Birnam Wood

Eleanor Catton

Te Herenga Waka University Press

Otago Daily Times, May 6th 2023

One of the many delights of Eleanor Catton’s writing is her ability to embrace different styles and genres. Her latest novel, a satirical psycho-thriller, is set in the fictitious South Island town of Thorndike in the winter of 2017.

Globally, it is a time of “deference towards the radically unforeseen…the disruptors, the technological imperialists, the metadata millenarians and the stokers of popular feeling who had managed, invisibly and hitherto impossibly, to manufacture the authentic, the world’s most influential brand.” Here in New Zealand, groups such as the guerrilla gardening collective, Birnam Wood, have gained cultural cachet, and the movement’s founder, Mira Bunting, sees the opportunity to take the organisation mainstream.

Her plan, which involves the surreptitious cultivation of a Thorndike farm owned by soon-to-be knighted head of Darvish Pest Control, Owen Darvish, could allow them to finally achieve self-sufficiency. At the very least, it has the potential to publicise their vision of the collective commons. That the project is backed by a hundred thousand dollar ‘donation’ by shadowy American techno-billionaire Robert Lemoine goes against everything Birnam Wood stands for, but what it lacks in principle, it more than makes up for in pragmatism. Or at least that is what Mira chooses to tell herself. It goes without saying that Lemoine, a slick and charismatic psychopath, has an agenda of his own. One whose implementation will have disastrous consequences for anyone who stands in his way.

The story starts with an in-depth psychological exploration of its main characters, establishing the cognitive and emotional backdrop for subsequent events. It then shifts tracks, becoming increasingly dark and conspiratorial as it accelerates towards a dramatic ending that is as unexpected as it is inevitable.

Having been subjected to this country’s reflexive tall-poppy-slaying for daring to speak truth to power, Catton’s portrait of New Zealand is not exactly flattering. Among other things, it exposes the hypocrisy of white, middle-class Kiwi millennials who seek to assuage their angst in asceticism and social activism, as well as a collective nativity that allows the rich and famous to exploit our resources with near-impunity. Although not without affection – she is quick to admit the self-satisfied Kiwi underdog is part of her identity, too – it is an uncomfortably accurate skewering of the national character.

Nobody in the novel comes across as particularly likeable, driven as they are by a mixture of self-interest, idealism, and the need to prove something to themselves and the world. But our insight into their inner lives also invites recognition and empathy. It is the villainous Lemoine, however, who is the highlight of the novel. By rights he should be thoroughly despicable, ready to manipulate and exploit everyone around him, using any means necessary, up to and including murder, to satisfy his own ends. Yet Catton leavens his nature with enough humour and self-awareness that we are seduced by him just as the rest of her characters are.

Dark, funny, fast and over the top, Birnam Wood will leave you hanging until the very last page.