I read this passage from Susan Daitch’s “Dispatches” section at Guernica and my head nearly exploded. How did I not know about this? I’ve read that Ota Benga was displayed briefly at the Bronx Zoo in 1906 until an outcry thankfully shut that exhibit down, but I never heard of Carl Hagenback, his insane childhood or his human-centric dioramas. Nor did I know about the preponderance of private zoos in Europe which were often poorly maintained. An excerpt:

“Hagenbeck’s father, a fishmonger with a side business in exotic animals, gave Carl, when still a child, a seal and a polar bear cub as presents. Hagenback displayed them in a tub and charged a few pfennigs to spectators interested in watching arctic mammals splash around. Eventually his collection grew so extensive he needed larger buildings to house them. These early entrepreneurial endeavors led to a career capturing, buying, and selling animals from all over the world, destined for European and even distant American zoos. Hagenback, known as ‘the father of the modern zoo,’ was a pioneer in the concept that animals should be displayed in some approximation of their natural habitat. Acknowledging little difference between humans (at least some humans) and animals in terms of questions of captivity and display, he also exhibited human beings: Eskimos, Laps, Samoans, African, Arabs, Native Americans, all stationed in zoos across Europe in reproductions of their native environments. Creating panoramic fictional spaces for his creatures, Hagenbeck is often credited was being the originator of the amusement park. How these captive people felt about the peculiar dress, language and eating habits of the spectators who came to see them has not, as far as I know. European emissaries, whether propelled by diplomatic missions or for purposes of trade, went into the world and brought back artifacts, instigated the concept of collecting for those who could afford it. German museums would come to display the Gate of Ishtar brought brick by brick from Baghdad, vast Chinese temples, Assyrian fortresses, and other treasures. Hagenbeck, a hybrid figure, ethnographer, zoologist, showman, anthropologist, capitalist, but also the son of a fishmonger, was not of this class of adventurer. A populist, okay, but also the question hangs in the margins: When did the Berlin Zoo stop displaying humans? 1931, I think, but I’m not sure.”