海角大神

At the beginning of her utterly captivating book 鈥淔ox & I: An Uncommon Friendship,鈥� Catherine Raven is talking with a scientist acquaintance about a wild fox that has taken to visiting her at her remote cabin on a regular basis. The acquaintance tells her, with the gentle condescension that female naturalists have been hearing from men for well over two centuries, that her fox experience is just fine 鈥渁s long as you鈥檙e not anthropomorphizing.鈥�

Raven, a former park ranger and experienced teacher of natural history, is well aware of the stigma associated with imparting human traits to wild animals. 鈥淵ou don鈥檛 need much imagination to see that society has bulldozed a gorge between humans and wild, unboxed animals,鈥� she writes, 鈥渁nd it鈥檚 far too wide and deep for anyone who isn鈥檛 foolhardy to risk the crossing.鈥澛�

In 鈥淔ox & I,鈥� Raven risks that crossing. The resulting book is beautiful and wise without ever being sappy or manipulative.聽

Soon after sequestering herself out in the Montana wilderness (teaching classes online, but otherwise keeping a wide distance from her nearest human neighbors), Raven realizes that the fox is arriving at the same time every day. He seems more curious than cautious. 鈥淗e thrust his face at me,鈥� Raven notes at one of their first meetings. 鈥淎 normal fox would have run away when the door opened. His boldness suggested that I was in his territory, instead of the other way around.鈥澛�

They come to know each other, and it鈥檚 impossible to avoid concluding that they also come to like each other. Raven hauls a chair outside and reads in Fox鈥檚 company; he pretends to sleep only a few feet from her and stores his fresh kills on her doorstep for safekeeping before bringing them home to his den. In the best tradition of popular natural history writing, readers learn a good deal about wild foxes as they鈥檙e learning about this particular fox.聽

Raven is a natural teacher and an easy, digressive storyteller. The seasons, the wildflowers, the rhythms of the natural world fill these pages and pull the reader in. She mentions at one point, for instance, that her default hiking gaze is permanently set at 1 meter (3 feet) above the ground 鈥� bear height 鈥� because she鈥檚 had encounters with bears and doesn鈥檛 want to repeat the experience. 鈥淚f you cannot spot a bear within thirty meters,鈥� she writes, 鈥渘either your running ability nor the sidearm in your shoulder holster will save you from injury.鈥� 聽

But Fox is the star of the show, and there鈥檚 nothing more important聽to Raven than his wildness. Although he grows more comfortable over time, he鈥檚 never anything but self-possessed. When a student muses about how close Raven is to Fox (鈥淚 was sure you were going to call the little fellow 鈥楩oxie鈥欌��), it already feels odd to the reader. 鈥淔oxie? As if he were a pet,鈥� Raven thinks. 鈥淎s if hanging around a fox was tantamount to decorating a terrier in tartans or teaching a parrot to solicit crackers.鈥澛�

It鈥檚 the essential strangeness of Fox that makes him so compelling. He chases prey and is chased as prey; he dens and raises kits. And yet he seems to enjoy her company, and she finds herself asking human-sounding questions: 鈥淒id he have a personality? Did he care about me? Had he wanted to be my friend?鈥澛�

Fox鈥檚 exit from the narrative (the one stark caution of natural history books like this one is that the exit is preordained) is as unfathomable as his arrival. This, too, evokes no sentimentality in Raven. She will go on 鈥� the book ends with plans for the future 鈥� but there will now be the before and after. As Raven puts it, the time before was 鈥渋mpoverished by foxlessness.鈥澛�

Finishing this book, readers will feel the same. And they鈥檒l be happy to have made his acquaintance.