We’re back! After quite a hiatus at Inspire Virtue. Thankfully, there has been an abundance of excellent reading material and many good things to come.
This has been for our house a year of “boy with exotic pet stories.” There was “Rascal,” about young Sterling and his lovable pet raccoon; there was also “Summer of the Monkeys,” about Jay Berry who befriends the escaped circus monkeys he is trying to capture. And then, with the most uproarious results, there was “Owls in the Family” by Farley Mowat, who, as the title suggests, adopts two owls.
What these stories have in common—besides the zany animals—are strong influences of autobiography. All three authors drew heavily on real childhood experiences to tell the story of being a boy, wandering the wilds, and encountering the natural world. For that reason, they are all entrancing stories despite slow plots and lots of scenes of boys just wandering around.
Mowat, who spent part of his childhood in Saskatoon, Saskatchewan, paints vivid scenes of the changing seasons, boys looking for birds’ nests, and the amusing quirks of living with two owls, Wol and Weeps, one aggressive and assertive, one timid. There are many amusing passages. Take this one, for example, from the chapter that finds Mowat’s father hauling a trailer shaped like a ship to take two boys, the two owls, and Mowat’s dog, Mutt, on a camping trip to go duck hunting. Mowat writes:
“Mutt always rode with his head and front feet stuck away out over the side of the car, while Bruce or I held onto his tail so he wouldn’t fall out on his nose. The owls used to perch on the back of the rumble-seat, and they had to hang on for dear life.
Because his eyes used to get sore from the dust of the prairie roads, Mutt had to wear goggles—the same kind that motorcycle riders wear. The sight of a goggled dog, two horned owls, and our prairie schooner used to make people in other cars take a long look at us as they went by.”
This is a sidesplitting yet poignant portrait of boyhood and animal friends.
It all seemed so moving and straightforward. I was utterly taken in by the image. But on the final page, there is a note that made me question. The final paragraph claims all the characters are real. Sure, but are they really?
Don’t get me wrong, it’s still a fabulous story. But Mowat’s insistence on absolute fidelity to the way things were seemed suspect.
When I looked up what else Mowat had written (to request it from the library, naturally), I discovered the minefield that is the legacy of Farley Mowat. His passionate desire to advance the cause of environmentalism and bring justice to the oppressed seems to have led to a peculiar habit of prevarication, obfuscation, and downright lies. It depends on whom you ask.
Perhaps most amusing is the alleged nickname bestowed on Mr. Mowat by the people living in the Canadian Artic, the location for many of his alleged half-truths and fabrications: “Hardly Know-It.”
Not everyone was upset by the charges that Mowat was less than truthful. Naturalist and author Stuart Houston was quoted at the time of the controversy: “Anyone who knows Farley knows that he has a difficult time understanding where truth ends and his imagination begins … and we love him for it.”
His is a complex reputation as author and observer of people, animals, and the natural world. “Owls in the Family” is, however, a work of fiction. Enjoy it! It’s a quick read that takes you to a place you may be unfamiliar with to meet and get to know a boy and his owls who bring much hilarity and heartfelt companionship. Whatever we make of its ultimate claims to Truth, the merits of the story stand on their own.
