Procrastination, as fun as it is, presents certain risks. For instance, you might be puttering around on the internet, attempting in a desultory way to decide if the 1878 Labrador Duck sighting/shooting/eating in Elmira New York represents the authentic last record of the bird or what, and you might suddenly see a search result you never noticed before – which means it must be new, seeing as how it’s right up on top of the rankings. And that search result might take you to Amazon. Where somebody might have just published a shiny new book about the heretofore-bookless Labrador Duck.
And you might sink to your knees and shake your fists at the sky and scream “Nooooooooooooooooo!” and somehow the lightening flashes and the thunder growls and the rain pours on your upturned, grimacing face, even though you are inside your apartment (you should probably talk to your landlord about that.)
Once you calm down and get a towel, of course, you will be happy to learn that the new book is not chiefly about the Labrador Duck in life. No, The Curse of the Labrador Duck: My Obsessive Quest to the Edge of Extinction is much more singular than that.
It’s about a guy, Glen Chilton, and his noble yet sort of OCD mission to examine every single extant specimen of Labrador Duck. This is not merely necrophiliac twitching. The species’ entire legacy consists of fifty-odd stuffed skins and taxidermy mounts, nine eggs, and two breast-bones. Or does it? The authenticity of some of the specimens is in doubt, and part of Chilton’s task is to sort out the sheep from the goats (or the Labradors from the cunningly painted white farmyard birds, to be more precise.) Moreover, these specimens have a disconcerting habit of being lost in air raids, vanishing behind the Iron Curtain, languishing in underfunded research facilities with leaks, getting swiped when their cases are left unlocked, and falling into the hands of collectors who are, in the polite British phraseology, eccentric.
Chilton is more scientist than writer (and properly so – I wouldn’t let Jonathan Lethem collect DNA samples out of the blow-hole of a hundred-and-fifty year old egg) and his account occasionally suffers from awkward phrasing and peculiar organizational choices – Errol Fuller accompanies Chilton to Germany, for instance, several chapters before he is actually introduced to the reader (although naturally I knew who he was.) Nevertheless, the story comes alive with Chilton’s own good humor and suspense, and if you love travelogues, museums, or both, it is well worth reading. (Also well worth reading if you have an old Labrador Duck of Great-grandpa’s sitting in the family attic – Chilton closes the volume by putting out a bounty on any specimens he has not yet examined.)
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November 24, 2009 at 11:03 pm
There’s an interview with the author here. Haven’t read it yet but based on the interview, it’s on my list of ones to pick up based on the interview (as is almost every science and music book that gets covered by that show).
November 25, 2009 at 2:35 am
Thanks for pointing that out – I’ll give it a listen when I get the chance.
November 25, 2009 at 2:25 am
Labrador Duck seems to be the least publicized of the North American post-colonization bird extinctions. Passenger Pigeon, Carolina Parakeet, and Ivory-billed Woodpecker are all pretty well known, even among non-birders. Bachmann’s Warbler, Great Auk, and Eskimo Curlew are perhaps a tier below them, but Labrador Duck lags far behind. I wonder why that is.
November 25, 2009 at 2:36 am
Judging by my research, a big part of the problem is just that there’s so little that can be said with certainty about the poor little beggars. There’s no solid observations of anything but their wintering habits.
November 25, 2009 at 9:47 am
I guess someone writing a monograph on the species might try and deduce some aspects of its biology by comparing the bird’s colouration and structural features to extant ducks of comparable ecosystems (northern Atlantic), e.g. comparing wing formula and bodymass/wing ration to extant ducks to make a guess about the Labrador’s potential to migrate long or short distances etc.
This might all be nothing but an “educated guess” but surely rather helpful and scientifically acceptable when clearly marked as such.
And of course it would involve regular and extensive visits to the AMNH’s duck collection.
Now, all we have to do is find a dedicated and gifted writer who likes the Labrador Duck and enjoys nights at the museum.
Hmmmmmm, I might have come across a good candidate recently but I just can’t remember…
November 25, 2009 at 9:24 am
Phew!
Don’t do that – my heart, she easily skips a beat nowadays.
November 25, 2009 at 9:36 am
Regarding John’s comment:
I find it quite peculiar that there are a surprising number of “probable/possible” Eskimo Curlew claims which seems comparable to the number of Ivory-billed claims before the big rush to Arkansas and Florida set in.
However, birders in general seem far more convinced of the curlew’s extinction than that of the woodpecker.
And I am also not aware of anyone still actively searching for Bachman’s Warbler. I also find that rather peculiar and would have expected a birding community as large (and well-financed) as the North American to put in much more efford.
However, I was surprised that a large-scale search for Europe’s Eskimo Curlew was only launched this winter, and not back in the late 1990ies when a large flock was still found in Italy.
I guess people never learn to take care of things and creatures BEFORE they are gone.
If we’d put as much effort in rescuing a species we know to still survive from extinction as in verifying if a species is still extant (or rather not), you know, we might save ourselves a few large-scale and messy / controversial searches like the Ivory-billed one in Arkansas and Florida.
Sigh.
And you really think, Carrie, I should contact my landlord about the leaking ceiling? But it only leaks in heavy rains. Good thing I am NOT working on a book project then, ey?
November 25, 2009 at 11:36 pm
One reason that there have not been active searches for Bachman’s Warbler is that their main wintering ground was in Cuba, which also seems like the most likely location for a remnant population. That effectively blocks US birders from one search area and makes it difficult to coordinate research between the two countries. A few years ago, a European visitor filmed an unknown warbler in Cuba, but the bird in the video may be a Yellow Warbler rather than Bachman’s. Maybe if the US-Cuba travel restrictions get lifted, there will be a comprehensive search in the future. Of course, nothing prevents a search of the continental breeding grounds.
November 25, 2009 at 9:38 am
When I said “Europe’s Eskimo curlew, my brain was quicker than my fingers: I meant “Europe’s equivalent to the Eskimo Curlew, the Slender-billed Curlew”.
I have recently become a bit of a reckless commenter and promise to be more thorough from now on.
December 9, 2009 at 5:30 am
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