The Wind Masters : The Lives of North American Birds of Prey

Rating:
Summary: A Modern Fable
Review: Dunne's unusual book hovers in a crosswind. Parts natural history and literate essay; parts short fiction and pure fable, The Wind Masters imagines a new way into the minds of North American raptors. Through a series of brief narratives, one for each native species, Dunne introduces the birds of prey as individuals - moreover, as beings of thought, emotion and opinion. For a falconer prone to think of some birds as persons, it is a familiar yet still startling flight of fancy.

To Dunne's eye, the Northern Goshawk fairly gloats atop her recent kill, a snowshoe hare. She feels a satisfaction any hunter might in the successful execution of her skill and power, and in the anticipation of a good meal; as the author notes, "Who can say this isn't so?" A hunter himself, and a long-time student of raptors in the wild, Dunne's gripping portrait of a master assassin bears truth.

Were each of his subjects equally or solely lauded for their hunting prowess, Dunne's work might comprise a long cliché or worse, a sort of book-length perpetuation of negative raptor stereotypes. But it does neither. What Dunne finds worth noting of each species reflects a careful sifting of scientific fact and personal observation; he tries to find the essence of each bird and how each uniquely suits its niche. He attempts, through the form of the short story, to capture a similar holistic image of our predatory birds that was the focus of his earlier, more utilitarian Hawks in Flight. This might be a hopeless conceit for a writer of lesser skill, but Dunne manages it well and often beautifully.

"The Gray Hawk remained until just before dark and then departed - a hungry gray shadow flying swiftly and directly to roost. It wasn't lack of skill that had defeated his efforts to feed. It was the temperatures that had turned his reptilian prey to stone and sent the birds to early roosts. It was circumstance and bad luck - the luck of a raptor."

Every facet of a raptor's life, from the struggle to escape the egg to the peril of migration and the battle for breeding rights finds illustration through the individual stories. No single account hopes to convey every part of that bird's natural history; rather the commonalities between all raptors' lives are distributed throughout the balance of the book. Fittingly, the many ways our raptors die receive as much notice as do the ways they live. Sometimes a death provides the focus for the story.

"The eagle managed to stand until the raven completed his retreat. Then, surrendering to gravity, she slumped to her booted tarsi and fell forward until her emaciated keel touched the earth. Only the opened wings, spread like stabilizing outriggers, prevented the bird from falling to her side."

Rarely do Dunne's descriptions approach simple sentimentality or fall prey to the temptation of polemics. Each chapter can stand alone as a work of good craftsmanship and a careful exposition of story; in each a fair and informed picture appears of a raptor as an individual and a species unique. But the implication of man's effects, mostly negative, finds expression everywhere. In the oldest tradition of the fable, Dunne artfully imbues his narratives with cautionary, sometimes pointed details illustrating the harm our actions (and inaction) may bring. Whether or not the reader finds these details an intrusion or an obstruction, they are certainly part of every raptor's life and of the truth Dunne hopes to reveal.

Rating:
Summary: A Modern Fable
Review: Dunne's unusual book hovers in a crosswind. Parts natural history and literate essay; parts short fiction and pure fable, The Wind Masters imagines a new way into the minds of North American raptors. Through a series of brief narratives, one for each native species, Dunne introduces the birds of prey as individuals - moreover, as beings of thought, emotion and opinion. For a falconer prone to think of some birds as persons, it is a familiar yet still startling flight of fancy.

To Dunne's eye, the Northern Goshawk fairly gloats atop her recent kill, a snowshoe hare. She feels a satisfaction any hunter might in the successful execution of her skill and power, and in the anticipation of a good meal; as the author notes, "Who can say this isn't so?" A hunter himself, and a long-time student of raptors in the wild, Dunne's gripping portrait of a master assassin bears truth.

Were each of his subjects equally or solely lauded for their hunting prowess, Dunne's work might comprise a long cliché or worse, a sort of book-length perpetuation of negative raptor stereotypes. But it does neither. What Dunne finds worth noting of each species reflects a careful sifting of scientific fact and personal observation; he tries to find the essence of each bird and how each uniquely suits its niche. He attempts, through the form of the short story, to capture a similar holistic image of our predatory birds that was the focus of his earlier, more utilitarian Hawks in Flight. This might be a hopeless conceit for a writer of lesser skill, but Dunne manages it well and often beautifully.

"The Gray Hawk remained until just before dark and then departed - a hungry gray shadow flying swiftly and directly to roost. It wasn't lack of skill that had defeated his efforts to feed. It was the temperatures that had turned his reptilian prey to stone and sent the birds to early roosts. It was circumstance and bad luck - the luck of a raptor."

Every facet of a raptor's life, from the struggle to escape the egg to the peril of migration and the battle for breeding rights finds illustration through the individual stories. No single account hopes to convey every part of that bird's natural history; rather the commonalities between all raptors' lives are distributed throughout the balance of the book. Fittingly, the many ways our raptors die receive as much notice as do the ways they live. Sometimes a death provides the focus for the story.

"The eagle managed to stand until the raven completed his retreat. Then, surrendering to gravity, she slumped to her booted tarsi and fell forward until her emaciated keel touched the earth. Only the opened wings, spread like stabilizing outriggers, prevented the bird from falling to her side."

Rarely do Dunne's descriptions approach simple sentimentality or fall prey to the temptation of polemics. Each chapter can stand alone as a work of good craftsmanship and a careful exposition of story; in each a fair and informed picture appears of a raptor as an individual and a species unique. But the implication of man's effects, mostly negative, finds expression everywhere. In the oldest tradition of the fable, Dunne artfully imbues his narratives with cautionary, sometimes pointed details illustrating the harm our actions (and inaction) may bring. Whether or not the reader finds these details an intrusion or an obstruction, they are certainly part of every raptor's life and of the truth Dunne hopes to reveal.