Christoph Irmscher

Christoph Irmscher reviews a new translation of Uwe Johnson’s massive, masterly year-in-the-life novel, ‘Anniversaries.’

Christoph Irmscher on the strange, lifelong discomfort of the author of ‘Siddhartha’ and ‘Steppenwolf.’

Christoph Irmscher reviews Benjamin Balint’s book on the international legal battle over the fate of Kafka’s manuscripts.

About two-thirds into Laura Dassow Walls’s extraordinary new biography of Henry David Thoreau, she relates an anecdote that tells us more about the man than many a scholarly tome. On one of his many walks in or around Concord, Mass., a passerby accosted him: “Halloo, Thoreau, and don’t you ever…

In the early spring of 1843, John James Audubon, perhaps the greatest naturalist America has ever produced, traveled up the Missouri River. He had embarked on a project that he hoped would rival the success of his Birds of America.

In 1886, the young ornithologist Frank Chapman spent two afternoons wandering through uptown New York City. He had recently given up a career in banking for the sake of collecting bird migration data for the American Ornithological Union. A few years later, Chapman would originate the tradition of…

In 1886, the young ornithologist Frank Chapman spent two afternoons wandering through uptown New York City. He had recently given up a career in banking for the sake of collecting bird migration data for the American Ornithological Union. A few years later, Chapman would originate the tradition of…

In the fall of 1870, Theodore Roosevelt Sr. sat his 12-year-old son down for a conversation that would have condemned a lesser person to a lifetime of depression and despair. He had the right mind for success, his father told him, but not the body to support it: “You must make your body," he said.…

Hailed as the greatest scientist of his time, Alexander von Humboldt (1769-1859) had the tiniest handwriting I have ever seen. One of the most fascinating pages in Andrea Wulf’s new biography shows his lecture notes: a jumble of cards, envelopes, and scraps of paper, stacked on top of each other,…

Where I now live, in Bloomington, Indiana, far from any ocean, my year is punctuated by the departure and return of the Canada geese. As the tasks invented by life in middle age accumulate, the rough cries of those geese in the spring and fall—their “ya-honk” of which Walt Whitman spoke—will have…

In 1856, while hiking through the woods in Borneo, the English naturalist Alfred Russel Wallace saw some movement in the trees. On a quest to hunt great apes, he didn’t waste time. The female orangutan that tumbled out of the tree turned out to be surprisingly hard to kill: Three shots were needed…

The lizard—a dirty, yellowish-orange creature several feet long—had been doggedly working on that shallow hole for quite a while. Alternating its short, lateral legs, it finally managed to get half of its body covered. Charles Darwin couldn’t stand it any longer. Impatiently, the young naturalist,…

For the better part of a week I lugged The Birds of America around with me as I went to campus. Colleagues, students, and strangers looked at me with a mixture of interest and concern as I waddled past them. In the Lilly Library at Indiana University, where I do most of my work, I propped up the…

For years now, I have been showing the gorgeous four volumes of Audubon’s Birds of America to visitors and students at Indiana University’s Lilly Library. Each time, I take pleasure in the sumptuous colors of Audubon’s plates, still luminous after almost two centuries, and the dramatic stories of…