Birdie - Tracey Lindberg

“To all of the mothers and little mothers, sisters and cousins who are murdered, missing, disappeared or who feel invisible. We are one. We are with you. We are family” Lindberg.

Tracey Lindberg’s Birdie is a journey. This novel is exhausting and confusing, but impressively so. The narrator Bernice, lovingly referred to as Birdie, is a large Cree woman who undergoes a mental and spiritual journey throughout the novel that leaves both Birdie and the reader often confused and struggling to understand what ‘reality’ is for Birdie. The readers may struggle to follow Birdie as the lines between dreams, memories and reality are blurred. Lindberg intricately weaves elements of traditional story-telling and Cree folklore into the narrative in a way that is natural to this story. This unique narration allows readers to experience the novel as Birdie experiences the world through snippets of conversation, memories, confusion and dream states.

This novel also delicately explores conversations around rape, physical abuse, and substance abuse. Lindberg never explicitly says ‘rape’, but her use of imagery and allusion conjure spectres that are all too real. The choice of language demonstrates how Birdie copes with, and avoids her dark past. Birdie grew up in a house that “she had to share with dangerous uncles” (99). She explains that:

“For a long time, since it started, she pretended that her uncle was not an uncle when he did this, that he shape-shifted and became something less than uncle and more than animal. She had also assumed that when he shifted, his vision was blurred and she was no longer Bernice, just a body. Now she knew, as she saw him behind his eyes and heard her name, that he was jus uncle. Not a wolf. Not a man. And he was bad” (175).

The reader’s heart aches for Birdie, and how she has been broken, by her own family members.

In addition to conversations about abuse, Lindberg suggests subtle references to missing and murdered Indigenous women. The dark humour and wit that Birdie uses in her narration is a tool, a coping mechanism to deal with the realities of violence. Birdie explains, “Homeless people, in fact an Indian woman (or, that’s what they called her in the paper), had been set on fire in their dumpsters before (and, really, to think Bernice oblivious to that fact was to seriously misinterpret her circumstance)” (97). Birdie's constant disassociation tactics when dealing with violence can be disheartening or distressing as a reader. The brief one-liners demonstrate Birdie’s (and Lindberg’s) quick wit, but are also meant to be sharp pricks that keep you awake and aware of the harsh realities in life.

Moreover it is suggested that Birdie’s mother Maggie is missing, and most likely murdered or dead. There is a constant reference and reminder that “Maggie was gone” (203). It leaves the reader questioning where she went, why, and if she purposely put herself in a dangerous situation. Maggie represents missing Indigenous women who have been neglected or forgotten about. She is a nagging reminder in the background that is never fully explained or explored. She represents all of the unsolved cases, the mysteries and the holes that are missing in families that must grieve and assume that their loved one is gone, never coming home.

Bernice/Birdie also represents missing women. Her body is present but her spirit is amiss, drifting, flying, wandering, lost. Birdie worries that “Her auntie will notice something else. Missing. From her eyes. From her spirit. … She is afraid her auntie will notice what is missing, not what is happening” (107). Birdie represents the issues that lie right under our nose, problems and traumas that should not be easily forgotten but somehow get pushed to the fringes. Birdie’s pain, solitude and inner journey represents the women who have suffered, as well as their families who feel alone from the lack of support from the systems sworn to protect us and keep us safe. Lindberg is subtle but strong in her political message; we need to face the traumas that are presented in front of us, and we must support those who are suffering, even those who seem to be hurting silently.

As upsetting as some of the themes in Lindberg’s Birdie can be, unfortunately it is in the realm of reality, even within Canada. Lindberg is doing important work in exploring these narrative subjects, and we must learn to be more empathetic. Lindberg reaches out to her readers, willing them to listen to and support all victims of violence and abuse. Lindberg’s novel can kick-start important conversations, inspire persistence into these subjects, and promote compassion for these marginalized voices and stories. When the first step is acknowledging the problem, Lindberg takes a giant step towards visibility.

Sonic Approved