Monday, February 2, 2009

Vultures and Pigeon-hunters

One of the striking aspects of Audubon's description of the black vulture is the statement, which is really more of a question, on page 300 about the rational capability of vultures.  Audubon admits that the anecdote he is about to tell is "attributed to mere instinct," but states that he himself cannot help but consider to "borde[r] on reason" in the vulture.  "Border" here seems to be the key word, for the "fact" he goes on to tell is so "dastardly" (301) that it would be dismaying to consider these birds as operating under any form of reason familiar to humans: vultures, it seems, actively seek out and "devou[r] young living animals," and with great frequency.  

The border with reason that vultures approach in this case is offset by much of the rest of Audubon's description, where vultures are considered to be so driven by "habit" (298, 302) and appetite that they sometimes act contrary to their own good.  Sometimes vultures try to eat too much, or in the wrong places, or become so "lazy" (301) that they are incapable of moving without difficulty.  The dangerous appellation of reason on an animal (and a "dastardly" animal, at that) is thus briefly suggested, but immediately and emphatically retracted.  The vulture is not an animal that possesses reason or the free will that comes along with it in 19th century theory, and thus its malicious lifestyle is not a problem of reason or morality, but rather an example of a creature controlled entirely by physical appetite and unreflective habit.  
 
Does Audubon launch an implicit critique, then, on the "tyrant[s] of creation" (268) who disturb the passenger pigeon and destroy them by the hundreds and thousands at a time?  Like the vulture, these hunters, too, seem to act in the interest of desire rather than reason - they kill so many pigeons that hogs are "let loose to feed on the remainder" after one scene of "devastation" that Audubon witnesses (267), the chief motivation for which seems to be the pigeons' marketability in trade centers like New York (sold for four cents a piece [269]).  Luckily, Audubon assures us that "such dreadful havock" will not result in the extinction of this species (267). 

It is difficult not to recall the scenes Audubon describes of the gathering of vultures to devour some helpless prey when he tells how the hunters gather, as if by habit or strange custom, in the forest to kill a mass of pigeons.  They kill more than they can carry away, just as the vultures try to eat more than their stomachs can contain.  And so it is difficult not to wonder, are the humans, in this instance, also merely "bordering" on rational existence?  If the vultures fall just short of reason, on what side of the border do these pigeon-hunters lie?

1 comment:

  1. Andrew--very nice. Your reference to nineteenth-century theory would need to be clarified a bit--in its present form I don't completely understand what you mean here. The ascription of reason to bird was an 18th-century phenomenon (Gilbert White's famous Natural History of Selborne is a last powerful attempt to look at nature--and especially at birds--as powerful teachers of humanity). Paul Farber has written about this and the effect this had on the emergence of ornithology as a scientific discipline. But the really crucial point you're making concerns the interchangeability of humans and birds when it comes to their role(s) as predators. From an ecocritical perspective, this is where things become interesting. On the one hand, this identification might be self-serving: it justifies Audubon's own violence, since birds aren't "nice" either (to use his own phrase). On the other hand, Audubon also makes clear that as a human being he--and the others who kill gratuitously--could and should know better, since they're not driven by instinct (or at least not entirely). It's in this gap that the critical potential of Audubon's work is located. Excellent analysis.

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