This sounds fascinating: Catching Fire: How Cooking Made Us Human by Richard Wrangham, Profile, 309 pp, £15. Some reviews:
"This is a daringly unorthodox book, and one that might just transform the way we understand ourselves," said James McConnachie in The Sunday Times. Richard Wrangham believes that the crucial step of human evolution from ape to man too place not, as is usually thought, when our ancestors mastered hunting or using tools - but when they learnt how to cook. Around 1.9 million years ago, when Homo habilis became Home erectus, we first stood up straight; our guts and mouths shrank and our brains swelled. Wrangham, a Harvard professor of biological anthropology, argues that the best explanation for this remarkable transformation is the discovery of cooking. Cooking gelatinises starch, denatures protein and softens everything. It widens the range of what is edible and improves the calorific value of food. This spared out bodies a lot of hard work - in the form of chewing and digesting raw food - and freed up time and calories, allowing early humans to hunt and to think, another very energy-intensive activity. We became evolutionarily wedded to fire.
"Good, big ideas about evolution are rare," said Simon Ings in The Sunday Telegraph. Often they're no better than 'just so' stories - specious skeins of cause and effect. And here, of course, there isn't much in the way of direct proof. But the big news is that Wrangham succeeds in making a case. He presents a great deal of biological evidence - our tiny mouths and teeth are clearly made for bolting down food softened by fire (chimps, by contrast, spend 6 hours a day chewing). His review of the anthropological literature shows that no one, ancient or modern, settled or nomadic, has ever survived for more than a couple of seasons on an exclusively raw diet; studies of those who live on raw food show that it supplies insufficient energy (half of female 'raw foodies' are so thin they stop menstruating). Humans, says Wrangham, are as adapted to cooked food as cows are to grass.
This is an exhilarating book, says Bee Wilson in The Times, and its central thesis soon seems so obvious that you have to remind yourself how groundbreaking it is: even Darwin didn't recognise the importance of cooking. Catching Fire is a rare things, said The New York Times: a slim book that contains serious science related in direct, no-nonsense prose. It is toothsome, skilfully prepared brain food.
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For history buffs: A Gambling Man: Charles II and The Restoration by Jenny Uglow, Faber & Faber, 580pp, £25
Jenny Uglow's enthralling book opens with Charles II's restoration. In May 1660 he landed at Dover and was greeted in London by cheering crowds, maypoles and bonfires, after the dour years of Cromwell's rule. The book is sensitively observed and richly describes the period without making it too familiar: it is still hard to imagine a scaffold in Whitehall dripping with royal blood, carts laden with corpses of London's poor, or the sails of a Dutch fleet in the Medway - that is, to accept them as reality, and not costume drama. In the past, Uglow has written lives of writers and artists such as George Eliot and the engraver Thomas Bewick. In this case, she writes deftly about a man whose art happened to be his life: being king, playing off his enemies against one another. Like many a good card game, A Gambling Man is intense, involved, absorbing - and a tad too long.