BOOK REVIEWS

NORFOLK BUTTERFLIES

Now that everyone has a copy of Richard Stewart’s Millennium Atlas of Suffolk Butterflies, we can look further afield, and perhaps invest in the recently published “Millennium Atlas of Norfolk Butterflies”.

Jointly written by Bernard Watts (Butterfly Conservation Officer) and Brian McIlwrath (County Recorder), this little volume has been nicely produced, and differs from the Suffolk volume, published by SNS, in several ways. Published by the Norfolk Branch of Butterfly Conservation with financial support from the Norfolk and Norwich Naturalists’ Society, this is a softback with colour photography alternating with black & white dot maps. It reports on the 12 year period ended 2000, and uses comparative data from an earlier study, ended in 1988. It seeks to provide basic identification data (which Richard Stewart’s book does not), and this extends the text of the species accounts slightly, but may help beginners. The distribution maps are good, though a critical comparison shows that Norfolk did not achieve the same degree of cover as our Millennium survey; 83% of tetrads were covered in their 12-year survey, as against 100% in 5 years for Suffolk. The decision not to use colour on the maps has also prevented the display of background information and changes in distribution.

Turning up the species not found in Suffolk leads directly to interesting information on the Dark Green Fritillary, which has been recorded from a broader scattering of sites than just its well known coastal haunts, and on the Grizzled Skipper, found along a line from the Wash down to the Suffolk border. Naturally, the Swallowtail account makes warm reading too. A comparison of Dingy Skipper, White Admiral and Purple Hairstreak records in the Brecks shows plausible continuity of cross-border distribution, though Norfolk has the lion’s share of such sites.

Each map includes an excellent computer-derived graph showing flight periods - a feature not to be found in the Suffolk atlas. Being an amalgam of many years, it evens out the early/late seasons, and gives a clear indication of when to look for a particular species in an average year. They lack the sophistication of the phenograms in the National Millennium Atlas, but are easier to read, as all the records are for Norfolk.

One anomaly is to be found in the section on extinct species, where the Chalkhill Blue is mentioned: “colonies still exist in Suffolk near the border with Norfolk”  this is a reference to the Devil’s Dyke colony, moved north by a bit of wishful thinking perhaps. A discussion with the author revealed one difference in plotting between Suffolk and Norfolk, which is relevant to such border areas. Whereas our records are for the Watsonian Vice-counties 25 (East Suffolk) and 26 (West Suffolk) and not for the pieces of Administrative Suffolk that lie outside the old Vice-county areas, the Norfolk Atlas incorporates all records from within the present Administrative County boundary. This means that a Dingy Skipper found on Barnhamcross Common would show up on both atlases!

Norfolk Branch is to be congratulated on a fine atlas, which sits nicely on my bookshelf, alongside the Suffolk atlas. Copies may be had for £6 (incl p&p) from Brian Mc Ilwrath, The Gables, The Common, Mulbarton, Norwich NR14 8JQ.

OF MOTHS AND MEN –
intrigue, tragedy and the peppered moth

Those who have studied GCSE or ‘A’ level Biology in the last twenty years may possibly remember in their textbook a photograph of wild type (cream-coloured), Biston betularia, and its melanic form, side by side, on a tree trunk. Industrial melanism in the peppered moth was included in syllabuses because it was rated as the best (only?) example of Darwinian natural selection in action. This book is an account of the work in the early 1950s of Bernard Kettlewell into the effect of melanism on the natural selection in the peppered moth, and of the arguments that his work provoked. Those arguments continue just as fiercely today. In his research Kettlewell overlooked two details: peppered moths do not normally rest on tree trunks; and birds do not normally eat them.

Judith Hooper’s story gives insights into the relationships between all the central, and some peripheral, figures in the industrial melanism investigations. Particularly fascinating are the tensions that develop between the insecure, eccentric and gifted amateur lepidopterist (Kettlewell) and his Svengali, the cold, calculating career scientist, E.B. (‘Henry’) Ford. These aspects are interwoven with scientific information and discussion, nicely balanced to keep the interest of both the technically well informed and the less knowledgeable layman.

The prose is light and finely constructed, a delight to read. The story moves with pace and is as difficult to put down as a good novel. There is a full bibliography, a useful glossary and an index. Twenty black and white photographs help to give the reader a sense of familiarity with the central characters and their places of work.

My only criticism is of Ms Hooper’s geographical perspectives of the UK: “the northern sky over Birmingham”. This is a good book that I would recommend to all for entertainment and education.

Of Moths and Men – intrigue, tragedy and the peppered moth, Hooper, J., 2002, Fourth Estate, London.

David Walker