Watching the other rabbits, particularly the naturally authoritative Bigwig, realise the treasure they had in Hazel is wonderful. Hazel listens to all of those around him and leads by following whoever has the right of it, even if that means making himself look foolish or risking everything. What Hazel is though is a listener and very, very morally brave. He is not a forceful personality, not a huge fighting buck, not some natural force of charisma he probably wouldn’t be a leader if it wasn’t for it either being him or Fiver, and Fiver being even more unsuitable. It is Hazel who becomes the leader of this crew, a role he is both suited and unsuited for. Hazel is his brother, initially the only one to listen to him.

Fiver is the seer, the runt of the litter who can feel the future’s shape. Here is the real magic of the book, the sense of a band of outcasts coming together. That said, for all they are rabbits, they do have thoroughly human traits. If Hazel, Fiver, Bigwig et al weren’t rabbits, Watership Down would make no damn sense at all. This isn’t Redwall or Wind in the Willows, where if everyone was human the story wouldn’t change.

Adams did his research thoroughly and the result is animals that are quite distinctly animals. Just you have to access them through Adams thick, measured prose, intent of building the world of a rabbit as faithfully as he could. This is not to suggest the rabbits are meaningless, either as rabbits or characters. No, I didn’t enjoy the experience at the time all that much but looking back, goodness, it really is something. It is a tale of the South Downs, an area of the world I hold a singular affection for. Even in a rush I slowed down repeatedly to do just that. Adams wants you to be patient, to go across the English countryside with him and these rabbits. A wise bookwyrm remarked that “ Watership Down sets its own pace”, which is very true. As I ploughed through the hefty tome (150,000 words) to be ready in time, I griped to some friends about how this really wasn’t helping me like it. It is prose to be lingered on, prose full of lyrical descriptions of the countryside and narrator’s asides. I think the most striking element of Watership Down is its prose. Very simple stuff, just the sort of stuff you’d tell to children, but as children’s fiction goes this is a considerable act of respect for their intellect and resiliency. Watership Down, if you didn’t know, is the tale of a small group of rabbits who flee their home warren after one of their number foresees disaster.

Tales from watership down