"Birds Without Wings" is an extremely ambitious attempt to craft an epic. It vividly portrays and follows the lives of the inhabitants of a village in present-day Turkey, both Muslims and Christians, during the waning years of the Ottoman Empire and the eruption of the First World War. In parallel, it also tracks the ascent of Mustafa Kemal Atatürk to become the ruler of modern Turkey. This is a massive, well-researched work with an engaging writing style that sometimes adopts a sarcastic tone. Despite having some flaws, it does possess several interesting aspects.
The opening chapters initially seem rather unpromising. The writer endeavors hard to convince the reader to persevere until the end, hinting at an epic and unthinkable tragedy. Understanding that due to the book's genre, style, and ambition, the beginning has to be slow-paced, with the diversity of side stories and characters taking precedence over driving the narrative forward. However, the first 300 pages are overly redundant and repetitive. It could easily have been trimmed by a third without sacrificing any of the details or side stories, which unfortunately is not a mark of great writing. The cliched spine around which the narrative and side-stories develop, an all-too-familiar ill-fated inter-faith love story, doesn't enhance the overall quality much. Patience is somewhat rewarded in the second half of the book, which is significantly better with a faster pace and vivid descriptions of life during wartime, both on the front lines in the trenches and back in the village.
On a personal note, being familiar with the backdrop of Muslim-Christian coexistence and the role of traditions and superstition in people's lives perhaps diminishes the fascination that an outsider reader might experience (hence the wide critical acclaim). The writer does a great deal to balance the narrative and present an equal account of the atrocities committed by each group of people during that crazy era of sectarianism, nationalism, and utopianism. He emphasizes through his characters that each party would blame the other for violence dating back further and further in time. However, this doesn't prevent him from clearly pointing the finger at the Greek prime minister during the Great War, Eleftherios Venizelos, as well as the British prime minister Lloyd George, sympathizing with a particular view of the Ottoman Empire that regards its system as truly cosmopolitan and just. I find this taking of sides, in addition to contradicting the writer's own ideas in the book, to be at least unnecessary.
Generally speaking, the sheer volume of the book reflects redundancy and repetition rather than richness. The multiple narrators add some vitality to the events, but they don't offer sufficient diversity as their accounts are almost identical. For example, there is a similar description of the village by two strangers seeing it for the first time (a mistress of the Aga of the village and a merchant from Smyrna/Izmir). The chapters dedicated to the main story, the doomed inter-faith love, are low points as they are marred by repetition and have a contrived ending. On the positive side, the chapters following the story of Mustafa Kemal Atatürk's rise to power and the Great War are quite enjoyable, with short, concise, and effective sentences. They always arrive at the right time to present a contrasting view of the plans and decisions of big political powers against the lives of ordinary people and poor soldiers. Other positive points include the realistic portrayal of some primitive and brutal aspects of most characters. The calm and peaceful side is shown alongside the violent barbarism and tribalism, much like extreme beauty coexisting with extreme ugliness.
Overall, it has very interesting parts scattered throughout, and some truly humorous and reflective writing. It provides a good reading experience (since even average writing can help us appreciate the masterpieces a bit more), and is a recommended read for those interested in this historical period from both political and humanistic perspectives.
I munched my way through this with great relish. It truly has the same wonderful mix of honesty, non-judgmental observation, and fascinating historical detail that I have come to deeply love about Louis de Bernieres. As seems to be his style, it is a touch long-winded in certain sections. In this particular case, the Mustafa Kemel sections stand out. However, even these sections are so fascinating that they only inspire the mildest spike of irritation and nothing more serious than that.
I am fast developing a profound love for this writer. I find myself making grabby hands, eager to get my hands on another one of his books. His writing has a unique charm that keeps me engaged from start to finish. I can't wait to explore more of his works and discover the new worlds and stories he has to offer.
Either de Bernières' wife cheated on him with an Armenian, or the Turkish government funded this book. I have never read anything so anti-Armenian. There is one Armenian character with whom he gets acquainted in the Ottoman town, and his name is Levon the Sly. Just like Schlomo the Sly in a pre-Nazi German village, isn't it? Those cunning, clever Armenians.
De Bernières provides exacting numbers regarding how many Muslims were slaughtered by Russians in countless little-known massacres. However, when it comes to the number of Armenians slaughtered by the Turks, he first absolves the Turks by shifting all the blame to the Kurds (who were hired by the Turks to kill). He excuses the killings by claiming that the Armenians were traitors to the Ottoman Empire anyway. Then he says that it doesn't matter whether 300,000 or 2 million were massacred, because it's a tragedy in either case. As if the New York Times didn't run continuous articles on the Genocide as it was happening, as if Morgenthau didn't resign because the US government did not step in to help the Armenians.
The reviews are quite negative. I don't understand how a book about mass killings, stonings, and whores can be this tedious to read. Moreover, it is downright racist towards the Christians oppressed in the dying throes of the Ottoman Empire. De Bernières writes with a cultural appropriation that only someone from a country that has never experienced genocide can manage.
The people who remained in this place have often asked themselves why it was that Ibrahim went mad. I am the only one who knows, but I have always been committed to silence, because he begged me to respect his grief, or, as he also put it, to take pity on his guilt.
Set in southwestern Anatolia (today Turkey) before and during World War I, Birds Without Wings is a truly wonderful novel. It tells the story of a small village and the people who live there. Prior to the war, the community is a harmonious blend of Muslims and Christians, living peaceably together. Among them is Ibrahim, a young Muslim boy who is deeply in love with the beautiful Christian girl named Philothei. They have plans to marry, but the war shatters their dreams and forever changes the lives of everyone in their village.
This was the first book I’ve read of Louis De Bernieres, who is also known for writing the notable Corelli’s Mandolin. To say I was impressed is a huge understatement. It is nearly the perfect novel. The characters are so engaging that they become unforgettable. The story is simply riveting, keeping you on the edge of your seat. The writing is extremely eloquent – few authors can ever achieve such a level of brilliance. And to top it all off, De Bernieres includes some very real and fascinating history of an area that most of us, myself included, know very little about. Birds Without Wings is now firmly added to my “favorites” list! I would rate it 4 1/2 stars!