K, like, I've taken my time with writing this review because this book was TOO MUCH, MAN. Since reading it, I can't shut up about pigeons; when I walk by a cluster of them bobbing their little heads as they peck at gutter garbage I pause and give them a tiny, adoring smile. LIKE WHO AM I, EVEN?
My friend, Jill, found this book at what turned out to be the best used book/CD store in Toronto. Just that morning I had been talking about how weird slash cute pigeons look when they bob their little heads (...imagine if humans walked like that, etc.). Finding the book was obviously a sign that it needed to be purchased and read immediately.
Like Robert Sullivan's beautiful (and strangely moving) book, Rats: Observations on the History & Habitat of the City's Most Unwanted Inhabitants, Andrew Blechman's Pigeons was completely engrossing, fascinating, and the story of its subjects often made me stupid-emotional.
PIGEONS ARE SO NOBLE. Like, you don't even know. Pigeons populate every continent on Earth (with the exception of Antarctica). They are not migratory birds; they just fucking figure shit out and learn to survive and adapt to wherever it is they decide to settle (inspiring, ah). Some pigeons were little war heroes—saving the lives of hundreds of men in both World Wars I and II when they carried secret messages across enemy lines (some of them were awarded medals of valor—I can't even). Some even went on reconnaissance missions with tiny cameras strapped to their bodies (What. WHAT). And don't even get me started on how cool a pigeon's ability to "home" is OR the fact that they mate for life OR the fact that male and female pigeons share child (squab)-rearing duties equally. Can we, perhaps, learn something from this bird?
Blechman's book is well-researched (the chapter on Mike Tyson kind of went nowhere, but I get why he would have wanted to include it—all that leg-work and wasted time!). Blechman meets pigeon racers (including the man who races pigeons for the Queen), pigeon hunters (ew), pigeon breeders (look up the Frillback, it's worth it), and pigeon advocates. It seems that everyone involved with pigeons, in whatever capacity, is SUPER INVOLVED. Like, really into it. And, as you read this book, it kind of starts to make sense.
And, to dispel a myth—pigeons are no more disease-ridden than any other animal. In fact, they are not really carriers of avian flu because their internal body temperature is too high for the virus to thrive. That's not to say that you should, like, touch pigeon poo (don't do that), but like maybe the next time you see a pigeon pecking at a bread crust in the park, don't look at the little guy with, like, abject disgust?