I started this book a little tentatively, and only partly because I wasn’t entirely sure about ‘a book about talking animals’. Mainly it was because, for reasons that will become apparent to anyone who reads it, I really, really wanted to like it, and I knew I was in a hypercritical mood.
I don’t know why I was worried, though. As someone who already knows Michael Wombat’s writing from his various blogs and from Twitter, I should have had more confidence that his warmth and charm, and his assured style would shine through.
So, first, the Watership Down question. I’m not sure I’m the best person to refute this one, since it’s so long since I read Watership Down that I’m not even sure I have read it, or if I just vaguely remember the film. But certainly, in as far as you can trust my distinctly rusty memory on anything, you can trust me that Warren Peace is not a Watership Down rip-off. Naturally there are parallels. Many of the key characters are rabbits and their warren is threatened, but in the average life of a rabbit it’s difficult to imagine anything else happening that would upset them enough to provide any kind of dramatic tension. It would probably be for the best if you pushed all Watership Down related thoughts to the back of your mind and supressed them ruthlessly.
And secondly, some warnings. If you’re just going to get picky the moment foxes turn up in a pack, this book is probably not for you . . . although I would generally be that picky person, and I’m glad I had a reason to persevere beyond my misgivings. Likewise, if you prefer your talking animals cute and fluffy and if at all possible partially clothed, possibly better to give this a miss. These are rabbits that kick and bite . . . and, when occasion permits, wriggle their bottoms suggestively.
And finally, the positive bit. I’ve told you why not to read this book. If, on the other hand, you want to be amused and entertained, teased and charmed, by a writer with a beautiful ear for accents, a sly humour, and a fascinating line on the mysticism of cats, then I thoroughly recommend giving this a try.
Best moment? Malley’s mangled rallying speech, which left me genuinely unsure whether I wanted to laugh or cry or just burst with vicarious pride.