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3.82 AVERAGE
3.82 AVERAGE
I can’t say I disliked this book. I found her meditations on grief and falconry to be interesting, but I just did not understand the importance of T.H. White’s story. Perhaps this is just higher literature than my brain is ready for! ;)
Wonderful. Really, really, really good. Loved it. How else to put it?
A satisfying blend of a likable narrator's memoir, naturalism, English cultural history, and a close reading of T.H. White. Plus, just beautifully written on the sentence-level. I'll be re-reading it again, for sure.
A satisfying blend of a likable narrator's memoir, naturalism, English cultural history, and a close reading of T.H. White. Plus, just beautifully written on the sentence-level. I'll be re-reading it again, for sure.
I think I'm just not literary enough for this book. Some bits were beautifully written and I learnt a lot about hawks - I had no idea people kept hawks like this, at home etc. But I just didn't have thAt much sympathy for the author (or White) and it jumped around a bit too much for me. That said there were a few pages near the end on wildlife and immigration that really resonated.
Despite the glowing reviews and awards, for six years I resisted picking up this memoir of a woman training a goshawk while grieving the death of her beloved father. I had a prejudice against memoirs in general (Aren’t they usually just self-absorbed sob stories?) and training a hawk in particular was not my cup of tea. Then last fall I read an article by Helen Macdonald in the New York Times Magazine. “The Comfort of Common Creatures” is about the solace we can get during a pandemic lockdown from close observation of nature. Even watching an ordinary sparrow or spider outside a suburban window can calm you, lift you out of yourself, and connect you to the world. Macdonald is a thoughtful writer, her language lovely, and I was converted. When I was lucky enough to find a copy of H Is for Hawk at my local used bookstore, Bad Animal Books, I bought it without hesitation.
Macdonald is indeed a marvelous writer, with elegant syntax and surprising but effective word choices. She is skilled in describing a scene, telling a story, evoking emotion, and I like the way she interwove T.H. White’s story with her own, but …. my initial instinct was right. I read through to the end because I like her spectacular prose, but I’m just not interested in falconry, and the book never captured me. That said, her new collection of essays, Vesper Flights, is at the top of my TBR pile, and I’m eager to pick it up.
Macdonald is indeed a marvelous writer, with elegant syntax and surprising but effective word choices. She is skilled in describing a scene, telling a story, evoking emotion, and I like the way she interwove T.H. White’s story with her own, but …. my initial instinct was right. I read through to the end because I like her spectacular prose, but I’m just not interested in falconry, and the book never captured me. That said, her new collection of essays, Vesper Flights, is at the top of my TBR pile, and I’m eager to pick it up.
This book is beautifully written, and entirely about grief. Yes, there is a hawk in it, and you learn a little bit about falconry, but this is a book about Macdonald's father dying and her coming to terms with it. It's also a splendid example of why it's probably not the best idea, when you're feeling fragile, to come to depend emotionally on a bird of prey, or any animal, for that matter. I'm glad Macdonald went to a doctor to get help with her depression before it got any worse.
Her experience with grief is raw and honest, and entirely terrible. I had to stop reading this for a couple of days because it was putting me in a bad place emotionally, so make sure you're ready for it. We follow her journey through it as the little everyday blows of loss and realisation strike, while she struggles to be a good falconer, obsessively documenting everything she's doing to take care of the goshawk and create a strong bond of trust between them. Being a falconer involves letting go at some point, and trusting the hawk will return to you of their own will. This leap of faith, this letting go, helped Macdonald eventually, but getting there took a toll on her confidence, always worried she was doing something wrong when the hawk wouldn't respond in an expected way, or dealing with the reality that being a falconer means you have to let them kill their prey, and sometimes help them. It's a partnership, and it involves blood.
Macdonald also tells us a fair bit about T. H. White, the author of The Sword in the Stone, his struggles with his sexuality, and his goshawk. T. H. White was born in India, and like Rudyard Kipling, was sent by his parents back to England to attend school. As was typical for this time period, his time in school was brutal and it involved a lot of violence. I don't think did this wonders for his psyche. White published a book about his experience training a goshawk that entirely captured Macdonald's imagination when she was little. Both White and Macdonald were dealing with a lot more than a hawk while they were training their birds, and it was fascinating to see some of the parallels when things don't go according to plan. I'd love to know more about Macdonald and her goshawk, so I'm putting [b:Vesper Flights|48637750|Vesper Flights|Helen Macdonald|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1582053771l/48637750._SY75_.jpg|63662583] on my TBR for next year, in hopes there's a little continuation.
Her experience with grief is raw and honest, and entirely terrible. I had to stop reading this for a couple of days because it was putting me in a bad place emotionally, so make sure you're ready for it. We follow her journey through it as the little everyday blows of loss and realisation strike, while she struggles to be a good falconer, obsessively documenting everything she's doing to take care of the goshawk and create a strong bond of trust between them. Being a falconer involves letting go at some point, and trusting the hawk will return to you of their own will. This leap of faith, this letting go, helped Macdonald eventually, but getting there took a toll on her confidence, always worried she was doing something wrong when the hawk wouldn't respond in an expected way, or dealing with the reality that being a falconer means you have to let them kill their prey, and sometimes help them. It's a partnership, and it involves blood.
Macdonald also tells us a fair bit about T. H. White, the author of The Sword in the Stone, his struggles with his sexuality, and his goshawk. T. H. White was born in India, and like Rudyard Kipling, was sent by his parents back to England to attend school. As was typical for this time period, his time in school was brutal and it involved a lot of violence. I don't think did this wonders for his psyche. White published a book about his experience training a goshawk that entirely captured Macdonald's imagination when she was little. Both White and Macdonald were dealing with a lot more than a hawk while they were training their birds, and it was fascinating to see some of the parallels when things don't go according to plan. I'd love to know more about Macdonald and her goshawk, so I'm putting [b:Vesper Flights|48637750|Vesper Flights|Helen Macdonald|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1582053771l/48637750._SY75_.jpg|63662583] on my TBR for next year, in hopes there's a little continuation.
challenging
dark
hopeful
reflective
sad
medium-paced
Well written, enjoyed the style. Interesting story of dealing with grief and depression.
emotional
hopeful
inspiring
relaxing
medium-paced
beautifully written memoir that plunges you into grief through the lens of falconry. It pairs visceral emotional honesty with rich natural history and literary reflection.