The Human, the Orchid, and the Octopus

Jacques Cousteau was a legendary adventurer--and an environmental activist. In his memoir, Cousteau, a firm proponent of the planet's rights long before Al Gore came along, runs the gamut from expressing concern to indulging in a raging polemic, never sparing the world's governments in the process. The material gives the book a heavy-handed tone, which is echoed by Stephen Hoye's theatrical reading. His delivery is as clipped as the sails of Cousteau's beloved CALYPSO. Hoye doesn't attempt to evoke Cousteau's distinctly French parlance, but where he does match Cousteau is in his sanctimonious quality, which reinforces the text's strident tendencies. J.S.H. (c) AudioFile 2008, Portland, Maine

Starred review from August 6, 2007
Written by renowned ocean explorer Cousteau in the 10 years before his death, this book strikes a note of caution as it celebrates the natural world: as the seas are plundered, the biosphere is polluted and the hazards of nuclear power are imposed upon nature, the human race is “unraveling complexities it took eternity to create.” As a scientist and an explorer, Cousteau laments the government's use of science as a handmaiden to profit, reproaching technocrats and military and industrial leaders who, in pursuit of power and money, make decisions and leave the rest of the world, and its ecosystems, to live with their mistakes. An informative introduction and epilogue by Schiefelbein, a former editor at the Saturday Review
, updates this account with developments since Cousteau's death, including the continuing depletion of the oceans and the persistent shift of funds from scientific research to economic “priorities.” Cousteau's reverence for life's miracles—embodied by the evolutionary wonders of the human, the orchid and the octopus—shines through in this eloquent testimony on the importance of pursuing higher ideals, particularly the preservation of the oceans and the natural world for future generations.