Review by Gus Gresham of "Maybe the Birds" by A. J. Ashworth

This short story collection by A. J. Ashworth is a rewarding read, each story like a piece of mysterious treasure from a dug-up pirates’ chest. The prose is beautiful, understated, sometimes beguiling, and full of humanity.

In the title story, we understand that we are in the midst of something apocalyptic or post-apocalyptic. Aside from hints, the details of the main "event" are left out. The focus is the effects upon the lives of survivors, upon a particular survivor, and the warm relationship between her and her dog. It’s about what we might leave behind as a legacy when the familiar world is lost, and in her case this takes the form of recreating the lost sounds of birdsong with bespoke clay pipes.

"Leather" is effectively a story about a story. It reads as a review of a story about woman’s strange "find" in a second-hand bookshop. This review approach works surprisingly well. It’s a clever, playful and enjoyable device. The story is analysed and questioned for us by a fictional narrator/reviewer who employs tantalising quotes from the story itself. Some of the descriptive language and tone-setting is particularly strong: "… the kind of curdled light that comes before a rainstorm," echoed later, in other lines like fried eggs that are "broken and bleeding yellow onto the plate."

"Mirrors" was a personal favourite. It has the sense of something apocalyptic again, like "Maybe the Birds," but "Mirrors" is even darker, more enigmatic, told in second person, and with the prose itself fractured on and across the pages. Unsettling to say the least, and rendered so beautifully.

There is scope for humour, too, in this collection. The premise of "The Monolith" can be gleaned from the following short quote as the protagonist speaks with her ex on the phone: "…thinks she sees a ripple across the monolith, as if it’s made of black liquid. ‘I’m not joking, Carl. There’s a monolith in the yard.’" There is so much to enjoy in this story. Mystery, inventiveness, the study of relationships, and of course more gorgeous prose: "A gust of wind makes the window frame crack like a bone."

"Small Feathers Falling" centres on the treatment of women by some men. There are creepiness and horror in this tale, which – among other things – stands as a stark reminder of how we should listen to our gut when the early warning bells chime in a new relationship. We dismiss sinister behaviour all too often, don’t we?, and let it slide all too often. The casually delivered, derogatory names the male antagonist calls the female protagonist become "dark moths in her head." The descriptions of the owl are wonderful, and the story’s creepiness and tension build to a point where anything could and does happen.

The book’s "Afterword" is an insightful essay which provides a more academic angle on the book’s themes. Ashworth talks of "… how female characters in postapocalyptic settings … [continue] … with preapocalyptic activities." List-making and sculpture are suggested to be the mainstay here, and indeed the title story comes back to mind with the protagonist’s careful and loving clay-hewn "syrinxes" designed to mimic the sounds of birds in a world that has lost its birds (and we has suspect lost much more).

Each story is also rich with allegory, in my view, and Maybe the Birds is a collection to be savoured.

About the Reviewer
Gus Gresham’s short stories have appeared in literary magazines and online, many of which are now collected in his latest book, Angel Reach. He is author of the novel Kyiv Trance and of the young adult novels Earthrise and Marmalade Skies. He has travelled widely and worked as a mechanical engineer, fruit picker, construction worker, environmental activist, writer, English tutor, audio-book producer, interpersonal skills facilitator, and building surveyor.

You can read more about Maybe the Birds by A. J. Ashworth on Creative Writing at Leicester here.