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A review by willrefuge
Below the Edge of Darkness: A Memoir of Exploring Light and Life in the Deep Sea by Edith Widder
4.0
7.5 / 10 ✪
https://arefugefromlife.wordpress.com/2023/01/11/below-the-edge-of-darkness-by-edith-widder-review/
Below the Edge of Darkness serves a dual purpose. Intended both as an introduction to the world of bioluminescence and the deep ocean depths, it also serves as a memoir of one Edith Widder—one of the pioneer marine biologists exploring the ocean deep, deep down below the sight of visible light.
I came into this one with no real expectations. Well… okay, I expected the science. I showed up for the science. I started with an expectation of science. What I got (at least initially) was not science. As anyone would in a memoir, Edith Widder spends a lot of time talking about herself. About her childhood, her schooling, the things that made her want to get into marine biology in the first place. I kinda figured that there would be an element of this as well, but maybe not to such an extent. What I did not expect—and what actually turned me off the book at first—was the hook.
Every story starts with a hook. Fiction, at least; thriller, mystery, fantasy, ya, some other variety of book people might read… Even some non-fiction like case-studies and biographies start with a hook. Something to draw the reader in, get them asking “and what happened next?”, something to keep them around. So yeah, I expected a hook. But what I expected was for it to be something on the nature of a dwindling resource, pollution, lack of funding—something about the science. I didn’t expect the hook to be about the author or her life.
No reason why, I guess. Not that I can think of now, at least. Sufficient to say, however, that back when I first started this book—in the late summer of 2021—I didn’t care. About the author, about the reason, about the hook. I wanted some science. To lose myself in the beauty of nature, the technical world, in an attempt to catalogue and understand the very nature of creation itself.
Come 2022, I was struggling to read anything, and found this in the backlog. I already had the audiobook—figured I might as well give it a shot. And, while I didn’t love it, I did enjoy Below the Edge of Darkness.
From what you can probably tell, I’m not a big memoir person. I don’t obsess over unknowable people and their lives to the point that I don’t care to read about some random person that I’ll likely never meet. (And yes, this includes Gandhi, Mother Theresa, or Alfred Noble—I’m never going to meet any of them, so their day to day workings kinda bore me. Read from this what you will, but hey—there’s a reason I mostly read fantasy books.)
Still, while I didn’t show up for the memoir part, I found it mostly interesting. And I’m… somewhat intolerant of this subject in general. I find Cosmos just pretentious and boring. I’m a hard sell.
At the time she was in school, the whole idea of women in science was laughable. After all, the world was still iffy on the idea of “women in the workplace”. But science—science is for men. Women had no capacity to understand or comprehend most of it and blah blah blah. Just… I’ll never understand this, but whatever. So much of Edith Widder’s life was spent just trying to convince some people that she belonged. That she was just as capable as her counterparts. What she overcame in her life to actually make it to the sea floor was quite impressive. What she ranted and raved about constantly was mostly interesting, but again, my brain craved science, and in the end that’s what kept me around.
There’s just enough about the nature of bioluminescence to make this work in a scientific journal. Not enough for a case-study; it reads more like an autobiography with bits of science thrown in to round out the reader’s perspective. I probably would’ve liked more, but it still served as a crash course into the world of bioluminescence, investigating the giant squid, and exploring the deep ocean. I know I ranted way more about the memoir part than I should’ve, but I’m not going to change it now.
Read it if you’re into that kinda thing: memoirs, bioluminescence, the ocean deep, the majesty of nature and the lives of folk you’ll likely never meet. Or if you’ve just grown upset at my blasé review of it. As I said before, it’s mostly pretty good. I’d recommend it.
https://arefugefromlife.wordpress.com/2023/01/11/below-the-edge-of-darkness-by-edith-widder-review/
Below the Edge of Darkness serves a dual purpose. Intended both as an introduction to the world of bioluminescence and the deep ocean depths, it also serves as a memoir of one Edith Widder—one of the pioneer marine biologists exploring the ocean deep, deep down below the sight of visible light.
I came into this one with no real expectations. Well… okay, I expected the science. I showed up for the science. I started with an expectation of science. What I got (at least initially) was not science. As anyone would in a memoir, Edith Widder spends a lot of time talking about herself. About her childhood, her schooling, the things that made her want to get into marine biology in the first place. I kinda figured that there would be an element of this as well, but maybe not to such an extent. What I did not expect—and what actually turned me off the book at first—was the hook.
Every story starts with a hook. Fiction, at least; thriller, mystery, fantasy, ya, some other variety of book people might read… Even some non-fiction like case-studies and biographies start with a hook. Something to draw the reader in, get them asking “and what happened next?”, something to keep them around. So yeah, I expected a hook. But what I expected was for it to be something on the nature of a dwindling resource, pollution, lack of funding—something about the science. I didn’t expect the hook to be about the author or her life.
No reason why, I guess. Not that I can think of now, at least. Sufficient to say, however, that back when I first started this book—in the late summer of 2021—I didn’t care. About the author, about the reason, about the hook. I wanted some science. To lose myself in the beauty of nature, the technical world, in an attempt to catalogue and understand the very nature of creation itself.
Come 2022, I was struggling to read anything, and found this in the backlog. I already had the audiobook—figured I might as well give it a shot. And, while I didn’t love it, I did enjoy Below the Edge of Darkness.
From what you can probably tell, I’m not a big memoir person. I don’t obsess over unknowable people and their lives to the point that I don’t care to read about some random person that I’ll likely never meet. (And yes, this includes Gandhi, Mother Theresa, or Alfred Noble—I’m never going to meet any of them, so their day to day workings kinda bore me. Read from this what you will, but hey—there’s a reason I mostly read fantasy books.)
Still, while I didn’t show up for the memoir part, I found it mostly interesting. And I’m… somewhat intolerant of this subject in general. I find Cosmos just pretentious and boring. I’m a hard sell.
At the time she was in school, the whole idea of women in science was laughable. After all, the world was still iffy on the idea of “women in the workplace”. But science—science is for men. Women had no capacity to understand or comprehend most of it and blah blah blah. Just… I’ll never understand this, but whatever. So much of Edith Widder’s life was spent just trying to convince some people that she belonged. That she was just as capable as her counterparts. What she overcame in her life to actually make it to the sea floor was quite impressive. What she ranted and raved about constantly was mostly interesting, but again, my brain craved science, and in the end that’s what kept me around.
There’s just enough about the nature of bioluminescence to make this work in a scientific journal. Not enough for a case-study; it reads more like an autobiography with bits of science thrown in to round out the reader’s perspective. I probably would’ve liked more, but it still served as a crash course into the world of bioluminescence, investigating the giant squid, and exploring the deep ocean. I know I ranted way more about the memoir part than I should’ve, but I’m not going to change it now.
Read it if you’re into that kinda thing: memoirs, bioluminescence, the ocean deep, the majesty of nature and the lives of folk you’ll likely never meet. Or if you’ve just grown upset at my blasé review of it. As I said before, it’s mostly pretty good. I’d recommend it.