'Lift' - why you need to read this book

Whenever Boyfriend and I throw parties, we always have an odd mix of guests from the various worlds we inhabit: There are reporters and editors, foodies, academics, political people and hunters.

I tend to introduce folks to one another by identifying which group (or groups) they come from, and I can tell you no guest turns more heads than Rebecca O'Connor. "She hunts ducks with falcons," I tell people. Once I've said that, it doesn't matter which group they belong to; they all want to hear what Rebecca has to say.

And who wouldn't be fascinated by a woman who can somehow bend a raptor's will, persuading the epitome of free spirit to become a willing hunting partner?

In the abstract, it sounds incredibly romantic. But Rebecca's new memoir, Lift roots falconry in vivid reality.

I am, of course, a sucker for honesty, and Rebecca hooked me with the opening lines:

I should kill the duck. I know how to do it. A master falconer showed me with a deft hand. He split the skin where the leg meets the body and with his finger hooked, jammed it inside and found the heart. It dislodged with no sound and laid beating in his palm He offered it with an open hand to my falcon who took it with dainty bites while the duck stilled.

Wow. Hardcore.

But that's the world we inhabit, isn't it? Whether we kill animals with the aid of falcons or guns, or simply delegate our killing to some third party, as most of the meat-eaters in this nation do, this is the reality of our position in the food chain. Death is never pretty.

(There is, by the way, a legitimate reason for this gruesome method some falconers use to finish off the bird. If you'd like to read the rest of the prologue and get a taste for Rebecca's writing, click here and scroll down to the prologue link. Be patient - it takes a while to load, even with a high-speed connection.)

This brand of honesty fills the pages of "Lift," where Rebecca's story of a childhood marred by abandonment - and punctuated by a yearning for approval - is intertwined with the saga of training and hunting with Anakin, her first peregrine falcon. On her own terms, no one else's.

"Lift" doesn't necessarily make me want to take up falconry. A gun is way more effective at filling the freezer, and my gun isn't prone to flying away and forcing me to track it down. (I texted Rebecca while I was in the middle of the book and she asked, "How many times has Anakin flown away so far?")

But that's not the point. This book gave me riveting insight into a tiny but fascinating subset of hunting culture, and it makes me more determined to join Rebecca on a hunt this season so I can personally witness the ancient dance between falcon and falconer.

For any hunter who's interested in looking beyond the confines of his or her world, reading this book is a no-brainer. Buy it. You won't regret it.

© Holly A. Heyser 2009