Such observations, particularly those on reproductive biology, are related in detail in Olivia Judson's book - though some of the detail may be more than you'll want to know. Nevertheless you have to admire the people who did the observing, such as Lutz and Voigt, who happened to be twenty-five hundred metres under the sea when two male octopi had sex - with each other. Phew!
Or Steinkraus and Cross, who discovered that the female of a certain species of mites swells up like a balloon when pregnant, and that her 'children,' even before they're born, copulate together inside her belly. Good grief!
Or Jaccarini and Co, who apparently worked out that the female green spoon worm sniffs her diminutive mate up her nostril. From then on he resides inside her, in the androecium - literally the 'small man room' - where he sits happily fertilising passing eggs. Mind-boggling!
See what I mean? Other examples can hardly be cited in a non-shrink-wrapped magazine. Judson is no slouch when it comes to gory detail - and I don't just mean the fatal things female spiders do to males. Don't read this book at mealtimes.
The book's format is derived from a column Judson wrote for The Economist in 1997, and it's a superb concept. Throughout her book she assumes the persona of Dr Tatiana, an agony aunt columnist, and thus manages the considerable feat of plying us with copious amounts of research data in a palatable manner.
All
the book's 'columns' begin with questions from bewildered creatures who are
puzzled, confused, or sometimes downright cross about some aspect of their
species' sexual behaviour. Dr Tatiana's answers point out the normality (in
that species' terms) of what's going on in each situation. At the same time,
with a wicked wit, she gives us amazing insights into what goes on behind
the closed (and sometimes not-so-closed) doors of the animal life on this
planet.
Reading too much of this book at a time is a bit like watching a blue movie: after a while even sexual antics pall. On the other hand, the book is a lot funnier than most blue movies.
Judson makes frequent connections with human sexual behaviour, and her rather odd comment - admittedly in the persona of Dr Tatiana - that having seen "the prodigious variety of sexual practices out there, you'll be more tolerant of the predilections of others," may be taking anthropomorphism a little far.
Elsewhere she's argued against the idea that anthropomorphism should be kept out of biology. "I concluded this stance is misguided. Two of the greatest evolutionary biologists - Darwin and Bill Hamilton - regularly put themselves in the place of the organisms they were watching, and I think that doing so helped them to some of their most profound insights." She expects her readers to understand that anthropomorphism is a "metaphor, not a description," and thus "can be a powerful aid to the imagination."
For all her persuasive intellect, Judson is at a loss to come up with a 'why' for many of the curious sexual practices discussed in her book. She explains that she has "given her best guess based on the knowledge available. Sometimes, as a result of my research, I have come to conclusions that are different from the prevailing wisdom; thus, I hope in a small way this book makes a contribution to ongoing debates.'
Time will tell if the book contributes to such debates. In the meantime, it's likely to become an immensely useful source book for trivia buffs.