Book Review: Bugged Delivers a Mixed Bag

Well over a year ago, someone at St. Martin's Press contacted me by e-mail asking me to review David MacNeal's latest effort, Bugged: The Insects Who Rule the World and the People Obsessed with Them (2017, St. Martin's Press, 297 pp). They would hardly take no for an answer, sent me an advance uncorrected page proof, and so finally, here is my assessment, colored by the circumstances of my receipt of the book, my lack of familiarity with MacNeal's previous works, and my personal biases, which I will reveal honestly.

First, my sincerest compliments to the author for his most thorough research, his diligent reading of numerous books and scientific papers, and in-person visits with the human subjects highlighted in Bugged. Whatever shortcomings the book may have, the foundation it was built on is as solid as they come. Additionally, I can say that in my opinion the book gets markedly better the farther the reader gets into it. Unfortunately, I found the first one-third to two-thirds of the book to be an exercise in the author's ego, perhaps due to my own peculiar style that I prefer to write in, and the approach to the subject that I would rather read.

The chapters reflect an overall theme that I am personally averse to: that in order to validate their existence, all non-human organisms must prove they have an economic value to humanity.

MacNeal may simply be trying too hard in the first chapters to convince the reader that he is edgy, funny, irreverent, intellectual, and jet-setting. It comes off as self-centered in my opinion, and aimed more toward those who value shock-and-awe prose. I prefer that an author remove themselves as much as possible from non-fiction, save for memoirs and autobiographies. I personally try to get out of the way of the story when I am writing myself, unless my direct experience is the story. I see no need for profanity ever, not because I am opposed to it, but because I think it can be a distraction if not a detraction from the rest of the words used. I do not try and paint myself as intellectually superior by throwing around words and phrases from foreign languages.

The choice of categories that define the chapters was predictable: Insect specimens as novel merchandise, social insects as a parallel to human societies, insect and spider sex lives, insects as disease-carriers, the pest control industry, insects in forensic science, insects and other arthropods as the source of inventions and advancement of technology, insects as live entertainment in Asia, entomophagy (intentional human consumption of insects as food), and honey bees as perhaps the most important of all insects (to mankind).

The chapters reflect an overall theme that I am personally averse to: that in order to validate their existence, all non-human organisms must prove they have an economic value to humanity. Maybe MacNeal recognizes this and is planning a sequel that will visit topics like endangered insects and the people working to save them, the economic impact of "ecological services" provided by insects and related invertebrates, and the myriad of citizen science projects available for his readers to participate in and become active contributors to science instead of passively entertained by his books. MacNeal does give a nod to ecological services, as almost literally a footnote (another aspect of books that I find distracting and mildly irritating); and he lists a few conservation organizations in the acknowledgements at the end of the book.

The bottom line is that I am glad the book was written, but I would have preferred that someone else had written it. If you enjoy this brand of storytelling that focuses on both insects and people, you may be better off reading works by Richard Conniff or Sue Hubbell.

Does MacNeal succeed in recruiting a new generation of entomology-appreciators? Hard to say. I think it takes actual in-person engagement with scientists to achieve that, and I hope that Bugged encourages readers to take that next, crucial step toward a better understanding of invertebrates in general, and an appreciation of those people, not the eccentrics you presume them to be, who make a living in the science of entomology.

Book Review: Dr. Eleanor's Book of Common Spiders

One resource that has been missing from the recent explosion of spider-related material coming from various publishers has been a book aimed squarely at the average homeowner or gardener with something other than an all-consuming passion for arachnids. "Dr. Eleanor" to the rescue with Dr. Eleanor's Book of Common Spiders (Chicago: The University of Chicago Press. 2018. 96 pp.).

Eleanor Spicer Rice, who already has several related titles under her belt, mostly about ants, has teamed up with Chris Buddle to deliver a nicely organized, thoroughly researched book on the spider species that the public most often asks about. You know, the eight-legged critter crawling across the kitchen floor, the infamous "shower spider," and the ones you always see in the (insert shed, basement, garage, or other appropriate venue).

The authors treat their subjects with accuracy, clarity, and brevity, while still managing to cultivate the same sense of fascination in the reader that they, as scientists and writers, have already found for themselves. This is no small feat. There is a dash of humor here and there as well, and they are not above poking fun at themselves. Color photographs, mostly by Sean McCann, complement the lively text and enhance the impact of the book. Whether arachnophobes will reach for it on the bookstore shelf, or over the online vendors remains to be seen. I hope they do.

Even if the book were a complete failure otherwise, it would bear recommending for this passage alone:

"Striped lynx spiders prefer biding their time in agricultural fields. When we plant our crops with only one or two types of plant per field, we humans essentially sow arthropod grocery superstores. In nature, any given species of plant is often mixed in with other plant species and so bugs that like a particular plant species may need to search to find the plansts they like. As a result, only a limited number of bugs can live in an area. It's like living in a town with a gas station-sized grocery store. In our human-planted superstores, however, tons of insects that like our crops can move into the giant all-you-can-eat buffet of a farm, filled with only their favorite foods. These insects become agricultural pests, gobbling up billions of dollars' worth of food we grow for ourselves each year."

Exactly. I have said the same thing myself in my own publications, about how humans are responsible for creating their own insect pests. Further, all the crop plants are equally vulnerable because they have identical genetics. Not so in nature. Watch a butterfly laying eggs. She won't oviposit on every plant; only on those a little weaker in their chemical defenses.

My only quibbles with the book stem mostly from the fact that I am a writer, too. There were a couple of bad word choices, but I see worse errors in other books. There was one implied assertion that is incorrect, however. In the Frequently Asked Questions part of the back matter, one FAQ concerns whether all spiders are venomous. The authors indicate they are. This is not true. Spiders in the family Uloboridae, common in North America, lack venom glands. Lastly, there are some common English names for certain spider species or genera that were apparently created just for this book. There is no such thing as a "Ceiling Spider," even though I would endorse that name for Cheiracanthium species because that is exactly where you encounter them.

Enough nit-picking. The "up sides" of this handy volume are much more numerous. It is a paperback, and of a size that is large enough to not lose easily in a stack of other books, and comfortable to handle for those of us who are all thumbs. Again, the text is a joy to read. Spicer and Buddle manage to give each spider a personality that reflects its biology. This style comes close to anthropomorphism, but I am all in favor of whatever it takes to win more arachnophiles. Spiders need all the friends they can get in Humanland.

One of my measures of the goodness of a book like this is whether it teaches me, a longtime naturalist, something new. This book did that, in spades. I love being surprised with new knowledge, and with that I heartily recommend Dr. Eleanor's Book of Common Spiders.