Cover of the Ist edition of The Storm Leopard

This review was published in the October 2011 edition of Primate Eye, the journal of the Primate Society of Great Britain. Could this be the start of a Stu fan club?

The Storm Leopard is a factual account of a journey across Africa. From the opening chapter introducing us to the reasons behind Martyn Murray’s need for the journey to the closing chapters, we are led to question current conservation thinking. This thought-provoking book seeks to address a dilemma facing all those wanting to ensure the survival of species into our future – balancing the needs of a modern lifestyle with the desire to protect the environment.

Martyn starts with the challenge set from conversation many years ago with a character described as ‘the old timer’, a safari operator working in Kenya who, with dramatic poise, states “You mark my words: they will all disappear one day. Every single wild place.” Thus starts the author’s trip to discern whether the wild places he knew still exist and to answer, if he can, the question “Why are we so destructive of nature?”

Dungbeetles in action with a ball of elephant dung. Sketch by Isla Murray.

In his quest to answer this question, Martyn begins a wandering journey across the continent led by the stories he hears. The descriptive prose leads us on via bushman art and legends. On the way we stop for a discussion of lion fieldwork, the dilemma of elephant culling in protected parks and a healthy section of reminiscing on his own previous fieldwork with antelope, all underpinned with the imagery of the bushman’s storm leopard moving across the continent.

Martyn is accompanied by his friend, Stu, who plays a cynical counterpoint to Martyn’s own beliefs and attitudes. The interplay between the two travellers moves from the tension of differing viewpoints to the camaraderie of the campsite, with Stu’s counter-arguments often proving the perfect foil for Martyn’s perspective.

Throughout the book the descriptive prose brings to life the landscape and animals surrounding the journey, and gives a flavour to the message that Martyn is trying to put across to the reader. It’s easy to feel immersed within the text, and develop a desire to see the places described.

In all, this book was a challenging read for me. Perhaps I should be classed as being as cynical as Martyn’s travelling companion. Even so, I feel this book has tasked me to think more widely and look at my reasoning and beliefs, and I would always recommend that as a worthwhile process.”

Kirsten Pullen

Paignton Zoo Environmental Park

A Scottish pub holds 60 people. This blog was viewed about 1,600 times in 2011. If the average Scot spends the whole evening in the pub, then the pub would have to open about 27 times to serve that many people.

Well it doesn’t quite say that  :^)

Click here to see the complete report.

Rather than making a simple promotional trailer, we wanted to express the motivations that drove me to make the journey across Africa and the even longer journey of writing Storm Leopard – a cogent mix of enchantment with Africa, passion for wild places and irresistible challenge to understand the environmental crisis. It was my first attempt at trying to express such things on video (which shows, despite Christina’s patience and skill) but I hope it may at least give a flavour of what was going on.

Most of the images are from the book or my own collection, but a few are “borrowed” from elsewhere usually to bring home a message. I hope you will forgive me for any transgressions. I’d be happy to have your feedback.

We hope you enjoy the video. Many thanks to Catherine for giving me the idea in the first place, to Des for technical help with de-hissing the audio track, and to all others who helped with the production in one way or another.

Wildebeest pause their annual trekking to feed on the short grass plains in south-eastern Serengeti which provide minerals for their growing calves.

A BBC documentary on the Serengeti National Park (available here until midnight 30 June 2011) pitches a now familiar story. National Parks were created by Western minded naturalists without regard for the traditional rights of local people. In the case of the Serengeti, those local people were pastoralists who had been living harmoniously alongside wildlife; without them the park would not have survived in its present form, indeed could not even have existed as we see it today. For without cattle and fire, we are told, the Serengeti grasslands will return to dense thicket and woodland. Those thickets might support a few browsing animals, like impala and giraffe (actually bushbuck and lesser kudu would be better choices), but not the wide variety of animals we see today. It is thanks to the pastoralist and their cattle, the experts inform us, that we have grasslands in the Serengeti and thanks to the grasslands that we have migratory wildebeest, zebra and gazelles, and the big cats that stalk them. We owe our enjoyment of Serengeti’s rich mixture of woodlands and grasslands – that gloriously productive ecosystem which we revel in, whether on safari or more usually just watching TV – to the people we excluded. The Serengeti, it turns out, is man-made.

It makes a good story.

But pause a minute and ask two questions?

(1) Is Nature so impotent that she is incapable of generating diversity, or wild beauty for that matter, without a lending hand from Homo sapiens?

(2) If the Serengeti had not been granted national park status but been left open to the pastoralists, cattle and wheat farms as in surrounding territory, how much of the ecosystem would survive today?

I hope you agree it’s worth taking a closer look at the justification for national parks. But before doing so, I would like to forestall any wrong impressions by making clear that I am a supporter of conservation efforts outside of national parks. Not only do I believe them to be essential to the future of our wild heritage, but I think they embody the more important long-term challenge for conservation.

I am also a supporter of national parks and here is why.

Lions feeding from the carcass of a Cape buffalo. This pride lived near our house in the Serengeti National Park and picked off the old bulls one by one.

Firstly, in East Africa there is an inverse correlation between the number of pastoralists like the Maasai and the number of large wild mammals. In other words, the evidence of properly conducted surveys (and it’s easy to forget those dry reports when listening to the solemn words of sincere spokespeople on a documentary) show that wildlife and Maasai only coexist at low human density. There would be no ‘Serengeti’ today if there was no national park protecting it.

Secondly, parks are the most successful tool (at least so far) in the rather ineffective conservationist’s tool kit for sustaining wildlife populations. This has been revealed by comparisons (more dry survey reports) of the changes in large mammal densities within and outside African parks over a period of several decades.

Serengeti choir in one of the villages on the east side of the park supported by the park community programme

Thirdly, when managed alongside a good community programme that helps local people, a well run national park will raise living standards and increase the diversity of livelihood options in surrounding areas. That is my personal experience, but I admit there are plenty of parks without such programmes. The community programme in the Serengeti has been a great success. In neighbouring Kenya, the Maasai choose to maintain the Mara Reserve partly because of the tourism revenue it generates.

Zebra stallions fill the air with their whinnying as they defend their harems and ward off rivals

Fourthly, in the case of the grazing antelope (the wildebeest, zebra, hartebeest, waterbuck, reedbuck, oribi, gazelles, topi and so on) it should not be forgotten that all those wonderful beasts have been kicking their hooves in the African sun since well before hominids first set fire to grasses. We must presume that  they enjoyed a combination of edaphic grasslands (created by natural conditions of soil and drainage) and dynamic grasslands (dependent on the combined effects of elephants, other browsers and natural fires) from well before the time of the first human hunter. In other words, many savannah areas in Africa would be filled with the din of migration and the roar of large predators even without human influence. We make a big splash wherever we go but we didn’t create African grasslands, grazing antelope or animal migrations! The short grass plains of the Serengeti are edaphic. Their fine volcanic soils quickly lose the little moisture that falls (only 300 mm per year or less in some parts) and the mineral hard pan is near the surface further inhibiting tree growth.

Lastly, it’s worth bearing in mind an experiment that was attempted in Kenya back in the 1990s which I happened to observe at first hand. At that time part of the budget of the Kenya Wildlife Service was switched from national parks and the support of park rangers to conservation programmes outside of parks. The result was an uncontrolled outbreak of poaching within parks and a measurable decline in wildlife populations. Morale in the ranger force collapsed. Eventually so many people complained that the experiment was brought to an abrupt halt. The budget was reversed and the ranger force given new direction. The poaching was brought under control and wildlife populations began to recover. The lesson is clear. We need our parks.

So why, given the benefits of our national parks, do documentary-makers still like to knock them? I’ll leave that up to you to decide.  For my part, I try to avoid choosing any particular narrative to plug. Or rather the narrative I select derives from one rule and one choice. I aim to be guided by facts (properly gathered data), and I put my hat in the ring with wildlife. I do the latter because, like Bernhard Grzimek, I thrill to the roar of lions at night, and the nibbling of gazelle by day. I think there is something very wholesome in having a few areas where we can experience natural (ish) ecosystems. I think it is good to be reminded of life that is free (ish) of human control. And I think it is important that there are places that inform us about ecological processes that ultimately, I believe, affect us all.

Introduction
When on board H.M.S. ‘Beagle,’ as naturalist, I was much struck with certain facts in the distribution of the inhabitants of South America, and in the geological relations of the present to the past inhabitants of that continent. These facts seemed to me to throw some light on the origin of species—that mystery of mysteries, as it has been called by one of our greatest philosophers.

…I can entertain no doubt, after the most deliberate study and dispassionate judgment of which I am capable, that the view which most naturalists entertain, and which I formerly entertained—namely, that each species has been independently created—is erroneous.

Chapter 1.  Variation under domestication
That most skilful breeder, Sir John Sebright, used to say, with respect to pigeons, that ‘he would produce any given feather in three years, but it would take him six years to obtain head and beak.’

Chapter 3.  Struggle for existence
Nothing is easier than to admit in words the truth of the universal struggle for life, or more difficult—at least I have found it so—than constantly to bear this conclusion in mind.

Not until we reach the extreme confines of life, in the arctic regions or on the borders of an utter desert, will competition cease.

Chapter 4.  Natural selection
Can the principle of selection, which we have seen is so potent in the hands of man, apply in nature?

I can see no good reason to doubt that female birds, by selecting, during thousands of generations, the most melodious or beautiful males, according to their standard of beauty, might produce a marked effect.

Chapter 5.  Laws of variation
It makes the works of God a mere mockery and deception; I would almost as soon believe with the old and ignorant cosmogonists, that fossil shells had never lived, but had been created in stone so as to mock the shells now living on the sea-shore.

Chapter 6.  Difficulties on theory
Long before having arrived at this part of my work, a crowd of difficulties will have occurred to the reader. Some of them are so grave that to this day I can never reflect on them without being staggered; but, to the best of my judgment, the greater number are only apparent, and those that are real are not, I think, fatal to my theory.

Look at the family of squirrels; here we have the finest gradation from animals with their tails only slightly flattened, and from others, as Sir J. Richardson has remarked, with the posterior part of their bodies rather wide and with the skin on their flanks rather full, to the so-called flying squirrels; and flying squirrels have their limbs and even the base of the tail united by a broad expanse of skin, which serves as a parachute and allows them to glide through the air to an astonishing distance from tree to tree. We cannot doubt that each structure is of use to each kind of squirrel in its own country…

Chapter 7.  Instinct
It has been remarked that a skilful workman, with fitting tools and measures, would find it very difficult to make cells of wax of the true form, though this is perfectly effected by a crowd of bees working in a dark hive. Grant whatever instincts you please, and it seems at first quite inconceivable how they can make all the necessary angles and planes, or even perceive when they are correctly made. But the difficulty is not nearly so great as it at first appears: all this beautiful work can be shown, I think, to follow from a few very simple instincts.

We can see how useful their production may have been to a social community of insects, on the same principle that the division of labour is useful to civilised man.

Chapter 9.  On the Imperfection of the Geological Record
I have found it difficult, when looking at any two species, to avoid picturing to myself, forms directly intermediate between them. But this is a wholly false view; we should always look for forms intermediate between each species and a common but unknown progenitor…

A man must for years examine for himself great piles of superimposed strata, and watch the sea at work grinding down old rocks and making fresh sediment, before he can hope to comprehend anything of the lapse of time, the monuments of which we see around us.

What an infinite number of generations, which the mind cannot grasp, must have succeeded each other in the long roll of years! Now turn to our richest geological museums, and what a paltry display we behold!

Chapter 10.  On the Geological Succession of Organic Beings
No one I think can have marvelled more at the extinction of species, than I have done. When I found in La Plata the tooth of a horse embedded with the remains of Mastodon, Megatherium, Toxodon, and other extinct monsters, which all co-existed with still living shells at a very late geological period, I was filled with astonishment…

Chapter 11.  Geographical Distribution
In the course of two months, I picked up in my garden 12 kinds of seeds, out of the excrement of small birds, and these seemed perfect, and some of them, which I tried, germinated.

As the tide leaves its drift in horizontal lines, though rising higher on the shores where the tide rises highest, so have the living waters left their living drift on our mountain-summits, in a line gently rising from the arctic lowlands to a great height under the equator.

Chapter 12.  Geographical Distribution — continued
I well remember, when first collecting in the fresh waters of Brazil, feeling much surprise at the similarity of the fresh-water insects, shells, &c., and at the dissimilarity of the surrounding terrestrial beings, compared with those of Britain.

In the Galapagos Archipelago, many even of the birds, though so well adapted for flying from island to island, are distinct on each; thus there are three closely-allied species of mocking-thrush, each confined to its own island.

Chapter 13.  Mutual Affinities of Organic Beings: Morphology: Embryology: Rudimentary Organs
Embryology rises greatly in interest, when we thus look at the embryo as a picture, more or less obscured, of the common parent-form of each great class of animals.

Community in embryonic structure reveals community of descent.

Chapter 14.  Recapitulation and Conclusion
I can see no limit to this power, in slowly and beautifully adapting each form to the most complex relations of life.

Therefore I should infer from analogy that probably all the organic beings which have ever lived on this earth have descended from some one primordial form, into which life was first breathed.

Light will be thrown on the origin of man and his history.

Whoever is led to believe that species are mutable will do good service by conscientiously expressing his conviction; for only thus can the load of prejudice by which this subject is overwhelmed be removed.

When I view all beings not as special creations, but as the lineal descendants of some few beings which lived long before the first bed of the Silurian system was deposited, they seem to me to become ennobled.

It is interesting to contemplate an entangled bank, clothed with many plants of many kinds, with birds singing on the bushes, with various insects flitting about, and with worms crawling through the damp earth, and to reflect that these elaborately constructed forms, so different from each other, and dependent on each other in so complex a manner, have all been produced by laws acting around us.

Thus, from the war of nature, from famine and death, the most exalted object which we are capable of conceiving, namely, the production of the higher animals, directly follows.

There is grandeur in this view of life, with its several powers, having been originally breathed into a few forms or into one; and that, whilst this planet has gone cycling on according to the fixed law of gravity, from so simple a beginning endless forms most beautiful and most wonderful have been, and are being, evolved.

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]]> http://martynmurray.wordpress.com/2011/06/09/my-favourite-quotations-from-the-origin-of-species/feed/ 0 martynmurray http://martynmurray.wordpress.com/2011/06/01/on-the-origin-of-species-the-illustrated-edition-sterling-2008/ http://martynmurray.wordpress.com/2011/06/01/on-the-origin-of-species-the-illustrated-edition-sterling-2008/#comments Wed, 01 Jun 2011 10:44:57 +0000 Martyn Murray http://martynmurray.wordpress.com/?p=226 Continue reading →]]> This book has been produced on the premise that two beautiful things, when put together, make something even more beautiful, just like wine and cheese, a sail on the sea, the singer and a song, a dove on its leafy branch, a man and a woman. Right? Wrong! Our lives are just not that simple as a few seconds further thought will confirm. How about olives and custard, a modern highway beside a country cottage, an opera singer bugling a rock song, a bickering pair of ex-partners?

More than others, I would expect those in the world of art and literature to understand that a beautiful object becomes more beautiful through its harmonious relation to others. In a partnership, each must speak to the other—strikingly, wittily, subtly, shockingly, artistically—in one way or another but the conversation must take place and it must engage. Sadly in this edition, the powerful words of Darwin’s Origin of Species and the illustrations—a series of stunning images and quotations taken from his other books, notably The Voyage of the Beagle and The Autobiography of Charles Darwin—do not speak to one-another at all. They lie in stark isolation on the same page, a conglomeration of words and images, as scrambled as a dog’s breakfast.

To take just one example, Chapter 1 on “domestication” is full ofDarwin’s observations and explanations about breeding of domestic animals—pigeons, dogs, cattle, domestic hens. It could so easily have been illustrated by contemporary drawings and paintings, many by Darwin himself, of domestic breeds. What do we get? Tropical forests, HMS Beagle, Captain Fitzroy, flamingos, a photo of ants and extracts from the Voyage of the Beagle. It is the same throughout the book. Chapter 7 is about animal instincts and the behaviour of cuckoos, slave-making ants and the honey bee. Do we get photos and drawings of these species and their activities? Nope; it is illustrated with sketches of the Magellan straights, HMS Beagle (again), the Fuegians taken hostage by Captain Fitzroy and yet more extracts from the Voyage of the Beagle. The height of this madness is reached in Chapter 10 where the title page to the Origin of Species is reproduced with its twin quotations, all part of an illustrated story of Darwin’s life that flows randomly through the book, yet this title page is of course part of this book appearing in its rightful place at the beginning (p xiii)! Only with rare exceptions such as in Chapter 12 (on oceanic islands) do we arrive at concordance, and oh what a difference that makes. To see for instance the vulnerability on the face of Robert Grant, Darwin’s friend in Edinburgh, at the same time as we are reading about him is powerful, except that we suddenly notice we are reading about him not in the Origin of Species but in an extract from “The Autobiography of Charles Darwin”…. aaargghh!

If there is a method in the mad layout, it is this: to plot the life of Charles Darwin in images and extracts and then superimpose it on the text of the Origin of Species. Was that a good idea? Do I need to answer that question? I cannot believe that the person who composed (if I can use that word) the layout of this book, or the people who supervised the process, bothered to actually read the Origin. Come on now – did you? In this post-modern world, must we ignore sustained intellectual argument in favour of flash image and sound bite? Do we gain some deeper artistic perspective by having our literary breakfast served à la scramble?

There is assuredly a niche for a properly illustrated first edition of On the Origin of Species. Sadly this book does not fill it, or at least fills it very awkwardly, and the opportunity to catch the 250^th anniversary has now passed. As Darwin might have put it, the window of selective advantage has closed, and we have entered a long corridor of competition for publishing space from more trendy books. Let us hope that the 300^th anniversary will not pass without publication of a new illustrated edition in which text and pictures are married together in blissful harmony – assuming we are still making books by then!

Four stars then, because it would be unthinkable to give the Origin any less, the illustrations in the Sterling edition are beautiful, the quotations enriching, the quality of printing high, and the introduction by David Quammen both thoughtful and illuminating. I reserve the fifth star for the 2059 illustrated edition.

Darwin’s writing soars whenever he gives himself a chance but his chapters are highly structured and compartmentalised (it’s an abstract after all!). In some sections the pace slows, such as the passages concerned with laws governing inheritance and laws of correlation in growth: here Darwin is working partly in the dark, on the right track but unable to see the fuller picture we now have before us. In others, such as in chapter 4 on Natural Selection, he struggles to connect the large number of major new topics that his theory is revealing. But in no time he is back on the chase. Following an inexorable logic, he hunts down not just the origin of species but the whole sprawling process that generates the diversified and multi-branched life of our planet, and no doubt that of countless other planets. Probing for answers from every angle; in one breath he draws insight from botany, the next zoology, the next geology, the next breeding of domestic animals and plants, and the next his own ingenious garden experiments, and keeps going until the particular riddle is solved and the next level of understanding attained.

His style of thinking is unusually fundamental. When discussing the enigma of the extreme perfection of the human eye for instance, he remarks that several facts make him suspect that any sensitive nerve may be rendered sensitive to light. It is this back-to-basics kind of thinking which probably enabled him to connect so much in his mind. His is the very antithesis of the compartmentalised mind which the contemporary world encourages. And as a result Darwin is one of the most creative scientists ever, and surely the most creative of biologists. What have become whole subjects in academia roll off the page with alarming frequency, some in the form of single sentences.

But even Darwin’s great mind freed by inheritance from material worries for a lifetime of unimpeded thinking, and enriched by privileged access to the best brains of the world, had to fight long and hard with the hidden concepts of evolution. For me, one of the most heroic elements of the Origin is Darwin’s struggle with the concept of heredity in the complete absence of knowledge about genes and chromosomes; amazingly he finds a workaround.

The Origin penetrates with its insights, satisfies with its analogies, and charms with its metaphors. Nothing today affords the same visionary breadth or covers the ground in such a fundamental way, not even introductory textbooks in evolution. Nothing else has been written like it, and it is hard to imagine that anything ever will. Buy yourself a copy, find a comfy chair, and enjoy the most amazing Victorian nature ride ever.

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A big thank you to all who contributed to these lists. Preparing them has been great fun; reminding me over and over of the enjoyment I’ve had (and keep on having) in the world of animals. As pressure on nature mounts year on year and the space for wild animals diminishes, let us not forget just how much we love them!

As before, books mentioned as favourites by two respondents are marked with an asterisk, and by three or more respondents with a double asterisk. Quotations from the books are within double inverted commas, a quote from the publisher or a review is within single inverted commas, and a comment from one of the respondents (or my own occasional remarks) is without any inverted commas.

Children’s Books

*Incredible Journey, by Sheila Burnford (Hodder & Stoughton, 1961) This book touched two respondents quite profoundly. A great story combined with the acknowledgement that animals have an inner life.

**The Very Hungry Caterpillar, written and illustrated by Eric Carle (World Publishing Company, 1969) ‘Eaten holes in the pages and simple text with educational themes – one of the greatest childhood classics of all time’.

*The Wind in the Willows, by Kenneth Grahame (Methuen, 1908) One youthful senior reports: I read this every couple of years or so and have done since I was 9.  It came out in 1910 and the reviewer in the TLS predicted it would have no attraction for either child or adult readers!

**Just So Stories, by Rudyard Kipling (Macmillan & Co, 1902) As the daughter of one respondent put it, “I love them but then who doesn’t?” Her top two are: How the Rhino got his Skin and the Elephant’s Child. Writing in 1908, H.W. Boynton noted: ‘It strikes a child as the kind of yarn his father or uncle might have spun if he had just happened to think of it; and it has, like all good fairy-business, a sound core of philosophy.’

The Jungle Book, by Rudyard Kipling (MacMillan, 1894) ‘Fables in which animals give moral lessons. The verses of The Law of the Jungle, for example, lay down rules for the safety of individuals, families and communities. Kipling put in these tales nearly everything he knew or heard or dreamed about the Indian jungle.’

The Silver Brumby, by Elyne Mitchell (Hutchinson,1958). This is the first in a series of much loved brumby books. In a remote part of the Australian Alps, ‘Thowra, a cream wild horse and his half brother Storm are loners. Even as foals they know their country better than others of their herd. Where they lack in strength, they rely on intelligence and knowledge. Is this enough to help them as they grow from foals to stallions?’ It has been suggested that the reason The Silver Brumby never won an award was because the horses talked. But then the judges were grown-ups!

*The Story of Babar, by Jean de Brunhoff (Harrison Smith and Robert Haas, 1933) ‘After Babar’s mother is shot by a hunter, he flees the jungle and finds his way to the city where he is befriended by an old lady, who buys him clothes and enrols him in school. He returns to the jungle bringing the benefits of civilization to his fellow elephants.’

Zoo-ology, by Joelle Jolivet (Roaring Book Press, 2003) This is a fab book, stacked with cool animals, which I have given as gift to kids aged 1-4, says one respondent. ‘Zoo-ology is filled with beautifully crafted species from the Aardvark to the Zebra connected in thought provoking and unusual groupings of creatures of all shapes and sizes.’

Muddle-Headed Wombat in the Snow, by Ruth Park (Educational Press Pty Ltd, 1966) Follows the adventures of Muddle-Headed Wombat and his friends, a good-natured, practical female mouse and a vain, neurotic male tabby cat. Wombat’s speech is peppered with malapropisms and spoonerisms, e.g. treely ruly for really and truly, and lawn the mow for mow the lawn.

The Lorax, by Dr. Seuss (Random House, 1971) I presume the Lorax counts as an animal? For me about the best environmental book out there… says one respondent. ‘In The Lorax, we find what we’ve come to expect from the illustrious doctor: brilliantly whimsical rhymes, delightfully original creatures, and weirdly undulating illustrations. But here there is also something more–a powerful message that Seuss implores both adults and children to heed.’

*Running Wild, by Michael Morpurgo (Harper Collins, 2009) A wonderfully gripping and tear-jerking story that captures the relationship between a ten-year old boy and the natural environment into which he is catapulted, within the context of global issues of the Iraq War, S/SE Asia tsunami, deforestation and wildlife trafficking. Another respondent added: my daughter loves the way the life of the boy and elephant become intertwined and eventual both depend on each other for their survival.

War Horse, by Michael Morpurgo (Harper Collins, 2007) War on the front line, seen and heard through the eyes and ears of a horse during World War I. Still running in the West End.

James and the Giant Peach, by Roald Dahl (Alfred A. Knopf, Inc. 1961) I identified with the 4 year old hero, who had no love from the adult world and made friends with animals. It’s a brilliant adventure, with great insect characters, team problem solving (James and the insects) and a decent jab at our greedy and paranoid society.

The Enormous Crocodile, by Roald Dahl with illustrations by Quentin Blake (Jonathan Cape, 1978) ‘One day an enormous crocodile goes tramping through the forest telling all the animals he’s going to eat children. The animals tell him that it’s a horrible thing to do but he tries to use his tricks to eat the tasty children nonetheless.’

Greedy Zebra (African Animal Tales), by Mwenye Hadithi and Adrienne Kennaway (Hodder Children’s Books, 1984) I loved this when I was little, writes one respondent – I found out how the zebra got his stripes.

*Charlotte’s Web, by E.B. White (Harper 1952) ‘About a pig named Wilbur who is saved from being slaughtered by an intelligent spider named Charlotte.’ Publishers Weekly listed the book as the best-selling children’s paperback of all time as of 2000.

Rascal, by Thomas Sterling North (E. P. Dutton & Co., 1963) ‘The young Sterling reconnects with society through the unlikely intervention of his pet raccoon, a “ring tailed wonder” charmer that dominates almost every page.’

Where the Red Fern Grows, by Wilson Rawls (Doubleday, 1961) ‘About a boy who buys and trains two redbone coonhound hunting dogs… according to an old Indian legend, only an angel can plant a red fern and wherever it grows is sacred.’

The Story of Doctor Dolittle, by Hugh Lofting (Frederick A. Stokes, 1920) Of the favourites which influenced me as a boy, writes one respondent, first are most of the Dr Dolittle books; they create questions and understanding – a pity that flying to the moon by moth is now even less credible, but that flies have to talk so fast because their lives are short, is a good insight!

The Honey Hunters, by Francesca Martin (Walker Books, 1994) A traditional African folktale for ages 4 and over. ‘There was a time when all the animals were friends: the antelope, the leopard, the zebra, the lion, the elephant and the human-kind.’

Down the Bright Stream, by “BB” (D J Watkins-Pitchford) (Eyre and Spottiswoode, 1948). This book opened my eyes to nature like no other. ‘The Little Grey Men are the last gnomes in Britain. They awake in their winter retreat with the appalling news that the Folly Brook is drying up and they must move at once to find a home where they will be really safe.’

The Snail and the Whale, by Julia Donaldson & Axel Scheffler (Macmillan, 2004). My 2 year old son’s favourite animal story – we’ve read it every night for the last 30 nights and I still like! ‘One tiny snail longs to see the world and hitches a lift on the tail of a whale. Together they go on an amazing journey, past icebergs and volcanoes, sharks and penguins, and the little snail feels so small in the vastness of the world. But when disaster strikes and the whale is beached in a bay, it’s the tiny snail who saves the day.’

The Adventure Series, by Willard Price (1949-1980, current publisher is Red Fox). Sneaky choice this one as the series contains fourteen books that ‘chronicle the exploits of budding teenage zoologists Hal and Roger Hunt, as they travel around the world capturing exotic and dangerous animals for their father’s wildlife collection’.

Alice‘s Adventures in Wonderland, by Lewis Carroll (Macmillan,1865).

*Black Beauty, by Anna Sewell (Jarrold & Sons, 1877) ‘The story is narrated in the first person as an autobiographical memoir told by a horse named Black Beauty — beginning with his carefree days as a colt on an English farm, to his difficult life pulling cabs in London, to his happy retirement in the country. Sewell’s sympathetic portrayal of the plight of working animals led to a vast outpouring of concern for animal welfare.’

A Bear Called Paddington, by Michael Bond with illustrations by Peggy Fortnum (Collins, 1958) ‘Paddington is always polite and well-meaning, though he inflicts hard stares on those who incur his disapproval. He likes marmalade sandwiches and cocoa, and has an endless capacity for getting into trouble.’

The House at Pooh Corner, by A.A. Milne with illustrations by E.H. Shepard (Methuen, 1928) In which Winnie-the-Pooh and Piglet build a house for Eeyore…

And for those older children looking for something a bit different:

The Tao of Pooh, by Benjamin Hoff with illustrations by E.H. Shepard (Dutton Books, 1982)

*The World of Peter Rabbit – The Complete Collection of Original Tales 1-23, written and illustrated by Beatrix Potter (Frederick Warne & Co., 1902-1918). Which is your favourite? Mine is The Tale of Mr. Jeremy Fisher. I also love The Tale of Jemima Puddle-Duck and The Tale of Samuel Whiskers! A favourite of one respondent is The Tale of Pigling Bland.

Uncle Remus: His Songs and His Sayings, by Joel Chandler Harris (D. Appleton and Company, 1880) The first of nine Uncle Remus books featuring the trickster hero, Br’er Rabbit. ‘The tales are based upon folklore from the American South and are told by the venerable family servant to a little boy on a Georgia plantation. Remus, the old storyteller, is wise, perceptive, imaginative, poetic, and gifted with a sly sense of humor. Their hero, Br’er Rabbit, is “the weakest and most harmless of all animals,” but he is “victorious in contests with the bear, the wolf, and the fox.”’

Watership Down, by Richard Adams (Rex Collings,1972) Evoking epic themes, the novel recounts the rabbits’ odyssey as they escape the destruction of their warren to seek a place in which to establish a new home, encountering perils and temptations along the way. The novel takes its name from the rabbits’ destination, Watership Down, a hill in the north of Hampshire, England.

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This concludes the four lists of favourite books. I hope you find something of interest – perhaps the twinkle in a bushy eye or the flash of a tail disappearing down a rabbit hole, leading you on to unimagined delights….

Books highlighted by two respondents are marked with an asterisk, and by three or more respondents with a double asterisk. Quotations from the books are within double inverted commas, a quote from the publisher or a book review is within single inverted commas, and a comment from one of the respondents (or my own occasional remarks) is without any inverted commas.

Zoology

*King Solomon’s Ring, by Konrad Lorenz (Methuen, 1961, translated by Marjorie Kerr Wilson) ‘A zoological book for the general audience which has changed the way many people see animals. A few of the findings such as the phenomenon of imprinting have found their way into common knowledge since its publication.’

Man Meets Dog, by Konrad Lorenz (Methuen, 1954, 1st English edition) ‘Invaluable as a guide to sharing your life with your very own devoted friend… there is much that was unknown to me such as the fact that a dog’s eyesight is poor and that dogs are capable of lying, astonishing.’

Curious Naturalists, by Niko Tinbergen (Country Life, 1958) ‘Exposing us up to both the world of nature and the methodology of the naturalist, Tinbergen reveals something that the modern day world distracts us from – patient observation and the results that it yields.’

The Variety of Life: A Survey and a Celebration of All the Creatures That Have Ever Lived, by Colin Tudge (Oxford University Press, 2000). ‘It contains all the knowledge that I hoped to acquire from a degree in Zoology – and didn’t.’  John Maynard Smith.

Island survivors: the ecology of the Soay sheep of St Kilda, by P.A. Jewell, C. Milner and J.M. Boyd. (Athlone Press, 1974) ‘An impressive and highly successful record of over 10 years of research on a feral population of about 1400 sheep on Hirta, the main island of the St Kilda group. This book is packed with fascinating and detailed information about the Soay sheep.’

Mountain Sheep: A study in Behaviour and Evolution, by Valerius Geist (University of Chicago Press, 1971) Why does a highly successful ungulate, living on the fringes of the great ice sheets, waste resources in growing the magnificently decorative horns that grace the Mountain Sheep? Valerius Geist answers this question and many more, so amply and eloquently, ‘that his book will be a model for many years. It is rare indeed that meticulous field observation, stimulating ideas of considerable generality and good writing are combined to give a book of high scientific value and readability that is also informative and exciting.’

Struggle for Survival: Elephant Problem, by John Hanks (Littlehampton, 1979) ‘Anyone wanting a balanced account of the elephant problem and the controversies it has engendered could not do better than read this authoritative, well-written and entertaining text’ notes Keith Eltringham in the journal, Oryx. One respondent observes: The author was very brave to write a book about the culling of so many elephants – when you consider at the time the ‘career-ending’ move this could have been.’

Elephant Destiny, by Martin Meredith (HarperCollins, 2004) A concise, richly illustrated biography of the African elephant. Martin Meredith lays out the history of this majestic animal from the Egyptian pharaohs’ first ivory expeditions 2500 years ago to today, and explores the elephant’s role in literature and popular culture. He shares recent extraordinary discoveries about the elephant’s ability to communicate, its sophisticated family and community structure, and the ways–rare in the animal world–in which elephants show compassion and loyalty to each other.’

Evolution in Action: Natural History through Spectacular Skeletons, by Jean-Baptiste de Panafieu (Thames and Hudson, 2007) This is a lovely book of skeletons; it brings them to life in a way that you wouldn’t have thought possible with a book. ‘Beautiful and instructive… an eloquent and convincing account of the theory of evolution through images alone’.

The Extended Phenotype, by Richard Dawkins (Oxford University Press, 1982) “An animal’s behaviour tends to maximize the survival of the genes ‘for’ that behaviour, whether or not those genes happen to be in the body of the particular animal performing it.” Thus a gene may effect an organism’s environment through the organism’s behaviour, as with caddis houses and beaver dams. A gene of a parasite may even affect the behaviour of another species – the host organism – to improve its (the gene’s) survival.

Silent Spring, by Rachel Carson (Houghton Mifflin, 1962) “Knowing what I do, there would be no future peace for me if I kept silent… It is, in the deepest sense, a privilege as well as a duty to speak out— to many thousands of people…” This book is widely credited with helping launch the environmental movement.

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The next posting in the series will list Children’s animal books.

Novels

**Tarka the Otter, by Henry Williamson (G.P. Putnam’s Sons, 1927) ‘I could always appreciate the joy and wonder in the countryside so richly expressed in Tarka the Otter, but I could also see a darkness that was a mystery to me.’

The Snow Leopard, by Peter Matthiessen (Viking Press, 1978) “An insightful friend, a painter, pointed out that my fiction and nonfiction in their various forms were only different facets of a single immense work—the same rage about injustice, the same despair over our lunatic destruction of our own habitat and that of other creatures. An evocation of our splendid earth and an elegy to the land and life that is being lost—both lie at the heart of my fiction and nonfiction.” Peter Matthiessen, Paris Review

White Fang, by Jack London (Macmillan, 1906) ‘The story of a wild wolfdog’s journey to domestication in Yukon Territory, Canada. Much of the novel is written from the wolfdog’s view-point, exploring how animals view their world and how they view humans. White Fang examines the violent world of wild animals and the equally violent world of humans. The book also explores complex themes including morality and redemption.’

Never Cry Wolf, by Farley Mowatt (McClelland and Stewart, 1963) ‘As a young Game Warden, Farley Mowatt is sent to remote northernmost Canada to evaluate the effect of wolf depredations on the caribou herds. What he finds is that the wolves eat voles and mice and only sick, aged, or weak caribou. (This is contested by wolf biologists.) He finds that the wolves are a natural part of the ecosystem, and that a pack of wolves together is far less destructive than even a single human being with a rifle.’

Wolf Totem, by Jiang Rong (English edition: translated by Howard Goldblatt, Penguin, 2008) Reveals the intelligence of the wolf, its uncompromising nature and how, as a spirit animal, it shaped the great Mongolian nation. Contains some biological errors. It is perhaps best thought of as a semi-biographical novel describing the wolf-nomad relationship as recounted by Inner Mongolians prior to their settlement and loss of nomadic culture.

Lions Share: The Story of a Serengeti Pride, by Jeannette Hanby. (Collins, 1983)  ‘This is a beautifully written and illustrated book written from a lion’s perspective.’ ‘David Bygott describes the book as having three themes: the story of a specific lion pride on the plains, a summary of lion social organisation and behaviour, and a basic introduction to the ecology of the Serengeti plains.’

Forbush and the Penguins, by Graham Billings. (Hodder & Stoughton, 1970) ‘Forbush and the Penguins was Graham Billing’s first novel. It explores the physcial and emotional world of a biologist working in solitude on a study of penguins in Antarctica and was written after he had spent eighteen months working there as a journalist.’

The Roots of Heaven, by Romain Gary. (White Lion Publishers, 1973) “Barely alive, starved, exhausted, we would clench our teeth and follow our great free herds obstinately with our eyes, and see them march across the savanna and over the hills, and we could almost hear the earth tremble under that living mass of freedom. We tried not to speak of it, for fear the guards would notice, and sometimes we would just look at each other and wink, and then we knew that it was all right, that we could still see it, that it was still alive in us. We held on to the image of that gigantic liberty, and somehow it helped us to survive.” Romain Gary

*A Sand County Almanac, by Aldo Leopold. (Oxford University Press, 1949)  A classic of nature writing, mixing essay, polemic, and memoir to elaborate a land ethic that is based on a balance of nature. One respondent remarked: I read Aldo Leopold’s A Sand County Almanac and the accompanying Round River at least once a year (I have a volume falling to bits). Another considered this to be one of the best books ever written.

Six Pointer Buck, by David Stephen. (Swan Hill Press, 1992) ‘An intimate and closely observed portrait of the life of a roebuck, written with all the insight of an experienced naturalist allied to the descriptive skills of a first-class country writer.’

Gazelle Boy, by Jean-Claude Armen. (The Bodley Head, 1974) An intriguing account of Armen’s quest for this boy in the Spanish Sahara where he found him living with a herd of gazelles. True or hoax – the jury is still out. (I think Jean-Claude Auger finally came clean, MM)

Wild Animals I have Known, by Ernest Thompson Seton. (Scribner, 1898) ‘If you want to learn the laws of nature and better understand animals and their ways, these accounts of a hunter-trapper will reward you with hours of enchanted stort-telling.’

Grey Owl: Three Complete and Unabridged Canadian Classics, by Grey Owl. (Firefly Books, 2001) A favourite that influenced me as a boy is most of Grey Owl’s adventures in Canada. I remember especially how he came to a stand of ancient trees and remarked how rare that is – even more so now!  His understanding of beaver is excellent and relevant today.

The Once and Future King, by T.H. White. (Collins, 1958) The description of geese is unforgettable. ‘White’s glorious and rich narrative paints a vivid picture of twelfth century adventure, chivalry, treachery, despair and ultimately, tragedy.’

Animal Farm, by George Orwell. (Secker and Warburg, 1945) ‘While this novel portrays corrupt leadership as the flaw in revolution (and not the act of revolution itself), it also shows how potential ignorance and indifference to problems within a revolution could allow horrors to happen.’

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Next postings will list Zoological and Children’s animal books. Let me know if you have an all-time favourite!