Eagles in Suits

In front of the window of the Stefano Ricci menswear store, a pre-school-age child in a baseball cap was screaming his lungs out because his ice-cream cone had cracked in his giddily gesticulating hands, making the ice cream loosen and then drop to the pavement. His mum crouched down to wipe his dirty mouth with a saliva-soaked tissue, scolding the little monster all the while. The ice cream plopped onto the hard pavement right in front of my feet, so a few melted drops splashed onto my shoes as well. I kept looking at the spots rather angrily, because I now looked like a decorator on his day off, taking a pleasant walk in the crossfire of expensive shopping streets. Mother and son soon left the scene of the crime, and I took a seat on a nearby bench. I produced a handkerchief from my pocket to get rid of the sticky stains. While cleaning my shoe, I glanced at the shop window and was instantly confronted with that eagle symbol with which this world-renowned brand advertises itself.

At the centre of the shop window there was a meticulously executed set of gold-plated armour, leaning on its sword and with an eagle enthroned on top of its helmet with wide wings and tail feathers as long as a peacock’s. All around the armour, on a platform covered in silk, there was a classy display of shirts, shoes, belts and handbags, all marked with the distinctive eagle emblem. On either side of the display, ties arranged in the shape of a lily sprayed out of fine crystal goblets; and standing tall behind them, human-shaped yet eagle-faced figures were strutting their branded suits. In the breast pocket of one of the suits there was a handkerchief in a material matching the tie and folded to show off its pointed edges. The one opposite was dressed in a light-grey suit and black shirt, with a grey silk scarf looped around the neck. The mannequins looked lifelike, and both eagle heads radiated snobbery. Their eyes were shining like glass bullets in the illuminated shop window, just like their narrow, downward curving, gold-plated beaks.

Two sophisticatedly cruel and exceptionally intelligent predators were staring at me from behind the glass, born out of the union between humans and animals, following every single footstep with steely eyes and aquiline beaks. As I was sitting on the bench in front of the shop window, I found myself enslaved to my own hypnosis, and I embarked on a fantasy whereby I was guided into a world in which eagles are the dominant species.

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Let us imagine a society modelled on humans but dominated by golden eagles. In this bizarre world, eagles are just like humans, but with bodies covered with thick feathers and hands and feet having five digits finishing in claws. They can speak, and their intelligence far surpasses that of mankind at present. As a result, there is no inequality among them; all members of their homogenous caste are educated and wealthy. One can only tell the difference between the sexes based on their clothing, and it is obvious that males are in the majority. They wear freshly ironed shirts with tightly knotted, patterned ties and Armani suits, as well as handmade, shiny Pierre Corthay leather brogues. They drive Lamborghini, Maserati and Aston Martin sports cars, they pay their taxes and have up-to-date national insurance contributions. On Sundays they attend tennis parties or hang out at the yacht club, while the older generation favours golf and polo.

They travel first-class on Lufthansa, overseas and all over the world. They learn foreign languages and the piano, playing complicated Bach and Chopin pieces with a talent and empathy that would put anyone to shame. From their VIP boxes they watch Russian ballet; they dance English waltzes in the ceremonial halls of opera houses, and are regulars at four-part recitals. At auctions they enter into cockfights to win millennial treasures dug out of Egyptian sand and the original, now restored, portraits of Renaissance kings.

Those wealthier than the others have their mansions, equipped with a multitude of towers, Greek columns, winter gardens and swimming pools, built on rocky cliffs above the fir trees. They throw sumptuous banquets to celebrate their mutual successes, where they munch on black Beluga caviar canapés and toast their endless wealth creation with Dom Perignon. They read world news on Apple laptops and handle their bank transfers using the latest touchscreen smartphones.

They purchase Swarovski necklaces for their wives’ birthdays, with matching diamond-detailed bracelets. Meanwhile, the females sweat on the steppers of glass-walled and air-conditioned fitness salons. Their limbs, turned flabby after sauna sessions, are worked into shape by masseurs, while their feathers are tanned under the hot, fluorescent lamps of solariums.

The males have the money and natural talent for absolutely anything. They run multinational organisations with iron claws, and discuss matters of urbanization and energy economics at executive board meetings featuring interactive project demonstrations and majority voting. With clever ruses, they push each other out of their way when it comes to the seats of political power, and fight with uninhibited zeal for the best leadership roles.

Their advanced space technology will soon allow them to send spaceships on return journeys to the unknown planets of undiscovered galaxies, thus reviving mass tourism motivated by a special interest in the unknown.

In their homes they keep dogs, and tropical fish housed in fabulous aquariums ordered from expensive catalogues; or human birds held in metal cages, because in a world dominated by eagles, humans are animals incapable of speech and are on a lower scale of intelligence. They have bat wings, naked bodies and bald heads, and hands in lieu of feet. It is now humans that are being displayed in net-covered areas in game parks and zoos, where eagle trainers fly them and offer exciting demonstrations to viewers. After a well-executed stunt, the reward is a dead mouse. In this humanbird reservation, well-trained vets treat sore eyes and wounded nails on palm feet. A number of subspecies are protected, but individuals belonging to the more common species can be, and are even required to be, exterminated, in order to prevent overpopulation.

Eagles are excellent hunters. During the hunting season, equipped with their fully loaded Remington and Krieghoff guns, in groups they chase their prey, who are incapable of hiding. Some swear by hailshot, others by bullet-based hunting guns. Most efficient is the headshot through the eye, since the hole created in this way can easily be covered with a glass eye in the course of taxidermic preparation.

Most great hunters are also collectors. On the mantelpieces of their grand drawing rooms there are arrays of humanbird trophies, often captured in flying poses. Some eagles are addicted to heads and hands. In their homes, the open-plan dining rooms or spacious bedrooms are decorated with humanbird skulls chopped off at the neck, and underneath with the crests of manicured handfeet cut off at the wrist.

When it comes to animals for consumption, it doesn’t matter where the fatal shot has landed; so, following skinning, the cleaned and butchered meat is turned into a majestic feast. Supermarket shelves are dominated by white and red meat, because the widespread use of cutlery has made feeding on carrion lose its significance. Irrespective of whether it is rump stew, medium-cooked breast steak or barbecued leg that makes it to the table, the culinary experience is guaranteed. Shops offer a vast range of correctly priced, well-preserved, marinated or smoked human meat for the demanding consumer. After salmon, this is the best-selling and best-quality meat product, consumed with gusto by those with sharp beaks.

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Well-dressed beasts take over the streets, squares and varnished benches in parks. They visit museums at weekends, and marvel at the artificial flower compositions on Chinese fountains while snacking on sushi from reusable black plastic plates, holding chopsticks between their claws. They find refuge from the sultry heat of early summer under colourful parasols, and sip iced coffee served in beautiful glasses while discussing the current stock-exchange situation. Meanwhile, from the open tram windows, ruffled, white- or brown-feathered monster heads stare at passers-by. Hard, yellow beaks chat to one another across the city, Prada shopping bags rattle in the clutch of razor-sharp claws, while in ostentatious shop windows headless mannequins proffer pieces of sewn elegance.

This perfectly functioning eagle society operates beyond anything human expectation ever imagined. Censored pages of history books guard shocking details about the transformation of this noble bird into the utmost predator in the evolutionary pyramid, which has forced, over the ages, any recently discovered species out of competition, including mankind.

I am brought back from my daydream – which had animated me to such an extent that on the bench I had shrunk into a half-naked being myself – by a shrill, bird-like voice. I’m frightened by this, defenceless animal that I am, and hide my bald head under my leather wings from the screeching assault of a baseball-capped eaglet, who is being dragged away by his mum in the direction of an ice-cream van.

In the wake of this incident, several besuited eagles gather around me. They check me out with an expert eye. Someone observes that it might be a good idea to call in the agency for the protection of animals, at which point I pull myself together and, in fright, hastily fly away.