Sweetness & Light: The Mysterious History of the Honeybee

This beautifully written book allows the pleasurable ingestion of numerous curious and intriging facts by coating them with honey. I have never enjoyed a non-fiction book as much!

I find honeybees fascinating, and when I went to find a book, this was the first thing in my search. It was a great find. The book has a lot of information, but also it isn't dull to read like some books. The information is spliced in with her personal experiences and descriptions of various types of honey. Plus, the woman writes beautifully. Her writing style is romantic and concise, presumably because she is a food writer. But if you are at all interested in bees or honey, I highly recommend it. If you are someone who already knows a lot about the science behind bees, most of the basic information you may already know, but perhaps not the history of the hive, old traditions with bees, or the way honey is classified the world over. And there is an amazing section on how the Africanized bees came to this country and how things went awry. It was an absolutely delightful book to read, and I was sad when I came to the last pages, Ellis pulled me into the world of bees and honey, and I was truly attached to some of the people she had met in her journey to do research for the book. It truly was a joy in every way that a book should be.

I was enchanted by this book. Artfully written, it gives you a real sense of the history of the honey bee and of the people who cultivated it. Hattie Ellis incorporates a great diversity of viewpoints and imparts her love of the myriad flavors of honey, honey products and the foods they grew up with.

It's amazing to receive two books on honey and honeybees virtually simultaneously from different publishers, but that's how the publishing world goes, and Sweetness And Light is one of the two, following the stories of bees and honey from ancient to modern times. Hattie Ellis' history blends social issues, science, travel and nature insights, and comes from a columnist who specializes in writing about food. Lively anecdotes follow the history, especially the individuals involved in pioneering discoveries in the field. A 'must' for honey historians.

Jonathan Swift, in _The Battle of the Books_, wrote about bees that they had filled their hives with honey and wax, "... thus furnishing mankind with the two noblest of things, which are sweetness and light." The quote is the epigram for Hattie Ellis's book, Sweetness & Light: The Mysterious History of the Honeybee (Harmony Books). The book is partly a travelogue, as she visits different continents and describes their particular honeys, and a partly a review of bee literature, as well as an account of biology and natural history affecting human history. It is thus a wide-ranging tale, but anyone reading it will understand that bees and humans have had an intimate connection that surpasses in complexity any other we have made to domesticated animals. Ellis's book begins with the evolution of the bee; the oldest known bee was found in New Jersey, preserved in amber from around a hundred million years ago. Cave paintings going back some 8,000 years show honey-hunters, climbing trees with ancient vessels to bring back sweet treasure. When humans left hunter-gathering and settled on agriculture, they also made pots and baskets; probably some bees took advantage of such containers for their hives, and thus the venerable partnership was born. The Egyptians were the first farmers to keep bees, and many of their practices from over 4,000 years ago are still used by beekeepers. Honeybees are part of the old world, not native elsewhere, but they have been carried all over the world. Transporting them was difficult, for they would be two months at sea to reach America, or six months to Australia. Among the most interesting of chapters here is the one having to do with urban bees and beekeepers. Urban honey has its advantages, among which are that the bees forage on a varied horticultural diet, the flowers of which are untouched by pesticides and chemicals of agriculture. Ellis interviews a beekeeper who has seventeen hives on rooftops in New York, and shuttles by subway to tend them. He got the use of the rooftops by advertising, and giving a percentage of the honey to the owners of the buildings. Ellis tells over and over incidents that recount a particular closeness to our one domesticated insect. There is folklore devoted to bees that has no equivalent in, say, the raising of cattle. Bees were often thought of as part of the family, and "telling the bees" is an ancient, and still current, ritual to keep them in the family circle. Family news, like an upcoming wedding, is whispered to a hive, and some wedding cake eventually left for the bees to consume. The bees certainly had to be told of deaths, and perhaps a bit of food from the obsequies left for them. If the beekeeper died, the hives, perhaps with black crepe on them, were turned away from the procession. Such traditions make a modicum of sense; if a beekeeper dies, the intimate connection between keeper and bees is broken, and the importance of a connection to the new keepe