Marc Hamer spent 30 years working as a professional molecatcher in Wales (no joke) but as it turns out, he should’ve been writing all that time. This book is a true nonfiction gem – Hamer is poetic, graceful, & profound in his descriptions of catching (and killing) these strange velvety creatures who tear up Welsh fields. More than that, he has an extraordinary eye for observation & a remarkable gift for putting those observations to page in a gorgeous, wondrous way. A quiet, beautiful book and a lovely meditation on the natural world around us & how we all interact. -seth— From Seth's Picks
“Sublimely touching (and with the softest of hands), this book has that balance of warmth and cold that makes for good nature writing. Hamer’s observations demonstrate both a refusal to look away and a tender love for the environment around him. His memoir of a life spent catching moles waxes and wanes, at times gruesome, sensual, violent, and awestruck. This is a book for fans of the way that Mary Oliver lived and talked about her life.”
— Afton Montgomery, Tattered Cover Book Store, Denver, CO
"A small book of many things. In quiet, crystalline prose, it blends memoir, keen observations of nature, and ruminations about life, aging and death."
--Wall Street Journal
At once a highly original memoir and an ode to the outdoors, this unexpected--and delightfully strange--book reveals, at its core, a rare vision of the natural world.
Kneeling in a muddy field, clutching something soft and blue-black, Marc Hamer vows he will stop trapping moles--forever. In this earnest, understated, and sublime work of nonfiction literature, the molecatcher shares what led him to this strange career: from sleeping among hedges as a homeless teen, to toiling on the railway, to weeding windswept gardens in Wales.
Hamer infuses his wanderings with radiant poetry and stark, simple observations on nature's oft-ignored details. He also reveals how to catch a mole--a craft long kept secret by its masters--and burrows into the unusual lives of his muses.
Moles, we learn, are colorblind. Their blood holds unusual amounts of carbon dioxide. Their vast tunnel networks are intricate and deceptive. And, like Hamer, they work alone.