Books, naturalists, and footnotes
The latest TLS has a nice review, by Jim Endersby, of a book they call Books and Naturalists, and which LibraryThing calls Nature Publishing in Britain (the latter title wouldn’t have caught my eye quite so effectively, I have to say).1
Packed into the half-page review are several moments of quality comedy. We learn of George Montagu, “who brought his sense of military discipline, keen observational eye and shotgun to bear on Britain’s birds.” Also of the elusive List of the Birds that have been Observed to Breed in the Island of Arran Scotland, since the year 1835 — elusive because it was never printed, being invented “by an unscrupulous egg dealer” who claimed to be able to supply eggs from the author’s collection.
But these days I hardly bother to post unless there’s something to get annoyed by. And there is.
Sadly, it lacks footnotes, which is a loss to real nerds but in keeping with the New Naturalist goal of accessibility.
Now really. What on earth is inaccessible about the footnote?2 I am speaking, yes, as a “real nerd”, but what possible reason can there be to deny me the pleasure (and an educational pleasure, at that) of my footnotes?
I can only presume that the publishers believe that some might be put off by the humble footnote; might be (heavens forbid) even discouraged from reading, overawed by the sheer weight of academic seriousness it implies.
Against this view, in the generous hope of educating the public (and drawing on my many years of academic experience and the still-raw memories of completing a PhD) I’m going to tell you an important, but not often admitted-to, secret about footnotes.
You don’t have to read them.
Notes:
- Seriously, Books and Naturalists reads like someone in the PR department decided, “We are marketing this book to Tikitu.” Why oh why would you change something so perfect? [↪]
- The endnote, I’ll grant you, is inaccessible — although only in comparison to the footnote, not to the absence of any referencing whatsoever, which seems to be what the review implies. My spine comes out in shivers at the very thought. [↪]
Comments
Right, you're a Serious Fan. So tell me: is "Unseen Academicals" typical of late (or should I say recent) Pratchett? I picked it up in an airport (and how glad I was, when I hit a four-hour delay then an enforced layover...) but was pretty unimpressed. (I went off him quite some time ago, felt like I was being fed recycled comic genius.) The very first page is filled with trademark footnote, but they seemed to die off after that.
Relatedly, I just read a review of Jeff VanderMeer's King Squid, which exhorted its readers to pay careful attention to the bibliography. My reaction was a bit, "What kind of person doesn't read the bibliography?"
I had a plan, when dissertating, of putting only jokes in the footnotes. (If it was serious enough to need footnoting, it was serious enough to work into the text.) Didn't work out, unsurprisingly.
I can think of at least a couple of books that surpass Pratchett's footnotes.
I'd say Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell is the pinnacle of footnotedom. Those digressions take on a life of their own. Some contain complete stories within a single footnote.
And, I recently went through The Selected Works of T.S. Spivet. That wouldn't have been a success were it not for the intricate footnotes. Although, if you want to be be precise, they're not entirely footnotes, more of a side-note train of consciousness.
I'm in agreement on Strange & Norrell; T.S. Spivet I thought wasn't actually a success, and calling them "footnotes" is indeed a bit of a stretch.
Turns out Wikipedia has some other suggestions. (I got there trying to remember the name Infinite Jest.) I'm pleased at how many of those I've read, and also at how many still remain for me to read.
The Third Policeman rivals Strange & Norrell in terms of pure footnotely enjoyment (all the De Selby stuff, which is something of a parallel novel, lives there).
So true. :-D I still tend to check footnotes though, in the hope of something good. Blame Pratchett.