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3.82 AVERAGE
3.82 AVERAGE
“All the way home on the train I thought of Dad and the terrible mistake I had made. I’d thought that to heal my great hurt, I should flee to the wild. It was what people did. The nature books I’d read told me so. So many of them had been quests inspired by grief or sadness. Some had fixed themselves to the stars of elusive animals. Some sought snow geese. Others snow leopards. Others cleaved to the earth, walked trails, mountains, coasts and glens. Some sought wildness at a distance, others closer to home. ‘Nature in her green, tranquil woods heals and soothes all afflictions,’ wrote John Muir. ‘Earth hath no sorrows that earth cannot heal.’
Now I knew this for what it was: a beguiling but dangerous lie. I was furious with myself and my own unconscious certainty that this was the cure I needed. Hands are for other human hands to hold. They should not be reserved exclusively as perches for hawks. And the wild is not a panacea for the human soul; too much in the air can corrode it to nothing.”
I have conflicting feelings on this book. On the one hand, some of the writing is drop dead gorgeous and brought tears to my eyes at certain points. I absolutely loved learning about the surprisingly deep history of falconry and those who engaged in the practice. Interlacing Macdonald’s story of training a goshawk with T.H. White’s experience I thought was an incredibly clever way of organizing this memoir.
On the other hand, there were many times throughout this book where I was incredibly bored and wished that Macdonald would talk about something else. During long passages about T.H. White I wished she would instead write about her goshawk. During the goshawk training sections I then wished that she’d instead write about her grief (which is practically its own character in this story).
Perhaps this says more about the (less than ideal) mental state I was in while reading this book rather than its content and writing. I completely understand why people tout this book - there are some incredible moments, but the moments where I wondered if I should put the book down were unfortunately more numerous.
Now I knew this for what it was: a beguiling but dangerous lie. I was furious with myself and my own unconscious certainty that this was the cure I needed. Hands are for other human hands to hold. They should not be reserved exclusively as perches for hawks. And the wild is not a panacea for the human soul; too much in the air can corrode it to nothing.”
I have conflicting feelings on this book. On the one hand, some of the writing is drop dead gorgeous and brought tears to my eyes at certain points. I absolutely loved learning about the surprisingly deep history of falconry and those who engaged in the practice. Interlacing Macdonald’s story of training a goshawk with T.H. White’s experience I thought was an incredibly clever way of organizing this memoir.
On the other hand, there were many times throughout this book where I was incredibly bored and wished that Macdonald would talk about something else. During long passages about T.H. White I wished she would instead write about her goshawk. During the goshawk training sections I then wished that she’d instead write about her grief (which is practically its own character in this story).
Perhaps this says more about the (less than ideal) mental state I was in while reading this book rather than its content and writing. I completely understand why people tout this book - there are some incredible moments, but the moments where I wondered if I should put the book down were unfortunately more numerous.
challenging
informative
slow-paced
Struggled with this. Didn't finish it
emotional
informative
reflective
slow-paced
Biographical-historical-cultural rant on hawking. Not an unknown genre is Britlit, but exceptionally well done and with a female voice.
This book is a winner on a number of fronts - it plumbs the depths of human frailty, sensitively describes the plight of an early 20th century author who suppresses his homosexuality and suffers greatly for it,inspires the reader to call her father because of how acutely she feels the author's grief over loosing her own, but the very best part is reading about hunting with a goshawk, having it trail you through the woods and live along side you. Strong recommend for lovers of birds, nature writing and how-i-dealt-with-my-grief memoirs.
Probably an unpopular opinion, but I did not enjoy reading this book as much as I had hoped. The description of nature, though beautifully written, was too extensive for my taste. The idea of the novel was good but not for me. I struggled to finish it, but I'm glad I did because I did like the ending. I would never not recommend reading a certain book, especially a memoir. It just wasn't my cup of tea.
emotional
informative
reflective
sad
tense
slow-paced
emotional
informative
reflective
sad
slow-paced
challenging
reflective
medium-paced