Fans pick 100 books like Weeds

“The face that launched a thousand ships,” as Homer would say. Pollan’s witty and well-written treatment of how plants think and act to modulate their environments inspired 21st-century “critical plant studies” in the Anglophone world, including mine.

The book starts you thinking about the thousands of ways plants elbow into your world and how much they matter to your existence on earth, in economic but also spiritual senses. You end up agape in wonder.

I love swamps and streams and rivers (and I’m learning to love the ocean), and I especially love the miniature ecosystems that Kimmerer studies and describes with such gentle care in this book. Sure, everyone’s read Braiding Sweetgrass. (Wait, you haven’t? What are you doing here?! Go! Read!) But have you read the one about moss?

Both books reminded me of why I am drawn to science, of how structured observation and research can illuminate complex and dynamic processes. But I found the science in this one more compelling. It’s a collection of graceful retellings focused on the intricacies of the exact kinds of watery habitats I love best.

This book was life-changing for me. 

David Haskell is a biologist who visits a one-square-meter patch of forest throughout the year and then writes about what he finds there. His writing is gorgeous and evocative—I felt like I was visiting the place with him and observing the non-human life alongside him. At the end of the book, Haskell encourages the reader to try this experiment of observation themselves with whatever natural place is nearby (yards and city parks count!). I did this for a few months myself and discovered my little urban backyard contains a fascinating natural world well worth my time.

The Forest Unseen taught me that ordinary nature is spectacular, and it’s happening all around us. All we need to do is pay attention (though kneeling or lying on the ground also helps). This is a book to be savored.

This book is the most exciting treatment of Columbus’ "discovery" of the Americas because it takes seriously the underlying biology. Now a classic, this was a pioneering study in 1972 that the master environmental historian had a hard time publishing. It is crisply written with hardly a wasted word and teaches you of the wiles of the dandelion, of what travels caught in the fur of dogs or the hooves of horses, and especially in the guts and bloodstream of all organisms as they move from one ecosystem to another.

In the wake of the Covid pandemic, Crosby’s is an important reminder that what moves across space in integrated market systems is not just commodities and that the communities created by trade are also biological communities.

This is a book I read quite recently that reminded me of why I love gardens: because they teach us about ourselves and offer an opportunity to connect to those around us.

In Unearthing, Maclear unpacks a family secret and reconnects with her mother, but she tells the story through plants and gardens. It’s a book that demonstrates how entwined our human lives are with the natural world.

Perhaps not a page-turner, but a deeply engrossing study of how English people grew and foraged for the food that sustained them in the first millennium AD. The great value added here is the reliance on the very latest archaeobotanical data, in other words, on the fossil remains of plants, their seeds, glumes, bits of stems, and their pollens, which archaeologists have begun to salvage from digs and cores, to analyze in labs, and now thanks to McKerracher also to historicize.

The excellent British system of preservation, cataloguing, and online dissemination of archaeobotanical information bears fruit in a book that shows us how complex and sophisticated early medieval farming practices were.

This marvelous account of setting up and running a sheep farm in Hawke’s Bay at the end of the 1800s proves the power of human observation, as well as the amazing literary craft that even average Victorian schooling imparted to its pupils.

Guthrie-Smith meticulously chronicled every tiny change in season and ecology over the course of several years and thus rendered an invaluable description of human impact, specifically capitalistic European impact, on an environment that humans had used more lightly before the advent of European herbivores. His sardonic wit, his keen ecological sensitivity, and his awareness of the big picture into which his small “sheep station” fit separated Tutira from all other English-language accounts of environmental transformation.

While you will learn much about the nature and management of weeds from this book, you will also find yourself painlessly learning the basics of botany-- the parts of plants, how they live, how seeds evolved, how ecosystems evolve. While she keeps weeds at bay, Stein favors a garden, as do I, in which the desirable plants may self-sow a bit. It is a gardening philosophy that is current and can produce lovely, serendipitous gardens. 

Marco Wilkinson writes about his mother who moved from Uruguay to the States, who he knows well, and his father, who he doesn’t. Wilkinson understands his childhood and complicated adulthood as a story intertwined with the plants he’s learned about. In Madder, the narrator details plants’ xylem and their weediness, their Latin names, and their unpredictable growing habits while peeling away the internal systems of his own plant-like self. Wilkinson pairs plant with human to show how growth, thirst, rootedness, and supportive nutrients make for resilient bodies.

Wilkinson takes such care, too, to pull back the weeds and to pull them apart—Thanks to his careful attention to every part of the plant, I can see through the plant as well as inside the workings of the plant. I am physically in the body even though I get that it’s a big metaphor for the mind.

Behind weeds, trees are perhaps the most common plant many kids will encounter in their day to day lives, and another way children can access nature near home and school. And while trees are complex living things at the apex of the plant kingdom, they often are unnoticed and underappreciated. This beautiful lyrical picture book gives children a context to explore what a tree can do through kid-sized comparisons to what children can also do. Use it to help children explore one of the most common features of both urban and rural landscapes: trees.