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England- A Natural History by John Lewis-Stempel review – unhappy valley

What motivates a nature writer to delve into the rich landscapes of England, and what do they leave behind in the process? This intriguing question captivates both writers and readers alike. For some, the mission involves mending the fractured relationship between humanity and nature; for others, it’s simply about bearing witness to a planet in peril. As the appeal of nature writing continues to rise, particularly in sales, publishers might contend that a nature writer’s primary task is quite clear: to write.

John Lewis-Stempel exemplifies this idea beautifully. With a remarkable collection of around 17 books dedicated to various aspects of the natural world—including titles such as *The Running Hare* and *The Soaring Life of the Lark*—he has achieved the Wainwright Prize for nature writing twice. This is particularly impressive considering writing isn’t his main profession. Lewis-Stempel divides his time between his farm in Herefordshire and a garden in southwest France, often jotting down ideas for his books on scraps of paper while immersed in farm chores.

The inspiration for his latest work, *England: A Natural History*, struck him as he waited for a ferry at Dover. Flipping through the back pages of his pre-Brexit passport, he was drawn to the illustrations of quintessentially British landscapes beyond his usual farming environment—moors, lakes, parks, and coastlines. In that instant, he recognized a yearning to connect with these settings on a deeper level, not just as an observer but as an integral part of the landscapes.

So how does Lewis-Stempel—a man sometimes labeled as “unnatural” within the broader context of nature—cultivate a genuine connection to different ecosystems? His method is refreshingly straightforward: he has “wandered” through these habitats, documenting his experiences with heightened awareness and without prejudice.

On this expansive journey through England, Lewis-Stempel proves to be both engaging and descriptive, especially when it comes to recounting scents—from the “baked apple attar of pig poo” to the “pissy smell” of a pipistrelle hibernaculum. His depth of knowledge is striking, evidenced by his insight into everything from orchids to avocets. However, the heavy reliance on factual details in *England: A Natural History* can sometimes detract from the very beauty he seeks to honor, with quirky commentary occasionally interrupting the narrative flow.

Lewis-Stempel envisions a quintessentially English habitat reflected in his own surroundings: charming Shetland ponies, tidy allotments, and church steeples tucked into valleys. Yet, his perspective often overlooks broader realities. For instance, while passing through Slough, he recalls Betjeman’s remarks about “friendly bombs” and expresses concern over new housing developments encroaching on the English countryside.

Interestingly, Lewis-Stempel posits that the finest nature writers are no longer with us. His literary idols include figures such as Rev. Gilbert White and John Clare, whose works are infused with vitality and curiosity. In contrast, when Lewis-Stempel visits Richmond Park, he finds himself somewhat irritated by the presence of parakeets, opting instead to read another book and daydream about the life of an oak tree—an exercise that, while enjoyable, raises questions about purpose and engagement.

Given that England’s natural environment is under considerable threat, with a staggering 19% decline in native species since 1970, these crucial questions remain largely unaddressed in his narrative. Lewis-Stempel seems content tending to his own splendid valley, glass of Pimm’s in hand, gazing at the unique landscapes around him. So, we return to the fundamental question: what is the true responsibility of a nature writer? It extends far beyond mere observation and passive appreciation—it requires an earnest pursuit of deeper inquiry and advocacy.