If chimpanzees and bonobos are our close evolutionary brothers and sisters, then rhesus macaques are, say, our step-brothers: not as genetically close as brothers but close enough to help plan the family reunion. Unfortunately, they are rarely talked about as related to homo sapiens. Maybe that is because, as will be seen in this book, they are so danged nasty.
The point of Dario Maestripieri's book is to give us an anthropological glimpse at rhesus macaques and their very Machiavellian behavior. And the point of doing that is to show that rhesus macaques are very, very similar to humans in certain, and not always good, ways. They are very territorial, trade favors for services, dislike "outsiders" (not of their group) with a passion, stage revolutions of the weak against the strong, etc, etc. Not to sound flippant, but the behavior of rhesus macaques is quite similar in kind to the behavior of human gangs (be they bloods, skinheads, motorcycle gangs, or la cosa nostra). Or to put it differently, rhesus society resembles a slightly less individualistic version of Hobbes's state of nature.
Maestripieri has spent decades looking at how rhesus macaques operate, and the book reads like an anthropology text. Behavior is explained and anecdotes are given to support these explanations. We see how macaques organize themselves into hierarchies (and hierarchies within hierarchies), how (fragile) bonds are formed by exchanging favors for...umm...services, and even how they play oligarchical politics.
To me, the big fault of the book is that the author never really argues the point that we should see rhesus behavior as an illuminator of our own behavior as much as he assumes it. In one chapter, he demonstrates that rhesus males have no part in child rearing, at the very end of the chapter suggesting that fatherly instincts are a recent development in humans. While I have little problem with this assertion (and suspect it may be true), the author leaps from description of macaques to pontificating on implications for humans without going through the middle step of arguing why rhesus behavior is any better a guide to humans than, say, bonobo behavior. (One negative reviewer took issue with certain similar statements the author made suggesting that rhesus females' non-participation in politics gives reason to suspect that human females do not have as much political instinct as males. I suspect that had the author argued why his rhesus descriptions are connected with his human speculations, these "leaps" would be less problematic.)
The other slight problem I had was the authors tendency to confuse proximate with ultimate causal explanations for behavior. Several times he talks about several macaque behaviors, like females' having sex with weaker males only during times when they can't concieve, as cost/benefit analysis. Of ccourse, behaviors like this may have evolved because their benefits outweigh their costs, but the author often describes these acts as if they were MOTIVATED by cost/benefit analysis. (Occasionally, the author will correct himself here but go on in the same chapter to make the same linguistic conflation.)
All in all, I gave the book four stars because I found it extremely interesting (on a subject often overlooked) and very engaging. The author succeeds in giving us great description about rhesus macaques. Where the author does not succeed is in convincing us that rhesus macaques can really illuminate human behavior any better (or even as good as) bonobos and chimpanzees, who are much closer relatives and just as similar behaviorally. Yes, we are similar in ways to rhesus monkeys, but so are we to many animals, most of whom are not close relatives. Pointing out behavioral similarities do not themselves justify analogies; those must be argued for, which is what this book lacks. If you read this book solely as a study and explanation of rhesus macaque behavior, though, the book is illuminating and entertaining indeed.