Being a Human is a hard book to review because it’s so downright unusual. Author Charles Foster (whose CV includes veterinarian, barrister and taxidermist) loosely structures the book into three sections, according to three periods of human existence: the Upper Paleolithic (the time when we were most like ourselves, according to Foster), the Neolithic (when it all went wrong) and the Enlightenment (when all that was wrong became even further entrenched). Outside of that structure, it’s all very loose.
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In the Upper Palaeolithic section, by far the longest of the book, Foster records his attempts to live like a Paleolithic man. With his son in a Derbyshire wood, he eats roadkill, sleeps by a fire and undergoes intense periods of fasting (his son carries on eating). All the while, he muses on human nature, on non-human nature and on the deep connection he says the Paleolithic people must have had with the world around them. The next two sections are more conventional, in that Foster tackles a range of theories about human consciousness, all the while making the point that we have strayed so very far from our natural state.
Parts of this book were highly convincing. Others were not. I wholeheartedly agree with Foster’s theory that we have lost connection with nature – with disastrous results. I am less convinced that the Upper Paleolithic people were as holy about nature as he assumes (and given the limited evidence we have, it is an assumption). He glosses over the fact that Paleolithic humans largely wiped out the megafauna of the Pleistocene rather too quickly, for example, putting it down to an accident or miscalculation. Nor am I convinced by the constant assertion that out of body experiences, or shamanic ritual, are key aspects of ‘being a human’, given how much they seem to rely on taking drugs in a wood, or almost dying.
And yet, that said, there was much to enjoy and even be inspired by in Foster’s wacky worldview. Anyone entirely content with the modern world, their feet placed firmly on the concrete, will not enjoy this book; they might even hate it. But for anyone who suspects there’s a hunter-gatherer lurking inside, give it a go, and keep an open mind.
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