Bird Life by Anna Smaill has hit me a little differently than any novel I’ve read in quite a while. At first, this novel appears to be about the unexpected friendship between a young teacher from New Zealand and an older native speaker in Japan, both joined through tragedy and magical powers.
It is easy (and a little too quickly) to criticize this novel as it seems to not have anything that moves it along or that creates memorable and relatable characters. However, Smaill has presented a true dichotomization of what is reality and what is reality for someone with mental health issues. By the final of three parts, the reader understands what it feels like to struggle with reality within mental sickness because readers are not 100% confident in what is or isn’t happening.
“She was standing in this position when she heard it. Nothing remarkable at all, really. A quiet hum. Gentle, like a cat purring. But she recognised it. It was a gentle chastisement. And she understood that it had been there all along. She had pushed her panic into it. The thousand things: fear, desire, panic. She had drowned it out. Relief came to Yasuko. But not like before, not all at once. It came quietly, steadily. There was no sense of desperation or fear. There was no grand delight nor rush of blood. It was something simple and steady. She turned and looked up at the sky with a stronger sense of gravity altogether.
Her gift was not an ignis fatuus. It would not go away and leave her. It was in her and indivisible from her being, as she was part of the day, part of the sky itself.
The hum came from the sky. Her powers speaking. And a darkening, as if before a storm.
She stood and watched. The hum transformed. It became a flapping, a great and wild disturbance of the city’s frequencies.
Then there were birds. Wings in the sky. She saw them: pigeons, crows, sparrows, magpies, thrushes, shrikes. City birds and those from parks and further afield. Wings up like sails. She felt her heart move in her chest, with gratitude. They came in waves and landed on the concrete, layers of them, a black and grey and moving carpet. In the pet shop down the concrete path, she could hear the tame pets shrieking. They were pacing, pressing against the glass. The lap dogs barking, the kittens scratching, the rabbits slamming at the boards with their paws as if they could dig themselves free. She stood in the middle of the concrete, and the birds of the air came to her.
Some perched on her body, some on her hair. Their claws grasped tight as if to say: you will never be alone. We are your children too.”
(“Bird Life” by Smaill,Anna)
This novel is less about Dinah befriending and helping Yasuko (and being helped by Yasuko).
“Each of us has a small flame, a light that is our very own. Wouldn’t you agree?…
“In my experience, people are either vampires or cattle. The vampires try to drain your light, your warmth; they get a sort of strength from it. The others, the cattle, they are simply ignorant, they trample blindly everywhere. I am not sure which is worse….
Wherever I am I can tell the exact moment someone else begins to press upon my flame, when they try to borrow from or bend that little filament. I am almost pathological in my protection of this small flame.”
(“Bird Life” by Smaill,Anna)
It is more about Dinah and Jun connecting over their loss of the most important people in their lives to mental illness. Both have to find their identities and begin from noting, after their identities being entirely defined by those they’ve lost.
“Everything was floating, floating in the light, and Dinah understood at last that everything had been there all along. It was she who had been blind. She had not seen any of it. On and on they walked, going deeper or further in toward the heart of something, though who knew what that might be.”
(“Bird Life” by Smaill,Anna)
Smaill’s writing took my breath away at times, especially in the final part of the book.
“Tell me about your brother,’ Jun said.
‘We were twins,’ said Dinah. ‘He built the world, and we both lived inside it. He made it up, and I believed him.’…
“Jun shrugged. ‘I don’t know if surviving is what I am doing. But what I am doing, what I am forcing myself to do, is trying to see the world without her in it. It is very, very dull. There are no short cuts. I don’t know how to make anything come alive. But I have to do it”
(“Bird Life” by Smaill,Anna)
I was provided a free DRC of this book by Edelweiss in exchange for my honest opinion.