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The Falconer - The Journal of the British Falconers' Club

Any man who states his preferences as: falconry, fly fishing and single malt whisky is a man worthy of serious consideration. David Moran was a research biologist and an academic professor at the University of Colorado and is currently the Director-at-Large of the North American Falconers' Association. This new tome is not one of those wordy manuals that tells you, in six inky-pictures, how to tie a falconers' knot or how to make ye dogge love ye hawkee, but a rip roaring account of one man's hawking experiences, warts and all (he is forever fearful of Murphy's law which frequently dogs him) in the wide open spaces of America. His tale is conveyed in racy, fluorescent prose - some of which is slightly puzzling to British ears, but the reader is immediately aware that the author is a born raconteur. He has an easy-flowing style which is a mixture of J.D. Salinger and Damon Runyon with a dash of Davy Crockett thrown in for good measure. It is some of the most lively penmanship to come from the States: frank, fresh; never mawkish, but laced with an ample sardonic, waggish wit as one might expect from a professor.

The chapter entitled The Coming of Age of a Boy and a Redtailed Hawk is deeply moving, and almost a reiteration of J.R. Ackerley's classic essay Rabbeting

The author is keen to inform the reader which brands of vehicle he and his friends drive; furthermore they don't start them, as we humble mortals do, but 'fire up' the motors in their red, FWD Chevy Blazers or whatever, as if they have had to place a glowing Bunsen burner under the bonnet to get them going. Hawking vehicles obviously have some status in the USA. When on foot, he makes his intrepid way through Levi-shredding cat claws blowing on his Acme Thunderer whistle to recall his falcon. It is all a rattling good Boys Own Paper stuff and immensely entertaining the Indians never catch him.

The illustrations are superb; David Reid Henry at his best, several George Lodge sketches along with some full page colour photographs, including a superb one of a white phased gyrfalcon feeding young at the nest. The layout and printing are of an exceptionally high standard. It is expensive, but then so is a BMW - both are top of the range products and good value.

In a letter accompanying this publication the author said, "One hundred years from now the notion of driving a large conveyance that burns hydrocarbonic residue of dinosaurs to transport a group of oddly-dressed men to the field, that then proceed to stomp about, kicking buses, yelling at dogs all the while carrying modified feathered reptiles on their fists may seem quite interesting."

The most rewarding read since Stephen Bodio's A Rage for Falcons - it will stand high on my bookshelf. One man's joyous celebration of a life lived to the full, a jamboree which all began when, as a fourteen year old, he met Captain Charles Knight and his eagle Ramshaw.