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Nature's Spokesman: M. Krishnan and Indian Wildlife
M. Krishnan (1913-86) was a naturalist known for his prose style, his learning, and his astonishingly wide range of interests. For nearly 60 years he wrote columns, essays, sketches, and jeremiads on the ecology and culture of the subcontinent. As a chronicler of the natural world Krishnan was
unequalled, yet his work is to be found, for the most part, only in old and inaccessible newspapers and magazines. This collection showcases some of his finest essays, on large mammals, little creatures, nature in temples and folklore, nature's desecration and its conservation. It also contains a
lovely cricket story and some essays on the history of Tamil poetry, and the editor provides a biographical introduction.
unequalled, yet his work is to be found, for the most part, only in old and inaccessible newspapers and magazines. This collection showcases some of his finest essays, on large mammals, little creatures, nature in temples and folklore, nature's desecration and its conservation. It also contains a
lovely cricket story and some essays on the history of Tamil poetry, and the editor provides a biographical introduction.
302 pages, Paperback
First published November 30, 2000
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130 people want to read
About the author
M. Krishnan
14 books8 followersMadhaviah Krishnan (30 June 1912 – 18 February 1996), better known as M. Krishnan, was a pioneering Indian wildlife photographer, writer and naturalist.
M. Krishnan was born in Tirunelveli on 30 June 1912 and was the youngest of eight siblings. His father was a Tamil writer and reformer A. Madhaviah ( A. Madhaviah) who worked with the Salt and Abkari Department of the Government of Madras.
Krishnan studied in the Hindu High School and developed an interest in literature, art and nature. His family lived in Mylapore, and in those days it was covered in shrub and teemed with bird life, jackals and blackbucks. Krishnan even had a pet mongoose. In 1927 Krishnan joined the Presidency College and graduated with a BA in 1931. He also took a keen interest in botany, taught by Professor P. F. Fyson. He accompanied Fyson on field trips to the Nilgiris and the Kodaikanal hills and also acquired watercolour painting techniques from Professor Fyson's wife.
He initially wrote in several Tamil magazines. In 1942, he was offered employment by the Maharaja of Sandur near Bellary in Karnataka. Krishnan took up this position and the works he undertook included being a schoolteacher, judge, publicity officer and a political secretary to the Maharaja. He spent a lot of his time wandering in the wilderness, observing nature, tried grazing sheep, breeding pigeons to work in a pigeon postal system and writing. His essays on wildlife photography were published in The Illustrated Weekly of India in a series entitled Wildlife Photographers Diary. He also wrote in The Hindu by the pen-name of Z. In the Sunday Statesman he wrote under his own name.
In 1949, Sandur was unified in the Indian republic. From 1950 he wrote a bi-weekly column in The Statesman of Calcutta called 'Country Notebook'. In this column he wrote about various aspects of natural history. This column continued for 46 years, from 1950 to 18 February 1996, the day he died.
Along with his whimsical prose, poetry and drawing he used photography as another tool for expression. He worked only with black and white film. His equipment was, according to naturalist E. P. Gee, 'a large, composite affair, with the body of one make and a tele lens of another, and other parts and accessories all ingeniously mounted together by himself. I cannot swear that I saw proverbial bootlace used to fix them all together, but I am sure there must have been some wire and hoop somewhere!' He called his equipment the Super Ponderosa. Krishnan was a not a big fan of technological advances and was unimpressed by the display of India's first jet aircraft. He declared them as mechanical, chemical and inhuman and was impressed more by the living muscular speed of animals... and if you want to see something sustained in its effortless, rhythmic impetuosity, you should watch a herd of blackbuck going all out for a few miles-there is tangible, real speed for you.
Krishnan was awarded the Padma Shri by the Indian government in 1960 for his work and the prestigious Jawaharlal Nehru Fellowship in 1968. His birth centenary in 2012, was commemorated by the Madras Naturalists' Society, Prakriti Foundation and the IIT Wildlife Club. The Madras Naturalists' Society which featured most of Krishnan's writings in their journal Blackbuck in the 1990s gives away the "M. Krishnan Memorial Nature Writing Award" annually.
M. Krishnan was born in Tirunelveli on 30 June 1912 and was the youngest of eight siblings. His father was a Tamil writer and reformer A. Madhaviah ( A. Madhaviah) who worked with the Salt and Abkari Department of the Government of Madras.
Krishnan studied in the Hindu High School and developed an interest in literature, art and nature. His family lived in Mylapore, and in those days it was covered in shrub and teemed with bird life, jackals and blackbucks. Krishnan even had a pet mongoose. In 1927 Krishnan joined the Presidency College and graduated with a BA in 1931. He also took a keen interest in botany, taught by Professor P. F. Fyson. He accompanied Fyson on field trips to the Nilgiris and the Kodaikanal hills and also acquired watercolour painting techniques from Professor Fyson's wife.
He initially wrote in several Tamil magazines. In 1942, he was offered employment by the Maharaja of Sandur near Bellary in Karnataka. Krishnan took up this position and the works he undertook included being a schoolteacher, judge, publicity officer and a political secretary to the Maharaja. He spent a lot of his time wandering in the wilderness, observing nature, tried grazing sheep, breeding pigeons to work in a pigeon postal system and writing. His essays on wildlife photography were published in The Illustrated Weekly of India in a series entitled Wildlife Photographers Diary. He also wrote in The Hindu by the pen-name of Z. In the Sunday Statesman he wrote under his own name.
In 1949, Sandur was unified in the Indian republic. From 1950 he wrote a bi-weekly column in The Statesman of Calcutta called 'Country Notebook'. In this column he wrote about various aspects of natural history. This column continued for 46 years, from 1950 to 18 February 1996, the day he died.
Along with his whimsical prose, poetry and drawing he used photography as another tool for expression. He worked only with black and white film. His equipment was, according to naturalist E. P. Gee, 'a large, composite affair, with the body of one make and a tele lens of another, and other parts and accessories all ingeniously mounted together by himself. I cannot swear that I saw proverbial bootlace used to fix them all together, but I am sure there must have been some wire and hoop somewhere!' He called his equipment the Super Ponderosa. Krishnan was a not a big fan of technological advances and was unimpressed by the display of India's first jet aircraft. He declared them as mechanical, chemical and inhuman and was impressed more by the living muscular speed of animals... and if you want to see something sustained in its effortless, rhythmic impetuosity, you should watch a herd of blackbuck going all out for a few miles-there is tangible, real speed for you.
Krishnan was awarded the Padma Shri by the Indian government in 1960 for his work and the prestigious Jawaharlal Nehru Fellowship in 1968. His birth centenary in 2012, was commemorated by the Madras Naturalists' Society, Prakriti Foundation and the IIT Wildlife Club. The Madras Naturalists' Society which featured most of Krishnan's writings in their journal Blackbuck in the 1990s gives away the "M. Krishnan Memorial Nature Writing Award" annually.
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Displaying 1 - 4 of 4 reviews
July 21, 2023
M Krishnan was a polymath: a naturalist, a photographer, an artist. A man deeply interested in Tamil literature (and well-versed in English literature as well). A cricketer. A humorist.
Many of these traits of Krishnan’s come through in Nature’s Spokesman, a collection of essays collated from Krishnan’s writings for newspapers across nearly six decades, beginning in the late 30s and continuing till the mid-90s. Most of these essays are quite short, given that they were originally written for newspapers, but nearly all are vastly interesting. They are divided into various sections, all except the last section being devoted to the flora and fauna of India (with an emphasis on that of southern India). There are sections on Krishnan’s encounters with wild animals, and with domestic ones; some intriguing insights into which species Hanuman or Garuda or other animals in Hindu mythology might be; and his opinions on the state of wildlife conservation in India. Interspersed with these essays are some delightful verses by Krishnan (on animals), accompanied by his own illustrations. The last section consists of pieces on non-nature topics: a couple of amusing cricket stories; on Tamil literature; and an essay on Tamil poets of yore, especially in the context of their laudatory verses and their ‘abusive verses’!
This was delightful, informative, interesting reading. Not only does the collection offer an insight into wildlife conservation and the state of Indian flora and fauna across the decades, it offers a telling glimpse into the mind of an immensely interesting personality. M Krishnan comes across as an insatiably curious person: not just a nature-lover, but an individual inherently eager to learn more about things around him, whether it’s literature or science or how people live. He’s humorous at times, often in a self-deprecating way, and at times scathingly unforgiving.
Ramachandra Guha’s foreword to the book is good, especially since it helps introduce Krishnan to readers who may not have known about him (Yes. Me, too). Sadly, none of Krishnan’s photos are part of the book.
One thing I kept wishing for, was a sort of afterword from perhaps a contemporary expert on India’s wildlife: some end note, so to say, on Krishnan’s essays. There are lots of essays here talking about what might happen to this species or that; how this forest is on the brink of decimation, or that species looks about ready to go extinct—but the essays are often several decades old. A note that might say what change, if any, has happened, might have helped put these essays in perspective in the current day scenario.
Many of these traits of Krishnan’s come through in Nature’s Spokesman, a collection of essays collated from Krishnan’s writings for newspapers across nearly six decades, beginning in the late 30s and continuing till the mid-90s. Most of these essays are quite short, given that they were originally written for newspapers, but nearly all are vastly interesting. They are divided into various sections, all except the last section being devoted to the flora and fauna of India (with an emphasis on that of southern India). There are sections on Krishnan’s encounters with wild animals, and with domestic ones; some intriguing insights into which species Hanuman or Garuda or other animals in Hindu mythology might be; and his opinions on the state of wildlife conservation in India. Interspersed with these essays are some delightful verses by Krishnan (on animals), accompanied by his own illustrations. The last section consists of pieces on non-nature topics: a couple of amusing cricket stories; on Tamil literature; and an essay on Tamil poets of yore, especially in the context of their laudatory verses and their ‘abusive verses’!
This was delightful, informative, interesting reading. Not only does the collection offer an insight into wildlife conservation and the state of Indian flora and fauna across the decades, it offers a telling glimpse into the mind of an immensely interesting personality. M Krishnan comes across as an insatiably curious person: not just a nature-lover, but an individual inherently eager to learn more about things around him, whether it’s literature or science or how people live. He’s humorous at times, often in a self-deprecating way, and at times scathingly unforgiving.
Ramachandra Guha’s foreword to the book is good, especially since it helps introduce Krishnan to readers who may not have known about him (Yes. Me, too). Sadly, none of Krishnan’s photos are part of the book.
One thing I kept wishing for, was a sort of afterword from perhaps a contemporary expert on India’s wildlife: some end note, so to say, on Krishnan’s essays. There are lots of essays here talking about what might happen to this species or that; how this forest is on the brink of decimation, or that species looks about ready to go extinct—but the essays are often several decades old. A note that might say what change, if any, has happened, might have helped put these essays in perspective in the current day scenario.
September 27, 2012
One of the best books on the nature and various other stuffs from India. We have seen or read of similar thing from other parts of hte world in NGC or Discovery, I had never come across any writings on Indian forests and indegenous flora and fauna. He was Steve Irwin of India. What makes this stand out is the humour in the prose, of a person who is wonderstuck and is amused at the vividness of the nature that encapsulates him.
October 19, 2017
Do I dare to give a less-than-glowing review of M Krishnan's writing? He was such an outstanding and prolific writer of carefully crafted essays; one of the few who wrote so much about nature in India... the wild, the domestic, the rare, the commonplace. He wrote with such authority that the word author gains a direct emphasis, he wrote with such wit and attitude that the reader is never far away from his persona, and he brought his eye for detail and his penchant for a carefully turned phrase into each essay. This book brings together a selection of his essays, chosen by Ramachandra Guha (who has also written a nice introduction about the author and his work). A great collection, surely.
Yet, there is just that little something missing in Krishnan's writing. I will find the words to describe it one of these days. Not today.
Yet, there is just that little something missing in Krishnan's writing. I will find the words to describe it one of these days. Not today.
September 22, 2015
Krishnan.. an enigma in writing.. almost seems to make no effort and merely states what he observes in nature. But somehow one enjoys his short experience bursts. Guess its a result of compiling from newspaper columns
Displaying 1 - 4 of 4 reviews