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Fire in Paradise

Long ago, Native American populations in California actually designed wildfires--started fires on purpose. This kept the vegetation under control; a small fire helped to ensure that large fires wouldn't happen down the road.

Also, certain trees seem to be designed to welcome fire; a little fire helps these trees go about their business.

But, over several decades, there was a push to stamp out forest fires. No more fires! The push was mostly successful. But a paradoxical effect is that the kinds of vegetation that really, really aggravate a forest fire are now plentiful. So, if a fire does happen to start, it can spell disaster.

And the climate has changed. Dry wind and intense heat are now a given. And one particularly terrible utility, PG&E -- think of the Tilda Swinton character in "Michael Clayton" -- allows its wires to fall into disrepair, and its vegetation grows unruly, and then horror stories recur.

The town of Paradise basically disappeared a couple of years ago. Over eighty people were killed in a fire; some were caught on camera, burning to death in their cars. A fire performed seemingly impossible feats, jumping over highways and bodies of water. One woman, having just given birth, found herself scooped up and shoved out of the hospital, and she wandered around half-naked, with a catheter still attached to her body, having lost the chance to "wake up" post-contraction.

Donald Trump seemed to blame the fire on Gavin Newsom, and Trump did not mention climate change or PG&E. (Trump's first thought was *not* to express concern for grieving families.)

Trump also forgot the name of the town he was visiting--he repeatedly called it "Pleasure," not "Paradise"--and he needed help from the governor to correct his error. Finally, he praised fire management strategies unique to Finland, with the implication that the States should feel some embarrassment--though the leader of Finland later said he was misquoted and misrepresented, at the least.

It's not inspiring or therapeutic to read this book right now; as another reviewer has observed, the story is like a weird echo of the thing happening in our country in June 2020. It's difficult to put the book down. Small human moments are haunting: One faithful husband learns that his wife's ashes were found "commingled" with the ashes of an unidentified man, so there was the troubling thought that maybe this person was having an affair. Also, one person simply disappeared. Her body was never located. She never reached out to surviving loved ones to say, "I've started a new life in XXXXXX." So painful to consider this.

At least this book--well-written and well-reported--lingers in your thoughts. And it's eye-opening. I recommend it for a day when you're *not* at the beach.
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