Publication date:
15 August 2016Publisher
Pelagic PublishingDimensions:
234x156mm6x9"
ISBN-13: 9781784270926
The Lapwing once had many regional names; the Loon has a British-American identity crisis and the respectable-sounding Apostlebird is often called a Lousy Jack. Why do bird names, both common and scientific, change over time and why do they vary so much between different parts of the English-speaking world? Wandering through the scientific and cultural history of ornithology takes us to the heart of understanding the long relationship between birds and people.
Lapwings, Loons and Lousy Jacks uncovers the stories behind the incredible diversity of bird names, explains what many scientific names actually mean and takes a look at the history of the system by which we name birds. Ray Reedman explores the natural history and folklore behind bird names, in doing so unlocking the mystery of the name Scoter, the last unexplained common name of a British bird species.
I approached Ray Reedman's splendidly titled book with enthusiastic anticipation. I am currently producing a set of prints of birds, using their old and often long forgotten names for the titles. I hoped to find stories about the derivation of these names and perhaps come across new ones to inspire further pictures in the series. I was not disappointed.
Ray examines how generic names developed until men like Linneaus tidied up the nomenclature and gave us universal names in Latin which most could agree with and accept. However, he points out how the accepted lists are still evolving with regular changes and up-dates, as scientific research reveals fresh evidence to lump or subdivide groups of species. Ray is not put off, rather he finds it all adds to his enjoyment of language and the stories that the names have to tell.
The first three chapters take us on a journey to explore the historical roots of language and the evolution of the names we use today. These are eminently readable, fascinating and often entertaining, but I was keen to get to chapter 4, "The Names and the Stories," where Ray deals "with the specific aspects of British bird names." This forms the bulk of the book and here I hoped to find new names to inspire new pictures.
My grandfather's house was called 'Culverwood' which I always assumed was a reference to pigeons. Ray confirms this, although I was surprised to see that 'Culver Duck' was also a local name for the common Eider, a corruption of Cuthbert, the monk who created a reserve on the Farne Islands.
Oystercatchers are a favourite subject of mine but now I have a new and more appropriate name, 'Mussel Cracker', which I must help to restore! My other pied shorebird favourite, the Avocet, has a number of names, but none quite appeal and I guess I will stick with Avocet! I have probably done more pictures of Lapwings than any other species and titles the most recent by their old name, 'Pie-wipes'. I had not realised, until I read Ray's account, that 'wipe' refers to the Lapwings' crest. There are gems like this on every page and I wished I had read page 146 before calling my newest print 'Shore Larks', when 'Horned Larks' would have been a better choice.
Ray is obviously a much travelled birder and his encounters abroad greatly enliven the text. In the last section, 'New Horizons', he takes us on birding trips to North America, Australia and Trinidad, with many stories of the birds, their names and his own "treasured memories".
The book concludes with legends and myths behind many of the names. Clearly those ancient Greeks were also great birders!