Book Review: The Birder by Lorna Robinson

A fantastical trip into a world where human death has been replaced by metamorphosis

In my experience, it can be dangerous for authors to pick a fantastical premise and set it in a contemporary era, because their readership as a body of people can invent edge cases in their mind much more interesting than the author as a singular mind is able to. The change in The Birder is incredibly simple: it takes the metaphor of “death-as-transformation” literally, and uses Ovid’s Metamorphoses as a primary scientific text in the same vein as Columella’s De Rerum Natura. At every opportunity my brain had to wander away from the text to formulate a question about the way something worked, Lorna Robinson came up with an answer and further invented a more interesting edge case in the same vein as my thinking. As I was pondering whether churches would have cemeteries, for example, the author blindsided me with the idea of a “preterm metamorphosis,” which is exactly as horrifying as it sounds. To say I felt “outsmarted” feels incorrect; not only is it a testament to the author’s wit rather than pure intelligence, but it also carries a negative connotation that doesn’t reflect the delight I had at experiencing each of these moments.

Certain works of historical fiction are hesitant to earnestly tackle the topic of religion despite centering their plot around the events of those times. It takes a critical eye to add something new to an old story, and most authors aren’t comfortable engaging with their faith on that level. In this novel, the miracle of Jesus Christ’s death on the cross is adapted from his ascension to his lack of a metamorphosis. In and of itself this is not a revolutionarily new approach, but it serves as an early marker of the author’s willingness to address the cultural mores of death at every level of society.

Chiefly, though, her focus is on the philosophical side of death. In this world, human beings’ distinguishing characteristic from the rest of animalia is not merely logos but also our metamorphoses. For centuries it was a question of philosophy, not medicine, why people died when they did. The framing of this universe returns humanity to this state of mind. Academic journals debate the precise reasons why people change into certain animals (if there is indeed a consistent reason) rather than solely medical ones. Additionally, the character Merel is at the beginning of her PhD program researching whether the birdsong of birds that were once humans has the same qualities as egg-hatched birds of the same species.

There are a few negatives here as well, though. This novel does leave one wanting to explore these concepts more, which is usually a sign that the author has done their work well. On the other hand, it gets progressively more preachy as the work comes to a close. To some extent I do feel that the book has “earned” this in order to get its message across, but those with a distaste for religious overtones may be turned off by this. I also wish we got to spend a little more time developing the characters. This is a rather short work, and interspersing the narrative with another 20 or so pages of mundane activities may have helped flesh out some more individual traits to make the characters stand out.

For one of my few reviews of recent releases, it’s a real pity that this novel has flown so under the radar. Perhaps the market has finally waned as a reaction to the glut of magical realism it released from 2010-2020, which would be a real pity because it’s an element of storytelling I particularly enjoy. It’s also reminiscent of Lois Lowry’s The Giver in the way that it handles arcane knowledge that the public could know if they chose to but rejects it in favor of a less dolorous status quo. I expect fans of that book will especially enjoy this one, as few others have scratched that same itch of mine since reading it as a child. Two stars.