The story of the most audacious serial heist in the history of Australia’s museums — and the British gentleman adventurer who pulled it off and got away with it — in a scientific true-crime caper stretching around the globe.
In January 1947, a chance discovery rocked the world of natural over 3,000 rare and precious specimens of butterflies had vanished from Australia’s most prestigious museums in Sydney, Melbourne, and Adelaide. Alarmingly, the missing insects included many priceless ‘holotypes’ — the first specimen of a given species to be identified, against which all others are compared.
On the other side of the world, New Scotland Yard descended on a country house in Surrey, where they found a trove of over 40,000 butterfly specimens. The culprit was Colin Wyatt, a Cambridge-educated ski champion, mountaineer, wartime camouflager, artist, and amateur naturalist whose high-flying exploits cut a path from the Alps of Europe to a London court room to a final expedition to the jungles of Guatemala.
Drawing on unpublished case files, dossiers, and private archives, The Butterfly Thief pieces together Wyatt’s enigmatic life story and his decades-long impact on the world of natural history. Along the way, award-winning journalist Walter Marsh reveals a deeper history of gentleman explorers, scoundrels, and grave-robbers that begs an uncomfortable but vital What if Western museums were crime scenes all along?
This book looked so good from the online description and turned out to be so dull. It could have been condensed into a short story. The thief was identified early in the book and then the remainder was a slow meandering through many characters and scenarios of little consequence that I almost quit numerous times. Finishing the book was no reward for me. I am sad to say I am being generous to give this book 2 stars.
I wanted to read a book about a museum theft. I wanted to like it. I wanted to finish it. None of these things were possible for me.
The author seems to only be interested in trashing the reputations of Australian museums by repeatedly making his point of view clear that all museums stole everything anyway and how wrong it was. He would then go off on tangents about several historical figures and paint them with the same brush. There are many chapters that could have been left out completely, as they simply were not relevant to the subject matter. I learnt more about this story in a half hour podcast than I did while attempting to read this book.
I'm disappointed. I was hoping for more. It is the first book that I have not been able to finish in five years.
The Butterfly Thief is a riveting work of narrative nonfiction that blends true crime, natural history, and imperial legacy into a story as unsettling as it is fascinating.
Walter Marsh reconstructs the astonishing 1947 discovery that thousands of rare butterfly specimens many of them scientifically irreplaceable had vanished from Australia’s leading museums. What unfolds is not merely a heist story, but a global investigation into obsession, entitlement, and the quiet systems that enabled cultural and scientific theft to flourish.
At the center of the narrative is Colin Wyatt, a charismatic and deeply troubling figure whose life reads like a work of fiction: Cambridge educated adventurer, wartime camouflager, artist, and obsessive collector. Marsh handles Wyatt with nuance, neither glamorizing nor flattening him, instead revealing how his exploits were enabled by a broader culture of “gentleman exploration” and imperial privilege.
What truly elevates this book is its critical lens. By asking whether Western museums themselves may be crime scenes, Marsh reframes the story beyond one man’s audacity to interrogate long-standing practices of extraction, ownership, and authority. Meticulously researched and beautifully written, The Butterfly Thief is both a gripping caper and a necessary reckoning. Readers interested in true crime, history, museums, and empire will find this an unforgettable read.
A very interesting story. The author has written a biography of Collin William Fforde Wyatt who managed to steal hundreds of butterflies from numerous museums including the Australian Museum in Sydney, the National Museum of Victoria and the Museum of South Australia. Wyatt was a British adventurer, champion skier, an artist and explorer and a lover of the outdoors especially when searching for elusive and rare butterflies to add to his personal collection. The author has amassed an enormous amount of information and anecdotes about entomological research and the research scientists who collect, identify and curate their collections in particular the butterflies of the world. He also meticulously traced the theft of the butterflies and the scientists and museum employees who tracked the thefts to Wyatt. Unfortunately the book suffers from having too much of this great research being included within the story so that it becomes overwhelming and disjointed. With finer editing this mediocre book could have been an excellent exposé and a brilliant read.
Its an interesting story i never heard of - good explanation of holotypes and the importance of correct specimen labelling for scientific research - the museum basically consigning his returned specimens to the trash was quite an eye-opener. The book ranges widely from London, Guatemala, the Himalayas, Australia etc and Walter did a good research job to pull it all together. The last few pages on the ongoing misslabelling cases is also very interesting. So its a great story - but - Walter seems to describe every character in Australia at great great length - so many people pop-in, some reappear later, many dont. Possibly if you are an Australian lepidoperist these names would all be interesting, for me i nearly gave up. The second half of the book picks up and overall its a good read. There is a lot of politics mingled in about the morality of collecting and the treatment of First Nation people
Beautifully written and thoroughly researched. Sometimes astounding and intricately woven account that also places the role of museums within specific cultural contexts. Thoroughly recommend.
From the Mona Lisa theft at the Louvre in 1911 to the Ocean’s Eleven franchise, heist stories have always fascinated audiences. Walter Marsh’s first book, The Butterfly Thief: Adventure, Fraud, Scotland Yard, and Australia’s Greatest Museum Heist will appeal to naturalists and true crime aficionados alike.
This book almost got me addicted to insects again. I started jumping up from the couch to chase little flying critters in the yard, flipping over random rocks while at work, looking up at streetlights while driving, ect. Luckily it’s a sorta average book.