It’s the end of the 20th century and my elderly father, who is a violin-maker, has built a microcosmic world. The ark is a floating animal sanctuary, a larder, a breeding-ground, a time-capsule, a social science experiment, a panic-room – and a toybox. It’s a gift for my son , who is three. It has a white cabin complete with portholes, a red roof, and a yellow detachable gangplank. The flat-bottomed hull is yellow, with a line of blue waves to indicate the waterline. It’s unseaworthy, but  doesn...