Why We Swim
4.5 4.5 out of 5 stars | 1,448 ratings
Price: 23.88
Last update: 11-13-2024
About this item
Humans, unlike other animals that are drawn to water, are not natural-born swimmers. We must be taught. Our evolutionary ancestors learned for survival; now in the 21st century, we swim in freezing Arctic waters and piranha-infested rivers to test our limits. Swimming is an introspective and silent sport in a chaotic and noisy age; it’s therapeutic for both the mind and body; and it's an adventurous way to get from point A to point B. It's also one route to that elusive, ecstatic state of flow. These reasons, among many others, make swimming one of the most popular activities in the world.
Why We Swim is propelled by stories of Olympic champions, a Baghdad swim club that meets in Saddam Hussein's palace pool, modern-day Japanese samurai swimmers, and even an Icelandic fisherman who improbably survives a wintry six-hour swim after a shipwreck. New York Times contributor Bonnie Tsui, a swimmer herself, dives into the deep, from the San Francisco Bay to the South China Sea, investigating what it is about water - despite its dangers - that seduces us, tempting us to come back to it again and again.
Top reviews from the United States
I appreciated the fact that this book was not presented as a story about a champion swimmer but clearly a very good one who was not reluctant to share the doubts that swimmers experience.
This was a very good read, ironically when pools are closed because of COVID-19. It makes swimmers long for the post swim feelings that the author expresses.
She also describes the mental states and benefits of swimming, where you can be both locked into the present moment and slip outside of standard clock time. An enjoyable, informative read for those who swim and those want to know more about the enduring human impulse to return to the substance from whence we sprang.
I didn’t understand some of the negative reviews as someone said the author is self centered as she describes her personal history in diving for abalone. I’m guessing that person must not have read beyond the first chapter. The author starts out by telling her personal connection to swimming, and goes on to tell the stories of many other swimmers, including interviews and related history, situations, and culture.
This is now a favorite book in my collection and one I expect to pick up and read again.
First, in terms of readability, I found "Why We Swim" to be poorly organized. In a chapter that began with relating stories of an American soldier in Iraq swimming in a palace pool, there are sections that discuss swimming teams in England in the early 19th century, international drowning statistics, and the experience of a kid in Madagascar learning to swim. Taken as a whole, the book struck me as a collection of paragraphs tossed together with very tenuous connections.
The biggest strike against the book in at the beginning of Chpt 8, when Ms. Tsui says, "Throughout the Progressive Era, swimming pools were places where blacks, whites, and immigrants swam together, regardless of race, in the interest of hygience, writes the historian Jeff Wiltse..." This is just wrong. I didn't read Mr. Wiltse's book, but it's not just wrong, but seriously, factually incorrect and misleading, just one example being the deadliest race riot in Chicago's history happened in the summer of 1919, when a Black teenager mistakenly crossed an 'aqua border' of a Chicago beach and was stoned and drowned by whites infuriated by the innocent transgression. If anyone thinks that Blacks and whites were swimming together in pools in, say, Macon, Georgia, or, say, Cleveland, Ohio, I encourage them to read Isabell Wilkerson's "The Warmth of Other Suns" (winner of the National Book Critics Circle Award among others too numerous to list) for a stunning account of Jim Crow laws, the Great Migration, and the receptions received north of the Mason Dixon Line.
I didn't care at all for Ms. Tsui's slobbering over "Nihon eiho."
Finally, and just a small bone to pick, but it was depressing to read that Ms. Tsui cannot read the language of her parents, and I say this as a white American who has diligently studied Chinese for the past quarter of a century. I wish that Ms. Tsui would spend an equal amount of time and effort learning characters as she does swimming.