The Song of the Emu
by Cavan Brown
Zadok Perspectives Issue No. 62
Spring/Summer 1998/1999

Introduction

The third article in our series on themes in Australian spirituality is the song of the bird with the odd feather

Cavan Brown
Cavan Brown is the minister of Geraldton Baptist Church, WA, and is the author of Pilgrim Through Barren Land, Albatross, 1991, and the forthcoming The Blackfellas' Friend: a life of John Gribble (Access Press, 1999).

MANY THINGS PASS OVER my desk, some with great speed on the way to the bin. But for one year, an emu feather remained on my desk. I looked at it often and wondered whether it had a Song. I even told a few people that one day, I would hear the Song of the Emu Feather. And they looked at me strangely.

I lost the feather when I moved house. Which is a pity because I think I finally heard the Song of the Emu Feather.

An emu feather is an odd object in that it has two separate quills that join together at the base. Now, if I could demonstrate that this dual feather has been designed for doubling the power of flight for the emu then the meaning of the feather would be clear. But this double feather belongs to a bird that can't fly which is as incongruous as a fish that can't swim, or a Welshman that can't sing.
And that is not the only oddity in this bird. Ms Emu is a bit of a character-a very head-strong lady who did not wait until the liberation movements of the I960 and '70s to break the shackles of male domination. When courting she does not sit in hope for a male to make a few suggestions. No, Ms Emu does the choosing, and then the suggesting, by a series of booming drum noises and gulps which may not do much for others but obviously have a devastating effect on Mr Emu.

When the courting is complete, and the eggs arrive, Ms Emu feels that her side of the contract is met and so she returns to run with the mob. In fact, so far as Ms Emu is concerned, that is it. Next year, when the hormones strike again, she will look for someone else. In the meantime 'old man emu' is left carrying the baby, or more literally, a nest full of eggs. How does one retain any macho image when you are left to sit on eggs-contemplating a year of looking after the chicks-and then hoping for another Ms to start her booming.

An odd feather belonging to an odd bird, a bird that can't fly, a 'mother hen' that doesn't mother and a 'father' that sits on eggs and looks after the kids.

In the Dreaming, the male emu is represented by Dinewan, who also appears to be a pretty odd kind of bird. At one stage Dinewan, being the biggest, was acknowledged king by the other birds. But the Goomble-gubbons (the bush turkeys) became jealous and schemed a way to remove Dinewan's power by grounding him-a terrible handicap for a bird. The bush turkey pretended that he had lost his wings and told Dinewan that if the emu wanted to remain king of the birds it had to learn to fly without wings. Dinewan, without suspecting any guile, cut off his wings only to find himself unable to fly. Certainly, not a very bright bird.

Now, it is natural that people want to laugh at the odd ways of the emu and I think, from the emu's perspective, they don't mind because they are mature, secure and can take it. But what the emu does not like is when people laugh at their oddities but refuse to acknowledge their strengths. The problem for the emu is that people concentrate on the odd feathers and say that if you have an odd feather or two then you do not fit neatly into the world of order. The odd feather is made into a caricature in which flightless, non-maternalistic, non-male dominance features overwhelm any other characteristic of strength and giftedness.

Yet regardless of its ways, the emu stands alongside the kangaroo on the coat of arms. Australians have seen past the oddities. Something of the ageless mystique and gentle strength of our land has been recognised in the emu.

The emu also has a place in scripture. In the last chapters of the book of Job, God is seen leading Job through the world and universe and teaching Job some Songs of Creation, including the Song of the Ostrich (Job 39:13-18). The ostrich, the cassowary and the emu are all from the same order of Struthioniformes and while the three are distinctly different, yet they have a common genetic inheritance that sets their behavioural characteristics of non-flight and a low maternal instinct regardless of whether they are in Africa, New Guinea or Australia.

To: Part 2