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The Georgian Menagerie
In the eighteenth century, it would not have been impossible to encounter an elephant or a kangaroo making its way down the Strand, heading towards the menagerie of Mr. Pidcock at the Exeter Change. Pidcock s was just one of a number of commercial menagerists who plied their trade in London in this period the predecessors to the zoological societies of the Victorian era. As the British Empire expanded and seaborne trade flooded into London s ports, the menagerists gained access to animals from the most far-flung corners of the globe, and these strange creatures became the objects of fascination and wonder. Many aristocratic families sought to create their own private menageries with which to entertain their guests, while for the less well-heeled, touring exhibitions of exotic creatures both alive and dead satisfied their curiosity for the animal world. While many exotic creatures were treasured as a form of spectacle, others fared less well turtles went into soups and civet cats were sought after for ingredients for perfume. In this entertaining and enlightening book, Plumb introduces the many tales of exotic animals in London.
304 pages, Hardcover
First published June 30, 2015
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August 26, 2015
Disclaimer: ARC via Netgalley.
I’ve always wanted a tiger, but I’ve always not wanted a tiger. Tigers are beautiful animals, but do you really want an animal that will never fully be tame and could just kill you by accident? How many times does your cat scratch you? It’s also true that this is all relative. If I lived in a place where a leopard could just walk into my bedroom, my view on leopards would be different. Honestly, I don’t understand why people go ga-ga over baby possums, and squirrels are rats with fluffy tails.
Humankind, however, as long had a fascination with animals, in particular with animals that are exotic to the viewer. Today, we tend to go to zoos (even if we are conflicted about them) and watch television to see such beasts. While some people might still have exotic pets, most people don’t, unless it is a bird, and sometimes animals that were once exotic are no longer so. Would you, for instance, call an elephant exotic?
We tend to forget the impact that new discoveries and arrivals can have on people. And no, I’m not talking about the panda twins. We get excited about the birth, but that sense of newness isn’t quite what it once was.
And it is important to remember that when reading Plumb’s book about the arrival of new and unusual animals in Georgian England, in particular London and the impact such beasts had on the public. Imagine being able to own a kangaroo. That’s one of the stories that Plumb starts with, a kangaroo delivery gone bad and then gone good. In many ways, the way the Georgians viewed animals isn’t so far removed from how we view them today.
Plumb details the various aspects of how the animals were received. Starting with the popularity of canaries, moving into the use of civet musk and bear grease and ending with the political story of the Queen’s Ass (a zebra), Plumb shows that while the animals were part attraction, part make-up source, they were also part discovery. He points out that touch was an important part of the experience. Something that still occurs today, even when the animals are largely roped off from the people, you still have people trying to get closer or the zoo ambassadors with the petable animals. It’s that sense of wonder that we still have that tie us to the Georgians.
Though we also, perhaps, have some cruelty in common as well. There is the story of the elephant kept in a room. Perhaps, the zoos today don’t look so bad now, huh? The bear that was misfed. But there are also stories of humanity - the drayer who defended a kangaroo, the wills made out to insure the safety of pets. Perhaps we owe our current relationship to the groundwork laid down by those back then.
Plumb’s book is divided into sections – moving from private owners to business men to the crowd’s reaction. It makes for fascinating reading. It is also encompassing. Various classes and their relationships with beasts are used. Plumb presents the story of a rich woman ensuring her bird’s well treatment after her death, but also the story of bird dealers who struggled to make a profit. His tone is engaging and details he gives are not supercilious. Most of the focus is on birds and mammals, reptiles make a few appearances. He also presents, to a degree, the shift to zoos; in part because of the rise of science.
If you are interested in animals or in London history, this is a good book.
I’ve always wanted a tiger, but I’ve always not wanted a tiger. Tigers are beautiful animals, but do you really want an animal that will never fully be tame and could just kill you by accident? How many times does your cat scratch you? It’s also true that this is all relative. If I lived in a place where a leopard could just walk into my bedroom, my view on leopards would be different. Honestly, I don’t understand why people go ga-ga over baby possums, and squirrels are rats with fluffy tails.
Humankind, however, as long had a fascination with animals, in particular with animals that are exotic to the viewer. Today, we tend to go to zoos (even if we are conflicted about them) and watch television to see such beasts. While some people might still have exotic pets, most people don’t, unless it is a bird, and sometimes animals that were once exotic are no longer so. Would you, for instance, call an elephant exotic?
We tend to forget the impact that new discoveries and arrivals can have on people. And no, I’m not talking about the panda twins. We get excited about the birth, but that sense of newness isn’t quite what it once was.
And it is important to remember that when reading Plumb’s book about the arrival of new and unusual animals in Georgian England, in particular London and the impact such beasts had on the public. Imagine being able to own a kangaroo. That’s one of the stories that Plumb starts with, a kangaroo delivery gone bad and then gone good. In many ways, the way the Georgians viewed animals isn’t so far removed from how we view them today.
Plumb details the various aspects of how the animals were received. Starting with the popularity of canaries, moving into the use of civet musk and bear grease and ending with the political story of the Queen’s Ass (a zebra), Plumb shows that while the animals were part attraction, part make-up source, they were also part discovery. He points out that touch was an important part of the experience. Something that still occurs today, even when the animals are largely roped off from the people, you still have people trying to get closer or the zoo ambassadors with the petable animals. It’s that sense of wonder that we still have that tie us to the Georgians.
Though we also, perhaps, have some cruelty in common as well. There is the story of the elephant kept in a room. Perhaps, the zoos today don’t look so bad now, huh? The bear that was misfed. But there are also stories of humanity - the drayer who defended a kangaroo, the wills made out to insure the safety of pets. Perhaps we owe our current relationship to the groundwork laid down by those back then.
Plumb’s book is divided into sections – moving from private owners to business men to the crowd’s reaction. It makes for fascinating reading. It is also encompassing. Various classes and their relationships with beasts are used. Plumb presents the story of a rich woman ensuring her bird’s well treatment after her death, but also the story of bird dealers who struggled to make a profit. His tone is engaging and details he gives are not supercilious. Most of the focus is on birds and mammals, reptiles make a few appearances. He also presents, to a degree, the shift to zoos; in part because of the rise of science.
If you are interested in animals or in London history, this is a good book.
September 2, 2015
I received this book for free from NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.
The Georgian Menagerie by Christopher Plumb is precisely what its title portends it to be. The book details the evolution of the menagerie during the long eighteenth century, and with it the changing ways in which British culture viewed animals and their relationships to them. The book is cleverly divided into a variety of sections to better sum up the changing cultural values:
Trade
Ingredients
Crowds (which delves into people's relationships with animals at large and contains sections such as "Bitten, Crushed and Maimed" and "Under the Knife"
Humor
For such a slim volume the book is suprisingly informative and contains a great deal of primary sources within. While the way some animals are treated is incredibly distressing (Chunee the elephant in particular) what surprised me the most was how little our behavior towards some animals has changed. There are still idiots poking and harassing animals at the zoo, still people who view animals more as property than sentient beings, and still all too many people who believe that animal parts have a strong place in medicine that will revitalize them.
The Georgian Menagerie was an eye-opening book. Say what you will about the past, but at least during that time animals weren't destroyed for attacking those who abused them.
The Georgian Menagerie by Christopher Plumb is precisely what its title portends it to be. The book details the evolution of the menagerie during the long eighteenth century, and with it the changing ways in which British culture viewed animals and their relationships to them. The book is cleverly divided into a variety of sections to better sum up the changing cultural values:
Trade
Ingredients
Crowds (which delves into people's relationships with animals at large and contains sections such as "Bitten, Crushed and Maimed" and "Under the Knife"
Humor
For such a slim volume the book is suprisingly informative and contains a great deal of primary sources within. While the way some animals are treated is incredibly distressing (Chunee the elephant in particular) what surprised me the most was how little our behavior towards some animals has changed. There are still idiots poking and harassing animals at the zoo, still people who view animals more as property than sentient beings, and still all too many people who believe that animal parts have a strong place in medicine that will revitalize them.
The Georgian Menagerie was an eye-opening book. Say what you will about the past, but at least during that time animals weren't destroyed for attacking those who abused them.
August 6, 2015
While I fully appreciate the amount of research that went into this book, and the attempt at a light writing voice to balance out the droll subject matter, this book isn't for me. I had to double check that I wasn't invited to read a textbook for zoologists. This type of work has a very narrow audience and unfortunately I am not a part of it.
However I fully recommend this book to people interested in history, animals, or who have an extreme passion for London.
However I fully recommend this book to people interested in history, animals, or who have an extreme passion for London.
October 19, 2015
Leave it to the Georgians to create what was basically an exotic zoo in the Tower of London and other important buildings. Have to admit I felt really bad for some of the animals and how they were treated. That said while I didn't always enjoy what I read I did find it very interesting.
arc from NetGalley
arc from NetGalley
September 16, 2015
A fascinating although at times cringe worthy read. As a modern person reading this there were some definite WTF moments when reading about how badly these exotic animals where treated by their fascinated yet absolutely clueless audience and owners. An elephant drinking a pint in a pub? A tiger in the stable? Where was David Attenborough when they needed him? :)
December 4, 2016
Well-researched and packed with fascinating anecdotes, Plumb’s study of exotic animals and their place in England over the centuries which came to its fruition in particular in Georgian England with the establishment of countless private and public menageries makes for some very interesting reading. Once seen as a badge of royal power and only available to the rich, the expanse of trade and navigation to all corners of the world meant that soon strange and marvellous beasts and birds were being imported, sold and displayed for everyone to see. Not surprisingly, a lack of concern for the animal welfare often led to some sad outcomes, but scientific knowledge was an integral part of the collecting of exotic animals, leading to the rather more enlightened zoos that we know today. All in all this is a deeply fascinating and well-told exploration of our obsession with unusual animals.
April 6, 2020
An engaging look into Georgian society and their fascination with not only glimpsing but owning exotic animals. Not all exotic animals were for exhibition, some found their way onto the tables of many a well-heeled individual, and even in death, a strange new fate awaited them - the taxidermist!
April 8, 2018
A fascinating look at 18th century attitudes towards animals, both their keeping and consumption. Recommend for anyone with either a zoological interest or a fascination with the Victorians.
May 26, 2018
3.5 - A decent read overall. Some chapters and segments were exceptionally interesting and engaging, but others were quite dragging and dull. Still, I was glad to read it and learned a thing or two.
August 20, 2015
It must have been fun to live in a time when people believed in dragons. Elephants, you see "waded into pools of water when they wanted to give birth; a male would stand by the pool to guard the mother from their mortal enemy, the dragon." How marvelous.
Unfortunately, that seems like one of the only fun aspects of life in the Georgian period – especially for animals. In the "long eighteenth century", there was very little empathy or sentimentality expended on fellow human beings, much less animals (except where the sentimentality ran deeper than the Thames), and as is to be expected when reading about this period there were passages that will make your hair curl. Remember, this is the time period of John James Audubon, whose name has become synonymous with conservation, but whose paintings are all (I believe all) of birds he killed and posed.
But he was setting out his nets in the wilds of America. This book explores the impact of non-native animals introduced into Europe, and especially England – and particularly London. I wouldn't have thought there would be enough to fill a book – but I underestimated the potential. By combing through historical records of all sorts, including journals and letters, newspapers and wills and criminal files, Christopher Plumb has compiled a kind of mind-boggling array of creatures that made their way – living or dead – to and through London.
As pets, as exhibits, as subjects for study, as food, and as other commodities, exotic animals could be big business. They could also let their investors down in a big way; between the fragility of health of creatures being taken from the tropics to London and the cutthroat tactics involved in the trade, fortunes could vanish in what seemed like the blink of an elephant's eye. Some animals became fashionable – I felt a little silly at having to readjust my thinking about parrots and canaries, because obviously they are not native to England (canaries being named for their islands of origin), because they became so common. ("Dennis O'Kelly …died of gout in 1787. His obituary in the Gentleman's Magazine made more mention of his parrot than of his own life.") ("Wigton tried to prove the ownership of the bird by putting his hand in the cage and tickling the bird; the bird bit him and made a croaking sound just as Wigton said it would.")
The problem with this sort of history is that because the data being mined is scattered and fragmented and rather random, there is rarely a beginning and a middle and an end to the stories being told. Example: after a close-up encounter with, I believe, a leopard (somehow I failed to make a note of the animal), "the boy, 'in a gore of blood', was sent to Guy's Hospital for surgery." We are never told if he survived; the records might not have done so, if there ever were any.
Still, even as a collection of facts and anecdotes, this is fascinating. Gruesome in places (the fate of the elephant kept at the Exeter Exchange is horrifying) and repulsive in places (the whole section on bears. And civets. I mean – snuff? Snuff??), but always fascinating. (About the former, a quote: "the little elephant that had been coaxed up two flights of stairs and put in his den was now, some 16 years later, a big angry elephant". A full-grown elephant on the third floor of a city building. Yeah. You know that's not going to end well.)
The writing was erudite and served very well to stitch together the patchwork of the history, with the author's sense of humor cropping out in places. ("Its taste, God forbid, was described as 'subacrid' or 'bitterish'." Again, I stupidly didn't make a note on the highlight, but I have a horrible feeling that quote came from the civet section…) The only thing that stood out as less than enjoyable was the constant use of the phrase "the middling sort" in place of something like "the middle class".
I highly recommend this to writers of fiction set in the period. Where the historical record is a a bit scanty, there's endless room for the historical novelist to play.
This was received from Netgalley, free for an honest review. Thank you!
Unfortunately, that seems like one of the only fun aspects of life in the Georgian period – especially for animals. In the "long eighteenth century", there was very little empathy or sentimentality expended on fellow human beings, much less animals (except where the sentimentality ran deeper than the Thames), and as is to be expected when reading about this period there were passages that will make your hair curl. Remember, this is the time period of John James Audubon, whose name has become synonymous with conservation, but whose paintings are all (I believe all) of birds he killed and posed.
But he was setting out his nets in the wilds of America. This book explores the impact of non-native animals introduced into Europe, and especially England – and particularly London. I wouldn't have thought there would be enough to fill a book – but I underestimated the potential. By combing through historical records of all sorts, including journals and letters, newspapers and wills and criminal files, Christopher Plumb has compiled a kind of mind-boggling array of creatures that made their way – living or dead – to and through London.
As pets, as exhibits, as subjects for study, as food, and as other commodities, exotic animals could be big business. They could also let their investors down in a big way; between the fragility of health of creatures being taken from the tropics to London and the cutthroat tactics involved in the trade, fortunes could vanish in what seemed like the blink of an elephant's eye. Some animals became fashionable – I felt a little silly at having to readjust my thinking about parrots and canaries, because obviously they are not native to England (canaries being named for their islands of origin), because they became so common. ("Dennis O'Kelly …died of gout in 1787. His obituary in the Gentleman's Magazine made more mention of his parrot than of his own life.") ("Wigton tried to prove the ownership of the bird by putting his hand in the cage and tickling the bird; the bird bit him and made a croaking sound just as Wigton said it would.")
The problem with this sort of history is that because the data being mined is scattered and fragmented and rather random, there is rarely a beginning and a middle and an end to the stories being told. Example: after a close-up encounter with, I believe, a leopard (somehow I failed to make a note of the animal), "the boy, 'in a gore of blood', was sent to Guy's Hospital for surgery." We are never told if he survived; the records might not have done so, if there ever were any.
Still, even as a collection of facts and anecdotes, this is fascinating. Gruesome in places (the fate of the elephant kept at the Exeter Exchange is horrifying) and repulsive in places (the whole section on bears. And civets. I mean – snuff? Snuff??), but always fascinating. (About the former, a quote: "the little elephant that had been coaxed up two flights of stairs and put in his den was now, some 16 years later, a big angry elephant". A full-grown elephant on the third floor of a city building. Yeah. You know that's not going to end well.)
The writing was erudite and served very well to stitch together the patchwork of the history, with the author's sense of humor cropping out in places. ("Its taste, God forbid, was described as 'subacrid' or 'bitterish'." Again, I stupidly didn't make a note on the highlight, but I have a horrible feeling that quote came from the civet section…) The only thing that stood out as less than enjoyable was the constant use of the phrase "the middling sort" in place of something like "the middle class".
I highly recommend this to writers of fiction set in the period. Where the historical record is a a bit scanty, there's endless room for the historical novelist to play.
This was received from Netgalley, free for an honest review. Thank you!
August 18, 2015
All creatures big and small of the exotic sort and the effect they had on the imagination of Londoners.
My thanks to I.B. Tauris & Co. and Net Galley for providing me a copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.
This is a fascinating book. I’m one of those people who find the history of the good and great all very well but I’m more interested in what everybody else and society at large was up to while the battles and big political debates took place. And the more curious the topic and the angle used to shine a light on an era, the better.
Christopher Plumb’s choice of topic works well on many levels. Most of us have been fascinated by animals when we were children (and into adult life, whether we admit it or not), and the more exotic to us, the better. Imagining a period in history when many westerners would have never seen a parrot, a kangaroo, or a lion, might be difficult now, but it wasn’t all that long ago. The circumstances of the exhibition and sale of many of these animals provide a fascinating insight into human curiosity, enterprise, and society. And it goes from the Royals to the people who would manage to get a few shillings to pay for a ticket to see the latest attraction. If not everybody could afford their own aviary or menagerie at home, towards the end of the era canaries were affordable by many. The topic is well-researched, with beautiful illustrations of the period, references and footnotes for those interested in further enquiry, but it never becomes arid or tedious. This is not a list of sources and data. The era, the personalities of the merchants, anatomists, and even the animals are brought to life through anecdotes, fragments of poems, songs, newspaper articles, letters…Although readers might not share the point of view and feelings of the people of the period, it’s easy to imagine being there and looking on.
We learn about the uses of bear grease, civet as perfume, turtle feasts as symbols of power, eels and sexuality, parrots and jokes about women, Queen Charlotte’s zebras and the jokes to follow, the prices of animals and tickets in relation to salaries, the opinions of the general population about their monarchs, sexual mores and allusions, famous elephants, sickly giraffes, lions roaring in London’s Strand, the Tower of London menagerie, and how all changed with the arrival of the Zoological Garden at Regent’s Park. Christopher Plumb draws interesting conclusions (or rather guides the reader to notice certain things) that emphasise how the external manifestations of human nature might change, but at heart, perhaps we aren’t that different from our ancestors and we’re not as enlightened and modern as we’d like to think.
This book can be enjoyed by all readers, even if they don’t know much about the Georgian period of English history (also referred in the book as the long eighteenth century), but I think it will be an invaluable resource to anybody studying or researching the era, as it provides vast amounts of background and information (without seemingly doing so) from an unexpected angle, and many of the anecdotes could become full stories in themselves. Vividly described, each chapter can be read individually for specific research purposes, but I feel the whole is much more than the sum of its parts.
A book that will keep me thinking for a long time.
My thanks to I.B. Tauris & Co. and Net Galley for providing me a copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.
This is a fascinating book. I’m one of those people who find the history of the good and great all very well but I’m more interested in what everybody else and society at large was up to while the battles and big political debates took place. And the more curious the topic and the angle used to shine a light on an era, the better.
Christopher Plumb’s choice of topic works well on many levels. Most of us have been fascinated by animals when we were children (and into adult life, whether we admit it or not), and the more exotic to us, the better. Imagining a period in history when many westerners would have never seen a parrot, a kangaroo, or a lion, might be difficult now, but it wasn’t all that long ago. The circumstances of the exhibition and sale of many of these animals provide a fascinating insight into human curiosity, enterprise, and society. And it goes from the Royals to the people who would manage to get a few shillings to pay for a ticket to see the latest attraction. If not everybody could afford their own aviary or menagerie at home, towards the end of the era canaries were affordable by many. The topic is well-researched, with beautiful illustrations of the period, references and footnotes for those interested in further enquiry, but it never becomes arid or tedious. This is not a list of sources and data. The era, the personalities of the merchants, anatomists, and even the animals are brought to life through anecdotes, fragments of poems, songs, newspaper articles, letters…Although readers might not share the point of view and feelings of the people of the period, it’s easy to imagine being there and looking on.
We learn about the uses of bear grease, civet as perfume, turtle feasts as symbols of power, eels and sexuality, parrots and jokes about women, Queen Charlotte’s zebras and the jokes to follow, the prices of animals and tickets in relation to salaries, the opinions of the general population about their monarchs, sexual mores and allusions, famous elephants, sickly giraffes, lions roaring in London’s Strand, the Tower of London menagerie, and how all changed with the arrival of the Zoological Garden at Regent’s Park. Christopher Plumb draws interesting conclusions (or rather guides the reader to notice certain things) that emphasise how the external manifestations of human nature might change, but at heart, perhaps we aren’t that different from our ancestors and we’re not as enlightened and modern as we’d like to think.
This book can be enjoyed by all readers, even if they don’t know much about the Georgian period of English history (also referred in the book as the long eighteenth century), but I think it will be an invaluable resource to anybody studying or researching the era, as it provides vast amounts of background and information (without seemingly doing so) from an unexpected angle, and many of the anecdotes could become full stories in themselves. Vividly described, each chapter can be read individually for specific research purposes, but I feel the whole is much more than the sum of its parts.
A book that will keep me thinking for a long time.
August 19, 2015
The Georgian Menagerie: Exotic Animals in Eighteenth-Century London is described as "entertaining and enlightening". I think it would have been better described as "educational, and entertaining only if you find cruelty to animals entertaining". From cages to chains; from malnutrition to starvation; from freezing to death to perishing in fires; from being tormented by owners to being tormented by spectators; from ending up in soups to ending up as wig grease; it's all there for your "entertainment". That's what the exotic birds and animals were mostly doing in London--entertaining the masses. Or entertaining those who could afford to own them, such as royalty.
Not everyone was unkind or indifferent to animals, of course. When animals would harm or kill humans, they usually were not ordered destroyed by the courts, but instead their owners were fined very small fines. Loose, rampaging animals were usually the only ones destroyed. Yes, if you prefer reading about the harm that sometimes happened to owners, trainers, keepers and sightseers of exotic animals, not to mention innocent pedestrians, go straight to Chapter 8 : "Bitten, Crushed & Maimed". Be forewarned, though, some of those attacked were children. My favorite tale in that chapter was the one about an elephant named Miss D'Jek who got revenge on her mean keeper one day.
In all fairness, the book is not all dreary and depressing. For example, parrot lovers may find it more "enlightening" than others. Actually, the book did exactly what it claimed to do on page 213: The Georgian Menagerie has revealed the life of the city's animal merchants and bird sellers, and the significance that the birds and animals they sold held for those who owned and saw them. The diaries and letters of Londoners and visitors to the city, in addition to wills, insurance records, court records, newspapers and broadsheets reveal a city bursting with exotic birds and animals." Now, how well the reader can stomach those revelations will greatly depend on how well the reader can stomach tales of cruelty to birds and animals.
(Note: I received a free e-copy of this book from NetGalley and the publisher in exchange for an honest review.)
August 28, 2015
"The Georgian Menagerie" is a history of exotic animals in England, mainly from 1700 to 1832. The author used diaries, letters, ads and handbills, court cases, wills, insurance policies, and poems to get a first hand account of exotic animals in England, especially those in London. This provided a wonderful sense of what life was like at the time and people's attitudes towards exotic animals. He followed the trade from the importers and sellers to the private owners and menageries.
He covered exotic animals like canaries, parrots, cranes, tigers, leopards, lions, bears, monkeys, snakes, seals, llamas, zebras, hyenas, camels, and rhinoceros. He talked about how they were feed, their living conditions (and how that changed), how much it cost to see them, traveling exhibits, what happened to the animals after they died (which usually meant being studied then stuffed and displayed), how people treated and interacted with the animals, and what associations were made with various animals (especially electric eels, the Queen's zebra, and parrots). He also talked about uses of exotic animal parts, like bear grease for hair styling, civet in perfume, and turtle meat for soup.
The information was presented in an interesting way using the stories of those involved with exotic animals in some way. I'd highly recommend this book to anyone interested in 18th century London or in how zoos developed from private and commercial menageries.
I received an ebook review copy of this book from the publisher through NetGalley.
He covered exotic animals like canaries, parrots, cranes, tigers, leopards, lions, bears, monkeys, snakes, seals, llamas, zebras, hyenas, camels, and rhinoceros. He talked about how they were feed, their living conditions (and how that changed), how much it cost to see them, traveling exhibits, what happened to the animals after they died (which usually meant being studied then stuffed and displayed), how people treated and interacted with the animals, and what associations were made with various animals (especially electric eels, the Queen's zebra, and parrots). He also talked about uses of exotic animal parts, like bear grease for hair styling, civet in perfume, and turtle meat for soup.
The information was presented in an interesting way using the stories of those involved with exotic animals in some way. I'd highly recommend this book to anyone interested in 18th century London or in how zoos developed from private and commercial menageries.
I received an ebook review copy of this book from the publisher through NetGalley.
November 27, 2015
Georgian London was not the sort of place you would imagine being bitten by a kangaroo or having to worry about an elephant falling through your ceiling, yet cases of both incidents have been recorded. In fact the Georgian ‘thirst for novelty and the exotic’ ensured that Britain, and more specifically London, were awash with every type of creature that could survive the boat journey from America, Asia or Africa. A pub in Tower Hill housed cassowaries, hair dressers kept bears in their basements in order to use their fat for wig pomade, and fresh turtle soup was used as a political tool to impress friends and win votes. From the private menageries of the upper class, to the living rooms and shops of middle income Londoners, this book explores a world that saw the Strand echo with lion’s roars.
Using court records, wills, playbills, diaries, letters and newspaper articles Plumb fills his book with anecdotes of encounters between exotic animals and their enthralled Georgian audiences. Sometimes these stories are light hearted, such as the running joke that ladies preferred their parrot companions to actual suitors, to the more disturbing tales that describe the awful treatment and cramped enclosures these poor creatures were forced to live in. It is a fascinating and well researched insight into a rapidly expanding world that allowed its people’s voracious appetite for anything new and unusual to be sated.
3.5 stars.
Using court records, wills, playbills, diaries, letters and newspaper articles Plumb fills his book with anecdotes of encounters between exotic animals and their enthralled Georgian audiences. Sometimes these stories are light hearted, such as the running joke that ladies preferred their parrot companions to actual suitors, to the more disturbing tales that describe the awful treatment and cramped enclosures these poor creatures were forced to live in. It is a fascinating and well researched insight into a rapidly expanding world that allowed its people’s voracious appetite for anything new and unusual to be sated.
3.5 stars.
September 28, 2015
This was an ARC from Netgalley.
If you've ever been interested in the history and flourishing of zoos, wild beasts and menageries in England, this is a very comprehensive and interesting look through historical records of the Georgian era. Probably not ideal if cruelty to animals causes a visceral reaction as the human race does not, as usual, cover itself with glory in regards to ethical treatment and some chapters can be a bit upsetting as to the treatment that the animals often received.
Certainly when it came to the chapter on people who were mauled, my general feelings could be summed up with "what did you expect when you repeatedly poked (animal)!?" But there were often expressions of sadness when birds or animals passed on, that were not always related to money related concerns or ownership, so that was nice.
If you've ever been interested in the history and flourishing of zoos, wild beasts and menageries in England, this is a very comprehensive and interesting look through historical records of the Georgian era. Probably not ideal if cruelty to animals causes a visceral reaction as the human race does not, as usual, cover itself with glory in regards to ethical treatment and some chapters can be a bit upsetting as to the treatment that the animals often received.
Certainly when it came to the chapter on people who were mauled, my general feelings could be summed up with "what did you expect when you repeatedly poked (animal)!?" But there were often expressions of sadness when birds or animals passed on, that were not always related to money related concerns or ownership, so that was nice.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
October 4, 2015
From Netgalley for a review:
This book is one of those that is both very well researched and well written, but is just a touch boring. The writer really did try to make it lighthearted and not too dry, and it mostly succeeds, but I did find myself spacing out while reading a few times.
The subject matter is pretty fascinating, imagine living in a time where you actually could own a rare, wild animal, you would be the talk of the town for having a tiger. It also shows how animals were kinda treated like crap back then, so glad that most zoos have evolved to take great care of their animals now!
Basically I say give this book a read if you are a history buff or just really find animal tending in the past fascinating. It is pretty niche, but worth reading over all.
This book is one of those that is both very well researched and well written, but is just a touch boring. The writer really did try to make it lighthearted and not too dry, and it mostly succeeds, but I did find myself spacing out while reading a few times.
The subject matter is pretty fascinating, imagine living in a time where you actually could own a rare, wild animal, you would be the talk of the town for having a tiger. It also shows how animals were kinda treated like crap back then, so glad that most zoos have evolved to take great care of their animals now!
Basically I say give this book a read if you are a history buff or just really find animal tending in the past fascinating. It is pretty niche, but worth reading over all.
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August 30, 2015I received this book from the publisher via Netgalley.
Unfortunately I gave this one up at 20%. I had high expectations but felt the early chapters that I read were very dry and not particularly engaging. I really wanted to like this one, but I honestly felt that my eyeballs were sliding off the pages as I tried to remain engaged.
Perhaps things may have picked up if I had stuck with it, but the tone was a bit too drab for my personal tastes.
Unfortunately I gave this one up at 20%. I had high expectations but felt the early chapters that I read were very dry and not particularly engaging. I really wanted to like this one, but I honestly felt that my eyeballs were sliding off the pages as I tried to remain engaged.
Perhaps things may have picked up if I had stuck with it, but the tone was a bit too drab for my personal tastes.
August 16, 2015
I received this book in exchange for an honest review. I have to say that I am torn about this book. While I love historic books, the history of this book is very hard to stomach. It is very well written, but the subject matter is quite cruel. I think this would be a wonderful book for someone that likes this type of history but I don't think that it was for me.
January 7, 2016
Interesting anecdotes, but style is not lively.
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