This was a book that Barb and I read together, and both of us enjoyed it immensely.

Best-seller status usually doesn't attract me to a book. In fact, I've read very few bestsellers because I know they often gain their status through publishing-industry hype rather than quality. However, the description of this one intrigued me. It's definitely highly original as virtually all the characters are rabbits and humans are only minor characters (although their actions play key roles at crucial points in the plot). I wasn't disappointed. In my opinion, this bestseller actually deserved the hype.

Although I've classified this as general fiction, a strong case can be made that it's speculative fiction, perhaps even fantasy. Adams' rabbits are depicted as being much more intelligent than real rabbits. They have a language, a culture, a social organization system, a rich folklore (some of their "folktales" are minor masterpieces and very funny in some places!), and even a monotheistic religion with Frith, the sun, imagined as the Creator deity. It's safe to say they're highly anthropomorphized. Also, the protagonist Hazel's brother Fiver has the gift of second sight, and the ending is flavored with the supernatural.

That being said, the supernatural elements are just flavoring for a story that's essentially a naturalistic tale of an epic (on a rabbit-sized scale) earthly adventure. It's a classic quest narrative with a group of rabbits fleeing their home warren, which was brutally destroyed by humans, to find a new home and a better life. In any aspect that a human observer could physically check by observation, such as natural history, physical behavior, and capabilities, these are realistic rabbits. Obviously, their culture is the author's imaginative invention. But we don't really know what rabbits' thought-life is like or how intelligent they are. So no one can say for sure that Adams' speculations are impossible.

Adams' knowledge and love for the natural world of southern England's Downs country and the animals that inhabit it are palpable on almost every page. The novel clearly传达 the message that humans, as part of this world, are often not good neighbors. They are ruthlessly selfish, rapacious, cruel, and mindlessly destructive. Some might argue that the anthropomorphic treatment of the rabbits undermines the message. But I believe that any creature with the capacity for pain has the right to humane treatment and responsible human stewardship of our common home, regardless of its intelligence. The fact that the rabbits are so human-like in their thoughts and feelings allows Adams to use their story to convey some very real messages about human society.

Given the animal protagonists and the animated adaptation, some might assume this is a book for children. But that's not the case. Although it doesn't have any objectionable content that children couldn't read, the vocabulary level, depth of treatment, and complexity of the messages are all at a level that adult readers can fully appreciate. If this review makes you think this might be a book you could enjoy, I highly recommend giving it a try!

Watership Down is a classic that is beloved by many.

I believe for most readers, the first exposure was as a child. However, I only now read (or rather, listened to) it for the first time. It's an adventure about rabbits.

In the preface, the author categorically states that it's not an allegory, but a simple story featuring rabbits that he created for his two little girls. So, I did not search for any deeper meaning in the story.

Goodreads is filled with 5-star reviews of this book, and I do understand the appeal. It's a classic adventure story where a group of unlikely protagonists (rabbits) embark on a long and epic journey, fight against insurmountable odds, and triumph over a powerful villain using both wits and force. I really enjoyed this aspect. All the planning and action, even when it was thoroughly unbelievable, was great fun. I particularly liked Kehaar, who in my audiobook had a Norwegian accent, and it was highly entertaining to listen to his interactions with Bigwig. Of course, the prose is beautiful, and the weaved-in rabbit folktales were nice. I didn't even mind the rather long length of the book.

What I did mind a great deal, though, is just how blatantly sexist this story is. Initially, when the entire group of rabbits making the journey consisted only of bucks, I ignored it because adventure stories often have a tendency to feature mainly male protagonists. But as the book progressed, it became increasingly difficult to overlook. Not one character worth mentioning in the entire first half, whether it was a rabbit, fox, or bird, was female. And then came the worst part. After reaching Watership Down, the group of good rabbits realized they needed does for procreation. And the rest of the book is about obtaining (freeing?) a group of does from the oppressed warren under the evil rabbit so that the warren of good rabbits can survive. In the entire story, the does are only given the function of breeding stock, regardless of which warren they are in. And it's not written in a self-conscious way. So, if the rabbits are imagined as humans, the does might remind you of Atwood's famous dystopia. Now, if you think that the animal kingdom hardly concerns itself with gender equality and the stronger sex can easily be dominant, the fact is that among rabbits, the does are generally more aggressive and dominant than the bucks. So, this story doesn't accurately represent rabbits either. Worst of all, Adams created this story for his daughters. What are little girls supposed to take from this story beyond a typical patriarchally designated gender role?

I enjoyed the adventure story and the camaraderie of the group. I'm often okay with the complete omission of female characters in such stories as well. But here, the constant treatment of the does disturbed me to the extent that I felt guilty for liking the rest of the story. Maybe I'm too old for it! Or maybe some things were once accepted without question, but hopefully not anymore!

Please do not make the mistake of thinking the book is anything like the movie.

The movie might automatically make people think of trauma and terrifying childhood memories. However, the book is far superior.

It is one of the warmest tales of friendship, adventure, and courage you will ever read.

All topped off with beautifully descriptive writing and gentle humour.

Some people think this is a metaphorical story about war or religion, but it's not.

It's just a wonderful story about a bunch of rabbits.

I love this story deeply. Every time I read it, it is like revisiting my dearest friends.

I truly hope this review makes you decide to read it and that you will love it just as much as I do.

The charm of this book lies in its ability to transport readers into a world of cute rabbits, filled with their adventures, friendships, and the display of courage.

The descriptive writing makes the scenes come alive vividly in your mind, and the gentle humour adds a touch of lightness to the story.

Don't let the initial perception of the movie mislead you. Give this book a chance and discover its true beauty.

Read this for my lit fic class. I was a woman down when reading this book. In other words, it took me five months to read.

This experience was quite an interesting one. At first, I thought it would be a breeze to get through the book, but as time went on, I found myself getting more and more immersed in the story.

The characters came alive on the pages, and I could feel their emotions as if they were my own. It was as if I was living their lives along with them.

The author's writing style was so captivating that I couldn't put the book down. Even though it took me five months to read, it was well worth the time.

I learned a lot from this book, not only about literature but also about life. It made me think about things in a different way and opened my eyes to new perspectives.

Overall, I would highly recommend this book to anyone who loves literature and wants to have a profound reading experience.

When I was extremely young, I was brought to watch this movie that my parents presumably believed would feature cute and comical bunnies. Consequently, I was confronted with disturbing images of blood-soaked fields, extreme bunny-on-bunny violence, and strange, floating, and somewhat terrifying black rabbits. There was also an alarmingly bad song titled Bright Eyes. The entire experience was incomprehensible and scary, and I didn't like it. Moreover, the song seemed to be everywhere for weeks.

Zillions of years later, the scars have healed, and I finally get around to determining if all the commotion back in the '70s was warranted.

Well, by the time I reach the end of Part 2 and the rabbits have escaped the bloodied fields and settled on Watership Down, I don't really think so. It appeared to have been too easy and anticlimactic. There were no female characters. I also felt that the theme of human impact being negative and destructive was a bit too simplistic: novelists then, as now, have their environmental influence, as do we all. It's easy to suggest that humans are degrading their environment, but harder to say what should be done about it given that we are all complicit in it - and Adams makes no attempt at all in that regard.

Little did I suspect that this was merely the prelude to a tremendous adventure in which this theme would be almost entirely dropped and the focus would shift towards questions of leadership, governance, and the will to power. Or that the lack of female rabbits would prove crucial to what was going to happen next.

Now, a group of talking rabbits should really be laughable, but they truly aren't. How does Adams achieve this? Partly by creating convincing characters, which is, of course, essential to the success of any novel but doesn't resolve the absurdity of talking rabbits. One approach Adams takes is to remember that they are rabbits, not just transformed humans, which one might think would be counterproductive but turns out not to be. So these rabbits behave like rabbits, and where human cultural attitudes conflict with the general behavior of rabbits, rabbit behavior prevails. Rabbit behavior is also described in detail, from a position of knowledge. But here's what makes the whole thing truly work: The rabbits have a language, folk-tales, myths, legends, and religion all their own. The floating black rabbit from the film symbolizes death and in the book is a good deal less floaty, more corporeal, and even more terrifying. This doesn't stop the vaguely Promethean Ancestor-Father-Trickster-Rabbit of rabbit legend from taking him on, though!

This matter of a society having a history that merges into myth and legend, a language that is convincingly represented, and religious or spiritual elements in its culture seems to me to be a common factor linking the best works of fantasy (and what could be more fantastical than a group of talking bunnies?). People discuss world-building in relation to fantasy and SF. I would suggest that these aspects of the world to be built are crucial.

The rabbit-language is so skillfully handled that when Bigwig tells his nemesis to "Silflay hraka," it has all the offensive force of any crude one-liner a Hollywood action star has ever delivered and suits the moment perfectly. Was that in the film? I can't recall, but it should be! This occurs during a denouement that has several perfect moments and becomes another folk-tale added to the rich store of stories kept in the warrens of the Lapines.

So the unsteady start of Parts 1 and 2 turns out to be, in part, well thought out and necessary for what comes later and, in part, simply forgettable once immersed in the drama of Parts 3 and 4, where even the humans turn out to be not all bad after all.

“There’s a thick mist between the hills and us. I can’t see through it, but through it we shall have to go. Or into it, anyway.” This is how this classic and epic tale of adventure commences. In fact, it could be the start of any venture into the unknown. Chances are, we have all faced that same thick mist at least once or twice in our lives. We are unsure of how we will make it through or what lies in wait for us on the other side, yet through it we must go.

This is a story about Hazel, Fiver, Bigwig, and their group of rabbits, but it is so much more than that. One can choose to read it simply for the storytelling, which is both entertaining and a bit nerve-wracking! Or the reader can delve deeper into the themes of belonging, survival, democracy, and authoritarianism. Naturally, given the current political climate, my mind instantly zeroed in on the democracy versus authoritarianism aspect. I don't think any reader could avoid thinking in those terms if they were to pick up this book today.

“When he had explored the limits of his own strength, he set to work to satisfy his longing for still more power in the only possible way – by increasing the power of the rabbits about him. He needed a bigger kingdom.” This particular quote refers to General Woundwort, the leader of the militaristic society, Efrafa, but it sounds disturbingly familiar. Richard Adams couldn't have foreseen the future, but he could look back at the past and surely knew that history has a tendency to repeat itself. Moreover, Adams would have been astute enough to understand man's place in the world and the way he can cause great damage to our planet. It's a warning that has reverberated across the decades since this book was written. I'm glad to finally add this classic to my “read” list!

“There’s terrible evil in the world. It comes from men… Men will never rest till they’ve spoiled the earth and destroyed the animals.”

I watched the 1978 cartoon adaptation of Watership Down when I was very young, probably under 10 years old. I had no prior knowledge that this film wouldn't be a typical cartoon adventure about rabbits. As a result, the mature themes, especially the brutality and bloodshed, left a lasting impression on my developing mind. There are certain frames from this film that I can still vividly recall in my mind's eye, even decades after watching it.

I've always been curious about the book, and for reasons unknown to me, I finally got around to picking it up recently. Based on my memories of the film version, I was anticipating Game of Thrones with rabbits, expecting a continuous stream of death and despair. However, that's not what I got. Yes, this is a mature book that realistically and honestly portrays the rabbit's place in the world, and it doesn't shy away from the harsh realities of their position in the food chain. But I was expecting one crushing tragedy after another, and instead, I got a much more balanced depiction of the rabbit's life.

I wasn't disappointed that my expectations didn't align with the book's contents.

This was a slower read for me. But I have to admit that this can be attributed, at least in part, to the circumstances surrounding my reading of the book. I was extremely busy while reading this, and the only time I had to read was just before bed. The book didn't keep me up. I was asleep in under fifteen minutes almost every night (after the old Kindle repeatedly hit me in the face as I dozed off). Structurally, it didn't feel like a novel. It felt like a collection of interconnected stories (or a fix-up) until about the halfway mark, when we're finally introduced to the book's central conflict. Another aspect of the book that made it a slower read for me was the stories within the story about rabbit folklore. These stories, in themselves, I found entertaining, but they did disrupt the momentum for me each time.

Overall, I really enjoyed this book, and I think it will remain in my memory for years to come. It's a rich book with a layered narrative. There are beautiful passages scattered throughout. The obvious respect for nature and the passion for nature's beauty provide a nice contrast to the harrowing events of the story. The narrative initially has a biblical tone, then becomes dystopian. It suddenly veers into a heist story, returns to dystopian mode, and finally settles into a tale of an all-out resource war. Interspersed between all of these shifts in narrative structure are stories within the main story, stories told among rabbits: their creation myths, tall tales of their legendary heroes, and stories of what lies beyond death and the Black Rabbit waiting there to greet all rabbits when they stop running.

I would definitely recommend this book. However, be aware that this is a book to be savored, not devoured.

I first read this book when I was approximately 20 years old. At that particular time, I was completely enthralled by the characters, the captivating story, and the thrilling adventure it presented. The experience was truly immersive, as if I had been transported into a different world.

This week, 20 years later, I decided to re-read the book. To my surprise, I felt the same way as I did back then. However, this time around, I was not only captivated by the story but also deeply moved by the art of storytelling itself and the profound exploration of the power of stories and myth.

There were a few moments during my re-reading when I temporarily lost my suspension of disbelief. I found myself imagining the rabbits in the suggested scenarios and couldn't help but burst into fits of laughter. It was a lighthearted and enjoyable moment that added an extra layer of charm to the reading experience.

All in all, this book is a remarkable triumph of storytelling. It has the ability to engage readers of all ages and transport them into a world of adventure, imagination, and profound thought. I highly recommend this classic, especially for any readers under 25 who have a passion for a great adventure. It is a book that will leave a lasting impression and inspire a love for literature.

I remember when Watership Down was first published in 1972. It was a novel by an unknown English author, Richard Adams. All of a sudden, the book Watership Down was absolutely everywhere. People were reading it on buses, trains, and park benches - all over the place. It captured everybody's imagination.

Six years later, the animated film came out, and it all happened all over again! If, glancing at the cover, you asked any of those readers "Is this a book about rabbits?" the answer would be a hesitant yes. Yet if you then asked, "So is it a children's book?" the answer would be a firm "No!" It includes explicit details about warrens being gassed, rabbits snagged in barbed wire, about torture under a totalitarian regime, and descriptions of savage and bloody conflict.

From the first paragraph onwards, the style of writing indicates its focus group. The prose is too rich and complex for children; the concerns are those of adults. There is breathtaking lyrical description in Watership Down. Richard Adams shows a detailed knowledge of the natural world in which the rabbits live, specifically the English countryside.

"Watership Down" is an actual hill in Hampshire, near the village of Kingsclere, just a few miles away from the area in Berkshire where Richard Adams grew up. The locations are geographically accurate, even to the little maps which are included. Growing up in a rural area in the 1920's, Richard Adams had the sort of country childhood which no longer exists. Much of his time was spent alone, and this fired his imagination and his passion for make-believe, based on his direct experience of nature.

Facts about little-known wild plants and flowers and their growing seasons, the creatures of the countryside, their habits, behaviour and terrain, are all interwoven in the narrative so that the reader absorbs this alongside the story, and becomes immersed in the English landscape. It is a rich and satisfying experience; the language is to be savoured. As well as writing other fantasy novels, Richard Adams went on to write the factual book "Nature Through the Seasons" three years later, and much of that information is incorporated here. He credits another writer, R.M. Lockley, for teaching him about the characteristic behaviour of rabbits through his book "The Private Life of the Rabbit".

Of course, it is not merely the depth and wealth of description which sets this aside as an adult book. The broad story-line of Watership Down concerns a small, ever-changing group of rabbits, led by Hazel and his little brother Fiver, in an attempt to escape their warren. Rabbits are prey animals with "a thousand enemies". It is a serious business to leave a safe home and risk living in a vast world of unknown predators. There is no evident threat; Sandleford Warren is secure, stable and happy. Why should they leave? Thus we have conflict from the very start.

We also have an other-worldly dimension, since Fiver has a strange premonition of doom coming to their warren. And Hazel, although the dominant one of the two, believes and respects Fiver for his inexplicable, almost psychic, abilities, since they are often right. Fiver is runtish, often very twitchy and full of foreboding. He cannot explain his feelings, and dark dread of a catastrophic event for the warren, even to himself. But his prophetic visions always mysteriously carry conviction. And his main vision, of a rabbit paradise, is a positive one which urges the rabbits to keep steadfast.

"I know what we ought to be looking for - a high lonely place with dry soil, where rabbits can see and hear all around and men hardly ever come. Wouldn't that be worth a journey?"

Fiver's vague premonitions come at key points during the book, and are essential to the plot, moving it along, often creating tension and arguments between the rabbits as they do so.

Hazel is less intelligent and ingenious than some rabbits, yet he is a born leader. Bigwig, the freedom-fighter, is stronger and bigger than Hazel, but Hazel makes a much better leader because he can think for the whole group, and is able to see immediately how to work cooperatively and use each member of the group's special skills, in order to best benefit them all. For instance, it is higher-achieving rabbits such as Blackberry, who can work out how to free rabbits living in a hutch, or how to use a boat. We see that clever rabbits value ingenuity over intellectualism (even though none of them can actually count to five).

It is unnatural for rabbits to travel overland together away from their safe warren. Throughout the book, the author refers to any unnatural behaviour for rabbits, through the characters' own self-knowledge. He keeps very close to their instinct-driven psychology, instead of heavily anthropomorphising. This is one of the great strengths of the book; its total believability in the scenario - the world - of the book. We humans too have a view of what is "natural" behaviour, and sometimes our innate natures are different from the norm, or we choose to behave differently. This depth of exploration into the characters' individual strengths and determination, and how they bond through a series of adventures, makes for an absorbing read.

Also inserted into the story are a series of little stories about a rabbit folk-hero, "El-Ahrairah". Here you may recognise heroes from many ancient cultures, stories told down the millennia; and there's even a smattering of "Brer Rabbit"'s cunning and ingenuity in there too. Humans consider trickery to be deceitful and wrong, but for rabbits it is a matter of survival. Bigwig cleverly tricks the Owsla in Efrafa into believing that he is acting alone and then he escapes with the does. Hazel tricks a cat into attacking Pipkin and himself, so that they can escape. The stories remind all rabbits that trickery means using their wits to escape a situation which may otherwise be fatal. They always have to use their ingenuity and cunning, because using force is against their nature (except in rare cases such as Bigwig and General Woundwort). Bigwig, solid and true, is a model of stamina and determination, using his brawn rather than brain, but he has unswerving loyalty, is truly courageous and ready to fight to the death for his friends. The part where he is trapped in a snare set by humans is a harrowing, unforgettable scene.

The stories are all told by Dandelion, a rabbit with a particular talent for story-telling - just as there would be a chief story-teller and recorder of important events in any tribal group. The closest human religion to the rabbits' own is pantheism. They revere Nature, and celebrate Life. Man, with his "little white sticks" (cigarettes) and "hrududu" (motors) is the enemy. Yet they also believe in an afterlife. And many stories revolve around "Frith", the rabbits' God (our sun) and the "Black Rabbit of Inlé", who is an evil tempter, a demonic character. We recognise Noah's Ark in one tale, but mostly the stories seem to be inventions which carry a flavour of ancient myth, and religion. The rabbits' behaviour too is influenced by their beliefs, such as when they go "tharn" (frozen by shock) at a particularly frightening story. Some stories can be interpreted as allegory, some as a take on religion.

One of the novel's boldest themes is about making peace with death. At the end of the novel, Hazel dies, and just after he has left his body, he looks back at his warren, seeing his home, the community he established, with many rabbits running and playing and enjoying themselves. This was his vision, and is his paradise; a place of protection, food, family and pleasure.

The rabbits see several different types of warren on their journey. A political interpretation of the first warren they come to would be socialist, since all the rabbits there are equal and no one has anything more than anyone else. "Cowslip" speaks for them, but is not their leader since he does not offer them protection from the dangers they face. These rabbits have remarkably human-like qualities. Art is held uppermost, and their highly-developed poetry and sculpture is incomprehensible to Hazel's group. They also seem to have lost their faith in the rabbit religion of Frith, and the trickster-hero El-Ahrairah, meeting Dandelion's stories such as "The Story of the King's Lettuce" with amused tolerance. (We readers however, are entranced by the stories' inclusion in the novel.)

The rabbits there are large, and live in relative luxury, but Hazel's group are unsettled by the ominous, cultish atmosphere. There has to be a reason why the word "where" is never used, and why death is a taboo subject. In fact, the rabbits of this unnamed warren live close to humans, who feed them with "flayrah" (delicacies) but set snares all around the warren. The rabbits in the colony ignore the fact that they will die horribly and prematurely, so that they can eat lettuce now.

Despite all the food, this warren feels very unhealthy and unnatural to Hazel and his group. They want to be free to roam and eat outside, and do the things that rabbits have always done, living their own lives naturally. The rabbits cannot understand how others can compromise this urge, or want to live any other way. They accept that there will always be predators, but believe that no protection from a predator is worth the loss of the chance to live a normal rabbit life. This theme continues throughout the book. The farm rabbits in a hutch have no freedom. Efrafa has to be invisible to survive, and the restrictions Woundwort has to impose to achieve this, destroy any pleasure in life for most of the rabbits there. Fiver has the insight to see that this warren with snares will be a deathtrap, because he is a natural and a visionary, never losing sight of who he is or what he wants.

This unnamed warren may seem progressive, but it is stultified, with rabbits who have lost their life-force just as much as if they were subject to a dictator. Their world view has become fatalistic, so their Art is mere appearance. The author clearly has a firm belief that true Art comes from deeper roots, older cultures, classical and traditional values and poetic tradition.

In Watership Down, the rabbits have a religion of their own, a culture and customs of their own, and even a language of their own. There are many humorous moments in the book when the rabbit language "Lapine" is not understood by the other creatures, and a common language of the hedgerow is spoken. There is a mouse who seems to speak with an East European accent, and a seagull, "Kehaar" - a lovely onomatopoeic name - who also speaks in a heavily accented dialect or patois.

All these, plus the main events in the story, of course, could be adapted into a children's version of Watership Down just as classics have been retold for children for centuries. Another aspect might need considering. I remember being rather startled by a no-nonsense, straitlaced Aunt pronouncing that "if a book doesn't have sex in it, then it's a children's book". Actually, this novel does... Once the rabbits have at last reached a place of safety, they realise they have no mates, and they have to embark on another dangerous journey. Naturally, these rabbits are concerned with procreation - they are rabbits after all!

In common with many great myths and traditional stories, Watership Down describes a journey to attain a safe place which can be made into a home. It is a quest in search of that basic urge common to all living creatures. Concerns of friendship, family, comradeship, an esprit de corps, loyalty, honour, respect are all uppermost, underpinned by courage, bravery and endurance. But these are still rabbits with essentially rabbitish concerns.

Forget Alison Uttley's modest, gentle "Little Grey Rabbit" character, or Dorothy Richard's "Tasseltip". Forget Margery Williams's "Velveteen Rabbit". Very definitely forget Beatrix Potter's "Peter Rabbit" and the "Flopsy Bunnies". These are decidedly not "little people in furry coats". There are no "bunnies" in sight here. Forget even Joel Chandler Harris's "Brer Rabbit" if you can, although aspects of El-Aharairah may well remind you of him. We recognise qualities we admire in humans, the wisdom and intermittent ability to be far-seeing, even though planning is beyond most rabbits' purview. But we also witness cunning and manipulative behaviour; behaviour which is brutish and savage.

Just as humans can use their intelligence for good or evil, so can rabbits. Yet even the most evil character in the book, General Woundwort, the founder of a rigid fascist regime, is not a cardboard cut-out or stereotype. He is a fully rounded character with whom we can empathise. We learn all about his past and what made him the rabbit he was. A charismatic personality, he developed his tough, ruthless character through strength and determination. We can understand all his actions, and see that, just as with many hated figures in history, although what transpires from his philosophy is evil, the personality behind it is not necessarily cruel or vindictive for the sake of it. He is merely an individual single-mindedly following his ethos, and performing whatever actions he deems necessary to achieve it.

And there is a neat opening left for his return. Although "General Woundwort was never seen again," he is able to survive in the wild, "So it may perhaps be that, after all, that extraordinary rabbit really did wander away to live his fierce life somewhere else."

In interviews, Richard Adams has said how the novel started. 52 years old and working for the civil service, he had never written anything before. He was driving his daughters to school when they began begging him to tell them a story. "I had been put on the spot and I started off, 'Once there were two rabbits called Hazel and Fiver.' And I just took it on from there." He would apparently think out the next bit of the story the evening before. When the story came to an end, his daughters said it was "too good to waste, Daddy, you ought to write that down." Watership Down was initially rejected by seven publishers and in the end accepted by a small publisher who could only afford a first print run of 2,500 copies. Now, of course, it has been sold in the millions and won many awards.

Two years later, Richard Adams left the civil service to write full time. His further novels include "Shardik" (1974), "The Plague Dogs" (1977), and "The Girl in a Swing" (1980). All are excellent and highly original novels, yet none is as perfectly plotted, or as well crafted as Watership Down, in my opinion. The structure of this book is well nigh perfect; the balance between all the different elements and steady progression to its conclusion superbly balanced. In 1996, Richard Adams published a sequel entitled "Tales From Watership Down". Yet Watership Down has remained its author's most successful novel. None of his other books has ever come close to reaching the critical acclaim of his first novel.

There is a superb 1978 animated adaptation, which also is not a children's film. When those delicate watercolours of the film were revealed in the cinema, everyone was very moved and impressed. There had been nothing like it before. It was pre-digital imagery of course, and it looked so beautiful and painterly. But the amazing cinematic techniques were used to evoke the whole range of human feelings. Even now, when it was shown on British television this last Christmas, there was an uproar from parents who were shocked at the savagery and all the gory scenes; images of fighting rabbits foaming at the mouth and gashes dripping with garish red blood. Its opening scenes are deceptive, showing a stylized, cartoonish rabbit-origin myth, lulling parents into a false sense of security about this graphically bloody film.

Watership Down can be read as being about an individual having a vision, or an ideal, or not letting a dictator or a totalitarian regime take over and sap any creativity or life force. The rabbits' lives in the various warrens bring up many strong parallels to existing human societies. It is tempting to view the different rabbit warrens in the novel as different versions of human government. The Efrafan warren is clearly a totalitarian regime. Woundwort and a selected handful rule with an iron fist, while all the others are stamped on and abused. Hazel's warren represents a democracy, with a leader chosen by all the rabbits, and acting according to decisions based upon the will of the group. The author's message is that this is the best way to organise society.

There are many other implications for society to be found in the novel. The events and the descriptions send a clear warning that we need to stop our destruction of animals' homes before it is too late. Watership Down is also a statement about Nature, an environmentally conscious novel, and an attempt to give us a glimpse into the beautiful yet increasingly diminishing world of woods and grasslands.

We are constantly reminded, through the rabbits, that of all the creatures in the world, only humans break rules which the rest of nature follows. Humans kill at a whim, because they can, rather than out of necessity. They unthinkingly decimate entire populations. In building their own structures, they destroy the very living space that other

Bright Eyes, Burning Like Fire.

I can't quite recall the exact moment when I first came across this harrowing story of rabbits fleeing their home due to man's destruction, all the while hoping to establish a new community in the hills of Hampshire.

However, I was also a huge fan of Colin Dann's - The Animals of Farthing Wood books, which depicted the similar harsh threats that animals face. And I absolutely adored the accompanying animated series in the 90's.

So, it's likely that I saw the original 70's movie of Watership Down around the same time.

I find it quite interesting that both books were written in the same decade.

There have been numerous examples of books being published after the writer initially created the storylines for their children.

In this case, Adams made up the tales of Fiver and Hazel for his daughters during car journeys.

I wonder if that's the reason why this has been classified as a kids' book, despite the graphic violence and suffering that some of the characters endure. Plus, generally speaking, rabbits are quite cute!

The quest nature of the story is definitely appealing, and the rabbit mythology truly enhances the narrative. However, the book's length and themes don't really seem to me to be those of a children's book.

I was first introduced to Watership Down via the TSR roleplaying game, Gamma World.

At that time, as a teenager, I was perhaps hoping for a story filled with bunnies armed with laser rifles, shooting down renegade warbots. However, the novel didn't quite meet that particular expectation. Instead, it managed to satisfy an itch for something more profound and meaningful.

Maybe I'm just a sentimental person, but I truly found a certain spiritual allure in the book. This was especially evident in Fiver's remarkable transformation from a near-psychotic runt to a leader.

I suppose I could identify with Fiver on some level, seeing aspects of myself in his journey.

Fast forward several decades, and just a few weeks ago, my eldest son, who is now on the verge of going to college, made a comment that brought back all those memories. He said, "Everything I learned about bunnies I learned from Watership Down!"

In that moment, I felt a sense of parental accomplishment. It was as if the lessons and values that I had gleaned from the book had somehow been passed on to the next generation.

Watership Down had not only touched my life but had also made an impact on my son, and for that, I am truly grateful.

I’ve dreaded writing this review.

It is a classic and deservingly so. It is a beautiful story, well written and a favorite of many including my mother. I truly wish I had read it years ago like I was supposed to.

However, it’s not for 2019. What bothered me was that the does were regular rabbits and the bucks were evolved and human-like. I don’t think I would have noticed that before now.

I’m not usually bothered by men being the “heroes”. Some of the best stories are like that. But in this case, I guess it is that there is such a glaring difference in the sexes.

It makes me feel a bit uncomfortable. I really wish I could have enjoyed this book more fully, but this aspect just keeps bothering me.

Maybe if I read it again with a different perspective, I might be able to appreciate it better. But for now, it’s a bit of a disappointment.

Still, I can’t deny that it is a well-written and engaging story, and I’m sure many people will continue to love it.