Books (#9)

I don’t believe in intelligent design. If my belief is misguided, it seems to me that there are some notable design flaws, the primary ones being digestive systems and the whole predator-prey thing.

Henry Beston’s views were different than mine (and he would no doubt have concluded that I get my life from books). Near the end of The Outermost House he wrote this:

And what of Nature itself, you say—that callous and cruel engine, red in tooth and fang? Well, it is not so much of an engine as you think. As for “red in tooth and fang,” whenever I hear the phrase or its intellectual echoes I know that some passer-by has been getting life from books. It is true that there are grim arrangements. Beware of judging them by whatever human values are in style. As well expect Nature to answer to your human values as to come into your house and sit in a chair. The economy of nature, its checks and balances, its measurements of competing life—all this is its great marvel and has an ethic of its own. Live in Nature, and you will soon see that for all its non-human rhythm, it is no cave of pain. As I write I think of my beloved birds of the great beach, and of their beauty and their zest of living. And if there are fears, know also that Nature has its unexpected and unappreciated mercies. 

I bought a copy of the book for my younger nephew, who I think shares some of my pessimistic outlook and depressive tendencies (although I’m not sure for him if those traits have anything to do with the existence of digestive systems). I’m not suggesting he build a cottage on Cape Cod and live there for a year, like Beston did… but if he were to do so, I hope when he’s designing the space he includes a guest room with a vast window onto the dunes and ocean.