Book Review: Lawrence Anthony, The Elephant Whisperer: My life with the Herd in the African Wild, St. Martin’s Press, New York, 2009.

My Review:

Most of the books I read and review are about people and communication and global issues. This book, The Elephant Whisperer by Lawrence Anthony, is indeed a global issue. The book takes the readers vicariously into the animal world and the love-hate relationship many humans have with God’s creatures. Anthony owns a game reserve in South Africa. One day he got a phone call from another reserve asking him to take a herd of elephants. The issue was “the matriarch keeps breaking out. Not only does she snap electric wires, she’s also learned how to unlatch gates with her tusks and the owners aren’t too keen about jumbos wandering into the guest camps. If you don’t take them, they will be shot. Certainly the adults will be” (Lawrence Anthony, The Elephant Whisperer: My life with the Herd in the African Wild, St. Martin’s Press, New York, 2009. P.11). What ensues is this fascinating story of how Anthony was able to establish deep communication with these elephants who had been traumatized by humans.

How do you reach and calm down three very angry adult females, and an adolescent bull who are in charge of three youngsters and two babies? I think the reader will share my great admiration for Anthony as a conservationist and a lover of these immensely powerful giants of God’s kingdom.                     5 Stars M.L. Codman-Wilson, Ph.D., 06/07/18

Excerpt:

After the elephant’s first breakout in the electro-fence enclosure (boma) where they were to get rehabilitated before their release into the new reserve, Anthony made a radical decision:

“I would remain outside the boma but I will stay with them, feed them, talk to them, but most importantly be with them day and night. These magnificent creatures were extremely distressed and disoriented and maybe, just maybe if someone who cared about them was constantly with them, they will have a chance … One morning at 4:45am when the darkness is most intense … Nana (the matriarch of the herd) was at the fence. “Look at her,” whispered David crouching next to me. Nana took a step forward. “Oh shit here she goes,” said David. “That bloody electric wire better hold.” (Behind her, all the rest of the herd was lined up).

Without thinking I stood and walk toward the fence … “Don’t do it, Nana.” I said calmly as I could, “Please don’t do it, girl.” She stood motionless but tense like an athlete straining for the starters gun. Behind her, the rest of the herd froze. “This is your home now,” I continued, “Please don’t do it, girl.” I felt her eyes boring into me even though I could barely make out her face in the murk. “They will kill you all if you break out. This is your home now. You don’t have to run anymore.”

Still she didn’t move. And suddenly the absurdity of the situation struck me. Here I was in thick darkness talking to a wild female elephant with a baby, the most dangerous possible combination, as if we have a friendly chat. Absurd or not, I decided to continue. I meant every word and meant for her to get what I was saying. “You will all die if you go. Stay here, I will be with you and it’s a good place.”

She took another step forward. I could see her tense up again, preparing to go all the way. I, too, was ready. If she could take the pain (8,000volts) and snap the electric wire, the rest of the fence won’t hold and they will be out. Frankie (the other female matriarch) and the rest would smash through after her in a flash… I would only have seconds to scramble out of their way and climb a tree or else be stomped flatter than an envelope. The nearest tree, a big acacia robusta with wicked thorns, was perhaps 10 yards to my left. I wondered if I would be fast enough. Possibly not … When had I last climbed a thorn tree?

Then something happened between Nana and me, some infinitesimal spark of recognition… Nana nudged her baby and turned and melted into the bush… Something had happened; it gives me a slither of hope (p.62, 64-66).