My friend John Taylor, of Washington, D.C., recently asked if I wanted to pit my bald eagle against one of his two Congo African gray parrots. In terms of air superiority, there would of course be no contest. But John had in mind a different sort of competition, a battle of letters. Whose feathers make the better quill pens, he wondered — America’s mighty national bird or his pampered equatorial brainiac? On behalf of the local nesting eagles who supply the bulk of my writing instruments, I accepted the challenge.
John sent me a few flight feathers retired by his parrot Chimo. I selected one at random and put it up against a fresh bald-eagle feather.
Feather of a Congo African gray parrot (top), with superior American bald eagle feather
To ensure a level playing field, I gave both quills identical nibs, carved according to the same half-remembered YouTube video. Both quills would copy the same line of text, the opening of Lord Timothy Dexter’s little book, A Pickle for the Knowing Ones (spelling courtesy of Lord Dexter). And both would employ the same media: Pelikan 4001 Fountain Pen Ink in violet — my go-to ink for purple prose — on Staples 110-pound card stock.
By a coin toss, the American bald eagle went first.
Quill of the American bald eagle
As the above image makes clear, the eagle delivered exactly the type of performance you’d want to see from the avian symbol of the United States: confident, slightly illiterate, and prone to guzzle ink by the gallon. Nice swagger, USA! Now let’s see if the chattering challenger can top that.
Quill of the Congo African gray parrot
Aw, too bad. Those initials are bold enough, but everything else looks kind of wispy and intellectual. There’s no follow-through, as though Chimo’s heart just wasn’t in it.
In fairness to Congo African grays, it’s possible that John’s parrot did not volunteer his best plumage. Birds seldom do. In my dealings with American bald eagles, I always show the bird who’s boss. I see the quill I want (which, as I’ve noted before, is the second or third primary flight feather of the left wing), and I take it. Twist, tug, and gone. Usually, of course, I dangle a squirrel in front of the bird to distract it. I imagine an African gray would be similarly mesmerized by, oh, a little savory cracker and a morsel of soft cheese, or The News Hour with Jim Lehrer. We’ll have a rematch as soon as Chimo grows a pair.
Meanwhile, I’ll put my American eagle up against your Alpine swift, your Siberian crane, your Nubian bustard, whatever type of exotic feather you care to throw my way. But be forewarned: unless I completely misread the literary market, Americans want to buy books written with the quills of American birds. And that’s the only kind of quill I use.
His Effing Nibs 