H is for Hawk

Part of why “H is for Hawk” is so good is because it is so different. Others have had a hard time finding a category for this work; so do I. The word “passion” may be over used, but Helen MacDonald has a true dedication to falconry. Her father, a world-class photographer, passed away, and Helen turned to this sport, if “sport” is even the right word. In particular, she chose to fly a goshawk, who she named Mabel. More on why a goshawk in a moment. You will see why, perhaps, but I won’t tell you why she chose that name for the bird.

She is brave to share her story of her healing process, and I admire her for that. She exposes her emotions, thoughts, internal struggles and consequential external results, effects of grief. This is a serious narrative, but not without humor and a remarkable sense of reality. She has a unique way of showing the visuals of everyday surroundings, which she notices as clearly as a hawk does. The details one normally forgets are magnified in the memory when under stress, and it takes a talented writer to untangle these senses. She writes of things I have been unable to find words for.

The author is also brave in facing common misconceptions or prejudices. Consider, for example, humans' place in the world and in time. And consider that because hawks were never domesticated, they are virtually unchanged from the ancestral birds humans first trained thousands of years ago. Goshawks were extirpated from England, but successfully reestablished, despite the perils of breeding the species. Bits of history of war-time England are well incorporated, as are some Britishisms, or rather, words and phrases not translated to Americanisms.

She has so much deep insight from this lifelong passion for falconry, and I feel lucky to learn from her. If you've never seen these kinds of birds, you can get a strong sense from her descriptions, not just the appearance but other aspects of their being. Of course it's not the same as being in their presence, but in words, there could be no better way than here, where her fascination shines through. I turn now, however, to the classic if unorthodox “The Goshawk” by T.H. White, who wrote “The Sword in the Stone.”

I read this book in “prep” for “H is for Hawk.” When reading “The Goshawk,” the other humans are out of focus, with an almost stream-of-conscience style to begin with. White and his first goshawk are the only real people in it – others come and go, but we don’t get to know them. Helen described White as “one of the loneliest men alive,” and it was his loneliness, in essence, that I related to when reading him. I am so grateful to not be so truly alone as he was. Anyway, reading “H is for Hawk” tied the strings of my memory together, and makes more sense of White’s record.

Helen Macdonald’s writing keeps that intensity in exploring such inner struggles, and in higher focus. Rather than being the other half of “The Goshawk,” this is actually the proper opposite. It is an analysis of White, quoting his book but also journals and other personal, revealing sources. She tells parallel stories, and in many ways retraces his steps. One stark difference is that Helen knew how to train a goshawk; White did not. The other notable distinction is that Helen was not entirely alone, and found a way to bring her life back together.

While I am glad I read “The Goshawk” first, it is not necessary to do so. That story is so central to her modern one. She discusses other books that sound interesting, and now I want to follow up, and learn more about falconry. It would be so cool to experience the real thing some day. One more thing I wanted to comment on is that I don’t normally listen to audiobooks, but I think the language of this text would lend itself very well to that medium. “H is for Hawk” is, in any form, a stirring work.

Blog Bonus:

This is  a picture I took in the Czech Republic in 2007, which I thought of while reading of these European raptors.