On my bookshelf
The Last Tasmanian Tiger, by Robert Paddle
Eighty years ago this month, the last-known Tasmanian tiger died. With it an entire branch of the tree of life went extinct – it was the only species in its family.
Today, museums are the only habitat of Tasmanian tigers, or thylacines, and every self-respecting natural history museum will have or long for a specimen. They have become an icon for manmade extinction; like the dodo, but alive recently enough to have been photo-graphed, preserved in spirit, and described by living eye-witnesses.
Their story is even more tragic, because it was effectively deliberate. Many books tell of the demise of the thylacine, but it is Robert Paddle who best challenges widely-held beliefs about them hunting livestock – an accusation that caused a bounty to be put on their heads.
The Last Tasmanian Tiger outlines the politics of their demise, bringing together news stories, hunters’ accounts, government reports and an arresting collection of photos. Paddle concludes that the thylacine was probably innocent of its charges. It’s a fantastic, and devastating, interplay between social and natural history.
Jack Ashby is the manager of the Grant Museum of Zoology, UCL
Today, museums are the only habitat of Tasmanian tigers, or thylacines, and every self-respecting natural history museum will have or long for a specimen. They have become an icon for manmade extinction; like the dodo, but alive recently enough to have been photo-graphed, preserved in spirit, and described by living eye-witnesses.
Their story is even more tragic, because it was effectively deliberate. Many books tell of the demise of the thylacine, but it is Robert Paddle who best challenges widely-held beliefs about them hunting livestock – an accusation that caused a bounty to be put on their heads.
The Last Tasmanian Tiger outlines the politics of their demise, bringing together news stories, hunters’ accounts, government reports and an arresting collection of photos. Paddle concludes that the thylacine was probably innocent of its charges. It’s a fantastic, and devastating, interplay between social and natural history.
Jack Ashby is the manager of the Grant Museum of Zoology, UCL