CLARA AND THE BIRDS

Clara feels trapped by her designation as a shy child, but an encounter with an imperiled bird forces her to break out of her shell.

Narrated in a poetically formal, third-person style with the vibe of an old-school nature documentary, this tale follows Clara, a blond, pale-skinned bird aficionado. Clara lives life on the sidelines, watching birds intuitively “soar and glide in endless spaces,” while she herself is stuck, longing to join in on her classmates’ games but unable to “find her voice.” A striking image of Clara enclosed inside an eggshell is a perfect metaphor for this emotional confinement. When she decides to search a forest for birds, the story has a distinct lull in pacing. Though scenes of Clara meandering through the woods ruminating on “old, gnarly roots” and vibrant insects are aesthetically lovely and demonstrate Simpson’s mastery of delicate linework and botanical elements, this section feels sluggish. The story picks up once Clara locates and saves a bird entangled in some string and leaves the forest, ready to soar. Her shyness no longer defines her; she knows she can “be brave, sociable, and curious.” Wispy, watercolorlike backgrounds in a limited palette of sky blue, gold, and charcoal highlight the birds and Clara’s expressive face.

A contemplative text for quiet readers, but those who persist may hear the birds sing.