Giraffe

by J.M. Ledgard, Ineke Willems (Translator)

Als in 1975 in een nacht in een Tsjecho-Slowaakse dierentuin 49 giraffes op last van het communistische regime worden doodgeschoten, maakt dat veel indruk op uiteenlopende betrokkenen.

Genres: Fiction, Historical Fiction, Animals, Novels, Book Club, Audiobook, Literature

267 pages, Hardcover

First published January 1, 2006

Reviews

[David · Rating 2 out of 5]

This book is based on a true story about a herd of giraffes, brought to a Czechoslovakian zoo in the 1970's, who subsequently became ill and had to be euthanized. The author obviously wanted to use this incident to illustrate some point of his own, but for the life of me I couldn't really figure out what he was trying to get at. The general critical reception seems to have been favorable. For instance, Nicholas Royle, writing for The Independent delivers himself of this gem (they should take away his reviewing licence):

"I'm going to stick my neck out and call it a masterpiece."

Alex Gibbons, of the New Statesman, is a bit more cautious, calling it "a work of obvious passion and great skill". Which suggests to that maybe Alex didn't quite know what to make of it.

I wanted to like this book more (because, you know, giraffes). But its oddness, and the author's tendency to engage in vague meanderings, reminiscent of Kundera on a bad day, made me not like it all that much.

[Unbridled · Rating 1 out of 5]

Overall, there is nothing inherently wrong with the prose, though I must admit to scoffing early when he described an "azure" sky and the color of blood as "crimson." The prose can be mannered, superficial, and cold, which is probably the author's intent – use of the monochrome to evoke numb and dreamy characters wandering through a sterile, meager, Communist state (never heard that one before!). There were many small things I did not like: like the four or five first person voices (including a giraffe), all of which sounded like the same narrator; or the psychic gypsy lady scene (unintentionally laughable); or amateurish dream sequences (literary onanism); none of this is drastically offensive. But there's something else, something invasive, like an acrid odor, which I can only approach obliquely: I think the book means to be a novel, desperately wants to be a novel, does its best impression of a novel, but, in the end, feels like an "inauthentic" novel – as if it is instead the palimpsest of another kind of writer, not a novelist, the etchings over what was once a novel, now lost. The author, as I would learn in the dust jacket, is a journalist – and lo, behold my answer. Once I learned the book was based upon a "true story" (also from the dust jacket), it became difficult to finish the book – not because I knew what would happen but because the writer was better suited to reporting this story as straight journalism rather than imagining the unknowns into fiction. Am I suggesting a journalist cannot make a good novelist? Of course not. But what I am suggesting, is that not every kind of professional writer makes a good novelist.

[Lindsey · Rating 5 out of 5]

he beauty of this book is in its details: the elongated pages, the specifics of the characters' lives, and the realism of the setting, but the imaginative prose, so gorgeous in places that it brought tears to my eyes, is what makes it such an astounding novel. The story is at once a novel about animal rights, a meditation on captivity, a political vehicle, and a poem, the intricate themes woven by the distinct voices of several narrators, including a giraffe. The introduction of new narrators was often ingenious, with the dream sequences of one character blending into the waking thoughts of someone new. Amina's voice was particularly compelling in exploring Ledgard's idea of a population of sleepwalkers ready to accept anything without question, without choices to do otherwise, and her dream sequences were breathtaking. I also really loved the first chapter narrated by Jiri, a sharpshooter, and I loved Emil's constant references to fairy tale, folklore, and innocence. Ledgard is uncovering a mystery of the true story behind the slaying of the world's largest captive herd of giraffes, but more than that, he is unveiling the lives of those living behind the Iron Curtain of communist Czechoslovakia. You sleepwalk through the novel, right along with the characters, until a conclusion so extremely graphic as to be truly traumatic for the reader. I would caution readers who are sensitive to violence or animal cruelty to find another novel, although for myself the prose throughout the rest of the novel made it worth the upsetting end.

[Ericka Seidemann · Rating 4 out of 5]

I stumbled on this book  by accident. It was on a table at our local library sale, and the title caught my eye, so I picked it up. That cover! Astonishing! I had no idea what I was in for.

Whenever I describe the topic of this book to others, I am immediately treated with responses of rebuke or disgust. "I'm not reading that! That's awful!" But I encourage you to look beyond the ghastliness of the subject matter. I don't want you to miss out on the experience of the beauty of this book. I am completely ambivalent. I almost wish I had not read it so that I could have remained unaware of this brutality, and yet, I feel like everyone should read it.

Giraffe is a fictionalized, almost journalistic, account of an incident in the 1970s in Czechoslovakia. The largest herd of giraffes ever held in captivity was intentionally slaughtered, though the political reasons are dubious and inconclusive. The author presents the story through the eyes of the different unwilling participants in this drama: a scientist, a female factory worker drawn to the beauty of the giraffes, even the leader of the giraffes, called Snehuka, "Snow White," for the whiteness of her unspotted belly.

This book is beautiful and horrifying, honest and without sentimentality. The writing is superb. If you can brave the subject matter, you will feel honored for having borne witness to the story.

[Emi Yoshida · Rating 2 out of 5]

Based on the fact that the author is a writer for The Economist and The Atlantic and my recent obsession with NY Times writer books, I figured I would love this book. It's based on an actual real life mystery, one that has to do with a bunch of giraffes; how totally cool is that, right?? But oh, no, I did not go for this book. I get the comparisons to Kundera, but reading this I felt like the only sober person at a rave. Basically I just found it exhausting. I wanted to get to the point, I wanted to find out what happened to the giraffes, and I just got fed up with the writer's detail about stuff not germaine to the topic and kind of overwrought with artistry maybe? I feel bad ragging on what is obviously a phenomenal job of journalistic detective work, but I just lost patience with it. I did absolutely love the last fifty pages of it, I guess I just wish it were written as a short instead of a novel.

[Amanda]

Finally!! I encountered this book in the bookstore and then forgot any other details about it except that it sounded fascinating. I kept google searching "giraffe massacre" but couldn't find it. Today the search worked, which must mean I got my memories mixed up and have been searching "elephant massacre" or maybe "alligator massacre" all this time. :-p Glad to be able to put it on my reading list. P.S. I don't intend to read the kindle edition.

[Annie · Rating 3 out of 5]

This book is so fucked up that when I tell people the plot they think I'm telling them about a dream I had.

It is disturbing. It gave me nightmares so vivid that I swore off books for 2 weeks.

You should still read it. I have vivid dreams anyway, so it may not have just been the book.

Really, this is a bizarre little story that is neat to have hidden away in a corner of your brain.

[Alicia Pérez Helguera · Rating 4 out of 5]

Como corresponsal para el Economist en Europa Central, J M Ledgard, periodista escocés, leyó por casualidad una escueta noticia en un periódico checo sobre la primera filmación del nacimiento de una jirafa. El artículo aseguraba que la grabación desapareció de los archivos de la televisora estatal después de que la policía secreta eliminara a todas las jirafas del zoológico. Tiempo después, en un pub de Bohemia, un antiguo policía secreto confirmó a Ledgard la noticia y le aseguró que la matanza seguía siendo secreto de estado. Mientras en Afganistán Ledgard se afanaba en vano tras la pista de Osama bin Laden, comenzó a escribir su primera novela: Giraffe. “Deseaba descifrar los hechos, pero más aún los sentimientos”, declaró en una entrevista realizada por Penguin Group. “Busqué a los involucrados, encargados del zoológico, veterinarios, antiguos oficiales de la policía secreta, carniceros, disidentes y especialistas en guerra-biológica”.

Giraffe es la historia verdadera de un experimento del estado totalitario que en 1975 terminó en tragedia cuando la manada más grande de jirafas en cautiverio fue exterminada en la República Socialista de Checoslovaquia por órdenes del Politburo.
La captura y transportación desde África, así como la intensión de criar una subespecie a la que llamaría Camelopardallis Bohémica fue una utopía del ideal socialista, en cuyo espíritu prevalecía la ambición por producir en masa lo que fuera, “…our socialist mind is good for breeding”, salvo libertad.

El ‘momento comunista’, como lo llaman los protagonistas, sirve a Ledgard para construir el ánimo regente de una nación que conmueve desde el sufrimiento. No únicamente a raíz de la ocupación nazi, sino a partir de hechos históricos que desde el pasado atormentan a su gente, como fue la peste de 1713, la guerra de los treinta años y las guerras napoleónicas. El autor se sirve del fenómeno del sonambulismo de Amina, una joven obrera, en una nación de obreros, para elaborar la parálisis del individuo. Consciente de la pandemia Amina afirma: “This is a country of sleepwalkers by day, who drink by night only as a lesser form of sleepwalking”; y sobre la mentalidad cautiva asegura: “I know a cage is something which admits air and light, but no escape”. Emil, protagonista de la elegía, es especialista en hemodinámica, una rama de la física dedicada al estudio del flujo sanguíneo en animales verticales. Snĕhurca, la jirafa líder de la manada, narra su nacimiento en África lo que añade al texto una tono fabular. El nombre de Snĕhurca que en checo quiere decir Blanca Nieves, impone al lector el reto de encontrar a los siete enanos del reparto. Asimismo, tanto por el carácter pastoril, “I step off the beanstalk onto the land, which is made of clouds – is a cloudscape, not a landscape”; como por el fantástico, la obra detenta gran fuerza lírica, “Blood is not open to the sky, it’s journey is a hidden flow, is without light…”.

Conviene aguzar el oído para percibir las resonancias históricas que con sutileza quirúrgica provoca el autor. Compelido a aportar imágenes de holocaustos, exterminios, ocupaciones y cautiverios de bestias y hombres, el lector se convierte en coautor. La “Solución Final” que impuso a los nazis una logística complicada, subyace entre otros funestos momentos del pasado, cuando el exterminio de animales de entre 800 y 1600 kg presenta sombrías dificultades al personal del zoológico.

Por ser una metáfora lúcida del absurdo, Giraffe es una gema rara, despiadada en la denuncia de la falibilidad de un sistema totalitario y profunda en la contemplación de una búsqueda espiritual. —The communist moment does not demand that I love it, or be awake to it. It asks only that I do not question it —dice Amina.

Si el ojo de la jirafa es el más grande en el reino animal y la pasividad, un cariz del mal, hechos que Ledgard enfatiza a lo largo de la novela, “…a giraffe sees the present before any other animal”: ¿en qué convertirán las nuevas generaciones la caída de la Cortina de Hierro?

In memoriam M H Thatcher

[Marty · Rating 3 out of 5]

I had a very mixed reaction to this book. The plot is an interesting one: it's based on a real event: the killing of a large herd of giraffes in a Czechoslovakian zoo in the mid 1970's. The reason for this slaughter has never completely been revealed. Even with this premise, the first half of this book was a chore to read. I'm all for setting the stage for a drama, but that drama seemed to be unnecessarily long in developing here. The story shifts back and forth between a young hematologist, a young female factory worker, a forester and a laboratory scientist, as well as workers in a slaughterhouse. Even the largest female giraffe, called Snehurka, is briefly given a voice. The problem is that most of the human characters aren't terribly fleshed out. Worse yet, they spend their time discussing, indirectly and ponderously, how Communism isn't all it's cracked up to be - in short, beating an already very dead horse. The novel improves once the problem of disease among the giraffes arises. The pace picks up and the tension level rises quickly, which is why I don't consider this book to be a complete loss. I'll be interested to read Ledgard's newest novel to see how it compares.

[M. Sarki · Rating 2 out of 5]

Hard to say much of anything about this novel. Perhaps I should mention the great amount of blood, the violence done to innocent animals, the lives spent as a pathetic worker in a communist country. Orders given and initiated. The only comparison to Sebald I might make is the denial present in the people responsible for carrying out their orders and those subjected to these harsh realities. Part of the European condition that Sebald so adroitly and mechanically insists upon on nearly every page. But this book in no way measures up to Sebaldian prose. I am not sure why it was even written. Gratuitous massacres do not impress on me anything but disgust for those who must. And the endgame for me results in a further reckoning that the fiction behind it all is best served as only a skilled Cormac can.

[Meg · Rating 4 out of 5]

I was almost dreading reading this book after seeing all the reviews of it on this site. I'm glad I toughed it out; I really liked it! Yes, it does center around a brutal and perhaps unnecessary tragedy. So don't read this novel if you're only interested in happy endings. If, however, you are able to handle gritty reality (which seems even that much grittier, that much more real behind the Iron Curtain), then I strongly recommend this book. The prose was beautiful, poetic even, though becoming appropriately more straightforward and clinical at the climax. I especially liked its air of oral tradition and story-telling, and the myths, dreams, and memories peppered throughout.

[Sarah · Rating 4 out of 5]

I read this because giraffes are currently my favorite animal. The book starts with the point of view of Snehurka (Snow White), a giraffe, who is plucked from her native lands to be relocated to a zoo in Eastern Europe. The book then proceeds to tell us why a group of over thirty (maybe forty?) giraffes were slaughtered. It's tragic, but fascinating. And it's based on the actual slaughter of the giraffes, and the reasons, as far as the author could find, are what really happened.

[Isa K. · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is one of my favorite books. I read it just before I moved to the Czech Republic in fact so it's a part of my warm and fuzzy memories of that time. Essentially it's a tale of innocence lost in Czechoslovakia at a time when the ruling Soviets would find an excuse to destroy anything that gave common people a sense of uniqueness and joy outside of the party. Based on a true story, the characters are fictional I believe but the giraffes and what ultimately happened to them is true.

[Kathryn · Rating 3 out of 5]

Poetic and moving, but also heartbreaking. I love how it portrays the beauty and majesty of life in all its forms, and the nobility of the quiet giraffe. I really enjoyed how it is narrated from different perspectives (of animals and people). It just left me wishing that everyone in the book could read everyone else's chapters and understand one another better. An incredibly moving story, and very sad.

[in8 · Rating 5 out of 5]

great read, I discuss it at the bottom of this dispatch
http://5cense.com/EA/Eth_Tigray.htm

[Tabitha · Rating 2 out of 5]

"Communist moment"

[Kelly · Rating 2 out of 5]

The book is based the tragic slaughter of a herd of giraffes at a Czechoslovakian zoo in the 1970’s, but the first three quarters of the book were not about the giraffes as much as just intense melancholy. It’s lonely people, bleak communism, and so much talk about Czechoslovakia being a windless, landlocked country without access to an ocean that I almost started to feel claustrophobic. Then the giraffes are killed, chapter after chapter, because the author tells the story from multiple viewpoints. The end.

[Stephanie · Rating 3 out of 5]

The novel Giraffe by J.M. Ledgard is gorgeously written, and opens one's eyes to a lesser-known story of massacre. This book really made me wonder about the role animals play in our cultural, political and economic landscape. (SPOILER) For example, when the infected Giraffes had to be exterminated, one of the reasons behind this decision was that the infection could have spread to the cattle, which would halt meat and milk production. It is fascinating to me how rash decisions like the Giraffe massacre revolve around the mass production of meat, which involves animal slaughter anyhow.
Ledgard uses a lot of repeated imagery, such as religious symbolism, in order to convey a deeper meaning to the story. Although this is a strong literary device, he sometimes spends too much time using repeated imagery, that may detract from the plot as a whole.
For a while, I didn't think that the story had much of a plot, because it consisted of a series of inner thoughts, descriptions, and personal anecdotes; I found there wasn't enough interaction between the characters. However, the plot started to build towards the end, where it got very intense indeed.
Overall, this book was a fascinating read that exposed me to events I had not previously known about. The plot was very slow paced, but the writing style was elegant and interesting to read.

[Bella (Kiki) · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is a beautiful, but mournfully dreamy and elegiac book in which a herd of giraffes serves as a metaphor for life in Czechoslovakia when Czechoslovakia was known as the ČSSR. (It is, however, according to its author, a true story.)

GIRAFFE is a book filled with symbolism and metaphor, and Ledgard has chosen the sad, and ultimately horrific import, from Africa to Czechoslovakia of a large herd of giraffes, the largest herd ever to be held in captivity, as his central metaphor, so of course, the external story of GIRAFFE is very different on its surface from the book’s internal journey, although its aesthetic journey is perfectly suited to both its external and internal journeys.

The importation of the giraffes occurs sometime in 1975, as the Dvur Králové Zoo was planning to populate a large safari park. More than thirty giraffes were imported from Africa, and, as Ledgard tells us they were an immediate “contrivance to make workers forgetful of the monotony of their lives.”

The opening pages of GIRAFFE are narrated by Sněhurka, a beautiful, white-bellied giraffe who narrates her own birth on the Kenyan savannah. (Sněhurka means “snow white” in Czech.) Because of the book’s opening, I thought this was going to be a book narrated by an animal, but that was not to be, at least not for more than a few pages, and personally, I was a little disappointed in that.

Emil Freymann and Amina Dvorakova are the two principal narrators of GIRAFFE. Emil, who has lived a life of privilege, was named after the hero of a famous German children’s book, “Emil and the Detectives.” Professionally, he’s a hemodynamicist: someone who studies the flow of blood in vertical beings. It is Emil who accompanies the giraffes from Hamburg to Czechoslovakia, and, because of his profession, he finds them a wonder of natural selection because of the way the blood flows from their powerful bodies up their graceful necks.

Amina Dvorakova, who is not related to the famous composer, is also attracted to the giraffes, but for a more personal reason than Emil. Amina works in a factory that manufactures Christmas tree ornaments, and after she sees the arrival of the giraffes in Czechoslovakia, she becomes fascinated with their grace and beauty and goes to watch them every day after work. Amina finds a kindred soul in the giraffes, for like her they sleepwalk through life. (Giraffes don’t sleep; however, they rest, with their eyes open, and Amina imagines she does the same.)

Although Emil, Amina, and several other minor characters narrate GIRAFFE, and even though their stories sometimes overlap, the characters very rarely come into contact with one another. This was to highlight, I think the isolation the Czech people suffered under Soviet rule. I’m not sure. However, GIRAFFE does describe the Czech people as people who “plough their own furrow of despair in the concrete.” The displaced giraffes must feel as much despair and isolation, after their removal from the African savannah as the Czech do under a totalitarian regime.

It’s not a spoiler to tell you that in the end, forty-seven of these beautiful, dreamy giraffes, twenty-three of whom are pregnant, are slaughtered on the night of April 30, 1975. We learn this during the opening pages of the book. That makes this a very sad book to read. Tragic, because it’s so easy to fall in love with giraffes. When I was young and taken to the zoo each summer, the giraffes were the first, and sometimes the only animal I wanted to see. Tall and blonde, graceful and quiet, they look so vulnerable and peaceful with their beautiful, sad eyes, though they are very strong, stronger even than wild horses. (I picked this book up while browsing in the bookshop simply because of its cover, a painting of a gorgeous giraffe I have to assume is Sněhurka. I never walk by a book with a portrait of a giraffe on the cover. I fell in love with giraffes the first time I saw one at about age four.)

The horrible and horrifying climax of this book (we learn this in the opening pages) sees both Emil and Amina participating in the destruction of the giraffes as their beautiful bodies are ground into food for cattle. The reader is left with the question of why this terrible event had to happen. We’re given a few hints of what might have triggered it, but since all official documents pertaining to the destruction of the giraffes have been destroyed, Ledgard can’t give us any firm answer. Were the giraffes infected with a dangerous contagion? Were they simply so beautiful and free that the Czech regime was afraid the people would desire the same freedom? It’s left up to each reader to decide for himself or herself why this tragedy happened.

Ledgard chose well when he chose the slaughter of the giraffes as a metaphor for life in Czechoslovakia in the mid-1970s. Everything works beautifully and gracefully. What didn’t work as well for me were the comparisons Ledgard seems to draw between the slaughter of the giraffes and the crucifixion of Christ. I just didn’t see the connection there. Maybe the problem is with me rather than with the book. I just don’t know.

Ledgard’s writing is perfect for the this book. It’s as dreamy and beautiful and lyrical as the giraffes, themselves. And, it has a mournful tone throughout that is perfectly in keeping with the book’s tragic end.

Even though I just didn’t understand the connection between the destruction of the giraffes and the crucifixion of Christ (although both were innocents, ostensibly sacrificed for a greater good), my lack of understanding didn’t ruin the book for me at all. I think it accomplished what it set out to accomplish, so it was a five-star read for me. I don’t recommend this book to many others, though. Only those who appreciate a book in which much is symbolic and much is left open to the imagination will be able to tolerate GIRAFFE. If you’re that kind of reader, this is a book for you. If you’re not, best to simply move on to something less dreamy and more concrete. This is a book that will stay with me for a very, very long time.

[Mathijs Beaujean · Rating 3 out of 5]

On the basis that this book was "OK", I should give it only two stars. But seeing as on a normal 5-star system the third star is the one that is only barely positive: three stars.

Why this mediocre rating?
The story in itself is a nice one. Even though I was expecting the outcome from the first chapter (but that's just me being a veterinarian and familiar with the 'red line' in South Africa), I was still motivated to read to the end of the book. Barely.
The problem with this book is the quasy intellectual meanderings of the writer. The metaphors are so obvious and numerous that it forced me to shut down those parts of my brain (created by those evil teachers in high school) from analyzing them and thereby grinding the pace of the story to a halt.
I do not like forcing parts of my brain to shut down.

If you need a book to analyze for a literature class I can highly recommend it. Otherwise I would only suggest you read this if interested in the Sovjet era, or interested in the history of One Health.

[Susan · Rating 3 out of 5]

This was a tough book to finish; not because it lacked beauty, or purpose, or simplicity. In truth, it was difficult for me to finish this book because of the ending. Once I saw where it was headed, the little kid in me wanted to set aside the book while both giraffes and humans continued on in somewhat blissful communist 1975 Czechoslovakia. Yet I didn’t. The story was too compelling.

All the descriptive language was made up of elegant, simple lines. From the portrait in words of the giraffes to the description of work in a Czechoslovakian Christmas ornament factory, there was beauty throughout this book. I especially enjoyed Amina, a young woman orphaned when her parents died in a vehicle accident, she lives alone and is a sleep-walker, traipsing about at night through snow and rain, often waking up with grass stains on feet and clothes. If you feel up to a beautiful tragedy, then this could be a good read for you.

[Mbgirl · Rating 3 out of 5]

This book was too terribly sad for me. The details which are not spared by Ledgard in their execution (specifically Snehurka’s) made me have to put down the book... several times. The fact that half were pregnant also very much reminds me of the very prescient debate regarding abortion today, and what constitutes life and a baby.

In the end, I believe that having worked for the Economist, Ledgard, spurred by the uncovering of this state secret of the 70’s, wanted to weave a tale of fiction in which so many different characters (didn’t care for so many and couldn’t invest in their story) could symbolize the Czech people collectively—- Amina the somnambulist was notable there.

Nothing keeps me from biting back tears more than the symbolism of this herd from West Germany to a city NE of Praha... a community killed physically and in spirit with the ideologies of Communism.

And they didn’t need to be shot and killed—- that line toward the last few pages of the book....

[Lisa Carlson · Rating 5 out of 5]

The reason I'm drawn to J.M. Ledgard's writing is not only the use of multiple narratives, beautiful command of the language but it's also his journalistic background. While I read his second novel Submergence first this
novel gives the reader the same sustained euphoric feeling using a true story to lay the foundation this time. The story of the largest herd of Giraffes held in captivity in Czechoslovakia and their sudden death. True animal lovers will appreciate the wonderful opening and we are guided through the story by several other human characters which illuminate a country, a time and a lifestyle uniquely rich in simplicity and verve. It's just under 300 pages and as with anything Ledgard writes the reader will be moved in ways they never imagined. Bravo!

[Cat · Rating 3 out of 5]

Overall, I think this book is pretty good.

Ledgard tells this story through the narratives of several different characters. Many of them are interesting and relatable.

He devotes about a third of the book to the character, Emil. Unfortunately, I had a difficult time following Emil's thought process...like someone with ADD. That coupled with my need to warm up to the language that Ledgard uses made the first one hundred pages a bit of a struggle.

Also, I feel like Ledgard assumes his readers already have a basic knowledge of Czechoslovakia, both historical as well as geographical. Until the events of the story were able to settle into one location, I felt lost.

[Kathleen (itpdx) · Rating 4 out of 5]

Haunting. This is a fictional account of a true incident. A large number of giraffes were captured and transported to a zoo in a small Czechoslovakian town in the early 70's during the "Communist moment". Later they were slaughtered under the direction of the secret police. The book is told from the view points of a number of the people who came in contact with the silent giraffes. It is like a mood piece. There is a lot of symbolism in the book. And I am sure I missed most of it.

I would have liked a companion essay about the author's journey of finding the people involved and what he learned from them.

[Alex · Rating 4 out of 5]

i picked this up at the library because i was intrigued by the cover. it ended up being a remarkable read. the plot is a fictional account of true events-- giraffes are taken from africa to a soviet state's zoo to create "the largest captive herd in the world." it weaves back and forth between several points-of-view (including that of the giraffes!) it's somewhat depressing (as would be any story that ends the way it does) but it is very moving, thought-provoking, metaphorically rich and a good read.

[Raven · Rating 3 out of 5]

In 1975 the worlds largest captive herd of Giraffes was destroyed. This novel follows the giraffes from when they were captured to their final destination in Czechoslovakia.

This actually happened and knowing that it makes it quite a depressing story to read. It's also told through the eyes of several characters (all real characters) including one of the giraffes, which I think is what drew me to it in the first place. I found the style of it a bit hard to read sometimes but all in all it was pretty good, depressing but good

[Bobby · Rating 4 out of 5]

Based on actual events that took place in Communist-era Czechoslovakia, Ledgard recounts the journey, influence, and ultimate demise of the largest captive giraffe herd in the world. Told through various narrators, including the giraffes themselves, the events and perspectives begin to overlap and weave an intricate web of all those involved. Overall, it is an enchanting story of the uniqueness of these animals and how they impact a population who is forced to live in a standardized world.

[Eric · Rating 4 out of 5]

Brilliant story. Fascinating characters, and the way the story was told from all the different characters' points of view. The historical context, the way the characters all revolve around each other, popping up in each other's narratives of the goings on, and the snippets from the literary references, Great Expectations most notably, gave the whole story depth and made it a very easy read.

[Nooilforpacifists · Rating 5 out of 5]

Others have said it: astounding. Based on a true story, and as neat an allegory for the disease that is Communism, the book relies on startling shifts of narrative perspective to tell the story of 32 African giraffes imported to Czechoslovakia in the mid-1970s. They lifted at least two spirits in the workers paradise, but the animals ultimately were treated just like the rest of the workers.