‘On the Origin of Sex: The Weird and Wonderful Science of Reproduction’ by Lixing Sun
Birds lay eggs, bees pollinate flowers, and for as long as anyone remembers, humans have been using such examples to introduce their children to the subject of sex, said Elle Hunt in New Scientist. But as any expert in the field would know, “the birds and the bees analogy just doesn’t capture the diversity, drama, and strangeness of animal reproduction.” In Lixing Sun’s “engaging” new book, the Central Washington University biologist shows an “infectious” enthusiasm for detailing the many ways that life on Earth multiplies itself, starting with asexual reproduction as practiced even by some sharks and condors and extending to mallard ducks’ corkscrew vaginas and penises. “But as the title suggests, Sun’s scope is far more ambitious,” taking on such big questions as why sex exists at all. And even when Sun writes as if all his readers know evolutionary biology as well as he does, “the book remains interesting because the many examples of kooky animal sex make it a pacy read.”
Credit recent findings that have upended biologists’ understanding of sex and its history, said Elizabeth Kolbert in The New Yorker. The new body of research “has given rise to a new sort of natural-history book, one so racy that it would have made Charles Darwin raise a bushy eyebrow.” Sun’s contribution to the field opens by reminding us that, because asexual reproduction is more efficient, it’s still not settled what evolutionary purpose sex serves. The theory known as Muller’s ratchet holds that sex counters the buildup of dangerous genetic mutations. The Red Queen hypothesis posits instead that sex helps species stay one step ahead of parasites, and the “wonderfully named” Vicar of Bray hypothesis posits that it helps species adapt quickly to environmental change. “All of these theories have a certain appeal, yet all have been found wanting.”
“Whatever the reason, it is sex that has created the complexity of our world,” said Adam Weymouth in The Times (U.K.). As Sun plays usher, he sometimes anthropomorphizes the sex lives of other creatures, going so far as to speak of single-cell organisms engaging in “flings.” Such playfulness “can end up somewhat trivializing the material,” and where his book “really becomes sticky” is in its attempt to invoke biological imperatives to explain certain human behaviors, including sexual violence. But he does score points when he highlights the fluidity of gender identities and gender roles in the animal kingdom and recommends that we accept, as any pregnant male seahorse might, that there aren’t fixed rules in nature about what it means to be male or female. “The world is complex beyond our comprehension,” and “when it sticks to the science,” The Origin of Sex is “an enlightening study.”
‘You Won’t Get Free of It’ by Rachel Aviv
“Is it only literature that allows us to fully enter strangers’ lives, inhabit conflicting perspectives, and understand the ways we see and fail to see one another?” asked Melanie Thernstrom in The New York Times. The “stunning” title essay in Rachel Aviv’s new book about tangled mother-daughter relationships shows that nonfiction, when done right, can match fiction on those grounds. The piece investigates why the Nobel-winning author Alice Munro chose to stay with her second husband even after she learned that her youngest daughter had been sexually abused by him for years. Aviv, in expanding here upon a 2024 article she published in The New Yorker, “masterfully resists editorializing,” allowing readers to make their own judgments. The piece stands as “the crown jewel” of a “piercing” collection that showcases Aviv’s narrative skills.
Beyond the focus on the mother-daughter dynamic, said Thomas Beller in 4Columns, the book’s seven essays “share a preoccupation with states of dissociation,” as the protagonists are all in states of denial or delusion. The first essay, “I Wish I Were Her for You,” introduces Hannah Upp, a school-teacher who, when she was plucked out of the waters of New York Harbor, couldn’t remember where she’d been for the past three weeks. “Removable Truths” looks at Elizabeth Loftus, a psychologist who during childhood refused to acknowledge that her mother was psychologically unraveling and has since become a specialist in the unreliability of memory, even serving as a defense witness for Harvey Weinstein. Throughout the book, Aviv “moves effortlessly between reporting on events and entering the inner lives of her subjects.”
Aviv says she’s drawn to unstable perspectives, and her storytelling “leans on the idea of unreliable narration,” said Julia M. Klein in the Los Angeles Times. But her time and point-of-view shifts “have a downside,” producing essays that “can feel self-indulgent and overlong.” The approach works in the piece on Upp, as Aviv eventually shifts her attention to Upp’s mother, who, while searching for her missing daughter, connects with other lost women. Otherwise, to me, these stories “aren’t fully satisfying,” though perhaps they’re not meant to be. “As the collection makes clear, Aviv prefers restless questioning to closure.”