{"id":6820,"date":"2014-10-29T10:49:35","date_gmt":"2014-10-29T10:49:35","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.eoisabi.org\/?p=6820"},"modified":"2026-04-03T19:31:17","modified_gmt":"2026-04-03T19:31:17","slug":"gerald-durrell","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/englishroam.com\/?p=6820","title":{"rendered":"Gerald Durrell"},"content":{"rendered":"

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\u203e<\/p>\n

\u2190Click to read.<\/p>\n

\u00a4\u00a0My Family and Other Animals<\/strong><\/em>\u00a0is an\u00a0autobiographical\u00a0work by naturalist\u00a0Gerald Durrell<\/strong>\u00a0(1925 – 1995)\u00a0telling of the part of his childhood he spent on the\u00a0Greek\u00a0island of\u00a0Corfu\u00a0between 1935-39. It describes the life of the\u00a0Durrell family\u00a0there in a humorous manner, and also richly discusses the fauna of the island.<\/p>\n

Durrell had already written several successful books about his trips collecting animals in the wild for\u00a0zoos\u00a0when\u00a0My Family and Other Animals<\/em>\u00a0came out in\u00a01956. Its comic exaggeration of the foibles of his family \u2014 especially his eldest brother, novelist\u00a0Lawrence Durrell<\/a>\u2014 and heartfelt appreciation of the natural world made it very successful. It launched Durrell’s career as owner of the Jersey Zoological Park<\/a> (now\u00a0Durrell Wildlife Park<\/a>) in the\u00a0Channel Islands [click sculpture on the right for info]<\/p>\n

IT’S A LARGE<\/strong> FAMILY!<\/p>\n

Apart from Gerald<\/strong> (the youngest) and\u00a0Larry<\/strong>, the family comprised their widowed\u00a0mother<\/strong>, the gun-mad Leslie<\/strong>, and\u00a0diet-obsessed sister\u00a0Margo<\/strong>\u00a0together with Roger<\/strong> the dog. They are fiercely protected by their taxi-driver friend Spiro<\/strong> (Spiros \u00abAmericano\u00bb Halikiopoulos) and mentored by the\u00a0polymath\u00a0Dr.\u00a0Theodore Stephanides<\/strong>\u00a0who provides Gerald with his education in\u00a0natural history. Other human characters, chiefly eccentric, include Gerald’s private\u00a0tutors, the artistic and literary visitors Larry invites to stay, and the local\u00a0peasants\u00a0who befriend the family.<\/p>\n

The human comedy is interspersed by descriptions of the animal life which Gerald observes on his expeditions around the family homes, island, and seashore and which he frequently brings back and keeps as pets; these include Achilles<\/strong> the\u00a0tortoise, Quasimodo<\/strong> the\u00a0pigeon, Ulysses<\/strong> the\u00a0Scops owl, numerous\u00a0spiders, Alecko<\/strong> the gull, puppies named Widdle<\/strong> and Puke<\/strong>, and the birds known as the Magenpies<\/strong>. \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0[Wikipedia]<\/em><\/p>\n

\u2022\u00a0 Listen & read <\/strong>\u00a0PART ONE \u2193\u00a0 Chapter 1 … 6<\/h6>\n

The Migration 5
\n1. The Unsuspected Isle 8
\n2. The Strawberry-Pink Villa 15
\n3. The Rose-Beetle Man 22
\n4. A Bushel of Learning 31
\n5. A Treasure of Spiders 38
\n6. The Sweet Spring 47
\nConversation<\/p>\n

\u00a4 \u00a0The Migration<\/h6>\n

July had been blown out like a candle by a biting wind that ushered in a\u00a0leaden August sky. A sharp, stinging drizzle fell, billowing into opaque grey sheets when the wind caught it. Along the Bournemouth sea-front the beach-huts turned blank wooden faces towards a greeny-grey, froth-chained sea that leapt eagerly at the cement bulwark of the shore. The gulls had been tumbled inland over the town, and they now drifted above the house-tops on taut wings, whining peevishly. It was the sort of weather calculated to try anyone’s endurance.<\/p>\n

Considered as a group my family was not a very prepossessing sight that afternoon, for the weather had brought with it the usual selection of ills to which we were prone. For me, lying on the floor, labelling my collection of shells, it had brought catarrh, pouring it into my skull like cement, so that I was forced to breath stertorously through open mouth. For my brother Leslie, hunched dark and glowering by the fire, it had inflamed the convolutions of his ears so that they bled delicately but persistently. To my sister Margo it had delivered a fresh dappling of acne spots to a face that was already blotched like a red veil. For my\u00a0mother there was a rich, bubbling cold, and a twinge of rheumatism to season it.<\/p>\n

Only my eldest brother, Larry, was untouched, but it was sufficient that he was irritated by our failings.<\/p>\n

It was Larry, of course, who started it. The rest of us felt too apathetic to think of anything except our own ills, but Larry was designed by Providence to go through life like a small, blond firework, exploding ideas in other people’s minds, and then curling up with cat-like unctuousness and refusing to take any blame for the consequences. He had become increasingly irritable as the afternoon wore on. At length, glancing moodily round the room, he decided to attack Mother, as being the obvious cause of the trouble.<\/p>\n

\u00abWhy do we stand this bloody climate? \u00bb he asked suddenly, making a\u00a0gesture towards the rain-distorted window. \u00abLook at it! And, if it comes to that, look at us…. Margo swollen up like a plate of scarlet porridge… Leslie wandering around with fourteen fathoms of cotton wool in each ear… Gerry sounds as though he’s had a cleft palate from birth…. And look at you: you’re looking more decrepit and hag-ridden every day. \u00bb<\/p>\n

Mother peered over the top of a large volume entitled Easy Recipes from Rajputana.\u00a0\u00abIndeed I’m not, \u00bb she said indignantly.<\/p>\n

\u00abYou \u00a0are, \u00bb Larry insisted; \u00abyou’re beginning to look like an Irish\u00a0washerwoman… and your family looks like a series of illustrations from a medical encyclopedia. \u00bb<\/p>\n

Mother could think of no really crushing reply to this, so she contented\u00a0herself with a glare before retreating once more behind her book.<\/p>\n

\u00abWhat we need is sunshine, \u00bb Larry continued; \u00abdon’t you agree, Les?…<\/p>\n

Les… Les! \u00bb<\/p>\n

Leslie unravelled a large quantity of cotton-wool from one ear.\u00a0\u00abWhat d’you say? \u00bb he asked.<\/p>\n

\u00abThere you are! \u00bb said Larry, turning triumphantly to Mother, \u00abit’s\u00a0become a major operation to hold a conversation with him. I ask you, what a position to be in! One brother can’t hear what you say, and the other one can’t be understood. Really, it’s time something was done. I can’t be expected to produce deathless prose in an atmosphere of gloom and eucalyptus. \u00bb<\/p>\n

\u00abYes, dear, \u00bb said Mother vaguely.<\/p>\n

\u00abWhat we all need, \u00bb said Larry, getting into his stride again, \u00abis sunshine… a country where we can grow. \u00bb<\/p>\n

\u00abYes, dear, that would be nice, \u00bb agreed Mother, not really listening.<\/p>\n

\u00abI had a letter from George this morning \u2013 he says Corfu’s wonderful.\u00a0Why don’t we pack up and go to Greece? \u00bb<\/p>\n

\u00abVery well, dear, if you like, \u00bb said Mother unguardedly.<\/p>\n

Where Larry was concerned she was generally very careful not to commit herself.<\/p>\n

\u00abWhen? \u00bb asked Larry, rather surprised at this cooperation.<\/p>\n

Mother, perceiving that she had made a tactical error, cautiously lowered Easy Recipes from Rajputana.<\/p>\n

\u00abWell, I think it would be a sensible idea if you were to go on ahead, dear, and arrange things. Then you can write and tell me if it’s nice, and we all can follow, \u00bb she said cleverly.<\/p>\n

Larry gave her a withering look.\u00a0\u00abYou said that when I suggested going to Spain, \u00bb he reminded her, \u00aband I sat for two interminable months in Seville, waiting for you to come out, while you did nothing except write me massive letters about drains and drinkingwater, as though I was the Town Clerk or something. No, if we’re going to Greece, let’s all go together. \u00bb<\/p>\n

\u00abYou do exaggerate, Larry, \u00bb said Mother plaintively; \u00abanyway, I can’t go just like that. I have to arrange something about this house. \u00bb<\/p>\n

\u00abArrange? Arrange what, for heaven’s sake? Sell it. \u00bb<\/p>\n

\u00abI can’t do that, dear, \u00bb said Mother, shocked.<\/p>\n

\u00abWhy not? \u00bb<\/p>\n

\u00abBut I’ve only just bought it. \u00bb<\/p>\n

\u00abSell it while it’s still untarnished, then. \u00bb<\/p>\n

\u00abDon’t be ridiculous, dear, \u00bb said Mother firmly; \u00abthat’s quite out of the question. It would be madness. \u00bb<\/p>\n

So we sold the house and fled from the gloom of the English summer, like a flock of migrating swallows.<\/p>\n

We all travelled light, taking with us only what we considered to be the\u00a0bare essentials of life. When we opened our luggage for Customs inspection, the contents of our bags were a fair indication of character and interests. Thus Margo’s luggage contained a multitude of diaphanous garments, three books on slimming, and a regiment of small bottles each containing some elixir guaranteed to cure acne. Leslie’s case held a couple of roll-top pullovers and a pair of trousers which were wrapped round two revolvers, an air-pistol, a book\u00a0called Be Your Own Gunsmith, and a large bottle of oil that leaked. Larry was accompanied by two trunks of books and a brief-case containing his clothes.<\/p>\n

Mother’s luggage was sensibly divided between clothes and various volumes on cooking and gardening. I travelled with only those items that I thought necessary to relieve the tedium of a long journey: four books on natural history, a butterfly net, a dog, and a jam-jar full of caterpillars all in imminent danger of turning into chrysalides. Thus, by our standards fully equipped, we left the clammy shores of England \u00a0. \u00a0. \u00a0.<\/p>\n