Mind of the Raven by Bernd Heinrich

I finally finished Bernd Heinrich's New York Times Book Review Notable Book of the Year in 1999 Mind of the Raven: Investigations and Adventures with Wolf-Birds (click here to read all my entries about this book) and wanted to share this humorous Eskimo tale that Heinrich used to end Chapter Twenty-One "Tulugaq":

The practice of following ravens must once have been common, because it has inspired humorous Eskimo tales. I presume any truly humorous tale must have a highly serious antithesis. In "The Raven and the Hunter" tale, a raven tells a hunter who wants to settle near some seal breathing holes he has found precisely where to camp. The hunter foolishly heeds the raven and camps where directed. There in the night he is killed by a boulder falling from the mountain above. The raven then flies down and pecks out the hunter's eyes, saying, "I don't know why all these hunters believe my silly stories."

Just one example of how Heinrich uses personal stories and mythology, not just science and research, to teach readers about ravens in this captivating book.

Mind of the Raven by Bernd Heinrich

I am finally about done with Bernd Heinrich’s Mind of the Raven: Investigations and Adventures with Wolf-Birds — click here to read all my entries about this book.

It's really been a intriguing and educational read -- I've just taken so long to get through it because I haven't had as much time to read these past few weeks.

Henrich is really an inquisitive, dedicated and natural researcher.

His professional research and personal experiments with ravens written with the full joy and wonder of a truly passionate scientist and intertwined with drawings he's made of ravens is just remarkable.

I don't even like birds and I've never seen a raven but I've enjoyed this book.

Hope to finally find the time to finish it this week!

Mind of the Raven: Investigations and Adventures with Wolf-Birds by Bernd Heinrich

I've been enjoying Bernd Heinrich's New York Times Book Review Notable Book of the Year in 1999 Mind of the Raven: Investigations and Adventures with Wolf-Birds (click here to read all my entries about this book).

Yes I'm still getting through it. It's really quite good; easy to read, full of interesting facts and thoughtful writing. It's just that my reading pace has slowed down now that it's summer time.

By the way, did you know that the author Bernd Heinrich is a record-setting ultramarathoner?

Quoting wikipedia:

In 1981, he set an absolute American Record (i.e., the best of either road or track venues; this one was a road race in Chicago) of 6:38:20 for 100km (62.137 miles). Two years later, he set an absolute American Record for the 24 Hour Run of 156 miles, 1388 yards in a track race in Maine. In 1984, he set an absolute American 100 mile record of 12:27:01, again in a track race. One year later, he set the American track record of 7:00:12 for 100km. In so doing, he became the only American man to hold both the road and track versions of the American Record for the same event. His 12:27:01 for 100 miles and 7:00:12 for 100km still remained, at the end of 2007, the official American Track records. At the end of 2007, Heinrich was inducted into the American Ultrarunning Association's Hall of Fame.

Will write more when I finish this book.

The Raven by Edgar Allen Poe

Since I have been I've been learning about ravens in Bernd Heinrich's Mind of the Raven: Investigations and Adventures with Wolf-Birds -- click here to read all my entries about this book -- I re-read Edgar Allen Poe's The Raven (first published on January 29, 1845, in the New York Evening Mirror ) and I thought I'd share with you:

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
`'Tis some visitor,' I muttered, `tapping at my chamber door -
Only this, and nothing more.'

Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow; - vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow - sorrow for the lost Lenore -
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels named Lenore -
Nameless here for evermore.

And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me - filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating
`'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door -
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door; -
This it is, and nothing more,'

Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
`Sir,' said I, `or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you' - here I opened wide the door; -
Darkness there, and nothing more.

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before
But the silence was unbroken, and the darkness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, `Lenore!'
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, `Lenore!'
Merely this and nothing more.

Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
`Surely,' said I, `surely that is something at my window lattice;
Let me see then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore -
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore; -
'Tis the wind and nothing more!'

Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore.
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door -
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door -
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
`Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,' I said, `art sure no craven.
Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the nightly shore -
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning - little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door -
Bird or beast above the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
With such name as `Nevermore.'

But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only,
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing further then he uttered - not a feather then he fluttered -
Till I scarcely more than muttered `Other friends have flown before -
On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before.'
Then the bird said, `Nevermore.'

Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
`Doubtless,' said I, `what it utters is its only stock and store,
Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful disaster
Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore -
Till the dirges of his hope that melancholy burden bore
Of "Never-nevermore."'

But the raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird and bust and door;
Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore -
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore
Meant in croaking `Nevermore.'

This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o'er,
But whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o'er,
She shall press, ah, nevermore!

Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.
`Wretch,' I cried, `thy God hath lent thee - by these angels he has sent thee
Respite - respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore!
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost Lenore!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

`Prophet!' said I, `thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil! -
Whether tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted -
On this home by horror haunted - tell me truly, I implore -
Is there - is there balm in Gilead? - tell me - tell me, I implore!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

`Prophet!' said I, `thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil!
By that Heaven that bends above us - by that God we both adore -
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels named Lenore -
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden, whom the angels named Lenore?'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

`Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!' I shrieked upstarting -
`Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken! - quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,
And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted - nevermore!

Mind of the Raven by Bernd Heinrich

I've just started reading Mind of the Raven: Investigations and Adventures with Wolf-Birds by Bernd Heinrich. As I mentioned in my entry about borrowing this book, Mind of the Raven was a New York Times Book Review Notable Book of the Year in the year it was published (1999).

I didn't know much about ravens -- really all I knew was Edgar Allen Poe's The Raven -- so I was surprise to read in the Introduction that "ravens have throughout history commonly been singled out to be most like man . . . [and] have been considered highly intelligent, and mythologized as creators, destroyers, prophets, playful crowns, and tricksters."

Here's an unbelievable quote from Mark Pavelka, who studied ravens for the United States Fish and Wildlife Service, in the Introduction:

With other animals you can usually throw out 90 percent of the stories you hear about them as exaggerations. With ravens, it's the opposite. No matter how strange or amazing the story, chances are pretty good that at least some raven somewhere actually did that.

I'm eager to learn more, especially since our local NFL football team is the Baltimore Ravens (after Baltimore-born Edgar Allen Poe's The Raven)!