Reading Copy Book Blog

Ask anyone who knows me - I’m a sucker for animals. I can’t walk past a cat or (non-snarly) dog without patting it, I’m forever forwarding emails of dehydrated koalas or tigers raising piglets, and the slow loris video almost did me in.

So I started thinking today - what were some animals from fiction that I really loved? I can’t call it a TOP ten, because I absolutely know I’ll be missing some, but here are some of the animals I’ve really loved in fiction.

1. Charlotte, the grey spider from Charlotte’s Web by E.B. White. As wise and kind as she was matter-of-fact, Charlotte was a great friend, always boosting a pig’s bruised ego when he needed it, without being afraid to tell it like it was. She commanded respect, and in turn treated those around her accordingly. She was very loving, and very loyal. Also, she could spin a mean web.

2. Wilbur, the pig from Charlotte’s Web by E.B. White. Underneath a tendency toward vanity, self-pity and self-indulgence, Wilbur was a fine, strong pig. He was often impulsive and impetuous, but these are the follies of youth, and with the guidance of a friend like Charlotte in those key formative times, sure to be outgrown. When push came to shove, Wilbur found himself to be stronger than he could have believed, and learned that he was, indeed, some pig.

3. The Doubtful Guest from Amphigorey by Edward Gorey. Can I count the Doubtful Guest as an animal? I’m going to, anyway. The Doubtful Guest is…well, sort of a wild-eyed, furry penguin wearing high-top sneakers and a long, striped scarf. He rushes into the house of good and sensible people, and, beginning with standing with his nose against the wall and refusing to leave, essentially turns their lives upside down while they helplessly look on. A most contrary creature, I like to think of the Doubtful Guest as sort of a metaphor - a physical manifestation of the phrase ‘Life is what happens when you’re busy making other plans.” Nothing is within our control. Expect the unexpected. Hey look, a hairy penguin thing just ran in. Etc.

4. Hobbes from the Calvin & Hobbes comic by Bill Watterson. Yes, I know he’s technically a stuffed animal, but that’s only because we’re grown ups, and the harsh reality of life has sucked us dry and killed our imaginations, replacing our once fertile landscapes of optimism and possibility with a barren, scorching desert of adulthood, with the only silver lining being the promise of eventual death beckoning on the horizon. Anyway, Hobbes was Calvin’s vesy best friend and confidante, always ready with sage advice, and a wise word, but always willing to join in the fun, help take the blame, and make it all up as they went along.

5. All of the insects from James and the Giant Peach by Roald Dahl. James is a little boy in serious need of some hope and companionship. His parents were brutally killed (by a rhinoceros, at that), he has no friends, and is an orphan in the care of his two horrible Aunts, who beat, neglect and otherwise shockingly abuse him. Through a series of incredible adventures, magic and luck, he comes to meet a posse of oversized insects, who are by turns musical, wise, loving, crotchety, fun-loving, and above all, kind. The insects like James immdiately, are delighted to meet him, and treat him the way he deserves.

6. Goopy and Bagha, the Plentimaw fishes from Haroun and the Sea of Stories by Salman Rushdie. (Get it? “There’s Plentimaw fish in the sea?”) What’s not to like? Goopy and Bagha are inseparable environmentalists, cautionary tales and advocates of the ocean, racing alongside Haroun’s boat and speaking in rhyme, as a pair, consistently. They’re capable and efficient, knowledgeable tour guides, friendly and admirable.

7. Pigwidgeon, Ron Weasley’s pet owl from the Harry Potter books by JK Rowling. Owls aren’t just pets in the wizarding world; they are companions, family members, and most importantly, messengers. Owls carry wizards’ and witches’ mail back and forth. An important role, and one which ensures most owls (including Harry’s own Hedwig) maintain a dignified air of grace, commanding respectability. Pigwidgeon (’Pig’ for short) on the other hand, is a clumsy, undersized, runty ball of fluff, forever cartwheeling into things, emitting muffled squeaks of indignation, dropping things and the like. He is a decidedly undignified owl, totally endearing and perfect for Ron Weasley, who often has an unfortunate tendency toward the ridiculous himself.

8. Jonathan from Jonathan Livingston Seagull by Richard Bach I could likely not be accused of hippiedom, but I really loved this story. Jonathan is a seagull with curiosity, ambition and aspirations. He wants to fly higher, farther, longer than any seagull before, sea everything there is to see, and sets about doing just that. Despite disappointment at initial failures, he perseveres and keeps doing exactly what feels right to him. The book is pretty heavy with brick-to-the-head obvious symbolism, but much like Le Petit Prince, The Alchemist or Candide, it’s a beautiful, simple story about an individual finding one’s way in the world as best as he can.

8. Bodger from The Incredibly Journey by Sheila Burnford After a series of mishaps and misunderstandings, Bodger the English Bull Terrier ends up lost and far from home. Along with his pals Tao (TAY-oh, the Siamese Cat) and Luath (a Golden Retriever), Bodger sets out on a truly remarkable journey to get back to his people and his home. The trip face many obstacles and hardships on the way, and none show more courage, patience, affection and love than Bodger. Bodger is old, a senior citizen, and nearly blind in one eye, but plods along as best he can, helping his friends and making his way, little by little. He loves people, especially children, and is among the dearest characters in any book I’ve read. I think I would cry, still, if I reread this book today.

So, tell me. I know I’m missing countless animals. Tell me, who would you include? Lassie? Black Beauty? Old Yeller? What fictional animals have you grown to love throughout the course of a good read?

I really liked this selection from the Washington Post’s Books Section’s Summer Reading issue. They asked authors if they were stuck on a desert island, what literary character they’d like to have with them. A neat twist on the classic “which 10 meals, which 10 books” etcetera. Here’s what they said:

Christopher Buckley

Well, I’m seriously tempted to say Lolita, but as Nixon would say, “That would be wrong.” The second-most obvious answer would be Robinson Crusoe, mainly so he’d do all the heavy lifting and making fires and getting the fresh water and - important - catching fish for supper. But the conversation might get boring after awhile, so I think I’ll go with Magwitch, the escaped convict from Charles Dickens’s “Great Expectations.” He’d have some fantastic stories to tell, and, as we know, he knew his way around the seashore.

Jodi Picoult

I’d spend the day with Mr. Darcy, from Jane Austen’s “Pride and Prejudice,” naturally. Is there any other man who broods so masterfully in literature and who could benefit more from a spirited, lighthearted game of beach Frisbee? And of course, since we’d be on a beach together, I’d greatly enjoy seeing what’s beneath that proper waistcoat of his.

Barbara Delinsky

John Wheelwright from “A Prayer For Owen Meany,” by John Irving. I was crushed when Owen Meany died and, short of bringing him back, would like to hear that John, his friend and emotional beneficiary, has given lasting meaning to Owen’s life. I wonder if the belief in God that Owen’s death inspired has helped John believe in himself as well. A day at the beach would give us time to talk about that, perhaps give us both closure.

Diana Gabaldon

Give me Stephen Maturin of Patrick O’Brian’s “Master and Commander.” Titularly a naval surgeon (ca. 1800), he’s also an intelligence agent and a natural philosopher with a mania for birds, fish, sloths, beetles and other fauna. We could have elevating conversations while turning over sea-wrack in search of sand fleas and nondescript copepods.

Colson Whitehead

Quint from Peter Benchley’s “Jaws.” Why? There are two good reasons. One, I used to fish a lot when I was a kid, but I’m rusty, and two, my wife is always telling me to “butch it up a little.” Quint, famous shark hunter, can get me reacquainted with the ins and outs of the fisherman’s trade, and when I reel in a porgy, he can yell and cuss at me like I’m fighting with a great white.

Christopher Moore

The Wife of Bath from Chaucer’s “Canterbury Tales.” She’s got moxie, knows how to “swynke it, swynke it,” and she’s English, so you can watch her crisp in the afternoon sun.

Philippa Gregory

I should like to spend a day at the beach with Jake Barnes from “The Sun Also Rises” by Ernest Hemingway. Firstly, Jake is tremendously laid back and cool with an inner sorrow, which would be good for a day, though tedious for too long. He can fish and he loves Nature, so I think we would have a reflective session perhaps from a small boat and then a barbecue of grilled fish and chunky bread. He is a virtuoso drinker, so I anticipate some chilled white to start and a strong red for the later evening. He just can’t bring any of his dopey friends.

Geraldine Brooks

Almondine from “The Story of Edgar Sawtelle,” by David Wroblewski. There’s nothing finer than a day on the beach with a dog. Unfortunately, mine are too antisocial to take there when other people are about. Milo has the dreadful habit of lifting his leg on people’s beach bags, while Shiloh barks with manic excitement. A well-trained, companionable dog such as Almondine would be a perfect companion, and I’d get to see what a Sawtelle dog looked like.

Arthur Phillips

Captain Ahab, from “Moby Dick,” by Herman Melville. I am a terrible beach-o-phobe, tiptoeing into the surf clenched with certainty that I will soon be ray-stung or jelly-scorched. How reassuring then, if I must go to the beach, to be protected by an unwavering maniac, ready to kill anything that swims too close to me.

Elinor Lipman

Esmé from “For Esmé - with Love and Squalor” from J.D. Salinger’s “Nine Stories.” Who better than this smart, earnest, affecting yet accidentally hilarious British teen? I want an update. Afterwards, I’d be quoting her forever.

Garrison Keillor

Emily Dickinson, the heroine of her own poetry (”Wild Nights!” and others). I just think she needs to get out of that cold dark house in Amherst and spend a sunny day at a beach where, I am pretty sure, she would slip into a two-piece and lie under a parasol and we’d have hot dogs and cold beers and talk and talk and talk.

Wally Lamb

The cool ocean waters of Cape Cod’s Longnook Beach provide the perfect antidote to a scorching Alabama summer, so that’s where I take young Scout Finch from Harper Lee’s “To Kill a Mockingbird.” We descend the dune, ride the waves and then walk along the water’s edge, collecting shells and talking about our prospective eras: hers, in which a black man’s guilt was a foregone conclusion even with Atticus as his lawyer; and mine, in which a black family now lives in the White House but millions of black folks still live in our country’s prisons. We’ve come a way, Scout and I conclude, but have a way to go.

George Pelecanos

I would choose to spend my time with Preston Marsh, the anti-hero biker from Kem Nunn’s classic surf/noir/coming-of-age novel, “Tapping the Source.” Marsh’s hard-won humanity and volatile nature would make for an interesting day at the beach. Frankie Avalon he’s not.

And me? Who would I choose? After a bit of a think, I decided I would have to go with Aziraphale, the angel from Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett’s witty novel Good Omens. He’s resourceful, being an angel, and I seem to recall the ability to conjure up both booze and cocoa. He loves to read and is a good conversationalist. He’s pragmatic enough to stray from the path of piety when necessary, but I know he’s not gonna let a good woman die alone out there.

What about you?