While this isn't fiction, it describes a world and a set of values so different from ours that it feels unreal; specifically, the continuous casual slaughter of wildlife reported by Darwin with perfect equanimity. He describes a ride around the Falkland Islands accompanied by pair of gauchos. At one point they kill a wild cow with a knife. It's a long and bloody process that ends when the exhausted animal is sufficiently subdued that one of them can run in and stab it in the neck. They cut one slab of meat for the evening meal and leave the rest lying in the rain. Darwin is effusive in his praise for the quality of the grilled meat. He also describes the Falklands Fox, a dog-sized critter so tame that the settlers amuse themselves by luring the animal with a piece meat on a stick until it comes close enough so they can stab it with a knife. The details are recorded with an appalling air of calm, scientific detachment. It goes without saying that Falkland Fox is no more. It's unfair to censure Darwin for reflecting the values of his time and wildlife was so abundant then as to seem infinitely renewable, but knowing what we now know it all seems primitive, brutal and stupid.
Obviously there's more to the book than that. I learned, for instance, that Sweden is too cold for rabbits. Hopefully things will pick up when we get around Cape Horn and out of the Atlantic. Cheers , Hermetic.
= new reply since forum marked as read