Richard Hearn is killing time in the Booth Museum

Let’s spend some time in my favourite Brighton museum, the Booth Museum of Natural History on Dyke Road. I never tire of its calm weirdness and evocative eccentricity. Yes, you have to make it past their anti-pushchair steps, and a big bear that serves as a taxidermist’s version of a bouncer to a nervous child, but if your kids are still keen, you’re in for a treat.

I have written about The Booth Museum before in this column, just google the phrase “Richard Hearn stiff squirrel human skull” and it should either come top of the list, or you’ll get arrested. (I’ve just realised, with my knowledge of Search Engine Optimisation, that when this one goes online, it’ll supercede it.)

Since last time, The Boy’s knowledge and interest in nature has shot through the roof; I’m saying “look, an owl!” to Youngest™ whereas The Boy is informing him that it’s “a European Eagle Owl” in a world-weary manner, like a concert pianist asked to play ‘Happy Birthday’.
The next section includes a turntable where you choose some exhibit to put under a microscope. (Think of it as a kind of Lazy Susan where nothing is edible.) There is an empty place where you can choose to put your own item. It’s going to be a coin, isn’t it? Youngest™ is surprised but The Boy guesses straight away. “I’ll do something different,” I say, getting my keys out, just as The Boy says, “Is it going to be your keys?”

“A big bear that serves as a taxidermist’s version of a bouncer”

This room leads through to the beautiful and obsessive butterfly and moth area. Lit, pinned and labelled in neat rows, I find them strangely calming; I’m not sure whether this puts me closer to Damian Hirst or Hannibal Lecter. Luckily, the atmosphere is broken by The Boy nominating his various favourites and Youngest™ – not wanting to be left out – shouting out “And mine!” after every one of his brother’s choices.

In the skeleton section, I try and take a photo of The Boy and Youngest™ in front of the horse, but they both decided to make clippety clop noises and horse movements which I felt was in poor taste. Back towards the front, and Youngest™ points to the lion’s head. “That’s scary!” he says, and then to the zebra, “That’s not scary”. It gets me thinking: why is that? Is it the stripes in some way?

I’m thinking idly that a good tip for serial killers such as Hannibal Lecter would be to dress in stripes to appear more friendly, and then I realise that the moment I start thinking idly about giving tips to serial killers is a good time to call it a day.

Illustration: Paul Lewis www.pointlessrhino.com