Mute Objects of Expression (4 page)

All of this is too crude. The bird's state of mind must be quite different. Put yourself in the place of this stump-armed gimp with
pockmarked, fettered legs, obliged to hop along in order to walk, or to haul about an enormous belly. Fortunately, a very mobile neck, as much for guiding the beak toward the snapping up of prey as for cocking the ear to warnings of impending danger, since in any event he can find refuge only in flight – beady-eyed, alert for both prey and predator, forever on the lookout – heart and wings aflutter.

The graceful sweep of arcs inscribed in flight, the sweetness of mien, the little cries or flourishes, generally assure that birds are held in good esteem.

Yet for the most part they are filthy, lousy little darlings with dirty ruffs, slashed sleeves, gold braid tattered and torn, with little collars and dusty aiguillettes, and – what's more – they crap in flight, crap as they walk, crap all over the place. Very “Grand Siècle.”

How does the bird figure in the life of a man? As a surprise in his field of vision. Meaty streaks of lightning, more or less rapid. Zigzags in the third dimension. In Paris two sorts: sparrows and pigeons. All the rest, caged: particularly the little yellow birds: parakeets or canaries.

The perfect bird would fly about with such grace . . . it would descend to bring us a bit of heaven, through the agency of the Holy Ghost, of course, in arcs graceful as certain paraphs, the signature of God, good and pleased with his works and his creatures. Ask
Claudel about the significance of the dove of the Holy Ghost. Are there other birds in the Christian religion, in religions generally? I note the vultures of Prometheus trying to catch my attention, Leda's swan . . . So there already, several prepared to bestir themselves and come alive again, beyond the compilation. Thank you kindly, I have more than enough already!

All in all, what I'm describing is particularly the sparrow, the partridge, the swallow, the pigeon. (The perfect bird: I believe I'm referring to the pigeon, come to think of it, or the dove. For one thing the Holy Ghost surely
was
a dove, if I'm not abused. (
Buse.
Buzzard.))

I thought myself able to write a thousand pages on any object at all, but here I am breathless at less than five, and turning towards compilation! No, I feel that on my own (and from the bird) I can naively draw out more than that. But basically isn't the important point to grasp the crux of the thing? By the time I have written several pages, upon rereading them I'll see the place where that crux resides, the essential, the qualities of the bird. I really believe I've already found it. Two things: the little bundle of feathers, and the startling, capricious take-off into flight (the surprising take-off into flight). Besides that, the little head as well, the skull easily ground up, the matchstick legs, the opening-moving gadget, the bizarre
quality of the arcs in flight. What else? Well now, this won't be easy after all. I might tumble back into the same mistakes I made with the shrimp. So in that case it might be better to stop here with these notes, which disgust me less than a bungled
opus.

I've also had the idea several times over – I must make note of it – have the bird speak, describe it in the first person. I'll have to give this way a go, try my hand at this procedure.

What does the
Littré
have to say about birds? Once again, here's compilation plaguing me. Who cares. Let's take a look. Give it a try. I rouse myself from my armchair:

OISEAU (impossible to copy it all down, there are three columns, the whole of page 813 in the I-P volume and several more lines on page 814. I'm copying only the chapter headings): “1. An oviparous animal with two feet, having feathers and wings. 2. Zoological term: a class of the animal kingdom comprising the vertebrate animals whose body is covered with feathers, and whose anterior limbs generally take the form of wings, the head terminated at the front by a horny beak which covers elongated toothless jaws. 3. The king of the birds, the eagle. Jupiter's bird, the eagle. Juno's bird, the peacock. Minerva's bird, the owl. Venus' bird, the dove, the pigeon. 4. Terms of falconry. Absolutely,
the bird:
the bird of prey trained to the hunt. (And all the terms of falconry.) 5. Hummingbird.
6. Mockingbird. 7. Africa's bird, the guinea hen. Golden oriole, etc. 10. Saint Luke's bird, the steer. 11. Bird sometimes known as the common bird-eater (shell). 12. A term of heraldry. 13. A chemical term. 14. Bird's-eye view. 15. As the crow flies. 16. Colloquialisms: for the birds, ETYMOLOGY: Ital.:
uccello, augello.
Low Latin:
aucellus
(in Salic law): from a non-Latin diminutive,
avicellus,
from
avis,
bird.

“There's another word OISEAU,
n.m.
Mason's term. Sort of small trough placed on the shoulder to carry mortar. To carry the
oiseau,
to be a masonry worker. ETYMOLOGY: So called by comparison with a bird, or perhaps corruption of
augeau,
derived from
auge,
trough.”

In the
Littré,
cited in the chapter on birds, the most beautiful expressions, which I want to retain, are the following: “
All
birds of prey are remarkable for a singularity whose reason is difficult to supply: it is that the males are about a third smaller and weaker than the females.” (Buffon,
Oiseaux,
1, p. 89.) “The tragic actor Esopus asked to be served with a platter containing all the species of bird that sang or imitated the human voice, birds which cost him ten thousand sesterces apiece: thus the platter has been estimated a hundred thousand sesterces (22, 500 francs) (Pastoret).” Under the terms of falconry: “Branch bird, which lacks the strength to move further than from branch to branch. Ignoble birds, birds of low flight. Noble birds: high-flying birds. Unfledged birds: birds removed from the nest that have not yet flown.” Etc. Concerning
the hummingbird: “Lightness, rapidity, speed, grace and vivid adornment, all belong to this little favorite.” Buffon, (
Oiseaux,
XI, p.2.) “Golden oriole, European oriole.
Camel-bird,
ostrich.
Father-bird,
in Cayenne, the bald jackdaw.” Historical: “
De put oef put oisel.
” (From little egg, little bird.) (Leroux de Linay,
Proverbes,
1, p. 188.)

And there we have it. Good things are there for the taking, for learning. Yet satisfaction of noting that there's nothing there of what I want to say and which takes in the whole bird (this sack of feathers that takes flight astonishingly). So I won't be getting there too late. Everything remains to be said. One might have guessed.

I must also copy a rather recent little piece that I very pretentiously entitled
The Bird
after I'd written it. Here it is: “The bird . . . creaks and squeaks, twirls and trills, like those wooden spigots that you tap into barrel staves. (Staves?) It cheeps and chirps. Seeds and pips are found there. From seed to distilling grain, there isn't far to go. What's the purpose of this little alembic? What does it distill? These lifelong vocalizations, the high Kirsch-song of sparrows. Then at the time of death, those sparse drops of dark blood on the game hunter's counter. (Hunting game?)”

Where do birds appear? In a non-citified landscape, against a dark sepia grounding of tillage, where the air is stitched with numerous green filaments up to a certain height.

Rereading what I've written thus far, I find several words to look up in the
Littré:

BRÉCHET. Breastbone: the name given to the protruding longitudinal ridge found on the external face of the bird's sternum.

(
Sternum:
odd number of bones situated for man in front of and along the midline of the thorax. Analogous part in animals. The form of the sternum of birds, like the keel of a ship, which is indispensable for their balance in flight, could make a crouched position very painful for them. Dupont de Nemours.)

BOMBER. To bulge: 1.
v.t.
To make convex, like a bomb, that is to say in such a way as to display a more or less spheric segment. 2.
v.i. bomber:
to be convex. This wall bulges.

Rebomber
or
rebombir,
(to rebomb) do not exist, but
rebondir
(to bounce),
rebondi,
to round (rounded with weight).

DOUVES: the planks placed in a circle which make up the body of a keg and which are held together by circular bands.

ORBES. Spheres, orbs, incorrectly used by me.
Orbite,
orbit, would be better – which is to orbs what circumference is to a circle.
Courbes,
curves, would be better for what I want to describe (or parameters).

A propos of nothing at all, even with an object familiar to man for millennia, many things remain to be said. And there
is much to be gained
by their being said. Not only for the progress of science but
for the (moral) progress of man through science. There's another point: for man to really take possession of nature, for him to direct it, dominate it, he must accumulate within himself the
qualities
of each thing (nothing better to that end than to set them apart through words, to nominate them).