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A review by magpietortoise
The Bird's Nest by Shirley Jackson
5.0
I finished The Bird’s Nest in three wholesome days. And wholesome they were, due to the great prose I was able to dive into upon any chance I could get.
Shirley Jackson is an inspiration; her unique voice consistently shows the reader the complexities of the human condition and more specifically what it is to be a woman. Jackson balances scenic descriptions – “Miss Jone’s home was ugly. It had been freely embellished outside with many of the small details which so depress a lover of the classic in architecture; it was heavy with wooden lace and startling turrets, and gave the impression (and here I confess I am malicious) of having been assembled by the same artistic hand as Miss Jones.” (172) – and intricate characterisation – “Morgen came downstairs and found her refrigerator full of mud. Swift-change artists she could countenance, mad doctors and fiendish scientists she might accept, burbling nieces with notions of stolen inheritances she could regard with composure, but she could not and would not endure any tampering with her refrigerator” (199) –beautifully. Only humour can stem from the clash of how it all exists on the page together. Jackson creates unique worlds which though they are bizarre and extreme hold a mirror up to the modern times we live in.
The Bird’s Nest begins with a museum in need of repair. It is clear to see how this building is in fact, a background metaphor for the repair protagonist Elizabeth must make on her own body. She suffers from what is now known as dissociative identity disorder. Her identity, a confusing mix of opposing extremes, is what the other characters: Aunt Morgen and Doctor Wright (each with their own chapter) want to save. But the search to save Elizabeth brings up a lot of thought-provoking questions about identity and reality. Who are we if we are always changing? Are we the person our relatives remember us as, before we were ill? The story is also a sensitive probe into the essence of grief and trauma. Elizabeth internalized her troubled childhood and so, like a building weakens when its contents get too much (I can’t help thinking of the staff offices at Birkbeck. Academics with empty shelfs because the walls can’t support the strain of books) her mind has started to react to the pressure. This has resulted in her “four warring personalities.”
Thank you Shirley Jackson for writing this book, it’s absolutely brilliant!
Shirley Jackson is an inspiration; her unique voice consistently shows the reader the complexities of the human condition and more specifically what it is to be a woman. Jackson balances scenic descriptions – “Miss Jone’s home was ugly. It had been freely embellished outside with many of the small details which so depress a lover of the classic in architecture; it was heavy with wooden lace and startling turrets, and gave the impression (and here I confess I am malicious) of having been assembled by the same artistic hand as Miss Jones.” (172) – and intricate characterisation – “Morgen came downstairs and found her refrigerator full of mud. Swift-change artists she could countenance, mad doctors and fiendish scientists she might accept, burbling nieces with notions of stolen inheritances she could regard with composure, but she could not and would not endure any tampering with her refrigerator” (199) –beautifully. Only humour can stem from the clash of how it all exists on the page together. Jackson creates unique worlds which though they are bizarre and extreme hold a mirror up to the modern times we live in.
The Bird’s Nest begins with a museum in need of repair. It is clear to see how this building is in fact, a background metaphor for the repair protagonist Elizabeth must make on her own body. She suffers from what is now known as dissociative identity disorder. Her identity, a confusing mix of opposing extremes, is what the other characters: Aunt Morgen and Doctor Wright (each with their own chapter) want to save. But the search to save Elizabeth brings up a lot of thought-provoking questions about identity and reality. Who are we if we are always changing? Are we the person our relatives remember us as, before we were ill? The story is also a sensitive probe into the essence of grief and trauma. Elizabeth internalized her troubled childhood and so, like a building weakens when its contents get too much (I can’t help thinking of the staff offices at Birkbeck. Academics with empty shelfs because the walls can’t support the strain of books) her mind has started to react to the pressure. This has resulted in her “four warring personalities.”
Thank you Shirley Jackson for writing this book, it’s absolutely brilliant!