Review
If you've ever thought that some of the super-rich resemble great apes or other uncivilized species, Richard Conniff declares that you are in good company. And, he maintains, the resemblances are no coincidence. Conniff takes on a David Attenborough mantle to look at the wealthy from a natural history angle - only this is mirth all the way and not the sort of thing you will ever find on the BBC's Sunday evening schedule. 'As a natural-history writer I've always assumed that individual animals, from the Australian bulldog ant to Rupert Murdoch, conform to the rules of their species,' Conniff says. He then creates his own junglescape and populates it with plutocrats, movers and shakers (and sheikhs), and the filthy rich who have come by their brass in ways that the Murdochs of this world despise. Conniff points to the tempestuous and overbearing manner of various celebrities and excuses them by pointing out that they are merely conforming to the habits of their jungle brethren such as baboons and gorillas. They can't help it - it comes with the bank account. In a wonderfully sarcastic study we learn that though all moguls are beastly, they also possess a lot of cunning and can even appear angelic. Just as a chimpanzee might quietly sit down to a tea party and entertain the kids before pelting them all with dung, so a dollar billionaire often lavishes cash on some worthy cause and gets the whole world applauding. The dung comes later, when you realize what the crafty monkey was really up to. There is said to be a serious sociological side to this book, but you'll have to look hard to find it. Mostly it is a good old-fashioned send-up of the rich and their extraordinary habits. (Kirkus UK)
Conniff, who specializes in the animal world (Every Creepy Thing, 1998, etc.), casts an inquisitive eye on the human race's big dogs in their diverse habitats, from the Breakers to Blenheim. Rich folk have bigger parties and better tchotchkes; they also live longer than the rest of us. "It's good to be king!" observed the great philosopher Mel Brooks, and Conniff uses many parallels in the animal world to show just how good it is, explaining as well how the feral people in charge got that way. Chimps and champs, of course, have essentially the same DNA, and even rats and plutocrats possess pretty much the same genome. What's true of gibbons and gorillas is true of CEOs and movie stars. Messrs. Gates, Turner, and Murdoch compete in scent-marking territories. Benevolent pro bono show-offs are much like simian bonobo show-offs, but the human alphas outdo their animal cousins when it comes to hoarding in a world where "more" always beats "enough, already." The author surpasses Veblen in his analysis of the habits of the seriously affluent in matters of food, hobbies and sex, travel, nesting and sex, high jinks, foibles, inbreeding and sex. As with lesser fauna, size matters, and so does body language. The animal illustrations are entertaining, and the fun is equaled by illustrative chitchat about people from the venerable Churchills we have read about in Burke's Peerage to the new Internet maharajas we have read about in supermarket tabloids. A limited gene pool, thin women, fat wallets, and flattery separate these special individuals from common folk. Amusing anecdotes about nouveau riche with a penchant for ballooning, and old aristocracy who "grew up with servants and practiced being incompetent from birth," serve to illustrate Conniff's point that among the truly loaded, "even the sane ones often had a special relationship to reality." A clever, invaluable zoomorphic study with a wealth of information on what makes the rich tick. (Photo insert) (Kirkus Reviews)
Product Description
Richard Coniff conducts a witty and engaging investigation of the foibles and lifestyles of that most bizarre and fascinating of animal species - the very rich, and presents them in the context of animal behaviour and evolutionary psychology.