Birdie is a canary. Birdy is a man. Birdy's best friend Al is enlisted by the military to visit Birdy in the psychiatric hospital where he sits crouched in the corner flapping his arms like wings. Al is unsure whether Birdy is pretending or not and, in order to elicit a response from him for the baffled authorities, begins to recount their young days together. But Al has a deep and affecting concern for his friend who he is hoping is fooling everyone in a bid to escape from the real madness of the outside world. Al's nostalgic recollections are intercut with increasingly long passages of canary observations related by Birdy, beginning with the delight when he first receives Birdie, the tentative introduction of a male, Al, and the gradual expansion of his canary population which provides a good income for him and his suspicious parents. However, Birdy's hobby turns to obsession and eventually he blurs his life as a boy with dreams of being a bird and becomes totally dislocated from reality.
Birdy is an astonishingly imaginative work and says reams about the fuzzy distinction between perceived normality and insanity. Al and Birdy are war victims and passages describing the horror of Al's war experiences serve merely to show that sanity is in the eye of the beholder. Wharton's book has a rather seventies feel about it and comes out of the same left-field stable as One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest and Catch 22. It is at least the equal of these two iconic novels. If boys who love birds is your thing then Barry Hines's A Kestrel for a Knave (filmed as Kes) should appeal.