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212 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 2017
The Durrells themselves were masters of fabulation. All of the children were great storytellers and embroiderers of tales. They complained about Gerry's My Family and Other Animals - Margo in particular - even as they happily appropriated each other's stories and, where necessary, invented new ones.Margo summed it up when she said, 'I never know what's fact and what's fiction in my family.' And that's how I felt about the book, I don't know either especially with the conversations and conjectures. Quite a lot of it I am familiar with as I read them in Gerald Durrell's entertaining books years ago.
In a somewhat over-flavoured account of his bohemian days in London, Larry described getting together with Nancy: My so called up-bringing was quite an uproar. I have always broked stable when I was unhappy ... I hymned and whored in London - playing jazz in a nightclub, composing jazz songs, working in real estate.Larry wouldn't have said 'real estate', that is a term used in the US, never in the UK, not then, not now. It makes me doubt the veracity of the book. Direct quotes should never be altered by an author or an editor.
We once visited Mrs Durrell and the rest of the family in their home near Corfu Town. We were served a meal outside. Gerald, Lawrence’s youngest brother, was a few years older than me. He seemed to be a very big boy. He ignored me … The Durrells all talked at once, shouting across the table and calling from the kitchen door, behaviour I associated with my Greek cousins but not with English people. At one point a ruckus broke out when someone emptied a kitchen bowl of water into the garden. It had contained Gerald’s tadpoles. Many years later in his book, My Family and Other Animals, Gerald described this scene in fabulously exaggerated terms; the tadpoles had become snakes, flung far and wide amid shrieks of horror. As an adult I enjoyed the book for its entertaining stories, but was offended by the mocking tone towards the Greeks. The Greeks are exuberant, excitable people, full of energy and abundant self confidence. But they are not clowns. Indeed, it had seemed to me that the Durrells had been the clowns.
We visited them quite a few times … The established British community was not comfortable with the Durrells’ bohemian lifestyle. The Durrells were not members of the professional or officer classes, and were certainly not gentry. They were quite unlike any other British people on the islands at that time. They associated with the peasants and villagers in a way that offended both those below and above their station. This is not because the establishment looked down on the villagers. We were genuinely fond of our servants … The villagers had a uniquely Greek sense of pride and bearing that permitted no acknowledgement of inferiority. However, they knew their place. There were many subtle rules that defined just what interactions were appropriate across the social strata. The Durrells did not understand these conventions. They did not fit.
I had heard Mummy's friends talk about degenerates, a term I had not understood, but decided that they must have been referring to people like the Durrells.