studies have proceeded for decades. As the paper by Rubenstein et al. (2016) demonstrates, however, analyses based on central tendencies can expose straightforward rules upon which complex phenomena depend. Weinrich et al. (2006) demonstrated that there exists a limited number of solutions to any evolutionary question which would include the problems inherent to Social Biology. Sociobiology of Caviomorph Rodents and Cooperative Breeding in Vertebrates deserve serious inspection by students of sociality,, animal behavior, and behavioral ecology. However, conventional Natural History might benefit from the incorporation of more rigorous methods and the application of quantitative procedures.

References

Bourke AFG (2011) Principles of social evolution. Oxford University Press, Oxford.

Ebensperger LA (1998) Sociality in rodents: the New World fossorial hystricognaths as study models. Revista Chilena de Historia Natural 71: 65-77.

Hamilton WD (1964) The genetical theory of social behavior. J Theor Biol 7: 1-52.

Jones CB (2014) The evolution of mammalian sociality in an ecological perspective. Springer, New York.

Patterson BD, Upham NS (2014) A study in contrasts: two extensive Neotropical radiations. Frontiers in Ecology and Evolution 2: 1-2.

Rubenstein DR, Botero CA, Lacey EA (2016) Discrete but variable structure of animal societies leads to the false perception of a social continuum. R. Soc. open sci. 3: 160147. http://dx.doi.org/10.1098//rsos.160147

Weinreich DM, Delaney NF, DePristo MA, Hartl DL (2006) Darwinian evolution can follow only very few mutational paths to fitter proteins. Science 312: 111-114.

Wilson EO (1971) The insect societies. Harvard, Cambridge, MA.

*Originally published in ISBE Newsletter, 2016

Table 1. This table presents Hamilton's schema depicting hypothetical outcomes of interactions 

between two (usually conspecific) individuals (a “dyad”), including, predicted reproductive tradeoffs 

(often measured as # offspring). A “selfish” state is presumed to be original and fundamental since 

selection acts on individual genotypes and since assisting ego’s own reproduction should benefit an 

individual more than benefiting another individual's reproduction (an individual is always related to 

itself by 1.00). It follows that “cooperation” and “altruism” have evolved where a “selfish” strategy 

cannot do its best. By definition, “cooperation” and “altruism” require Actor (“ego”) to restrain or 

compromise some measure of its “fitness budget” by donating some measure of reproduction to a 

Recipient. In the case of “spite,” both Actor and Recipient lose reproductive benefits as a result of 

one or more interactions.

	BENEFITS OR COSTS TO ACTOR	BENEFITS OR COSTS TO RECIPIENT
SELFISH	+	-
COOPERATIVE	+	+
ALTRUISTIC	_	+
SPITEFUL	_	-

Review of Wild Life by Robert L. Trivers (Clara B. Jones)

Wild Life: Adventures of an Evolutionary Biologist

Robert L. Trivers

Biosocial Research

New Brunswick, NJ

2015

225 pages

$9.58 (Paperback and Kindle)

Reviewed by Clara B. Jones, Asheville, NC, USA (February, 2016)

To dispense with preliminaries, I have interacted with Robert L. “Bob” Trivers intermittently since I was in graduate school but have never been in his “inner circle.” I requested a complimentary copy of Wild Life from Robert, telling him that I intended to review it for a journal that was, at the time, undetermined. Robert was enthusiastic about the idea and sent the memoir. I have reviewed a number of books for ISBE Newsletter so it was logical for me to consider it as the venue for publication, particularly, since I speculated that many readers would be interested. I appreciate Andreas Svensson for giving me this opportunity.

In addition to several other biologists (e.g., Louise Emmons, Dan Janzen, Russ Lande, Nancy Moran, Steve Stearns, Mary Jane West-Eberhard, Don E. Wilson), I consider Trivers to be a National Treasure. Against numerous odds, he has risen to the top of his field, having published papers that are fundamental contributions to Social Biology, generators of immeasurable bodies of systematic and informal research and publications, as well as, continuing streams of productive thought—among his peers, other scientists, educators, students, journalists, and the general public. Many persons in and outside the scientific community will purchase a copy of Wild Life hoping, even, expecting, to find inside their names or mention of one of their vivid memories with Robert. Most of these men and women will be crushed, and I can think of four or five who will never recover. Robert's new book should have included a detailed index, not only for reference purposes, but, also, to prevent time wasted by some who would otherwise rifle through the book in search of evidence that Trivers considers them worthy of mention.

In the literary world, a memoir belongs to the genre, Creative Nonfiction. Wild Life, however, for the most part, appears to be uncontrived, a convincing example of a brilliant, though, controversial, figure telling it as he truly sees it. As the saying goes, “What you see is what you get.”, though Robert is clear to point out that he is unable to measure the full extent to which deception and self-deception influenced this project. After reading Wild Life, I was left with several messages, one being that its author has written a memoir hoping to determine the arc of his legacy. With the exception of Chapters 14 and 15, he crafts his story, as he has presented all of his ideas, with clinical, even, scapular, precision. There is a sense in which the dominant theme of the book can be summarized by a single observation expressed on page 186 when speaking of W.D. Hamilton: “I thought of Bill as perhaps the greatest evolutionary theorist since Darwin. Certainly, where social theory based on natural selection is concerned, he was our deepest and most original thinker.” Many would place E.O. Wilson in second place. However, in Wild Life, as well as, elsewhere, Robert seems of the opinion that Wilson is greatly overrated (an opinion with which I disagree). Though he does not say so explicitly, Trivers likely considers himself to hold second rank after Hamilton, a self-assessment that many would challenge if only because of the author's non-normative record of behavior. Nonetheless, as Robert told a reporter at Rutgers University in 2014, “I don’t want to sound immodest, but I am one of the greatest social theorists in evolutionary biology alive, period.”

Wild Life, dedicated to Robert's teacher, William H. Drury, Jr., comprises fifteen chapters, seven of which, in addition to numerous additional remembrances, concern his life and research in Jamaica. He reports, with obvious pride, that all of his five children are “American/Jamaican,” referring to himself as an “out-breeder” created by his peripatetic experiences as the son of a career diplomat. For decades, I was an obsessive reader of the print-version of The New York Times. One day in 1987, scanning the obituary page, I noticed the name, Howard Trivers [sic, no middle initial], and, because, at that time, I had received second-hand reports of Robert's life from one of his close friends, I determined from relevant details that the deceased was the evolutionary biologist's father. Among other prominent roles in the U.S. Department of State, Howard Trivers had been Director of its Office of Research and Analysis. It was impossible not to note that the diplomat's obituary included no personal information—no mention of parents, a wife, or other family members. I had been told that Robert had a very contentious relationship with his father, in part, because of the latter's profession. Robert has only mentioned his father to me once, in passing; thus, I was not totally surprised to find virtually no reference to his family, including his mother, in Wild Life. For this reason, combined with the, sometimes shocking, even, disturbing, particulars of his life, Robert would provide a Freudian scholar with copious material and room for speculation (e.g., Oedipal failure?). In addition to passing mention of his “family of origin” and his children, the Preface expresses the author's opinions about the conventional lives of scientists (“This kind of life never appealed to me.”), and the remaining few paragraphs introduce the reader to themes that follow.

Chapter 1 is revealing to all students of Trivers' work. He documents his early precocity in mathematics, particularly, The Calculus. I consider myself an amateur student of the thinking strategies of famous scientists. Many population ecologists, for example, think like physicists, characterizing genes and other events as mass flowing in space and time. Ecosystem ecologists, on the other hand, are likely to think, not only spatially, but at multiple scales at once. Robert's mind is that of a quantitative modeler expertly identifying and manipulating decision rules. A limitation but, even, more, a strength, of his mostly verbal theories is that they bypass complexity to identify fundamental principles of natural selection for mechanisms and functions of general import. Trivers reveals that Drury taught him to begin with interesting questions about human behavior, and Robert has exhibited a remarkable ability to choose topics basic to non-human, as well as, human, Social Biology, always cognizant of intra- and inter-individual conflict (-of-interest) and of genetics operating at the level of individuals, constrained by Hamilton's Rule. While I imagine there is intuition and art involved in Trivers' generative processes, I think his successes can be attributed, primarily, to his cogent choice of topics and his ability to write with laser clarity, as close as verbal models can come to mathematical ones. In my humble opinion, Robert is a better verbal modeler than Charles Darwin.

Chapters 2 and 3 describe early experiences conducting fieldwork and the impact of Drury and Ernst Mayr, respectively, on the development of the memoirist's early thinking, publications, and career. Robert convincingly communicates the extent to which he honors these men, and he shares with candor the pivotal role they played in the formation of some of his most important ideas. Trivers has reason to be confident that his acknowledgments of others' inputs will not reduce his reputation and that, though some critics may attempt to diminish his project, particularly, posthumously, Robert's theories are not subject to claims that they are derivative. Chapter 4 is titled, “I Become a Lizard Man in Jamaica,” describing how he became “a green lizard freak” after accompanying Ernest Williams there as a research assistant. Some readers will be offended by both men's evaluation of primatologists and, by implication, Anthropology as a field (but, see Chapter 6). In another chapter he denigrates Psychology, and it is clear throughout the memoir that Robert's opinion about what constitutes a Science is a narrow one.

Wild Life is peppered with interesting facts about lizards and other animals, as well as, snapshots of geography and human nature. Chapters 5, 7, 8, 9, and 10 recount a variety of experiences in Jamaica, some of them life-threatening, as well as, significant friendships, mostly with men. The only women who receive a lingering nod in the memoir are “mother-in-law,” “Miss Nini,” and her daughter, Robert's “wife,” Lorna, mother of four of his children. Even though these chapters, and a few other accounts, document Robert's capacity for deep, sincere, and reciprocated feelings, he sometimes refers to friends using clinical, seemingly detached, language.

Chapter 11 is an interesting one in which the author reminisces about his relationship to Huey Newton and the Black Panther Party, and Chapter 12 continues descriptions of his entanglements with intra-specific conflict, including, incarceration. Robert seems not to have learned a litany from Behavioral Ecology that the costs of aggression (or, spite) usually outweigh its benefits (see the self-analysis in Chapter 15, and Parker 1974). Chapter 13, titled, “Vignettes of Famous Evolutionary Biologists,” suggests that, in addition to Drury, Mayr, and Williams, Richard Dawkins and W.D. Hamilton, effectively, complete Trivers' list of illustrious figures in the field who have influenced him and his ideas, and in this chapter, Robert includes a few sarcastic paragraphs about Stephen J. Gould that I consider gratuitous and unnecessary.

The final two chapters are intimate in nature, Chapter 14 is titled, “Ambivalence About Jamaica,” describing the unsettling and increasing rates of violence there. Some readers will find the final chapter haunting since Robert candidly assesses personal failings and outlines his burial plans. I was surprised that he had nothing to say about politics or the state of the world (e.g., climate change, income inequality, racism, biodiversity loss, terrorism), if only to inform the reader about how his opinions and values might have changed since his Black Panther days (“One man's terrorist is another man's freedom fighter.”, as the CIA used to say). His life is not as dark as it may appear, however, since Robert has recently outlined several proposals for future research, specifically, speciation processes (with Koos Boomsma); evolutionary heterogamety; natural selection of honor killings; evolutionary dynamics of homosexuality; and, human evolutionary genetics.

It would be remiss and unrealistic not to provide some academic critique of Trivers' work, and I consider it appropriate to suggest a couple of limitations*. Since I was introduced to his publications in the 1970s by Behavioral Ecologists at Cornell, it has concerned me that Robert's research fails to reflect the importance of Evolutionary Ecology, particularly, evolution in changing environments about which there is a significant literature pre-dating Robert's first publication (e.g., Levins 1968, Lewontin 1957). Though Evolutionary Ecology is relatively recent as a systematic discipline, Robert has a terrific grasp of Population Genetics and G x E interactions, an operation receiving limited treatment, at best, in his publications (e.g., How do “selfish” genes and social traits behave when conditions vary or along gradients? When and under what conditions is social behavior situation-dependent? ...flexible?). Furthermore, his “feel” for statistical thinking is that of an expert, and I would expect more treatment of variation and deviations from central tendencies in his canon.

On the other hand, one way that Trivers' work achieves elegance, is by simplifying complex phenomena; thus, environmentally-focused, realistic theories might not have been as successful, productive, or fundamental. In a sense, the author's insights are primitive in the deep, honorific sense that the word is employed to describe some treatments in pure mathematics. Nonetheless, all theoretical work of import is subject to vetting by subsequent theory, models, experiments and other empirical tests. Already, a few researchers have modified certain details of Trivers' theory of sex ratio selection, and his ideas about parental investment and sexual selection have been challenged by some feminist biologists. Related to any discussion of Robert's legacy, in Wild Life, the memoirist states how important the appreciation of conflict (genetic and whole organism, intra- and inter-individual) has been to his success. In my opinion, this observation confirms Trivers' understanding that asymmetries produce differential “fitness optima” and that differential (asymmetric) phenotypes are exposed to environments upon which selection may act. I strongly recommend Wild Life to all who are interested in Ecology and Evolutionary Biology, not only, for its explication of “wild” experiences, but, also, for insights into how a stunning mind works.

References

Levins R (1968) Evolution in changing environments: some theoretical explorations (No. 2). Princeton University Press.

Lewontin RC (1957) The adaptation of populations to varying environments. Cold Spring Harbor Symp Quant Biol 22: 395-408.

Parker GA (1974) Assessment strategy and the evolution of fighting behaviour. J Theor Biol 224: 115-126,

*Unlike E.O. Wilson, Trivers is not a synthesizer, though his most heralded papers have general import. Trivers has not communicated much interest in a search for general patterns--within, between, and across taxa. Also, again, in contrast to E.O. Wilson, Trivers' canon pays scant attention to Genotype<----->Phenotype<----->Environment<-----> causes and effects. One seeks, for the most part, in vain, to locate Ecology--abiotic & biotic Environments [however conceptualized] in Trivers' writings...

Clara B. Jones (foucault03@gmail.com)

Asheville, NC, USA

February, 2016 In International Society of Behavioral Ecology Newsletter