Bird of the Month: The Peacock -The Toast

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I have some concern in presenting you with the bird of May. I have been raised to regard the peacock as very bad luck. I do not touch their feathers and I do not allow their picture in my house. When I see friends wearing peacock feathers, or some garment with a pattern of peacock feathers, I have to stop myself suggesting that maybe they want to take off the scarf or earring or bracelet, right now. Maybe they want to throw it away, in fact? No?

I am not the only one to find the peacock suspect. In 1860, Charles Darwin wrote to a friend that “the sight of a feather in a peacock’s tail, whenever I gaze at it, makes me sick.”

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Darwin was working on his theory of evolution, and the peacock’s train seemed to disprove his observations. It’s beautiful, sure, but it’s not exactly a survival tool. It doesn’t make the peacock stronger or faster, or help him gather food. In fact, it is a nuisance to drag a 3.5ft train behind you all the time.

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This anomaly prompted Darwin to develop the theory of sexual selection: that some traits emerge through the generations not because those traits have kept their owners alive long enough to reproduce, but because they are traits attractive to the opposite sex. The peacock’s magnificent, cumbersome train has grown more magnificent and cumbersome over millennia because females are drawn to the males who have particularly long train feathers with particularly large eye-spots.

Strictly speaking, ‘peacock’ refers only to the male bird. The generic name is ‘peafowl’, encompassing both the male peacock and the female peahen. However, the male so dwarfs the female in both literal and figurative stature that ‘peacock’ is often used informally to refer to both sexes. The peacock/fowl is a member of the family Phasianidae, which includes pheasants, partridges, chickens and quails. If you look hard at a pheasant, you can see the family resemblance:

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Credit: Gary Noon 

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Peacocks hanging out with their chicken cousins, painted by Albertus Verhoesen, 1882

There are three species of peafowl: the green peafowl, native from Indonesia to Myanmar; the Congo peafowl, which lives only in the Congo and was unknown to Western naturalists until 1936; and the Indian or blue peafowl, which is native to South Asia but has spread throughout the world over the last three millennia, thanks to human interest in the species. The earliest record we have of peacocks moving west is in the Bible, where King Solomon imports the bird along with gold, silver, ivory and apes. That was in about 940 BC.

Most peafowl art, mythology and study relates to the Indian peacock, because it is much hardier, more widespread and more sociable than the green and the Congo. And most of the mythology around peacocks ignores the peahen and focuses on the male and its feathers.

The Indian peacock has several color variants. The most striking of these is the white, which looks rather like a peacock in a wedding dress:

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The Indian peacock’s train consists of about 140 feathers. Around 100 of these have the ocelli, the ‘eyes’.

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The remainder are longer and green, ending in a V-shape.

The train does not prevent the peacock from flying or running (over a short distance, a peacock can run faster than a human), but it can be a liability while roosting. In its natural habitat, the peacock’s main predator is the tiger. If a peacock doesn’t make sure to choose a branch high enough so that his train is well out the way, a tiger will catch its claws in the feathers and drag the peacock down.

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This peacock will be safe from a tiger.

The peacock does not have his train the whole year round. Exact periods of growth and moulting depend on the climate; in his native India, the peacock’s train starts to grow each February, in time for the mating season, and moults in August.

During mating season, the bird will fan out his train and circle slowly so that he can be admired from all angles, ruffling the feathers a little as he does so.

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Have you ever wondered what kind of structure supports this magnificent display? Wonder no longer:

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That flame-shaped group of grey feathers is the peacock’s tail, and it helps keep his fanned train erect.

Generally, peahens pretend to ignore the peacock’s display. They continue to peck about for food on the ground and look very bored by the whole thing.

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Peacocks are renowned not just for their jeweled body and feathers but for their ugly feet: large and knobbly, with spurs which they use in fighting. Their call is ugly too: a swooping, two-note wail. Myth links foot and call, saying that the peacock is so dazzled by his own beauty that he forgets his feet – and when he catches sight of them, he cannot help crying out in dismay.

In her book about the bird, Christine Jackson suggests that attitudes towards the peacock divide east from west, with eastern associations positive and western negative. In the east, peacocks have long been associated with divinity. They are a Hindu symbol of immortality, in part because they can eat poisonous snakes without being harmed. A peacock is the vahana (vehicle) of Murugan, god of war, wisdom and love.

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Murugan and his consorts riding on a peacock which stands on a snake. By Raja Ravi Varma (1848-1906) 

In the west, pride is the primary peacock association. The expression ‘proud as a peacock’ comes not just from the peacock’s fanned train but from the way he struts, holding himself stiffly as he goes – but you too might look a little stiff if you were carrying such a weight of feathers. The idea that the peacock’s feathers are bad luck is a European one – but not one that is widespread, however strongly I feel about it. It is unclear how the superstition developed, but the most likely explanation has to do with the resemblance between the feathers’ ocelli and the Evil Eye.

Jackson’s east-positive/west-negative divide breaks down slightly on closer inspection. In Java and Myanmar, there is a belief that peacocks will peck out the eyes of small children, mistaking them for the precious stones they like to swallow. In the Christian tradition, the peacock is often used to represent pride in depictions of the seven deadly sins – but it is also a symbol of the incorruptibility of Christ, since the bird’s flesh, when dried, does not rot.

One of the most famous peafowl-keepers of modern times is Flannery O’Connor, who at one point owned about 50 – although “owned” is not quite the right word. As she writes in her 1961 essay ‘Living with a Peacock’: “If I refer to them as ‘my’ peafowl, the pronoun is legal, nothing more. I am the menial, at the beck and squawk of any feathered worthy who wants service.” The essay is delightful but I come away from it feeling fonder of O’Connor than I do of peacocks. I do not love the peacock, and I will not welcome him and his ill-omened feathers into my heart and home. Nevertheless, it is good to know your enemy. And if I must have an avian enemy, I am glad that it is one which so imperiously demands respect.

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For so long I have been the only person I know (outside of family) convinced that peacocks are bad luck! I will not keep peacock things in the house or wear them, and when a friend got a huge peacock feather tattoo I bit my tongue. When a woman I know had a peacock-themed wedding I bit my tongue A LOT. I AM NOT ALONE.

Also, between the acting-bored, imperious demands of respect, and unexpected unearthly screeching, peacocks sound like soul cousins to cats.
I love peacocks. Most stately homes/ zoo's etc have them - they were very popular for rich people for a long time, transported from India, and many wealthy families have had a breeding flock of peafowl for hundreds of years.

I actually like the noise they make - it reminds me of childhood holidays to the kind of places that offered multiple educational attraction for your money. A petting zoo, a stately home to wander around, attractive gardens, falconry.
8 replies · active 565 weeks ago
My grandparents lived next to the L.A. arboretum with its free range peafowl. The sound of a 13-lb bird landing on the roof of your house is distinctive and loud.
This made me kind of nostalgic. I have fond childhood memories of the arboretum.
I used to live in a lovely farmhouse. I learned on my first Saturday morning there, planning to sleep past dawn for the first time in the week, like you do, that the previous tenant liked peacocks. She hand-fed them from the f*ing bedroom window! How would I know that? Imagine. At dawn. On a Saturday. Repeat every weekend for the next year. (I was always up before dawn on weekdays for a long commute to work.) I like peacocks. From a distance.
My brother once catered a wedding for a woman who came from old money and had six guard peacocks that followed him and his staff around when they toured her grounds.

She also had two rooms full of dolls that she would play with well into the night and a flock of chickens that she would let in the house to watch TV whenever they didn't feel good.

She was walking proof that with enough money you're eccentric, not mentally imbalanced.
Was she getting married? I must know more.
She was the one getting married and it was a 1920s themed wedding. She wanted to be as period appropriate as possible down to the beverages, but my brother had to explain that the original formula of Coca Cola was no longer available due to cocaine being a prime ingredient but that Coca Cola made with cane sugar would be a decent compromise.

She also had a fish tank full of poisonous frogs in the kitchen.
New role model.
This lifestyle seems perfectly reasonable to me.
I love the cry of the peacock. There is a cathedral down the street from where I work, and three peacocks roam the grounds in warmer weather - two blue and one white. The white one is definitely the most extroverted of the bunch; his name is Phil, and I'll often spend a peaceful lunch hour sitting in the sun and watching Phil strut his stuff. (There are no peahens there, just a bunch of sexually frustrated males - perhaps appropriately for a church?)
As a child, I attended a Girl Scout camp that was near a property where someone kept peafowl. Nothing will spread a good summer-camp ghost story faster than being awoken every night at 2 a.m. by UNEARTHLY SHRIEKING IN THE WOODS, I tell you what.
Negative western attitudes towards peacocks may be related to their connection with the goddess Hera in Greek myth. There aren't a ton of societies more starkly patriarchal than ancient and Classical Greece and Hera, as eldest and most powerful of the female Olympians, is regularly portrayed as the archetypal nagging, meddling, rebellious wife. She tricks and seduces Zeus at a critical point in the Iliad to swing the Trojan War in a direction she prefers; she's a recurring antagonist of Herakles, and hates the hero as one of her husband's illegitimate children. The peacock was her bird as the eagle was Zeus's, and given her perception among ancient Greek men--as well as those men's general perception of cultures where the bird was held to be lucky as 'effeminate eastern barbarians'--it's unsurprising that they would have a negative view of the peacock, or pass that view down to succeeding cultures.
Is it weird that someone with such good factual information--and the good taste to be a Flannery O'Connor fan--holds negative superstitions about a living organism that's just trying to go about its peafowl life, getting pealaid and making peababies? Not a fan.
I once visited a botanical garden in Hawaii that had peafowl. We were eating lunch at outdoor tables by a bunch of other tourists with a couple peahens hanging around. The peacock then came strutting by and when all the tourists rushed over there to take his picture, the peahens stole their food off the tables. Clearly this was a racket they had run before.
Hollywood Forever Cemetery in ....Hollywood has a population of peacocks and peafowls wandering around. you'd never believe such a LOUD INHUMAN SCREAMING could come from such a relatively small bird.

I have a vintage Liberty's tie that's patterned in overlapping blue and purple peacock feathers. I'll wear it the next time I want to be formal but faintly sinister and suspect.

Your NBC Hannibal tie in quote of the day! "I wanted to raise peacocks, like she [O'Connor] did but ...they're really stupid, stupid birds."
OH OH OH next time You're in D.C Check out the Peacock Room
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Peacock_Room

It's a wonderful example of the insane, lush decadent anglo-japanese style, one of Whistlers only interior design commissions, and has a great story behind it (Whistler was brought in to finish it when the first artist fell ill, he went with his own idea of what it should look like, the when the owner arrived when it was done he was horrified by the over-ride gilt madness of it all. The rest of the home is almost comically restrained and formal in comparison.)
2 replies · active 565 weeks ago
I love the Peacock Room! Although the Freer has to be one of my favorite museums (I love how each room properly transitions to the next, and how it's relative smallness is beautifully manageable in an afternoon), it always, always surprises me how little mention of orientalism there is and how that plays out in the museum. The Peacock Room and Whistler's imitations of eastern art are great examples of how western artists both objectified and tried to integrate eastern- "ness" into their works. I would argue that the existence of the museum itself is a result of orientalism--detroit railroad tycoon curating Asian art--and it's fascinating, challenging, and beautiful at the same time.
I work in a historic 1880s mansion and the family that built it had a peacock feather screen in front of the fireplace in their parlor. Bit of a decadent fire hazard.
This reminded me of a semi-forgotten memory. We used to live in a country setting with a lot more open land. Some neighbor raised peacocks that would escape semi-regularly and wander our backfield. No one believed me (roughly 6-7 years old) the first time I said I saw a peacock, until the next morning when it was strolling through the horse pasture as if it owned it, making the loudest screeching you ever heard. I enjoyed saying 'I told you so' for like three months, in that most precocious annoying way a young child can.
There are peacocks living around a rural camping area near my hometown, and there's nothing like being awakened by a peacock call in the middle of the night in your tent when you're 12 years old and you think someone is screaming for help.
THEIR FLESH DOESN'T DECAY????
I love these articles! I hate peacocks. They sound like whiney children crying MOOOOOMMMMMM!!!
I don't think peacocks are bad luck, they just REALLY FREAK ME OUT. I'm not exactly frightened of them, they just seem like repugnant aberrations of nature and I want to retch if I'm too close to one. Shudder.
There is a great little monastic abbey in Louisiana just on the other side of Lake Pontchartrain from New Orleans, and they have a big collection of peacocks that were donated to them by a rich patron because of the Christian symbolism. I stayed there for a yoga retreat once (!), and besides seeing gorgeous white heron visiting the abbey pond and river, you could also go for walks between the peacock cages -- blue and white peacocks both.

The Christian symbolism is more complicated than it says here. Peacocks are associated with immortality because their dried flesh doesn't decay, sort of life saints' bodies, but they are also associated with paradise and the Tree of Life because of old Babylonian symbolism -- the paradise connection is what I mainly heard about. Also, the eyes in their tail can be symbolic of the heavens and all the heavenly bodies up in the skies.

Here is a link to the abbey. It's great. They also make their own simple pinewood coffins and produce a few for people in the area as well, as a little business.
Fun fact: the tales aren't to attract the ladies, as scientists have recently discovered. The ladies seem to like the "singing" of certain male birds over others. The tales are there to scare off rivals, like with a turkey.

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