Peter Laufer

Laufer’s engaging, empathetic writing draws readers into the struggle these uncharismatic descendants from deep time are facing with humans. Asian countries are desperate to eat them for gustatory sensations, or to render their parts into dubious folk remedies, carve their shells into trinkets, or possess them as pets. North American desire chelonians as unique pets; cute when small, but difficult to care for when reaching full size maturity. Laufer’s sense of humour keeps the mood cheerful despite darker passages. It was a compelling read, and makes me want to read more of Laufer’s books.… (més)

Peter Laufer is a journalist who has written a lot about war and other deeply depressing topics, and one day he concluded a real downer of a talk about his work with a joke: "That's why my next book is going to be about butterflies and flowers." Afterwards, an audience member wrote and invited him to her butterfly farm in Nicaragua. And thus, without quite intending to, he ended up writing a book about butterflies, after all. Except that it turns out that even butterflies aren't an entirely happy topic, and he ended up writing about butterflies whose habitats are shrinking or are located in troubled countries, the world of endangered butterfly smuggling, and bitter disputes between butterfly enthusiasts with a look-but-don't-touch approach and those willing to stick pins in them.

It's a great origin story for a book, and, although I don't have any special interest in butterflies, I often enjoy this kind of book, where an author digs deep into the unfamiliar aspects of a familiar subject. But while this one was reasonably interesting, for some reason it never really gripped me all that much. I'm not sure if it's that Laufer's writing, while perfectly decent, lacks zing, or whether I just wasn't in quite the right mood for it, or what. I also find the lack of a photo section regrettable, as it would have been nice to have pictures of the butterflies he's describing.… (més)