The Afterlives of Animals: A Museum Menagerie

Biological Objects and “Mascotism”: The Life and Times of Alfred the Gorilla

Han nah Paddon Biological Objects and “Mascotism” The Life and Times of Alfred the Gorilla B iological collections have been assembled and displayed for centuries in private homes and institutions, public galleries and museums. Contemporary collections are often an amalgamation of historic rare, extinct, common, local, and exotic specimens. These specimens record the changes and revolutions in our knowledge of nature and the environment, our outlook on collecting, and the prestige attached to the collections themselves. They may also trace changes in education and entertainment and reflect societal, political, or cultural values.1 Like others in this book, this essay considers the multilayered meanings and different values that are, and can be, applied to one particular biological specimen : Alfred the gorilla. His pre-museum life is explored to illustrate how this underpins his success as a taxidermic mount in Bristol City Museum and Art Gallery. In doing so, I want to discuss the concept of “mascotism” as a way of understanding the animal-human connections Alfred generates in his postmortem life as a prized biological specimen in the museum. Later, I explore the differences in meanings and values between Alfred and other museum mascots before concluding with a wider discussion of mascotism, meaningmaking , and object biography. Biological Objects and “Mascotism” | 135 Alfred’s Pre-Museum Life Like Knut the polar bear (Berlin Zoo), recently deceased, and Lonesome George the Galapagos giant tortoise, Alfred gained notoriety as one of the biggest and most animated animal celebrities of his time.2 Residing for the majority of his life at the Bristol Zoo in England, he gained enormous popularity. Alfred, however, was not born into captivity. His life began in the depths of the tropical rainforest in the West African country of Belgian Congo (now the Democratic Republic of the Congo), where he was filmed playing in the streets of Mbalmayo, Cameroon, by a group on expedition from the American Museum of Natural History.3 There, the expedition was told of Alfred’s story by his then keeper, a Greek merchant. The baby gorilla was supposedly found clinging to his dead mother, who had been shot by a farmer during a “raid” on the farmer’s field. Suckled by a local woman (a fact that was verified after his arrival in Europe), he survived into infancy and was eventually acquired by Bristol Zoo for a staggering £350. His rise to fame began on his arrival at the zoo in 1930. Named after his benefactor, Sir Alfred Moseley, he was slated as “the only gorilla in captivity in Europe.”4 Alfred drew hoards of admirers who traveled from far and wide to visit him at the zoo. His cage was placed in a prominent position, inside one of the main entrances, for all to see. Amassing more fans and celebrity, Alfred would celebrate his birthday (the day he arrived at the zoo) in style with a birthday cake enjoyed with his chimpanzee friend. Moreover, due to the variable British climate, Alfred was anthropomorphized further by his wearing of wool sweaters, sleeping in his own cot, and being taken for walks around the zoo. As the authors Mullan and Marvin posit, “for many visitors to the zoo, the only way to appreciate, understand or feel for the animals is to impute to them human characteristics.”5 To this end, these appreciations, understandings , and feelings for animals transcend both life and death, a point to which I return when considering the animal postmortem. Alfred had considerable appeal; he was mischievous, frivolous, and, at times, amusingly nonchalant. He was notorious for his dislike of airplanes, double-decker buses, and bearded men, and was not averse to throwing items from his cage at visiting members of the public. Alfred’s tenacity, propensity for troublemaking, and larger-than-life character were complemented by his tenderness and care for the things he cherished: his keeper, Bert Jones; and 136 | hannah paddon the sparrows that frequented his cage to feed on breadcrumbs. At the height of his popularity, sales of more than twenty thousand “Alfred” postcards were recorded annually by the zoo.6 Alfred helped to curb, and ultimately vanquish, the cultural and societal misconceptions of the gorilla painted by the likes of Paul Du Chaillu, who proclaimed the animal to be a “hellish dream creature,” and Reverend John Leighton Wilson, who described the species as “one of the most frightful animals in the world.”7 Reminiscing about childhood...