Birdsong is the soundtrack to our world. We have tried to capture its fleeting, ephemeral beauty, and the feelings it inspires, for millennia.
In this captivating and lively account, Richard Smyth explores science, music, literature, landscape and the thousand different ways in which birdsong has moved us. A bright song on a lonely street can lift our mood, bringing comfort, wonder or joy. But can we learn to listen, really listen, to what the birds are saying? Or do they just tell us back our own tales?
‘Exquisite . . . a many textured love song to the bird in all of us’ – Miriam Darlington
“A lively sense of the absurd, a wryly precise prose style and an appropriately magpie-like curiosity for his subject. There’s a wonderful democracy of reference to a book that draws on Radiohead and The Simpsons as well as Messiaen and Duchamp; that considers East End bird-catching alongside the Romantics and current bioacoustics research … Smyth has taught himself to hear, and it’s impossible to read his vivid account and not listen just a little closer yourself” – The Spectator
“Entertaining and idiosyncratic … witty and engaging. He has a penchant for thinking of curious and apt descriptions … A Sweet, Wild Note is often engrossing … and, at times, really quite enlightening” -- Nick Major, The National
“A fascinating book, beautifully evocative, a pleasure to read, and as uplifting as listening to a blackbird or robin in full voice. Every page of this book offers endless interesting facts” – The York Press
“The effortless writing in here makes for easy reading and he keeps your interest in the subject all the way through by mixing together history, science and personal anecdotes … well worth reading, and it has a stunning cover too” – Half Man, Half Book
“Intriguing thoughts on birdsong” – Simon Barnes, Sunday Times Magazine“Comic, insightful and lyrical” – Sam Read, Bookseller
“I would highly recommend it as a thoughtful, accessible and witty introduction to the world of birdsong and defy anybody who reads this book not to resolve to pay more attention themselves” -- Chris Foster, Considering Birds blog
“Fascinating … about the effect of birdsong on our lives and its cultural impact throughout history” -- LeedsBigBookend.co.uk
“[A] gem of a book … I could not put it down” – Femke Montagne, Waterstones Aberystwyth
“Smyth’s fascinating study is full of expert knowledge and witty observations and will have you listening to the dawn chorus with fresh ears and a glad heart” -- The Simple Things Magazine
“Will make you listen differently … consider this book a bit like the ‘tasting notes’ on a fine wine” – Richard Littledale, The Preacher’s Blog
“Perfectly paced … bubbles along, itself like birdsong; the occasional unexpected wry note adding a layer of wit” – Matt Gaw, journalist and columnist‘Well worth a read . . . hits many sweet notes’ – Mark Avery, author of Remarkable Birds and Conflict in the Uplands
‘A delightful meditation on the wonders of nature's best free show – birdsong – and how it has seeped into our culture through the ages’ – Stephen Moss, author of Wild Hares and Hummingbirds and Wild Kingdom
‘Between the fibrillating throats of birds and the human mind lies an extraordinary landscape, a place created by the intersection of culture, biology, and literature. Richard Smyth is a brilliant, insightful, and witty guide in this fascinating terrain’ – David George Haskell, author of The Songs of Trees and the Pulitzer finalist, The Forest Unseen. Professor of Biology, University of the South
‘This is a delightful book that does exactly what it says on the it plays a sweet wild note. If you are already tuned in to bird song you will learn a lot more and if you aren’t you will want to be. Reading it honestly seems to have improved my (ornithological) listening and hearing as well as cheering my heart’ – Sara Maitland, author of Gossip from the The Tangled Roots of Our Forests and Fairytales
“A lovely book ... lovingly written” – Georgey Spanswick, BBC radio
“Full of zest and at times deliciously wry, this is a well-informed, warm and effortlessly endearing call to arms to listen – perhaps for the first time in years – with our ears and, more importantly, to feel it in our hearts. Smyth is, without doubt, an exciting new nature-writing talent” – Jules Howard, zoologist, writer and broadcaster
“A long time since I found myself this engrossed in a book; simply fabulous!” – James Common, @CommonByNature
“Fantastic … primed with humour and warmth … [the] beautifully eye catching cover really sparks the imagination of the reader and gives an insight into the wonders that are housed inside” – The Quiet Knitter
“Witty, informed, readable… I am really loving A Sweet, Wild so well researched, at times funny and at times touching” – Nick Acheson, @themarshtit ...
Richard Smyth is a writer, researcher and editor based in Bradford. He is a regular contributor to Bird Watching magazine, and reached the final of Mastermind with a specialist subject of British birds. He writes and reviews for The Times, Guardian, Times Literary Supplement, Literary Review, New Statesman, BBC Wildlife, New Humanist, Illustration and New Scientist. He also writes novels and short fiction, and has written several books on English history.
Can you imagine a world without birdsong? The very thought makes me shudder, but in the noise created by modern city life, the warbling is relegated to a footnote in the modern din. Whilst you will hear more birdsong in the countryside, the wholesale devastation of birds and invertebrates by modern industrial farming mean that you do hear it as often as you once would have.
It is a tragedy of the modern age.
Thankfully you can still hear birdsong and at its best it is a wonderful natural musical background to our world. It has had a profound effect on artists, musicians and has influenced elements of our culture and sciences for hundreds of years. For Smyth though, it was a small part of his world, like an electronic gadget, but it was something that he really didn’t understand or have any concept of. He was not alone, lots of people have tried to fathom out the whys and wherefores of birdsong and have never really got to the bottom of it. Some of the songs are territorial, some are to attract mates and other songs just seem to be for the hell of it. What we hear is not what the birds hear
Realising how little he knows, Smyth sets out on a journey to discover how much, or little, everyone knows about this phenomena. On this he will discover the syrinx that allows them to sing two notes at once, the live recording of cellist, Beatrice Harrison, with a nightingale in a Surrey garden, how poets respond to the notes they are hearing and how birdsong made the soldiers on the battlefields of World War 1 feel homesick. It is quite a journey too; he meets birders, linguists, twitchers, data analysts and musicians. All of these add to his understanding of what happens, but the only way to gain the emotional response is to head into the nearest wood with an expert who can tell his warbler from his chiffchaff.
I finished reading this in the garden over the weekend with birdsong all around. Sadly, mostly it was the tuneless chirps from the sparrows, but in amongst that was songs from a bird that I didn’t recognise. The effortless writing in here makes for easy reading and he keeps your interest in the subject all the way through by mixing together history, science and personal anecdotes. All of this adds up to a book on birdsong that is well worth reading, and it has a stunning cover too. Like all good non-fiction books it answers lots of your questions, and hopefully it will inspire people to get outside to hear the music of the birds.
Despite being a birdwatcher since childhood, Smyth had always been ambivalent about birdsong. He certainly wasn’t one of those whizzes who can identify any bird by its call; in fact, he needed convincing that bird vocalizations are inherently beautiful. So he set off to answer a few questions: Why do birds sing? How can we recognize them by their songs? And how have these songs played into the human‒bird relationship throughout history? Ranging from bird anatomy to poetry, his historical survey is lighthearted reading that was perfect for the early days of spring. There are also chapters on captive birds, the use of birdsong in classical music, and the contribution birds make to the British soundscape. A final section, more subdued and premonitory in the vein of Silent Spring, imagines a world without birdsong and “the diminution that we all suffer. … Our lives become less rich.” (The title phrase is how Gilbert White described the blackcap’s song, Smyth’s favorite.)
Favorite lines:
“when everything around you seems to be moving at a gallop, a bird’s song reminds you that some things stay the same … that you really can go home again.”
“in many ways the whole point of birdsong is that it’s beyond our grasp. It’s fleeting, evanescent; you might as well try to take a fistful of morning mist. But that hasn’t stopped us trying.”
A Sweet, Wild Note is as much science as it is philosophy. We know, to some extent, why birds sing - but we can never know exactly what that song means. Much of what birds are to us is wrapped up in literary tradition, in ideas and omens. As mentioned in Corvus which I also read this year, often the simple sight of a crow on a movie poster is enough to inspire dread. To those who know and live with crows, as I do, the crow often comes across as simply what it is. A crow. A cute, inquisitive, sociable bird. It's like hearing the rat squeak in a film that to the rat owner inevitably means "I want that treat." Not so threatening.
The book goes over the history of whether or not birdsong is truly musical (throughout much of history, and even now in fact, it isn't. Birdsong doesn't follow our musical rules, after all, and belongs wholly to the birds.) It examines what birdsong means to us, and how what we hear when we hear birdsong is effectively created through our experience rather than what the bird might be trying to convey. Of equal note is what the silence of birds means to us. The absence of birdsong, regardless of whether or not we can recognize what birds are making the song, what the soundscape means, etc. inevitably produces in us a bone-deep dread. The general public may think the bald eagle sounds like a redtail in a dive, as that scream is commonly used rather than the bald eagles true adorable chirp, but we still know that birdsong is something necessary to any landscape.
And increasingly that song is disappearing.
Songbirds are an excellent indicator of the health of any given ecosystem. The greater diversity of birds, the healthier the environment they live within. We may increasingly be dooming ourselves to a Crow Planet, in the US rife with little more than the highly adaptable corvids and the extremely successful invasive house sparrows and European starlings. And our world would be all the poorer for that change..
"I think perhaps the singing is the happiness, and the happiness is the singing."-Richard Smyth
I read a wide variety of books, and love numerous authors. Richard Smyth happens to be my favorite. When I read his first novel it did not occur to me that he was also a nature writer. It may not have occurred to him that his fiction fans would also be nature nuts, but in "A Sweet, Wild Note," he brings his usual mix of wit and intelligence to pay homage to a class of animals that are very dear to many hearts. I am not a bird watcher, but I did work as a bird specialist years ago. This book digests the hows and whys of wild birdsong (along with it's place in our world), with many great resources and original conclusions. Smyth references my favorite fairy tale, "The Nightingale," along with a plethora of great works that help to put the nature of birdsong in perspective while being entertaining and reminding us of our role in preserving our avian neighbors.
A highly entertaining and readable book, one that is full of insights. At times, however, it becomes journalistic and reads like a survey of a field rather than an engagement with birds. An example of this would be when Mozart's pet starling enters the landscape-- the author follows a Wikipedia version, the inaccurate, received truth, rather than the exact, historical background. Smyth writes wonderfully on Coleridge, however, whose first poem to the nightingale, praises her. Typical Romantic stuff. The second attempt revises this: Coleridge was more of a naturalist by this point and had realised that the female nightingale rarely sings. Natural history is not literary history and the nightingale-female muse is a complete misnomer. Smyth is capable of beautiful writing and his elegy for the all too possible silencing of bird song creeps up on the reader like a dark shadow. Imagine a world without a note!
Smyth draws on an eclectic range of sources, science, poetry, music. I loved learning about Beatrice Harrison dueting with a nightingale, Bertie Krause studying natural audioscapes, and Laurence Sterne sympathizing with a caged starling.
When I was twelve I joined the Young Ornithologist's Club and so began my life long love of wild birds. There's nothing more relaxing,than listening, in the early morning, to the birds as they chirrup and tweet and go about their business, or to sit outdoors and listen to the steady chatter of busy sparrows, or the cheerful soaring of a blackbird in fine voice. I don't claim to be knowledgeable about birds, I just love them for joy they bring to my world.
A Sweet, Wild Note is a delightful book which allows a privileged glimpse into the complicated world of birdsong. From the reasons why birds sing the way they do, through to the association of birds in literature, drama, music and science, there is something very precious in what they share with us. I can still remember with great clarity the eeriness of the 1999 solar eclipse when all the birds went silent for a few minutes and I realised then just what a strange and unearthly world we would have if we had no birdsong.
The author writes very knowledgeably and shares his own personal stories and anecdotes alongside facts and figures which makes the book so easily readable. I really enjoyed dipping in and out of the chapters, picking up snippets of information that I never knew I needed to know about birdsong but which collectively enhance my understanding of what makes birdsong, and its connection to us, so very, very, precious.
The glorious book cover enhances what's inside to perfection and if you're a bird enthusiast I am sure that you will enjoy this book for its factual information, but it's also equally fascinating for those of us who just love the simple pleasure of listening to the daily soundtrack of the beautiful birds who inhabit our gardens, woodlands and landscapes.
A lovely book on the twitterings and chatterings of our feathered friends. I appreciated how he combined elements of science, philosophy, and poetry to highlight how complex our relationship to birdsong really is. This is a must-read for any bird lover.
Absorbing,down to earth study - not at all technical,but from a human and cultural perspective: how we mythologize ,and project onto birdsong more than is actually there.
One example out of many:the way in which "larks " and "nightingales" were made into quintessentially British icons,- (think Vaughan Williams,'Lark Ascending' or stories of larks at the Western Front reminding soldiers of dear old Blighty) - when actual species such as skylarks are really borderless visitors,and have no sense of British identity that got forced on them.
Very readable, ends with a moving account of birdsong falling silent,(after Rachel Carson's 'Silent Spring'),followed by a reference to the BBC series Detectorists,as Richard Smyth remembers the moment when Lance 'makes amends to nature' after his "discovery".....and the birds start singing again.
Something magical happened whilst I was reading A Sweet, Wild Note: I felt more attuned to birdsong than I had ever been before. I admit it was the start of spring but I suddenly started to notice the chirrup of the sparrow building its nest in our garden hedge and I don't believe I would have noticed it had I not been reading this delightful book.
So I had a few preconceptions of a book about birdsong but when faced with the most unexpected and hilarious opening line in Chapter 1, my preconceptions flew out of the window. I'm not going to say what it is as I don't want to spoil it for other readers but kudos to Richard Smyth for delivering such a cracking opening line. It managed to set the tone of book as being factual but fun and made me more eager to read it than at first expected.
The book comprises only six chapters as we investigate birdsong and its place in music, literature and our own lives. I was fascinated by the cellist Beatrice Harrison who was recorded playing her cello in a Surrey bluebell wood accompanied by the pure warbling notes of a nightingale. This had me whizzing off to google to listen for myself and you can listen to it here on YouTube.
As spring began to take hold whilst I was reading A Sweet, Wild Note I only had to lift my gaze out of the window to see the birds' nests taking shape in the trees. I watched a pair of magpies, carrying impossibly sized twigs in their beaks, building a nest so huge it could house a whole mischief of magpies. At first I was disappointed that magpies had chosen this prime spot in front of my window: I'm a Sunderland fan so anything black and white makes me look like I'm sucking a lemon, but of all the birds to build a nest it had to be the thieving Bill Sykes of birds! Richard Smyth managed to make me see magpies in a new light as a necessary cog in nature's wheel and I'm now looking forward to seeing the magpie family's new additions...until they wake me up at 5am on a Sunday!
An absolute must for any bird lover, A Sweet, Wild Note is completely enlightening and absolutely fascinating.
I chose to read an ARC and this is my honest and unbiased opinion.
This book had been lingering on my shelf since I bought it back in the year it came out. The subject matter sounded interesting to me, but I just never picked it up to read. Of course, now I have and I am glad I did.
This was a both a joyous read and a sad one. Joyous, because it pulled my attention to the birdsong that sounds all the time where I live, deep in the Dutch countryside. But sad, as birdsong is not as prevalent as it once was.
The author explores birdsong through tidbits of science, literature, and his own musings and experiences. Because of that, it never felt too heavy or serious and it felt like a work of love instead. There was an philosophical element to this book and I actually really enjoyed that. It did make me smile in places too, which is always a bonus!
At under 200 pages this is not a long book, but what those pages hold was enough to keep me interested without getting bored at any point.
If you enjoy nature and are not expecting a scientific textbook, but rather a celebration of that most nostalgic of sounds that nature provides us with, I have no doubt you would enjoy this.
The book looks at birdsong from a historic, scientific and personal perspective. Birdsong can, and has, been used in a variety of ways in the past. It has influenced music and literature and been used to create dramatic effect in films and TV shows.
The uses and representations of birdsong have changed over time and the removal of birdsong can be just as powerful as its use. Birdsong can be used symbolically in literature, to accompany musicians and to creats special effects. For example in this book I learnt that 'the calls of baby owls and swans were manipulated to create some of the dinosaur noises in Jurassic Park'.
If I'm being honest this book just wasn't for me. I love the cover and the illustrations inside but the topic just doesn't interest me. I've discovered that while I notice the presence, or lack thereof, of birdsong I'm just not interested in learning about it. The book is much more academic than first impressions suggest which I didn't enjoy. I'm sure this book would appeal to many people but I'm just not one of them.
I love listening to my neighborhood birds in spring and summer! This book was such a joy to read. I attract as many birds to my yard as I can, just enjoy listening to them sing. I can can even call the bluejays and they will respond! I do baby bird calls to announce feeding the birds! I don't think a human exists who doesn't feel joy and pleasure listening to the birds. From 5 in the morning wake up call from a lovely neighborhood robin, to the peeps of baby birds greeting their parents, to the end of the day chatterings and chirpings of birds in our local bird tree it's all wonderful to hear. Lovely book! Make a great gift for a bird lover! I received a Kindle ARC from Netgalley in exchange for a fair review.
This is a gorgesouly written account on bird song and the impact it has had on humanity since the beginning. With carefully chosen pieces of poetry and snippets of essays that perfectly complement the point the author is making, this book will make you listen to birdsong in a comletely new way.
This book is a love song to birds. For anyone who admires them or who just wants to learn more about them in a way that is not boring or terribly didactic, I recommend this book. It was a joy to read.
My thoughts while listening to birds sing will never be quite the same. I've gone from "pretty song" to a flood of poetic, historic, scientific, and cultural thoughts after reading this book. All for a greater appreciation of what to some is ambient noise but to others is so much more. And the author is correct, to not hear the birds sing and call to one another would be ominous and troubling.
A good book for bird lovers and really anyone who enjoys hearing birds sing in their garden.
A delightful, idiosyncratic and fascinating book about the place of bird song in our lives. Smyth is a wry, self-deprecating writer who draws not only on his own experience, but on music - all kinds of music from every period, on literature, on social history, on science, on previous students and lovers of birds, on landscape, to develop this entertaining yet well-researched read. I finished it resolving ti be more attentive to birdsong, an important if ephemeral backdrop to our daily lives.
"But with song (...) the paradox isn´t quite complete, because, of course, cage or no cage, the song goes on - and that, I suppose, is for us the sound, not of freedom, but of hope." I learned a lot!! Birds have fucking dialects, just like us, but EVEN MORE COMPLEX. Caged chaffinches were used to compete against each other in song. John Keats was so struck by a nightingales´s song that the border between species seemed to disappear - same activated hormones, like a drug. Idk, so much more!
Loved this. Brightly written and informative, discussing birdsong in literature, music and science - and much of the writer's birdwatching (and listening) was done in West Yorkshire so I recognised the locations.
You may wonder what there is to say about birdsong that would fill a book but this is a really interesting book looking at birdsong from many different perspectives including in literature, identification of birdsong, recording of birdsong and the loss of birdsong. I enjoyed it.
I was first drawn to this book by its gorgeous cover, but Richard Smyth’s lovely writing style – a bit like that bloke you enjoy chatting to down the pub, but the one with a real passion and depth of knowledge about his subject – really drew me in, and I thoroughly enjoyed every moment. I found out about different birdsongs – the blackcap “drunken, loud, littered with chitters and generally all over the shop”, the turtle dove “a soft woolly power drill”, and did you know the robin’s song changes with the seasons (or does it…)?
One lovely sentence, early in the book, really resonated with me: "A bright birdsong on a lonely street can lift our mood, or leaven our loneliness." I instantly shot back in time, to a personal memory – the unmitigated misery of a childhood caravan holiday (maybe aged nine or ten) with grandparents and extended family, escaping (with a book, of course) into a nearby field, and hearing for the very first time the song of a skylark. I can taste, smell and feel the moment – the sheer unadulterated joy of it.
This book ranges far and wide – across birdsong in literature, why birds sing (because they’re happy to be birds?), the science of birdsong, the story of Graham who identifies birds by songs and calls, a trip to the British Library at Thorp Arch, the fact that chaffinches learn dialect from their fathers, birdsong and music, bird keeping and a caged bird’s interaction with the wild, the impact of human noise on birds’ behaviour. It was just totally fascinating… and I was so caught up by it that the final part on hearing the silence almost made me cry. Did you know film makers sometimes suppress birdsong for increased dramatic effect? The Road – and the silence surrounding Hardy’s Tess?
Wonderful stuff…I’d recommend this gorgeous book to just about anyone.