WHAT BUGS THE ENTOMOLOGIST
There’s a stark difference between scientists who devote their life to study great bodies – like stars, galaxies, black holes and antimatter – and those who concentrate on tiny ones. In this case insects. Astronomers are notable for their bold physical features – bearers of telescopes! – the thick frame of their eyeglasses and a rather unkept hairstyle. Entomologists have delicate features, instead, with fragile hands mapped by a delta of blue veins and a spider legs’ vibe in the way they harp the air with restless fingers. They also have something insect-like in the way they move around, dress, eat and mate together. By living most of their time at close contact with tiny creatures, they gradually adapt their behaviour, circadian rhythms and routines, turning themselves into Kafkaesque animals. And William Kirby, the father of modern entomology, is no exception. He was so much into bugs’ life that his peers nicknamed him, not without a hint of sarcasm, Mr. Big Bug.
Grasshopper Explained – from “A Century of Insects” by W&W Kirby
William Kirby had a twin sister named William. The mother, a young widow who suffered from poor memory and had to raise her children in poverty, had to be very practical. By calling both children this way, she could kill two birds with one stone. By shouting “William! Dinner is ready!”, for instance, brother and sister showed up at the table at once. The two siblings ate together, played together and slept together. When they grew up, they even worked together and William had been very close to William, helping her brother to catalog more than five thousand insects in the time span of twenty years. In the summer of 1889, William drowned in the pond near their house while trying to catch a spotted dragonfly. William’s death raised many questions, last but not least, the guilt for William and William’s alleged promiscuity or the sister’s clumsy attempt to be an epigone of Virginia Woolf, a writer she particularly liked because her name sounded a bit like Wolf and it was no secret William loved wolves.
William Kirby never recovered from William’s tragic death and his mental conditions started to deteriorate quickly. He developed, in later years, an aversion for the insects’ world and his anger, frustration and madness are clearly visible in the hasty, dismissing style of the pages we publish here and that are forming part of the last chapter from his book “A Century of Insects”.
Five years after William’s death, William joined his beloved sister’s destiny. William and William Kirby are buried in the same place, under one name, one date of birth and two dates of death. Entomologists from all over the world come to pay tribute to their memory and their priceless contribution to a better understanding of all these fucking insects.
William and William Kirby had a coarse sense of humour and they used to hang this sign on the front door of their Lab, when they were out, collecting insects from their garden. If you’d like to book a visit at the Kirby Estate in Shoshoni, Wyoming, or you want a copy of “A Century of Insects”, please contact us at postmaster@brandpowder.com
