"'They Are So Lovely, and They Cannot Get Out': A Review of Genevieve Kaplan's '[aviary]'" by Saad Alsoghair

The word “aviary” usually brings to mind the ability to get close to birds, an image of birds in cages, or even the idea of a bird zoo. Some people see an aviary as a nice place to see many different types of birds, as a positive place, especially if it is an aviary where people are able to feed the birds. It’s calming, relaxing, yet exciting to see the birds together, eating and co-habitating. Other people think of an aviary in a negative way, as some people see a zoo as unnatural and restrictive—birds taken from their natural habitat and put in a cage. Sometimes their habitat is recreated; other times, it is just a cage, with multiple birds inside, with people crowding and staring, something more uncomfortable—like an invasion of privacy—being watched at every moment. In her book, Genevieve Kaplan explores this idea of aviary while delving deeply into humanity through the viewpoint of watching birds and the details and magic of the earth. She looks at the relationships between humans and the world around us, the natural environment, the relationships and dynamics of men and women, looking at all of these elements with fresh eyes, allowing us to do the same. Published in 2020 by Veliz Books, [aviary] is a collection of poems inspired by the parks and public gardens of Southern California, as well as Mina Loy’s writing, “Ladies in an Aviary,” which instigated Kaplan’s analysis and comparison of humanity and the world around us.
[aviary] is full of references to birds, cages, and parks, the places where Kaplan got her inspiration. In the poem, “They are so lovely and they cannot get out,” Kaplan analyzes the human world and the earth, “a world where women watch women, there are cages.” In particular, she refers to birds, and perhaps flowers, in a park, which may act as an aviary, and women in their home and garden. She references “the moon, twice as big… a world where women watch women, there are cages, creatures,” as she is leaving the park, locking everything inside from the outside world, from where she watches. She recognizes the next day outside her home, “the radishes twice their size,” as the moon was outside the park. Just as she was outside the park, which became “caged” in, while in the second half of the poem she was watching another version of nature next to humanity, with her garden right up against her house, wondering how far she needs to go to watch herself from the outside. In this book, there is a lot of watching.
In “Part of this season,” about a fall day, the author is observing the birds in their habitat, in the city, unsure about hearing their sounds and what is going on around her. It is a reflection of how the natural environment and the human-made environment intertwine. She hears the birds, “the metallic taps of their beaks the clink a food makes along the edge, around the edge of the ring. it’s too still,” in the silence of evening, as a sun sets and shines on a sliver of ground, showing the dry leaves on a seemingly fall day. She reflects on how birds and humans interact and focus on their surroundings differently. “[T]he birds ignore such goings-on, their interest is in the leaves, the branches, the color of the sky each night,” a line that shows how we see the birds as part of nature, while the author ends up speaking about our environment and refers to more human-made items: “I hope to improve the brick. I hope not to lose sight of the slats I think I’ll be able to hold it again if I look closely.” Another set of lines,“The concrete sky, the cement of the ground it’s all one structure. And it holds together,” depicts the coming together, the combination of natural and man-made elements, intertwined so much that we almost can’t tell the difference, especially in the gray fall days, while the birds, although they tap on the human-made iron fences and use them as natural items, pay less attention to them than they do to nature itself.
Kaplan’s reflections on humanity and nature continue throughout her book. In “The flat look at the naïve,” she ponders on gatherings, particularly in a city. The poem comes full circle, beginning with a discussion on the fence and wires around the area, and ending with the thought that the wires of the fence were “so thin they could be cut…with what we brought.” Humans follow certain paths or trends, often unthinking or doing what is usually expected, like “a single-file walk (I follow behind. I look down.).” The fences that keep people in are also something that could be taken down with ease by the people enclosed. Often we don’t realized certain things we do out of habit, or by not thinking outside the box we exist in: “the dirt for growing, the asphalt for heating up, not so threatening, young man.” Most people try not to be “threatening,” not to stand out so much; they assume the norm—flowers grow in dirt, not asphalt that would just heat up and prevent growth. Maybe most of humanity is naïve as we go along our way in life.
Kaplan’s poem, “(vary),” has an interesting artistic expression in its arrangement. At first glance, it goes in alphabetical order, but some letters are missing. Further, there seems to be a pattern in the number of words per line—one word, two words, three words—but, then, she changes the pattern throughout the poem, ranging from one to three words per line. She also varies how many words begin with each letter, as well as the grouping together of lines. The arrangement of the poem is a play on the title, “(vary),” and she does it well. Additionally, she alternates between adjectives, verbs, nouns, and adverbs, all the while still reflecting on humankind, nature, and birds in this “aviary.”
Animals, including humans, enjoy being in groups and being accepted by them. We also go through daily loops or patterns. The poem, “The pattern of their beating wings,” is a reflection on such actions. She states, “the instinct is to hurry as the light fades, which is the pattern of their beating the pattern (the arc),” as birds tend to return to their home to rest when night falls, just as humans do the same. We go to work, and as night falls, we head to our home to rest and sleep at night. That is a pattern, but so is what we do in the middle of the day. Just as the birds have an arc pattern of the day, and the sound pattern of their beating wings, we have a pattern of the arc of our day—wake up, get ready, go to work or school, talk with the same people, do the same actions, return home. We also tend to group together with people of similar personalities, and those who are considered “odd” or “different” are often left out. In this poem, the bird is watching, but shunned because, “(it leaps but can’t fly) (footsteps and they all flew).” The one that is different, that doesn’t have the same abilities, is left looking on, while others stare or react in a way as to leave that one behind, just as humans often do with other humans.
Kaplan’s poems use their titles as parts of the poems themselves, usually as the first line. Both the poems and titles are interconnected, just as all of the poems are interconnected with each other as pieces of observation and analysis on birds, humanity, and the environment. Her interpretations of the actions and viewpoints of birds, and their correlation to humanity—the separateness, yet how everything is intertwined—is thoughtful and impressive.

Saad Alsoghair

Saad serves as an Editor-at-Large for MORIA Literary Magazine for Issue Five, and then he is graduating with a degree in Accounting from Woodbury University in May 2020. He is from Saudi Arabia and loves travel, swimming, and soccer.

Headshot credit: Saad Alsoghair