About book The Big Oyster: History On The Half Shell (2007)
Commerce, consumption and the end of an eraAwhile back, I read The Oyster: The Life and Lore of the Celebrated Bivalve to learn how oysters reproduce. Apparently, I developed a little crush on the bivalves -- not in the gastronomical sense; I’ve never eaten one -- because when I saw The Big Oyster by Mark Kurlanksy in an airport bookstore, I snatched it up. It’s an entirely fascinating account of the evolution of New York from under-populated backwater wilderness to the bustling world capital of today (easy Paris, it’s just one of the many) as seen through the rise and fall of oysters -- both as source of commerce and item of (over)consumption. Kurlanksy also wrote 1968: The Year That Rocked the World, which I liked, and Salt: A World History, which I loved, and it follows a similar pattern, using a quirky single subject to dissect history and bring it to life. In Salt, his scope was global, but in The Big Oyster, it was narrowly focused on New York -- with a few excursions in time (to ancient Greece) and place (London, Paris, etc.). The author has found a style that works for him and does a masterful job of weaving together an oyster-based narrative (how often can you use that qualifier?). I haven’t spent too much time in New York, but even as a casual visitor I got a guilty thrill when a street name suddenly made sense or I recognized some historic figure -- like Dickens -- noshing oysters in a dimly lit oyster house cheek to jowl with rough necks and prostitutes. Ultimately, this book feels like a cautionary tale, tracing the degradation of habitat that ultimately destroyed the oyster beds -- along with a significant line of business -- and changed the eating habits of an entire city. I’m not sure even the best, most long-sighted urban planning could have preserved the pristine waters and farmlands of New York as it grew into a behemoth, filled with millions and spitting toxins and waste into the once clear, bio-diverse waters, but it’s certainly fun to think about. The only criticism I have is the page space spent on historic recipes. It was interesting enough to see the changing writing and cooking styles from the earliest days of America to the present, but once or twice would have been fine. Since the scope was less culinary, I would rather have seen more of the historic details and his unique insights and less about the care and cooking of oysters. That’s just me being greedy though. This is a fast-paced, engaging and rewarding read filled with “oh, that’s why!” moments, so if you like oysters, or New York or history well-done, give this a try.
Much of the charm of this sort of monograph lies in judicious wandering off the main topic and back... and in that regard I have to admit I found Kurlansky rather heavy-handed. He's grimly focused on a single storyline: New York City was built on top of shit-tons of oysters, but a classic tragedy of the commons has left the Big Oyster with nary a namesake to call its own. For light relief, he reprints numerous old oyster recipes -- and you know, there aren't THAT many fundamentally different ways to cook oysters. Bounty, recipe, overharvesting, recipe, pollution, recipe, culminating in oystergeddon... that's pretty much your outline right there.It's a shame because there are so many obviously alluring narrative loops that could have adorned this topic. Just some things I wondered as I was reading:* Turns out that the European oyster of art and literature (Ostrea edulis) and the American/Asian oyster (Crassostrea) are not just different species but different genera. How, why, ker-what? Did they have a recent common ancestor that went extinct, or did they somehow evolve separately? The Atlantic is so much smaller than the Pacific... why does the genus line split there? Lay some science on us, yo!* For many centuries, oysters and fowl were considered a supernal culinary pairing... but it's a taste that seems to have died out except in certain Thanksgiving stuffing recipes. How does a foodway go from the top of the heap to oblivion so quickly?* Why DO different oysters taste so different? Is the taste more affected by variety, or by whatever the piscine version of "terroir" is?* What would it even mean to have a "natural" oyster bed when apparently humans have been oyster farming in all the major areas for over a century, and have consequently imported foreign species all over the world?* Is oysters rockefeller the definitive New York oyster dish? If so, how come it makes no appearance here?The best and most relaxed parts of this book are the sections on oyster harvesting and cultivation. The worst and tensest parts are when Kurlansky gets on some kind of weirdly moralistic "oysters up, cities down" high horse.
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I'm a big Kurlansky fan. He's cornered the market on writing books about modest, single subjects you never imagined you'd give a hoot about (salt, specific types of fish, ugly bivalves...I'm still waiting for a book about toilet paper.) The man made me care deeply about sodium chloride. And I grew up in a region where crab came out of a can and was spelled with a "k" and oysters were a type of mushroom. So I really liked the PROMISE of this book: an obsessive and exhaustive look at my new favorite Baltimore/DC-area snack. And it WAS a good read, a very good read like his books usually are. But I gave it three stars because it was 50% a book about New York. Should maybe have been titled the "Big Oyster, Big Apple". I realize that can hardly be avoided when you're writing about crassostrea virginica (eastern oysters), which blew up in popularity in step with the growth explosion of the eastern seaboard around the turn of the century, but I was a little irritated that I found myself reading so much about NYC at the expense of some of the other great oyster cultivation regions in the world. Belons, anyone?? Nevertheless, a very fine book, please read it and please enjoy some fresh oysters when you have the next opportunity, because your chances of doing so are diminishing yearly.
—Lisa
I started this book completely fascinated, and really did learn a great deal about oysters and the history of New York. Lots of great trivia and fascinating bits that I'm glad to know and that help other bits fall into place in my mind. But about halfway through, the book just starts to discintegrate. This should either have been a much shorter and really great New Yorker article or it needed a good editor to give it some strong organization. It's all over the place and feels a bit like the author pushed it out as fast as he could after pouring over stacks of books at the library. Those lovely index cards full of worthwhile details would have benefited from a bit of thought while pulling them together.
—Liesl Gibson
I decided to try this because I read and liked Kurlansky's Salt, and while The Big Oyster was also good, it suffered a little in comparison.I found reading about the ecological aspect of oysters, and their importance to New Yorkers throughout the ages, very interesting, and I also appreciated getting the story of the changing political and municipal landscape through the years. (The historical recipes are also a great historical curiosity, and some even make me want to try a couple of them.) But I think the book was overlong, maybe because I was hoping for more compelling historical and political connections, and maybe because I found Kurlansky retracing his steps a few times. Still: there were enough interesting tidbits that kept me interested, and Kurlansky's writing style, although sometimes slipping towards the "dry" end of the scale, was generally serviceable at worst and intriguing at best.(And as I read this as an audiobook, I should make a quick mention of the narrator, John H. Mayer. The best way to describe him is workmanlike: not a lot of style and panache, just reading the book with a little enthusiasm and a great deal of clarity. While he didn't help me to enjoy the book, he certainly didn't distract me.)So basically: if you like food books and history books give this a shot. It's not the best I've ever read, but I think it's worth trying.
—Devin Bruce
