Customer Reviews

Carnivorous Nights: On the Trail of the Tasmanian Tiger

5 star:		(10)
4 star:		(2)
3 star:		(2)
2 star:		(0)
1 star:		(1)

 

 

Humans have a fantastic ability to destroy. We are in essence the most dangerous animal alive and of living things only microorganisms are able to cause as much or more havoc. Island life forms are the most vulnerable to the human onslaught. Among our numerous disasters, the isolated biota of Australia and Tasmania has heavily felt the result of that attack. Many species are extinct and many more on the edge because of humans and their attendant placental associates like cats, foxes and rabbits.

Margaret Mittelbach and Michael Crewdson, attended by their highly eccentric illustrator Alexis Rockman and his girl friend Dorothy Spears and occasionally others, including several Tasmanian inhabitants, became involved in their hunt for one of the victims of this human invasion, the supposed extinct Tasmanian tiger, and the result is a very eccentric and very interesting book "Carnivorous Nights: On the Trail of the Tasmanian Tiger."

I have to admit that the Tassie tiger intrigues me as well, ever since I saw an old photo of one yawning their impossibly wide yawn. The somewhat dog-like body combined with tiger stripes and huge number of teeth (much like the opossum - its North American relative) makes it a charming animal, despite its reputation as a sheep-killer. Supposedly the last one died in a zoo in Hobart, Tasmania, in 1936, but continued reports of sightings made the tiger legendary. The authors (like some of the people they interview in Tasmania) become totally obsessed with looking for these elusive beasts (and who knows perhaps they will come back from the brink much like the recently rediscovered ivory-billed woodpecker!) The resulting book is well worth the price of admission as it allows us into an almost unknown world of giant crayfish, potoroos, wombats and the very feisty and still extant Tasmanian devil. In the end we are still left with the possibility of the tiger's existence, either in Tasmania or possibly the southern coast of Australia itself. Perhaps it is gone... but then perhaps not.

Unfortunately, finally the reader is left with the distinct perception that much of the wilderness of this part of the world and indeed other parts, including our own (wherever we live), is up for sale. The sign that that extols the value in board feed of a local native tree is a case in point. Many humans tend to know the price of everything and the value of nothing. Unless we change this we may become as dead as the Tasmanian tiger may be!

This book is a good read and at least the reader will get an interesting tour of a very unfamiliar part of the world and its (to us) weird wildlife.

The book is depressing because it's about extinction and endangerment; it's funny because our authors manage to stay optimistic and cheerful in the face of extinction. They have an extremely clear eye for the foibles of humans, as well as for the traits of the animals they see. It takes talented writers to make roadkill amusing; these guys manage it.

If you've ever read Gerald Durrell, then you would find this book similar, both in the attitude toward travel and the observations of native humans. The humor is somewhat similar, too, although of course Durrell's is a bit dated by now. If you read and enjoy this book, then I'd strongly encourage you to go find and read anything you can by Gerald Durrell, especially his earlier books.

Completely by coincidence, during the same week that I read this book, I read a story by Harry Turtledove in a science fiction magazine, and an article in a newspaper about lemurs. Turtledove's story was about an alternate history where the island of Atlantis did not sink, and it has a great deal of unique island wildlife, like Tasmania or Madagascar. The plot of the story was that John James Audubon goes to visit Atlantis to sketch and paint all the endangered wildlife there - because of course, the incursion of man onto the island has endangered most of the species. The story highlights the casual cruelty of 19th-century practices, killing rare animals just to pose and paint them and stuff them for museums; I contrasted that to the care that Mittlebach et al. take not to kill anything, and Alexis' efforts to connect to the animals he is painting by using their bioproducts to make paint. Then the article in a Maine newspaper was about a 14-year old who had saved money since she was 6 years old to go to Madagascar and work on lemur conservation; she accomplished her trip finally, and I felt that the viewpoint of the young generation on the many endangered island animals also added to my appreciation of what the authors of "Carnivorous Nights" were seeing on Tasmania.

The paintings in the book are wonderful; I only could wish some were in color. I have always been fond of wombats, echidnas, and platypodes (or platypuses if you want to simplify it), and have stuffed toys of each (yes, I am half a century old and have a large collection of plush toy marsupials, insectivores, extinct reptiles, and assorted endangered species) and had the fun of meeting an echidna face to face once; it was the short-beaked kind, not the long-beaked one, but still odd enough.

A short "family-reading" alert: while the topic is ideal for kids, there are a few things some parents might object to - assorted unmarried people sharing hotel rooms, more than a few four-letter words, a lot of discussion of blood, gore, and animal parts. I personally don't think there's anything here an 11-year old wouldn't already have met, but your children may vary, and I suspect that more than one 8-year old would have nightmares after the scene about feeding a Tasmanian devil. But definitely, the whole family should get to see the pictures, and get to hear about baby pademelons and Bennett's wallabies!

Science geeks, thylacine fans, travel daydreamers and scat fetishists will love this book. Scrap that. Anyone who enjoys good writing will enjoy this book. The geeks, thyfans, travel nuts and scatologists will just be jealous. The assorted imagery of current Tasmania -- sounds, smells and sweat -- are as appealing as the discriptions of roadkill are not. The tales of the Tasmanian tiger are heartbreaking, not just because I've been like, so totally into this critter since I was like, 8 or something, but because there is no reason whatsoever for said critter to be extinct. The frustration of that, and the urgency and passion of their hunt to add to the lists of sasquatch-esque thylacine sightings are tangible throughout. And the artwork is as poignant as it is gross. Both poignancy and grossness leave goosebumps.

Manditory quibble so I don't sound like a cheerleader: The various puns, often while involving minor fish-out-of-hemisphere tales of New Yorkers in the bush -- not as good as they might have seemed in the rough drafts. But then again, I just wanted more images of Tasmanian devils eating their way, tuchus-first, through various pademelon corpses. I'm single-minded that way.

The final result is, again, a very worthy-of-your-time book. But you'll read it fast, and want more. Might I suggest a follow-up hunt for the Steller's sea cow?

This is a wonderful, original book, and you will want to spend time with Mittelbach and Crewdson long after this book ends. Not only an ode to the mysterious tiger, this thoughtful, hilarious and beautifully researched book takes us to distant corners of Tansmania and the odd creatures, both human and animal, that reside there. Whether the reader is watching Tansmanian devils ransack someone's garbage, entering a bizarre, tiger-themed bar, or listening to Alexis Rockman, the resident artist on the excursion, rhapsodize about wombat scat, he/she will be mesmerized by this vivid world. Buy this book for anyone interested in animals, adventure, strange travel companions, questions of extinction, life and death. In other words, anyone. Carnivorous Nights makes the reader laugh, think, and consider his/her place in the world.

Carnivorous Nights on the Trail of the Tasmanian Tiger follows three New Yorkers, authors Margaret Mittelbach and Michael Crewdson and their artist friend Alexis Rockman as they search for the Thylacine, or Tasmanian Tiger. The thylacine is presumed to have been hunted to extinction with the last known individual dying in Beaumaris zoo in 1936. There have been many sightings since then and many still hold hope the Thylacine persists somewhere on the island of Tasmania.
As you might expect, the trio find little evidence of the Tiger in their travels but provide a lot of information on its natural history and some of the more credible recent sightings. They also spend a lot of time checking out Tasmania's many other non-extinct weird and wonderful animals, and I believe they give a good feel for the general atmosphere on the Island. I read this book a few months prior to my own trip to Tassie and it lead me to visit Marakoopa caves and check out the glow worms, which was really fantastic. As far as an informative and interesting book on the wildlife of Tasmanian goes, it earns five stars.
I had to take two stars off however for what are basically stylistic reasons. Normally this doesn't bother me too much, but in this case it turned what would have been a great book into something that was a bit of an effort to read.

The first problem is that this book intends to be a bit of a wacky-travel-adventure read. That in its self is fine (check out Redmond O'Hanlon's "Into the Heart of Borneo" for a perfect example of how it can work) but the problem here is that we have three Americans traveling in Australia, a first world English speaking country. Let's face it, they don't have any really wacky adventures. In fact the attempt to have wacky adventures seems to distract from the book and dumbs down the text a bit. (see pg. 10 "... we were happy to find out that English was spoken on the island.") Nevertheless the authors try to keep the humor up by making lots and lots of quips. Mostly unfunny quips in my opinion. Most other reviewers found this book funny, and I usually enjoy a humorous travel book (Bill Bryson) but most of this was just off for me. Most of the 'humorous' dialog is attributed to Alexis, which resulted in my wishing about halfway through the book that he'd just keep his mouth shut. But I have to admit I took an early disliking to Alexis due to what was probably the worst part of the "travel adventure" side of the text, his purchase of pot (illegal in Australia as in the US) and his smuggling it around the country. There is something about a tourist abroad willfully committing a crime that is also a crime in his own country that I find really distasteful, and I was sorry to see it treated as a sort of comic aside in this book. To be even handed to poor Alexis, his artwork featured in the book is beautiful and I loved his choice of media.

The second problem and really the worst aspect of the book for me was the narrative voice. Since the book was written by two authors and covered their personal experiences, they opted to refer to themselves as 'WE'. Bad idea. While I can't really offer a better suggestion for two authors to have an equal say in a tale, using 'we' is a bad way to go. At times it was fine, at times it sounded like a married couple, at times it sounded like a olde time king, and at times it sounded like a missive from the Borg. To see how bad it gets one can read the dream sequence on page 118 "That night we dreamed about wombats and feral cats..." Actually I recommend using the search inside function to read a few pages and see whether or not this style will bother you.

A final gripe that is probably worth a third of a star or so is that this book lacks an index, which is probably indicative of its trending to pulpy mass media marketing as opposed to a more intelligent natural history text. And yet it does have a decent set of notes and further reading in the back. While I haven't read any other works by these authors, it feels like they are smart natural history writers lead astray by an editor asking for a dumbed down text in the hope it will have a boarder appeal.

In short, if you have an interest in Tasmania, the Thylacine, or Australia travel in general I can recommend purchasing this book, but I was sorry to see a potentially fantastic book severely damaged by some bad editing decisions.

Carnivorous Nights is a hugely enjoyable read. The authors and their artist pal travel from the museum of natural history in NYC to view rare aboriginal artwork outside of Sydney, Australia, and then on to the wild and strange island of Tasmania---where they encounter screaming Tasmanian devils, baby fairy penguins, creepy cave creatures, and much more. All the while, they keep their eyes peeled for the iconic Tasmanian tiger---which was last seen in 1936. While theoretically extinct, this wolf-like marsupial has been sighted repeatedly, and is the object of awe and lore in Tasmania. Do they still exist, are they extinct, or something in between?

Their search is fun, funny, mysterious, and sometimes poignant. It's a wild adventure for both mind and soul.

Not just another travel or nature book, this is an unexpectedly poignant record of marsupial obsession and a clear-eyed love letter to a natural world that is quickly becoming a thing of the past. The touchstone here is the "Seussian-striped" Thylacine, possibly the most fascinating dog-faced marsupial that ever roamed the earth. From Mole Hill to Pyengana to the River Styx, the intrepid authors and their artist sidekick do a wondrous job of evoking the beer-swilling hogs, dancing Tasmanian Devils, Pademelons, Long-nosed Potoroos and all the other surrealistic flora and fauna they encounter Down Under. And those are just the animals-there are also feral cat assassins, evasive Sapphic tiger hunters, and many more idiosyncratic human specimens along for the ride. Therein lies a clever, engrossing story that mixes excellent and keenly observed nature writing with blood-sucking leech-evading fun in the wilds of the Antipodes. Biology, zoology, cryptozoology, Jack Jumpers, it's all here in the pursuit of the world's largest carnivorous marsupial that probably became extinct not long after the last one in captivity died at the Hobart zoo in 1936. Along with their friend Alexis Rockman, the rascally, foul-mouthed, pot-smoking artist whose beautiful soil, wallaby fur, charcoal and spermaceti drawings serve as illustrations, Crewdson and Mittlebach keep things exciting while also managing to convey the gravity of mass extinction and the destruction of the planet. This is a cautionary tale, but the sadness is alleviated by the quest to unearth beauty and wonder and a genuinely celebratory tone. The fate of the Thylacinus cynocephalus might be its ostensible subject but Carnivorous Nights offers much, much more. It is a testament to an obsession the authors claim they will never shake, and one any sentient being won't be able to either after reading this fine, heartfelt book.

I have spent a lot of time over the years reading science and natural history books, and too many of them are painfully clinical and boring. If one is already fascinated by an animal, one puts up with the writing to get the information. But to grab members of the public who have never heard of many of the species you write about (how many were familiar with spotted quolls or giant crayfish?), and capture their attention and concern - that is a major accomplishment.

I was very impressed by the amount and quality of scientific and historic information that is embedded into this book given its highly readable and entertaining nature. I was also impressed by the objective discussion of conservation issues that many would shy away from - campaigns to kill all feral domestic cats and red foxes? These emotionally charged subjects were handled with lots of fact, perspective and balance, so presumably readers were prompted to think rather than leap to some emotional defense of their prior views.

Given the small amount of recent "scientific" news about tasmanian tigers, the authors do an excellent job of tracking down and presenting anecdotal and historic information about the species that brings it almost to life for us. They also do an excellent job of presenting the Tasmanian tiger story in a larger context of extinction threats to other Tasmanian wildife such as the Tasmanian Devil, and why we should work to save them from a similar fate.

My one quibble - I think the book would benefit by inclusion of a couple of photographs of the Tasmanian Tiger. I rather like Alexis' paintings and find them very evocative, but there is a "reality" to photos that might add an additional punch to the message. The authors do include in the notes a link to the wonderful website "The Thylacine Museum" that includes several videos of the last Tasmanian tigers in captivity in the 1930s and is a must see for anyone interested in the species: [...]

I loved this book, because it was humorous, compelling, and educational. The "team" felt like friends, even the odd but likeable Alex. I found all the information about Tasmanian wild life fascinating. It made me feel differently about that little corner of the world. This is way to learn about the background of the Tasmanian tiger and many other creatures. It sure beats reading a dry 'academic' tome on the subject.

This book is a wonderful celebration of wildlife--what's lost and what still survives--in a beautiful and strange part of the world. But what makes Carnivorous Nights great is the oddball voice of its narrators.

While appalled by the destructive forces that pushed the Tasmanian tiger to the edge of extinction, the authors manage to find beauty and humor in the amazing creatures--and people--that still populate this far-flung island.

The illustrations are black-and-white watercolors of Tasmania's animals. And they're like ghostly photos of a long-lost world.

This book really stuck with me, and made me want to travel to Tasmania.