This book got an excellent review in the Sunday Times when it first came out but when I opened it my heart sunk. It proved to be a very technical book with musical notation. Having said that, there were some enthusiastic sections that I followed with ease. The incredible complexity of the question of why birds sing is established skilfully as David Rothenberg follows his idea of playing music, actually with birds. Not only crossing the species divide but holding true to his love of jazz, Rothenberg pursues his idea to the point of flying to Australia (his professorship in Philosophy and Music must pay very well) in order to play with a wild Albert Lyre Bird guaranteed not to fly away at human approaches.
I confess to skimming the parts that bored me - the technical musical notations, the philosophy of aesthetics, and some of the human-focused exposition etc., but I enjoyed much of the rest, including informative snippets on how composers in the past have used or incorporated birdsong in their works, and information about the birds themselves. The question asked by the book can never be definitively answered since none of us can ask it of birds; but one feels there must be a spiritual dimension to the reason, something connected to the joy in being alive. This is probably very simplistic, but birds are, after all, relatively simple creatures. They fly, they eat, they mate and have offspring; they also sing as distinct from making calls that denote a warning or other imperative. They may have important evolutionary purposes in the wider scheme of things, but their lives are dominated by eating and mating. That their singing is largely very beautiful is what has made them worth studying for us. Human beings cannot make music as beautiful as bird song, or rather, our senses are too different for us to understand each other along whatever continuum of beauty that might exist.
Above all, the book made me want to go and sit in a wood somewhere and really listen to birdsong.