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Why the British fall prey to tales of big cats on a country estate Why the British fall prey to tales of big cats on a country estate
(2 months later)
A loping black shape moves through the long grass of an English field. It might be a big cat. The way it lowers its shoulders does resemble a feline stalking posture. It makes me think of Henri Rousseau's painting Surprised!, in which a tiger with similar hunched shoulders hunts in an imaginary jungle.A loping black shape moves through the long grass of an English field. It might be a big cat. The way it lowers its shoulders does resemble a feline stalking posture. It makes me think of Henri Rousseau's painting Surprised!, in which a tiger with similar hunched shoulders hunts in an imaginary jungle.
But there's the key word – imaginary. Is this big cat real or is it an illusion? The blurred photograph (why so shaky, was it fear or fake fear?) reveals what genre this picture belongs to. It's summer and the monster animal snaps are here. Remarkably, the warm summer has not yet produced any sightings of great white sharks off Cornwall or kraken near Anglesey, but here's an animal mystery to spice up those country walks. Beware the possible puma!But there's the key word – imaginary. Is this big cat real or is it an illusion? The blurred photograph (why so shaky, was it fear or fake fear?) reveals what genre this picture belongs to. It's summer and the monster animal snaps are here. Remarkably, the warm summer has not yet produced any sightings of great white sharks off Cornwall or kraken near Anglesey, but here's an animal mystery to spice up those country walks. Beware the possible puma!
Somerset landowner Sir Benjamin Slade claims this less than crystal clear picture shows a dangerous wild cat on his territory, and says animals have been killed by Something Out There. He warns visitors to his estate to be on their guard against The Beast. Perhaps a rival claimant to his baronetcy has cooked up a plot like that invented by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle in The Hound of the Baskervilles. The terrifying black dog that was kept hungry and raving on the moors to wipe out an aristocratic lineage has perhaps been replaced by a spooky cat in the long grass. Yet long before Conan Doyle wrote his definitive tale of a monster beast at large in the English countryside, we were imagining eerie intruders from a realm somewhere between nature and nightmare. The Old English poem Beowulf tells of a monster from the moors murdering men in the mead hall.Somerset landowner Sir Benjamin Slade claims this less than crystal clear picture shows a dangerous wild cat on his territory, and says animals have been killed by Something Out There. He warns visitors to his estate to be on their guard against The Beast. Perhaps a rival claimant to his baronetcy has cooked up a plot like that invented by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle in The Hound of the Baskervilles. The terrifying black dog that was kept hungry and raving on the moors to wipe out an aristocratic lineage has perhaps been replaced by a spooky cat in the long grass. Yet long before Conan Doyle wrote his definitive tale of a monster beast at large in the English countryside, we were imagining eerie intruders from a realm somewhere between nature and nightmare. The Old English poem Beowulf tells of a monster from the moors murdering men in the mead hall.
Britain is a land that loves nature, the home of some of the greatest poets and observers of the living world. But our experience of nature on these shores tends to be frustratingly domestic. There are no wolves in our woodlands, and shark experts are puzzled that in spite of ideal sea temperatures, there is still no proven visit by a great white.Britain is a land that loves nature, the home of some of the greatest poets and observers of the living world. But our experience of nature on these shores tends to be frustratingly domestic. There are no wolves in our woodlands, and shark experts are puzzled that in spite of ideal sea temperatures, there is still no proven visit by a great white.
Maybe that is why we crave every clue that something strange is in the hedgerows. Nature red in tooth and claw haunts the British imagination. This hunger for exotic creatures to liven up our quiet landscape once drove Victorian geologists to discover, in the rocks of Lyme Regis, the first properly understood fossils of giant reptiles of the Jurassic. Of course, the American west turned out to have bigger and better dinosaurs. Why is the wild always elsewhere?Maybe that is why we crave every clue that something strange is in the hedgerows. Nature red in tooth and claw haunts the British imagination. This hunger for exotic creatures to liven up our quiet landscape once drove Victorian geologists to discover, in the rocks of Lyme Regis, the first properly understood fossils of giant reptiles of the Jurassic. Of course, the American west turned out to have bigger and better dinosaurs. Why is the wild always elsewhere?
Today, the British craving for the marvellous takes the shape of blurred photographs of enigmatic predators. Our tranquil countryside is a magnificent setting for monster stories. Come on, you beasts, and gore our minds.Today, the British craving for the marvellous takes the shape of blurred photographs of enigmatic predators. Our tranquil countryside is a magnificent setting for monster stories. Come on, you beasts, and gore our minds.
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