Landscape with Reptile CL

by Thomas Palmer

Book Overview

In this authoritative and entertaining book, first published in 1992, Thomas Palmer introduces us to a community of rattlesnakes nestled in the heart of the urban Northeast, one of several such... This description may be from another edition of this product.

• Format: Hardcover
• Language: English
• ISBN: 0395580846
• ISBN13: 9780395580844
• Release Date: January 1992
• Publisher: Houghton Mifflin
• Length: 340 Pages
• Weight: 0.94 lbs.
• Dimensions: 1.3" x 6.5" x 9.2"

Customer Reviews

take your time and enjoy

This book, about a remnant population of rattlesnakes in the Blue Hills, near Boston, is rather strange, more landscape than reptile. Of course, there is more of the landscape. Palmer says that there are about 50 adult rattlesnakes in the Blue Hills, so that would be about 6 pages for each and every snake, since the book is about 300 pages long. However, the snake is rarely glimpsed in these pages. Everything else in the vicinity is, from Thomas Morton's Maypole to kids scuba diving in a quarry. In other words, this is a book to read slowly and enjoy. No hurry, the snakes are there somewhere, hidden away in cracks and crannies. You may not see them, though. Just read about the Massachusett and other topics. All sorts of other topics. Reading this book, it occurred to me that I probably have a lot more experience with poisonous snakes than most people, including maybe the author. As a teenager living in the San Gabriel Mountains of southern California, quite often I ran into the local rattlers. If they came too close to the house, I killed them, something I never do anymore, because I realized that in each and every case, I was the aggressor. Now I live in a rainforest with lots of snakes. We get along very well, even though I, habitually barefoot, have by accident kicked and even stepped on poisonous snakes which have a bad reputation for aggressiveness. You know those scenes in movies where the snake coils up and attacks somebody? I don't believe it. In all my decades of experience with snakes, I have never seen anything like that. I have seen hikers walk right past snakes without even being aware they were so close. As Palmer points out, snakes save their venom for hunting, and don't squander it for defense. Palmer should have pointed out that in the US, 85% of all snake bites are on the hand or arm; the vast majority of those bitten are men between the ages of 17 and 27; in more than 30% of snakebite cases, the victim is drunk (the situation is similar in Taiwan). In other words, in most cases of snakebite, probably some idiot thought, Wow a snake, and tried to pick it up. I would not blame the snake; I'd bite the jerk too. In my experience, snakes are not aggressive. Keep a distance! Show some respect, because snakes are dangerous (duh), but keep calm and admire their beauty. There is no call to panic or fear when you see a snake. Nonetheless, even for me, encountering a snake can be a powerful experience. I wish Palmer had made the book more personal, and told us some of his own meetings with rattlers. Something else that threw me in the book is that although the copyright is 2004, much seems to have been written about 1990, so he refers to 1980 as ten years ago, mentions `well into this century,' and lists the world population at 5 billion. Take your time and enjoy the book, just don't expect to find too many snakes in here.

Very interesting and readable, but more sociology than natural history

This book covers man's relationship with the Timber Rattlesnake in Massachusetts, with strong coverage of the park which is the rattlesnakes one remaining stronghold in the area. It is NOT a natural history book, though oddly it gave the clearest brief exposition of the evolution of rattlesnakes I ever read. I enjoyed reading the book thoroughly, and learned a lot about the historical relations of Boston residents with nature and especially rattlesnakes. Oddly, I didn't learn much about rattlesnakes that was new to me! Mostly worth reading if the history of the Boston area is of interest to you, or if you have a special interest in the natural history of the region. Others can read it for enjoyment, but won't find it astoundingly useful.

The History of a Uniquely American Demon

A number of years ago while walking in broad daylight I placed my foot inadvertently within a foot of a western diamondback rattlesnake near the Rio Grande in southern New Mexico. The snake, who seemed to have been sleeping in the late afternoon sun and was facing away from me (fortunately), shot off in the opposite direction, rattling furiously. I could have killed it easily, as it coiled under a bush nearby, still rattling, but I did not. In fact I've killed only one rattlesnake in my life- a young diamondback that was under a board at the back door of a house in Tucson. This is not for lack of seeing them, from balcktails in the mountains to diamondbacks, mojaves and sidewinders in the desert and prairie rattlers in the grasslands, I've had my share of rattlesnake encounters. I just don't understand why I should destroy such a magnificent beast in its own habitat. Thomas Palmer's book "Landscape with Reptile: Rattlesnakes in an Urban World" documents the history, both natural and human, of the relationship between snake and habitat and between man and rattlesnake (in this case the timber rattlesnake of Massachusetts- the easternmost species in the United States.) I've never seen this species in the wild, but it is similar in appearance and habitat to our western blacktails. Palmer has a similar appreciation to mine for the feisty reptiles, as he demonstrates in his writing. The history that Palmer recounts is certainly bumpy. The urge to destroy these snakes has been pervasive. There are now few rattlesnakes left in Massachusetts, mostly thanks to the antipathy between man and snake. Palmer shows that from the moment the Puritans laid eyes on the fierce rattlesnake they knew they must eliminate this minion of Satan, and so it has gone. Now all the timber rattlers in Massachusetts live in the Blue Hills near Boston. The colony is protected because it exists on a reserve, but the snakes, even today, are often regarded with suspicion and even hatred. Indeed (as Palmer documents), the bite of a rattlesnake is no joke. Still the death rate from all the snakebites in North America pales when compared with the slaughter caused by the automobile. The last I heard we were in no mood as a nation to ban the use of the internal combustion engine yet. I found a few minor errors (great auks are not penguins), but generally this is a fascinating and well researched and written account. Palmer is perhaps a bit more optimistic about our species than I am, but I also see his point- we are as much a part of the landscape as the snakes are in the long run and we as a species have some positive aspects as well. It is almost certainly correct to say that both environmentalists and proponents of the conquest of nature ascribe more power to our species than we probably have. We can do a lot of damage, but "nature" is quite capable if booting us. We cannot reclaim the biodiversity of the pre-human Pleistocene in North America as a whole (as some might