Our ancient ancestors were familiar with the animals that shared
their surroundings: some were used as food; some were threatening; and others
were of little consequence. As we moved from a hunter-gatherer culture to an agrarian
one, we began to domesticate animals that could be used as food; a means of providing
transport; as an aid to our hunting; or for companionship as pets. During this
process we began to anthropomorphise and earlier folklore about animals became
increasingly humanised.
In modem times (over the past several millennia) we explored
areas of the World that were distant, and the development of trade brought many
imports of plants and animals that we could grow, or rear, for food (this was something that
occupied the mind of Frank Buckland and others in Victorian times [1]). Creatures could also be for ornament and pleasure (think peacocks, for example). The anthropomorphic interest
became highly developed when we discovered apes and, while our dogs had long
been considered “honorary humans”, apes looked a bit like us and had a wide
range of expressions and habits with which we could identify: for example, Chimps
Tea Parties (extended to advertisements for brands of tea) were held in
zoological gardens for our amusement, although this practice has now thankfully
disappeared.
In addition to their capture for zoos, there was, and is
still, a profitable market in capturing baby apes (often after killing their
protective mothers) and these are traded to those who want this type of “baby”
to live with them – Michael Jackson’s “Bubbles” being a good example (see below,
showing Bubbles with Mr Jackson in one of his early identities). Of course, the
cute babies grow into powerful, and potentially dangerous adults, and then they
must be taken to a centre that can look after them, a return to the wild being out
of the question unless the apes can be trained at “schools” to teach them how
to survive before their release into their natural habitat.
A well-known case of an ape that was humanised is that of
John the Gorilla. He lived with Alyse Cunningham in Sloane Street in London and
his story is recounted by E Ray Lankester in his popular Great and Small
Things [2]. He describes how John (see below) was traded from Gabon by a
French officer who sold him to a London dealer in July 1918, and from whom he
was acquired by Major Rupert Penny (Ms Cunningham’s nephew). John came to live in
Sloane Street in December 1918 and Ms Cunningham describes his life there [3]:
I was getting to like John, and to
take a great interest in him. I fed him, washed his hands, face and feet twice
a day, and brushed and combed his hair – which he would try and do himself whenever
he got hold of the brush or comb. He soon got to like all this. My next idea
was to teach him to be strictly clean in his habits..
..we took him out of his cage and
allowed him the freedom of the house. Thereafter he would run upstairs to the
bathroom of his own accord, turning the door knob of whichever room he was in
and also opening the door of the bathroom..
..John loved to have people come
to see him in his home.. ..Whenever people came to see him, he would show off
like a child. It was his custom to take them by the hand and lead them round
and round the room. If he saw that a person was at all nervous about him, he
loved running past them, and give them a smack on the leg – and you could see
him grin as he did so..
..His table manners were really
very good. He always sat at the table, and whenever a meal was ready, would
pull his own chair up to his place.. ..He always took afternoon tea – of which
he was very fond – and a thin piece of bread with plenty of jam; and he always
liked coffee after dinner..
..He was especially fond on my
little niece, three years old, who loved to come with her father to stay. John
and she used to play together for hours and he seemed to understand what she
wanted him to do.
An excellent illustration of the two is given in the article
(see above), although the little girl seems far from delighted.
Ms Cunningham goes on to report that John was taken by train
“as an ordinary passenger, without even a chain around his neck” to the family’s
country cottage; something that must have surprised other passengers. The
cottage was in the village of Uley, where John also visited the local school
and was something of a celebrity [4].
Eventually, he grew too big and Lankester describes his
fate [2]:
I regret to have to state that,
owing to the expense involved in keeping John in a private house and the
natural anxiety as to whether he could be kept at all in such conditions when
he reached maturity, his owner was induced to sell him, in the belief that he
was to be specially cared for in a warm climate. He was taken by his new
proprietor to the United States, and became very ill owing to his separation from
the friend who had hitherto cared for him and loved him.. ..This novel and
complete exile utterly prostrated him; it deprived him of all spirit and
appetite. An attack of pneumonia killed him soon after his arrival in America.
Contemplating this tragedy, Lankester concludes that “no one
should adopt a young gorilla who is not possessed of a large income and able to
pay for skilled attendants and courageous companions for him when he is
grown up.”
Far better then to leave gorillas, and other great apes,
where they are and, if absolutely necessary, visit them to have experiences
like those enjoyed by David Attenborough in Life on Earth (easily the
best remembered scene in the whole of the excellent series of programmes). Such
ecotourism needs strict controls to avoid exploitation, but it is not the main threat
to the great apes; that comes from competition for space. As we are the superior
species, we win in these encounters and the majority of us do not care. We are
so keen to think that we can make the apes like humans, yet we cannot teach
them about the rapacious needs of consumer capitalism.
If we turn our approach on its head, what can we learn from
the great apes? Asking that question may mean that we have to concede that we
are not the best at everything.
[1] Christopher Lever (1992) They Dined on Eland.
London, Quiller Press.
[2] Ray Lankester (1923) Great and Small Things.
London, Methuen & Co.
[3] Alyse Cunningham (1921) A Gorilla’s Life in
Civilization. Bulletin of the Zoological Society of New York, September
1921 pp.118-124.
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