edininny's review against another edition
5.0
Charming book! Beautifully written with a nice blend of memoir and science.
teaselkie's review against another edition
informative
reflective
slow-paced
4.75
Content Warnings
Moderate: Animal death
vampirebloom's review against another edition
5.0
Brilliant book for bird lovers a great insight to. Crows and ravens and learned magpies aren't what people make out them to be. Great read.
caffee's review against another edition
4.0
Brilliant description of a life with birds, I became quite fond of her bird family and their habits. I learnt loads about forbids particularly but also birds in general. It also made me want to visit Aberdeen and buy a good mac.
sharon_geitz's review against another edition
4.0
A really enjoyable gentle read filled with natural history information, interesting observation and personal anecdote. I took a while to read it, not because it was dull, just because it was one of those books it was easy to pick up and leave for a bit while reading other things. A really enjoyable read that I will pick up again and dip back into.
dianahincureads's review against another edition
informative
inspiring
reflective
medium-paced
4.5
Corvus is a mix of nature writing and memoir. Through research and personal experience, Woolfson effectively shatters the damaging stereotypes surrounding corvids (crows, jackdaws, rooks, ravens, jays, and magpies amongst others). Seen as evil birds, omens of doom, killers of songbirds (though corvids are songbirds too), destroyers of crops and cattle, corvids were (still are by some) heavily persecuted. In reality, they are incredible creatures, highly intelligent, and worthy of attention, especially since they are present everywhere around us. That’s one of the lessons I take from Woolfson. Pay attention to your surroundings. Really pay attention. Be curious and gentle. I’m the first one to get excited over new Netflix docuseries. Life in Colour presented by David Attenborough, Night on Earth, Chasing Coral, and countless others dazzle me, but do I even know what birds visit my garden daily?
Pondering on evolution versus creationism, the marvelous precision of flying, the avian brain, the migration patterns, and all the yearly rituals of corvids and other birds, Esther Woolfson paints a complex world in which humans are not the main protagonists.
The tenderness with which Woolfson writes about the birds that live(d) in her house is omnipresent. Chicken, the rook. Spike, the magpie. Ziki, the crow. The doves, the cockatiel, and the parrot. Feathery individuals that, paradoxically, teach us how to be more human, respectful of our planet and all its organisms.
📖 “The sight of crows feasting on the aftermath of the Great Fire of London was deemed so shocking – despite the fact that they were carrying out a task of clearing and cleaning that would inevitably have to have been done by someone – that the ensuing opprobrium damaged corvids’ prospects for centuries, in the sorry equation that made their feeding on the dead almost worse than the deaths themselves. Battlefields, those bloody drifts of the wantonly killed, of men destroyed by their own, drew (and no doubt draw) crows to feed, yet human disgust is for the feeding birds, not for the pointlessness of war, for the instigators, the perpetrators, the paymasters, the makers of arms, or indeed for the apparently insatiable human desire for the often illusory attainment gained only by conflict. Corvids seem to absorb and reflect our guilt. We are casual in our waste of the lives of other humans but reverential in the treatment of their remains.”
Pondering on evolution versus creationism, the marvelous precision of flying, the avian brain, the migration patterns, and all the yearly rituals of corvids and other birds, Esther Woolfson paints a complex world in which humans are not the main protagonists.
The tenderness with which Woolfson writes about the birds that live(d) in her house is omnipresent. Chicken, the rook. Spike, the magpie. Ziki, the crow. The doves, the cockatiel, and the parrot. Feathery individuals that, paradoxically, teach us how to be more human, respectful of our planet and all its organisms.
📖 “The sight of crows feasting on the aftermath of the Great Fire of London was deemed so shocking – despite the fact that they were carrying out a task of clearing and cleaning that would inevitably have to have been done by someone – that the ensuing opprobrium damaged corvids’ prospects for centuries, in the sorry equation that made their feeding on the dead almost worse than the deaths themselves. Battlefields, those bloody drifts of the wantonly killed, of men destroyed by their own, drew (and no doubt draw) crows to feed, yet human disgust is for the feeding birds, not for the pointlessness of war, for the instigators, the perpetrators, the paymasters, the makers of arms, or indeed for the apparently insatiable human desire for the often illusory attainment gained only by conflict. Corvids seem to absorb and reflect our guilt. We are casual in our waste of the lives of other humans but reverential in the treatment of their remains.”
leeravenn's review against another edition
4.0
Esther Woolfson offers a fascinating insight into the lives of birds -mainly corvids- in this book, part nature writing and part memoir.
Woolfson has particular trouble defining herself as a bird expert, bird-owner or bird-keeper, favoring a definition that leans toward that of a housemate instead. Her relationship with birds begins rather abruptly when given a chance to look after some doves. Until then, she admits not giving much thought to them. What follows after is how this unplanned encounter became a turning point that shifted her perception dramatically, giving way to sharing a life with rooks, magpies, cockatiels, and parrots under the same roof. Drawing parallels between the experiences of caring for pets and wild birds would not be entirely reasonable. Cats and dogs were bred for centuries to live alongside humans, while most birds remain outside the human scope, despite their proximity to us. Indeed, Woolfson emphasizes the wild nature of birds, their freedom to come and go wherever they please, often reflecting on the decisions that she has made regarding their upkeep. However, the birds that usually land on Woolfson's footstep are those that she found impossible to reintroduce to the wild or whose prospects, considering the circumstances, weren’t especially promising.
Consequently, Woolfson inadvertently became the go-to person whenever a bird was misplaced, unwanted or damaged in her community. There is room for both joy and sorrow in these stories. In particular, her experience adopting parrots is heartbreaking, to say the least. As it is often the case with adopted pets, past experiences can also imprint the character of an older bird. In other words, a mistreated bird may show reluctance to contact with humans, be permanently afraid of certain things, or even emit sounds that would give away the time that they have spent in unsuitable places. Most of the time, owners give up these birds due to lack of knowledge, especially concerning their display of high-pitched voices.
Soon after the doves, they found Chicken (short for Madame Chickeboumskaya), a fledgling rook. Through Woolfson’s experiences with this young rook, we learn about the extraordinary characters of corvids, capable of showing affection, humor, anger, and playfulness. Beyond Chicken's unique character traits, her study also covers other remarkable aspects of these species, such as their unusual sight, their intense drive to cache and its implications with memory and brain, how they experience seasons, the learning process behind bird-singing, etc.
If there’s anything to be taken away from this book, is how little we actually know about other living beings that surround us. Corvids, rats, doves, and squirrels are a common sight in urban emplacements, but how much do we know about them? Where do doves and corvids' reputation as ‘flying vermin’ stem from? Can we tell a rook, a crow, a jackdaw and a raven apart? Woolfson argues that fear -both physical and psychological- may have a played a significant role in our perception of corvids. In response to our combined lack of awareness and apprehension, superstition and popular culture often fill in the blanks, either attributing human-like qualities to them or regarding them as intrinsically dumb or loathsome.
Woolfson's prose is intimate and lyrical, mirroring her passion and admiration towards birds, which she manages to convey flawlessly. Corvus invites us to open our eyes and take a closer look at our surroundings, including those living beings that have miraculously managed to coexist with us. We may be surprised to learn that they have more to offer than what meets the eye.
As a side note, Helen Macdonald’s fans will be glad to know that she is in charge of the beautiful illustrations found in Corvus.
Woolfson has particular trouble defining herself as a bird expert, bird-owner or bird-keeper, favoring a definition that leans toward that of a housemate instead. Her relationship with birds begins rather abruptly when given a chance to look after some doves. Until then, she admits not giving much thought to them. What follows after is how this unplanned encounter became a turning point that shifted her perception dramatically, giving way to sharing a life with rooks, magpies, cockatiels, and parrots under the same roof. Drawing parallels between the experiences of caring for pets and wild birds would not be entirely reasonable. Cats and dogs were bred for centuries to live alongside humans, while most birds remain outside the human scope, despite their proximity to us. Indeed, Woolfson emphasizes the wild nature of birds, their freedom to come and go wherever they please, often reflecting on the decisions that she has made regarding their upkeep. However, the birds that usually land on Woolfson's footstep are those that she found impossible to reintroduce to the wild or whose prospects, considering the circumstances, weren’t especially promising.
Consequently, Woolfson inadvertently became the go-to person whenever a bird was misplaced, unwanted or damaged in her community. There is room for both joy and sorrow in these stories. In particular, her experience adopting parrots is heartbreaking, to say the least. As it is often the case with adopted pets, past experiences can also imprint the character of an older bird. In other words, a mistreated bird may show reluctance to contact with humans, be permanently afraid of certain things, or even emit sounds that would give away the time that they have spent in unsuitable places. Most of the time, owners give up these birds due to lack of knowledge, especially concerning their display of high-pitched voices.
Soon after the doves, they found Chicken (short for Madame Chickeboumskaya), a fledgling rook. Through Woolfson’s experiences with this young rook, we learn about the extraordinary characters of corvids, capable of showing affection, humor, anger, and playfulness. Beyond Chicken's unique character traits, her study also covers other remarkable aspects of these species, such as their unusual sight, their intense drive to cache and its implications with memory and brain, how they experience seasons, the learning process behind bird-singing, etc.
If there’s anything to be taken away from this book, is how little we actually know about other living beings that surround us. Corvids, rats, doves, and squirrels are a common sight in urban emplacements, but how much do we know about them? Where do doves and corvids' reputation as ‘flying vermin’ stem from? Can we tell a rook, a crow, a jackdaw and a raven apart? Woolfson argues that fear -both physical and psychological- may have a played a significant role in our perception of corvids. In response to our combined lack of awareness and apprehension, superstition and popular culture often fill in the blanks, either attributing human-like qualities to them or regarding them as intrinsically dumb or loathsome.
Woolfson's prose is intimate and lyrical, mirroring her passion and admiration towards birds, which she manages to convey flawlessly. Corvus invites us to open our eyes and take a closer look at our surroundings, including those living beings that have miraculously managed to coexist with us. We may be surprised to learn that they have more to offer than what meets the eye.
As a side note, Helen Macdonald’s fans will be glad to know that she is in charge of the beautiful illustrations found in Corvus.
tonimcl's review against another edition
5.0
Woolfson is a lovely writer, adeptly pairing narrative of her experiences living with birds, including three corvids (a rook, a magpie, and a crow) with literary, scientific, and historic references to these often-maligned, intelligent, magnificent creatures. A worthwhile read if you enjoy witty, astute narrative and appreciate animals of any type.