We live in a world of boxes. Boxes made of glass, made of concrete, made of metal, made of plastic, made of steel. We move from one box to another. From a bed in a bedroom, to a bathroom, to a mirror, to a kitchen, to a sink, to a stove. Through the vertical rectangles with a handle or a knob, into a garage, into a car. From the squared off edges of a parking lot, yellow and white lined squares within, into a office building. Varying shades of three-walled boxes boxed into neat boxy rows. Smaller boxes with handsets and direct extensions. Boxes emitting blue-light. The ones we stare into all day, tapping on little square, lettered keys. All the little boxes we sit in until its's time to go back to boxes we call home. We put another little X in another little box, numbered one through thirty-one. Sometimes thirty. Sometimes 28. Sometimes 29, on a leap year. The sequence of right angles we call society. The series of squares we deem civilized.
And maybe that's why we need books. The little boxes that let us out, that call us into the open, that teach us about wild things.
The Hidden World of the Fox by Adele Brand is one such book for me. Brand is a UK based ecologist and author, with a speciality in mammals and an affinity for foxes. In the book she outlines the history, biology, and behavior of the fox. And she does so in clear, accessible, and even poetic ways. She highlights how unique they are. How they defy many of the conceptions of a canid species. Graceful, solitary, elusive, almost cat-like, but, above all, adaptive. An animal undeterred by the encroaching modernity of our own kind. At home in the forest, in a field, in a yard, in alleyways, in a car park. No matter it's surroundings, the fox maintains a fluidity of survival. An effortlessness to its being alive. But never renounces all things that makes it wild.
The fox is "an unfamed presence on the edge of the human world", Brand says. A creature that refuses the constructed corners of all the boxes that we've built. It is rebellious and ungovernable. A trickster. A liminal being. It crosses bounds and borders without hinderance. Always at home in the world, but never constricted. Almost genteel in it's being undomesticated.
And maybe that's why we need books. Books like Brand's. Because we need reminding.
There are things that asphalt can't repress. Something that the suburbs can't subdue. Something unruly at the very heart of everything. There are things that live on the periphery, of our neighborhoods, of our cities, and of ourselves. Something underneath it all that you'll never disavow. Something that can't ever be boxed in.
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A superbly worded piece today! I find myself sat here increasingly jealous of the ways of the Fox. Dreaming of darting across terrain without a thought in the world - no where to go, nothing to do, moving through life a titian shadow.
What an opening. Flooded by images of boxes - the repetition is exquisite - a cubic world of constraint, that feeling of enclosure, of fitting within something already pre-made, predetermined. No escape, if you don’t acquiesce, you don’t fit in, a round peg in a square hole - standing out, a nonconformist. What is scary is that beyond the obvious - home, work, car - there is that expectation of life - a traditional route to working life after school, the financial implications of college - boxing you in further, deeper, the expectation of a 2.4 family, adhering to the seconds, hours, days, weeks that go by - the shopping lists, the checklists - all ticked off, piled high one on top of each other…. Until it all gets too much and it all comes down on your head.
And maybe that's why we need books. The little boxes that let us out, that call us into the open, that teach us about wild things.
I would definitely say that books are an escape from the norm, we stretch beyond the confines of our boxes, dipping our toes into something unfamiliar, something new.
And your description of the foxes here - so different, so free, so uncomplicated in comparison to the restrictions of humanity. Moving through life with such a nonchalance, such ease - only answerable to themselves. Stealthy and slick, surely this is the ideal way to motion through life’s short cycle? The ‘effortlessness at being alive’ is something humanity is presently just so far away from - the amount of work it takes just to get from one day to the next getting bigger and bigger by the day - more hoops to jump through, more rigour to follow, more boxes requiring Xs.
Love the image of foxes being “genteel in it’s being undomesticated” - images of The Fantastic Mr Fox coming to mind here, smooth and mischievous, moving through his days like liquid, no sight of him until he is already there or already passed through - and usually with some kind of trick up his tan velvet sleeve.
Enjoyed the ending too!! And as much as we try to keep within the corners, we are far too undisciplined a species to stop it from seeping out… An outburst, a display, creativity that comes from the core. Being undisciplined is not a fault, it is merely part of humanity, the desire to achieve, be who we are and reach for more - to be seen, to be heard; it's unplugging from the main frame and observing the way the world works - only then can we make a difference.