Myth of the Albatross

Prior to taking Rachel Hoyt up on yet another one of her Smiley Sociology Studies, I knew almost nothing about the albatross, although the bird has long held a prominent place in my imagination.  I wasn't even sure if it was an actual, real bird or just a mythical creature.  Certainly the bird that I had cultivated in my mind's eye was the stuff of legends.  I imagined a huge, dark bird with a vast wingspan, an extremely solitary bird that flew alone over vast miles of ocean.  There was something haunting and melancholy about this bird, and yet something enchanted, as though it were a piece of medieval lore.  I had the impression that the bird's habitat was far, far south, traveling over the oceans surrounding Antarctica, far from any civilization.  Ships straying into those distant waters might spy the bird through the fog and the mist, and the sailors would be shaken to the core by the dark apparition, crossing themselves superstitiously to ward off the bad omen.

This impression of mine was generated mostly by references to the bird in popular speech.  In doing what, for me, passes for research, I learned that a Coleridge poem called The Rime of the Ancient Mariner is responsible for the metaphorical and symbolical attachments that the bird has acquired.  In the poem the mariner of the title shoots the bird for some reason, and the crew of the ship forces the mariner to wear the bird around his neck, because they feel that he has cursed the crew by killing the bird.  Turns out that the bird is actually considered good luck.  It was killing the bird that turned the good omen bad.  I got the Antarctica part right, though...sort of.  In the poem the crew is lost near Antarctica and the bird arrives to lead them back on course...well, until the mariner decides to use it for target practice.

Oddly enough, I'd never heard this poem before.  The references to it had worked their way down to me fourth or fifth hand.  From the poem, the idiom of having "an albatross around you neck" came to mean having some kind of burden or curse, but by the time it got to me, people weren't even wearing the bird as a necklace anymore.  They were just talking about this heavy, burdensome bird that caused everyone sorrow.  I think this is how the bird came to loom so big in my mind.  A heavy bird that dragged you down seemed to be a bit of a paradox to me.  It grew and grew in my mind as a perpetual struggle against its own gravity, like a natural, avian version of the Spruce Goose.

The albatross actually is a large bird, and they actually do have the largest wingspan of any living bird.  They are not however, the dark, mournful creatures that I had imagined.  They look like the picture above.  They look a bit like an exotic duck.  They're kind of cute with pretty colors.  I don't know if I'd want to wear a dead one around my neck, but I'd consider keeping a live one as a pet.

This dreadful bird of my fantasy was one of the last enduring myths in my mind, destined to go the way of Santa Claus and the Tooth Fairy.  It was cobbled together out of hearsay and snatches of fact, and stitched together with poetic conjecture.  It's funny how close I came to accuracy, only to end up missing it by miles.  I'm glad that I've now learned something about the substance of its overbearing gravity, but I'll miss that majestically ugly bird soaring over the lonely miles of open sea.  I've returned the name "albatross" to its rightful owner, and that ugly bird flies off nameless into the dim green mist.