The Snoring Bird

Can’t you hear it?

Sometimes, between reading steamy gay romances, outdated fairy tales, and science-fantasy books, I manage to fit in a dollop or two of non-fiction. I used to do it more when I work at a place where I could immediately apply or pass on what I’d learned, but I still find a lot of value in non-fiction (especially with a science focus).

When I worked out in the woods, one of the authors that was frequently read by my coworkers, and thus by me, was Bernd Heinrich. He’s a nature writer and scientist–a naturalist, I suppose, of the sort who still does field observations. His science is fascinating, and he discovers some really amazing things–I always realize how much there is still to learn when I read his books.

But. I find his prose to be…scattered. It’s not awful, but he has a way of skipping between subjects that frustrates me to no end. So I read one of his books, love the science, get annoyed at the style, then over time I forget the latter and read another of his books, where I love the science, but hate the style, and so the pattern repeats.

The Snoring Bird was on sale a while back, and I got excited (obviously in the forgetting stage) and purchased it. I expected that when I finally cracked open the file I would have a repeat of my experiences.

The Snoring Bird isn’t just a scientific tome, however. It’s the narrative story–almost a memoir or auto-biography–of his family history (and his own), focusing mostly on his father’s lifetime contributions to science, and then on his own, but also covering …so much more.

And the style didn’t bother me. I don’t know if it was the less-scientific nature of the book, or that I’ve adjusted to his style better, or if this is a later work than his others and he’s been growing into an even better writer, but I liked this more than I liked the other books of his I’ve read. Not that I disliked those, just that this one was even better.