Watership Down
Watership Down is one of the books Mrs. G., the school librarian when I was in 8th grade, recommended. I remember loving it, but beyond that, and beyond the general subject matter of rabbits, I didn’t remember anything. Having recently acquired a pet rabbit, now seemed like the time to reread this novel about all things lapine.
It’s a marvelous book in which Richard Adams creates an utterly convincing society of rabbits, led by Hazel and ably defended by Bigwig, Blackberry, and others, and contemplates a number of meaningful questions as they escape their soon-to-be-destroyed warren in search of a new place to live.
One such question is the nature of knowledge. There are several ways of knowing explored here: the sort of mystical, prophetic vision evidenced by the rabbit Fiver, who inspires them to strike out in the first place; the natural sense knowledge on which the wild rabbits rely for survival; the essential ignorance of a small group of hutch rabbits who come into the story; the self-deluding knowledge of a warren they encounter on their journey to what eventually becomes their home; and finally, the calculating, strategic knowledge of Woundwort, tyrant leader of a neighboring warren, who receives the ultimate insult of being “not like a rabbit at all.”
Similarly, styles of leadership and governance are explored as Hazel seeks to work with his band of followers. They have ample opportunity to refine their own essentially democratic approach as they contrast their instincts with those of Cowslip, sort-of-leader of a group of rabbits dependent on men and refusing to face the risk at which this puts them, and of Woundwort, for whom power, safety and regulation reign supreme.
Adams creates a mythology, and a minimal set of religious assumptions, for the rabbit world as well, and thus storytelling figures prominently in the tale. A few of the rabbits’ myths are interspersed with the main action of the tale, and all of them feature a crafty rabbit named El-Ahrairah, comparable to the Rabbit of ancient South American tales, or the Br’er Rabbit tales. There is a Black Rabbit of Inle, who according to legend comes at a rabbit’s time to die and takes them to the next world. Most of the tales are told by Dandelion, the resident bard of the group, and their vigorous oral tradition is shown to be important — particularly in contrast to that of Cowslip and company, who have ceased to believe in any of the old myths and create their own instead.
I may be making it out to be a philosophical novel, dry and instructive. It’s not that way at all. It’s a fabulous adventure story, full of interesting naturalistic insights and facts, and full of tension and heroism. Time and again, we see that the most important characteristic of a good leader is the willingness to lay down his life, to take great risks, for his followers. Cooperation, wisdom, and a fighting spirit combine on Watership Down to create a successful society, and that puts this book in a different class than many of the more depressing ones (Animal Farm, for instance). If you haven’t read this one, or if it’s been long enough that you’ve forgotten, it’s well worth picking up.
