Book review… A life that shone bright!

Jul 26, 2020 Book Review…, News

Book: Theodore Thomson Flynn – Not Just Errol’s Father
Authors: Tony and Vicki Harrison
Critic: Glenville Ashby, PhD

Scientist Theodore Thomson Flynn might have been dwarfed by Errol, his celebrated son, but in the field of academia, in particular, marsupial embryology, his contribution is legendary.
Authors Tony and Vicki Morrison paint an authentic and unembellished picture of Flynn’s early years. We draw our own conclusion on the extent that his father’s infidelities and his parents’ wrangling shaped his behaviour. Surely, Flynn took a page from his father’s book and proved very much a lady’s man, but overriding all else was his brilliant mind
Flynn was born in 1883 to a shipwright who was far from financially secure. He proved astute, academically punctilious, and mature in his teenage years. He showed a keen interest in the sciences and became a pupil-teacher serving his apprenticeship in Hillston, located 900 miles west of Sydney. It was an arduous assignment. Apprentices were 13-16 years and received instruction from a principal teacher before and after school.
Flynn immediately showed flashes of poise and intelligence. He was never tardy and was characterized as “diligent, obedient and attentive to his duties.”
Sharply moulding his interest in marsupial anatomy was Professor James Peter Jill, a revered figure with whom Flynn later collaborated at the University College of London.
Flynn’s appointment as biology lecturer at Tasmania University at the time of his marriage to Lily Young in 1909 chartered a new professional direction. In his new assignment, he was innovative and adventurous.
He was balanced, dedicated to his professional vision but equally indulgent, displaying the least diffidence in non-collegiate activities. We learn that Dr. Eric Guiler, “one of Theo’s students viewed him as a “very powerful personality full of drive and energy that led him to many adventures, credible and otherwise,” while another student found him genial, lively, and engaging. Flynn’s research centred on diseases of ants and animals, anatomy, and development of marsupials unique to Tasmania. His salary doubled and he enjoyed generous perks including half the year to pursue personal research. But Flynn’s lofty ambitions outpaced the budget of the university. This ruffled feathers for years. With the deficit covered by Ralston funds, he was made Dean of Science in 1911, a position (outside one year) that he held till 1920.
There are risible anecdotes that shine light on Flynn’s nature and love for work. His son, Errol, recounted his father’s “habit of keeping the animals he was studying in the back garden of his home,” and another tale of “a pet potoroo in his university room and [that] followed him around as he taught and studied.” The story continued that the small marsupial went looking for him at a ball, sniffing its way through many dancers till it found its mark racing up Theo’s trousers to “nestle into his pocket.”
During this period, Flynn assumed distinguished posts and was never short of accomplishments.
He became a member of the Royal Society, a move that advanced his career becoming a Trustee of the Tasmanian Museum in 1911. He studied the Devil (Sarcophilus urainus), the Thylacine, the Tiger Cat (Dasyurus), Bandicoots (Perameles), the Opossum Mouse (Dromica) and the Flying Squirrel (Petsurus).
“The anatomy and function of the female reproductive system became his specialty and remained so for much of his life.”
Later, he gravitated to politics as he accepted positions in the Tasmanian Fisheries Commission, marking a “parallel career and involvement in fisheries that lasted nearly 20 years.”
Flynn’s professional life was not without some glaring missteps that were scrutinized and officially addressed.
“Theo’s was meticulous in his scientific research and teaching,” we learn, “but he appeared to apply no such dispute to his record keeping.” As the expert in marsupial, Flynn was approached to supply overseas museums and zoos to which he had access. His sales became a source of dispute involving the Curator and Secretary of the Tasmanian museum. The inquiry showed that Flynn had “shown carelessness and negligence that have placed a very serious burden on the administration and are publicly discredible [sic] to the university, and “the degree of culpability comes perilously near to one which calls for drastic action.” No punitive measures were taken because of Flynn’s stellar contribution to his field.
Flynn vigorously defended his position, attributing any discrepancy to nothing more than carelessness in his part and viewed the investigation as born out of jealously.
Despite this period of disquiet, Flynn was conferred a science doctorate from the University of Sydney as he cemented his place as a leading authority in embryology. By the 1929s, his involvement in the fisheries industry grew.
His position as a board member of Tasmanian Fisheries Development Ltd helped develop the industry. He sought assistance from the State Development Board “to undertake a scientific investigation to prove the suitable months of the year for fishing, the habits of the sardines, the best method of fishing for them, and other data desirable, if not necessary.” Throughout, he diligently advocated that a centralized planning and operational institution would effect the development he sought.
As a director of the Fisheries Development Company, Flynn “outlined a very ambitious programme of research, and proposed a comprehensive study of the biology and ecology of the oyster and crayfish, and the development, recognition of larval forms…”
As he excelled in academic and public life, his finances were strained by family commitments and rescission of monies to his Chair of Biology at the University of Tasmania.
Apart from academia, the authors examine Flynn’s family life, the burden of his travels, the repeated changes in livings arrangements, and his relationship with his son, Errol, who failed academically. One of Errol’s missives proves that much: “It seems to me Dad that I’ve arrived at the crucial point of my life, next month I will be 23 and I realize I’ve reached the end of a prolonged adolescence.” He continued, “I eschewed education mainly through my own impulsiveness and distaste for the grind of the uninteresting parts. I’ve never passed an exam in my life but no doubts beset me that I could if I decided to.”
Tellingly, his father “declined to invest £300 for three years in his son’s tertiary education.”
Ironically, it was Errol’s success as an actor that eased the finance challenges of his parents. Stardom, though, was besmirched by statutory rape charges. Although acquitted, the stain lingered. Deteriorating health amid questionable life-changing decisions indicated that Flynn’s son was fast spiralling toward his demise.
The inevitable occurred in 1959. His mother, Marelle, wrote of his passing, “Great loss of Errol. My poor boy knew he hadn’t long to live but told no one…He was very fond of Theo.”
Eight years later, tragedy struck when Flynn’s wife, was struck by a car and killed. Failing health, financial challenges and the loss his son and wife took its toll on Flynn. He succumbed on October 23, 1968 at the age of 85, a shell of himself.
Flynn’s life shone bright, not only for students and scholars in the field of research biology, but everyone that knew him. Amid his human frailties, he displayed an incomparable drive for life that reflected in his scholastic and pedestrian pursuits. He optimized his every talent and was admired for his joie de vivre, his ingenuity, and his vision.
(The views expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the opinions of this newspaper.)
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Theodore Thomson Flynn – Not Just Errol’s Father by Tony and Vicki Harrison
Publisher: Artemis Publishing Consultants, Tasmania, Australia
Copyright 2019
ISBN: 978-0-646-59478-1
Available at Amazon
Ratings: Highly recommended