Tyger, Tyger

I saw a living tiger last week. Even behind a glass plate it was the most majestically beautiful creature I have ever seen. I finally understood the spirit of William Blake’s poem, which as a girl I used to think was a bit simplistic! What did I know?!

How could anyone want to kill something so divine? What is it in the European that makes us so murderous towards other species? Oh yes, of course. It’s our hubris in believing the propaganda that we were made in some god’s image. Balderdash! Even if it were true, it would definitely have been an evil god for sure.

I remember reading somewhere that before the Dutch landed in Indonesia, the natives revered the tiger as the guardian of the forest. (Don’t ask me where I read it, it really was a long time ago and I can barely remember what I did this morning!)

If someone was unfortunate enough to wander into the forest and get eaten by a tiger then it was their own fault for trespassing in another’s realm. And then came the Europeans and neither tiger nor forest were revered anymore. No wonder we are on the edge of self-extinction. We deserve it.