Conversation Entre Les Tourterelles
09.16.2011 
Madame Tourterelle: It was terrible.
Monsieur Tourterelle: Yes, you told me. I believe you.
Madame Tourterelle: But you weren’t there. You can’t imagine how sad it was. As if you were watching one of our children—but fifty times as heavy, with no wings—try to fly from the nest a few days after he was hatched.
Monsieur Tourterelle: That I can’t imagine. We guard them and feed them day and night until they’re strong enough to fly on their own.
Madame Tourterelle: Humans really don’t have wings.
Monsieur Tourterelle: That’s obvious.
Madame Tourterelle: But this is the first time I felt it viscerally.
Monsieur Tourterelle: Was he fully fledged?
Madame T: Oh yes. You knew him. The one who put out morsels for us on his windowsill.
Monsieur T.: He never had any others of his kind visiting him.
Madame T.: This is what I don’t understand. In Asia, humans are rarely alone. Or that’s what my great-great grandmother told me.
Monsieur T.: I heard the same thing from my great-grandfather, who lived in Key West. He said humans knocked on the doors of new neighbors, and welcomed them, invited them over.
Madame T.: The woman who lived below him was a world traveler, a wise, warm-hearted soul. I heard her say the other day—
Monsieur T.: —Oh dovey, don’t tell me you’re learning human speech now!?
Madame T.: What else do I have to do all night, sitting on those eggs? She leaves her windows open. Friends visit. I heard her telling one of them about the fall. She said she’d wanted to welcome him to the building when he moved in. But you don’t do that in France. She’d heard from his landlord that he was French, but not from Paris, an engineer in his 30s, shy. That was all she knew.
Monsieur T.: Did she see him fall?
Madame T.: Are you asking me a sensationalistic question?
Monsieur T.: Non, ma chère, I’m just wondering if he got confused and thought he could fly.
Madame T.: He jumped! The woman was so shaken, thinking if only this custom of reserve between neighbors wasn’t so strong here, she would have welcomed him, been a friend.
Monsieur T.: Because he was lonely.
Madame T.: Of course he was. It’s easy for us tourterelles. We pair up, have two kids every few months, help each other feed and raise them, and stay together for life.
Monsieur T.: Life seems to be more complicated for humans.
Madame T.: Coo COO coo. That’s the truth. Did you find us another home?
Monsieur T.: I did. It’s in the fifth arrondissement, quite beautiful, among some pink geraniums.
Madame T.: You’re wonderful. Is it safe?
Monsieur T.: These particular humans never open their windows.
Madame T.: Is it soft?
Monsieur T.: A bit too twiggy for my taste.
Madame T.: I’ll fluff it up with some feathers.
Monsieur T: There IS one thing… A human on the next floor up seems like a spy or something. He has this thing set up that looks like a miniature Eiffel Tower holding a big round eye that’s watching the nest. Sometimes two of them take turns looking through that eye.
Madame T.: They’re probably studying us for hints on how to live. How to be calm, productive and peaceful. Content with whatever life brings your way.
Monsieur T.: As long as it’s not a hawk.
Madame T.: Oui, mon amour, anything but that. Shall we help them out?
Monsieur T.: Coo COO coo!
Reader Comments (20)
Your dove tale left me cooing!
Very clever. I used to read a book to my young son that was from the cat's point of view. The cat would sit on a table in the apartment and look out through "hard air" at the park. Another human with long hair would occasionally visit his owner and the two would rub faces together. Then the owner would want the cat to lead him around by a string outside in the park. And yes, life is far more complicated for humans. Haven't you ever wished you could trade places with your pet? Even for a little while?
Hey John,
Thank you! The doves say "Coo COO coo," too.
Love,
Kaaren & Richard
Stuart!
I laughed out loud at this story you used to tell your son. It took a minute to get "hard air." And rubbing faces! And leading humans around the park. So dear.
I feel a little sad. We've been advised not to take Marley outside in Paris, that cats don't live as long if they roam the streets, even on a leash. So no, I wouldn't trade places with him. He doesn't get to explore Paris. But we tell him stories when we return. (You think I"m kidding? As my grandfather used to say, Nay.)
Love to you and thanks,
Kaaren & Richard
Dear Kaaren and Richard,
Isn't he wonderful! What a beauty! A Tyrone Power of doves.
Thank you so much.
I was startled to see his throat moving like that, vibrating. Do you know what that is for?
I love getting your messages; I love being in touch with you both; I love the excellence of what you send.
Thank you so much.
Bruce
Dear Bruce,
Thank you for your appreciation.
We watched Tyrone (Monsieur Tourterelle) yesterday with the same question: what is this fluttering in his throat? We thought at first that he was cuisinarting food for the twins, but their eggs aren't hatched yet. So what is it? Do any of our readers who are bird experts know?
We're happy that Paris Play is delighting you! That gives us delight.
Thanks for your piquant movie reviews.I just forwarded one to my family as recommended viewing.
Love,
Kaaren & Richard
Ah Kaaren and Richard:
The language of doves has a whole meaning for me since the white dove Patrice and I call Fast Eddie came into my life on the eve of my birthday. This is a genius piece on a number of levels. First off the humor and wit is priceless. Second: it provides us with a heartbreaking revelation in regards to the human cruelty of neglect. Third: like all great parables there is a lesson. The Tourterelles are such a fine example of couple love.
I'm thinking Fast Eddie needs a mate.
As always,
Love
Jon
In PP, like a good movie, you give us stories within the stories. For instance, in a previous PP, “Big Girls Do Cry,” humor about descending to reality TV, also contained the story about the epidemic of distorted body image amongst women. I see it frequently in yoga classes when I instruct them to bring feet hip distance apart. Many women, of all ages, will have toes hanging way off the side of their mat.
My first reaction to this PP was to giggle with delight throughout the story with Madame and Monsieur T's conversation. Anthropomorphizing animals is a favorite past time. I fancy myself an expert mind reader and body language interpreter of non-human creatures.
The way you gave the female a femininely wired brain which made her more interested in the subject of relationships and to talk more, a lot more than the male, clearly displayed, to me, your expertise in dove psychology. Their banter about future plans, neighbors and current nesting needs is adorable. They exemplify what I’d consider a healthy, loving relationship.
Then, there’s the parallel story, about the neighbor's failed attempt to fly. For me, this metaphor depicts a current epidemic amongst middle-aged men. Recently, San Diego TV news did a special about homicide/suicides amongst middle-aged men here and across the nation. The numbers are rising. Sigh. The psychologists stated the obvious, that these men feel pressured economically and like failures for not providing as they formerly did. Their solution is to kill off themselves and anybody associated with that pressure. Another, yet bigger sigh.
These two PP’s bring the pressures of how we define ourselves as women and men in this world to the glaring surface. Perhaps our brains could use some re-wiring.
May we all enjoy a cozy nest and healthy close relations amongst geraniums, sans the voyeur neighbors with the camera.
Dear Marguerite,
You are such a close, subtle, intelligent reader! We're thrilled.
I was touched by your description of your yoga students--at first I thought you meant that they were big girls, but now I wonder if you're saying that their sense of their own size is exaggerated?
I'll BET you can read animals' minds. As a "kinaesthetic type," you're probably better at it than anyone. I can't read animals' minds, just certain ones like Marley and our doves who happen to speak English and French (besides their own miaow and co COO coo languages). But doves really are experts in love, which is why they are said to be one of Aphrodite's birds.
Thank you for bringing up this TV program about the increase in suicide rates for men. You're broadening the story, illuminating its connection to the increased economic difficulties both Americans and Europeans are experiencing lately. Men's self-image is more closely tied up in being a good hunter/money gatherer, so hard economic times tend to be harder on men. That's one of the reasons it's so important to have a social network. I think we're meant to help each other in times like these. But we don't know if this man's troubles were economic, psychological or...?, only that he was isolated, and living in a reserved culture, which for a shy person, makes it more difficult to make friends.
It is true that men's and women's brains are wired differently, isn't it. Viva la difference!
Yes, we second your wish, but what's to be done about spies with cameras? I'm afraid they've already infiltrated this building.
Much love,
Kaaren & Richard
Dear Jon,
What a wonderful comment! Thank you so much.
Fast Eddie; a great name for a dove. It sounds like a character from one of your Alphabet City stories. And your dove's appearance is the catalyst for our next Surrealist Cafe invitation.
The Tourterelles do have an excellent marriage. They're doves, born for love. I think Fast Eddie NEEDS a mate. Doves are not loners. He might like to meet Slow Sadie, a Frenchdove who takes her time but gets the job done. I think he'd like her.
Much love,
Kaaren & Richard
"... close, subtle, intelligent reader." Thank you. Your writing style requires and draws thoughtful response out of me. I'd probably lose sleep if I didnt' have the blogging opportunity.
After I posted, it occurred to me that I should have written that women of all ages AND sizes will have toes hanging off the mat. In fact, it is the thinnest, almost anorexic-looking women who overestimate their hip width. At the university, the thin, young college gals do the same.
All love.
What a cleverly- and sensitively-told story about (as many other of your astute-reader friends have said) the difference between men and women in the way a story is percieved and told. How strange humans must seem to other animals. I was SO sad for the man (interesting that for a moment the reader saw him as a baby bird -- it made me think about the man's parents) who jumped and for all who witnessed or wondered about him. The understory here really stopped me in my tracks. Amazing writing, Kaaren, just beautiful. My favorite photo of the doves yet is the one that heads this entry -- and it's so great to have more video -- first of the doves renovating their nest, then of them filling it. Another hawk glided right over me as I stood in my back yard last week. xoj
Marguerite,
As an aside to what you said about women's perception of their hips, I was at my chiropractor's office a year ago and he asked me to stand with my feet at shoulder's width apart. I underestimated. He said wider, No, wider! What's that say about me?!
Dear Jennifer,
Thank you so much from both of us! Aren't those fine glossy eggs? Marley spends hours on the ledge watching them. He watched so hard today that the second dove came whirring down from the rooftop and folded a wing over her mate AND the eggs.
His parents... yes.
You've been spotting that hawk a lot lately. Give him a wave from us next time.
Much love,
Kaaren & Richard
Sorry I'm a little late on this bandwagon. What a lovely little story - from the birds' views.
But did the guy actually jump? Is he dead? Yikes.
That's kind of ghastly.
Dear Lisa,
Yes, and yes. And yes.
Love and love,
Kaaren & Richard
Both a warm and coo COO cool story. Yes, if life could be as simple as a doves. Although... a couple of kids a month seems a bit out of the question, — thats a lot of egg sitting and food re-delivery. I think I prefer the view from the miniature Eiffel Tower with the big round eye piece.
<;-)
I'm quite saddened though for the young "bird" who leapt into infinity... not at all simple.
XO,
Joanne
Hi Joanne,
Yes, we agree--a couple of children every few months would be trying. Luckily the males share the domestic work. That must be a great help.
But life is not always so simple for doves. Wait 'til you hear the sequel to this dove tale.
Your preference for the Eiffel Tower-with-eye piece probably means you're due for a visit to see it for yourself.
XOXO,
Kaaren
Ohhhh, how tempting to come and see for myself. We are working on our "nest" and making it new, cleaner, simpler. Maybe then we can fly away for a bit. I shall envision this.
XXOO,
Joanne
Joanne,
Good! Make it in the next year, if you can.
Simplifying the nest: that's lifelong work, don't you think?
Much love,
Kaaren & Richard