Wednesday, April 27, 2022

THE HAWK'S WAY :: Sy Montgomery

Sy Montgomery's The Soul of an Octopus is one of the most magnificent books I've ever read, so it was with great anticipation I cracked the e-cover of her new work: The Hawk's Way: Encounters With Fierce Beauty. Although Montgomery writes about nature and its creatures in a manner that resonates with me, and I admire that she considers multiple facets of her encounters (i.e., man's impact on the natural world), I was not as enamored with this account as her others.



At the outset, it was surprisingly brief, shy of 100 pages including photos. Which is really of no import unless the book doesn't feel complete. It did seem odd in some ways, as Montgomery realizes the time and commitment involved in falconry (a two-year apprenticeship) doesn't fit with her current circumstance, so this brief foray into the mystical ways of the hawk is, well, brief.

I also admit to having some of the same hesitations as Montgomery, a known animal lover. Could she "in good conscience" take a bird from the wild (or support a breeder)? Does she really want to involve herself in a sport that uses "quail launchers" to aide in teaching a youngster to hunt?

Yet learn she does, and though brief, her descriptions of the "sport" and partnership between bird and human are fascinating. This is no normal people/pet relationship. As her mentor tells her, "If you want love out of this, you're too needy. Don't be a falconer." Rather, the falconer is training the bird "to accept you as her servant," and breaking the rules can be a bloody affair. And while you may forge a working association, your bird may never like you. In fact, it may hold a grudge for the rest of its life and will not hesitate to punish you. 

Montgomery is a master at putting words to hard to describe events, emotions and connections. It's what made The Soul of an Octopus so spectacular. Here, she's done that again, on an albeit much smaller scale. And while I cannot get entirely on board with the "sport," reading about the birds themselves is well worth the time. 


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About Malcolm Avenue Review

I was lucky enough to be born and raised in a nifty, oak-shaded ranch house on Malcolm Avenue, a wide-laned residential street with little through traffic, located amid the foothills of Northern California. It was on that street and in that house I learned most of my adolescent life lessons, and many grown-up ones to boot. Malcolm Avenue was "home" for more than thirty years.

It was on Malcolm Avenue, through and with my family and the other families that made up our neighborhood of characters, that I first learned about and gained an appreciation for the things I continue to love the most to this day: music, animals, photography, sports, television/movies and, of course, books.

I owe a debt of gratitude to that life on Malcolm Avenue. It gave me a sense of community and friendship, support and adventure. For better and worse, life on that street likely had the biggest impact on the person I've become. So this blog, and the things I write here, are all, at their base level, a little bit of a love letter to Malcolm Avenue.

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