1. Rats by Robert Sullivan

I dig these sorts of books. Singular in focus, quirky, infotaining, pop history without being brainless. Rats is exactly what it claims to be (and a little more, my only complaint): "Observations on the History and Habitat of the City's Most Unwanted Inhabitants." Sullivan spent a year (by happenstance starting no long before Sept. 11, 2011) observing a dogleg alley in Manhattan, close to Wall Street, and in this book chronicles said alley's vermin inhabitants.

Honestly, it's pretty good.

Sullivan explores the nature of the "wild rat," but also uses it as a lens to focus on certain aspects of the city, population expansion, trash and disease. He also digs into the rat itself, its social habits and habitat, how it thrives, its negative image in the broader culture (and really, it's sort of deserving of it) and how it will always fit into our ecosystems. The rat, its life based around our detritus, certainly says something important about our way of life (right? Yeah, maybe).

Of particular interest are the times when he first observes them and sees how they start rummaging through trash bags, their wriggly bodies seen only as bulges roaming underneath the black plastic of the Chinese restaurant's garbage sacks. We all know rats exist in the alleys and sewers of "the world," especially the city, but rarely do we get the opportunity to examine their behavior. Nor do historians or zoologists care about these four-legged flea factories save when their actions coincide with an outbreak of plague. But they are a fascinating animal on their own, able to survive and thrive in a variety of locations and environments. It's that history we get into over the course of the book, their crossing our paths.

Yet...it's these diversions from the more zoological aspect of the book that didn't always carry water for me. The rent strike in large part because of rat infestation - yeah, that was interesting social history. But not all of the rest. I will admit, I wanted more of his stories observing from his camp stool across the street from the alley, further detail on all aspects of the urban (and beyond) dwellings.

Wouldn't it have been great if he followed an exterminator on a long-ranging underground excursion, not to find the rat Shambhala, but just to see these hidden dens in full flower. Not that his trip with some city trappers wasn't informative, but I love the nature documentaries that stick the camera down into the nest, follow the creek's bottom dwellers: a zoom lens on the micro among us. He certainly looked at the city's trash and visited more than one exterminator (once more proving they aren't all crazy chemical-spewing, kill-happy stereotypes).

Reading this, I didn't find his presentation gross, but I'm not squeamish when I'm just reading about something. Perhaps, in the oily fur, some of these scenes would be a little much (no, not in the slightest, says the kid in me). This is pretty good urban zoological history; just don't expect it to have quite the breadth of a book written by a true biologist. Sullivan's eye looks to the social impact and tangents for healthy chunks of this slim book.

Still, not disappointed that I read it, and I will absolutely read more by him (such as The Meadowlands, about the maligned NJ swamp home to an abundance of wildlife and pollution in equal measures).

And how about that cover! One of the best I've seen. One more time:

3.75/5

-EMH