Charles Waterton 1782 1865 And His Eccentric Taxidermy

Charles Waterton (1782-1865) n a true English eccentric, ironically self-styled 'the most commonplace of men'. He talked to insects, fought with snakes, rode an alligator and lived like a monk. He was made famous in his own lifetime by publication of hiswide-ranging travels and natural history observations - always fun, often perceptive, and unfailingly individual. One of his more notable contributions to science was the introduction into Europe of curare, now an invaluable drug in surgical operations. He turned his family estate into an extensive nature reserve; long before such things were heard of, and threw open his gates to the local populace as long as they understood that birds and animals had security of tenure. Waterton wrote three volumes of Essays on Natural History and the best-selling Wanderings in South America, which has never been out of print since the first publication in 1825. He was a fearsome satirist and pamphleteer, attacking prominent figures of his day both with his powerful penand with his taxidermy skills. His simple charm made a mockery of all those enemies who tried to capitalise on his human failings. Unlike previous biographies, this book is an unabashed celebration of his eccentricity, a fond salute to a fine old Englishgentleman. In the centenary year of the Canadian national park which is named after him, the life of Charles Waterton should encourage the preservation of what remains of his kind of world, and remind us of what the world has lost to insensitivity and greed.

During his lifetime Charles Waterton was famous for his eccentricities, but also for his achievements and his opinions. A Yorkshire landowner, he was a notable Victorian figure who turned his park into an animal and bird sanctuary. He was an explorer of tropical rain forests in South America and became an authority on the poisons used by the South American Indians. He was also a taxidermist and published many books, numbering Darwin, Dickens and Roosevelt among his readers. Above all, he was a conservationist who fought to protect nature against the destruction and pollution of Victorian industrialization.

"From 1782 to 1865 there lived, mainly at Walton Hall in the county of Yorkshire in England, a man whose name was Charles Waterton. He was the Last Great Eccentric. Squire Waterton was also a farmer, a naturalist, and such a traveler as only an Englishman can be. His whole life made a pattern of odd adventure, some of whose highlights were his encounters with a boa constrictor, which he disposed of by a punch to the jaw; with a crocodile, which he rode up and down the Essequibo River; and with an unfortunate donkey. which he first poisoned experimentally with curare and then revived by means of a bellows..." -- Book Jacket.

Taxidermy and the Gothic: The Horror of Still Life is the first extended study of the Gothic’s collusion with taxidermy. It tells the story of the emergence in the long nineteenth century of the twin golden ages of the Gothic genre and the practice of taxidermy, and their shared rhetorical and narratological strategies, anxieties, and sensibilities. It follows the thread into twentieth- and twenty-first-century culture, including recent horror film, fiction, television, and visual arts to argue that the Gothic and taxidermy are two discursive bodies, stuffed and stitched together. Moving beyond the well-worn path that treats taxidermy as a sentimental art or art of mourning, this book takes readers down a new dark trail, finding an overlooked but rich tradition in the Gothic that aligns it with the affective and corporeal work of horror and the unsettling aesthetics, experiences, and pleasures that come with it. Over the course of four chapters, it argues that in addition to entwined origins, taxidermy’s uncanny appearance in Gothic and horror texts is a driving force in generating fear. For taxidermy embodies the phenomenological horror of stuckness, of being there. In sum, taxidermy’s imbrication with the Gothic is more than skin deep: these are rich discourses stuffed by affinities for corporeal transgressions, the uncanny, and the counterfeit.

At the intersection of hunting and conservation, a man shares his personal journey from staunch anti-hunter to compassionate, ethical hunter, weaving together a larger history of humans, animals, the environment, and our food systems. The Shotgun Conservationist doesn’t teach us how to hunt, it explores why we should hunt. As public lands remain imperiled, factory farms pollute the earth and subject animals to inhumane conditions, and global uncertainty presses us all to be more self-sufficient, there has never been a better time to take up hunting. Writer, natural historian, and public speaker Brant MacDuff has done just that. An avid animal lover and raised as a non-hunter, MacDuff started his journey intending to investigate the claim that “hunting is conservation.” So convinced, he now holds a hunting license in four states and gives lectures on the positive impact it has on conservation efforts nationwide. Armed with years of experience in the field and a deep love for the natural world, MacDuff tells the provocative, humorous, and insightful story of how he became a hunter. Along the way, readers meet a cast of colorful characters and learn the firsthand research that helped change Brant’s mind. You may not book a hunting trip after reading The Shotgun Conservationist, but you’ll have a new perspective on and appreciation for those that do.

The concept of eccentricity was central to how people in the 19th century understood their world. This book explores how, from the turn of the century, discourses of eccentricity were established to make sense of individuals who did not seem to fit within an increasingly organized social and economic order.