I don't know how true these memories are, but they are my memories, so they are true enough for this. Around 34 or 35 years ago, I went into my elementary school library and talked to Mrs. Dogleash (surely Mrs. Dalgliesh, like the famous Liverpool footballer and manager, but we always thought of her as Dogleash). I needed a book. She gave me Owls in the Family. I remember the orange-gold shag carpet of my bedroom where I sat and read in the evening. I remember a flashlight and my crocheted blanket -- the one that sent out sparks in the dark if I rubbed it against my hair -- as I read past my bedtime. I remember riding my bike up the hill, deeper into our community, to get my Mom smokes (back when Canadian neighbourhoods embedded their little strip malls rather than top loading them at the entrance to their communities). I remember what was left of the prairies if I rode my bike in the other direction, passing cattle and a little slough on some nameless ranch.And as I nostalgically reread Farley Mowat's Owls in the Family, I found myself remembering the entire story as though I had only read it last week. I would start a chapter and know exactly what Wol and Weeps -- the titular owls -- would be getting up to. I imagine at least part of this is because I can still contextualize it all, since I lived my own version, sans exotic pets, in my own Canadian childhood. Mowat's Saskatchewan was not all that different from my Alberta. And all of the things Billy (Mowat's youthful self) did, riding his bike through the prairies, drinking from open water sources (mine was the river near our house), getting himself in danger without infantilizing laws and regulations of hyper-protection, these were all things I had done myself, in my own way. So maybe the memory of Billy Mowat's adventures were, thus, burned more deeply in my synapses. I dunno why, but I had to explore the reasons for my memory a bit here. What I do know is that this book was as excellent today as it was when I read it all those years ago, and I hope my son, who's standing over my shoulder as I type this, will enjoy it as much as I have -- even if our oceanside existence and our socially driven infantilization mean that he will never have the connections with Owls in the Family that I had, I hope his imagination will find wonder in a book that is all about exploration of oneself in the bigger world all around. Maybe his owls can be the crabs of Red Bum Point.
What a thoroughly delightful book.I do some part-time work in a bookshop, and an elderly fellow came in asking if we had any books by Farley Mowat, "Owls in the Family" in particular. We didn't. Nor did any of our NZ distributors have it on their lists. So I did some looking around on the net and found a place to order it from.Now, I've been collecting owls as long as I can remember - wait a moment, that's an elaboration of the facts. I've been collecting owls, probably since I began working (in the mid-70s) and definitely before my son was born in 1984. The mother of a very close friend collected them, though I don't remember noticing that until the early 70s, so I didn't get the idea before then. My collection began quite slowly, but what I did also was to collect calendars, and pictures to paste in a scrapbook, and books. No doubt there are many, many books that I haven't bought, but I just simply had to order a copy for me too when the order for this went through.It was a pretty good bet that a much-loved children's book (much-loved by somebody I could speak to, not somebody's 'published' list) would prove good value, but there was a chance that I'd dislike it. After all, I've never liked Enid Blyton's work (sorry to all you fans) but she's apparently quite popular again. But I wasn't disappointed in this charming 60-year-old story of a boy and his pet owls.Mowat's love and respect for nature is so evident, while his turn of phrase comes across as a boy talking, not the 40-year-old man he was when he wrote this book. Mowat is still alive (as I write this review) and has spent his life as a conservationist - well-known throughout Canada, and named a 'national treasure' on one website I looked at. He's definitely worth a read.
Do You like book Owls In The Family (1996)?
A cute little story I read for my World Lit for Children course. Made me remember all my horrible attempts to catch wild animals for pets when I was a kid. I distinctly remember rigging traps with a box or a crate over some sort of animal food, propped up with a stick that had string attached; it never caught me the groundhog next door. I also definitely never managed to catch any birds with my genius method of leaving a trail of bird seed right up to a birdcage with an open door, though I tried numerous times. Billy had a lot more success in this book than I ever did! And I was super glad the owls didn't die at the end, whew.
—Amy
Synopsis: A boy from Saskatoon adopts a pair of owls.Thoughts: Gosh, they don't write books like this anymore. The synopsis above really isn't leaving much out: kid finds some owls, they live in a chicken-wire enclosure in the backyard, eventually (spoiler alert) they have to go live on a farm somewhere. Not a euphemism, by-the-by, they actually go to live on a farm somewhere. Contrast with a recent and popular children's book series about owls, wherein a heavily-personified rag-tag bunch of owls bands together to fight against some other, more sinister owls, and there's brainwashing and battles and a 3D motion-picture and video game. Now, I haven't read Guardians of Ga'Hoole, so I don't know: it might actually be great. I'm just saying, it's a far cry from the simpler, charming nature-musings of a young boy growing up in rural Canada in the Great Depression.But when I wrote above, that they don't write books like this anymore—I mostly meant that I don't think kids are allowed to act like this anymore. In the first chapter, the narrator and his friend are climbing trees to steal eggs out of birds nests, and carry them in their mouths to keep them safe as they come back down. Various wild animals are capture and kept as pets, and then dressed up and walked down the street by children in a parade. It seems strange that the children's love of nature is so strong, and yet it compels them to extend a domesticating influence over all these animals who might better be left in the wild. I feel like kids growing up today would be exhorted to look, but never to touch or interfere with the wildlife. It is almost startling some of this mischief that the youngsters got up to in those days.Rating: Four stars. The charm of the book outshines its datedness.
—Zack
Great book about a young boy and his pet owls. Taken from life experiences of the author, it is a fun book to read aloud with your children. My boys (4 and 6) laughed at many of the adventures. I thought it was a good, wholesome book. I also looked forward to seeing what happened next - the adventure is high and unpredictable.There are a few topics that may make some parents uncomfortable - there are two chapters that have a bit of bullying and animal cruelty. They are not graphic, just the author's real life experience. I took the opportunity to talk with my children about it as we read - book are a great medium to help children start to formulate their own understanding of the world (the good and the bad).This is a book we will reread in a few years.
—Amanda Cram
