The Philosopher and the Wolf

Photo copyright Ryan McGinley

The wolf ran alongside him, flowing along perfectly, and the man, lumbering and sweating next to him began to understand that the believed supremacy of human beings was all a strange fiction that we tell ourselves. How can we say that we are better than animals? When our running is stumbling and awkward, and the wolf’s is full of grace and beauty… That is the broad question that Mark Rowlands seeks to answer in The Philosopher and the Wolf, what is our basis for thinking we are superior?

As well as a funny and engrossing memoir of his time spent with a wolf that he raised, which you should read if you like animals, I think you should also read it if you like to ask questions and have your foundations shaken.

Rowlands makes an interesting case against his perception of the arrogance and sheer stupidity/(at times) evil of human beings. He starts simply. He divides the human character into ape and wolf.

The ape is who we are descended from. Apparently our brain development occurred from a complex social structure within apes, as well as the possibility in that structure of lies and deceit. He uses an example of a group of apes walking along a track, and one ape catches sight of a branch of ripe fruit that none of the other apes have spotted. She sits down on the path and pretends to groom herself, while the others walk past, so she can have the fruit to herself. So what we have there is a demonstration of forward thinking: The other apes will want this fruit, so that is predicting the feelings and desires of others. Deceit is demonstrated in the act of pretending and hiding for a selfish purpose. From this and other examples, the point is made that our entire species, all of our civilization, is built upon lies. This is what allowed our brains to develop to the extent they are at now.

This might sound very depressing, he also says that without that, we would not have literature, music, art, etc.

The other element is that of the wolf. The wolf, in nature and in our own selves, represents everything that the ape is not. Joy, loyalty, honesty, love.

I am not going to lie, at times it was a very gruelling read, as it forces you to explore things that you would rather, in your heart of hearts, leave untouched. But ultimately it makes you want to be kinder and more human, which is a great deal different to all the books out there that promise to make you happier, richer and more magnetic. Some of the most difficult reading are in the chapters where the author outlines the many examples of human cruelty and evil. You might think of calculated evil here as the real example of human capacity for destruction, but, and I agree with this, what is worse is evil by proxy, or unacknowledged evil. He gives the example of the famous Milgram experiment on obedience to authority figures, which is very clearly outlined here, if you don’t know about it already. And it forced me to ask myself, would I do it? Would I electrocute someone for no reason? Even if someone wearing a uniform told me to? Even if it was just three months after the trial of Adolf Eichmann?

No, I sincerely believe I would not, and by saying that, I am not marking myself out as special or some kind of distributor of morality, but that is why I think books like this and others are important, because after reading them and opening some doors in your mind, you start to become the kind of person who would not, ever.

A wolf, in other words.

The Drunken Forest

Rainforest

If you’ve read ‘My Family and other Animals’ by the same author, you will know that Durrell has a fantastic ability to make his hair-raising anecdotes of encounters with animals both hilarious and informative. ‘The Drunken Forest’ doesn’t disappoint on that count. There’s a few in particular that could be published as short stories in them-selves.
As a self-proclaimed collector Durrell, with the help of his wife sets out to Argentina and Paraguay to bring home animals for his zoo and preservation trust in Jersey. This is all set in the early 1950’s.
What I found difficult in some parts was the idea of collecting animals for a zoo, sometimes taking fledgling chicks away from their parents. The idea of zoos though, has undergone a drastic change in the last 50 years, with many becoming a huge resource for the study and care of animals. Indeed, many animal species only exist in zoos now. Gerald Durrell definitely belongs in more in the ‘preservation collector’ category rather than the ‘stick pins through insects and mount them’ type!
This book is a joy to read and I will relay one story of a grey pampas fox…

‘Foxey’s… interest in cigarette butts amounted to almost an obsession.
Whenever he found one he would pounce on it and devour it,
with the expression of utmost loathing on his face. Then he
would spend an uncomfortable half an hour coughing violently,
have a long drink of water and be ready for the next butt-end.
One awful day, however, Foxey learnt his lesson. Carelessly I
had left a nearly full packet of cigarettes within his reach, and
before I had discovered it Foxey had eaten the lot. To say that
he was sick would be a vast understatement. His stomach per-
formed the emesis of all time, and every last shred of paper and
tobacco was returned to the light of day, tastefully mixed with
Foxey’s breakfast. He was so exhausted by this effort that he just
lay and let a chicken walk right past him, and never even twitched
an ear. By evening he had recovered enough to eat a couple of
pounds of meat and two raw eggs, but the offer of a cigarette
caused him to back away, sneezing indignantly. Never again did
he sample tobacco in any shape or form.’

Corvus

From the Journal of Antiques

A most beautiful book, recommended to me by the lovely Sara.
A woman gets a rook, she observes it, her thoughts about this rook called Chicken and other Corvids, including a magpie and a crow, make up this fascinating volume.
Part memoir, part philosophy, part natural history, Esther Woolfson's writing is very eloquent, particularly on the subject of the differences between birds and humans.
The order of Corvids, which include those birds mentioned above and also jays, ravens and jackdaws, are believed to be the most intelligent of all birds. The interesting point the author makes is how flawed our judgement of intelligence really is. Firstly, we are quite cagey when it comes to defining intelligence in humans. Secondly, just because birds have not checked all our boxes of intelligence, the only thing this proves is that we do not understand them. I think that humanity has many many catastrophic errors in categorising intelligence and dismissing everything else. Our systematic destruction of native and 'primitive' culture is enough example, I imagine.
The author makes another interesting point in that, because we do not understand birds, as they are so very different to us, the seemingly unavoidable response is one of suspicion and, in most cases, fear.
The Corvid family, ravens and crows in particular, have a long history in Western Europe of persecution, appear in mythology as harbringers of death and have been long regarded as ugly and sinister. This book argues convincingly for their cause. The rook named Chicken is a constant source of fascination and surprise, displaying a myraid of brilliant behaviours, many of which can be paralleled to our own, indeed there are so many examples of percieved emotion (from Chicken basking in the sun joyously, to a positive response to a specific type of music, to fear and anger at the sight of a black pair of bathing shorts seemingly mistaken by Chicken to be a fellow rook, dead) that it is clear that people's superstitious attitudes towards these birds deserve to be altered.
A great, rich read, I enjoyed it immensely, I loved the geeky particulars and studies on animal behaviour, but I think the book has so much more to offer in questions about ourselves and our interaction with the natural world than any book I have read.