I adored Stephen Moss’ The Wren: A Biography, which I read quite recently, and was keen to get my hands on a copy of The Twelve Birds of Christmas. The idea behind it is rather charming; Moss tells ‘the enthralling story of twelve iconic British birds’ by ‘playing on one of our best-known carols’. Like The Wren, this proved to be another firm favourite of mine, and it was the perfect tome to kick off my Christmas reading with.
In The Twelve Birds of Christmas, Moss has given an avian interpretation to the famous Christmas carol, ‘The Twelve Days of Christmas’, which first appeared in its written form around 1780. He personally describes it as ‘endlessly parodied, highly memorable and occasionally infuriating’. Together with his own commentary, ‘he weaves history, culture, bird behaviour and folklore into a compelling narrative for each species’, and traces their fortunes over the centuries since the carol first appeared.
To anyone who knows the carol already, birds feature heavily, but Moss asked himself whether the entire carol could really be about our avian friends. He muses: ‘… I look beneath the surface of this familiar carol, and reveal what I believe is an alternative meaning to the verses. For in my view, every single one of the carol’s dozen lines could plausibly be about a particular species of bird.’
The birds which Moss focuses on here are both rare and common in the United Kingdom. In turn, he writes about grey partridges, turtle doves, domestic chickens, blackbirds, yellowhammers, geese, mute swans, nightjars, cranes, black grouse, sandpipers, and woodpeckers. In each separate chapter, he weaves in observations made throughout history about his chosen birds. These largely come from naturalists who have influenced Moss’ own career. He links each species rather cleverly to the original carol; the crane, for instance, has been selected to represent ‘nine ladies dancing’ because of its entrancing mating dance.
Focus has been placed upon the effects of individuals determined to reverse the decline of bird species, many of which have a current status which looks rather bleak. Of the turtle dove, for instance, Moss writes: ‘Once so common that observers didn’t even bother to send in records of the species, by the turn of the millennium it had disappeared as a breeding bird from the county’ of Somerset, where Moss’ home is located. Some of the birds featured in The Twelve Birds of Christmas have thankfully fared better; the blackbird, for example, is the fourth most numerous bird in Britain, and is ‘present in 96 per cent of all the 3,862 10 kilometre squares in Britain and Ireland, in both summer and winter.’
Throughout, Moss touches upon so many different elements of bird life: the domestication of birds by humans; the migratory patterns of different species; folklore; and the effects of climate change and the destruction of habitats on bird numbers. The chapters are relatively short, but the book itself is undoubtedly thorough.
The Twelve Birds of Christmas is a darling book, even lovelier than it sounds. Gloriously illustrated throughout, and impeccably researched, Moss gives such attention to detail. His enthusiasm for nature shines through on every single page. His prose is rich and captivating, and it is so easy to read.
The structure which Moss has fitted his twelve birds around works wonderfully, and he certainly makes an engaging argument. The Twelve Birds of Christmas is a really great, and slightly alternative, book to pick up for Christmas, from a man who is fast becoming one of my favourite nature writers.