I read this book once, called Your Inner Fish. It was about a scientist who became obsessed with finding a 375 million year old fossil of a fish he reckoned we all came from. It was halfway between the journey from speck of dust to chest-thumping monkey, and it was a fish with a neck, and the beginnings of a wrists. It was the fish that made it out of the confusion of the water, and into the vast unknown of the world. And without that fish, that world would always remain unknown. We’d have no world. No things to do or places to be. No girls in cabs, no Percy Passage, no straight, no gay, no soup of the day, no nothing. This man, he ended up in the Canadian Arctic, with a bunch of other scientists, all also looking for the same fossils, and he spent weeks following them about, despairing every time they spotted one and he didn’t. What did other people have hrs he didn’t? What was missing?
Honestly doing it like this is making the book a more interesting read for me. =)