For me, Adam Weymouth’s Lone Wolf is all about seizing the opportunity. On 19 December 2011 Slavc, the lone wolf in question, set off on what turned out to be a long hike. Starting in Slovenia, the young wolf headed north, leaving his family behind him. By March the following year, he had crossed Austria and northern Italy, padding some 2000 km to the Lessinia Regional Park, near Verona. He met a female wolf there; she was a wanderer too. They settled down and between them initiated the first wolf pack seen in Lessinia in modern times. Their growing lineage is now well established.
A decade later, Weymouth seized the opportunity fortuitously provided by Slavc’s tracking collar to follow in the wolf’s footsteps. On his way he met shepherds, ecologists, countryfolk and many others, some of whom would have willingly thrust a stake into Slavc’s heart if they had known of his passage.
The book Weymouth subsequently wrote takes those two intertwined threads stitched onto a map of the Alps and interweaves them with other tales of migration. Tales of those humans who, seeking new opportunities or fleeing disasters, also thread their way across the increasingly hostile countries of Europe.
In consequence, the author goes beyond the obvious rewilding narrative to consider the social and political effects of migration as a phenomenon. How is it that the arrival of a few wolves or a few humans can evoke such hatred in certain quarters?
The book is full of historical, biological and political insights and rich in anecdotes:
- Charlemagne founded the louveterie, dedicated to the control of the species, in AD 812.
- Wolf couples urinate together. The pool is a symbolic wedding ring signalling their commitment to each other.
- Nazi Germany was the first nation to protect wolves, though there were none there at that time. Adolf Hitler likened himself to a wolf. The modern European far right, however, has latched onto farmers’ distress and is keen to eliminate the animal.
- In a rite-of-spring festival in Slovenia, a carnivalesque figure, Prust, is tried and executed for all the bad things that happened in the previous year, allowing the annual cycle to start afresh.
The book is also a reminder of how our perception of wolves has changed over the last century. From promotion of the idea of the alpha wolf to discrediting the thesis. From fear of wolves killing humans to the opposite stance, the equally dangerous and erroneous belief that wolves pose no risk at all.
Finally, there is a tale of hope. Nearly all the locals that Weymouth meets on his travels are resolutely against predators and believe that coexistence is impossible. Towards the end, however, he meets a shepherd couple who believe they can live with a wolf as neighbour. This reminds me of those shepherds in the French Basque country who cope with the challenge of bears, despite the hostility of their farming neighbours.
Nevertheless, for me, the book will remain an opportunity missed. Not an opportunity missed by the author, rather an opportunity missed by me. It was such an obvious book to write for someone as obsessed with rewilding and walking as I am. The opportunity was staring me in the face for ten years. And yet I didn’t see it.
Congratulations to Adam Weymouth on seeing the opportunity and writing such a fascinating book.