You need not be a bird lover or watcher to enjoy this book, but there’s a good chance you will love both birds and life more by its end.
Broken Wing, which appeals to both young and adult readers, is set in his remote Vermont woodlands where our main figure, The Man Who Lives Alone in the Mountains, has settled into a hermitage of sorts after a life of playing jazz in the city. The third person narration is thinly disguised as the man himself, and we hear his voice most clearly when he writes to his longtime friend, Howard, reflecting on his own character: “What I’m talking about is why I’m so attached to Broken Wing, my rusty blackbird friend. As my bird book says: a secretive and solitary bird—they seldom occur in very large flocks, and do not, as a rule, associate with red-winged blackbirds or grackles. We are two of a kind, he and I. Both of us cast adrift on this white and foreign sea. . . . He and I are loners, and yet we’re both also more than that.”
With Thoreau-like precision David Budbill captures the details of the natural world: “And when the morning came, the cold and gray, the dank and chill of November had begun. Rapidly now, the last bit of color, the remaining pale yellows, drained away from the hillsides. Now the skeleton of the world revealed itself; the sere gray and brown of naked hardwood trees stretched their skinny fingers against the sky.” Though Budbill closes off this tale of devotion and will with a labyrinthine suggestion worthy of Jorge Luis Borges, we know that only a poet could write with such lyric precision. The simple, primitive illustrations of Vermont artist Donald Saaf provide charm and fitting character to the work.
The final chapter in Budbill’s own voice reflect on life and death and grief and survival echoing our own sense of our authors last words. “What if there is something—a land, say, a place beyond the conundrum, the mystery, to which we can go only when we accept the mystery and its confusions for what they are, and do not try to solve them: Perhaps, in that acceptance, we can gain a passport, so to speak, to that place beyond, that place The Man’s friend William calls the Tone World…which, I believe, is where all stories come from.”
This is a fine capping work to a lifetime of writing that asked the brave questions and accepted life’s deep mystery.