He Who Lives by the Tusk ...

 

 

I.

 

As a matter of fact, I'm not what some would term an elephantophile. 

 

For whilst I wouldn't describe them as pig-tailed monsters, they're a bit too big and grey for my tastes and do sometimes possess a look in their long-lashed, colour-blind eyes that makes me uncomfortable. And don't mention those appalling feet and toenails!   

 

Putting these things aside, however, I have nothing against them and in the unlikely event an elephant should wander into my backgarden, I would happily give them a sticky bun to eat (providing they were careful not to tread on the cat). 

 

 

II. 

 

In contrast, I would not be so considerate of those involved in the illegal ivory trade. 

 

For if you wish to speak of monsters, then look no further than those who participate in the slaughter of African elephants and threaten them as a species with extinction. No wonder Joseph Conrad described the ivory business as the vilest trade that ever disfigured the history of human conscience.

 

It's chilling to recall that during the 1980s, 75,000 African elephants were killed annually for the ivory trade and their population was reduced in number from around 1.3 million to 600,000. 

 

Even more horrifying and depressing is the fact that the trade continues today, if on a reduced scale; approximately 20,000 elephants are now killed by poachers each year in Africa - more than the number of elephants being born - and the population now stands at around 415,000 individuals (to which one can add the remaining 50,000 Asian elephants).         

 

Of course there are other threats to the survival of the elephant, such as habitat destruction, the enclosure of farmland, and global warming. But poaching remains a real issue and there is an increasing demand for ivory in China and the Far East, where it is used for luxury items no one really needs.    

 

Apparently, ivory which is seized by the authorities is eventually destroyed, either by crushing or incineration, and this is believed to deter the poaching of elephants for their tusks, suppress the illegal trade in ivory, and foster public support for the conservation of elephants.

 

Whether that's true or not, I don't know (one might imagine it would simply push up the price), but over twenty countries have adopted this policy, including Kenya, which held the first high-profile ivory burning event in 1989, as well as the largest, in 2016, when 105 tonnes of ivory went up in flames. 

 

If it were up to me, rather than destroy the ivory I'd manufacture crosses and spikes from the material on which to crucify the bodies and impale the severed heads of poachers. I'm sure this savagely ironic method would prove a more effective deterrent and be something that the elephants would approve of in their ancient wisdom. 

 

For he who lives by the tusk must surely die by the tusk ...        

 

 

On D. H. Lawrence and Circus Elephants

The people watched and wondered, 

and seemed to resent the mystery that lies in beasts. [1]

 

 

I.

 

Put two men in a ring and there's a fight on. Add some performing animals to the mix and you have a very different type of spectacle: circus. 

 

Circus is a form of popuar entertainment involving men and beasts that, in its modern form, developed in England in the mid-18th century. Although there were travelling zoological exhibitions and clowns and acrobats before this time, it was the combination of these elements within the confines of a circular arena that was unique, and for this we can thank Philip Astley [2]. 

   

For some people, the star of the circus is the ringmaster; for others, it's the trapeze artists, or the showgirls on horseback wearing their sparkling costumes and feathers. But for D. H. Lawrence, the figures which seemed to best capture his imagination were the elephants. 

 

 

II. 

 

As far as I know, Lawrence never saw elephants in the wild; only captive beasts at London Zoo in 1911 [3]; ceremonial creatures taking part in a Buddhist festival in Ceylon in 1922 [4]; and trained elephants at a circus in Toulon (France), where he went with Frieda in December 1928. 

 

Whilst the magnificent tusker elephants in Kandy certainly left their impression on Lawrence (and his poetry), it's the much shorter series of verses - or pansies - that he wrote about the circus elephants that I wish to discuss here. 

 

These verses are:

 

 

Elephants in the circus [5]

 

Elephants in the circus

have aeons of weariness round their eyes

Yet they sit up

and show vast bellies to the children.

 

 

Elephants plodding [6]

 

Plod! Plod!

And what ages of time

the worn arches of their spines support!

 

 

On the drum [7]

 

The huge old female on the drum

shuffles gingerly round

and smiles; the vastness of her elephant antiquity

is amused.

 

 

Two performing elephants [8]

 

He stands with his forefeet on the drum

and the other, the old one, the pallid hoary female

must creep her great bulk beneath the bridge of him.

 

On her knees, in utmost caution

all agog, and curling up her trunk

she edges through without upsetting him.

Triumph! the ancient pig-tailed monster!

 

When her trick is to climb over him

with what shadow-like slow carefulness

she skims him, sensitive

as shadows from the ages gone and perished

in touching him, and planting her round feet.

 

While the wispy, modern children, half-afraid

watch silent. The looming of the hoary, far-gone ages

is too much for them. 

 

 

III. 

 

What these verses suggest is that elephants not only look old and worn out - their saggy, wrinkled skin doesn't help with this - but belong to a prehistoric world or time gone by, as if they were relics or living fossils, who have nothing more to offer than entertainment value (and ivory). 

 

It's often assumed by stupid people that animals that predate man and haven't physically changed much for thousands (if not millions) of years are somehow less evolved than us, or have reached an evolutionary dead end and are thus deserving of no place in the modern world. 

 

But whilst it's true that most species of proboscidean are extinct - and the future's not looking hopeful for the remaining elephants that do roam the Earth in ever-dwindling numbers - this mistaken line of thought is simply an example of anthropocentric conceit. Elephants are as evolved as us and belong as much to the world today as we do.    

 

I'm surprised Lawrence doesn't see this. And disappointed that he suggests performing elephants are having fun. For whilst I'm not an expert in elephant psychology and welfare, I very much doubt they enjoy exposing their vast bellies or find it amusing to balance on a ball or drum. Nor - I imagine - do they want to plod or shuffle around a ring, or crawl on their knees in utmost caution.  

 

Does anyone really imagine that the strange postures and poses they are forced to take up - "showing the pink soles of their feet / and curling their precious live trunks" [9] - come naturally? Or that training doesn't involve cruelty and the brutal use of bull-hooks, whips, and electric prods?  

 

And let's not even mention the physical and emotional abuse these poor creatures are subjected to when they are not in the spotlight; confined and chained for hours on end, or transported from town to town in the back of trucks and boxcars. 

 

Obviously Lawrence was writing a hundred years ago and so can't be expected to share a contemporary view of zoos and circuses in terms of so-called animal rights. But it is strange that a writer who was acutely sensitive to animals in all their wild otherness or mystery - and who hated the attempt by mankind to impose its will over the natural world - should have not been angered or outraged by the indecent sight of an elephant performing on command. 

 

 

Notes

 

[1] D. H. Lawrence, 'When I went to the circus', The Poems, Vol. I, ed. Christopher Pollnitz, (Cambridge University Press, 2013), p. 386. Click here to read in full online.

 

[2] Philip Astley (1742-1814) staged a show at an ampitheatre in London in 1768, featuring trick horseback riding and music. He later added other acts which quickly became associated with the circus, a term coined by Astley's rival, Charles Dibdin, who opened The Royal Circus in London in 1772.

      Readers who are interested, can find more details and a brief history of circus on the website of the National Fairground and Circus Archive (part of the Special Collections and Archive Division of the University of Sheffield Library): click here. 

 

[3] In a letter written to his girlfriend at the time, Louie Burrows, on 9 May 1911, Lawrence is excited by the prospect of her visiting at the weekend (if only for a day) and he proposes taking her to London Zoo, where, he says, he has never been (but presumably wanted to go). See The Letters of D. H. Lawrence, Vol. I, ed. James T. Boulton, (Cambridge University Press, 1979), p. 266. 

      Whether they did go, is uncertain. But if they did visit, they surely called in at the Elephant-House, to see one of the Zoo's main attractions. Readers who are interested to know what other creatures were on display in 1911 might like to consult the illustrated official guide to the London Zoological Society's gardens in Regent's Park, by P. Chalmers Mitchell, published in that year: click here.   

[4] In the Spring of 1922, the Lawrence's spent six weeks in Ceylon. On arrival, they witnessed the Pera-hera (or Festival of the Tooth); a night-time procession involving savage music and devil dancers, as well as huge tusker elephants dressed in gorgeous apparel. Lawrence was impressed, particularly by the latter stepping forth to the beat of a tom-tom and illuminated by torch-light, and he wrote a powerful poem entitled 'Elephant' shortly afterwards which was published in the English Review (April 1923).

      See D. H. Lawrence, The Poems, Vol. I, pp. 338-43. Alternatively, to read 'Elephant' online, click here. 

      My recent post on Lawrence's time in Ceylon can be read by clicking here.  

[5] D. H. Lawrence, The Poems I. 369.

[6] D. H. Lawrence, The Poems, I. 370.

[7] D. H. Lawrence, The Poems, I. 370.

[8] D. H. Lawrence, The Poems, I. 370. 

[9] D. H. Lawrence, 'When I went to the circus', The Poems, I. 386.

 

For a sister post to this one in which I discuss Lawrence's poem 'The elephant is slow to mate', click here.

Elephants Can Be Murderous Too

Illustration from An Historical Relation of the Island Ceylon (1681), by Robert Knox

I have received an email from someone who read the recent series of elephant posts published on Torpedo the Ark: the tragic tales of Tyke, Topsy, Mary and Chunee.

Describing themselves as an elephant lover and a passionate supporter of animal rights, they write to thank me for displaying "compassion with innocent, gentle and highly intelligent creatures forced to suffer needless cruelty at the hands of man".

Now, whilst it's true that I do sympathise with wild things in captivity and dislike all forms of cruelty to animals, I think it should also be mentioned that elephants - which are undeniably intelligent - are not always so gentle. And I'd never describe them as innocent; certainly not in the way in which I suspect my correspondent is using the term.

For not only are wild elephants - particularly the young males - prone to violent and aggressive behaviour (in India, they regularly enter villages at night, damaging property and causing human fatalities), but beasts co-opted into human society have long been complicit in warfare and capital punishment.

Execution by elephant, for example, was once common throughout SE Asia; the supposedly gentle giants happily crushing, dismembering, or impaling prisoners with weaponised tusks. The animals were not only smart and versatile enough to be trained in the sophisticated art of torture, but seemed to derive pleasure from the opportunity to exercise power, inflict pain and test out their deadly skills on unfortunate victims.

The point is this: you can throw someone to the wolves or to the lions if you simply want them to be torn to pieces; but if you really want to extend their suffering and have them murdered by an animal rather than merely killed, then you're going to have enlist the help of an elephant.    


Note: the spectacle of elephants executing captives both horrified and fascinated European travellers and there are numerous written accounts. The practice was eventually suppressed by the colonial powers that controlled the region in the 18th and 19th centuries.