I've Heard the Vultures Singing: Field Notes on Poetry, Illness, and Nature

by Lucia Perillo

Book Overview

During her days as a park ranger, Lucia Perillo loved nothing more than to brave the Cascade Mountains alone, taking special pride in her daring solo skis down the raw, unpatrolled slopes of Mount Rainier. Then, in her thirties, she was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis. In I've Heard the Vultures Singing, Perillo confronts, in stark but funny terms, the ironies of being someone with her history and gusto for life being suddenly unable to walk. ("Ground-truthing"...

• Format: Hardcover
• Language: English
• ISBN: 1595340319
• ISBN13: 9781595340313
• Release Date: May 2007
• Publisher: Trinity University Press
• Length: 212 Pages
• Weight: 0.75 lbs.
• Dimensions: 0.8" x 5.5" x 8.3"

Customer Reviews

One of the best books I have read in years.

I generally do not prefer non-fiction, especially that of the biographical or auto-biographical sort. But this is one of the best books I have read in years. It was so good that I began to mark it up (gently and in pencil), something I would under normal circumstances loathe to see done to any book. To say that this book is honest makes understatement of that word. This book is raw and full of an awe-full beauty. It finds laughter in pain, and pain in laughter. There are things shared here that made me feel closer to this author than I have heretofore felt to many a friend. Buy this book, curl up, and prepare to meet an extraordinary woman you will not forget.

A thoughtful, reflective, autobiographical narrative about adapting to severe change, highly recomme

Former park ranger and award-winning poet Lucia Perillo presents I've Heard the Vultures Singing: Field Notes on Poetry, Illness, and Nature, a memoir of the ups and downs in her life. When Lucia was in her thirties, she was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis; I've Heard the Vultures Singing recounts the difficulty of coming to terms with losing the ability to walk. She had to give up some of her favorite outdoor activities, such as hiking and skiing, and learn to enjoy the wilderness with lowered expectations, as well as how to apply her poetry to access and experience the wilderness. A thoughtful, reflective, autobiographical narrative about adapting to severe change, highly recommended.

A book worth your attention

It used to be one could recommend only three books that dealt with the complexities of multiple sclerosis in a manner both truthful and stylish: Diary of a Disappointed Man by W.N.P. Barbellion, Baroque 'n' Roll by Brigid Brophy and Lost Property by Ben Sonnenberg. Now I've Heard the Vultures Singing must be added to the list. Like Barbellion, Lucia Perillo is a gifted naturalist; like Brophy, a wit; like Sonnenberg, an ironist. More important, Ms Perillo is an accomplished poet. She commands a variety of voices: slangy, sexy, sublime. All of them are on show in this book of prose which is, in equal measure, hilarious and poignant.

Buy now while still in first edition

I read everything Lucia writes and am never dissapointed. Both her poetry and prose flow beautifully on the page like a spring stream. Her deep insights on life form a back-eddy that will keep your brain swirling in thought for days after. Because of common interests and experiences: Buddhism, birds, east-coast Italian childhood, former park ranger, western-Washington state resident, etc., I delight in reading her take in these similar areas. Perillo always has unique and facinating insights that make me want to slap my forehead and go, "why didn't I think of that." This book like her others is both tragic and funny. Maybe a little more sad because of the progression of the disease. Her husband Jim, who is mentioned several times in the book is a comic inspiration; not only because of his dedication, but his comic wit removes the chance of too much sentimentality. I would recommend this book to anyone who appreciates good, thought-evoking prose and especially if you have a medical condition where your body is changing and moving toward its final end - well, I guess that's all of us.