The Ornithologist’s Field Guide to Love made me rethink whether I had stopped enjoying romance novels. Turns out, it wasn’t me. It was Beth and Devon’s relationship.

This book could’ve been the perfect mix of humor, romance, historical stuff, a lot of fantasy, and, oh, animals. But the first few pages made me question how far someone would go to portray a character as ruthless while hiding it behind their job. Hippolytha Spiffington-Quirm is the boss no one wishes to have, and you ask yourself several times why she chose this job when she treats the birds the same way she treats Beth Pickering. Money and success are the answer. After the first chapter, I couldn’t go back to enjoying the characters, their banter and the repetitive mentions of tea, villain, French fishermen, or the title of being the youngest Oxford professor in ornithology. Beth Pickering started out as the relatable counterpart to Spiffington-Quirm’s annoying behaviour, but quickly turned into the FMC that annoyed the fuck out of me and ruined the reading experience after a few chapters. One main aspect that made me frown a lot was the “feminism” aspect that I spotted throughout the book. I had the feeling that Beth desperately wanted to be ahead of her time, focusing on her work at Oxford and refusing to let anyone tell her what to do. When I was reading this, I didn’t even think much about this aspect, until it randomly appeared out of nowhere several times. For example, she works with Hippolytha without questioning anything, but then criticises her and suddenly finds the courage to work without her. She is annoyed by her chef at Oxford and his misogynistic thinking, but never questions why she basically has to do all the stuff a secretary would normally do. Or she stands in front of the mirror, apparently knowing all along that she was that professor, but only hid it beneath her “good girl” behaviour. Furthermore, her calling Devon Lockley’s behaviour towards her “manhandling” also made me frown, because I never got the feeling that he manhandled her in any way. She is a grown woman, an Oxford professor - the youngest one if you didn’t know that - and she willingly talked and worked with him.

Deep breath. Devon Lockley should’ve just stayed in the Devon.

Instead of Beth, Lockley fucked with my mind from the very first second he was introduced. I already made a post about it in the forum because I couldn’t understand how a man who wanted to flirt with Beth, then became bored by her behaviour, could see her for a second time and suddenly fall in love with her. Maybe it was ill-phrased, but after that, I couldn’t enjoy him as the MMC anymore. Another aspect is the repetitive situation starter. Yes, this sounds weird, but literally every new location, situation or complication was introduced by a bird. And each time, Beth and Devon had to catch this bird to “unlock” the next clue about what they needed to do. Is this book a video game where you had to give the village people something to unlock a new location? Sometimes, I didn’t even know why they were at a particular location or whether they were still running from the fishermen, who were French, btw, in case you forgot. I just realised that a lot of my critical points criticise the repetition of different things. Theoretically, this would be a problem for me, but in this case, India Holton just has a talent for repeating stuff. Just like the word theoretically. I don’t notice that a word is being used a lot, until I notice it. You get what I mean, hopefully. It wasn’t just the word, but everything that came with it. Theoretically, I could’ve hated this book, but I could’ve written a positive review anyways. That’s not how it works. Just communicate that you like each other instead of being unable to work properly anymore, and somehow not noticing these random ass Rita Skeeter-like reporters. This brings me to my next point. HOW DID BETH AND DEVON NOT EVEN ONCE QUESTION THE RANDOM SPAWNING OF REPORTERS IN THE MIDDLE OF NOWHERE??? Or at least wonder why everyone, everywhere knew them? Or why the hotels had those weird bed situations? I understand it to a certain extent because this competition is popular and everyone is anticipating the next winner. But they never questioned why they were being “pushed” into this couple-y behaviour, why they kept getting the reminder that “only one can be Birder of the Year”, or who could possibly be putting them into these situations aka the mastermind. Pickering, for real, someone could rob you of your undergarments and you wouldn’t even notice, even if they spelled it out for you using tea grounds. Speaking of hotels, we get the wonderful news that Hippolytha and Oberhufter are in a relationship (at least they are romantically involved) while staying in one. I already talked about this in the forum too, so I don’t feel the need to elaborate. On a side note, Oberhufter made me realise that I don’t enjoy jokes about Germans anymore (only if I didn’t enjoy the book in general). I’m still figuring out what “why for the all the sausages in Germany” means, but hey, at least Oberhufter wasn’t addressed as “Herr” the whole time. One tiny positive aspect was the language that was established after they made love. I cannot describe it properly, but I had the feeling that the way they talked, after their night in the forest, would’ve made the perfect banter when they were “rivals”.

I would’ve ranked this a lot higher if it hadn’t been for the forums, so quick shout-out to the people who posted critical thoughts about the “Hippolytha accidentally killing the only bird left from its species and making it extinct”-haha funny scene. The Ornithologist’s Field Guide to Love is the typical “our supervisors are doing stuff that we cannot back up, so we have to be enemies, because they are enemies, but suddenly we fall in love” story. To be honest, this book would’ve been a lot better if Lockley and Pickering had actually been rivals instead of strangers. Or animal rights activists. But that’s another story, I guess.