This book never fails to surprise me. Just after Weschler
had me convinced that Wilson was just a crazy, but loveable, fanatic of
misinformation, he goes on to confuse me as the reader even further by
suggesting that maybe Wilson’s passions are more than they appear. Wilson
himself is very convinced, with barely any trace of irony, of the truth behind
all of his exhibits in his museum. This is apparent in the dialogue presented
between Weschler and Wilson. After talking with Tom Eisner, a biologist at Cornell,
however, the author is astounded to find out that the story of the ant and the
spores is actually based off of other real types of ants that this phenomena
actually happens to. Even more, Eisner is entertained by these stories from
Wilson’s museum, and tells a fantastic story himself about naturalist
Spallanzani and his preserved body parts. This led me to wonder the true
purpose behind the information presented. Are we to be entertained and
astounded, or critical and automatically debunk ideas we believe too
fantastical to be real? The next section proves that Wilson isn’t the only one
with a large imagination. All these sources seem amusing, but I was confused
behind the purpose that they serve. These cultures don’t exist, but the amount
of “research” and detail behind them is incredible. The child-like wonder with
which these worlds were created adds something to the narrative that research
takes away.
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