Звери в моей жизни

U Darrella zveri kak li͡udi. U nikh lit͡sa, ne mordy, u nikh kharakter, a ne instinkt, u nikh - dusha, spri͡atannai͡a pod kozhnym i shersti͡anym pokrovom. Chitatʹ knigi Darrella ne tolʹko pouchitelʹno, no i veselo, kak veselo puteshestvovatʹ s geroi͡ami Dzheroma Klapki Dzheroma po Temze ot Kingstona i do Oksforda ili pitʹ vino na bortu "Arabelly" s piratami blagorodnogo kapitana Blada. No ukho vse zhe nado derzhatʹ vostro. Klyki ne zuby, i kogti otni͡udʹ ne palʹt͡sy. V nastoi͡ashchee izdanie izbrannykh sochineniĭ znamenitogo angliĭskogo zoologa i puteshestvennika, odnoĭ iz kulʹtovykh figur KhKh veka, voshli chetyre ego populi͡arnye povesti - "Zveri v moeĭ zhizni", "Putʹ kengurenka", "Poĭmaĭte mne kolobusa" i "Pomestʹe-zverinet͡s", - v kotorykh kraski zemnoĭ prirody i buĭstvo zhizni, ne skovannoĭ industrialʹnymi ramkami, vseli͡ai͡ut v nas nadezhdu na to, chto planeta Zemli͡a v ee dolgom bluzhdanii vokrug Solnt͡sa ne sobʹetsi͡a s nuzhnogo kursa i ne prevratitsi͡a v obezvozhennui͡u pustyni͡u, gde ni kolobusov, ni kengurenkov, ni lesov, ni vozdukha - nichego, krome vetra, igrai͡ushchego s teni͡ami.

Darrell's animals are like people. They have faces, not muzzles, they have character, not instinct, they have a soul hidden under their skin and wool. Reading Darrell's books is not only instructive, but also fun, like traveling with Jerome Klapka's Jerome heroes along the Thames from Kingston to Oxford, or drinking wine aboard the Arabella with the pirates of the noble Captain Blood. But you still have to keep your eyes open. Fangs are not teeth, and claws are not fingers. This edition of selected works by the famous English zoologist and traveler, one of the cult figures of the twentieth century, includes four of his popular novels — "The Animals in my Life", "The Way of the Kangaroo", "Catch me a Colobus" and "The Manor Menagerie", which contain the colors of earthly nature and the riot of life, unfettered They inspire us with hope that the planet Earth, in its long journey around the Sun, will not lose its course and will not turn into a dehydrated desert, where there are no colobuses, no kangaroos, no forests, no air — nothing but wind playing with shadows.