Max Porter’s “Grief is the Thing with Feathers”: A Literary Hybrid Taking Flight on Stage and Screen
A groundbreaking exploration of loss and the power of myth, Max Porter’s debut novel continues to resonate with audiences through innovative adaptations.
Max Porter’s first book, Grief is the Thing with Feathers, published in 2015, is more than just a literary success; it’s a deeply personal work born from the author’s own experience of losing his father at age six. Described by Porter as “a love letter to my dad,” the book has become a touchstone in contemporary literature for its unconventional approach to portraying grief, whether experienced directly or observed in others. The narrative centers on a husband and his two sons navigating life after the sudden death of their wife and mother, and the unexpected arrival of a most unusual companion: Crow.
A Unique Literary Form
The book’s originality lies in its refusal to be easily categorized. Critics have labeled it a novel, a verse novel, a prose poem, magical realism, formal experimentation, and even a play for voices. Reviewer Lucy Scholes aptly describes Grief is the Thing with Feathers as “a beguiling literary hybrid,” noting its form is “as slippery and shapeshifting as Crow himself.” This fluidity is intentional, mirroring the chaotic and fragmented nature of grief itself.
Porter’s inspiration stems from the poetry of Emily Dickinson, specifically her poem “Hope” is the thing with feathers. He borrows not only the title but also an epigraph from Dickinson’s work: “That Love is all there is…”, subtly altering it by crossing out “love” and replacing it with “crow” – a symbolic act that foreshadows the central role of the enigmatic bird.
The Arrival of Crow
The presence of Crow is established immediately, with a “big, black” feather appearing on the boys’ pillow. This is not a singular occurrence; feathers materialize throughout the house, creating an unsettling yet compelling atmosphere. Crow himself arrives with a visceral impact, described as bursting into the story with a “stench” and “a crack and a whoosh.”
He offers a strange form of solace, lifting the grieving father into the air and declaring, “I won’t leave until you don’t need me any more.” Crow becomes an unlikely caregiver, observing that the house is saturated with mourning: “every surface dead Mum, every crayon, tractor, coat, welly, covered in a film of grief.”
Voices of Grief and the Influence of Ted Hughes
The book is structured around the distinct voices of the Boys, Dad, and Crow, each delivering monologues that resemble soliloquies. There is no traditional dialogue; characters speak to the audience, echoing the isolation often felt during bereavement. This technique, reminiscent of Samuel Beckett’s plays, emphasizes the internal struggles of each character.
A key layer of the narrative is the father’s profession as a Ted Hughes scholar, specifically working on a new book about Hughes’s seminal work, Crow. Hughes’s Crow is a trickster figure, a shapeshifter embodying grief and myth. Porter’s Crow operates in a similar vein, being playful, violent, tender, and brutally honest: “I was friend, excuse, deus ex machina, joke, symptom, figment, spectre, crutch, toy, phantom, gag, analyst and babysitter. […] I’m a template […] A myth to be slipped in.”
The question of Crow’s reality is deliberately ambiguous. Is he a manifestation of grief, a metaphor the father clings to, or is he genuinely present? The text offers both possibilities, with Crow scattering feathers and engaging in tangible actions, while also being acknowledged as a symbolic representation of loss. As one character reflects, “it could have been anything, could have gone any way, but something more or less healthy happened.”
A Gentle Resonance and Expanding Reach
At its core, Grief is the Thing with Feathers doesn’t offer answers about grief, but rather a space to experience its complexities. The book’s impact is evident in its critical acclaim, including the 2016 International Dylan Thomas Prize, and its continued relevance in popular culture.
Porter has continued to explore themes of loss and the fantastical in subsequent works, including Lanny (2019), The Death of Francis Bacon (2021), and Shy (2023). However, Grief is the Thing with Feathers remains his most widely recognized achievement.
The book’s reach is expanding beyond the page, with a stage adaptation by Enda Walsh starring Cillian Murphy at the Barbican in London, and a new production directed by Simon Phillips set to open at Belvoir Street Theatre in Sydney. Furthermore, a film adaptation, The Thing with Feathers, starring Benedict Cumberbatch, is scheduled for release in November. Whether experienced as a book, play, or movie, Grief is the Thing with Feathers remains a powerful and moving exploration of the human condition.
