What do you think?
Rate this book
The Birdman's Wife
Inspired by a letter found tucked inside her famous husband’s papers, The Birdman’s Wife imagines the fascinating inner life of Elizabeth Gould, who was so much more than just the woman behind the man.
Elizabeth was a woman ahead of her time, juggling the demands of her artistic life with her roles as wife, lover and helpmate to a passionate and demanding genius, and as a devoted mother who gave birth to eight children. In a society obsessed with natural history and the discovery of new species, the birdman’s wife was at its glittering epicentre. Her artistry breathed life into hundreds of exotic finds, from her husband’s celebrated collections to Charles Darwin’s famous Galapagos finches.
Fired by Darwin’s discoveries, in 1838 Elizabeth defied convention by joining John on a trailblazing expedition to the untamed wilderness of Van Diemen’s Land and New South Wales to collect and illustrate Australia’s ‘curious’ birdlife.
From a naïve and uncertain young girl to a bold adventurer determined to find her own voice and place in the world, The Birdman’s Wife paints an indelible portrait of an extraordinary woman overlooked by history, until now.
Elizabeth was a woman ahead of her time, juggling the demands of her artistic life with her roles as wife, lover and helpmate to a passionate and demanding genius, and as a devoted mother who gave birth to eight children. In a society obsessed with natural history and the discovery of new species, the birdman’s wife was at its glittering epicentre. Her artistry breathed life into hundreds of exotic finds, from her husband’s celebrated collections to Charles Darwin’s famous Galapagos finches.
Fired by Darwin’s discoveries, in 1838 Elizabeth defied convention by joining John on a trailblazing expedition to the untamed wilderness of Van Diemen’s Land and New South Wales to collect and illustrate Australia’s ‘curious’ birdlife.
From a naïve and uncertain young girl to a bold adventurer determined to find her own voice and place in the world, The Birdman’s Wife paints an indelible portrait of an extraordinary woman overlooked by history, until now.
400 pages, Hardcover
First published October 1, 2016
166 people are currently reading
2356 people want to read
About the author
Melissa Ashley
3 books109 followersMelissa Ashley is a writer, poet, birder and academic who tutors in poetry and creative writing at the University of Queensland. She has published a collection of poems, The Hospital for Dolls, short stories, essays and articles.
What started out as research for a PhD dissertation on Elizabeth Gould became a labour of love and her first novel, The Birdman’s Wife. Inspired by her heroine, she studied taxidermy as a volunteer at the Queensland Museum.
Melissa was born in New Zealand and moved to Queensland at the age of eight; she lives in Brisbane with her two children.
What started out as research for a PhD dissertation on Elizabeth Gould became a labour of love and her first novel, The Birdman’s Wife. Inspired by her heroine, she studied taxidermy as a volunteer at the Queensland Museum.
Melissa was born in New Zealand and moved to Queensland at the age of eight; she lives in Brisbane with her two children.
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 30 of 290 reviews
April 18, 2021
4.5★
Most enjoyable. (Don't be put off by the ew! remarks.) A wonderfully detailed, and obviously well-researched fictional autobiography of Elizabeth Gould. In her Author’s Note, Ashley says:
“Virginia Woolf observed that ‘Women have served all these centuries as looking glasses possessing the magic and delicious power of reflecting the figure of a man at twice its natural size.’”
In the early 1800s, when John Gould was establishing himself as a zoologist and taxidermist, taxidermy had become something of a popular do-it-yourself craft.
“In penny shops you could purchase a pamphlet with precise instructions on how to stuff a bird or vole or ferret, to preserve a sea sponge or cut and polish a beach-combed fossil . . . There were recipes for cooking a batch of arsenical soap over the fire and for pot-stirring a mound of gum Arabic and candy sugar into fixing glue. Windowsills and hearths were suggested as niches for drying.”
Eww!
And we think we're clever, collecting rocks and shells, eh? Actually, these days we’re not supposed to take things from beaches and national parks, but I digress.
Charles Coxen worked for Gould, and entertained his sister Elizabeth with wild tales.
“Several summers ago a whale calf beached itself in an estuary. Mr Gould shocked all the taxidermists of London by dissecting the rotting carcass right where it lay, in front of a crowd. His assistant claimed he took a coach back to his rooms with rings from the whale’s aorta slung around his neck like horse-yokes.”
Eww again!
Elizabeth meets John, who comes across as a wonderful fellow—intelligent, handsome, kind—but completely fixated on whatever his current project is. He is also one of those people who imagines those around him will be equally dedicated, which can be charming but exasperating to family and friends.
It’s a painstaking, time-consuming passion—hunting, classifying, preparing and stuffing animals. There is considerable detail about how the meat is removed from an animal and the skin preserved for taxidermy. There is also a bit about how bones are separated and packed in a box to be sent around the world with instructions about how to recreate the skeleton.
It’s obviously the only way one would ship a dinosaur, and after all, they’re just big birds, so it makes sense, doesn’t it?
Back to the story. They fall in love, marry and when he discovers Elizabeth’s sketches show serious artistic talent, he pounces on her to learn more and begin illustrating his bird books. He also pounces on her literally, producing 8 children, 6 of whom survive. They seem happy enough, but she has a hard time meeting the deadlines for illustrations to go in the next publications.
Painting has its own challenges, whether it’s grinding metals, such as gold and copper, to dust to add sheen, or using special colours.
“For the yellow I used an Indian pigment made by feeding Brahmin cows the leaves of mango trees, then intensifying the colour of the animal’s urine by adding chemicals.”
Note, that she didn’t do that mixing, but when a toddler son piddles on the floor, she says:
“If I had a dropper, I could have siphoned it up, I thought. The strawcoloured liquid was a highly effective fixative for grinding pigment, and boys’ urine was still sold by art suppliers for such a purpose – with a different name, of course.”
Eww!
They meet with Charles Darwin and other scientists, but it’s their young artist friend, Edward Lear (he of the Owl and the Pussycat and other nonsense rhymes and limericks), who is the greatest help and ally to Elizabeth.
“Rather than making things easier, our success had made everyone’s workload heavier as we raced to meet our subscribers’ demands. To ease the tension, Lear drew caricatures of my husband and composed riddles that made me splutter with laughter. Of course I knew that John worked twice as hard as any one of us, but sometimes in his single-minded obsession to complete a project he forgot that we were not all able to work from dusk until dawn as he did.”
John wears Lear down so that he’s ready to leave London. Then to top it off (after six pregnancies and countless late nights drawing), John carts her off to Australia for two years to research, stuff and draw the birdlife. Their seven-year old son goes, too, while the other three tots stay home with granny in England. She is persuaded, because her brother Charles (who introduced them) and her brother Stephen have both settled in the colony.
I cannot imagine how terrifying that would be, no matter how intellectually stimulating the reason for going. News and letters took months to travel on ships, and children succumbed to many childhood diseases we don’t face today. We are spoiled with instant messages and video chats.
But to be fair, the voyage around the world certainly was stimulating. They lived in Hobart, “Hobarton”, where they became friends with the Governor of Van Dieman’s Land, Sir John Franklin and his wife Lady Jane, who comes across as a real character, wearing men’s workboots to hike around and work outdoors. The Goulds even name a subsequent child for them, Franklin.
There are harrowing stories of the sea voyage and various tragedies, but there are some delightful ones about finding and drawing the birds in their natural habitat. I liked the one about the bowerbird, and the author has chosen one of Gould's illustrations to feature on her own website.
This is a wonderful account of a woman ground down by the difficulties of life in the early 1800s and the demands of her career and family. It is also a great depiction in general of London and Australia at that time, when so many people lived such hard, short lives.
Interestingly, there was then a real appreciation for the natural world, art, science, and culture. It’s a pity that, although life is easier for many people today, we don't appear to hold those things in such high regard.
Thanks to NetGalley and Simon and Schuster (Affirm Press) for a preview copy from which I’ve quoted.
Extensive author’s notes here:
http://www.textjournal.com.au/oct13/a...
Wikipedia about Elizabeth Gould:
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Elizabe...
A few illustrations
http://vintagebookillustrations.com/?...
Edward Lear
https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/2...
Most enjoyable. (Don't be put off by the ew! remarks.) A wonderfully detailed, and obviously well-researched fictional autobiography of Elizabeth Gould. In her Author’s Note, Ashley says:
“Virginia Woolf observed that ‘Women have served all these centuries as looking glasses possessing the magic and delicious power of reflecting the figure of a man at twice its natural size.’”
In the early 1800s, when John Gould was establishing himself as a zoologist and taxidermist, taxidermy had become something of a popular do-it-yourself craft.
“In penny shops you could purchase a pamphlet with precise instructions on how to stuff a bird or vole or ferret, to preserve a sea sponge or cut and polish a beach-combed fossil . . . There were recipes for cooking a batch of arsenical soap over the fire and for pot-stirring a mound of gum Arabic and candy sugar into fixing glue. Windowsills and hearths were suggested as niches for drying.”
Eww!
And we think we're clever, collecting rocks and shells, eh? Actually, these days we’re not supposed to take things from beaches and national parks, but I digress.
Charles Coxen worked for Gould, and entertained his sister Elizabeth with wild tales.
“Several summers ago a whale calf beached itself in an estuary. Mr Gould shocked all the taxidermists of London by dissecting the rotting carcass right where it lay, in front of a crowd. His assistant claimed he took a coach back to his rooms with rings from the whale’s aorta slung around his neck like horse-yokes.”
Eww again!
Elizabeth meets John, who comes across as a wonderful fellow—intelligent, handsome, kind—but completely fixated on whatever his current project is. He is also one of those people who imagines those around him will be equally dedicated, which can be charming but exasperating to family and friends.
It’s a painstaking, time-consuming passion—hunting, classifying, preparing and stuffing animals. There is considerable detail about how the meat is removed from an animal and the skin preserved for taxidermy. There is also a bit about how bones are separated and packed in a box to be sent around the world with instructions about how to recreate the skeleton.
It’s obviously the only way one would ship a dinosaur, and after all, they’re just big birds, so it makes sense, doesn’t it?
Back to the story. They fall in love, marry and when he discovers Elizabeth’s sketches show serious artistic talent, he pounces on her to learn more and begin illustrating his bird books. He also pounces on her literally, producing 8 children, 6 of whom survive. They seem happy enough, but she has a hard time meeting the deadlines for illustrations to go in the next publications.
Painting has its own challenges, whether it’s grinding metals, such as gold and copper, to dust to add sheen, or using special colours.
“For the yellow I used an Indian pigment made by feeding Brahmin cows the leaves of mango trees, then intensifying the colour of the animal’s urine by adding chemicals.”
Note, that she didn’t do that mixing, but when a toddler son piddles on the floor, she says:
“If I had a dropper, I could have siphoned it up, I thought. The strawcoloured liquid was a highly effective fixative for grinding pigment, and boys’ urine was still sold by art suppliers for such a purpose – with a different name, of course.”
Eww!
They meet with Charles Darwin and other scientists, but it’s their young artist friend, Edward Lear (he of the Owl and the Pussycat and other nonsense rhymes and limericks), who is the greatest help and ally to Elizabeth.
“Rather than making things easier, our success had made everyone’s workload heavier as we raced to meet our subscribers’ demands. To ease the tension, Lear drew caricatures of my husband and composed riddles that made me splutter with laughter. Of course I knew that John worked twice as hard as any one of us, but sometimes in his single-minded obsession to complete a project he forgot that we were not all able to work from dusk until dawn as he did.”
John wears Lear down so that he’s ready to leave London. Then to top it off (after six pregnancies and countless late nights drawing), John carts her off to Australia for two years to research, stuff and draw the birdlife. Their seven-year old son goes, too, while the other three tots stay home with granny in England. She is persuaded, because her brother Charles (who introduced them) and her brother Stephen have both settled in the colony.
I cannot imagine how terrifying that would be, no matter how intellectually stimulating the reason for going. News and letters took months to travel on ships, and children succumbed to many childhood diseases we don’t face today. We are spoiled with instant messages and video chats.
But to be fair, the voyage around the world certainly was stimulating. They lived in Hobart, “Hobarton”, where they became friends with the Governor of Van Dieman’s Land, Sir John Franklin and his wife Lady Jane, who comes across as a real character, wearing men’s workboots to hike around and work outdoors. The Goulds even name a subsequent child for them, Franklin.
There are harrowing stories of the sea voyage and various tragedies, but there are some delightful ones about finding and drawing the birds in their natural habitat. I liked the one about the bowerbird, and the author has chosen one of Gould's illustrations to feature on her own website.
This is a wonderful account of a woman ground down by the difficulties of life in the early 1800s and the demands of her career and family. It is also a great depiction in general of London and Australia at that time, when so many people lived such hard, short lives.
Interestingly, there was then a real appreciation for the natural world, art, science, and culture. It’s a pity that, although life is easier for many people today, we don't appear to hold those things in such high regard.
Thanks to NetGalley and Simon and Schuster (Affirm Press) for a preview copy from which I’ve quoted.
Extensive author’s notes here:
http://www.textjournal.com.au/oct13/a...
Wikipedia about Elizabeth Gould:
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Elizabe...
A few illustrations
http://vintagebookillustrations.com/?...
Edward Lear
https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/2...
June 24, 2024
Growing up in Australia, I have always been aware of John Gould's beautiful illustrations of Australian birds from the early days of white settlement in the 1800s. It wasn't until reading this book that I learnt that although Gould was a highly esteemed ornithologist and scientist, it was wife, Elizabeth, and other artists who drew and coloured the beautifully detailed drawings that accompanied his descriptions.
Elizabeth Gould was indeed an interesting woman and Melissa Ashley has obviously spent a great deal of time and effort finding out as much as she could about Elizabeth's life from the scant traces that are left in libraries and museums. After meeting John Gould through her brother, a taxidermist, Elizabeth went on to marry him and employ her amateur artistic skills to become an accomplished wildlife illustrator. She travelled to Australia with him, leaving three of her young children at home for two years, to help him with collecting and documenting the unique birds and wildlife to be found there. She truly helped to make John Gould a famous name to bird lovers.
While I found the story of Elizabeth fascinating and think the author has highlighted the need for her to be recognised as a pioneer in wildlife illustration, I did find the book a bit too detailed at times. The descriptions of the shooting and collecting of the birds, the preparation for stuffing, the description of anatomical details and the process involved in illustrating the birds did become somewhat repetitive and could have been trimmed back in many places. Perhaps this reflects that this novel arose from a PhD thesis where there was a scholarly focus on the preparation of the birds and the processes involved in carrying out the illustrations, but for a novel I would have expected a strong focus on the main character rather than the birds.
However, I am not a bird watcher and don't have a scientific interest in them, so it may be that those who do, will enjoy those details of the book much more. I do love the cover of the book as well as some of Elizabeth's drawings included at the end of the novel. I would recommend this book to bird lovers and also to those who enjoy reading historical accounts of interesting women who were often relegated to second place behind their husband's fame.
With thanks to Netgalley and the publisher Simon & Schuster for a digital copy of the book to read and review
Elizabeth Gould was indeed an interesting woman and Melissa Ashley has obviously spent a great deal of time and effort finding out as much as she could about Elizabeth's life from the scant traces that are left in libraries and museums. After meeting John Gould through her brother, a taxidermist, Elizabeth went on to marry him and employ her amateur artistic skills to become an accomplished wildlife illustrator. She travelled to Australia with him, leaving three of her young children at home for two years, to help him with collecting and documenting the unique birds and wildlife to be found there. She truly helped to make John Gould a famous name to bird lovers.
While I found the story of Elizabeth fascinating and think the author has highlighted the need for her to be recognised as a pioneer in wildlife illustration, I did find the book a bit too detailed at times. The descriptions of the shooting and collecting of the birds, the preparation for stuffing, the description of anatomical details and the process involved in illustrating the birds did become somewhat repetitive and could have been trimmed back in many places. Perhaps this reflects that this novel arose from a PhD thesis where there was a scholarly focus on the preparation of the birds and the processes involved in carrying out the illustrations, but for a novel I would have expected a strong focus on the main character rather than the birds.
However, I am not a bird watcher and don't have a scientific interest in them, so it may be that those who do, will enjoy those details of the book much more. I do love the cover of the book as well as some of Elizabeth's drawings included at the end of the novel. I would recommend this book to bird lovers and also to those who enjoy reading historical accounts of interesting women who were often relegated to second place behind their husband's fame.
With thanks to Netgalley and the publisher Simon & Schuster for a digital copy of the book to read and review
November 8, 2017
I’m in the tiniest of minorities regarding The Birdman’s Wife by Melissa Ashley.
I didn’t like it.
There was too much of what irritates me about (some) historical fiction. Specifically:
1. Info dumping – yeah, the research has been done down to the tiniest detail. But please don’t remind me of those details over and over again. And please don’t tell me every single detail you discovered about the time period you’re writing about.
The puddle on the living-room floor shimmered like glass and without warning Henry ran through it, his footprints shining on the floorboards. If I had a dropper, I could have siphoned it up, I thought. The straw-coloured liquid was a highly effective fixative for grinding pigment, and boys’ urine was still sold by art suppliers for such a purpose…
‘The Governor relished our discussion about the scientific curiosities of the settlement. I think I provided a welcome break from his administrative challenges, from the threats of the English Parliament to put a stop to the transportation of prisoners to New South Wales. Sir John fears all convicts will be sent to Van Dieman’s land, turning it into a dumping ground. Apparently the resources here, what with the drought in New South Wales, are stretched to breaking point.’
2. Awkward dialogue – you know in soap operas how the script writers deliberately repeat details so that new viewers can pick up the storyline? For example, instead of someone walking into a room and saying, “How are you?”, they say “Hello Brooke, how was your day after your confrontation with Ridge? Is he furious about you betraying him with Eric?” It makes dialogue so clumsy and unnatural.
‘The final work seems well worth the sacrifice,’ Mr Darwin pronounced, tapping a neatly-clipped fingernail on his chin. ‘I’d be glad to see one of these magnificent creatures alive.’
‘I agree. Many a time I dreamed of the quetzal coming to life, particularly when I began to paint its sublime feathers. I’m flattered you think I’ve captured the essence in some way.’
3. It’s the ‘olden days’, let’s make the language flowery – a tough one because some authors pull off period language superbly but if it’s not done well, it’s painful.
…Reverend Ewing insisted there was no time to tarry. The hour nigh for hunting, we made haste disembarking the wagon…
…promenaded the banks of the Derwent, gazing into the tempestuous sky stretched over the sapphire harbour.
2/5 Sorry fans….
I received my copy of The Birdman’s Wife from the publisher, Simon & Schuster, via NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.
I didn’t like it.
There was too much of what irritates me about (some) historical fiction. Specifically:
1. Info dumping – yeah, the research has been done down to the tiniest detail. But please don’t remind me of those details over and over again. And please don’t tell me every single detail you discovered about the time period you’re writing about.
The puddle on the living-room floor shimmered like glass and without warning Henry ran through it, his footprints shining on the floorboards. If I had a dropper, I could have siphoned it up, I thought. The straw-coloured liquid was a highly effective fixative for grinding pigment, and boys’ urine was still sold by art suppliers for such a purpose…
‘The Governor relished our discussion about the scientific curiosities of the settlement. I think I provided a welcome break from his administrative challenges, from the threats of the English Parliament to put a stop to the transportation of prisoners to New South Wales. Sir John fears all convicts will be sent to Van Dieman’s land, turning it into a dumping ground. Apparently the resources here, what with the drought in New South Wales, are stretched to breaking point.’
2. Awkward dialogue – you know in soap operas how the script writers deliberately repeat details so that new viewers can pick up the storyline? For example, instead of someone walking into a room and saying, “How are you?”, they say “Hello Brooke, how was your day after your confrontation with Ridge? Is he furious about you betraying him with Eric?” It makes dialogue so clumsy and unnatural.
‘The final work seems well worth the sacrifice,’ Mr Darwin pronounced, tapping a neatly-clipped fingernail on his chin. ‘I’d be glad to see one of these magnificent creatures alive.’
‘I agree. Many a time I dreamed of the quetzal coming to life, particularly when I began to paint its sublime feathers. I’m flattered you think I’ve captured the essence in some way.’
3. It’s the ‘olden days’, let’s make the language flowery – a tough one because some authors pull off period language superbly but if it’s not done well, it’s painful.
…Reverend Ewing insisted there was no time to tarry. The hour nigh for hunting, we made haste disembarking the wagon…
…promenaded the banks of the Derwent, gazing into the tempestuous sky stretched over the sapphire harbour.
2/5 Sorry fans….
I received my copy of The Birdman’s Wife from the publisher, Simon & Schuster, via NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.
September 22, 2016
It was the 1800s and Elizabeth Gould started off working alongside her brother Charles, illustrating the many exotic birds where he worked. There she met her husband John, a zoologist and over time became prolific in her illustrations. They worked together during which time Elizabeth eventually gave birth to eight children. Her juggling of the intricacies of the job as well as her family life, plus the support she gave her passionate and dedicated husband meant she was constantly busy...
The Birdman’s Wife by Aussie author Melissa Ashley started off well; thoroughly researched with meticulous detail – but I found the descriptions tedious after a while. For lovers of bird life, taxidermy – the dead and the stuffed animals – it would be intensely interesting. But I found the pace of the novel very slow and was extremely disappointed; I did a lot of skimming I'm afraid – I have to say it wasn’t for me. I absolutely love the cover though!
With thanks to NetGalley and Simon & Schuster for this copy to read in exchange for my honest review.
The Birdman’s Wife by Aussie author Melissa Ashley started off well; thoroughly researched with meticulous detail – but I found the descriptions tedious after a while. For lovers of bird life, taxidermy – the dead and the stuffed animals – it would be intensely interesting. But I found the pace of the novel very slow and was extremely disappointed; I did a lot of skimming I'm afraid – I have to say it wasn’t for me. I absolutely love the cover though!
With thanks to NetGalley and Simon & Schuster for this copy to read in exchange for my honest review.
September 22, 2016
I requested this title not knowing what to expect. It turns out to be faction novel based on the life of nature artist Elizabeth Gould, and told in her own voice. Elizabeth was married to British ornithologist John Gould, and produced hundreds of scientific illustrations for his works, most of which were birds. This novel is not only thick but dense with detail, so don't start it if you're not committed. Having said that, here are all my reasons for ranking it 5 stars.
1) The cameo appearances from other famous historical figures of their time are great fun. There's Edward Lear, shown as a clever, talented young man with a flair for the comical, and Charles Darwin, a celebrated scientist recently returned from his collecting expedition on the HMS Beagle. He inspires John to want to embark on their own, once in a lifetime Australian expedition. There's Sir John Franklin, the governor of Tasmania, and his powerful and scientific wife Lady Jane, who even leads expeditions of discovery.
2) Elizabeth's voice always comes across like that of a nineteenth century woman. She notices the things they'd notice, and doesn't notice things a more modern woman might. This shows how deeply immersed in her character the twenty-first century author must have been while writing it.
3) The husband/wife partnership is interesting to read, and their essential character differences are highlighted. John is depicted with a good natured manner, yet he's still a driven fanatic, and taxing task master to his staff of helpers, including his wife. Elizabeth is kind hearted and endlessly grapples with guilt about having to kill birds and animals in the name of science. 'Few creatures were spared my husband's ambition.' She also admits that even though she's a woman of science, she still enjoys what she calls the 'myths of unenlightened men' including stories, legends, folklore and symbols.
4) It's good to learn the difficulties and expenses nineteenth century artists faced, so we can give them the respect they deserve. Elizabeth used all sorts of rare and wonderful ingredients to make her palette mixes accurate, including the imported urine of Brahmin cows which had been fed special mango leaves. Seriously!
5) The pages of notes by Melissa Ashley at the end shows how this project became her consuming passion. She was already an avid birder, but set herself the task of learning the different, complex art techniques and lithography, to help bring Elizabeth's voice to life. She even became a volunteer trainee taxidermist, to add authenticity. That's commitment!
6) I recorded heaps of quotes, but will choose to share just this one, about our passions and how the things we spend our days doing end up becoming our identity. Elizabeth said, 'I painted, I studied, and in this constant striving, became me.' Although she died sadly young, it can be argued that she'd lived a fuller life than many ladies in their eighties or nineties. Also, I've got to appreciate the way Melissa Ashley gave a voice to this remarkable lady whose name had been eclipsed by her husband's fame for over a century.
7) One of my favourite features of this book is that it helped cure my own wanderlust and discontentment. The Goulds sacrificed so much to travel to Australia, a journey many thought they were mad to undertake. Elizabeth's maternal heartstrings were torn when she had to leave her three younger children with relatives for two years, since the gruelling voyage would likely have proven too taxing for them. Yet when they arrived in Australia, their wonder and delight with the flora and fauna which is so familiar to me is described brilliantly. Nowhere else in the world is like it, and I don't have to go through all they did to appreciate it, since I'm already down here.
The chapters in the story are all named after the different birds that surround me each day. Superb fairy wrens, sulphur crested cockatoos, red wattlebirds, willy wagtails, honey eaters, zebra finches, Major Mitchell cockatoos, just to name a few. There's some touching reminders that the nation must remain poles apart from the rest of the world. On the way back, the Goulds' healthy specimens perished in transit, including kangaroos, wombats, koalas and possums, as well as birds. Once again, what a wonderful ecosystem we Aussies get to enjoy. I wouldn't have expected a novel named 'The Birdman's Wife' to give my patriotism a boost, but that's just what it did.
Thanks to Simon and Schuster (Australia) and NetGalley for my review copy.
Find more reviews on my blog, http://vincereview.blogspot.com.au/
1) The cameo appearances from other famous historical figures of their time are great fun. There's Edward Lear, shown as a clever, talented young man with a flair for the comical, and Charles Darwin, a celebrated scientist recently returned from his collecting expedition on the HMS Beagle. He inspires John to want to embark on their own, once in a lifetime Australian expedition. There's Sir John Franklin, the governor of Tasmania, and his powerful and scientific wife Lady Jane, who even leads expeditions of discovery.
2) Elizabeth's voice always comes across like that of a nineteenth century woman. She notices the things they'd notice, and doesn't notice things a more modern woman might. This shows how deeply immersed in her character the twenty-first century author must have been while writing it.
3) The husband/wife partnership is interesting to read, and their essential character differences are highlighted. John is depicted with a good natured manner, yet he's still a driven fanatic, and taxing task master to his staff of helpers, including his wife. Elizabeth is kind hearted and endlessly grapples with guilt about having to kill birds and animals in the name of science. 'Few creatures were spared my husband's ambition.' She also admits that even though she's a woman of science, she still enjoys what she calls the 'myths of unenlightened men' including stories, legends, folklore and symbols.
4) It's good to learn the difficulties and expenses nineteenth century artists faced, so we can give them the respect they deserve. Elizabeth used all sorts of rare and wonderful ingredients to make her palette mixes accurate, including the imported urine of Brahmin cows which had been fed special mango leaves. Seriously!
5) The pages of notes by Melissa Ashley at the end shows how this project became her consuming passion. She was already an avid birder, but set herself the task of learning the different, complex art techniques and lithography, to help bring Elizabeth's voice to life. She even became a volunteer trainee taxidermist, to add authenticity. That's commitment!
6) I recorded heaps of quotes, but will choose to share just this one, about our passions and how the things we spend our days doing end up becoming our identity. Elizabeth said, 'I painted, I studied, and in this constant striving, became me.' Although she died sadly young, it can be argued that she'd lived a fuller life than many ladies in their eighties or nineties. Also, I've got to appreciate the way Melissa Ashley gave a voice to this remarkable lady whose name had been eclipsed by her husband's fame for over a century.
7) One of my favourite features of this book is that it helped cure my own wanderlust and discontentment. The Goulds sacrificed so much to travel to Australia, a journey many thought they were mad to undertake. Elizabeth's maternal heartstrings were torn when she had to leave her three younger children with relatives for two years, since the gruelling voyage would likely have proven too taxing for them. Yet when they arrived in Australia, their wonder and delight with the flora and fauna which is so familiar to me is described brilliantly. Nowhere else in the world is like it, and I don't have to go through all they did to appreciate it, since I'm already down here.
The chapters in the story are all named after the different birds that surround me each day. Superb fairy wrens, sulphur crested cockatoos, red wattlebirds, willy wagtails, honey eaters, zebra finches, Major Mitchell cockatoos, just to name a few. There's some touching reminders that the nation must remain poles apart from the rest of the world. On the way back, the Goulds' healthy specimens perished in transit, including kangaroos, wombats, koalas and possums, as well as birds. Once again, what a wonderful ecosystem we Aussies get to enjoy. I wouldn't have expected a novel named 'The Birdman's Wife' to give my patriotism a boost, but that's just what it did.
Thanks to Simon and Schuster (Australia) and NetGalley for my review copy.
Find more reviews on my blog, http://vincereview.blogspot.com.au/
May 3, 2017
I wanted to like this novel with its gorgeous cover and superb design, but contrary to my expectations, I made rather heavy weather of The Birdman’s Wife. It’s been shortlisted for the General Fiction Book of the Year in the ABIA awards, it sounded rather interesting, and it’s had good reviews, but…
The Birdman’s Wife is written in a genre that I’ve christened Rescue-A-Woman-From-Oblivion. These women have larger-than-life husbands whose fame so overwhelms them that we know next to nothing about them. Germaine Greer did it best with Shakespeare’s Wife (see my review) and Glenda Korporaal did it not quite so successfully with Making Magic, the Marion Mahoney Griffin Story (see my review). It’s a difficult task for an author to undertake because, by definition, these women whose lives were overshadowed by their husbands have very little presence in the historical record.
Well, Melissa Ashley became fascinated by the wife of the famous ornithologist John Gould, and despite the frustrations of disappointing archives, her PhD became this novel, the fictionalised life of Elizabeth Gould, one of the artists who illustrated his magnificent monographs about birds of the world.
But IMO it’s much too long. It’s nearly 400 pages and a lot of it is repetitive. Yes, we learn about how Elizabeth Gould met and fell in love with John Gould, and how she mastered the skills to illustrate his wonderful books about birds. We learn about her growing family, the historically significant people that she meets, the death of two of her children, her anguish about leaving her children to travel with Gould to Australia, and her experiences in Hobart and country NSW in the late 1830s.
But there’s an awful lot about killing birds, the disgusting business of eviscerating them, stuffing them and stitching them back together again, arranging them in cabinets and finally painting them. We hear about the mess, and the smell, and we hear about it a lot. There’s a fair bit about childbirth as well, for each of the eight children that Elizabeth bore. Yes, there’s a great deal of detail about a woman who only lived to be 37, and IMO at times the temptation to include all the PhD research and the author’s experiences as a volunteer taxidermist should have been resisted.
To read the rest of my review please visit https://anzlitlovers.com/2017/05/04/t...
The Birdman’s Wife is written in a genre that I’ve christened Rescue-A-Woman-From-Oblivion. These women have larger-than-life husbands whose fame so overwhelms them that we know next to nothing about them. Germaine Greer did it best with Shakespeare’s Wife (see my review) and Glenda Korporaal did it not quite so successfully with Making Magic, the Marion Mahoney Griffin Story (see my review). It’s a difficult task for an author to undertake because, by definition, these women whose lives were overshadowed by their husbands have very little presence in the historical record.
Well, Melissa Ashley became fascinated by the wife of the famous ornithologist John Gould, and despite the frustrations of disappointing archives, her PhD became this novel, the fictionalised life of Elizabeth Gould, one of the artists who illustrated his magnificent monographs about birds of the world.
But IMO it’s much too long. It’s nearly 400 pages and a lot of it is repetitive. Yes, we learn about how Elizabeth Gould met and fell in love with John Gould, and how she mastered the skills to illustrate his wonderful books about birds. We learn about her growing family, the historically significant people that she meets, the death of two of her children, her anguish about leaving her children to travel with Gould to Australia, and her experiences in Hobart and country NSW in the late 1830s.
But there’s an awful lot about killing birds, the disgusting business of eviscerating them, stuffing them and stitching them back together again, arranging them in cabinets and finally painting them. We hear about the mess, and the smell, and we hear about it a lot. There’s a fair bit about childbirth as well, for each of the eight children that Elizabeth bore. Yes, there’s a great deal of detail about a woman who only lived to be 37, and IMO at times the temptation to include all the PhD research and the author’s experiences as a volunteer taxidermist should have been resisted.
To read the rest of my review please visit https://anzlitlovers.com/2017/05/04/t...
October 11, 2019
*https://mrsbbookreviews.wordpress.com
4.5 stars
The life and times of Elizabeth Gould, wife of John Gould, the famed English ornithologist, is immortalised in The Birdman’s Wife. John Gould is known as the ‘father of bird study’ and his published monographs on birds helped him to be included in Charles Darwin’s Origins of the Species. The history books tell us that John Gould was a revolutionary figure in the field of bird study and that he was assisted by his wife, along with decorated artists, such as Edward Lear. Melissa Ashley’s The Birdman’s Wife suggests that Elizabeth Gould had a much larger role in her husband’s career. The Birdman’s Wife resurrects the life of the Goulds, with special attention directed to Elizabeth Gould, in this meticulously researched fictional biography.
Elizabeth Gould was a trailblazer in the art world. She catalogued many different varieties of birds during her career. Elizabeth’s eye for detail and her specialist knowledge of the bird species saw her illustrations beamed across the world. This little known historical figure was a pioneer, but she has been overshadowed by her famous husband. In this fictional biography, Melissa Ashley has breathed new life into Elizabeth Gould. The Birdman’s Wife works hard to develop a sense of respect for this adventurous woman, and all she was able to achieve in her thirty seven years. Through this impassioned tale, what becomes clear is the internal conflict Elizabeth faced as a dedicated wife, devoted mother, talented artist and lover of the natural world. When Elizabeth’s world is opened to new possibilities, Elizabeth is tormented by her love for her work and her responsibilities as a mother. The Birdman’s Wife is a story of love, family, drive, ambition, exploration, discovery and achievement.
The Birdman’s Wife is a 2016 Affirm Press publication. This book was a natural progression from author Melissa Ashley’s previous research in this field. Inspired, passionate, poignant, informative and compelling, The Birdman’s Wife is an essential text for bird lovers, illustrators and historical fiction fans. It also provided the perfect choice for the book bingo 2019 category, ‘fictional biography about a woman from history.’
Fictional biographies are one of my favourite genres. The Birdman’s Wife by Melissa Ashley is a beautiful re-imagining of the life of Elizabeth Gould. Melissa Ashley works hard to raise Elizabeth to the public sphere, through this highly readable novel. From the very beginning of the novel we are made aware of Elizabeth’s creative abilities, ambitions and interests. It is clear that Elizabeth is no ordinary woman, and she is obviously destined for great things. Elizabeth’s passion for art, and capturing the natural world with her observant lens is infectious. Although I am not personally an artist, it is impossible not to feel a sense of admiration and inspiration from learning about Elizabeth Gould.
Ashley perfectly encapsulates the gentle love affair that develops between Elizabeth and her husband, with a strong touch of authenticity. This is a love, marriage and partnership that weathered a great deal. The Goulds experienced loss, ambition, exploration and death over the course of their lives. Ashley’s account of the union between Elizabeth and John will be sure to make your heart both beat and break.
The Birdman’s Wife is a finely researched novel and it is obvious that Ashley has devoted plenty of time to upholding the integrity of this novel. I was taken aback by the sheer level of detail and information in this book, from the scientific facts, artwork, taxidermy, zoology references and the very specialist work of ornithology. Many of the factual elements of this text are illuminated by plenty of descriptive pages that work to fully immerse the reader in the world of this important historical figure. The eight page Author’s Note, Acknowledgements and Guide to the Endpapers Images should not be overlooked.
What I found most interesting and relatable was the torment Elizabeth experienced as a mother, when an opportunity arises to undertake a groundbreaking trip to Australia. It is a trip that Elizabeth wrestles with, but eventually she accepts, leaving England’s shores for the untouched lands of Australia. This tumultuous trip is marked by both discovery and internal pain. Elizabeth experiences a great deal of conflict between capturing animals for the purposes of science, and her inherent need to set them free. It is a predicament that torments Elizabeth and it will be sure to upset the reader too.
A final word on the physical appearance of the book. I really looked forward to start of each chapter, which was headed by a different bird type. Most were familiar to me, but the odd new species added to my working knowledge of the bird world. The Birdman’s Wife is presented in hardback form, with a stunning wren, one of favourite birds and a gold embossed title. The end papers are just so exquisite, adorned with the actual illustrations by Gould. The presence of Elizabeth’s stunning artwork in the text reminds us of the legacy left behind by this talented figure.
The Birdman’s Wife is a very personalised story, with Elizabeth Gould, a neglected figure from our past, at the centre of the narration. During the course of The Birdman’s Wife, we learn of Elizabeth’s deepest hopes, fears and her eventual parting from the world. This is truly a remarkable life, that is supported by the sensitive and delicate hands of Melissa Ashley.
The Birdman’s Wife is book #127 of the 2019 Australian Women Writers Challenge
4.5 stars
The life and times of Elizabeth Gould, wife of John Gould, the famed English ornithologist, is immortalised in The Birdman’s Wife. John Gould is known as the ‘father of bird study’ and his published monographs on birds helped him to be included in Charles Darwin’s Origins of the Species. The history books tell us that John Gould was a revolutionary figure in the field of bird study and that he was assisted by his wife, along with decorated artists, such as Edward Lear. Melissa Ashley’s The Birdman’s Wife suggests that Elizabeth Gould had a much larger role in her husband’s career. The Birdman’s Wife resurrects the life of the Goulds, with special attention directed to Elizabeth Gould, in this meticulously researched fictional biography.
Elizabeth Gould was a trailblazer in the art world. She catalogued many different varieties of birds during her career. Elizabeth’s eye for detail and her specialist knowledge of the bird species saw her illustrations beamed across the world. This little known historical figure was a pioneer, but she has been overshadowed by her famous husband. In this fictional biography, Melissa Ashley has breathed new life into Elizabeth Gould. The Birdman’s Wife works hard to develop a sense of respect for this adventurous woman, and all she was able to achieve in her thirty seven years. Through this impassioned tale, what becomes clear is the internal conflict Elizabeth faced as a dedicated wife, devoted mother, talented artist and lover of the natural world. When Elizabeth’s world is opened to new possibilities, Elizabeth is tormented by her love for her work and her responsibilities as a mother. The Birdman’s Wife is a story of love, family, drive, ambition, exploration, discovery and achievement.
The Birdman’s Wife is a 2016 Affirm Press publication. This book was a natural progression from author Melissa Ashley’s previous research in this field. Inspired, passionate, poignant, informative and compelling, The Birdman’s Wife is an essential text for bird lovers, illustrators and historical fiction fans. It also provided the perfect choice for the book bingo 2019 category, ‘fictional biography about a woman from history.’
Fictional biographies are one of my favourite genres. The Birdman’s Wife by Melissa Ashley is a beautiful re-imagining of the life of Elizabeth Gould. Melissa Ashley works hard to raise Elizabeth to the public sphere, through this highly readable novel. From the very beginning of the novel we are made aware of Elizabeth’s creative abilities, ambitions and interests. It is clear that Elizabeth is no ordinary woman, and she is obviously destined for great things. Elizabeth’s passion for art, and capturing the natural world with her observant lens is infectious. Although I am not personally an artist, it is impossible not to feel a sense of admiration and inspiration from learning about Elizabeth Gould.
Ashley perfectly encapsulates the gentle love affair that develops between Elizabeth and her husband, with a strong touch of authenticity. This is a love, marriage and partnership that weathered a great deal. The Goulds experienced loss, ambition, exploration and death over the course of their lives. Ashley’s account of the union between Elizabeth and John will be sure to make your heart both beat and break.
The Birdman’s Wife is a finely researched novel and it is obvious that Ashley has devoted plenty of time to upholding the integrity of this novel. I was taken aback by the sheer level of detail and information in this book, from the scientific facts, artwork, taxidermy, zoology references and the very specialist work of ornithology. Many of the factual elements of this text are illuminated by plenty of descriptive pages that work to fully immerse the reader in the world of this important historical figure. The eight page Author’s Note, Acknowledgements and Guide to the Endpapers Images should not be overlooked.
What I found most interesting and relatable was the torment Elizabeth experienced as a mother, when an opportunity arises to undertake a groundbreaking trip to Australia. It is a trip that Elizabeth wrestles with, but eventually she accepts, leaving England’s shores for the untouched lands of Australia. This tumultuous trip is marked by both discovery and internal pain. Elizabeth experiences a great deal of conflict between capturing animals for the purposes of science, and her inherent need to set them free. It is a predicament that torments Elizabeth and it will be sure to upset the reader too.
A final word on the physical appearance of the book. I really looked forward to start of each chapter, which was headed by a different bird type. Most were familiar to me, but the odd new species added to my working knowledge of the bird world. The Birdman’s Wife is presented in hardback form, with a stunning wren, one of favourite birds and a gold embossed title. The end papers are just so exquisite, adorned with the actual illustrations by Gould. The presence of Elizabeth’s stunning artwork in the text reminds us of the legacy left behind by this talented figure.
The Birdman’s Wife is a very personalised story, with Elizabeth Gould, a neglected figure from our past, at the centre of the narration. During the course of The Birdman’s Wife, we learn of Elizabeth’s deepest hopes, fears and her eventual parting from the world. This is truly a remarkable life, that is supported by the sensitive and delicate hands of Melissa Ashley.
The Birdman’s Wife is book #127 of the 2019 Australian Women Writers Challenge
July 8, 2016
Four and a half stars.
Impeccably researched reimagining of Elizabeth Gould's role as illustrator for John Gould's ornithological works, from the taxonomic detail to the excitement of an age when natural history was all the rage. Australia's place in this story - and our birds - are particularly vivid on the page.
Impeccably researched reimagining of Elizabeth Gould's role as illustrator for John Gould's ornithological works, from the taxonomic detail to the excitement of an age when natural history was all the rage. Australia's place in this story - and our birds - are particularly vivid on the page.
February 7, 2017
This novel is an amazing feat and an incredible example of how a deeply passionate interest and a yearning for detailed research can enable the writer to provide the reader with such insight about Elizabeth Gould, a woman who contributed so much to ornithology, zoology and art in its most detailed form. Thank you to Melissa Ashley for writing this wonderful novel about Elizabeth Gould, the wife of birdman John Gould. Reading about the expeditions, adventures, travel and especially her amazing 'partnership' from her perspective was just so damn interesting. Everything about this book exudes excellence, from the cover, the chapter design and the detailed author notes. I found myself wanting to know more about her life and the characters that were also meshed into the story because of the connection she had with them. I loved the descriptions of early Australia, she was a strong woman who showed great endeavour coming out to this country in its infancy and then returning to England.
For those faint of heart the descriptions of taxidermy are detailed and some may find distressing and a bit tough going, Elizabeth was able to draw the most stunning detailed pictures of these creatures and she too empathised and often worried about their fate explained so well in this line "we had taken its life, so I had best ensure that the exchange was not in vain, that at the very least the spendid animal would live on in my drawing" She much preferred and was very proud when she had the opportunity to capture the creature in its own live habitat.
Highly recommend this novel, 4.5⭐️
Highly recommend this novel, 4.5⭐️
October 1, 2018
This book was not for me. I only finished it because it was our book club book. Stuffed birds, or any other animals for that matter, were always appalling to me. So the book did not have a fair chance from the beginning.
Added the detailed description of the process made it only worse.
Obviously the theme was extremely well researched, but I would have preferred the book shorter.
The killing and stuffing of the birds went on for ever and often it felt repetitive.
I could not help asking myself what was the driving source behind John Goul's obsession? Fame, money? Or both?
He came across a a ruthless man, without any feelings to the animals he was collecting, or for his wife and family. Does truly the 'holy' coat of science justify all this?
His wife was truly an artist - her drawings and lithographs a work of art. But even that her husband would not acknowledge. Shameful hypocrite.
Added the detailed description of the process made it only worse.
Obviously the theme was extremely well researched, but I would have preferred the book shorter.
The killing and stuffing of the birds went on for ever and often it felt repetitive.
I could not help asking myself what was the driving source behind John Goul's obsession? Fame, money? Or both?
He came across a a ruthless man, without any feelings to the animals he was collecting, or for his wife and family. Does truly the 'holy' coat of science justify all this?
His wife was truly an artist - her drawings and lithographs a work of art. But even that her husband would not acknowledge. Shameful hypocrite.
October 22, 2016
3.5. First up: this book is such a beautiful object - it's got possibly my favourite cover ever, and the inside pages are just as gorgeous. I'd have picked this up on the strength of the book design alone. Luckily though, it's a good read as well - an impeccably well researched fictionalisation of Elizabeth Gould's life. The largely overlooked wife of ornithologist extraordinaire John Gould is revealed here as an incredible woman - ambitious, talented and brave, taking on situations frowned upon by society and contributing massively to the work that made her husband famous.
There were sections where the book wore its research on its sleeve a little too much - it felt a bit as though Ashley couldn't bare to leave out anything she'd learned about the Gould's, early ornithology and taxidermy. Still, this is a lovely read, especially for bird-obsessed nerds like me.
There were sections where the book wore its research on its sleeve a little too much - it felt a bit as though Ashley couldn't bare to leave out anything she'd learned about the Gould's, early ornithology and taxidermy. Still, this is a lovely read, especially for bird-obsessed nerds like me.
July 13, 2017
This meticulously researched and lushly written novel re-imagines the life of the remarkable Elizabeth Gould, wife and illustrator to bird collector-taxidermist John Gould, and rescues her from the obscurity of being hidden within her husband's fame. This is a laudible project and one that is obviously a labour of great love.
The detailed descriptions of John's collecting and taxidermy and Elizabeth's artwork and lithography were a revelation and the cast of interesting historic figures including Edward Lear, Charles Darwin and Governor and Lady Franklin made for a largely compelling narrative of the Victorian era's overweening obsession with cataloguing and collecting nature in the pursuit of knowledge.
Ashley pays the overlooked and under-documented figure of Elizabeth Gould the respect of assuming her partnership with Gould was a passionate as well as professional one. But her persuasive portrait of Gould is of a man whose obsessiveness turned his wife into an indispensible, overworked accomplice in his monumental projects. Equally persuasive is Gould's denial of her public profile as an artist in her own right and his conventional expectations of her as a Victorian wife and mother. Elizabeth's heartache for her children - both those lost in childbirth and the little ones missed on her two years travels in Australia - is powerfully expressed.
Less convincing - for me at least - were her crises of faith in her husband's slaughter of so many birds for his encyclopaedic collections; while Elizabeth liked to draw birds from life in their natural settings (capturing their typical behaviours for the sake of accuracy) I am sceptical that this amounted to doubts about the excesses of the project (I am happy to be proved wrong!).
While I am an admirer of rich historic detail to make a story vivid and convincing and enjoy poetic description and evocation, I believe this narrative would have benefited from more judicious editing. It is be applauded that Ashley gave herself the licence to mimic the voice and complexity of a 19thc novel but at times passages of over-writing and the slow narrative pace muffled the emotional impact - at least for this reader - particularly in the final chapters after the Goulds' return to London.
The detailed descriptions of John's collecting and taxidermy and Elizabeth's artwork and lithography were a revelation and the cast of interesting historic figures including Edward Lear, Charles Darwin and Governor and Lady Franklin made for a largely compelling narrative of the Victorian era's overweening obsession with cataloguing and collecting nature in the pursuit of knowledge.
Ashley pays the overlooked and under-documented figure of Elizabeth Gould the respect of assuming her partnership with Gould was a passionate as well as professional one. But her persuasive portrait of Gould is of a man whose obsessiveness turned his wife into an indispensible, overworked accomplice in his monumental projects. Equally persuasive is Gould's denial of her public profile as an artist in her own right and his conventional expectations of her as a Victorian wife and mother. Elizabeth's heartache for her children - both those lost in childbirth and the little ones missed on her two years travels in Australia - is powerfully expressed.
Less convincing - for me at least - were her crises of faith in her husband's slaughter of so many birds for his encyclopaedic collections; while Elizabeth liked to draw birds from life in their natural settings (capturing their typical behaviours for the sake of accuracy) I am sceptical that this amounted to doubts about the excesses of the project (I am happy to be proved wrong!).
While I am an admirer of rich historic detail to make a story vivid and convincing and enjoy poetic description and evocation, I believe this narrative would have benefited from more judicious editing. It is be applauded that Ashley gave herself the licence to mimic the voice and complexity of a 19thc novel but at times passages of over-writing and the slow narrative pace muffled the emotional impact - at least for this reader - particularly in the final chapters after the Goulds' return to London.
August 31, 2016
‘And anyhow, I cannot do it without you.’
Elizabeth Coxen was born on 18 July 1804 at Ramsgate in England. In January 1829 she married John Gould, a zoologist. Over a decade, she designed and completed some 650 hand-coloured lithographs of exotic bird species. Elizabeth Gould is commemorated in the name of the Gouldian finch of tropical Australia (Chloebia (Poëphila) gouldiae), but what do we know about this woman? How might her life have been lived during the nineteenth century?
‘Natural history and the associated art of taxidermy were becoming a craze.’
The novel opens with Elizabeth stepping from a carriage in Bruton Street, London in 1828 on her way to meet John Gould. Her brother, Charles, is employed by John Gould and Elizabeth has been invited to undertake some drawing for him. The beginning of what will become a great partnership.
To read this novel is to see the world through Elizabeth’s eyes: to become immersed in her life, to appreciate how she juggled family responsibilities with her artistic work in what was a golden age of natural discovery. In 1838 John and Elizabeth Gould, accompanied by their eldest son and a nephew travelled to Australia to discover the curious birdlife. Their younger children were left at home with Elizabeth’s mother. For me, this is a fascinating part of the novel. While Elizabeth is always concerned for the children she has left behind, she forms a friendship with Lady Jane Franklin in Hobart Town, and gives birth to another child (named Franklin) there.
The Goulds returned to England in 1840. To write more about this novel would introduce spoilers for those unfamiliar with the details of Elizabeth Gould’s life. I don’t wish to do that because part of the magic of this novel is the way the story unfolds. This is a beautifully written novel: it took me into the nineteenth century, into a world I can only read about.
To write this novel, Ms Ashley (herself a keen birdwatcher) undertook years of research in order to learn more about Elizabeth Gould. And, in John Gould’s letter book at the Mitchell Library in Sydney, she found a small diary covering a two-week period of Elizabeth’s life in Sydney, Newcastle and Maitland. According to Ms Ashley’s Author’s Note, this diary and a dozen letters are all that exist of Elizabeth Gould’s thoughts and experiences.
Note: My thanks to NetGalley and Simon & Schuster (Australia) for providing me with a free electronic copy of this book for review purposes. I will be buying my own copy of the novel once it is released, as I want to see the beautiful drawings it contains in colour.
Jennifer Cameron-Smith
Elizabeth Coxen was born on 18 July 1804 at Ramsgate in England. In January 1829 she married John Gould, a zoologist. Over a decade, she designed and completed some 650 hand-coloured lithographs of exotic bird species. Elizabeth Gould is commemorated in the name of the Gouldian finch of tropical Australia (Chloebia (Poëphila) gouldiae), but what do we know about this woman? How might her life have been lived during the nineteenth century?
‘Natural history and the associated art of taxidermy were becoming a craze.’
The novel opens with Elizabeth stepping from a carriage in Bruton Street, London in 1828 on her way to meet John Gould. Her brother, Charles, is employed by John Gould and Elizabeth has been invited to undertake some drawing for him. The beginning of what will become a great partnership.
To read this novel is to see the world through Elizabeth’s eyes: to become immersed in her life, to appreciate how she juggled family responsibilities with her artistic work in what was a golden age of natural discovery. In 1838 John and Elizabeth Gould, accompanied by their eldest son and a nephew travelled to Australia to discover the curious birdlife. Their younger children were left at home with Elizabeth’s mother. For me, this is a fascinating part of the novel. While Elizabeth is always concerned for the children she has left behind, she forms a friendship with Lady Jane Franklin in Hobart Town, and gives birth to another child (named Franklin) there.
The Goulds returned to England in 1840. To write more about this novel would introduce spoilers for those unfamiliar with the details of Elizabeth Gould’s life. I don’t wish to do that because part of the magic of this novel is the way the story unfolds. This is a beautifully written novel: it took me into the nineteenth century, into a world I can only read about.
To write this novel, Ms Ashley (herself a keen birdwatcher) undertook years of research in order to learn more about Elizabeth Gould. And, in John Gould’s letter book at the Mitchell Library in Sydney, she found a small diary covering a two-week period of Elizabeth’s life in Sydney, Newcastle and Maitland. According to Ms Ashley’s Author’s Note, this diary and a dozen letters are all that exist of Elizabeth Gould’s thoughts and experiences.
Note: My thanks to NetGalley and Simon & Schuster (Australia) for providing me with a free electronic copy of this book for review purposes. I will be buying my own copy of the novel once it is released, as I want to see the beautiful drawings it contains in colour.
Jennifer Cameron-Smith
December 18, 2016
Elizabeth Gould was a prolific illustrator of birds during the 1800s. She was married to John Gould, a famous ornithologist during the time when the general public was infatuated with information about exotic bird species.
Melissa Ashley spent years undertaking research for the novel ‘The Birdman’s Wife’ – a meticulously researched and intimate historical fiction finally giving Elizabeth Gould’s work it’s proper place in natural history.
The novel traces Elizabeth’s intense relationship with John Gould from their very first meeting. He was a driven and ambitious man and expected much from his wife. Elizabeth struggled for professional recognition and like her modern counterparts, struggled with balancing her work and family life.
‘The Birdman’s Wife’ is historical fiction and will have appeal for those interested in women’s issues, ornithology, and art.
The story covers Elizabeth’s eleven-year career, during which she accompanied her husband on an expedition to Australia, an unusual move for women of the time. Ashley paints a beautiful story and gives the reader a fascinating insight into Elizabeth’s life as a wife, mother and professional illustrator.
Although Ashley’s descriptions of bird species were poetic throughout the book, not being a bird-lover myself, I found the descriptions too much after a while because I would much prefer to see a picture with the text.
Ashley has produced an interesting and thought-provoking read and I am sure ‘The Birdman’s wife’ will delight many readers.
Thank you again to Simon and Schuster (Australia) for providing me with an ARC and I look forward to seeing the colour end papers in the book on its release in October.
June 24, 2017
As a child I collected Tuckfield/Tetley bird cards and became a member of the Gould's League of Birds. History in those days were taught through the experiences of the man, so it is pleasing to see a book that highlights the woman who actually was the behind the beautiful, unique and memorable lithographs.
This is a well researched fictionalisation of the life of the amazing Eliza Gould. The book has to tread a fine line into the technical aspects of the art of bird collecting and preservation, scientific taxonomy, acquiring the right type of textures and colours in the paints and the process of lithography. The story could have bogged down in this detail, but I thought it had enough but not too much detail.
Much of the book focused on Eliza the person, her talents as an artist and mother, her devotion to her husband (sometimes to her own detriment) and her unfortunate early death.
I thought when the book moved from the technical to the personal it read a little like a romantic novel. Nonetheless, this is an easy and very interesting read into a woman who I now appreciate so much more.
This is a well researched fictionalisation of the life of the amazing Eliza Gould. The book has to tread a fine line into the technical aspects of the art of bird collecting and preservation, scientific taxonomy, acquiring the right type of textures and colours in the paints and the process of lithography. The story could have bogged down in this detail, but I thought it had enough but not too much detail.
Much of the book focused on Eliza the person, her talents as an artist and mother, her devotion to her husband (sometimes to her own detriment) and her unfortunate early death.
I thought when the book moved from the technical to the personal it read a little like a romantic novel. Nonetheless, this is an easy and very interesting read into a woman who I now appreciate so much more.
March 14, 2017
Do not waste your time. Boring and badly written. Overblown pretend 1830s language used. Tedious in detail but no real story to get your teeth into.
September 20, 2020
3.5★
I enjoyed this all the way through until the end, which seemed a bit anti-climactic. I had an inkling of what the end would be - because I went googling Elizabeth Gould not too long into the book. But even though I figured I knew what the ending would be, it fell a bit flat, in my opinion. I really enjoyed this book, but the ending let it down a little, in my opinion - it was a 4★ read until then for me!
I'd never heard of Elizabeth Gould, a renowned watercolourist, primarily of birds, until looking at this book. And coincidentally, there is a display of some massive Gouldian Finches (named for Elizabeth's husband, the birdman himself, John Gould) around Brisbane at present, plus an aviary of them at the Queensland Museum and a display of John Gould's Birds of Australia, illustrated by Elizabeth, which I'm looking forward to checking out soon!
With a newly discovered love of painting with watercolours myself over the last 2 or 3 months, I loved the descriptions of Elizabeth's efforts to mix the colours she required (sooo much harder than mixing a couple of ready-made paints together, as I do now!).
I also hadn't appreciated, until now, the efforts that people went to in the pursuit of classifying animals around the world and producing botanical illustrations - in order to examine them properly to determine distinguishing details, their carcasses were needed. Which meant lots of hunting - generally only of several of each type, but still...!
I'd love to read Elizabeth's letters for myself - although, from a picture I've seen on the State Library of NSW's website - they look difficult to read!!
I think author, Melissa Ashley, has done a great job of researching the life and work of Elizabeth Gould and making her come alive for us again today.
I enjoyed this all the way through until the end, which seemed a bit anti-climactic. I had an inkling of what the end would be - because I went googling Elizabeth Gould not too long into the book. But even though I figured I knew what the ending would be, it fell a bit flat, in my opinion. I really enjoyed this book, but the ending let it down a little, in my opinion - it was a 4★ read until then for me!
I'd never heard of Elizabeth Gould, a renowned watercolourist, primarily of birds, until looking at this book. And coincidentally, there is a display of some massive Gouldian Finches (named for Elizabeth's husband, the birdman himself, John Gould) around Brisbane at present, plus an aviary of them at the Queensland Museum and a display of John Gould's Birds of Australia, illustrated by Elizabeth, which I'm looking forward to checking out soon!
With a newly discovered love of painting with watercolours myself over the last 2 or 3 months, I loved the descriptions of Elizabeth's efforts to mix the colours she required (sooo much harder than mixing a couple of ready-made paints together, as I do now!).
I also hadn't appreciated, until now, the efforts that people went to in the pursuit of classifying animals around the world and producing botanical illustrations - in order to examine them properly to determine distinguishing details, their carcasses were needed. Which meant lots of hunting - generally only of several of each type, but still...!
I'd love to read Elizabeth's letters for myself - although, from a picture I've seen on the State Library of NSW's website - they look difficult to read!!
I think author, Melissa Ashley, has done a great job of researching the life and work of Elizabeth Gould and making her come alive for us again today.
October 14, 2016
The Birdman's Wife is the debut novel of Melissa Ashley, published by Affirm Press. It has arrived on the literary scene accompanied by a good deal of promotion and publicity - and for good reason. The Birdman's Wife is a fascinating historical study, a meticulous and well-documented scientific report, an emotional story, and an engaging read.
Elizabeth Gould was a wife and mother, an artist and illustrator, a tenacious, curious, dedicated and adventurous woman. She was the Birdman's Wife, the Birdman of course being John Gould, the famous father of ornithology, who spent much of the second half of the 1800's collecting, displaying, cataloguing and publishing wildlife, most particularly native birdlife from the wilds of Australia. John Gould's life and intellectual pursuits are well-documented; there are countless books by him and about him that depict his scientific endeavours. Less known is the invaluable contribution that his wife Elizabeth gave to his projects. In fact, while she was alive it seems it really was more a case of 'their' projects, for evidence points to Elizabeth playing a vital role in the studies they conducted.
In this novel, Melissa Ashley has pored over countless primary and secondary sources, she has travelled near and far, she has rolled up her sleeves and got her hands dirty experiencing taxonomy, she has hunted down descendants and family history, all in order to shine a spotlight on the talents and achievements of Elizabeth Gould. She has spun fiction from the base threads of fact, and what has resulted is a compelling and intriguing insight into Elizabeth's mind, her actions, her emotions, her family life and her work.
Any book such as this automatically has a spoiler alert: any cursory internet search will reveal that Elizabeth Gould died after bearing her eighth child, at the young age of only 37. And yet this fact does not detract from the intense suspension and pace of the novel; it does not dissuade the reader from frantically turning the pages in order to discover what happens next. And so very much did happen in her relatively short life, and because the novel is written in such an engaging and interesting style we are immediately drawn to the voice of Elizabeth as it rises from the pages from over 150 years earlier; from the very first chapter we care deeply about this woman and her dreams, we fall in love with her, we fret with her about her children, we worry over the quality of her work, we feel her fear and trepidation as she embarks on the epic voyage that will change her life.
Elizabeth meets John Gould by chance. They marry, and discover they have much in common, including a love for animal and birdlife, and a desire to share their knowledge of creatures with others - John through his words and Elizabeth through her drawings. John skins and stuffs specimens; his wife illustrates them, capturing their essence, their colours, their peculiar poses or habits or characteristics. Her magnificent illustrations breathe life into her husband's lifeless specimens. Together they produce definitive manuals on Australia's birdlife after a two-year period of study here, the pair travelling (five months by sea) with their eldest son, and leaving their other children in the care of Elizabeth's mother. She produced over 650 hand-coloured lithographs; she was asked to paint Charles Darwin's Galapagos Finches. Nearly all of these works were signed by both her husband and herself, as was common at the time, but it was Elizabeth's talent that really brought the beauty and uniqueness of many species to light.
Access to Elizabeth's diary and correspondence have allowed Melissa to imagine the details and minutiae of her daily life. Her love for her children - the terrible wrench of leaving them in order to accompany her husband on his travels to the southern continent! Her feminist thoughts, bound by her Victorian constraints. Her artistic ambition, overshadowed always by her husband's drive and reputation.
This book will appeal to artists, to environmentalists, to bird-lovers, to scientists and to taxonomists. But it also has general appeal to readers, to lovers of a good story. The writing is well-researched, concise and captivating. The story is gripping and enthralling - even though we already know the facts and the ending! Melissa achieves this by making it about the journey, not about the destination. Each new child, every fresh illustration, all of the small, quiet personal achievements, and each major scientific discovery - all are celebrated and enjoyed with equal pleasure.
And as an additional bonus, the beautifully-bound hardback is complete with full-colour endpapers of Elizabeth's renderings.
I was fortunate to hear Melissa speak at the Queensland Museum & Sciencentre about her research and her forays into the (smelly) world of taxonomy, about her tantalising glimpse of Elizabeth the woman and how she set about discovering the whole of her life story in technicolour. It is clear that Melissa harbours a great love and respect for the bird world, and for those who had the opportunity years ago to make startling discoveries and world-first observations. It is also clear that she has managed to unveil the story behind one of the great and intrepid female characters of history. Surely the phrase 'behind every great man stands an even greater woman' must have been coined about Elizabeth Gould. I have seldom found history to be so absorbing and so thrilling, and yet so familiar and so relevant.
Elizabeth Gould was a wife and mother, an artist and illustrator, a tenacious, curious, dedicated and adventurous woman. She was the Birdman's Wife, the Birdman of course being John Gould, the famous father of ornithology, who spent much of the second half of the 1800's collecting, displaying, cataloguing and publishing wildlife, most particularly native birdlife from the wilds of Australia. John Gould's life and intellectual pursuits are well-documented; there are countless books by him and about him that depict his scientific endeavours. Less known is the invaluable contribution that his wife Elizabeth gave to his projects. In fact, while she was alive it seems it really was more a case of 'their' projects, for evidence points to Elizabeth playing a vital role in the studies they conducted.
In this novel, Melissa Ashley has pored over countless primary and secondary sources, she has travelled near and far, she has rolled up her sleeves and got her hands dirty experiencing taxonomy, she has hunted down descendants and family history, all in order to shine a spotlight on the talents and achievements of Elizabeth Gould. She has spun fiction from the base threads of fact, and what has resulted is a compelling and intriguing insight into Elizabeth's mind, her actions, her emotions, her family life and her work.
Any book such as this automatically has a spoiler alert: any cursory internet search will reveal that Elizabeth Gould died after bearing her eighth child, at the young age of only 37. And yet this fact does not detract from the intense suspension and pace of the novel; it does not dissuade the reader from frantically turning the pages in order to discover what happens next. And so very much did happen in her relatively short life, and because the novel is written in such an engaging and interesting style we are immediately drawn to the voice of Elizabeth as it rises from the pages from over 150 years earlier; from the very first chapter we care deeply about this woman and her dreams, we fall in love with her, we fret with her about her children, we worry over the quality of her work, we feel her fear and trepidation as she embarks on the epic voyage that will change her life.
Elizabeth meets John Gould by chance. They marry, and discover they have much in common, including a love for animal and birdlife, and a desire to share their knowledge of creatures with others - John through his words and Elizabeth through her drawings. John skins and stuffs specimens; his wife illustrates them, capturing their essence, their colours, their peculiar poses or habits or characteristics. Her magnificent illustrations breathe life into her husband's lifeless specimens. Together they produce definitive manuals on Australia's birdlife after a two-year period of study here, the pair travelling (five months by sea) with their eldest son, and leaving their other children in the care of Elizabeth's mother. She produced over 650 hand-coloured lithographs; she was asked to paint Charles Darwin's Galapagos Finches. Nearly all of these works were signed by both her husband and herself, as was common at the time, but it was Elizabeth's talent that really brought the beauty and uniqueness of many species to light.
Access to Elizabeth's diary and correspondence have allowed Melissa to imagine the details and minutiae of her daily life. Her love for her children - the terrible wrench of leaving them in order to accompany her husband on his travels to the southern continent! Her feminist thoughts, bound by her Victorian constraints. Her artistic ambition, overshadowed always by her husband's drive and reputation.
This book will appeal to artists, to environmentalists, to bird-lovers, to scientists and to taxonomists. But it also has general appeal to readers, to lovers of a good story. The writing is well-researched, concise and captivating. The story is gripping and enthralling - even though we already know the facts and the ending! Melissa achieves this by making it about the journey, not about the destination. Each new child, every fresh illustration, all of the small, quiet personal achievements, and each major scientific discovery - all are celebrated and enjoyed with equal pleasure.
And as an additional bonus, the beautifully-bound hardback is complete with full-colour endpapers of Elizabeth's renderings.
I was fortunate to hear Melissa speak at the Queensland Museum & Sciencentre about her research and her forays into the (smelly) world of taxonomy, about her tantalising glimpse of Elizabeth the woman and how she set about discovering the whole of her life story in technicolour. It is clear that Melissa harbours a great love and respect for the bird world, and for those who had the opportunity years ago to make startling discoveries and world-first observations. It is also clear that she has managed to unveil the story behind one of the great and intrepid female characters of history. Surely the phrase 'behind every great man stands an even greater woman' must have been coined about Elizabeth Gould. I have seldom found history to be so absorbing and so thrilling, and yet so familiar and so relevant.
May 2, 2017
Had high hopes for this one - but I just couldn't get into it and ended up just reading it instead of being immersed in it.
November 14, 2016
Many of us know something of English ornithologist, John Gould (1804–81), most famous for his collaboration with Charles Darwin and his pioneering study of Australian birdlife. Rather less is known of Gould’s wife and collaborator, Elizabeth (1804–41), a successful artist and scientist in her own right, who created many of the scientific illustrations that accompany Gould’s writings.
In The Birdman’s Wife (Affirm Press, Oct. 2016), Melissa Ashley offers a fictional (though thoroughly researched) portrait of Elizabeth’s life, including the two-year scientific expedition she and her husband undertook to the then newly-colonised Australia. It’s a beautifully-written and finely detailed account that explores how Elizabeth managed the often conflicting roles of artist, scientist, wife and mother.
I love tales of exploration and adventure, particularly those with women at the helm. Elizabeth Gilbert’s The Signature of All Things (2012) is one of my all-time favourites, and I’m currently enjoying Stef Penney’s Under a Pole Star (2016). So I was very keen to read The Birdman’s Wife, not only for the fact that Elizabeth Gould was a real scientist, artist and pioneer but also for the opportunity to hear her story as told by a promising debut novelist.
I’m so ridiculously behind with my reviews that it’s beyond a joke, and I should really be playing catch-up, but I finished The Birdman’s Wife a few days ago, and I couldn’t wait to gush about it and recommend that you all get your hands on a copy, ASAP.
Admittedly, I don’t read a lot of historical fiction, but I dabble, and rarely have I read a novel so diligently researched as The Birdman’s Wife. From the processes of taxidermy and the fiddly business of mixing paints, to the conditions of life aboard a ship bound for the colonies, to the details of a woman’s confinement after giving birth, Ashley is incredibly thorough. In fact, if I have any criticism of The Birdman’s Wife, it’s that the details occasionally overwhelm. However, these details are so thoughtful (and often surprising) that it’s hard to begrudge Ashley her slight diversions and indulgences.
More than that, The Birdman’s Wife is exquisitely written. Ashley’s prose is immersive and compelling, giving vivid life to her characters and their world. As the title suggests, Elizabeth is at the centre of the story: a woman who is expected to support her ambitious husband (and does), while also enjoying a successful career and being a mother to the Goulds’ ever-expanding brood of children (she gives birth to eight, though not all survive). Ashley delves deep into Elizabeth’s scientific curiosity and her creativity life, while also having her question the sacrifices she and her colleagues make in the name of discovery. I particularly enjoyed Ashley’s depiction of Elizabeth as a woman working in a male-dominated field without becoming ‘one of the boys’. Rather, Elizabeth embraces her femininity and uses it to become a better scientist and artist. For example, John is into taxidermy in a BIG way, and the reader gets the impression that, while he labours in the name of science, he is also a hunter collecting trophies. (Is there a greater symbol of masculine conquest and colonialism than an animal stuffed and mounted?) Elizabeth, while not squeamish about all the killing, is uncomfortable with it, and as her skills develop, she finds she can more accurately capture a species when drawing from life rather than her husband’s specimens. For her, her work is about observation and discovery rather than ownership and conquest. She’s also a woman who likes to dress up on occasion and delights in domesticity. She relishes her role as a mother and struggles, as many modern women do, to balance her working and family life.
The minor characters are equally well-rounded, especially John Gould who is at once both admirable and brilliant, but also single-minded and (let’s face it) a bit of an asshat. In early colonial days, Australia was a brutal, unforgiving place. To a) survive it and b) get your name in the history books, you had to be pretty bloody ruthless. But Ashley takes care to show us why Elizabeth loves John and why their marriage is a success.
While I was excited to learn more about Elizabeth and her story, I was a little hesitant about the subject of her work (the fact that I loved this book as much as I did is something of a miracle). Okay *deep breath* here’s the thing: I’m terrified of birds. Especially dead ones. And The Birdman’s Wife is full of them. When I was eight or so, my family stayed with friends on a farm near Peterborough, SA. We drove around to visit some of the ruins in the area, including the remains of an old church. Being a little kid, I was eager to explore and ran inside. When my eyes adjusted to the dark, I found myself surrounded by countless dead birds in varying stages of decay. They’d flown in through gaps in the roof and become trapped, and the floor was carpeted with them. It was like something out of Barbara Baynton. John Gould would have been delighted. I, on the other hand, never quite recovered.
However, while I struggled with some of Ashley’s more vivid descriptions of the taxidermy process (and, ye gods, is she a stickler for detail!), I was ultimately grateful for her candour. There’s a tendency to romanticise the European/British exploration and settlement of Australia. Certainly, when I was at school, the narrative we were taught was that of brave male adventurers and scientists questing boldly into the unknown. Explorers and settlers’ horrific treatment of indigenous Australians, the appalling conditions convicts endured and the disastrous effects of introducing foreign species of native flora and fauna were rather glossed over. Women didn’t even get a look in. I was well into my twenties before I ever heard of Lady Jane Franklin (and was absolutely thrilled to see Ashley give her a substantial role in The Birdman’s Wife). So it was refreshing to read a story that didn’t shy away from the cost of Gould’s discoveries and to have that story narrated from one of the marginalised voices we so rarely hear from.
It’s clear that The Birdman’s Wife is a labour of love, executed with an unusual level of care and detail. In this, The Birdman’s Wife somewhat reminded me of Hannah Kent’s Burial Rites (2013): both are debut novels that began as creative writing PhD projects, and both authors harness the dedication and depth of research that a PhD demands to offer a more complex and nuanced view of women who have traditionally been simplified and sidelined by history. Both Kent and Ashley’s enthusiasm for their subjects radiates from the page. I believe this, in part, is what makes Burial Rites such a captivating read, and I hope Ashley’s novel goes on to enjoy similar success.
My ARC of The Birdman’s Wife is in e-book format, but I’ve had a stickybeak at the physical edition, and friends, trust me: you want to splurge on the hardcover. It’s a stunner and features a number of Gould’s incredible illustrations. Enjoy!
Thank you to Affirm Press for providing a copy of The Birdman's Wife in exchange for an honest review.
For more bookish bits, head on over to Lectito, or get the latest Lectito reviews delivered to your inbox.
In The Birdman’s Wife (Affirm Press, Oct. 2016), Melissa Ashley offers a fictional (though thoroughly researched) portrait of Elizabeth’s life, including the two-year scientific expedition she and her husband undertook to the then newly-colonised Australia. It’s a beautifully-written and finely detailed account that explores how Elizabeth managed the often conflicting roles of artist, scientist, wife and mother.
I love tales of exploration and adventure, particularly those with women at the helm. Elizabeth Gilbert’s The Signature of All Things (2012) is one of my all-time favourites, and I’m currently enjoying Stef Penney’s Under a Pole Star (2016). So I was very keen to read The Birdman’s Wife, not only for the fact that Elizabeth Gould was a real scientist, artist and pioneer but also for the opportunity to hear her story as told by a promising debut novelist.
I’m so ridiculously behind with my reviews that it’s beyond a joke, and I should really be playing catch-up, but I finished The Birdman’s Wife a few days ago, and I couldn’t wait to gush about it and recommend that you all get your hands on a copy, ASAP.
Admittedly, I don’t read a lot of historical fiction, but I dabble, and rarely have I read a novel so diligently researched as The Birdman’s Wife. From the processes of taxidermy and the fiddly business of mixing paints, to the conditions of life aboard a ship bound for the colonies, to the details of a woman’s confinement after giving birth, Ashley is incredibly thorough. In fact, if I have any criticism of The Birdman’s Wife, it’s that the details occasionally overwhelm. However, these details are so thoughtful (and often surprising) that it’s hard to begrudge Ashley her slight diversions and indulgences.
More than that, The Birdman’s Wife is exquisitely written. Ashley’s prose is immersive and compelling, giving vivid life to her characters and their world. As the title suggests, Elizabeth is at the centre of the story: a woman who is expected to support her ambitious husband (and does), while also enjoying a successful career and being a mother to the Goulds’ ever-expanding brood of children (she gives birth to eight, though not all survive). Ashley delves deep into Elizabeth’s scientific curiosity and her creativity life, while also having her question the sacrifices she and her colleagues make in the name of discovery. I particularly enjoyed Ashley’s depiction of Elizabeth as a woman working in a male-dominated field without becoming ‘one of the boys’. Rather, Elizabeth embraces her femininity and uses it to become a better scientist and artist. For example, John is into taxidermy in a BIG way, and the reader gets the impression that, while he labours in the name of science, he is also a hunter collecting trophies. (Is there a greater symbol of masculine conquest and colonialism than an animal stuffed and mounted?) Elizabeth, while not squeamish about all the killing, is uncomfortable with it, and as her skills develop, she finds she can more accurately capture a species when drawing from life rather than her husband’s specimens. For her, her work is about observation and discovery rather than ownership and conquest. She’s also a woman who likes to dress up on occasion and delights in domesticity. She relishes her role as a mother and struggles, as many modern women do, to balance her working and family life.
The minor characters are equally well-rounded, especially John Gould who is at once both admirable and brilliant, but also single-minded and (let’s face it) a bit of an asshat. In early colonial days, Australia was a brutal, unforgiving place. To a) survive it and b) get your name in the history books, you had to be pretty bloody ruthless. But Ashley takes care to show us why Elizabeth loves John and why their marriage is a success.
While I was excited to learn more about Elizabeth and her story, I was a little hesitant about the subject of her work (the fact that I loved this book as much as I did is something of a miracle). Okay *deep breath* here’s the thing: I’m terrified of birds. Especially dead ones. And The Birdman’s Wife is full of them. When I was eight or so, my family stayed with friends on a farm near Peterborough, SA. We drove around to visit some of the ruins in the area, including the remains of an old church. Being a little kid, I was eager to explore and ran inside. When my eyes adjusted to the dark, I found myself surrounded by countless dead birds in varying stages of decay. They’d flown in through gaps in the roof and become trapped, and the floor was carpeted with them. It was like something out of Barbara Baynton. John Gould would have been delighted. I, on the other hand, never quite recovered.
However, while I struggled with some of Ashley’s more vivid descriptions of the taxidermy process (and, ye gods, is she a stickler for detail!), I was ultimately grateful for her candour. There’s a tendency to romanticise the European/British exploration and settlement of Australia. Certainly, when I was at school, the narrative we were taught was that of brave male adventurers and scientists questing boldly into the unknown. Explorers and settlers’ horrific treatment of indigenous Australians, the appalling conditions convicts endured and the disastrous effects of introducing foreign species of native flora and fauna were rather glossed over. Women didn’t even get a look in. I was well into my twenties before I ever heard of Lady Jane Franklin (and was absolutely thrilled to see Ashley give her a substantial role in The Birdman’s Wife). So it was refreshing to read a story that didn’t shy away from the cost of Gould’s discoveries and to have that story narrated from one of the marginalised voices we so rarely hear from.
It’s clear that The Birdman’s Wife is a labour of love, executed with an unusual level of care and detail. In this, The Birdman’s Wife somewhat reminded me of Hannah Kent’s Burial Rites (2013): both are debut novels that began as creative writing PhD projects, and both authors harness the dedication and depth of research that a PhD demands to offer a more complex and nuanced view of women who have traditionally been simplified and sidelined by history. Both Kent and Ashley’s enthusiasm for their subjects radiates from the page. I believe this, in part, is what makes Burial Rites such a captivating read, and I hope Ashley’s novel goes on to enjoy similar success.
My ARC of The Birdman’s Wife is in e-book format, but I’ve had a stickybeak at the physical edition, and friends, trust me: you want to splurge on the hardcover. It’s a stunner and features a number of Gould’s incredible illustrations. Enjoy!
Thank you to Affirm Press for providing a copy of The Birdman's Wife in exchange for an honest review.
For more bookish bits, head on over to Lectito, or get the latest Lectito reviews delivered to your inbox.
July 9, 2021
Wow! A historical fiction to read, remember and give due credit to the women society forgot to mention. I have a love of art and I keep birds in an aviary out the back. I have used "The birds of Australia" many times, never really thinking about the artist and scientists behind creating the books and classifications of birds.
This fiction tells all. It is a fiction based around fact.
The story of the exquisite artist, Elizabeth Gould, after whom 2 birds have been named (Mrs Goulds Sunbird and the Gouldian).
The narrative describes in great detail the taxidermy of the animals they collected. I found it squeamish but interesting too. The detailed descriptions of the birds colouring and feather patterns I loved, but I can see how others would find this dry and boring.
Its a story of a superwoman (wife, mother of 8, artist) who does it all, and as with the times, is barely recognised for any of it.
The author, Melissa, pays great tribute to her life and art and I feel greater for having read it. I look forward to her other works.
This fiction tells all. It is a fiction based around fact.
The story of the exquisite artist, Elizabeth Gould, after whom 2 birds have been named (Mrs Goulds Sunbird and the Gouldian).
The narrative describes in great detail the taxidermy of the animals they collected. I found it squeamish but interesting too. The detailed descriptions of the birds colouring and feather patterns I loved, but I can see how others would find this dry and boring.
Its a story of a superwoman (wife, mother of 8, artist) who does it all, and as with the times, is barely recognised for any of it.
The author, Melissa, pays great tribute to her life and art and I feel greater for having read it. I look forward to her other works.
Read
September 11, 2023Read for our f2fbookclub gathering - where the vast majority of us abandoned before the end. Lots of info dumps (which would appear to have come from its early days as a phd thesis), this provided a surprisingly flat, uninteresting portrait of the central character which just didn't ever engage this reader enough to want to continue through to the end. Abandoned around 2/3rds of the way in.
September 18, 2016
The Birdman's wife (If I could I'd give 4.5 stars)
This intriguing and delightful book has stayed in my mind for weeks after completing it. I usually write reviews as I finish books. In this case I have been obsessed by the story, repeatedly thinking about Elizabeth Gould's short life and being amazed at her achievements.
Elizabeth is the wife of the naturalist and 'Birdman' John Gould who we all know in Australia from the Gould League of Bird Lovers and the wonderful prints from his books. Of course I have been rotated to learn that he was not an illustrator and many of the illustrations in his books are by his wife and other artists including the humorist and illustrator Edward Lear,
The story is told in first person by Elizabeth and the writing comes with the detail you would expect from the authentic voice of a woman who is both a highly curious artist, mother and enthusiastic collaborator with her husband and their team. The sense of the excitement shines through in the beautiful writing and depiction of an age so different from our own.
Elizabeth has the unenviable outcome of having a passionate life with John Gould: the inevitable string of children and some grief of loss along with the joy. At the same time she produces a prodigious quantity of illustrations, usually done from preserved 'skins' and taxidermied specimens and even preparing lithographic stones for printing.
We learn of the scientific methodology at this time: the killing of hundreds and hundreds of specimens, with descriptions of virtual abattoirs to process the birds and animals for preservation and later study. We can be thankful that interest in the natural world in our age can be less destructive!
Soon after finishing this book I was in a small rural town in NSW and I was incensed when I saw a truly glowingly beautiful card featuring a reproduction of a Gould yellow tailed black cockatoo. On the reverse it was attributed to John Gould. I know that he did not illustrate his books and that the Australian birds were largely illustrated by Elizabeth. She like so many women ended up little recognized, but has made an extraordinary contribution to our understanding and appreciation of the natural world.
I highly recommend this delight of a book. It was both a revelation to understand this woman's life (I know it is a novel but it is closely based on what we know of her life) and to read such a nicely written book.
I have had the opportunity to read a preview copy of this book from NetGalley. The illustrations from Gould were rudimentary in the preview copy but tantalizing.
This intriguing and delightful book has stayed in my mind for weeks after completing it. I usually write reviews as I finish books. In this case I have been obsessed by the story, repeatedly thinking about Elizabeth Gould's short life and being amazed at her achievements.
Elizabeth is the wife of the naturalist and 'Birdman' John Gould who we all know in Australia from the Gould League of Bird Lovers and the wonderful prints from his books. Of course I have been rotated to learn that he was not an illustrator and many of the illustrations in his books are by his wife and other artists including the humorist and illustrator Edward Lear,
The story is told in first person by Elizabeth and the writing comes with the detail you would expect from the authentic voice of a woman who is both a highly curious artist, mother and enthusiastic collaborator with her husband and their team. The sense of the excitement shines through in the beautiful writing and depiction of an age so different from our own.
Elizabeth has the unenviable outcome of having a passionate life with John Gould: the inevitable string of children and some grief of loss along with the joy. At the same time she produces a prodigious quantity of illustrations, usually done from preserved 'skins' and taxidermied specimens and even preparing lithographic stones for printing.
We learn of the scientific methodology at this time: the killing of hundreds and hundreds of specimens, with descriptions of virtual abattoirs to process the birds and animals for preservation and later study. We can be thankful that interest in the natural world in our age can be less destructive!
Soon after finishing this book I was in a small rural town in NSW and I was incensed when I saw a truly glowingly beautiful card featuring a reproduction of a Gould yellow tailed black cockatoo. On the reverse it was attributed to John Gould. I know that he did not illustrate his books and that the Australian birds were largely illustrated by Elizabeth. She like so many women ended up little recognized, but has made an extraordinary contribution to our understanding and appreciation of the natural world.
I highly recommend this delight of a book. It was both a revelation to understand this woman's life (I know it is a novel but it is closely based on what we know of her life) and to read such a nicely written book.
I have had the opportunity to read a preview copy of this book from NetGalley. The illustrations from Gould were rudimentary in the preview copy but tantalizing.
February 11, 2017
A suburb story of Elizabeth Gould, the wife of Australian ornithologist, John Gould, and the illustrator of his books. The detail may be too much for some readers, but as a bird watcher myself (in a very small way, but married to a man for whom it is a passion!) and as a lover of Australia and its amazing wildlife, this made it more fascinating for me. The vignettes of other scientists of the time were well done and added to the pleasure. 4.5 stars.
October 4, 2016
Detail rich, and perhaps rather heavy at times, The Birdman's Wife is overall a rather compelling read which highlighted the historical tendency for women to be relegated to stand behind their husbands regardless of how much they contributed to his fame. Throughout the novel it is clear that Melissa Ashley's research is comprehensive and extensive and this extends from her depictions of life in the 1800's in both London and Australia, life as a woman, wife, and mother during these times, the discoveries made by husband John Gould, and Elizabeth's life as a professional illustrator and wildlife pioneer in what was essentially a man's world.
A fascinating read that will endear itself to those interested in historical fiction, issues faced by women historically (arguably still today), ornithology, and the creative arts.
A simply stunning debut novel from a novelist, who given how little Elizabeth Gould was acknowledged in her lifetime, has posthumously shone the spotlight on Gould celebrating her personal and professional achievements in a touching and considered manner.
A fascinating read that will endear itself to those interested in historical fiction, issues faced by women historically (arguably still today), ornithology, and the creative arts.
A simply stunning debut novel from a novelist, who given how little Elizabeth Gould was acknowledged in her lifetime, has posthumously shone the spotlight on Gould celebrating her personal and professional achievements in a touching and considered manner.
December 6, 2016
A stunning book from cover to cover, a work of art that was almost as satisfying to look at and hold as it was to read. Almost!
In The Birdman's Wife, Melissa has shone the spotlight on a woman - Elizabeth Gould - who, as the blurb (and history) tells us, was overshadowed by her more famous husband John Gould. Although fictional, The Birdman's Wife is thoroughly researched and meticulous in its attention to the details of Gould's life and art. Melissa does not attempt to glamorise or gloss over the reality of Gould's life as a wife and mother, and the compromises she has to make for her art; nor does she trick or tantalise us through the machinations of plot. This is not a page turner, and I mean that in the best possible sense: as a reader I was charmed by the character of Elizabeth Gould, and intrigued by her life, but it was Melissa's exquisite sentences that kept me lingering on the pages, in places reading lines and paragraphs over and over, marvelling at their beauty.
In The Birdman's Wife, Melissa has shone the spotlight on a woman - Elizabeth Gould - who, as the blurb (and history) tells us, was overshadowed by her more famous husband John Gould. Although fictional, The Birdman's Wife is thoroughly researched and meticulous in its attention to the details of Gould's life and art. Melissa does not attempt to glamorise or gloss over the reality of Gould's life as a wife and mother, and the compromises she has to make for her art; nor does she trick or tantalise us through the machinations of plot. This is not a page turner, and I mean that in the best possible sense: as a reader I was charmed by the character of Elizabeth Gould, and intrigued by her life, but it was Melissa's exquisite sentences that kept me lingering on the pages, in places reading lines and paragraphs over and over, marvelling at their beauty.
December 13, 2016
4 1/2 stars. I really enjoyed this book. Having a background in zoology and an interest in ornithology, I found the descriptions of collecting specimens and preparing them for taxidermy utterly fascinating, although reading other reviews I can totally understand how some folks may not find it as enthralling! I thought it was well-researched, provided some beautiful descriptions, loved the tales of travel and expeditions, and I particularly liked the author's note at the end of the book, indicating how this project came about.
February 9, 2017
My head is still chirping from the detail in this book. So much research and heart has been poured into creating a brilliant depiction of a strong, successful woman living in a stuffy (pun intended) world of Victorian men. The toxicology, botany and ornithology language from the male science world of is beautifully juxtaposed by the feminine words of emotion - love, grief, beauty, courage, motherhood. And art is the bridge between the two worlds. A rich, transportive and intelligent historical novel - love the Lear cameo!
April 8, 2017
The Birdman’s Wife creates a conceivable account of an exceptional woman who was overshadowed by the fame and ambition of her husband John Gould. When Elizabeth first met John, she was already a fine artist and he an expert in taxidermy; plus they had a common interest in natural history, they married in 1829.
John Gould became a profitable self-publisher by selling subscriptions to his folio size publications and Elizabeth’s drawings and later lithographic skills were fundamental to the success of these. One of their early successes was the production of the The Birds of Europe (1837) and John engaged his friend Edward Lear (an artist, lithographer and satirical poet of “The Owl and the Pussy-Cat” fame) to collaborate with Elizabeth on the illustrations.
Melissa Ashley’s personal hobby in bird watching sparked her initial interest in the story of Elizabeth Gould, but with so few letters and diaries, the book is obviously a fictional account of Elizabeth’s life. Nevertheless, it is a delight to read as the author has painstakingly undertaken wide research and hands-on study to learn about her two protagonists’ talents and authentically created and portrayed for the reader an understanding of the skills used in scientific studies, illustrating, lithography and taxidermy.
The book is an admirable commentary on the lives of women of the era who unfailingly supported their husbands and families, with little to no recognition for their own outstanding achievements. As the Gould’s prospered, they were able to employ household and business staff, but at the same time as illustrating John’s works Elizabeth bore eight children, six of whom survived to adulthood. Nevertheless, Elizabeth had to choose between her children and her husband and his work. When the Gould’s embarked on their voyage to Australia, they took only their eldest child with them; sent the second child, a four-year-old to boarding school and left their 3 year old and a baby with mother and cousin in England. Elizabeth bore another child in Tasmania and on their return to England, two years later’ she birthed her last child but died soon after. Despite her pregnancies and illnesses, she kept illustrating and creating lithography’s of the Australian birds, flora and other fauna.
The author also demonstrates the additional hardships endured by the women of the era by the inclusions of the unscientific ministrations of the doctors and accoucheurs who prescribed such severe treatments as cold water dousing and bleeding by leeches during pregnancy.
Interestingly, Ashley blurs two thoughts concerning John’s use of Elizabeth as an artist, and her subsequent obscurity from our knowledge of her role in the creation of the seven-volume publication The Birds of Australia, and at least six other publications. She concedes John admires and appreciates Elizabeth’s work but his minimal if any written acknowledgement of her competences is open to speculation - was he hindered by his own pride or simply by his contemporary idea that it would not seem necessary or rightful to recognise the wife.
If you enjoy natural history, women’s history and early Australian history this is a book for you.
John Gould became a profitable self-publisher by selling subscriptions to his folio size publications and Elizabeth’s drawings and later lithographic skills were fundamental to the success of these. One of their early successes was the production of the The Birds of Europe (1837) and John engaged his friend Edward Lear (an artist, lithographer and satirical poet of “The Owl and the Pussy-Cat” fame) to collaborate with Elizabeth on the illustrations.
Melissa Ashley’s personal hobby in bird watching sparked her initial interest in the story of Elizabeth Gould, but with so few letters and diaries, the book is obviously a fictional account of Elizabeth’s life. Nevertheless, it is a delight to read as the author has painstakingly undertaken wide research and hands-on study to learn about her two protagonists’ talents and authentically created and portrayed for the reader an understanding of the skills used in scientific studies, illustrating, lithography and taxidermy.
The book is an admirable commentary on the lives of women of the era who unfailingly supported their husbands and families, with little to no recognition for their own outstanding achievements. As the Gould’s prospered, they were able to employ household and business staff, but at the same time as illustrating John’s works Elizabeth bore eight children, six of whom survived to adulthood. Nevertheless, Elizabeth had to choose between her children and her husband and his work. When the Gould’s embarked on their voyage to Australia, they took only their eldest child with them; sent the second child, a four-year-old to boarding school and left their 3 year old and a baby with mother and cousin in England. Elizabeth bore another child in Tasmania and on their return to England, two years later’ she birthed her last child but died soon after. Despite her pregnancies and illnesses, she kept illustrating and creating lithography’s of the Australian birds, flora and other fauna.
The author also demonstrates the additional hardships endured by the women of the era by the inclusions of the unscientific ministrations of the doctors and accoucheurs who prescribed such severe treatments as cold water dousing and bleeding by leeches during pregnancy.
Interestingly, Ashley blurs two thoughts concerning John’s use of Elizabeth as an artist, and her subsequent obscurity from our knowledge of her role in the creation of the seven-volume publication The Birds of Australia, and at least six other publications. She concedes John admires and appreciates Elizabeth’s work but his minimal if any written acknowledgement of her competences is open to speculation - was he hindered by his own pride or simply by his contemporary idea that it would not seem necessary or rightful to recognise the wife.
If you enjoy natural history, women’s history and early Australian history this is a book for you.
April 16, 2021
I can’t easily leave Elizabeth Gould. This novel reimagines the painting and ornithology of Australian birds but most importantly, her life as a mother and a professional illustrator. It tracks the pull between the two spheres. In real life, she sketched and coloured over 650 drawings and had 8 children. In this account we see a woman of immense talent, integrity and self-awareness. Not for every reader I suspect as it’s full of science and taxidermy, but a great read IMO.
Displaying 1 - 30 of 290 reviews