Fantasy
![Ayanna Lloyd Banwo - [object Object] author](https://res.cloudinary.com/readsomnia/image/upload/authors/a_B09K4HG1WD.jpg)
When We Were Birds: A Novel
A mythic love story set in Trinidad, Ayanna Lloyd Banwo's radiant debut is a masterwork of lush imagination and exuberant storytelling-a spellbinding and hopeful novel about inheritance, loss, and love's seismic power to heal.
"Roots the reader in [Trinidad's] traditions and rituals [and] ... in the glorious matriarchy by which lineage is upheld. The result is a depiction of ordinary life that's full and breathtaking."-The New York Times Book Review
In the old house on a hill, where the city meets the rainforest, Yejide's mother is dying. She is leaving behind a legacy that now passes to Yejide: one St Bernard woman in every generation has the power to shepherd the city's souls into the afterlife. But after years of suffering her mother's neglect and bitterness, Yejide is looking for a way out.
Raised in the countryside by a devout Rastafarian mother, Darwin has always abided by the religious commandment not to interact with death. He has never been to a funeral, much less seen a dead body. But when the only job he can find is grave digging, he must betray the life his mother built for him in order to provide for them both. Newly shorn of his dreadlocks and his past, and determined to prove himself, Darwin finds himself adrift in a city electric with possibility and danger.
Yejide and Darwin will meet inside the gates of Fidelis, an ancient and sprawling cemetery, where the dead lie uneasy in their graves and a reckoning with fate beckons them both.
"Roots the reader in [Trinidad's] traditions and rituals [and] ... in the glorious matriarchy by which lineage is upheld. The result is a depiction of ordinary life that's full and breathtaking."-The New York Times Book Review
In the old house on a hill, where the city meets the rainforest, Yejide's mother is dying. She is leaving behind a legacy that now passes to Yejide: one St Bernard woman in every generation has the power to shepherd the city's souls into the afterlife. But after years of suffering her mother's neglect and bitterness, Yejide is looking for a way out.
Raised in the countryside by a devout Rastafarian mother, Darwin has always abided by the religious commandment not to interact with death. He has never been to a funeral, much less seen a dead body. But when the only job he can find is grave digging, he must betray the life his mother built for him in order to provide for them both. Newly shorn of his dreadlocks and his past, and determined to prove himself, Darwin finds himself adrift in a city electric with possibility and danger.
Yejide and Darwin will meet inside the gates of Fidelis, an ancient and sprawling cemetery, where the dead lie uneasy in their graves and a reckoning with fate beckons them both.
Editorial Reviews
A BEST BOOK OF THE YEAR: NPR,THE ECONOMIST
A Most Anticipated Book: Time, Harper's Bazaar, The Observer, Real Simple, Buzzfeed, Essence, Nylon, Good Housekeeping, Apartment Therapy Business Insider, NBC, Bustle, LitHub, BookRiot, Ms. Magazine, and more…
"Mythic and captivating… Banwo roots the reader in [Trinidad's] traditions and rituals, in the sights and sounds and colors and smells of fruit vendors, fish vendors, street preachers and schoolchildren. In the glorious matriarchy by which lineage is upheld. The result is a depiction of ordinary life that's full and breathtaking."-New York Times Book Review
"[A] masterly debut novel. It announces an important new voice in fiction, at once grounded and mythic in its scope and carried by an incantatory prose style that recalls Arundhati Roy. . . Lloyd Banwo's literary gift lies in her capacity to transfigure [grief] – to conjure a cosmic landscape where the living coexist among the dead."-The Observer (Top 10 Debut Novel of 2022)
"A thoroughly original and emotionally rich examination of love, grief and inheritance… When We Were Birds is full of life . . .The scenes it hosts are packed with drama, colour and tension, particularly in her gripping finale . . Her novel takes flight and soars."-The Economist
"When We Were Birds is an ode to the idea that broken traditions can lead to beautiful new beginnings."-TimeMagazine
"What a great, fun, and complex book - part love story, part ghost story, all beautiful - and all the more impressive for being Ayanna Lloyd Banwo's debut!...I was so moved by this book and am sure you will be too"
- Powell's Books(Best Books of 2022: Fiction)
"[A] spellbinding novel . . The poetic prose in Ayanna Lloyd Banwo's debut novel captivates from the start . . .When We Were Birds is a unique love story whose magical setting in Trinidad takes center stage."-
A Most Anticipated Book: Time, Harper's Bazaar, The Observer, Real Simple, Buzzfeed, Essence, Nylon, Good Housekeeping, Apartment Therapy Business Insider, NBC, Bustle, LitHub, BookRiot, Ms. Magazine, and more…
"Mythic and captivating… Banwo roots the reader in [Trinidad's] traditions and rituals, in the sights and sounds and colors and smells of fruit vendors, fish vendors, street preachers and schoolchildren. In the glorious matriarchy by which lineage is upheld. The result is a depiction of ordinary life that's full and breathtaking."-New York Times Book Review
"[A] masterly debut novel. It announces an important new voice in fiction, at once grounded and mythic in its scope and carried by an incantatory prose style that recalls Arundhati Roy. . . Lloyd Banwo's literary gift lies in her capacity to transfigure [grief] – to conjure a cosmic landscape where the living coexist among the dead."-The Observer (Top 10 Debut Novel of 2022)
"A thoroughly original and emotionally rich examination of love, grief and inheritance… When We Were Birds is full of life . . .The scenes it hosts are packed with drama, colour and tension, particularly in her gripping finale . . Her novel takes flight and soars."-The Economist
"When We Were Birds is an ode to the idea that broken traditions can lead to beautiful new beginnings."-TimeMagazine
"What a great, fun, and complex book - part love story, part ghost story, all beautiful - and all the more impressive for being Ayanna Lloyd Banwo's debut!...I was so moved by this book and am sure you will be too"
- Powell's Books(Best Books of 2022: Fiction)
"[A] spellbinding novel . . The poetic prose in Ayanna Lloyd Banwo's debut novel captivates from the start . . .When We Were Birds is a unique love story whose magical setting in Trinidad takes center stage."-
Readers Top Reviews
Tu BearsNelda Brangw
When we were birds by Banwo is an incredible read. Enjoyable, exciting, complicated, & thrilling. A story I will never forget.
Tafar Chia
Tears are cleansing me and giving me hope as I'm flooded with a strong a feeling of community support as I read the final pages. It took me a while to complete this book, honestly, it mirrors the process of grieving for me, needing some time away, some time to hold space and breathe with the words while also calling for a time to truly be present and grateful. Thank you Ayanna for your work and for a rich experience. Ase'
SoCal
The first thing I noticed was how comforting it was to read this book. The cover is beautiful. The size nice to hold. The pages substantial, making every turn a joy to the senses. The story was magical. I fell for the protagonists. Every character was strong. I can’t recommend enough
Kindle
It's magical and lyrical. It is a different kind of fantasy story that sings with warmth and love and generations of life.
John
Definitely missing the characters already. I want more a must read : ) .
Short Excerpt Teaser
1
Yejide
"First thing you have to remember," Granny Catherine hold her granddaughter, Yejide, close on her lap, "is that there was a time before time." She press the first layer of tobacco down into the ebony bowl. The flame from her silver lighter make a small blaze in the cavern of the bowl and the pipe settle between her lips. "Before we come to live in this house, before the settlement in the valley, before the quarries, when the forest was so thick that no man could cross it, Morne Marie was the home only of animals. But not like animals we see now, oh no!" Catherine open her eyes wide and the blue smoke curl out of her nostrils. "The ocelots was big like tigers, the deer run so fast that no man could catch them even if he dare enter the forest to hunt them, and the little green parrots that sing at dusk was as big as the blood-red ibis that live in the swamplands. The animals could talk to each other, just like I talking now, and they build a mighty city in the forest. But this city was nothing like Port Angeles. It had no buildings, no boundaries, no gates, and the animals live together without territory to guard and borders to mind.
"But one day a warrior wander into the forest. He see that it full of animals to hunt and fruit to eat. When he look at the trees he only see the houses he could build, and when he look at the land he only see what he could take. The animals try to talk to him and tell him that there was so much more there than what he could see, but he did not know their language and so could not understand them.
"That warrior bring more warriors and with the warriors come builders and with the builders come farmers and with the farmers come priests. With the priests come governors and with the governors come death."
"But the animals fight them, right?" Yejide squirm on her granny lap. Nothing she love more than this full-cupboard feeling: the sweet smell of tobacco, the even rhythm of the rocking chair, the green hills and her granny face brimming with story. She think of the sharp teeth of the ocelots and the tight grip of the macajuel that could suffocate a man in its coils; no way any human with just two legs, very small teeth and no poison at all could ever defeat the wild animals of the forest.
Catherine look at her and puff on her pipe. "Who telling the story, you or me?"
Yejide grin and quiet down again.
"The animals had always live in peace, but they know then that it was time for war. The battle rage bloody and terrible. The quarry you see there"-Catherine point out the window to the deep brown crater on the hillside-"was where the animals make a stand in a battle so fierce that it leave scars on the mountain.
"All that killing cut the forest deep. Wounded, it went into mourning and that bring the longest dry season ever on Morne Marie. The rivers hide in the earth and the trees wilt and die away. The ocelots shrink small like house cats, the howler monkeys get timid, and the deer and manicou and lappe, who had live in peace before, start to look at each other and see food. The warriors suffer too, for no one, man nor animal, could survive when nature decide to withhold its bounty.
"Then one day when all were weary, and it look like the war would claim not only the fighters but the whole forest, a great storm set up in the hills. Fat, grey clouds empty out into the green and the men and animals rejoice to see the rivers rise again, and the forest drink deep of the rain. Thunder and lightning pelt down for three days and three nights. But remember I tell you, this was a time before time, when a tree could reach full-grown in a day and a boy could reach manhood in a night, so this storm was longer and fiercer than any of the animals had ever see before. The earth slide down the hillsides and crash into the valley below. Trees older than any animal could remember lose their hold on the earth and topple over. The rivers burst their banks and rush over the land. Rejoicing turn again to sorrow. It come like the whole forest turn on them and demand its share of the lives who defile its sacred places with war.
"Now, the green parrots, the ones who still cackle and sing and chatter, just like you"-Catherine pinch Yejide's lips together to stop her from giggling-"well, they were wiser than any of the animals give them credit for. The parrots watch the rain and watch the hills and watch the rivers and watch the dead pile high. They gather together in the branches of the last sacred silk cotton tree and hold a council. At the council's end, the parrot battalion split and divide in two. One half fly to the east and the other half fly to the west.
"The parrots that went west became the little green birds we see today, tho...
Yejide
"First thing you have to remember," Granny Catherine hold her granddaughter, Yejide, close on her lap, "is that there was a time before time." She press the first layer of tobacco down into the ebony bowl. The flame from her silver lighter make a small blaze in the cavern of the bowl and the pipe settle between her lips. "Before we come to live in this house, before the settlement in the valley, before the quarries, when the forest was so thick that no man could cross it, Morne Marie was the home only of animals. But not like animals we see now, oh no!" Catherine open her eyes wide and the blue smoke curl out of her nostrils. "The ocelots was big like tigers, the deer run so fast that no man could catch them even if he dare enter the forest to hunt them, and the little green parrots that sing at dusk was as big as the blood-red ibis that live in the swamplands. The animals could talk to each other, just like I talking now, and they build a mighty city in the forest. But this city was nothing like Port Angeles. It had no buildings, no boundaries, no gates, and the animals live together without territory to guard and borders to mind.
"But one day a warrior wander into the forest. He see that it full of animals to hunt and fruit to eat. When he look at the trees he only see the houses he could build, and when he look at the land he only see what he could take. The animals try to talk to him and tell him that there was so much more there than what he could see, but he did not know their language and so could not understand them.
"That warrior bring more warriors and with the warriors come builders and with the builders come farmers and with the farmers come priests. With the priests come governors and with the governors come death."
"But the animals fight them, right?" Yejide squirm on her granny lap. Nothing she love more than this full-cupboard feeling: the sweet smell of tobacco, the even rhythm of the rocking chair, the green hills and her granny face brimming with story. She think of the sharp teeth of the ocelots and the tight grip of the macajuel that could suffocate a man in its coils; no way any human with just two legs, very small teeth and no poison at all could ever defeat the wild animals of the forest.
Catherine look at her and puff on her pipe. "Who telling the story, you or me?"
Yejide grin and quiet down again.
"The animals had always live in peace, but they know then that it was time for war. The battle rage bloody and terrible. The quarry you see there"-Catherine point out the window to the deep brown crater on the hillside-"was where the animals make a stand in a battle so fierce that it leave scars on the mountain.
"All that killing cut the forest deep. Wounded, it went into mourning and that bring the longest dry season ever on Morne Marie. The rivers hide in the earth and the trees wilt and die away. The ocelots shrink small like house cats, the howler monkeys get timid, and the deer and manicou and lappe, who had live in peace before, start to look at each other and see food. The warriors suffer too, for no one, man nor animal, could survive when nature decide to withhold its bounty.
"Then one day when all were weary, and it look like the war would claim not only the fighters but the whole forest, a great storm set up in the hills. Fat, grey clouds empty out into the green and the men and animals rejoice to see the rivers rise again, and the forest drink deep of the rain. Thunder and lightning pelt down for three days and three nights. But remember I tell you, this was a time before time, when a tree could reach full-grown in a day and a boy could reach manhood in a night, so this storm was longer and fiercer than any of the animals had ever see before. The earth slide down the hillsides and crash into the valley below. Trees older than any animal could remember lose their hold on the earth and topple over. The rivers burst their banks and rush over the land. Rejoicing turn again to sorrow. It come like the whole forest turn on them and demand its share of the lives who defile its sacred places with war.
"Now, the green parrots, the ones who still cackle and sing and chatter, just like you"-Catherine pinch Yejide's lips together to stop her from giggling-"well, they were wiser than any of the animals give them credit for. The parrots watch the rain and watch the hills and watch the rivers and watch the dead pile high. They gather together in the branches of the last sacred silk cotton tree and hold a council. At the council's end, the parrot battalion split and divide in two. One half fly to the east and the other half fly to the west.
"The parrots that went west became the little green birds we see today, tho...
