Books for Adults: Summer

Reviews by Alice Ellerby, Saffia Farr and Jess Hazel

Is a River Alive by Robert Macfarlane, Hamish Hamilton

This book arrives at a time when our rivers are in crisis. There is a steady stream of headlines about illegal raw sewage discharges, fertiliser run-off, and vanishing springs. The damage is undeniable.

Somewhere along the way, especially among those in power, we’ve lost sight of how deeply our lives are intertwined with water. Rivers have been commodified, viewed more as utilities than living systems. In some areas, water once considered sacred now flows undrinkable, unsafe to swim in, unsafe even to touch.

While it’s disheartening, there is so much hope in this book. My perspective was shifted right at the start by a transformative idea: “Water flows in and through us. Running, we are rivers. Seated, we are pools.” Rivers are not separate from us; they are part of us.

Throughout the book, Macfarlane weaves poetry, grief and activism into a vivid current of stories. We join him on three journeys across the planet, starting from the delicate chalk springs of Cambridge, close to his home, through Ecuador’s cloud forests, where the rivers are threatened by the gold mining industry, to Chennai, in India, tracing the source of the rivers they are desperately trying to save, and finally, to the raging torrents of a wild river in Quebec – the Mutehekau (or Magpie, in English). We are taken on icy swims, jungle treks, walks through fireflies, and journeys over fjords with beluga whales. I love how he returns to his local springs between each far-flung journey, rooting his experiences in the landscape of home.

Macfarlane reflects, “Most of us, I think, once felt rivers to be alive… Young children instinctively inhabit and respond to a teeming world of talkative trees, singing rivers, and thoughtful mountains.”

In Chennai, where Macfarlane is walking the city’s three rivers, activist Yuvan Aves says to him: “Children are born as animists and then they lose that power... Or rather it is taken from them.” That line resonated. We are born with an innate connection to nature, which often diminishes over time. The book invites us to reclaim our place within it.

I’ve sometimes overlooked the ‘forgotten’ streams, the ones that meander behind housing estates or seem out of place, confined in urban settings. Stripped of their natural surroundings, they seem less alive, less desirable to spend time with. But this book reminded me that these rivers still live. They flow, regardless of the changes around them. As caretakers of this Earth, it’s vital we protect them.

Is a River Alive? helps us reimagine rivers as living, interconnected beings – essential and sacred. It stirs significant questions about our connection with the natural world and what it means to care for what we’ve taken for granted. Perhaps it should be essential reading for all who hold power over water. They need to be reminded of what they likely already know deep down.

As I finish writing, I take a long drink of water, and I really appreciate it. Is a river alive? Absolutely. And it lives in us all! JH

Children of the Volcano by Ros Belford, September Publishing

Miserable in London after the breakup of her relationship, Ros Belford decides to move with her two daughters to Italy. She knows a better life for them is possible if she is brave enough to make it happen. With very little money but holding tight to her dream, she hopes the decision will bring fulfilment to her own life and shape a childhood that her girls will treasure. The book is an interesting account of what it takes to follow your heart.

Belford is a travel writer and there are beautiful passages that depict the volcanic island of Salina where they settle. Who wouldn’t want to live surrounded by the warm, clear waters of the Tyrrhenian Sea? She also conjures a wonderful cast of characters in the community they become part of and the friends they make.

I enjoyed her reflective passages. In thinking about their new home, she writes, “I wonder how much the land where you were born can affect your mind. If a landscape seems unchanging and unchangeable, like the Yorkshire of my childhood, would it nurture certainty? And likewise, would living in a volatile landscape seed volatility?”

At times, Belford is confronted by the culture of the island: theirs is the first household on Salina to install the internet; she is shocked by corruption around planning laws, which threatens the fragile beauty of the island; and the schooling her children receive is strict and authoritarian. It’s interesting to see how Belford navigates these challenges as ‘an outsider’.

Confidence and conviction are needed to live counterculturally and to seek out a life in a new country. Throughout the book, Belford shares moments of doubt as well as triumph. I was moved by the afterwords from Izzy and Juno, Belford’s children, who, from young adulthood, reflect on their childhood captured by their mother in this book. Izzy was 5 when they went to Italy and Juno 2. It’s interesting the difference a few years in age makes to their experience and a reminder of how far-reaching the impact of our decisions as parents can be, for good or ill. AE

How to Fall in Love with the Future: A Time Traveller’s Guide to the Changing World by Rob Hopkins, Chelsea Green Publishing

This book revolutionises the way we look at the future and is a vital tool for positive climate action. It centres on Hopkins’ time travel exercise, which he believes works best as a daily practice rather than as a one-off. By time travelling to the future and constructing a vivid and sensory ‘memory’ of our time there, we can create a “longing” for it, which drives our actions in the present.

He invites us to be part of “a movement that uses all the different creative tools at our disposal to tell tales of a future so irresistible that it galvanises a new North Star for people to follow”.

Hopkins is a fantastically inspiring writer and I was surprised by the power of this approach in reframing the task ahead. It gave me a new perspective on the future and how we might arrive there. Rather than worrying about what might be possible, time travel relieves you of the burden of uncertainty. It takes away the possibility that your hopes might not be achievable or that your worst fears might play out. The time machine drops you into a future where we have succeeded in turning the tide on climate collapse and the world is beginning to recover.

He discusses the science behind the approach, the importance of storytelling and its precedent for effecting change, the role of the senses, how to unpick our linear understanding of time, and how humans have previously made the impossible possible.

The book brings in other people and movements that are helping to conjure positive visions of the future. He garners insights from activists from across the world whose viewpoints have historically been marginalised but whose visions are essential to imagining a better future. His discussion of the relationship between time and colonialisation is interesting and important.

How to Fall in Love with the Future helps shift negative emotions that can overwhelm us when we think about how to save the future. Tipping points only become visible in hindsight, Hopkins suggests, but the book shows us how we might recognise where we are now “as the beginning of something thrilling rather than as the end of everything”. AE

Hormone Goddess: How to Live in Harmony with Your Cycle by Samantha Hadadi, illustrated by Irina Chaikova, Verbena

I love reading about hormones and cyclical living, so I was keen to take a look at this book. It does not disappoint! It’s clearly set out and accessible for those gaining a first understanding of their hormones and how to embrace their whole menstrual cycle. It starts with an introduction by Hadadi sharing how and why she struggled as a young woman; why education and understanding are so important; how we need to embrace the feminine in wider society; and how learning about our hormones can help. There is a chapter with detailed information about each of the most important hormones in our menstrual cycle and, even though this is detailed, it’s broken up into sections, making it easy to read. The book is also greatly enhanced by Chaikova’s illustrations interspersed throughout the text.

The final section of the book looks at the seasons of the menstrual cycle. It explains what is happening in your body and why you might be feeling as you do, or the symptoms you might be experiencing, and what can help. There are recipes, rituals and ideas for activities. It encourages us to embrace and engage with each season for the positives it can bring.

I feel fortunate that I learned about embracing the seasons of my menstrual cycle years ago through my work with JUNO. I have very much benefitted from flowing with this knowledge, rather than battling against my body and my hormones. This book would very much support someone at the start of this journey and I truly hope that cyclical living becomes the norm, so that all women can enjoy the power of all aspects of their bodies and cycles. SF