This one is mostly about fish, reptiles, and Aristotle, not necessarily in that order. (You will find Aristotle under reptiles.) Plus snippets about some of the animals that have mastered the art of extinction, such as the dodo, “the ultimate in extinction,” which “seems to have been invented for the sole purpose of becoming extinct.” And if you are thinking of adding a snake to your family circle, Cuppy gives you a few points to consider before making that kind of commitment. In general, he is against making pets of snakes, but admits that he might not have met the right snake. Anything by Cuppy is worth reading, and this one is no exception. The text is superb and the illustrations by Steig are first-rate.
My second-favorite Will Cuppy extravaganza, this one focusing on all kinds of animals and their behavior -- or rather what science understood and theorized about them at the time Cuppy was alive. Cuppy's trademark was to read every word he could find on a subject -- having access to New York libraries, that's a lot -- and summarize it all in a few pages. Funny, interesting, and scientifically accurate. Except maybe the part about how Perch go under bridges when it rains. It's probably significant that not one, but three copies of this book have been destroyed by floods in my library. The fish are clearly trying to tell me something.
How to Become Extinct is a little book of nature-themed wit and nonsense humor of the type that I used to most enjoy as a younger lass. That said, there were some lines that did make me laugh, such as:
[on tropical fish] I always say a small aquarium containing several of these delicately lovely creatures is truly educational, for it is here that our kiddies learn all they need to know about infanticide, homicide, uxoricide, cannibalism in the home and other familiar matters of domestic routine.
[I]f Queen Victoria did not have a Goldfish, then history has no meaning and might as well stop.
Cuppy devotes a great deal of his book to the fishes, and I found it interesting that, despite being written in 1941, he has some progressive views about these animals. As for the question of whether a fish suffers when he's hooked, Cuppy scolds his readers:
Of course it hurts the fish. Not as much as it would hurt us to go through a similar experience, but some. Why wouldn't it?
Continuing to enumerate the many failings of Aristotle- the most egregious being his assertion that snakes are unsuitable for having legs - Cuppy introduces us to many species who are extinct, which is a state of non- being that, really, they brought upon themselves. As if that's not enough, the book begins with brief pieces on various kind of disagreeable fish, followed by troublesome snakes. One gets the sense that Cuppy would not mind terribly much if any or all of *those* became extinct one of these days. Well, it would be their own darn fault. Quite funny, best consumed in small doses.
"In these forty brief essays, the perennially perturbed Will Cuppy turns his unflinching attention on those members of the animal kingdom whose habits are disagreeable, whose appearances are repellent, and whose continued existence is not necessarily a foregone conclusion. He is not - decidedly not - without reason. (The pike is pretty nasty as fish go, don't you agree?) And while Cuppy may frequently leave in his wake more questions than answers, we surely owe him a debt of gratitude for at least asking. After all, someone has to consider the distinctions between Stoats and Ermines, or why the Age of Reptiles simply had to come to an end. And if his take on the Giant Ground Sloth is less than flattering, who are we to quibble? And grateful we are, if only for the author's flawless the carp's "falciform pharyngeal teeth;" a fish that sings through its "glenoid cavity;" M. Danois, who is "seventy-two times as smart as the average Tunny." No other writer of our ken could pinpoint the coloring of the Common Viper as "gray, greenish, yellowish brown, reddish, or black." Decorated with illustrations by the ever-delightful William Steig, this bestiary of fanciful, fretful, and ferocious creatures is sure to enlighten the naturalist in all of us, the one who never really understood why, exactly, so little is known of the Dodo's daily life, even if it's too late to ask about it now."
I understand t6hat this book is meant to be humorous, but I found it disjointed, frivolous, and almost too cute. Perhaps Mr. Cuppy is an acquired taste. If so, this slim volume wasn't long enough for me to acquire it.
Some old-timey humor writing is still good (P.G. Wodehouse). Some has its high points and low points (Jerome K. Jerome). Some is just weirdly dated, and you can tell that it's supposed to be humorous because when you read it the voice in your head sounds like Groucho Marx, but you just don't find yourself laughing. This is that.
What a funny little book. Will Cuppy, a humor columnist for the New Yorker. This book focuses on a series of uncuddly creatures such as snakes an fish. He was said to have read 25 plus books on a subject before writing about it. This I find quite shocking since I was unable to point to any specific fact or "learning" in the book. The driving force of each essay is the speaker's voice, which reminds me of Captain Spaulding of the Marx Brother's Duck Soup, a sort of faux intellectual. It's entertaining but I wonder how it would hold up in 2013, with the many non-fiction, truth bending debates.
His enjoyable style and non sequiturs bring to mind Ted Nancy (42) Groucho (70) and Woody (93) and the Onion.
Notes: My U of Chicago Press edition cover art is funny illustration of a gentleman reptile in his reading chair, by John Sandford 47 own your own snake ** 51 57 pit viper etymology 65 Aristotle indeed 78 tortoise = LAND, not water 86 auk extinction 88 doudo = Port. simpleton 89 passenger pigeon beech-mast 91 Cuppy's extinctin 92 Mesozoic = dinosaurs (age of reptiles) 95 Gimmick's Law 97 bats are going to flop too 101 what's the advantage of staying awake? 102 Look out for the Portugese!
Despite the length of time this book sat on my shelf it is a one-of-a-kind. Funny, odd, and dryly British, it is full of short treatises (treati?) on various reptiles, fish and birds, all with random footnotes that kept me chortling and interrupting my husband's attempts to fall asleep. A fun put-it-down-and-then-pick-it-up-again sort of read.