In this particular volume of Durrell’s memoirs of his journeys he travels to Mauritius with the dual aim of educating a Mauritian student in the conservation of the local wildlife and catching some of the more endangered species to take back to his Jersey zoo to start breeding programmes.  It sees him and his companions encountering marijuana growers in the high forests and scrambling around on exposed rocky islands chasing after skinks, all told with Durrell’s characteristic humour and flair for recounting anecdotes.

This isn’t my favourite of Durrell’s books that I’ve read so far, probably because it seems to focus more on the zoological aspects of Durrell’s expedition than some of his other books.  Although Durrell’s animal stories are wonderful, it’s his descriptions of human antics that accompany them which I enjoy the most and I think the balance between the two isn’t as even in Golden Bats and Pink Pigeons as in others, particularly his Corfu stories.

Nonetheless, it remains an entertaining book, not least because of some worrying illustrations of Gerald Durrell in the sort of terrifyingly short shorts worn only by teenage girls and British men of a certain age when on holiday in hot countries where they think no one will notice.  Dodgy clothing choices aside, his stories never fail to elicit a chuckle.  His account of chasing skinks over Round Island is a joy to read, and he is able to characterise animals in an unfailingly vivid and comic manner.  Take for example his description of some monkeys:

We rounded one corner and came unexpectedly upon a troop of eight Macaque monkeys, sitting at the side of the road, their piggy eyes and air of untrustworthy arrogance making them look exactly like a board meeting of one of the less reliable consortiums in the City of London.

Although it may not have been my favourite of his memoirs, Golden Bats and Pink Pigeons has reaffirmed Gerald Durrell’s place in my heart and on my bookshelf as a sure writer for a cheering book.

Golden Bats and Pink Pigeons by Gerald Durrell.  Published by Fontana, 1979, pp. 157.  Originally published in 1977.

Title:

Author: Julie and John Hope.  Illustrated by Sue Hellard

Published: Bantam Books, 1998, pp. 29.  Originally published 1996

Genre: Humour poetry

Blurb: A witty, charming treasury of traditional Christmas carols -rewritten by cats for cats – includes such classics as “The Twelve Days of Catmas,” “We Wish for the Fam’ly Goldfish,” and “Bark! The Hairy Scary Things.”  (Goodreads.com)

When, where and why: I was given this book by Father Christmas in my stocking several years ago.  I felt the need for something light, festive and amusing to read, so this seemed the ideal book to pick up before bed.  It counts as book 35/50 for my Books Off the Shelf Challenge.

What I thought: Christmas Carols for Cats is great fun.  It features twelve well-known Christmas songs and carols rewritten so that the centre around cats (as all things in life should, I feel).  The adaptations are clever and witty and they scan so well that I found myself humming them under my breath as I read the book.  There are a few contributions which don’t work quite as well, in my opinion, such as ‘Collar Bells’ which is set, unsurprisingly, to the tune of  ‘Jingle Bells’, but I found something to enjoy in every single song.  The illustrations by Sue Hellard which accompany the carols are perfect, bringing out the humour of the words and enhancing it through their appealing depictions.

One of my favourite songs in the book is ‘The First Slow Yell’ to the tune of ‘The First Noel’, something which will be familiar to all owners of hungry cats:

The first slow yell for you as you lay

Asleep in the morning on Christmas Day

O do not snore please get out of bed

It’s seven o’clock and I haven’t been fed.

O Yell O Yell O Yell O Yell

Feed me at once or I’ll make your life hell.

To lay a-bed is an awful disgrace

Get up right now or I’ll sit on your face

My furry paw ‘neath the covers will crawl

Fill up my bowl or I’ll caterwaul.

O Yell O Yell O Yell O Yell

Feed me at once or I’ll make your life hell.

Your last big chance now give us a break

I’ve clawed at your nightshirt you should be awake

I’ll niggle and naggle, be ever so rude

For nothing else matters when I want my food.

This would definitely be the perfect Christmas gift for any cat owner or cat lover.

Where this book goes: I’m going to hang on to this book to read again at future Christmas times.  It’s a good, quick read, great for sharing with others and guaranteed to make me smile.  What more could anyone want at Christmas?

Tea talk: I indulged in a whole pot of English Afternoon Tea from St James’ while reading this book and a few other little Christmas books which will be reviewed shortly.  It was rich and mellow and just what I wanted.

Title:

Author: Joyce Stranger

Published: Corgi, 1967, pp. 142.  Originally published 1965

Genre: Young adult fiction

Blurb: The magic is of foxes running wild over the Cumberland hills, of an otter cub adopted by a poacher, of young hounds caught in a badger-run, and of dour, lakeland farmers who hunt on foot and are out-witted and out-run by a vixen and her cubs.  It is the enchantment of a swiftly-passing England, an England of countrymen and stone-walled cottages.  And it is the magic of an era that, in the hills and tarns of Cumberland, has not entirely died.

When, where and why: I can only assume that I acquired this book when I was in the rabid, animal-loving phase that most little girls go through (as opposed to the rabid animal loving phase, which I should imagine fewer experience).  Joyce Stranger wrote loads of good animal stories, but somehow I must have passed this one by.  Clearly it is ancient, and so it becomes book 34/50 for my Books Off the Shelf Challenge.  I picked it up to read now because I needed something light (literally and figuratively) to read on the tube while I was reading Quicksilver.

What I thought: Although The Running Foxes is a children’s book I’m very glad that I unintentionally waited until I was older to read it, as I don’t know that I would have appreciated it so much when I was little.  It is a subtle, quiet book with a relatively sparse storyline, but remarkably touching.  Joyce Stranger has filled her book with the well-created and maintained atmosphere of the fells in a fading era.  The penetrating cold and damp of the morning mist on the hills and the warm, smoky camaraderie of the local pub are almost tangible in The Running Foxes. This simple but magical world is populated by a cast of gruff but good hearted old men whose lives revolve around animals both for work and recreation and who I thoroughly enjoyed following as they hunted over the fells, made bets or came to terms with their loneliness.

As the title suggests, foxes and fox hunting play a large part in this book, and I don’t think I’ve ever encountered a book which managed to address this in quite such a balanced way.  The author admires the foxes for their cunning and trickery, but also admires the men for their dedication to their animals, their country skills and the sense of community that the hunt brings.  Both fox and man seem to enjoy the thrill of the chase.  Of course, it helps that there are no fox killings in the book, but nonetheless it was refreshing to read something which is able to see both points of view and present them alongside one another.

All in all, this was a good, quick read, perfect for the winter.

Where this book goes: I think I’m going to keep this one for now.  According to LibraryThing, it’s the first book in a trilogy about Dai the local vet, so I may be tempted to acquire the other two for when I feel like returning to the Cumberland hills for some escapism.

Tea talk: As this was exclusively a train book, there was no tea with this one.  There definitely should have been though, as all that reading of walks on frosty mornings and coming home to roaring fires called for a pot of tea.

Title:

Author: Gerald Durrell

Published: Fontana, 1971, pp. 220

Genre: Autobiographical wildlife fiction

Blurb: All Gerald Durrell’s books are extremely enjoyable.  My Family and Other Animals is the best, spun from his family’s five-year sojourn, before thewar, when he was in his early teens on Corfu.  In Birds, Beasts and Relatives, returning to the same place, he has done it again…  He effortlessly immerses us in the glittering bays and sun-shined olive groves, teeming with weird astonishments.

Where, when and why: This book was another find from the Winchester Cathedral book stall earlier this month.  I picked it up because I recently read Gerald Durrell’s A Zoo in My Luggage and it reminded me how much I enjoy his writing.  Talking about him when reviewing Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day made me decide to reach for this book now.

What I thought: There are few writers who are as skilled at relating an anecdote as Gerald Durrell.  His writing has a way of capturing the people, animals and situations that he encounters perfectly; reading this book was almost as good as being in Corfu with Durrell and his madcap family.  Reading about the family again was a welcome return after their absense in A Zoo in My Luggage.  As the people that Gerals Durrell knows best, they all have well-developed and entertaining personae within the book and are funny and embarrassing in the way that only family can be.  Seeing them again was a bit like revisiting old friends and I thoroughly enjoyed laughing with them at their own follies.

As always with Gerald Durrell’s writing, the book was a careful balance of human drama and encounters with local wildlife, containing just enough detail to be interesting without being too scientific.  These books are, after all, primarily fun.  However, as excellent as Durrell’s grasp of the anecdote is, they aren’t very well strung together in this book.  As it contains stories which were left out of My Family and Other Animals rather than being a continuation of the novel, there are large time gaps between the events which are related and they are presented in a random order without any thematic or chronological links.  I still enjoyed this book and I would recommend it to anyone else, but I would have preferred the book to have a bit more structure.

Where this book goes: This book joins my other Gerald Durrells on my shelves as they are all perfect quick, light reads for bad days.

Tea talk: This book was accompanied by honeybush tea from Whittards.  I don’t put sugar or milk in my tea, so I tend to favour leaves or blends which are naturally sweet and this one did not disappoint.  Definitely a good tea to perk me up on a chilly, rainy summer day.