Timothy; Or, Notes of an Abject Reptile

Timothy is a tortoise. She understands and speaks English---albeit in incomplete sentences. She knows some geography. She knows the thoughts, the worries and beliefs of the inhabitants of 18th century Selborne, England. She knows what goes on in their churches and their homes, even though she has presumably never entered any. She knows what takes place in winters, even though she has hibernated through every one. Never mind! Suspend your disbelief. Accept that Timothy is omniscient. Enjoy her descriptions and commentary. It reads like poetry, with lots of witty bits and little jabs at the absurdity of humans. It had me laughing out loud at times. On Easter: " 'The lamb who was slain now liveth again,' he [Mr. Gilbert White] believes. And so he says aloud to his parishioners. Though on this earth, the lamb who is slain is supper." This book is a rare treat, so read it slowly. There's a glossary in the back to help with the names of local areas, the obsolete and botanical terms. BTW, The Natural History of Selborne by Gilbert White, which inspired this book, is available to download at Project Gutenberg [...]. A search for "tortoise" points to several letters that mention an unnamed, old Sussex tortoise.

I picked up this book because I'd read a review that compared it to GILEAD, one of my favorite novels of the past 10 years. While the stories are wildly different, the comparison is a good one. Both novels are meant to be read slowly, and will evoke deep emotions about life and humanity. Timothy the tortoise is about as unlikely a narrator as there is. Snatched from his Mediterranean birthplace, he winds up in the garden of Rev. Gilbert White, whose meticulous diaries about his 18th century parish still exist today. Timothy's reflections on the humans around him and on the cycles of life in the village are informed by his slowness, of course, and by his extraordinary longevity (tortoises often live 80 years or more, significantly longer than the humans of White's day). The novel's appreciation of the intricacies of nature, the beauty of the seasons and the value of slowness are meant to be savored, and his reflections on humans and their follies come as sly and often moving little revelations scattered throughout the novel. There's something to appreciate on every page of this short and lyrically written novel. I enjoyed it while sitting in my garden, like Timothy. It's one of the most memorable and unusual novels I've ever read. You won't be disappointed by taking a chance on this one.

I've enthusiastically read Klinkenborg's columns for the New York Times for years, but I entered into this book with some misgivings. Even the title seemed strangely clunky, and after all, how many writers can really pull off a book told from the viewpoint of a tortoise? My doubts were swiftly (by tortoise standards) allayed. This is certainly the most eloquent meditation on the natural world that I've ever read. (And coming from a lifetime Sierra Club member, that just might mean something.) Klinkenborg is not just an extraordinarily gifted writer. I believe he is an admirable human (and tortoise) as well.

What a wry, original, disarming, imaginative, and instructive tale! Author Verlyn Klinkenborg considers the subjective journaling of 18th century English curate Gilbert White regarding a real life tortoise who lived on White's property in Selborne, and from White's biased human observations crafts a rebuttal unlike any other: a bestial philosophic treatise. Timothy is a sentient being who has much to teach us from her example (White in his paternalism erroneously concludes Timothy is male). Through Timothy's narrative we are shown our own species' arrogance, cruelty, and bumbling tack. "How do I escape from that nimble-tongued, fleet footed race?.... Walk through the holes in their attention". Timothy's discourse on instinct versus reason is worthy of university level discussion. "Tottering, stilt-gaited beasts. A sad plight. Reason too often a will-o'-the-wisp. Instinct a relic within them." Jane Austen in a carapace. Elegance amongst the asparagus. As one reviewer notes, this is "one of the best meditations on slowness, patience, and endurance". It will make you re-consider humankinds place in the world. An excellent book club read, it will lead to many long discussions. One can also predict increasing crowds at the reliquary of Timothy's shell at the Natural History Museum in London.

The New York Times, the LA Times and the Miami Herald, among many, have already given Timothy rave reviews, and here is one more. Verlyn Klinkenborg has created the world of a tortoise, and how she lives in the world, as a seamless whole. With the same skill and devotion he brings to the "Rural Life," column in the New York Times, Kinkenborg builds up sensual layers of what Timothy inhabits and what inhabits her: Mediterranean sea and sun and English garden soil, until the reader realizes that for an animal there is no divide, nothing to bridge. You will come away with deepened love of "this one parish," this one world. Read this book, there is nothing like it.