Abstract

The Lapwing once had many regional names; the Loon has a British-American identity crisis and the respectable-sounding Apostlebird is often called a Lousy Jack. Why do bird names, both common and scientific, change over time and why do they vary so much between different parts of the English-speaking world? Wandering through the scientific and cultural history of ornithology takes us to the heart of understanding the long relationship between birds and people.

Lapwings, Loons and Lousy Jacks uncovers the stories behind the incredible diversity of bird names, explains what many scientific names actually mean and takes a look at the history of the system by which we name birds. Ray Reedman explores the natural history and folklore behind bird names, in doing so unlocking the mystery of the name Scoter, the last unexplained common name of a British bird species.

The work of Reedman was very extensive, he explored the confusions and contradictions in the naming of birds, involving about 10,000 species, but also the ongoing discoveries of ornithologists, the fashions of an age, the passions and opinions of individuals that were causes and effects of so many names. To read nearly 300 pages of this book is very easy and the contents show the very deep research carried out by the author in consulting many bibliographic sources, certainly more than those reported in the book, and present in his library. This very nice book deserves to be present in the library of the inquisitive scientist.

[A] very content-rich, informative and enjoyable book, well worth seeking out for those birdwatchers who are curious about naming etymologies.

...Reedman’s book on the ‘how and why of bird names’ makes for good reading; informative, sassy, and here and there argumentative. Reedman does not refrain from giving his opinion about bird names and this just adds to the spice of the book. Buy it, read it, enjoy it, as I have done.

... an eventful journey spanning the full spectrum from Greek mythology, through Chaucer to the undergarments of Queen Isabella. [...] It is an exceptional reminder of how much linguistic diversity, heritage and history is hidden in our bird names.

It is a playful, well informed personal meander through the technical stuff of ornithological nomenclature, explaining how and why bird names have evolved as they have. Yet it is also a book that takes pleasure in the ideals that humans have entertained about nature, and also in the delightful serendipity that has been at play when birds were christened.

He writes as a birder, but also, as is very evident, as a man whose professional life has revolved around languages and literature, and I fear that in trying not to create a serious work of reference he has failed! I think I shall go back to this book again and again.

This new book by Ray Reedman is a delightful addition to this subject, combining Ray’s love of birds, language and history... A fascinating read.

A book you’ll keep picking up to discover more.

These stories are narrative natural history at its finest! I don’t mean to be cliché, but if I’m honest, I have to say that one of the things I find most appealing about how the British approach natural history is their uncanny ability to make it simultaneously erudite and homey. ... Whether for education, reference, or simple personal enjoyment, Ray Reedman’s Lapwings, Loons and Lousy Jacks is a book that should most certainly be added to the libraries of naturalists, birders, and the generally curious. Its rich and well-composed content will well merit repeated reading – both in part and in full (indeed, I have already found myself repeatedly returning to its pages after my own first reading of it). Furthermore, it will stand the test of time, for even when some of the names Reedman explains have since changed (and as he so well explains, they someday will), Lapwings will remain as a point of reference to what – and more importantly why – they once were.

I approached Ray Reedman's splendidly titled book with enthusiastic anticipation. I am currently producing a set of prints of birds, using their old and often long forgotten names for the titles. I hoped to find stories about the derivation of these names and perhaps come across new ones to inspire further pictures in the series. I was not disappointed.

Ray examines how generic names developed until men like Linneaus tidied up the nomenclature and gave us universal names in Latin which most could agree with and accept. However, he points out how the accepted lists are still evolving with regular changes and up-dates, as scientific research reveals fresh evidence to lump or subdivide groups of species. Ray is not put off, rather he finds it all adds to his enjoyment of language and the stories that the names have to tell.

The first three chapters take us on a journey to explore the historical roots of language and the evolution of the names we use today. These are eminently readable, fascinating and often entertaining, but I was keen to get to chapter 4, "The Names and the Stories," where Ray deals "with the specific aspects of British bird names." This forms the bulk of the book and here I hoped to find new names to inspire new pictures.

My grandfather's house was called 'Culverwood' which I always assumed was a reference to pigeons. Ray confirms this, although I was surprised to see that 'Culver Duck' was also a local name for the common Eider, a corruption of Cuthbert, the monk who created a reserve on the Farne Islands.

Oystercatchers are a favourite subject of mine but now I have a new and more appropriate name, 'Mussel Cracker', which I must help to restore! My other pied shorebird favourite, the Avocet, has a number of names, but none quite appeal and I guess I will stick with Avocet! I have probably done more pictures of Lapwings than any other species and titles the most recent by their old name, 'Pie-wipes'. I had not realised, until I read Ray's account, that 'wipe' refers to the Lapwings' crest. There are gems like this on every page and I wished I had read page 146 before calling my newest print 'Shore Larks', when 'Horned Larks' would have been a better choice.

Ray is obviously a much travelled birder and his encounters abroad greatly enliven the text. In the last section, 'New Horizons', he takes us on birding trips to North America, Australia and Trinidad, with many stories of the birds, their names and his own "treasured memories".

The book concludes with legends and myths behind many of the names. Clearly those ancient Greeks were also great birders!

Ray Reedman combines his love of birds and travel with a deep understanding of language and history. As a retired Senior Master of a successful independent school Ray rekindled a life-long love of the natural world by teaching courses on ornithology and travelling the world to watch birds.