Philosopher Mark Rowlands is not what one would classically think of as a great writer, in that his prose is not supernally poetic like Loren Eiseley’s, he does not use easily understood but well-targeted metaphors like Stephen Jay Gould, nor does he have the raw power that Friedrich Nietszche did. But he manages to convey highly nuanced and deep concepts in remarkably simple sentences and constructs as he grounds each seemingly pedestrian sentence with its neighbor in ways that crescendo.
Such was my conclusion in reading his latest book, The Philosopher And The Wolf, put out by Granta books. I’d first encountered Rowlands whilst reading his delightful trip through pop culture, called The Philosopher At The End Of The Universe, a book that melded big budget sci fi film ideas with old time big questions. Later, I interviewed Rowlands, and first found out a bit about his relationship with wolves, or one wolf in particular. Now, I’ve read the book, and can report that it is a great book, indeed. And anyone who has read my reviews of books, poetry, films, and pop culturata, knows I do not toss about the G word lightly.
The book starts off well, but picks up a full head of steam about midway, and its final section (of nine), called "The Religion Of The Wolf," is among the finest distillations, in published prose, of a scholar’s beliefs since I first read the essays of the above mentioned Eiseley. Again, Rowlands’ tack and style (variegated ideas that form a synergy, rather than poetic wordcraft) is vastly different, but the end result, greatness, is the same, and the last chapter is so superb that it raises the whole text into the realm of greatness. It truly is one of the great texts in modern English; certainly of the last half century.
The Philosopher And The Wolf: Lessons in Love, Death, and Happiness chronicles the decade or more that Rowlands raised, lived with, and shared his life with a wolf he named Brenin. If this were another writer and another book, such a premise could easily slip into Jonathan Livingston Seagull or Oprah book level absurdity or narcissism. But, it does not, and I can guarantee that Oprah Winfrey would never be intelligent nor decent enough to endorse such a book on her show, because it does not indulge the ego of dim-witted readers. In the first section, Rowlands describes how and why he acquired a wolf pup, and how he eventually trained it (although ‘train’ is a word Rowlands avoids) to behave, even when he brought his wolf to lectures he gave and classes he taught. Rowlands digresses a bit on an Iroquois myth about wolves and their representation in that culture’s mythos, but, again, it is not with the simpletonian nature lover’s inane glee that one would expect, for Rowlands is never masturbatory, nor self-indulgent. Why?
Article comments
1 - Sebastian
"smite the apostate down"
That's the language of the Taliban. It has no place in educated society... not even as a metaphor.
This article was a muddle-headed meander of pseudo-science, and superstitious moralising. The errors of logic and fact are so numerous the article is not worth correcting.
Incidentally, fish have a highly developed sense of touch (including an organ designed specifically for it which we do not share: try to guess what it is) and are perfectly capable of feeling pain. What little research there has been into their intelligence also demonstrates a capacity for learning and memory.
It is an error of Victorian proportions to assume that lack of personal knowledge is equivalent to knowledge of lack.