How to see the world
On Looking: Eleven Walks with Expert Eyes - book review
The premise of the book is simple. The author goes for walks around the streets near her home in Manhattan in the company of people who point out unexpected things to her. They include an entomologist, a font designer, a geologist, an urban planner, an artist, a blind person, a sound recordist, a toddler and a dog. In the process, she not only learns a lot about her city, but learns to see things in new ways.
When I started to write this post, it was destined for my other substack, Unhack Your Brain. After all, it's written by a psychologist, it discusses the neuroscience of perception, and it's basically about mindfulness - learning to notice the world around you that you normally take for granted, and how much there is to see, hear, and smell) if you just take the time to look.
But then I realized that I actually wanted to review it in the context of writing. After all, what is it that an author does, if not to show people the world through other people's eyes? We think we know the world, but we're only seeing it from one perspective - our own. When we read, we get to see it from someone else's point of view, through the filter of their expertise, their experiences, their prejudices, their desires, and their culture.
I don't live in a city, but I found myself trying to use this as a way to develop my own awareness on my (almost-daily) walks in the woods behind my house. I usually take a simple one-mile loop that goes behind the school, along a track to a stream, and then back along the snowmobile trail: I've done it hundreds of times over the last few years, and I know it well. Or at least, I think I do. But then again, maybe I don’t.
Here’s a simple example. I love spotting and photographing mushrooms. I have no idea what most of them are: they’re just pretty, But when I go for a walk with my neighbor, who’s lived here pretty much his entire life, he can immediately tell me which are good to eat and which will make you sick. (And which ones you shouldn’t even touch, let alone eat.) We’re seeing the same thing, but he’s seeing them in a different way.
So I began to ask myself, what might I see if I were someone else? (I use that word advisedly - the blind person, when challenged on her use of the word "see" replies that there are many ways of seeing.)
A soldier: where are the places to ambush someone? Where might a threat come from? How can you defend an area? That broken-down wall is a perfect place to lie in wait, with great lines of sight along the path. Mines or explosives on that bridge would make a great trap. Piles of fallen leaves and branches are ideal for camouflage.In winter, the bare trees provide less cover than they do in the summer and fall.
A hunter: what animal signs can you see? Are there tracks, droppings, or marks on trees? What can you hear? Where are you likely to find different types of animals, and how does that vary by time of day or season? Where would be a good place to set up a hide? Is the ground covered in dried leaves and branches that will make noise as you move?
Someone on the run: where could you hide? Could you make a fire to cook food or warm yourself? Is there anything around to make a shelter? Is there anything to (safely) eat or drink? Where might cops or hunters come from? Is there a way to escape?
A forest ranger or guide: an obvious one. How healthy is the eco-system? What signs of growth or decay can you see? Are there invasive species?
A farmer: this is actually my favorite one. From the early 1800s until just after the Second World War, this whole area was covered in apple orchards and pastures. For some reason, they're mostly all gone, and the forest has reclaimed the fields, but you can still see traces of farmland, old stone walls, wells, and so on. What would a farmer see that I don't? How would they view the soil, or the potential for crops or livestock? Could the farms be restored?
A property developer: I don’t like thinking about this one, but there are people who see the woods as a resource to be exploited or a business opportunity. Cut it all down and sell the wood. Mine the rock for gravel. Build homes or businesses. Fifty years ago, after the farms went, logging was a main industry here. And then they built houses in the woods - including mine.
A local historian: much as above, but instead of looking to the future, they're looking at the past. What happened here, and what was its significance? Who lived here, and what was their life like?
A native American: their relationship to the land is unique. It's part of their ancestry. Places that are just places to me may have deep spiritual or tribal significance. And, of course, they're always very conscious of how people like me have changed their world.
An immigrant: imagine you've come here from somewhere with a completely different climate. Everything is different. The trees, the ferns, the fungi, the animals, the birds, the sounds, the smells, the temperature... you're experiencing everything for the first time. But it's not like a child, who is trying to make sense of the world: you already have a framework for your world, but none of it applies. It's magical and scary at the same time: you don't know what's dangerous, but you can't help being struck by the wonder of it.
A time traveler: what's changed? If you were that farmer from the 1800s, what would you feel to see your fields overgrown? If you're from the future, what would you think of the present day? Maybe you're scared because you've never experienced nature. Maybe you're appalled by the pollution and the environmental damage. Maybe you're astonished that there are so few people around - or so many.
When we're writing characters, it's all too easy to focus on what they do, what they think, and what they say. But to really get inside their heads, you have to ask yourself - what do they see?
I highly recommend the book. It’s fascinating, and it’ll make you very aware of the limitations of your perception. And then go for a walk in someone else’s shoes and try to see what they see. Better still, go for a walk with someone completely unlike you and ask them what they see.