Fans pick 44 books like King Solomon's Ring

Farley Mowat once declared: “I never let facts get in the way of a good story.” I have read Never Cry Wolf as fiction many times, even though its author pretended it was factual. As a writer interested in Canada’s north, Mowat’s universe is an obvious choice for me. The inclusion of Inuit characters is also quite appealing. In this book, a naturalist studies Arctic wolves in a makeshift camp in northern Manitoba and deals with the ridiculous expectations of the bureaucrats who sent him out there to fend for himself. He discovers that contrary to public opinion, wolves are not responsible for the decimation of caribou herds, humans are. Some elements are exaggerated for comic effect, and as one of Canada’s best storytellers, Mowat delivers on laughs. 

I first read this book as a graduate student and it gave me a new appreciation for insects. Heinrich wowed me by describing his discovery of a hot-blooded insect. Bumblebees can increase their body temperatures by shivering and in this way live in our coldest climates. They heat up to fly in search of nectar which they bring back to their nest of developing bees. They even hibernate and survive the winter in cold regions such as Heinrich’s backyard study area in Maine. This book so influenced me that I eventually studied with Heinrich, spending three years in his Maine woods following the lives of ravens with my wife, Colleen.

I was 30 years old - more than 30 years ago - with a high-flying career in the Information Technology industry when I first read this memorable non-fiction book about two young university students who went to study lions in the most remote parts of Botswana, Africa, with nothing much more than a backpack.

I remember chills running down my spine as I read of them sleeping under the stars just metres from wild lions, who had probably never seen a human being before. It was far from an easy life, but more than anything I wanted to know first-hand how that felt.

As a non-scientist it would be even more difficult for me – but after then visiting the African wilderness as a tourist I, too, decided that I wanted to be on the ground, fighting for the welfare of Africa’s endangered wildlife. 

When an elephant family wanders outside the bounds of the Amboseli Reserve in Kenya, an adolescent daughter is shot by poachers. Cynthia Moss has spent decades studying these creatures in the wild and was among the first to document their rituals of mourning and burial so similar to human rites of parting. “They stood around Tina’s carcass, touching it gently with their trunks and feet. Because it was rocky and the ground was wet, there was no loose dirt, but... when they managed to get a little earth up they sprinkled it over the body.” Even more poignant because Moss describes the ceremony in the most scientific terms.  

We often fail to appreciate the most common birds among us. In contrast, Nobel Laureate Niko Tinbergen celebrates the life of a common beach denizen in this classic book. Tinbergen wrote this book in the 1950s based on his detailed observations of the gulls in their natural habitats. As I read, I am taken to the dunes of the Netherlands where Niko spent his life. I can hear the cries of the gulls as they greet their mates, defend their turf, and raise their young. Tinbergen’s life of observing and experimenting is laid before me as he describes the postures and calls that form the gulls’ communication system. I come away from my read knowing a lot about gulls and even more about a brilliant scientist’s mind.

This book changed my world. Jane’s work exploring the behavior and ecology of chimpanzees was simply inspirational when I first read it as a child. I wanted to do what she did—study animals.

It was only when I returned to it that I realized the significance of her ability to tell stories about the animals she met, introducing their characters as well as the data. Additionally, her work went on to break the barriers of personhood. If we accept human exceptionalism—that we are so special because of what we can do—then we need to remember that there are many other species that can do much of what we can—and many other things we can’t. It is good to embrace some humility.

This book tells how three unlikely women–Jane Goodall, Diane Fossey, and Biruté Galdikas–broke scientific ground with their study of the wild chimpanzee, the mountain gorilla, and the orangutan. In every case, a deep emotional involvement with the animals opened the door to insights that male-dominated “objective” methods of research had minimized or overlooked. “Each woman’s first few months in the field were marked by despair, as the study subjects either could not be located or fled at first sight. The women could not make it work–not by extra stealth, not by better equipment, not by new techniques.  One can manipulate an experiment to hasten it, but one cannot force or hurry a revelation.”

Goodall is part scholar and part saint, a scientist seer. When her husband Derek Bryceson died after a protracted battle with cancer, Jane was spiritually bereft. Following a bleak year of grief, she encountered a mystical moment of healing.  “It seemed to me, as I struggled afterward to recall the experience, that self was utterly absent: I and the chimpanzees, the earth and trees and air, seemed to merge, to become one with the spirit power of life itself.” In that window of altered understanding, time slowed. Perception sharpened. Space seemed more spacious. The forest and its wild creatures, she found, had given her the peace that passes understanding.

I love this book, and I want to buy one for every animal lover I know. Chapters feature Temple Grandin’s unique observations of dogs, cats, horses, pigs, chickens, and cattle. Temple Grandin pushes back on popular methods of dog management. Grandin thinks like a scientist and states observable facts.

Most Americans keep one dog. A single dog living in a family compares to a child living with parents. Dogs see their roles as puppies, wanting to please. Dogs watch people’s faces for clues on how they should behave. Dogs’ wild ancestors, wolves, live in small families, never in massive packs. Neither wolves nor dogs display a need for fights over dominance.

I read this book when I was a new mom myself, and I was fascinated to learn how much I had in common with animal parents all over the world. In the process of birthing, feeding, protecting, cleaning, and teaching our offspring, we all face similar challenges and tradeoffs and reap remarkable rewards.

Several stories from this book have stuck with me for years, like the one about breastfeeding bat moms needing to offload their milk into any willing mouth, whether it’s their own baby or someone else’s, just to lighten their load enough to fly!