Birnam Wood by Eleanor Catton, Granta Books, 2023, hardcover; in Canada: McClelland and Stewart/Penguin Random House Canada, 2023 hardcover; 2024 paperback.
Reviewed by Eleanor Proudfoot.
Macbeth shall never vanquish’d be until Great Birnam wood to high Dunsinane hill shall come against him.
The prophetic line from one of my favourite plays, had me looking forward to reading Birnam Wood. Eleanor Catton has a knack for making her books’ titles much more appealing and magical sounding than the story that unfolds, at least for me. But don’t take this to mean that Birnam Wood isn’t appealing. It may not be magical (here be no Weird Sisters) but there is no ignoring the fact that Eleanor Catton is a master of her craft.
I think the reason my first read-through wasn’t as enjoyable as expected has nothing to do with what lies between the pages; rather that it was marketed (or at least blurbed) as a thriller. I found myself waiting for the tension to build, for events to kick off, and even when they finally did, it felt like a bit of a let down because I’d waded through hundreds of pages of dialogue and characterisation more akin to realism novels of the 19th century, only for the “big event” to come out of the blue, not having been instigated or catalysed by any of the characters, cementing my growing realization that this book was not a thriller. The occurrence and aftermath of the novel’s cataclysm felt rushed, and I finished the book with no sense of satisfaction or completion.
But that was just the first read-through. I came back to the book a couple of months later, and because I wasn’t expecting any of the tension or beats that are key to a good thriller, I was able to appreciate the true beauty of Birnam Wood.
The novel, set in New Zealand in the present day, follows Mira and Shelley, two members of the titular guerrilla gardening group, Birnam Wood, as well as dipping into the thoughts of Tony Gallo, a would-be journalist and former member of Birnam Wood, and Lord and Lady Darvish, who own the property where most of the action takes place. We also peek inside the head of the “villain,” (if there truly is one) Lemoine, an American billionaire. This is another reason this book doesn’t really work if read as a thriller: we get such an in-depth look into each character’s thoughts and motivations that we know what will happen before the action unfolds. In certain stories, the reader knowing something that a character doesn’t and watching them make fateful choices is a good way to build tension, but because of the switching perspectives of so many characters and the copious amounts of Austen-like, multiple clause sentences, the pacing caused any tension to die before it could really live.
“It was something that Mira seemed to know instinctively – that a demonstrated competency reassured some people and aggravated others; she could pitch herself at exactly the right point between whimsical amateur and winsome entrepreneur, a performance that, when Shelley tried it, only seemed to make it much less likely that the person she was talking to would want to give her things for free.”
But all these traits that make this book “not a thriller” are also its strengths. I think Catton’s prose has got great legs, rather than being leggy. And no one can deny her amazing talent for character work. Each character’s perspective feels unique and very real, and at times we even become privy to certain characters’ analysis about others’ motivations, actions, and thoughts, adding depth to this world in which we are immersed
Not only this, the dialogue sucked me in to the point where I found myself laughing out loud with the twists and turns of the conversation. The big debate scene between Tony and Amber during the hui (the Maori term used in reference to Birnam Wood group meetings) raised questions interesting enough that I was still thinking about them days later. One example is the flyaway comment that a 60% majority is just as democratic as 90%, which has the added benefit of being a perfect example of well researched characters fleshed out using clever dialogue. The scene and its aftermath also allow for a further opportunity for learning about these characters in how they react to, behave during, and reflect upon the tiff. If you’ve ever seen videos of lace being made by hand, this is exactly what Catton’s writing reminds me of: interconnected threads woven together with skill and dexterity into a complex fabric. But the threads consist of character, not plot. In this metaphor, the plot would just be the table the lace is resting on. It’s present and necessary but not really the focus.
Thematically, in a world where it does feel like deceptive, “evil” billionaires have managed to seize control of the world’s most powerful country, this book also feels very prescient. Community organisations working with nature are contrasted with those who pillage it, and we get many debates and discussions throughout the book that feel on topic. Almost like having a catch up with your friend about the state of the world, but your friend is actually a book translating all these concerns into a fictional story..
Although the Shakespeare lover in me was expecting more references to Macbeth, this is a strong novel. Read it if you love great character work and realistic dialogue, or want a book that feels like a great companion to your worries about geopolitics and the climate crisis (although it isn’t really about either of these things, the parallels will feel satisfying), and the ending sentence leaves us with a beautiful metaphor on taking action. But please don’t pick this up if you’re craving a thriller.
Eleanor Catton was born in London, Ontario, and raised in New Zealand; she now lives in Cambridge, England. Her previous novel, The Luminaries, won the Man Booker Prize and the Governor General’s Literary Award for Fiction in 2013. Her first novel, The Rehearsal, won the 2007 Adam Award from the International Institute of Modern Letters, and a Betty Trask Award. In 2008, for her MFA, Catton was awarded a fellowship to the Iowa Writers’ Workshop, where she met her husband, poet Steven Toussaint. She adapted The Luminaries as a six-part series for BBC television, and Jane Austen’s Emma for Autumn de Wilde’s feature film; they aired in 2020.
- Read Catton’s short story, “Doubtful Sound,” here.
- On giving Fifteen Dogs as a gift: The Guardian, and Lisa Allardice’s interview with Catton in February 2023, The Guardian.
- Listen to her Vimeo interview from Granta.
- B.D. McKlay, “Eleanor Catton Wants Plot to Matter Again,” The New Yorker (March 6, 2023).
Eleanor Proudfoot lives in Scotland where she writes fiction when her dog Bertie grants her the time.
Header image: Birnam Wood watercolour by Hugh William Williams; Hugh William Williams, CC0, via Wikimedia Commons; Yale Center for British Art.
