A ‘family of struggling souls’

A Snake and a Feathered Bird
by Angie Ellis

Saskatoon: Thistledown Press, 2025
$24.95 / 9781771872812

Reviewed by Ron Verzuh

*

I am lost somewhere on Vancouver Island, somewhere between 1872 and 1891. Somewhere between a love story and strange family saga. I am lost in worthy prose that seems to take forever to get anywhere and yet sustains my interest with its elaborate twists of plot and beautiful descriptions.

It took me longer than usual to finish novelist Angie Ellis’s story of female pain, male violence, and youthful discovery in what some are calling a “coming-of-age” novel. This is not your typical such book. This is not Catcher in the Rye, for example, and Ben, the lead character, is not Holden Caulfield. 

Still, this is a valiant effort to depict the early pioneer life of a young man finding his way in the world, as told through the experiences of a broken family of struggling souls. Ben faces the brutality of the landscape and the weather, but he also endures the brutality of his drunken and explosive father James.

We get glimpses of his adopted mother Agda partly through a cache of letters that she has sent to his birth mother, Lily, another lost soul who ekes out a living as a sometime prostitute. Her friend Mae befriends Ben and initiates him into manhood, but he is destined to be with Effie, who has worn a leg brace since childhood and will later make a life with him.

Cowichan Valley writer Ellis moves the reader from one decade to another and back again as Ben grows up, confused and uncertain of his family loyalties. A Snake and a Feathered Bird is not a classic historical novel since little actual history is offered. It’s more an exploration of the characters and how their lives interact and clash. 

Death comes several times in the book and Ellis handles the events with poetic precision: 

From her window, Lily watched Penny die—a robust woman taken down by a runaway wagon. Thundering hooves and rattling wheels. The driver shouting in panic. But not a sound from Penny, just a sudden crumpling, swath of red skirts in the dust.

This intimacy and immediacy of this evocative writing style kept me reading. So did the poignant moments that occur in these the rugged lifestyles and the shabby living spaces with “the small fishing villages where bears rumbled down the one dirt street, and logging camps that floated on crystal lakes.”

I also got lost in the book’s title. I am still trying to make sense of it. I often find myself puzzling over novel titles and usually leave it to others to figure out. We get a vague hint near the end when Ben reads about the “connection between Reptiles and Birds [being] exceedingly intimate.” Perhaps it doesn’t matter.

What may matter to some readers is the absence of a clear First Nations presence, although a smattering of French might suggest an undeveloped Metis connection. Either I missed it, or Ellis chose to avoid mentioning the indigenous communities that formed the majority of the population on Vancouver Island at the time. 

This is a first novel for Ellis, an award-winning short story writer. Her flowing prose style and descriptive narrative compelled me to read on but, again, I often got lost in the shifting of location and the ever-longer cast of characters. Also, the chronological switchbacks and complex familial connections tested my attention span.

Ellis’s attention to detail is perhaps partly a result of her other occupation, running an antique shop. She clearly takes much care in constructing her story, using metaphor effectively to enhance the reader’s appreciation of the wilderness setting and the lengthy cast of characters. When I reached the end I was left with the urge to begin again, either to re-enjoy this rough-hewn tale or to simply understand it better.

Ron Verzuh is a writer and historian. [Editor’s note: Ron recently wrote about Tom McGauley; among many others, he’s reviewed books by Mark Waddell, R. Bruce Macdonald, George M. Abbott, Barry Potyondi, Brandon Marriott, Harpreet Sekha, The Simon Fraser University Retirees Association, and Bill Arnott for BCR.]

The British Columbia Review

Interim Editors: Trevor Marc Hughes (nonfiction), Brett Josef Grubisic (fiction and poetry)
Publisher: Richard Mackie

Formerly The Ormsby Review, The British Columbia Review is an on-line book review and journal service for BC writers and readers. The Advisory Board now consists of Jean Barman, Wade Davis, Robin Fisher, Barry Gough, Hugh Johnston, Kathy Mezei, Patricia Roy, and Graeme Wynn. Provincial Government Patron (since September 2018): Creative BC. Honorary Patron: Yosef Wosk. Scholarly Patron: SFU Graduate Liberal Studies. The British Columbia Review was founded in 2016 by Richard Mackie and Alan Twigg.

“Only connect.” – E.M. Forster