Owl

176 Pages·2009·8.15 MB·English

by  Desmond Morris

Owl
Animal
Series editor: Jonathan Burt
Crow Cat Spider
Boria Sax Katharine M. Rogers Katja and Sergiusz Michalski
Ant Peacock Pig
Charlotte Sleigh Christine E. Jackson Brett Mizelle
Tortoise Cow Lion
Peter Young Hannah Velten Deirdre Jackson
Cockroach Swan Camel
Marion Copeland Peter Young Robert Irwin
Dog Shark Chicken
Susan McHugh Dean Crawford Annie Potts
Oyster Rhinoceros Wolf
Rebecca Stott Kelly Enright Gary Marvin
Bear Moose Butterfly
Robert E. Bieder Kevin Jackson Matthew Brower
Bee Duck Sheep
Claire Preston Victoria de Rijke Philip Armstrong
Rat Horse Octopus
Jonathan Burt Elaine Walker Helen Tiffin
Snake Elephant Flea
Drake Stutesman Daniel Wylie Karin Barton
Falcon Eel Giraffe
Helen Macdonald Richard Schweid Mark Williams
Whale Ape Jellyfish
Joe Roman John Sorenson Animal
Parrot Snail Beetle
Paul Carter Peter Williams Adam Dodd
Tiger Pigeon Donkey
Susie Green Barbara Allen Jill Bough
Salmon Bat
Peter Coates Forthcoming Judith Halberstam
Fox Penguin
Martin Wallen Stephen Martin
Fly Hare
Steven Connor Simon Carnell
Owl
Desmond Morris
REAKTION BOOKS
Published by
REAKTION BOOKS LTD
33 Great Sutton Street
London EC1V 0DX, UK
www.reaktionbooks.co.uk
First published 2009
Copyright © Desmond Morris 2009
All rights reserved No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or
transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or
otherwise without the prior permission of the publishers.
Page references in the Photo Acknowledgements and
Index match the printed edition of this book.
Printed and bound in China British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data Morris, Desmond.
Owl. – (Animal)
1. Owls.
2. Owls in literature.
3. Owls in art.
I. Title II. Series 598.9’7-DC22
eISBN: 9781861897107
Contents
Introduction
1 Prehistoric Owls
2 Ancient Owls
3 Medicinal Owls
4 Symbolic Owls
5 Emblematic Owls
6 Literary Owls
7 Tribal Owls
8 Owls and Artists
9 Typical Owls
10 Unusual Owls
Timeline
Appendix: Classification of Owls
References
Bibliography
Associations and Websites
Photo Acknowledgements
Index
The White Owl, a portrait of the barn owl by Eleazar Albin in 1731. The iconic shape of the owl has been a
joy for illustrators for centuries.
Introduction
The owl is a contradiction. It is the best known of birds and the least known of
birds. Ask anyone, even a small child, to draw an owl and they will do so
without hesitation. Ask them when they last saw an owl and they will pause,
think hard and then say they can’t remember. As a picture in a book – yes; as a
bird in a documentary – probably; as a cage inmate in a zoo – possibly. But
TV
when did they last see a live owl in the wild, in its natural state? That is a
different matter.
How has this contradiction arisen? It is easy enough to understand why we so
rarely encounter a live owl, for it is a shy night predator with silent flight. Unless
we went out of our way to spot one and made organized nocturnal forays with
special equipment, we would have little chance of coming face to face with one.
It is harder to understand why we are so familiar with its appearance, if we see
so little of it. The answer lies in its unique head shape. Like human beings the
owl has a wide, rounded head, with a flat face and a pair of large, wide-set,
staring eyes. This gives it an unusually human quality that no other bird can
match and in ancient times it was sometimes referred to as the human-headed
bird. We call ourselves Homo sapiens, meaning ‘wise man’ and because the owl
has a human-looking head we refer to it as a ‘wise old bird’. In reality an owl is
not as wise as a crow or a parrot, but we think of it as wise simply because of its
superficial resemblance to us.
A child’s-eye view: Wise Owl, Sad Owl,
Angry Owl by Matilda, age 10, ink and
pencil on paper, 2008.
It is this humanoid stare that makes us feel we know the owl. And it is the
broad head and the big, forward-facing eyes that make it impossible for us to
look at an owl and not feel that we are in the presence of a deep-thinking avian
relative. This makes us, at the same time, rather sentimental about owls and
rather scared of them. If they are so wise and yet they only come out at dead of
night, perhaps they are up to no good? Like burglars they stalk their prey when
their victims are at their most vulnerable. Like vampires they only draw blood
when the sun has gone down. Perhaps, instead of wisdom, there might be
something evil about the owl?
When we examine the history of our relationship with owls we find that it has,
indeed, frequently been a symbol of both wisdom and evil. Wise or wicked,
wicked or wise, the image of the owl keeps altering. For several thousand years
these two iconic values have kept swapping and changing. Another of the
contradictory qualities of the much misunderstood owl.
In this book I want to examine both these roles, and others too. For the evil
owl can suddenly change into a protective owl if its imagined violence can be
harnessed and turned against our enemies. In India it has also been seen as a
vehicle for a goddess, swooping down from the sky, and in Europe, by some, as
a symbol of obstinacy and by others as an emblem of calm in the face of extreme
provocation. In the twenty-first century, when we are at last coming to
appreciate the wild fauna of our planet and worry about its dramatic decline, we
are also keen to understand the fascinating biology of the owl.
A Bestiary Owl, 12th century.
So there are many owls to be examined here: the wise owl, the evil owl, the
protective owl, the transporting owl, the obstinate owl, the calm owl and the
natural owl. And there have been many different epochs and cultures in which
our interest in owls has led to a fascinating collection of myths, legends and
artefacts, all dominated by the owls’ hypnotic stare.
On a personal note, from my days as a zoo curator I have known many captive
owls, and during the days when I was travelling around making television
programmes about animal life, I met many more. But if I am honest, I have –
like you, I suspect – met very few owls in the wild, in their natural habitats.
There was, however, one memorable encounter that I still recall vividly in every
detail, even though it took place over sixty years ago, when I was at boarding
school. I had wandered off into the countryside near the school one summer’s
afternoon, and saw something strange in the corner of a field. I approached
slowly and silently because I could see that it was some kind of bird, standing
immobile on the ground. As I drew closer, it still did not move. Then, when I
was about ten feet away from it, I realized with a sudden jolt of recognition that
it was a blood-covered, severely injured owl. It must have been shot, caught up
in a trap, entangled in some sort of sharp wiring, or hit by a car in the night. Its
injuries were horrific and it was clearly dying slowly and in great pain. It was
beyond veterinary help. What was I to do?
As there was no hope of saving it, my choice of action was deeply unpleasant.
The easy option was to leave it alone, but this would mean that I was
condemning it to die in agony. On the other hand, if I killed it, I would be
putting it out of its misery, but this would require me to perform a violent act
against a helpless victim and to destroy a magnificent bird. As a small schoolboy
I found it hard to choose. I looked at the owl and the owl looked at me, its large