These are halcyon days as the children have outstanding freedom in their
unaccompanied travels: Gerry potters about in his boat; Margo swans off to the
mainland; Leslie wanders the countryside with guns; Larry invites complete strangers
to come and stay at their villa.
Gerald Durrell has a highly evocative way of writing that makes the
countryside sound divine, and there are Homeric epithets in his descriptions of
the sea. When he writes of the approaching seasons, his naturalist’s eye
combines with his rustic poeticism and, as always, his main preoccupation is
zoological. “For me, spring was one of the best times, for all the animal life
of the island was astir and the air full of hope.”
He is keen to amass more creatures for his ever-growing menagerie, but
he knows that certain members the family (particularly Larry), do not like his
animal collection so he tries to get Mother and Margo on side, and they often
feel sorry for abandoned animals. One of the peasants, wanting to get rid of unwanted
puppies, buries them alive, by which fact Mother is understandably outraged.
She exclaims, “These peasants! I can’t understand how they can be so cruel.”
The Greeks are examined almost as another species, which can be uncomfortably
racist to a modern reader. Margo has many affairs of the heart, but always with
Greeks rather than English boys (friends of Larry’s), saying of the local
peasant boys, “They’re so handsome and so sweet. They all sing so well. They have
such nice manners. They play the guitar. Give me one of them instead of an
Englishman any day.” On the subject of changing attitudes with time, the family
are remarkably accepting of potential paedophilia, commenting of a guest, Colonel
Velvit, “Since his retirement his one interest in life was the local Scout
troop and, while there were those unkind enough to say that his interest in
Scouts was not entirely altruistic, he worked hard and had certainly never yet
been caught.”
Mother accepts all the guests and offers outstanding hospitality, even
to horrible or boring people, warning Margo, “We’ve never done anything nasty
to anyone that’s stayed with us – I mean, except as a joke or by accident – and
we’re not going to start.” One visitor friend of Larry’s believes he can
levitate and keeps trying, invariably falling through the trellis
Gerry embellishes stories for comic effect, and sees them through a boy’s
eyes, but some of the details are harrowing, such as when a Turk visits them (at
Margo’s invitation) with three wives, aiming to make Margo his fourth.
They live in a weird limbo land without news of the outside world
because, “we did not have the dubious benefits of a wireless and so, for the
most part, lived in a state of blissful ignorance.” Part of this lack of ‘outside
interference’ means they have to rely upon themselves for entertainment, and
they do so with spectacular results. Gerry’s descriptions of the food, drink
and company at these events are exquisite, and his depictions of a bygone era
are sumptuous and appealing. He paints pictures with words that inspired a
generation to travel and take an interest in nature. Some of the attitudes are
outdated, but if he instils a sense of conservationism, they can be excused as
the results of age. It’s tough to farewell these tales of childhood on an
island paradise.
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