Will Cuppy was one of the great humourists and remains too little known. This is one of his classic 'how to' books, examining curious creatures whose habits - and often whose mere existence - seem to have distubred him, as well as the more mundane creatures like the Frog, the Gnat and the Moa, which have no visible vices but whose virtues are truly awful. Roaming the length and breadth of the animal kingdom, Cuppy neatly classes his observations for easy Problem Mammals, Pleasures of Pond Life, Birds Who Can't Sing and Know It. Included with fifty shorter pieces are longer mediatations like 'The Poet and the Nautilus,' 'Swan-Upping, Indeed!' and 'How to Swat a Fly,' which codifies the essentials of this simple activity in ten hilarious principles. All of this is accompanied by some charming illustrations. But (of course) the seat of honour is occupied by the Wombat, the nocturnal star of three essays. Whether sleeping in Rossetti's silver epergne or tunnelling under the lawn, the Wombat never fails to fascinate Cuppy, clearly supplying him an alter ego from the animal kingdom.
This was Cuppy's third book of complaints about animals. It is mostly about mammals, but also gets into amphibians, birds, insects, worms, Greek poets, and practically everything else. It is rich in empirical science, such as, "A decapitated salamander cannot make quick decisions," and philosophical insights, such as, "Intelligence is the capacity to know what we are doing and instinct is just instinct. The results are about the same." And even aesthetics: "The wart hog is often called the ugliest of all animals but the rhinoceros is uglier because he is larger and there is more of him to be ugly."
There is a section titled “Problem Mammals” but Cuppy seemed to have had problems with all the animals in this book, including “birds who can’t even fly” and “birds who can’t sing and know it.” And wombats, of course. “Are wombats people?” he asks, rhetorically. Because animals are, after all, only human. Three whole chapters are devoted to wombats but I can’t say they offer any useful advice on attracting them. No matter. After reading the three chapters you won’t even want to attract them!
Some people have accused Cuppy of making up things. I have never found any proof of this, but where did he get the factoid on page 116, that a snail can do the hundred yard dash in thirty hours flat? Can’t help wondering about that one!
Very funny. Cuppy-strength funny. One does not need to be a wombat fancier to enjoy this book, which is lavishly and delightfully illustrated by Ed Nofziger.
Delightful (and scrupulously researched) essays about wildlife, written by a hermit who lived in New York City. Most were originally published in The Saturday Evening Post and The New Yorker.
"Baby Pelicans are simply awful. The female Pelican feeds them on predigested fish served in her pouch. When they become too greedy and noisy and generally unbearable, she closes her bill and hits them on the head with it, so that baby Pelicans are always staggering about in a dazed condition, squalling for more fish and getting whammed on the head again. As the force of such blows is hard to judge, little accidents occur from time to time. That's a risk you have to take. Moral: It's a great life, if you like fish."
I got a lot of weird looks while reading this on the El.
This is an amusing book on the wombat and other types of insects and animals with clever observations and anecdotes. It's a perfect little distraction from the insanity of the world.
Short, little essays anthropomorphizing various animals with a deadpan humor that sneaks up behind you. It's like music to my eyes to read an author who can actually write. Cuppy's command of the English language is a treat and will leave you wondering why you're laughing so hard. I'd classify his style as early deadpan British humor if he wasn't a New Yorker. A great "bathroom book" or travel companion - anytime you could use a quick laugh.
This is the perfect collection of essays to keep in the bathroom, and read one or two every time you drop in.(1) The author has extensively researched a wild variety of animals(2), and provides a fact-based commentary on a their habits, traits, and reproductive habits.(3) After reading this book, you may completely rethink what sort of animal might make the a perfect pet.(4) This, I suppose, is what passes for entertainment in certain circles. If you're in those circles, this book is for you.
(1) If you're a fan of humorous footnotes, you're in for a real treat! (2) Not just the wombat. Also some insects, amphibians, and ... well, just go read the book. (3) I'm not sure why he cares why scorpions get together even though they all look appalling. (4) I bet you've never even considered getting a pet wombat.
I found these humorous essays better than Cuppy's book about historical figures (The Decline and Fall of Practically Everybody)—but less enjoyable than How to Be a Hermit. Good for light reading, especially if you want something that can mostly be consumed in short bites.
If you're the type who reads P.G. Wodehouse, I'd give this author a try.
Not my very favorite Cuppy; this one comes across as the odds and ends of his animal research. But dang! Any Cuppy is better than a sharp stick in the eye!