Magpies: The Clarinets of the Australian Bird Orchestra

The sun warm on my back, soft grass under my feet, blood surging as I sprinted…I revelled in the joy of being alive. Until the sudden impact on my temple brought me to a full stop. Fingers found blood trickling from my head and pain grew steadily. What hit me? I recalled then the whoosh of wings and the flash of black and white just after the impact.

There were a few tall gum trees on the edge of the park, about seventy metres away. A couple of magpies wheeled in the air above them, one swooping in little forays towards me now and then. So there was the culprit! I was a victim of that common springtime event in Australia—a magpie strike.

That was many years ago. I still love running but these days the enjoyment is always tempered by vigilance from September to November, when the magpies are guarding their nests from any other life-form trespassing into their territory. Many runners, cyclists and even walkers deter magpie guerrillas by wearing sunglasses on the back of their heads. The birds won't attack if they think you’re looking at them, only from behind.

Nevertheless, Australians have a soft spot for maggies, as we call them. Why? Another personal experience gives the answer. Lying in bed recently, in the stillness before a cool autumn dawn, I was treated to one of the most beautiful musical performances of my life. A group of magpies was carolling in the red gums outside of our cottage. One would begin with a phrase that soared through a couple of octaves, and another would join in with its own phrase somewhat lower. This continued for a while before they paused and began again. It must have lasted for about half an hour. The exuberance of these concerts is something beyond words.

I found this female magpie foraging for worms in my backyard.

In the bird orchestra the magpie is the clarinet, with a vocal pitch-range of about four octaves. Its versatility with various timbres and patterns—to me they qualify as melodies but some might not agree—is amazing. Add to these attributes a gift for fast learning and you will understand why the magpie is also a wonderful mimic of other birds and animals. What's more, if they spend enough time close to humans they pick up some of our frequent words.

I wonder whether they might even love to make music with us. A couple of times I’ve left the window open while I give a student a singing lesson only to hear one or two magpies at the front of my house join in. It gave such a sense of unity with the natural world!

Another reason I've had maggies on my mind lately is that they feature prominently in fiction I’m writing. Some of it should be published before long and I’ll let you know where to find it.

A Quest for Personal Authenticity

A Stop in the Park

by Peggy Panagopoulos Strack

Within the fiction genre commonly labelled “coming-of-age” or “rite-de-passage”, one could perhaps nominate a sub-category with a title such as “self-realisation”. I’d place Peggy Strack’s novel under that heading. The quotation from Wayne Dyer (psychologist and self-help author) presented before the first chapter gives the gist: “Don’t die with the music still inside you. Listen to your intuitive inner voice and find what passion stirs your soul.”

The protagonists are a couple whose marriage has hit the skids; whether or not it will crash is a question answered at the end of the novel. Michael is a high-flying lawyer in New York, with all the attendant affluence and stress. “On top of that,” the narrator tells us, “Michael was married to a beautiful journalist, ran in marathons, owned a brownstone in Georgetown, and had two healthy daughters; yet he was miserable.” Moreover, he has a problem managing his anger.

Jamie, his wife, dropped her journalistic career to raise her children. Once physically active and outgoing, she is now pre-occupied with her body-weight and dieting. Her self-esteem is shaky.

Jamie has fallen out of love with Michael and contemplates ending the marriage. Michael still loves her but tends to behave in ways that don’t encourage reciprocation—bursts of anger, for instance. As he asks himself, is love enough?

The narration takes us through all the mundane aspects of modern suburban family-life as they grapple with their misery. Food and eating are prominent, along with bodily health, money, dealing with traffic problems, transporting children to various regular out-of-school activities, addiction to television. But behind and beneath these are the issues that the two characters need to face.

Michael’s story gets rather more emphasis than Jamie’s in the novel. The title of the book alludes to his encounter with an older man called Rufus, who acts out the “wise old man” archetype as Michael negotiates his mid-life crisis. They meet in a park near the beginning of the story and this is the start of Michael’s exploration of his unhappiness and other options for his life.

The situations and frustrations of the characters rang true for me. Essentially they are on a quest for personal authenticity—one of the most critical themes of the twenty first century. The author uses unpretentious but clear prose in her skilful narration from their respective points of view, encouraging strong empathy in the reader. It’s a compelling and relevant read which I heartily recommend.

For purchase go to Peggy Strack’s blog at  http://pstrack.blogspot.com.au/

Dark Stories but Brilliant Writing

The Midnight Promise, by Zane Lovitt

The protagonist of this book, John Dorn, began his business calling himself a “private inquiry agent” rather than private investigator.  After leaving the police force, you see, he still had some ideals and wanted to distinguish himself from the corrupt and ruthless types he knew in the profession.  The book comprises ten stories, each dealing with a different case, and each case is a step deeper for Dorn into the psychological morass which bottomed only when he made a promise to himself.

It was a long time after he had obtained his licence, Dorn tells us in his prologue: “After I started the drinking and after I was kicked out of my home and after my head got stuck all the way up my arse.  I made my promise in a border town in the middle of nowhere, at what was literally my darkest hour. There was even a clock tower chiming midnight, right at the moment I said the words, if you believe it.”

The promise occurs at the very end of the last story.  Until then we are absorbed in a world where Dorn deals with drug addicts, psychopaths, suicidal teenagers, inter-ethnic violence, feuding porn-store operators and coppers who are burnt-out or corrupt.  He is sometimes willing to take on a case unpaid because he feels sorry for the client.  At other times he isn’t above telling someone he distrusts to “**** off” when they beg his services but plead poverty.  And all the time his own financial status grows more and more dire.

Zane Lovitt lives in Melbourne, Australia.  While several of the stories have been published elsewhere, this is his first book—and what a book it is!

As the narrator John Dorn is both intelligent and reflective, casting a severe light on himself as much as on other people in his dark and gritty world.  While the language can get into the gutter with the characters it can also be original, incisive and vivid.  This is literary detective fiction at its best.

It’s not a “who-dunnit”: the focus is much more on the people than on the crimes in which they are tangled.  Most of them are unlikeable at best.  One exception is Demetri, the lawyer, who is a faithful friend despite all Dorn’s self-absorption, selfishness and cruel ingratitude.  And there is a kernel of decent humanity in the detective himself that eventually manages to realise some of its potential, as the prologue suggests:

“I used to lug my stories around with me like caged birds, screeching and crapping and demanding all my attention.  I dwelt on my stories, which means I dwelt on myself. And sure, everybody does that, but I was the Super Heavyweight Champion.  I was the CEO…And that’s what this is.  This is the tumbling road to a single moment that changed all that.”

The stories are gripping and insightful, even at their ugliest.  I could not stop reading them and I’m glad of the experience.  And I’m glad to know from the prologue that John Dorn came through and healed because of his promise that midnight.

“The promise I made was that I’d never let it become about me.  Or at least, never again.”

The book was published in print by Text Publishing in 2012 and is also available in digital form.  May it be only the first of many by this excellent author.