The Secret Life of Fungi, by Aliya Whiteley

This handsome little hardback is an arresting read. The strange, tactile quality of Aliya Whiteley's fiction has long entranced me (see posts on Skyward Inn and The Loosening Skin) and this non-fiction collection is just as oddly, unsettlingly captivating. It's like venturing into the woods with her, to catch a glimpse of something ancient, earthy and alive. An MR James story but real.

"Collection" may not be the right word for what this is; it's a series of often short chapters exploring different aspects of the physicality and science of fungi, and the ways this is woven into culture and literature as well as the life of the author. There's stuff on what it's like to encounter different fungi in the wild, in the UK and abroad. We cover disease, whether St Anthony's Fire or the fungal infections most likely to affect someone with HIV; we cover cures such as penicillin and LSD-related therapies. There's time for monstrous fungus in fantasy and sci-fi (such as Whiteley's own works, Tade Thompson's Rosewater, John Wyndham's Trouble with Lichen and many others). There's stuff on mushrooms as food and as poison.

These tangible, evocative threads are connected, making up a mycelial network of their own. At one point, Whiteley explains that the mycelial networks of fungi might be best thought of as single bodies, vast and intricate, living half-submerged in the soil. It's this kind of thing that makes the book such fertile ground,  all so rich and potent that I kept thinking "This would make the start of a good story..."

One chapter explores fungi as "Saviours" for our real-world problems. Penicillium notatum is the best-known example, discovered in 1928 to kill the bacteria in a series of Petri dishes while Alexander Fleming wasn't looking; over many subsequent years (Whiteley is good at underlining the effort involved), it was then developed into the first antibiotic. A related fungus, Penicillium citrinum, has an effect on cholesterol and led Akira Endo to develop statins, now one of the most commonly taken drugs in the world.

I was particularly taken by examples that may change and shape our future. In 2017, Aspergillus tubingensis was found to be "feeding on polyurethane on a rubbish site at Isamabad" (p. 36). Pestalotiopsis microspora has been identified in the Amazon rainforest doing something similar and may be able to do so without air.

"It could survive deep in the darkness of landfill and steadily work its way through many kinds of plastic, if initial hypotheses turn out to be accurate." (p. 37)

A later chapter, "Stowaways of the Space Age", explores the bacteria and fungal growths identified on spacecraft, the risks they pose to systems and ways they may be affected by exposure to space and radiation. And then there's this, which I dreamt about last night:

"NASA has been investigating the possibility of using mycelia to create living shelters on Mars using melanin-rich fungi to absorb radiation and protect the human inhabitants within. ... They could be constructed, effectively grown, on location, making them easier to transport. They also offer the proposal of easy, organic disposal after use, putting little strain on the alien environment." (p. 121)

It's literally describing alien life and yet that quality of strangeness is something we'd take with us from here. It's all around us, if we'll only look and see.