Unexpectedly poignant book about the obsessions of birding, travel, dreams and accomplishments, all told through the prism of personal memoir/biography from a man whose father who saw over 7,000 birds. The structure used a specifically researched focus (birding) with related interludes on wide-ranging topics with a personal and philosophical touches woven throughout. This approach really worked well - reminiscent of similar styles on “An Odyssey” by Daniel Mendelsohn and “On Trails” by Robert Moor. It also introduced some new terms for me - “Listers”, “Splitters”, and “Lumpers”. Some passages:

“It seems obvious, but you can’t count a lot of birds if there aren’t a lot of birds. What makes that an interesting thought is that the number of birds on Earth has been growing- rapidly. When Dad first started birding, there were believe to be about 8,600 known species. Today there are closer to ten thousand - and in a decade or two, some ornithologists believe that number could double, or even triple.”

“The summer before classes were to begin, I think, was the last chance Dad had as a young man to take a path of his own choosing. With a copy of Kerouac’s “On the Road” in his pocket and Peterson’s “A Field Guide to Western Birds” on the passenger seat, Dad signed up with a drive-away car transporter company and traveled cross-country.”

“Dad told me that he had to accept responsibility. Most of us have met that moment where we suddenly realize the things that we once sought are falling into a different order of priorities. Sometimes we have to find a way to change our lives, to re-embrace that which seems to be vanishing. Other times we simply abandon our dreams.”

“In retrospect, I’m not so sure birding’s popularity rose because it cured any inherent illness in the modern world. Rather it seems to be that listing is one of the most earth-friendly examples of manifest destiny - it doesn’t solve the problems of modern life, it brings a measure of control to them. Yes, birding was (and is) an antidote, but it’s efficacy comes not by providing a sylvan counterbalance to that uncertainty, but by adding to a chaotic world an element of power and control. Counting birds is an assertive way for the average person to gain mastery over nature.”

I've been terribly conflicted about this book. As others have written, it's mostly about the broken relationship between an obsessed "lister" (a birdwatcher that attempts to see as many species as possible), and his son. For one conflict is that, frankly, the lister seems to be a terrible person - though evaluating a book based on that would be doing it a disservice. More substantially, the book is more about the relationship between the author and his father (and here is where it shines most) than about birding. Even when the book does get more in depth about birding, big omissions are left - nowhere does the book seem to tackle tough ethical questions of listing - for example, the environmental footprint caused by listing and the ethical questions of using playback - playing recordings of birds is known to be stressful to them - merely for the sake of marking another bird down on a list.

This wasn’t the book I was expecting.

I guess I wanted a book more about birds and less about birding. I only have myself to blame for this; the description is pretty clear as to what the book is about. Still, I was surprised, and a little bit sad, about the tone of the book. Seeing over 7,000 species of birds in a lifetime seems like an incredible feat, one that I can’t totally wrap my head around. For example, if I saw one new bird everyday, it would take me over 19 years to see 7,000. But the way that Richard’s (Koeppel’s father) birding is described in the book took away the marvel of the feat. Koeppel reiterates time and time again that his father doesn’t even like birds… Excuse me?!

I would say that Koeppel is jaded with his father’s birding obsession for 90 percent of the book (not without good reason). While I appreciate the honest portrayal, I still would have liked to see a bit more balance between awe and critique. This book was also a little too speculative for me, like Koeppel was forcing a storyline and trying to explain his father’s obsession based on fragments of memory. A little too unscientific for me.

The title tagline actually describes the book - Dan Koeppel talks about his first his father's life and how it intertwines more and more with the world of top-level bird watching (Listing), then he talks about his own life and how his father's birding affected him and his family as a whole. I appreciated that he wrote in the things that weren't great - about his family and his own choices, instead of making everyone seem 'okay'. Using the word obsession should indicate something that has sweeping effects, and if the effects hadn't been discussed, the birding would have seemed less urgent, not so much an obsession.
I was pleasantly surprised by the amount of nature still in NYC in the early parts of the book. (I'm not focusing on the fact that a lot of it is gone.) I want to google image many of the birds mentioned in the book, and thought perhaps the only way the book could have beena little better (to me) was if it included some color illustrations of the birds that make important appearances. (perhaps a set of color plates in the middle of the book).

An entertaining and light read for the birder in your life. Touches on some of birding history, family dynamics and the world of bird 'listers'.

Interesting, but oftentimes overly personal.

I loved the idea and story behind this book. The exploration of obsession through the lens of “big listing” and birding was fascinating. Parts of the personal stories were moving and at times heart wrenching. I connected with many of the characters in different ways for different reasons.

My only critique is a small one. There were a few times that the book seemed to repeat itself. An idea or statement would reappear later on in the story, almost verbatim. It gave me a weird sense of deja vu, as if I had read this chapter before.

Otherwise a great read!

I will gladly read any book having to do with birds, so it is not surprising that I enjoyed this. The author took a different angle than I was anticipating (It was more of a biography/memoir than a nature book), but I still found it interesting. Overall, it served as an intriguing look at the sport of birding, family dynamics, dreams vs. duty, and the line between passion and obsession. However, something about the described 'big listers' and their motivations saddens me. Of course, the author does share a (kind of) similar stance, and I appreciate his willingness to dig deeper to try to understand the nature of obsession.

Microhistories are a subgenre of non-fiction books which take a particular subject or single event and through intensive historical research try to contextualize the chosen subject within the broader picture. As a history nerd, I find that a well written microhistory uncovers a previously unthought-of subject or event and breathes life into the history cannon as a whole. Several years ago I read and enjoyed a microhistory called Banana: The Fate of the Fruit that Changed the World by Dan Koeppel.

The Banana book led me here. This book is part microhistory, part memoir and is shelved (appropriately) in the bird section next to bird identification books. Koeppel is primarily an outdoor journalist and has written a very intimate book about his father and his life as a Big Lister. This book takes you both into the world of the Koeppel family (the memoir part) but also into the world of birds, bird identification and the few people in the world who have seen and listed more than 6,000 bird species (the microhistory part). Koeppel tries to answer the questions about obsession, science, nature, competition, and family dynamics - and does a good job of guiding those not obsessed with birds through this new world. The details about their family dovetail nicely with the birding world to make for a very interesting read. I would suggest this title for anyone who enjoys nature writing and doesn't mind something a little personal.

Great read for any birder (or companion of a birder)!