I think I’ve mentioned that I grew up in Florida. You might not expect a young reader to care particularly about the Floridian environment. But the Sunshine State is home to an extensive literature full of love for Florida, its wilderness, and its people. I bit my teeth on Carl Hiaasen’s Hoot and Flush, loved The Missing ‘Gator of Gumbo Limbo. My teachers assigned me The Talking Earth and The Yearling, reminding me to appreciate the wilderness as it was and as it could be. And as I graduated to adult novels, Dave Barry and Carl Hiassen highlighted the hilarious and human in their stories.

Throughout these stories, there are a few consistent threads. There’s the wilderness: these authors capture the wild beauty of Florida, and the Everglades in particular. There’s the diversity, which leads to fascinating interactions (and lots of room for mystery). The best of these stories highlight the humanity and sadness in characters outsiders might deride as “weird”. Capturing this takes a Floridian – all of the authors of the best Florida stories lived in and loved the state.

As an adult reader, I’ve fallen a bit out of touch with those Florida roots. But I found all the memories of my favorite Florida stories rushing back as I read through Gator Country, a recent release by Rebecca Renner. The book dives into alligator poaching, detailing a sting operation by Florida Fish and Wildlife. At the same time, Renner learns more about poachers themselves – the myths and the reality. The two sides of the story paint a complex picture of the economic realities of the Florida Wild – and create a Great New Florida Story.

The Floridian Wilderness…

Renner lavishes the same love on her setting as countless Floridian writers before her. Gator Country follows protagonist Jeff Babuata, an FWC officer who goes undercover as an alligator farmer. Jeff loves the Florida landscape, and Renner goes to great pains to share that beauty with the reader. As she details the vibrant flora on each drive and airboat ride, it’s hard not to fall in love with all that Florida nature has to offer. The story itself covers a variety of settings, and it’s amazing to see writing that covers the many landscapes and environments the Everglades has to offer. (Most think of the Everglades as a swamp, or a sea of sawgrass. But there are diverse landscapes in the region, from the hardwood hammocks to the mangrove forests, and Renner perfectly captures each.)

Renner also writes her protagonists to reflect this love of and awe for the wild. Jeff, of course, loves the land and all its creatures. Many of the poachers, too, observe the land closely and care for it deeply. (After all, only deep understanding of the ecosystem allows them to so successfully capture its denizens.) But even those poachers who view the wild as a resource seem to respect it. As in so many of the best Florida books, these characters treat the Everglades like a complex, vast ecosystem, someplace to be respected.

…and the Florida Wild Ones

Renner writes that same complexity into many of her characters. Gator Country tells two parallel stories – that of Operation Alligator Thief, the sting led by Jeff Babuata, and that of legendary poacher Peg Brown and his descendants. While the stories may initially seem opposed, Renner brings out the nuances and similarities between the two “sides”. Jeff is Good, sometimes even at the expense of the letter of the law – he sees the humanity even in poachers, and hopes to spark their redemption. And Peg Brown recognizes the humanity in the park rangers who hope to stop him, avoiding shootouts and even helping them establish the park.

Renner contrasts Jeff and Peg, who fundamentally focus on balancing human needs with natural systems, with more ruthless poachers. These alligator farmers take advantage of their natural environment, and those around them. Their over-harvesting puts the ecosystem of the Everglades at risk, simply to supply eggs and hides to out-of-state and overseas buyers. They may live off the land, even respect it, but it’s just a resource to mine.

Yet even here, Renner shows her subjects sympathy. Rather than simply wag her finger at these poachers, she highlights the complex economic path leading to this state of affairs. From the influx of land developers to the establishment of a protected National Park, Renner covers the changes that drove established Floridians to a life of crime. And she continues her coverage to the present day, laying out the trail between natural disasters and illegal gator demand.

From a Floridian at heart

This nuance comes from a place of understanding: Renner’s own family goes back generations in Central Florida. She admits that her story even overlaps with some of the poachers; these cultural commonalities allow her to get even closer to Brown’s living family. She describes the setting with specifics; these are places she’s been and seen and experienced. Her love for the landscape and its people shines through in every sentence.

This love connects Gator Country to the canon of Great Florida Books, and Great Everglades ones. The best Florida stories know Florida for more than sandy beaches, club, and bath salts. They highlight and explore the complexity of human life in the state – the waves of immigration and competing economic interests. They portray and explore the constant evolution of the state, even while mourning the stories that got left behind. And they recognize the unique role that nature plays in these stories. The Everglades are beautiful and peaceful, a sanctuary and a haven; they’re also a place to hide and steal, a place where no rules apply.

Renner’s writing does all of that and more. Reading Gator Country took me back to summer hikes through Pine Island; to my history and environmental science lectures in school; to hours spent perfecting a pastel drawing of a spatterdock in the water. It reminded me of how much deeper Florida goes than beaches, and how it taught even this dedicated indoor reader to love nature. And it told a great crime story – two, really – while reminding me why humans can have such a vast and unexpected impact on the natural world. I may not read a lot of nonfiction – but when I do, this is the stuff I want to read.

This made me hurry for more Florida Stories – maybe time to read some more? Until next time – stay cozy, and stay curious!

*This will count for my 52 Book Club Challenge as having “a cover without people on it”!