Book Review: Beaverland - How One Weird Rodent Made America

When I studied ecology in school, I was always fascinated by the concept of the keystone species.  The idea is that certain plants and animals have an outsized impact on their environments and the other species around them.  One example which was always held up was North America's largest rodent, the American beaver.  Through virtue of their dams and lodges, beavers drastically alter landscapes, changing environmental conditions for countless other species that share their range.  What I didn't know at the time was that there are keystone species in history as well as ecology.  That is to say, a species can also have an outsized impact on shaping the course of human history, as well as the natural world.

Leila Philip titled her celebration of this special creature Beaverland, and her subtitle, How One Weird Rodent Made America, is hardly an exaggeration.  From the earliest days of European colonization, beavers, and more importantly their luxurious pelts, were one of the most sought after commodities of the continent.  The obsessive drive to find and exploit new beaver populations led to the decimation of indigenous peoples (many First Nations had their own long and storied tradition with the beavers), wars between colonial powers, and the expansion of the nascent American nation from one coast to the other.  The results were devastating for the beavers, which soon found themselves tottering on the edge of extinction.

The loss of beavers was more than the loss of a species.  It was the reshaping of entire ecosystems.  What is so remarkable, however, is that we are able to watch those ecosystems change back in real-time, as beavers gradually recolonize their former haunts, sometimes naturally, sometimes with human assistance.  Of course, we've done a fairly good job of reshaping those habitats ourselves in the absence of beavers, building dams of our own, draining wetlands, and putting cities and streets where previously there was forest and field.  Much of Philip's book is spent documenting the collision course between two species, both major landscape engineers, as they try to share living spaces, with results that are sometimes comedic, sometimes tragic.

Beaverland features interviews and encounters with all sorts of people who interact with the flat-tailed river rats.  Philip tags along with a modern fur trapper as he tends his traps, then follows the furs to auctions (where she is almost tackled after being mistaken for an animal rights activist).  She visits sanctuaries set up to preserve beavers and their habitat.  She works alongside environmental engineers who are working on solutions for how to live alongside beavers in a sustainable manner.  And, from the very beginning, she celebrates the beavers that live on her property at home, enjoying the little glimpses into the wild that their presence offers.

I was slightly miffed not to see any encounters with beavers in zoos.  Then again, zoos seldom do much of a job in highlighting beavers.  The animals are nocturnal, spending much of their day in their lodges, usually emerging later in the day to feed.   I don't think I've ever seen a beaver exhibit that really highlighted the species as much as I think they should, both the ecological and historical/cultural importance being celebrated.  I'm afraid to say, I think a lot of zoo folks think of beavers as somewhat boring - at least, until they actually see one up and about.  

Beavers, you see, are actually pretty massive.  I think most visitors are expecting something the size of a Jack Russell, instead of a big, furry behemoth that they actually encounter when they're lucky enough to see one awake.   And when they are awake, that's when you can get to know them as Philip does - charismatic, personable, charming animals, who have done more than perhaps any other North American animal to shape the face of our country - physically and culturally.

Beaverland: How One Weird Rodent Made America at Amazon.com