A Paradise Built in Hell: The Extraordinary Communities That Arise in Disaster by Rebecca Solnit

A Paradise Built in Hell: The Extraordinary Communities That Arise in Disaster Reviews

• 
  Michael

  An expansive work of cultural history, A Paradise Built in Hell triumphs the empathy of civil society in the wake of disaster. Across five extensively researched sections, Solnit surveys local and state reactions to the world’s major disasters since the dawn of the twentieth century, from the 1906 San Francisco earthquake to the 1985 Mexico City earthquake. The book’s thesis is lucid: across cultures most residents of places resourcefully react to disaster, aspiring to help out their neighbors, even as institutional authorities, the wealthy, and the media panic, frame the masses as a savage mob, and unleash brutal force on the citizenry in an attempt to reestablish the unjust status quo. Contrary to the elite’s racist and classist claims, the author contends, most people are not just capable of effectively governing themselves but deeply desire the kind of dignified work and strong sense of solidarity that arise following an unanticipated disaster. Solnit regrettably doesn’t focus on South Asia’s recent tsunamis, or much consider how climate change soon will lead to a perpetual state of disaster across the world, but her points are well thought out and difficult to dispute.
• 
  Riku Sayuj

  
  What is the moral equivalent of war?
  
  Solnit’s book is in many ways an extended argument (with examples) on William James’ essay on his famous question: “What is the moral equivalent of war?” - Based on the premise that war is an ennobling bringing-together of humans and that the experience is uplifting and necessary and an equivalent would be a wonderful thing to find.
  
  Everyone from Hobbes to Hollywood filmmakers has assumed and showcased that when disaster strikes, society crumbles. They show this “Law of the Jungle” as pure and dangerous chaos. Solnit wants to show that what in fact takes place is another kind of anarchy, where the citizenry by and large organize and care for themselves and rises above the disaster.
  
  News Media (to most the only media that exists) loves spectacle and spectacle is gore - they highlight the worst stories and that is what you remember. That is why this book is important. Because Beliefs matter.
  
  Especially when we move into an age where disasters are going to be more and more a part of our lives, it is important to learn to maintain continuity and a sense of societal organization through such periods.
  
  Solnit tells numerous stories to illustrate that in the wake of an earthquake, a bombing, or a major storm, most people are altruistic, urgently engaged in caring for themselves and those around them, strangers and neighbors as well as friends and loved ones. The image of the selfish, panicky, or regressively savage human being in times of disaster has little truth to it Solnit asserts.
  
  But belief lags behind, and often the worst behavior in the wake of a calamity is on the part of those who believe that others will behave savagely and that they themselves are taking defensive measures against barbarism.
  
  This is the power of self-fulfilling prophesies - any belief that is acted on makes the world in its image. Beliefs matter. And so do the facts behind them. The astonishing gap between common beliefs and actualities about disaster behavior limits the possibilities, and changing beliefs could fundamentally change much more.
  
  Of course it is dangerous to subscribe fully to this optimism and the case can easily be made that Solnit got carried away in this book. Her descriptions of disasters are so ennobling it begins to test the limits of belief.
  
  Then Solnit starts talking of how disaster is almost nostalgic to its survivors:
  
  ...It reminded me of how many of us in the San Francisco Bay Area had loved the Loma Prieta earthquake that took place three weeks before the Berlin Wall fell in 1989. Or loved not the earthquake but the way communities had responded to it.
  
  Especially when you hear phrases like “enjoying immensely the disaster...”, it is natural to feel skeptical but we also have to keep in mind that this might only be a limitation of language:
  
  ...if enjoyment is the right word for that sense of immersion in the moment and solidarity with others caused by the rupture in everyday life, an emotion graver than happiness but deeply positive. We don’t even have a language for this emotion, in which the wonderful comes wrapped in the terrible, joy in sorrow, courage in fear. We cannot welcome disaster, but we can value the responses, both practical and psychological.
  
  In addition, a few major drawbacks too have to be pointed out:
  
  1. By and large Solnit avoids turning her gaze to the disasters in the developing world where chances of solidarity might (or might not be) be less. I am not implying that the people would be less noble, but with less infrastructure and with total anarchy, it might disappear. The study is not complete without exploring that aspect.
  
  2. Solnit paints a particularly dangerous picture of the administration and the authorities in this book. This is dangerous since if the purpose of the book is to influence beliefs, painting such a caricatured version would make it harder for order to be established post-disaster - trust in the authorities would surely be necessary at some point.
  
  This near-parody portrayal of the ‘authorities’ is extreme and should probably be ignored. That is the problem with anecdotal books - a book could easily be written too about how the supposed monsters of bureaucracy becomes angels of deliverance in a disaster. This is not to use that as a hammer against this book, but only to suggest that such a book too should probably be written.
  
  3. Another parody-portrayal is that of the ‘elites’ - painting them as the defenders of some ‘order’ who completely lose it when utopian anarchy descends in the wake of a disaster. Being blind to goodness, they then embark on a path of distraction that brings a bad name to all disaster victims. ‘Elite Panic’ she calls this phenomena. This section of the book is written with some heavily shaded blinkers and deserves at best a derisive laugh from the unbiased reader.
  
  4. In addition to these wild approximations, Solnit in her quest for legitimacy for the ideas presented opts for wildly reaching speculations into various fields - for example, comparing disaster to carnivals and thus as a necessary celebration of life. Or comparing to revolutions, or to freedom struggles to show that disasters are a break with the past, ‘mini utopias’ of a sort. That is surely more than just ‘stretching an argument’. In these aspects the book is an overkill. Even lunacy, at times.
  
  Indeed,
  as Richard says in his review, this is the Oprah version. But, in spite of all the criticisms above, it is still an important book. Sometimes the best way to convey to people that the horrid hell of a disaster aftermath is still a path to possible escape is to draw upon real stories, and present them in as empathetic a manner as possible. Disaster is never terribly far away. Knowing how people behave in disasters is fundamental to knowing how to prepare for them. And what can be learned about resilience, social and psychological response, and possibility from sudden disasters is relevant as well for the slower disasters of poverty, economic upheaval, and incremental environmental degradation as well as the abiding questions about social possibilities.
  
  The purpose of the book is not to inform, it is to affect in a visceral fashion - you might not remember facts when the next super-cyclone hits, but you might remember a story and if that stops you from going for an axe for a second longer - enough to see the pain in another eye - the book might have served its purpose. Beliefs matter.
  
  
  
  P.S. Of course, this review is also the Oprah version, but I was moved and I will stand by the author on this one, at least in essence, if not in full.
• 
  David

  Before reading this book I was not a fan of Rebecca Solnit. Upon the insistent recommendation of several friends who rarely steer me wrong, a few years ago I bought a copy of her earlier book about Eadweard Muybridge ("River of Shadows") and found it completely unreadable. I could sense that Solnit was smart, but it was as if she were speaking in tongues - wading through her prose was sheer torment. So I ditched it.
  
  About a month ago I heard her speak about this latest book on a local radio program and she was so incredibly smart and passionate and articulate, and her thesis was so appealing, that I felt compelled to give her another chance. A Paradise Built in Hell was well worth it. It's an extraordinary book -- fascinating, thought-provoking, and ultimately persuasive in supporting Solnit's thesis. And although her style is still somewhat undisciplined, and the material could have been more tightly organized, I found these aspects less annoying than in the previous book, probably because they seemed to be primarily a manifestation of her infectious enthusiasm for the material.
  
  Viewers of "The History Channel" will be familiar with its habit of broadcasting a regularly scheduled "Apocalypse Week", during which they attempt to goose the ratings by scaring the bejasus out of their viewing audience. A typical day's programming during Apocalypse Week takes one possible way in which the world might end (megavolcano explosion, meteor impact, nuclear holocaust, deadly plague, climatic catastrophe, the Rapture, Armageddon as prophesied in the Book of Revelations, insert your own favorite apocalyptic nightmare here ...) and develops it in depth. The cynicism and idiocy with which these scenarios are fleshed out cannot be overstated (e.g. alleged "experts" pontificate on whether emergency services are likely to be overextended, or whether planes will fall out of the skies, in the immediate aftermath of the Rapture; or the apocalypse is linked to the prophecies of Nostradamus, or the Mayan calendar; boundless idiocy runs rampant). Certain themes are common to all apocalyptic scenarios, however- in particular, a complete breakdown of the social order, with people reverting overnight to atavistic stereotypes, resorting to looting and hoarding as they fight tooth and claw for limited resources. This projected behavioral model is also popular with government and law enforcement agencies, e.g. to justify the aggressive intervention by armed law enforcement personnel with broad powers and orders to shoot to kill (think of the official response to Hurricane Katrina). It's based on a depressing and frightening view of human nature.
  
  In A Paradise Built in Hell Solnit mounts a spirited argument that this pessimistic view of how people respond to catastrophe is fundamentally wrong. Instead, she argues, disasters are far more likely to bring out the best in people -- there is a natural desire to help one another, which is actually easier to put into action, given the relaxation of social barriers that often prevails in the
  wake of a disaster. You might go for years just nodding at that neighbor across the street, but after the earthquake/fire/blackout the two of you may just end up having a real conversation.
  
  Solnit grounds her argument in five specific case studies:
  
  * the San Francisco earthquake of 1906
  * the 1917 explosion of the munitions ship Mont Blanc in Halifax, Nova Scotia
  * Mexico City's 1985 earthquake
  * the World Trade Center attacks of 2001
  * Hurricane Katrina and its aftermath.
  
  There were instances where a bad situation was made worse when those in power, through fear or panic, resorted to extreme and unwarranted measures (General Funston's imposition of de facto martial law following the SF quake, where soldiers were given license to shoot to kill anyone who did not cooperate satisfactorily; FEMA's and law enforcement's response after Katrina, where citizens were treated as likely criminals rather than people who needed to be helped). The fear-mongering narrative of barely contained pandemonium often finds traction with the media, but is rarely accurate. By detailed examination of the five case studies, Solnit makes an extremely convincing argument that the "natural" response to disaster is increased cooperation, a sense of solidarity and future possibility, indeed a degree of exhilaration among most survivors.
  
  All five examples are interesting, but her discussion of the WTC attacks and Hurricane Katrina stand out as exceptionally measured, thoughtful and thought-provoking.
  
  This is an extraordinary, wonderful book, which I recommend to everyone.
• 
  Sophie

  In the book A Paradise Built in Hell, Rebecca Solnit explores the phenomena of how disasters throw people into a temporary utopia of changed states of mind and social possibilities. She examines how disaster throws people into a temporary utopia of changed states of mind and social possibilities, as well as looking at the cost of the widespread myths and rarer real cases of social deterioration during crisis. This is a timely and important book from an acclaimed author whose work consistently locates unseen patterns and meanings in broad cultural histories.
  
  However, despite its importance, the book is often tedious to read. The writing is dense and longwinded, with few poetic moments to break up the prose. The audiobook version is particularly awful, with a slow, monotone narration that makes it difficult to stay engaged with the material. I would much rather have Siri narrate me the story than whoever the narrator is.
  
  That said, the book does contain many insightful examples that help to illustrate its main points. The case studies of various disasters- from the 1906 earthquake in San Francisco to Hurricane Katrina in New Orleans- provide a compelling look at how humans react to crisis situations. In particular, Solnit's examination of the "elite panic" is thought-provoking and eye-opening.
  
  Overall, A Paradise Built in Hell is a thought-provoking book that offers a unique perspective on disaster and human reaction. While it can be tedious to read at times, it is rich with insight and provides a much-needed look at this under-examined topic. If you're going to read it, skip the audiobook.
  
  Highly recommend the Behind The Bastards podcast episode on “Elite Panic” if this topic is within your interests.
• 
  Richard

  Many folks might enjoy this book, but I'm not one of 'em.
  
  There are two principle reasons for this, one of which is forgivable, the other is not.
  
  The first is that this is a very personal book. No, it isn't TMI about the author, but her opinions and biases are evident throughout the story. When I see a title like this, I'm expecting something like what Simon Winchester has done numerous times (for example,
  this or
  this or especially
  this, or
  this one that turns out wasn't by him). Even this topic has been more-or-less done the way I expected. See, for example,
  The Unthinkable: Who Survives When Disaster Strikes — and Why. Those are pretty straightforward examples of the genre I thought Solnit was diving into.
  
  But she delivered the Oprah version. That's okay, I guess. Some folks want the human side of things to get more time in the spotlight. And Solnit is strongest in the portions of this book where she is describing the actions and reactions of the folks involved in these disasters. Those segments were very absorbing, even if I had been hoping for more of the cognitive psychology and sociology about why living in the midst of a disaster is so invigorating and uplifting (I remember this phenomena from living through the '89 San Francisco earthquake).
  
  Where Solnit's effort here loses my respect is when she blithely tosses in her political and ideological biases into the mix. Although her political affiliations aren't made explicit, her attitude reminds me of some friends that call themselves socio-anarchists. Not exactly uncommon in San Francisco.
  
  For example, Apparently in her view, the police and the military are the tools of the bourgeoisie. Except for when one or two is portrayed as a member of a family (as seen in the stories of the 1906 San Francisco earthquake early in the book). There's a lot to be said regarding the ties between wealth and power and the degree to which the state's authority might be used too often and too casually in the service of private property. Actually, there's not just a lot to be said, there are volumes — nay, oceans to be said. A wise author would refrain from scattering opinions based on their own simplistic viewpoint in a book where it adds little or nothing. Solnit isn't that wise, so her ideology leaves a taint here that is likely to be unpleasant to anyone with more nuanced or different beliefs.
  
  Of course, it could be said that an artist should be true to themselves, and she certainly has the right to create her book as she desires. But she might suffer for her integrity, cutting down the size of her readership.
  
  Want a much better book written in a similar vein? Try
  Zeitoun by Dave Eggers' portrayal of one man's horror story during the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina.
  
        •       •       •       •       •       •       •
  
  San Francisco Public Library Announcement—
  

  
  SF Library Announces 2012 Citywide Book Club Pick
  On Wednesday morning, city officials and other early risers attended a 5 a.m. ceremony at Lotta's Fountain to commemorate the 106th anniversary of the 1906 earthquake. (The earthquake struck on April 18th at 5:12 in the morning.) The Market Street landmark served as a meeting point for citizens in the aftermath of the massive quake. As part of the ceremony, the San Francisco Public Library also announced this year's choice for the citywide book club, "One City, One Book": Rebecca Solnit's "A Paradise Built in Hell: The Extraordinary Communities That Arise in Disaster."
  
  In the book, Solnit, who lives in San Francisco, documents the sometimes positive outcomes that arise from disastrous situations that force communities to unite in the face of hardship. In addition to other manmade and natural disasters, she discusses the aftermath of the 1906 earthquake. This is the 8th annual "One City, One Book" event, and this year the library is partnering with California Reads, an initiative started by the nonprofit Cal Humanities, which is hosting a series of reading and discussion programs around the theme of democracy in 2012. The library will also offer films, preparedness workshops, and an author talk in October.

  
  ­
• 
  Jeanne

  Stories of disasters have largely come to us from journalists (who need to sell stories) and historians (telling the stories of Great Men). Rebecca Solnit argued that disaster stories ignore the contributions of the common man and the ways that people come together during a disaster to support each other to, instead, focus on the Great Men who saved the day from the mischief and incompetence of the common man (women rarely entering this story except to be saved).
  
  Solnit asserted that there are, of course, people among the masses who respond poorly in a disaster, but that many people come together, support each other, and can become their best selves. Her stories of mutual aid, altruism against one's own personal interest, and community support during 9/11, Hurricane Katrina, the earthquakes in San Francisco and Mexico City, and more are inspiring. A city and the social order can be positively transformed by a disaster. These positive pieces are a good reminder during a pandemic.
  
  These are not the stories commonly told. We hear about firefighters saving people from the World Trade Center following 9/11, but not the mutual support among people who would not typically have had two words for each other, civil or otherwise. We also don't hear as much about the problems in communication that led to the unnecessary deaths of many firefighters. We (I) believe that the government knows best and solves all problems, but Solnit argued that this was often not the case – at least not after the earthquakes in San Francisco and Mexico City, and not after Hurricane Katrina, where governmental intervention created bigger problems.
  
  Hurricane Katrina was a particularly appalling example of the ways that government and those in power created problems that were not there. She suggested that many of these problems were the consequences of elite fear, racism, classism, and paranoid worldviews. Of course, sometimes this wasn't only due to elites, but also the actions of poor and middle class whites, more worried about their property than the Blacks who had lost their homes, possessions, and livelihoods after the hurricane.
  
  Told from the perspective of the elites (a word I hate), someone taking a loaf of bread is a thief and abhorrent, and should be responded to with extreme prejudice, including shoot to kill orders. Told from the perspective of a refugee, the word "looting" has a very different meaning. Such journalism "conflates the emergency requisitioning of supplies in a crisis without a cash economy with opportunistic stealing" (p. 37). This can lead to captioning a set of photos like this.
  
  
  
  Solnit argued,
  
  If the military notion that San Franciscans were a mob on the brink of mayhem were true, the right response to disaster was authoritarian, armed, and aggressive. If the main psychosocial consequence of disaster was a “millennial good fellowship,” then a very different and much milder response was appropriate... At stake in disaster is the question of human nature. (p. 49)
  
  Solnit and others argued that war and disaster lead to destruction and carnage, but also offer meaning, purpose, and a reason for living. Quoting Chris Hedges, "Only when we are in the midst of conflict does the shallowness and vapidity of our lives become apparent. Trivia dominates our conversations and increasingly our airwaves. And war is an enticing elixir. It gives us resolve, a cause. It allows us to be noble” (p. 65). Although we fear that things will fall apart during a disaster unless a hero comes along – just watch any disaster film, where heroes are required – disaster can as easily call on the very best in us.
  
  You can imagine where I take this narrative in the midst of US mishandling of COVID. I am not saying that the rest of the world has it right, but it takes courage and grace to admit that one does not have all the answers and to turn, instead, to science and public health. Solnit offered examples of politicians who did act in the community's best interests following a disaster, but when one frames the world in terms of winning and losing, worthy and unworthy, and good and bad, it becomes more difficult to have the clarity of vision to see through a disaster to solutions (rather than only loss of power or possessions).
  
  Unfortunately, this takes courage and grace.
• 
  Kevin

  *The Good:
  --5/5 for accessibility and the topic (reviving social imagination, especially for Western default-liberal spectators)
  --To justify itself, authoritarianism relies on myths regarding “human nature”; furthermore, Capitalism has so degraded our expectations of each other that we are left with Thatcher’s proclamation: “There is no alternative!” …how can there be change if we cannot even imagine it?
  --Disasters are momentary disruptions to the status quo, which provide insight to how people can act in an altered society. Do communities devolve into mobs or ruthless competitive individualists, or do people step up and respond to social needs (even more so than during status quo control)? This book provides case studies that challenge status quo assumptions.
  --Could this be the same fervor that war brings, the unleashing of a united noble cause? (minus the arbitrary mass murder part, of course...)
  --Just as provocative, what are the beliefs of the authorities towards “the masses” during such crises? How do these beliefs affect the elite's responses to regain control, and how does this affect disaster relief and community healing?
  --We are truly getting to the root of violence with these questions, and this book provides an accessible reflection to something that is too often siloed in academia.
  --As this is an intro, the following are favorites for reviving and expanding social imagination:
  1)
  David Graeber: challenging the morality of debt, the morality of work ethic, is democracy really just periodic voting for distant politicians?
  2)
  Silvia Federici,
  Nancy Folbre: re-imagining society to value care-work
  
  *The Bad/Missing:
  --Once we move beyond elitist "human nature" myths and agree on utopian ideals, a constant debate between utopian anarchism and more pragmatic forms of socialism is on immediate tactics: how do we defend against violent repression without reproducing violent structures? I tend to assume utopian anarchism is more readily applicable in rich countries where there is more space to practice dissent than poor countries under siege. Rich countries have more nuanced means of repression (
  Necessary Illusions: Thought Control in Democratic Societies), although violence is still readily available. In any case, the next step requires a clear identification of and plan against reactionary repression. To prevent a skewed outlook, the global political economy should be the context, and imperialism/classism are crucial frameworks (
  Michael Parenti:
  https://youtu.be/O8k0yO-deoA?t=26). Nonviolence that does not actually challenge the status quo's violent structures is just as guilty at reproducing violent structures.
  --Minor: the writing style can be meandering at times (I found the best case study was saved for last: Hurricane Katrina in New Orleans)
  
  *The Ugly:
  --Authoritarian beliefs bringing out the worst in people and the vicious spiral that ensues…
  

  Civil disobedience is not our problem. Our problem is civil obedience. Our problem is that people all over the world have obeyed the dictates of leaders…and millions have been killed because of this obedience…Our problem is that people are obedient all over the world in the face of poverty, and starvation, and stupidity, and war, and cruelty. Our problem is that people are obedient while the jails are full of petty thieves… [and] the grand thieves are running the country. That’s our problem.

  -
  Howard Zinn
• 
  Dan

  not solnit's best book, but still pretty remarkable. it's tough not to think of naomi klein's the shock doctrine while reading it. in a sense, it's a correction to some of klein's assumptions about community response in the face of catastrophes. both writers are extremely skeptical about neoliberal "relief" efforts - as well as state power in general. but solnit's perspective is more optimistic about grassroots organization - as well as more directly simpathetic to anarchism than her earlier work might imply. the books are also, frankly, similar in their tendency to cherry-pick info in support of an argument. some of the digressions in paradise lack the context necessary to really resonate (there's a bit about the sandanistas, for example, that feels uncharacteristically thin). part of the problem is that solnit has set up a more conventional, journalistic narrative here than in books like a field guide to getting lost. digressions are typically her strong suit (does any living writer digress as well as solnit?), but this book requires a more conventional approach to evidence. at its best, it's a fascinating look at collective action under dire circumstances. there's a section devoted to william james that ranks among my favorite solnit passages. by the end, i wasn't entirely sold on the transformative power of ordinary people, but i look to solnit on account of her belief in others, rather than in spite of it.
  
  and frankly, who else writes so beautifully about political action? solnit indulges none of the miserable fatalism of most on the radical left, and avoids most breeds of may-of-68-nostalgia in the process. as far as i'm concerned, we need more voices like hers - and more books like this one.
• 
  Sarah Jaffe

  I was ready to quibble with her premise, really, I was. I still sort of want to at parts of this book. But it's so beautiful, and it makes me believe that things are possible, that making the world better is possible.
  
  Read it, and read it in conjunction with Barbara Ehrenreich's "Dancing in the Streets."
  
• 
  Paloma

  Este libro explora la respuesta de las sociedades ante el desastre, a partir de tragedias específicas: el terremoto de 1905 en San Francisco, el terremoto de 1985 en Ciudad de México, el huracán Katrina en Nuevo Orleans en 2005, y al ataque de las Torres Gemelas. La autora expone la tesis de que, en las grandes catástrofes, con frecuencia la sociedad civil, la gente común y corriente, es la que mejor respuesta tiene ante la crisis mientras la autoridad parece retraerse o peor aún, tomar actitudes autoritarias, asumiendo que la ciudadanía entrará en pánico. La historia ha demostrado que esto es incorrecto y que esa idea de saqueos, atracos y violencia en las calles es algo que solo existe en las películas de Hollywood. Por ejemplo, en el caso de México, después del sismo de 1985, la sociedad civil fue la que se organizó en cuanto a rescates y labores de apoyo, mientras la autoridad intentó contener, prohibir y limitar dichas movilizaciones. Además de la solidaridad mostrada por los ciudadanos, algo más cambió: la sociedad se dio cuenta que tenía mucho poder y con ello, inició el quiebre de un sistema político autoritario que había dominado la vida nacional. Caso similar fue en Nicaragua, en la década de los 70.
  
  En particular, quedé muy impactada por lo que la autora incluye en relación al huracán Katrina en los Estados Unidos. A pesar de que es una catástrofe reciente, no tenía idea de lo que había sucedido. Ahí las cosas no fueron tan sencillas para la población pues además de perder todo ante las fuerzas de la naturaleza, la situación empeoró por temas de racismo, discriminación y violencia policial. Es inconcebible que, en una tragedia de ese calibre, surgieran todos los prejuicios en contra de las personas negras y afroamericanas. En este caso, el resultado no fue tan esperanzador, pero, lo cierto es que la ciudad logró reconstruirse aun y con el abandono de las autoridades.
  
  Una lectura sumamente informativa que invita a la reflexión. Sin embargo, no fue de mi total agrado ya que la escritura me pareció, en algunos capítulos, densa y que en ciertos pasajes se incluían detalles de más. Por ejemplo, el capítulo del terremoto de San Francisco fue muy largo y no lo encontré tan contundente o satisfactorio como otros.
• 
  Kate Savage

  Some of my favorite Solnit yet.
  
  David Graeber says there are two general axioms of (small-a) anarchism: 1) almost always, left to their own devices, humans are basically good; 2) almost always, power corrupts human goodness and leads to cruelty.
  
  This book felt like the historical research capable of supporting this set of beliefs. In the aftermath of destruction, despite what the movies show us, people tend to engage in heroic acts to help people they've never met, and rapidly organize to create communal support systems. And authority figures tend to militarize and cause violence chaos out of an "elite panic" that private property is in danger.
  
  Solnit engages two of my favorite thinkers, William James and Dorothy Day, centering their thought on the disaster they both lived through, the 1906 San Francisco earthquake. This is a long book, and was slow reading for me. But James' "moral equivalent of war" and Day's "other loves" were good thoughts to be stewing over for some weeks.
  
  I loved Solnit's critique of the "fight or flight" rhetoric around crisis. She shows the research finding that many people, especially women, actually have a "tend and befriend" response to emergencies, building networks and making sure everyone is cared for.
  
  I found myself caught up in Solnit's hopefulness: perhaps the pending Utah disasters of heatwave and megadrought will be met with this kind of community building! I also sometimes lost heart and grew skeptical. The 9/11 disaster only lead to endless war; the barrage of hurricanes lead to more and worse land grabs and development. Solnit offers an interesting critique of Naomi Klein's Shock Doctrine, but doesn't convince me entirely: I feel suspended between the optimism and pessimism of the two.
  
  But I do believe in those moments of recentering that disaster brings. Solnit quotes one resident of New York following the Trade Center attack: "No one went to work and everyone talked to strangers." May it ever be so, amen.
• 
  Steve

  While a revealing read, I felt this author wanted to say too much and left me with the impression of a wandering social critic. She wrote of five disasters: the San Francisco earthquake of 1906, the Halifax ship explosion of 1917, the Mexico City earthquake of 1985, 9/11, and Hurricane Katrina in 2005. She made an interesting point about how community forms during disaster, which can be very much at odds with government. She also noted that horizontally organized, ad-hoc responses can work wonders. I witnessed some of this in the weeks following 9/11 in and around New York City. I imagine this sense of community was the norm prior to the establishment of the modern nuclear family, of which much has been previously written.
  
  Interestingly, Ms. Solnit chose to leave the implications of risk assumption untouched. When someone chooses to live in an earthquake or flood zone or chooses to site their business in a known terrorist target, what responsibility does society then bear? Clearly, poverty restricts movement, limiting choice. What of those who have the means to make better choices and refrain from doing so for their own short-term benefit? I’m curious to read more on this topic.
  
  In the wake of our recent election and in the spirit of saying too much, I feel that the mythologies supporting militarism and racism mentioned in Ms. Solnit’s account are very much a part of our permanent culture and very much beyond hope of betterment. On a recent podcast, David Vine, author of United States of War: A Global History of America’s Endless Conflicts, from Columbus to the Islamic State, noted the US has been at war in every year since its founding but for 11. Ms. Solnit is swimming upstream if she expects our nation to embrace humanism. I also can’t help but reflect on the epidemic level of illogical thought in America. There is a positive here, however. If so many are so willing to fall for a political con-man, then there is a treasure trove of potential consumers for all sorts of silly products, potential consumers willing to believe anything and ripe for the plucking. Have at ‘em folks.
  
• 
  Travis Todd

  So, yeah, by the time I dragged myself across the finish line I was so oversaturated with Solnit's passion for community that I wanted to hole up in some remote mountain cabin with guns and ammunition and food and books as far away from human contact as possible. I didn't want to hug or look with warmth upon another human being ever again. I'm glad she presents examples of people acting with compassion and resilience under disastrous conditions, and is such an incorrigible optimist, but I couldn't help think that this book was WAY too enamored of its premise. And it was so clogged with cliched activist-speak it approached unreadability at times. But let's face it, my own misanthropy was close to terminal long before Rebecca Solnit and I ever crossed paths and no amount of Rainbow Family soup kitchen food will probably ever change that. I sure hope she's right when the shit goes down.
• 
  Micah

  I have a lot of disagreements with Solnit's politics generally, and my copy of this book is filled with frustrated marginalia in response to some of her anarchist contentions (some of which I think are actually dangerous in their hostility to the kind of strong, effective bureaucracy we need to respond to disasters).
  
  But overall, her basic point in this book about human beings' best selves coming out in response to disasters, rather than the Hobbesian "war of all against all" vision of everyone individually fending for themselves at the expense of everyone else, is counterintuitive but extremely compelling, and she marshals a wide range of evidence to support this contention. The book is an incredibly rich reading experience.
  
  We're in a moment of incredible disaster around the world. Reading this book soothed a lot of anxieties I had about my fellow humans' response to that disaster.
• 
  Benjamin

  Great! I found it a bit scattered in the beginning, but it all fell into place by the end.
  
  A great exploration of mutual aid- that isn't written by an insufferable anarchist for once.
  
  A few times in the book, Solnit criticizes Naomi Klein's "Shock Doctrine". I think these two texts are not only compatible but complementary. Reading Solnit's work and then Klein's would draw a nice throughline of how Elite Panic can thwart mutual aid, and can then devolve into shock doctrine style disaster capitalism.
  
  It was reassuring borrowing this book from the library and finding little highlights in the margins from community members who had checked it out before.
  
  Basically, People tend to help each other out.
• 
  Lorianne DiSabato

  A fascinating exploration of how people actually behave in the aftermath of disasters and why some disasters lead to an upsurge of community while others lead to social chaos. Solnit shows through sociological research and numerous anecdotes how the belief that the masses naturally panic during disasters is a myth created in large part by social forces trying to stay in power and fueled by media hype. If given the chance, Solnit suggests, strangers will go to extraordinary lengths to help one another, finding a redemptive and even euphoric sense of camaraderie and community in the immediate aftermath of disaster, when social barriers are broken down. This spirit of community is ruined, however, when government and law enforcement treat the public as if they were more dangerous than the disaster itself, as happened in New Orleans in the aftermath of Katrina, when officials deemed it more important to protect property from looters than save stranded evacuees. Solnit suggests that if government and law enforcement officials trust the people they are sworn to protect, the public can be a powerful ally in rebuilding and recovering in the aftermath of disaster.
• 
  Rowan

  Uff, it breaks my heart to give this 3 stars. I love Solnit's writing, and was really looking forward to this book because of the fascinating premise. But with high expectations comes the potential for disappointment. Honestly if I hadn't read her work before I would have found the content really interesting, but since I know how well she can write, I was disappointed by how repetitive and yet not cohesive the book felt. Every section summed up is essentially: "everyone thinks people are selfish hooligans, but here's a random example of people in an extreme situation being nice to each other. And here's a random philosopher who agrees people can be nice. So we could live in a socialist paradise if we wanted to!"
  
  Anyway, go in without expectations and you'll probably like it more than I did!
• 
  Neal Adolph

  Disasters abound. In my work I've found myself to be, in some way, involved in disaster and emergency response for the past two years. At first it was with COVID-19, which abruptly shocked and disrupted the community that I love and continues to live its long life in the lives of billions of us every single day. Then, this past summer, it was a series of wildfires that ravaged the interior of my home province. And then, a couple months ago, it was a flood.
  
  Each time, the organization where I work stepped up to try and be a part of the solution, and each time our impact was felt and important. I'm fortunate that I can say that we made a difference, and we continue to be involved in difference-making. We've collectively learned a lot through the process, and now we are building out an operational and community impact preparedness plan so that we, as an organization, can be even more prepared to respond to immediate emerging needs. Disasters are around us everywhere.
  
  It was high time that I read this book, which has been sitting on my shelf for a few years now, and I took a week off from work over the holidays because, well, quite simply it needed to be done, and this book is one of those things I decided to dive into. I'm glad I did, and I look forward to sharing it with others at work. It gives me great hope in people, and reduces dramatically my hope in what can be accomplished by centralizing forces - especially in a time of disaster. It also, to great effect, deepens my curiousity about whether that is a good thing at all.
  
  Solnit's main argument in this book is that people are, generally, incredible responsive to disasters; and for the vast majority of us the response is one of altruism, aid, support, and a commitment to supporting others through the times that tug at our bonds. She highlights that this is counter-intuitive at times to the survival of individuals, but it is highly intuitive as a decentralized model of decision making in a moment when many decisions need to be made in every moment. She also points out that this is contrary to what people are told the response to any disaster really is - we expect riots, looting, thoughtless attacks on human dignity because everybody pursues their own best interests when there is no clear authority to direct their energies; what we discover are boundless acts to ensure people are safe, fed, housed, and cared for.
  
  She does the right thing in tying this form of reaction to the ideal of Mutual Aid, even if the vast majority of people who are caught up in disasters and responding by setting up communities of care, rapid response food chains, or helping rescue people from the rubble of an earthquake would never have heard the term before. These actions are, actually, mutual aid.
  
  She also does the better thing, and suggests that the (dis)order of mutual aid is almost like a natural manner for humans in crisis to respond when they are part of community, in community, and dependent on the health and well-being of community. That all seems right and good to me. But then she goes one insight further and plants an incredible seed:
  
  What if these brief-living communities that we build in response to crises are actually the communities that we want to live in but feel incapable of experiencing without the sudden, abrupt, life-time defining alteration caused by Disaster? What if it is actually the world we want to live in, and these beautiful spaces we build together with shocking speed and commitment to the collective wellbeing, what if this way of behaving is how we collectively know we can best operate, almost instinctually? What if this means that our everyday experience, in those days when we don't live in disaster zones, is a crisis of its very own?
  
  I don't want to put words into her mouth - and I very well might be already - but I think this insight is one of those ones you encounter that gives you a sense of hope for all of us. And we live in dark times right now, what with a pandemic, and climate change, and political uncertainty, and much more, so this unexpected hope is something that is very much appreciated.
  
  I'm going back to work tomorrow, and sometime this week I'll find myself in a Senior Management Team meeting with the rest of the highest ranking leaders of the organizations where I work, and I'll recommend to all of them that they give this book a go. It will hopefully help us build our strategy, our ideal, and our commitment to preparing for and responding to whatever forthcoming disasters await us. Hopefully I can help push us into the direction of an organization that fosters and builds upon the ideal of mutual aid at all times; somehow I think that human inertia might just take us there anyways.
• 
  S.

  Writing style: garbage
  Editing: garbage
  Premise: Could have been interesting, but became so contrived and biased it dissolved into a steamy pile of garbage
  Narrator in Audiable: super garbage
  
  Overall rating: landfill
• 
  Justus

  A Paradise Built in Hell has a revolutionary message: everything you know about human behaviour during natural disasters is wrong. The popular image from movies involves mindless crowds of panicked humans. That, within minutes of the veneer of civilization being peeled back, people devolve to theft, rape, and murder. That the disaster itself is so psychologically traumatic that millions of people will have the equivalent of PTSD and need years of counseling.
  
  Solnit shows with case studies -- the San Francisco earthquake of 1906, the Halifax explosion of 1917, the London Blitz of 1940, the Mexico City earthquake of 1985, New Orleans in 2005, New York City on 9/11 -- that the popular imagining of how humans react in disaster isn't true.
  
  She then dives into "disaster research" and shows that it isn't true beyond just those anecdotes.
  
  

  Subsequent researchers have combed the evidence as meticulously—in one case examining the behavior of two thousand people in more than nine hundred fires—and concluded that the behavior was mostly rational, sometimes altruistic, and never about the beast within when the thin veneer of civilization is peeled off. Except in the movies and the popular imagination. And in the media. And in some remaining disaster plans.

  
  
  The reality is, instead, an uplifting picture of the fundamental good of humanity. Altruism is widespread. Communities form. Solnit's message is fundamentally anarchist -- in the sense of "we don't need big-G Government to solve problems for us and save us". It is a message that virtually everyone on the political spectrum should embrace.
  
  If this was all Solnit gave us, the book would be enlightening but also repetitive. (And it does, unfortunately, get repetitive ... more on the bad parts at the end.) But one of the great strengths of the book is that Solnit uses this as a springboard to two related issues: elite panic and the curious "startling joy" of survivors.
  
  The first is "elite panic" (and related issues of media misrepresentation). Solnit makes a decent case that a lot of the ill-effects of disaster are caused by official responses. While she does rail against the general slowness of bureaucracy per se, she also makes a good case that a lot of it is also due to an elite that protects property over people and is worried about maintaining their privileged positions. The nature of the (generally poor) centralized government response also calls into question the legitimacy and competency of those very leaders.
  
  

  One reason that disasters are threatening to elites is that power devolves to the people on the ground in many ways: it is the neighbors who are the first responders and who assemble the impromptu kitchens and networks to rebuild. And it demonstrates the viability of a dispersed, decentralized system of decision making.

  
  
  Solnit also shows us that many of those who experience a disaster look back on it fondly. Of course, it isn't the material deprivation or the human tragedies that cause that. It is that a disaster strips away the anomie of modern atomistic life.
  
  

  In other words, disaster offers temporary solutions to the alienations and isolations of everyday life: disasters may be a physical hell, but they result however temporarily in what may be regarded as a kind of social utopia.

  
  
  Suddenly the problems are immediate and have obvious solutions. Need clean drinking water today? Gone are the intractable problems that modern society normally deals with. Instead the things people seem to crave most -- and struggle to receive in the modern world -- are in abundance: connection, participation, altruism, compassion, purposefulness.
  
  

  Indeed, disaster could be called a crash course in Buddhist principles of compassion for all beings, of nonattachment, of abandoning the illusion of one’s sense of separateness, of being fully present, of awareness of ephemerality, and of fearlessness or at least aplomb in the face of uncertainty.

  
  
  For all of its strengths, A Paradise Built in Hell is not flawless. The first three chapters are 5-star material but the same can't be said for the last two chapters. The chapter on New York's response to 9/11 is long, detailed, and adds nothing much of consequence. She appears to have done some original reporting and feels a need to include it even though it doesn't really add anything she hasn't already covered. It is needless repetition of the same points she made already using previous disasters as an example.
  
  The final chapter on New Orleans is even worse because it seems to actively undermine her previous points. While some elements are still present -- elite panic, media misrepresentation, and so on (remember the early news stories about hundreds of rapes & murders in the New Orleans Superdome?) -- Solnit also repeatedly makes clear that much of the rest of her thesis doesn't really hold. After all -- Solnit repeatedly makes this distinction -- New Orleans wasn't a "disaster" it was a "catastrophe" and it overwhelmed any possibility for a groundswell of communitarian mutual aid.
  
  Her key point is that even in a disaster the majority of people are largely unaffected and the community can (relatively) quickly get back on its feet. But with New Orleans the scale and kind of devastation made that impossible.
  
  Based on the strength of the first three chapter I still recommend A Paradise Built in Hell. I highly recommend the first three chapters and I just as strongly recommend you don't read the final two chapters.
• 
  Dominique

  $1.99 Kindle and Kobo sale, July 11, 2020.
• 
  Juju

  I'm most familiar with Rebecca Solnit's essay collections, so this was a different reading experience for me. This micro-history focuses on refuting the common assumption that disasters bring out the worst in people, and actually proposes the opposite: that despite what you see on the news, disasters actually allow people's inherent capacity for altruism and collective action to briefly flourish.
  
  This perspective was helpful in reconsidering the start of 2022, where almost no news seems like good news, with all manner of global calamity looming. It occurred to me that this book is an interesting counterpart to Naomi Klein's The Shock Doctrine, and Solnit actually addresses that book in one chapter. The difference is Solnit looks at records of people who lived through disasters, while Klein examines patterns of exploitation by wealthy opportunists. I appreciate the conclusions that Solnit puts forward, but it did feel that she would have needed to include more (particularly non-Western) examples to draw broader conclusions.
• 
  chris

  This book is pretty incredible, and I would recommend it to anyone. The argument builds from the 1906 San Francisco earthquake (and subsequent fire) to Hurricane Katrina, through many stops in between, showing how civilized society is a very thin veneer beneath which lies... community and familial love. Looting and panic and random hysterical violence is largely a hyperbole of the very frightened elite. So the touchpoint, throughout, is that the real disaster is a society which keeps people apart, fostering a feeling of helplessness and fear. Emergencies and breakdowns allow a chance for real connection.
• 
  Shawn

  The author has a really interesting, counter intuitive thesis with some really fascinating individual stories and a bunch of intriguing asides. Unfortunately, I found it to be really brought down by the repetitive nature of the book and poor organization. It's a shame, because I feel like better editing could have turned this into a compelling read.
• 
  Howard

  an essential book to read before you make up your mind about human nature. we are not nasty, mean, and brutish. we are fundamentally generous and we put together working social groups no matter where you plant a passel of us.
• 
  Denise

  Exploring the actions and reactions of people caught up in disaster from 1906's San Francisco earthquake to 2005's Hurricane Katrina, Solnit argues that rather than follow the media and disaster movie narrative of dissolving into panic, looting and indiscriminate violence, the majority of those affected by such events tend to come together in solidarity, helping each other out and forging communities built on cooperation and altruism. She examines five cases in detail, including in addition to the aforementioned the 1917 explosion in Halifax, Nova Scotia, the 1985 Mexico City earthquake, and 9/11, and looks also at how prejudices and false beliefs about the likely reactions of civilians in such situations can trigger brutal, deeply harmful responses from those in charge believing they must "restore order" at the cost of causing further injury and death to people they are meant to help and protect. An interesting read, though I would have liked to see her include some cases from elsewhere in the world (she does give reasons for why she doesn't, but still - if you're going to argue that this coming together effect is intrinsic human nature across cultures, you ought to involve a few more cultures) and occasionally found her upbeat, optimistic beliefs just a tad bit naive.
• 
  Howard

  I love this book, but must I warn you that there are several depressing stories about the disasters she documents. The beauty of the book is that she shows how people can get along and help each other when disasters occurs. Governments can't react fast enough, even if they wanted to. The communities that popped up after these disasters are very touching indeed. There is hope for humanity in some cases.
• 
  Nathan Shuherk

  Not where I would start with Solnit. Beautifully written, but somewhat unsure or undecided about the arguments. Will possibly be something I will revisit. I do think this book or at least a premise using the backbones of this project would be aided with a visual medium like a short docu series. 3.5
• 
  Sunny

  Another six star book.
  
  This book is about 345 pages long but there is an approximately 10 page section on The Halifax explosion of 1917 which I challenge anyone to read without having their mouth wide open agape in complete horror. The Halifax explosion of 1917 in the East Coast of Canada was the largest man made explosion before nuclear weapons exploding. It happened when two ships collided just off the coast of the port town of Halifax. One of the ships unfortunately was heavily Laden with bombs and ammunition all set for sail to France where the First World War was ravaging Europe. Unfortunately this bomb Laden ship collided with another ship and quite literally all hell broke loose. I'm not going to spoil the reading for you but one of the stories I remember from this explosion was that when the ships exploded maybe 50 or 100 feet outside the port of Halifax there was someone on a bike on the port who from the force of the explosion and was sent flying 2 miles away. No that wasn't a typo. 2 miles away.
  This is not what the book is all about, the book is about the organic creation of micro societies and groups of individuals who in the face of a depleted governmental and organizational infrastructure to support and guide them, realise they just have to get shit done themselves. They go into what I call the boxer mode and have to act fast. You'd expect that when you have a catastrophic destruction like this some individuals will use this as an opportunity to loot rampage across town and destroy, and I think this does happen in pockets that cant be denied, but what Rebecca does really well is highlight the examples of where the complete opposite has happened in the past. So she looks at the Halifax explosion and how society reacted to rebuild this town, she looks at the Great earthquake of San Francisco 1906, September the 11th, Hurricane Katrina and many others. What she found again and again was that humanity shows glimpses of itself at its worst, but actually, a lot more than people think, there are also huge outpourings of altruism and philanthropy and the positive sides of humanity shining through quite unlike you would envision. I think this book is an incredibly useful book to read at this time when we are struggling through covid-19 and seeing examples of how people are coming through to engage and support each other in all dimensions of life both at home and in the business world is incredibly refreshing and testament to some of the incredible facets of humanity that Rebecca talks about in this book. Enough of my rambling: here are some of the incredible bits from the book and a link the Halifax explosion I was mentioning earlier.
  
  
  https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Halifax...
  
  Popular culture feeds on this privatized sense of self. Are recent movie about political activists proposed that they oppose the government because they had issues with their fathers. The implication was that the proper sphere of human activity is personal (I call it the “i-this i-that” society) , that there is no legitimate reason to engage with public life , that the very act of engaging And potentially challenging the status quo created by the wealthy, is painted as being juvenile.
  
  In the 1906 San Francisco earthquake a mansion burnt down but its stoned portals remained standing. The photograph shows that suddenly, rather than framing the entrance to a private interior, they framed the whole city beyond the Hill where the ruin stood. Disaster sometimes knocks down institutions and structures and suspend private life, leaving a broader view of what lies beyond. The task before us is to recognise the possibilities visible through the gateway and endeavour to bring them into the realm of the everyday Existence.
  
  She points out that two hours went by between the FAA discovered that planes had been hijacked and the Pentagon was struck, almost an hour after the first plane strucke. And she reached distinctly anti institutional conclusions. When the plane that hit the Pentagon and the plane that crashed in Pennsylvania are looked at side by side, they reveal two different conceptions of National Defence: one model is top down and Authoritarian, centralised: the other, operating in a civil frame, is distributed and egalitarian. Should anything be inferred from the fact that the first form of defence failed and the 2nd succeeded?
  
  Horrible in itself, disaster sometimes is a back door into paradise , the paradise at least in which we are who we hope to be, and to do the work we desire and we are each our sisters’ and brothers’ keepers.
  
  The very structure of our economy and society prevents these goals from being achieved. The structure is also ideological, of philosophy that best serves the wealthy and the powerful but also shapes all of our lives, reinforced as the conventional wisdom and conventional narrative disseminated by the media, from news hours to disaster movies.
  
  He argued that permanent peace time was only viable in a society devoted to something more than just simple pleasure. That there must be causes hardships demands and common struggles.
  
  The Halifax explosion lifted the entire 6,000,000 pounds of the Mont Blanc which was the ship which was carrying the bombs and weapons to France; IT CARRIED IT 1,000 FEET INTO THE AIR!!!! vaporised much of it, and dropped a shower of white hot shrapnel over the cities of Halifax and Dartmouth on the East Coast of Canada.
  
  Ring snatchers are a major components of urban disaster myths, and in the 1906 San Francisco earthquake there were also rumours of thieves who filled their pockets with fingers severed to get the rings they wore and they bit off the ear lobes of dead or injured woman wearing diamond earrings. Not even the infamous scousers stooped that low at the infamous Hillsborough disaster of 15th of April 1989.
  
  Charles Darwin's work had been taken a scientific confirmation that life was essentially competitive and each pitted against each other for survival. A century before Jean Jacques Rousseau had stood conventional belief on its head to argue that a decent original humanity had in fact been corrupted by the process of civilization.
  
  The word anarchism means literally in Greek the “absence of government”. It is often used nowadays as a synonym for mayhem and chaos because many imagine that the absence of authority is equal to the absence of order. Anarchists are idealists believing that human beings do not need authorities and the threat of violence to govern them but are instead capable of governing themselves by cooperation negotiation and mutual aid.
  
  A dangerous misconception of mental hygiene is to assume that what man needs in the 1st place is equilibrium or as it is called in biology “homeostasis”. What man actually needs is not a tensionless state but rather than striving and struggling for a worthwhile goal, is a freely chosen task. What he needs is not the discharge of tension at any cost but the call of a potential meaning waiting to be fulfilled by him.
  
  The aplomb of the British under bombardment in the Second World war was attributed to a special national characteristic that became a matter of pride for them: the resoluteness of the Germans was attributed to grim subjugation. There was a difference
  
  Disasters overload political systems by multiplying societal demands and empowering new groups on one hand while disarticulating economies and disorganising governments as well as revealing their organizational administrative and moral deficiencies on the other.
  
  In the words of Wordsworth: the whole earth the beauty wore of promise, that which sets the budding rose above the rose full blown
  
  I recommended that everyone place a hand on the shoulder of the person in front of them and call out if they hit an obstacle so others would know to avoid it. They did, it worked perfectly. They failed in terrorising us. If you want to kill us leave us alone because we will do it by ourselves. If you want to make us stronger, attack and we will Unite.
  
  Inherent in these traumatic experiences are losses such as the loss of loved ones, of cherished roles or capabilities, or of fundamental, accepted ways of understanding life. In the face of these losses and the confusion they cause, some people rebuild a way of life that they experience as superior to their old one in important ways. For them the devastation provides an opportunity to build a new superior life structure almost from scratch.
  
  Cuba is organised as a mutual aid society in which every citizen has his responsibilities his duties and his place. When hurricanes threaten Cuba people move out of the way guided by the neighbourhood communities for the defence of the revolution: Cdr. They move the old and the young the sick and healthy and their cats dogs parrots their goats donkeys and cows to safe places. Here is a truly incredible fact. Last week the Cubans moved 2,615,000 people: a number nearly equivalent to the entire population of Jamaica, to safety. Four people died in the storm, the first fatalities for years. It is a remarkable statistic. Three years ago when Texas tried to evacuate a million or so ahead of hurricane Rita, more than 100 people died in the evacuation.