Synopsis:

The life, death and afterlife of one of the true icons of extinction, the Great Auk

Since 1950 more than seventy percent of the world’s seabirds have been lost through human activity. The Great Auk was the first species to go. A goose-sized seabird superbly adapted for underwater flight, their lives were idyllic prior to the appearance of three months ashore to breed, the rest of the time riding the ocean waves.

However, Great Auks had one main predator – humans. Having harried the bird mercilessly for centuries in the east, the Europeans who stumbled upon the Great Auks’ New World breeding colonies in the 16th century couldn’t believe their luck. Seabird colonies became fast-food restaurants for hungry sailors, with mariners gorging themselves on the liver-flavoured auk flesh for more than two centuries.

The last two were killed in 1844, but the Great Auk lived on, with collectors obsessing over their skins, eggs and skeletons through dodgy dealings involving staggering amounts of money. 180 years on, leading ornithologist Tim Birkhead found himself the recipient of the archive of a man who accumulated more Great Auk skins and eggs than anyone else.

Rich with insight and packed with tales of birds and of people, this astonishing book reveals the Great Auk’s life before humanity, its death on that fateful day in 1844, and the unrelenting subsequent quest for its remains – the first seabird ruthlessly destroyed by human actions, and an all-powerful symbol of human folly and the necessity of conservation.

Review:

Ever since I saw a great auk in a case at The Natural History Museum I have been curious about these birds. Large, about the size of geese, but with small wings and markings that you could mistake for a penguin, I wondered at how humanity could have allowed this bird to become extinct. Did we not learn from the Dodo? Clearly, we did not.

Tim Birkhead’s book is an investigation into the plight of the great auk. These extinct birds were relatives of the razorbills and guillemots we still have today, part of the Alcidae family of seabirds. Unlike all its smaller relatives, the great auk was flightless and nested on low shorelines. It was for this reason that these magnificent birds ended up hunted to extinction.

The account set down in the book is unflinching in its descriptions of how we, humans, brought destruction upon entire colonies of these birds. For 200 years they were hunted relentlessly; for food, feathers and in the end, a mad panic for specimens to stuff and study for science. It boggled my mind and made me feel queasy that the last two auks in the world were killed in the name of science and progress, their single egg trampled underfoot.

The book doesn’t end with the auk’s extinction, for their skins and eggs were highly sought after by collectors and we focus a lot on one in particular, Vivian Hewitt. I felt these sections were a little less compelling, as it was almost a biography, but I did find that some excellent arguments were made and there was interesting discussion on the want for specimens for study versus how they are obtained (killing birds).

Overall this was a fascinating and important book. Birkhead is truly an authority in his field and the best person for this book – the passion behind the words is palpable, especially when imagining how the auks might have lived. It’s a fitting tribute to these enigmatic creatures and one that needs to be read. Our eyes should be open to the destruction we have wrought, for to shy away from it is an insult to the species that no longer exist in the world because of our greed. We need to learn from what we have done, and this book is but one such lesson.

Thank you to @bloomsburyoutdoors for this #gifted copy. The Great Auk is out now.