Environmental Poetry:
consciousness, ecological accountability and responsibility, and the reunification of humanity to their environment
Don McKay has been described as a nature poet, an environmental poet, and an ecologically centred poet (“Field Marks” ix). He is a passionate birdwatcher which undeniably and fundamentally shapes his poetry: “birding transforms into mental migration, an elaborate metaphor for the poetic process” (xi). Like many other nature poets, McKay strives to align himself with nature and the environment: “linked by their search for responsible ways of being in the world” (Bringhurst 881). This essay will take McKay’s poem “Identification,” regarding the rare sighting of a Peregrine Falcon and assess some of the most fundamental characteristics of McKay’s nature poetry: metaphor, naming, extensive usage of literary devices, and language.
One of McKay’s most vital attributes to his poetry is the use of metaphor. In “Identification,” for example, McKay writes, “jesus falcon.” But McKay offers little clue as to what this metaphor ultimately symbolizes. "The Windhover" is a famous poem by another bird watcher, Gerard Manley Hopkins, published in 1918, also about the falcon. George Montag writes that,
“The Windhover,” I think, is not only a poem which employs the falcon as a symbol for Christ, but one which depicts the specific event of the Crucifixion, explicitly portrays the death of Christ, and then expounds the effect of this act concerning the redemption of man. (109)
If McKay is referring to this famous poem when writing “Identification,” it would not be too far to imagine that “the redemption of man” would be necessary, considering it was man’s own handiwork (or lack thereof) that prompted the Peregrine Falcon to become an endangered species in the first place (“Peregrine Falcon”). So there is the falcon, a potential symbol for Christ and his Crucifixion, and the observer of the falcon, a symbol for the necessary redemption of mankind, as proven by the portending vanishing of the falcon. McKay alludes to this theme of crucifixion more than once with “stooped and vanished,” (resurrection), “to bang this loneliness,” (crucifixion), “fix me to my feet,” (nailed to the cross), and “become a catacomb,” (the tomb), all conjuring up images of Christ, with the “jesus falcon” as the resurrection. Yet even this may all just be conjecture, for Méira Cook writes this of McKay and his love of metaphors: “Neither ornamental nor entirely rational, McKay’s metaphors breach decorum, logic, convention, and expectation. Startling, jubilant, joyful, these metaphors stand in the place of failure” (xiv). Indeterminant meaning or not, one can see in the analysis of just two short words in a twenty-four-line poem the vastness that can be relayed to the reader by using startling metaphor. Two words – “jesus falcon” – replace essays of information in relaying key issues that McKay is attempting to offer his readers.
“Naming” is another integral feature of McKay’s poetry. For example, by writing “Peregrine” in italics, the birdwatcher “names” the bird, both literally and figuratively. Figuratively, in that the use of italics conjures a title. Literally, in that it is very specific – this is not just a falcon, it is a “Peregrine” Falcon. Bringhurst writes that McKay’s poetry is:
[P]recise, allusive, particular, accurate. . . McKay breaks with the tradition of rapturous, non-specific, pantheistic nature poetry inaugurated — perfected— by Wordsworth. Where Wordsworth might recollect in tranquility images of “tree” or “bird,” McKay painstakingly describes “white pine, red pine, loon, or Blackburnian warbler.” (as quoted in “Field Marks” xx)
By naming the falcon, McKay pushes the reader to explore exactly what it means to differentiate between watching a bird and watching a Peregrine Falcon. Stan Dragland writes that by identifying the species, McKay ultimately identifies himself, “clarifying what he is: a member of a predatory species, grounded (fixed and locked in himself) and longing for flight” (885). This self-identification turns everything around on itself: The Peregrine is no longer the predator, but the watcher is the predator: it is the human that has destroyed the Peregrine; it is the human that is the “dangerous” one.
Furthermore, by naming the bird, the reader is forced to understand the bird, to know the bird, and this requires, maybe even demands, knowledge of the bird. It pushes the reader to search outside of the poem for information, details, and knowledge about the subject McKay is writing about. McKay does not make it easy for the reader; he does not dole out the information necessary for readers to get a clear understanding of his work. For example, the reader has to research to discover that the Peregrine Falcon was endangered in 1978 (“Peregrine Falcon”); “Identification” was published only a few years later (Birding, or desire). And even just understanding what a “Peregrine” is; researching this fantastic bird can drop you into an online wormhole for hours, if not days. The Peregrine Falcon is the fastest bird on the planet, reaching over 300 km/hour speed when swooping down to catch its prey (“Peregrine Falcon”). Finally, this process of “naming” the Peregrine is an evolution. Before the birdwatcher writes “Peregrine,” the falcon is an “it;” after the “naming,” the falcon is now a “you” (Dragland 886). The birdwatcher is now in relationship with the falcon; by naming it, identifying it, he is no longer separate from it; he is no longer the “other.”
McKay employs extensive usage of literary devices in his poetry. In “Identification,” alliteration creates a mood of melancholy and regret with “far too fast,” “slow sad pocket,” and “fix me to my feet” (Field Marks 19). Anaphora creates a feeling of frustration, of trying to figure something out: “I write it down because,” “I write it down because” – and then “because” again, four more times. This repetition stresses the importance of “naming,” the importance of language, of why it is imperative that the birdwatcher put their pen to paper. Assonance brings the reader’s attention to significant phrases, like “dangerous endangered species” and “such clarity is rare.” It brings attention to the irony: how can such a dangerous bird have become so endangered by the very people that find it dangerous? Repetition is used with “row row row,” creating an urgency, conjuring the actual rowing of a boat, bringing attention to the excitement of the moment, the awe. Bondar writes: “‘Row row row’ reflects both the bird's fast-moving pace and the watcher's own intentions to move quickly although he cannot.” The whole first stanza is clipped, fragmented, and enjambment pushes each sentence into the next: as the falcon is rapidly flying through the sky, so is the birdwatcher frantically trying to find their binoculars.
Nearly every line employs enjambment except for before and after the writing of “Peregrine,” reiterating the significance of this one written word. Dragland writes that this enjambment “folds complete sentences into it, some of them torquing unexpectedly out of others, and the poem is paced to the kinetics of a reacting mind” (887). The white space after each “because,” often positioned as the final word of their line, forces the reader to pause themselves, to think, to ponder, to consider what the birdwatcher is trying to articulate. The only period and full end-stop occurs on the final line of the poem, portending the final vanishing of the falcon, both in the moment and with the knowledge that, as an endangered species, the vanishing could be forever. This may be the last Peregrine Falcon this birdwatcher will ever see.
Language is a vital component of McKay’s poetry. In the end, the birdwatcher never does get to the binoculars and all that is written down is “Peregrine,” nothing more. There is no language appropriate or salient enough to describe what the birdwatcher is seeing; the limits of language, of “naming,” are brought to the forefront; the spaces out beyond words which McKay would call “wilderness” (Dragland 882). All that is left is a “slow sad pocket of awe” and a voice that “would yodel into stratospheric octaves.” Ultimately attempting to reach out to the falcon in the language of song that maybe, just maybe, the falcon will recognize and hear, way out in the stratosphere where the falcon’s wings now soar. Bondar writes that there “is no language which effectively bridges the gap between natural and human worlds, just as words inadequately reflect inspiration,” and therefore, “the poet-speaker will invoke this great bird, "jesus falcon," orally, through a language both he and the bird understand:” music. The birdwatcher, in the end, is just as “inarticulate” as the falcon; language has not brought him any closer to “naming” this bird; all he can do is relish in the moment of such rare “clarity.”
The themes of McKay’s poetry, such as consciousness, ecological accountability and responsibility, and the reunification of humanity to their environment, are all highlighted and underscored by McKay’s expert use of literary devices, especially his use of metaphor. Themes of naming and language are also critical elements of his poetry which no longer allow for the “other” and instead work to heal the fragmented connections between nature and people. Nature poets like McKay are working to heal humanity’s relationship with both nature and the planet, one thoughtful word at a time.
Works Cited
Bondar, Alana. “Desire: The Metapoetics of Don McKay’s BIRDING, or desire.” Studies in Canadian Literature, vol. 19, no. 2, Jun. 1994, journals.lib.unb.ca/index.php/SCL/article/view/8201.
Dragland, Stan, editor. “Be-Wildering: The Poetry of Don McKay.” University of Toronto Quarterly, vol. 70, Fall 2001, pp. 881–888. EBSCOhost, search.ebscohost.com/login.aspx?direct=true&db=cjh&AN=5846910&site=eds-live.
McKay, Don. Birding, or Desire: Poems. Toronto, McClelland and Stewart, 1983.
---. Field Marks: The Poetry of Don Mckay, edited by Méira Cook, Wilfrid Laurier University Press, 2006, ProQuest Ebook Central, ebookcentral.proquest.com/lib/athabasca-ebooks/detail.action?docID=3050187
Montag, George E. “‘The Windhover’: Crucifixion and Redemption.” Victorian Poetry, vol. 3, no. 2, 1965, pp. 109–118. JSTOR, www.jstor.org/stable/40001315. Accessed 17 Apr. 2021.
“Peregrine Falcon.” Nature Conservancy Canada. www.natureconservancy.ca/en/what-we-do/resource-centre/featured-species/birds/peregrine-falcon.html. Accessed 19 Apr. 2021.